VII
It is easy to see that almost all the categories of gifts, which I have classified according to economic principles, are also based on some sociological relationship. Thus the first type of gifts, that is, the free gifts, take place in the relationship between husband and wife, and in that between parents and children. Again, the second class of gifts, that is, the obligatory ones, given without systematic repayment, are associated with relationship-in-law, mainly, though the chief’s tributes also belong to this class.
If we drew up a scheme of sociological relations, each type of them would be defined by a special class of economic duties. There would be some parallelism between such a sociological classification of payments and presents, and the one given above. But such parallelism is only approximate. It will be therefore interesting to draw up a scheme of exchanges, classified according to the social relationship, to which they correspond. This will give us good insight into the economics of Trobriand sociology, as well as another view of the subject of payments and presents.
Going over the sociological outline in [Chapter II, Divisions V] and [VI], we see that the family, the clan and sub-clan, the village community, the district and the tribe are the main social divisions of the Trobriands. To these groupings correspond definite bonds of social relationship. Thus, to the family, there correspond no less than three distinct types of relationship, according to native ideas. First of all there is the matrilineal kinship (veyola) which embraces people, who can trace common descent through their mothers. This is, to the natives, the blood relationship, the identity of flesh, and the real kinship. The marriage relation comprises that between husband and wife, and father and children. Finally, the relationship between the husband and the wife’s matrilineal kinsmen forms the third class of personal ties corresponding to family. These three types of personal bonds are clearly distinguished in terminology, in the current linguistic usage, in custom, and in explicitly formulated ideas.
To the grouping into clans and sub-clans, there pertain the ties existing between clansmen and more especially between members of the same sub-clan, and on the other hand, the relationship between a man and members of different clans. Membership in the same sub-clan is a kind of extended kinship. The relationship to other clans is most important, where it assumes the form of special friendship called luba’i. The grouping into village communities results in the very important feature of fellow membership in the same village community. The distinction of rank associated with clanship, the division into village communities and districts, result, in the manner sketched out in [Chapter II], in the subordination of commoners to chiefs. Finally, the general fact of membership in the tribe creates the bonds which unite every tribesman with another and which in olden days allowed of a free though not unlimited intercourse, and therefore of commercial relations. We have, therefore, eight types of personal relationship to distinguish. In the following table we see them enumerated with a short survey of their economic characteristics.
1. Matrilineal kinship.—The underlying idea that this means identity of blood and of substance is by no means forcibly expressed on its economic side. The right of inheritance, the common participation in certain titles of ownership, and a limited right to use one another’s implements and objects of daily use are often restricted in practice by private jealousies and animosities. In economic gifts more especially, we find here the remarkable custom of purchasing during lifetime, by instalments, the titles to garden plots and trees and the knowledge of magic, which by right ought to pass at death from the older to the younger generation of matrilineal kinsmen. The economic identity of matrilineal kinsmen comes into prominence at the tribal distributions—sagali—where all of them have to share in the responsibilities of providing food.
2. Marriage ties.—(Husband and wife; and derived from that, father and children). It is enough to tabulate this type of relationship here, and to remind the reader that it is characterised by free gifts, as has been minutely described in the foregoing classification of gifts, under (1).
3. Relationship-in-law.—These ties are in their economic aspect not reciprocal or symmetrical. That is, one side in it, the husband of the woman, is the economically favoured recipient, while the wife’s brothers receive from him gifts of smaller value in the aggregate. As we know, this relationship is economically defined by the regular and substantial harvest gifts, by which the husband’s storehouse is filled every year by his wife’s brothers. They also have to perform certain services for him. For all this, they receive a gift of vaygu’a (valuables) from time to time, and some food in payment for services rendered.
4. Clanship.—The main economic identification of this group takes place during the sagali, although the responsibility for the food rests only with those actually related by blood with the deceased man. All the members of the sub-clan, and to a smaller extent members of the same clan within a village community, have to contribute by small presents given to the organisers of the sagali.
5. The Relationship of Personal Friendship.—Two men thus bound as a rule will carry on Kula between themselves, and, if they belong to an inland and Lagoon village respectively, they will be partners in the exchange of fish and vegetables (wasi).
6. Fellow-citizenship in a Village Community.—There are many types of presents given by one community to another. And, economically, the bonds of fellow-citizenship mean the obligation to contribute one’s share to such a present. Again, at the mortuary divisions, sagali, the fellow-villagers of clans, differing from the deceased man’s, receive a series of presents for the performance of mortuary duties.
7. Relationship between Chiefs and Commoners.—The tributes and services given to a chief by his vassals on the one hand, and the small but frequent gifts which he gives them, and the big and important contribution which he makes to all tribal enterprises are characteristic of this relationship.
8. Relationship between any two tribesmen.—This is characterised by payments and presents, by occasional trade between two individuals, and by the sporadic free gifts of tobacco or betel-nut which no man would refuse to another unless they were on terms of hostility.
With this, the survey of gifts and presents is finished. The general importance of give and take to the social fabric of Boyowan society, the great amount of distinctions and sub-divisions of the various gifts can leave no doubt as to the paramount rôle which economic acts and motives play in the life of these natives.
[1] Cf. [Chapter II, Divisions III] and IV, and some of the following Divisions of this Chapter. [↑]
[2] I am adducing these views not for any controversial purposes, but to justify and make clear why I stress certain general features of Trobriand Economic Sociology. My contentions might run the danger of appearing as gratuitous truisms if not thus justified. The opinion that primitive humanity and savages have no individual property is an old prejudice shared by many modern writers, especially in support of communistic theories, and the so-called materialistic view of history. The “communism of savages” is a phrase very often read, and needs no special quotation. The views of individual search for food and household economy are those of Karl Bücher, and they have directly influenced all the best modern writings on Primitive Economics. Finally, the view that we have done with Primitive Economics if we have described the way in which the natives procure their food, is obviously a fundamental premise of all the naïve, evolutionary theories which construct the successive stages of economic development. This view is summarised in the following sentence: “… In many simple communities, the actual food quest, and operations immediately arising from it, occupy by far the greater part of the people’s time and energy, leaving little opportunity for the satisfaction of any lesser needs.” This sentence, quoted out of “Notes and Queries on Anthropology,” p. 160, article on the “Economics of the Social Group,” represents what may be called the official view of contemporary Ethnology on the subject, and in perusing the rest of the article, it can be easily seen that all the manifold economic problems, with which we are dealing in this book, have been so far more or less neglected. [↑]
[3] These views had to be adduced at length, although touched upon already in [Chapter II, Division IV], because they imply a serious error with regard to human nature in one of its most fundamental aspects. We can show up their fallacy on one example only, that of the Trobriand Society, but even this is enough to shatter their universal validity and show that the problem must be re-stated. The criticised views contain very general propositions, which, however, can be answered only empirically. And it is the duty of the field Ethnographer to answer and correct them. Because a statement is very general, it can none the less be a statement of empirical fact. General views must not be mixed up with hypothetical ones. The latter must be banished from field work; the former cannot receive too much attention. [↑]
[4] As a matter of fact, this custom is not so prominent in the Trobriands as in other Massim districts and all over the Papuo-Melanesian world, cf. for instance Seligman, op. cit., p. 56 and Plate VI, Fig. 6. [↑]
[5] Again, in explaining value, I do not wish to trace its possible origins, but I try simply to show what are the actual and observable elements into which the natives’ attitude towards the object valued can be analysed. [↑]
[6] These natives have no idea of physiological fatherhood. See [Chapter II, Division VI]. [↑]
[7] Compare [Plate XXXIII], where the yam houses of a headman are filled by his wife’s brothers. [↑]
[8] This advantage was probably in olden days a mutual one. Nowadays, when the fishermen can earn about ten or twenty times more by diving for pearls than by performing their share of the wasi, the exchange is as a rule a great burden on them. It is one of the most conspicuous examples of the tenacity of native custom that in spite of all the temptation which pearling offers them and in spite of the great pressure exercised upon them by the white traders, the fishermen never try to evade a wasi, and when they have received the inaugurating gift, the first calm day is always given to fishing, and not to pearling. [↑]
Chapter VII
The Departure of an Overseas Expedition
We have brought the Kula narrative to the point where all the preparations have been made, the canoe is ready, its ceremonial launching and presentation have taken place, and the goods for the subsidiary trade have been collected. It remains only to load the canoes and to set sail. So far, in describing the construction, the tasasoria and kabigidoya, we spoke of the Trobrianders in general. Now we shall have to confine ourselves to one district, the southern part of the Island, and we shall follow a Kula expedition from Sinaketa to Dobu. For there are some differences between the various districts and each one must be treated separately. What is said of Sinaketa, however, will hold good so far as the other southern community, that of Vakuta, is concerned. The scene, therefore, of all that is described in the following two chapters will be set in one spot, that is, the group of some eight component villages lying on the flat, muddy shore of the Trobriand Lagoon, within about a stone’s throw of one another. There is a short, sandy beach under a fringe of palm trees, and from there we can take a comprehensive view of the Lagoon, the wide semi-circle of its shore edged with the bright green of mangroves, backed by the high jungle on the raised coral ridge of the Raybwag. A few small, flat islands on the horizon just faintly thicken its line, and on a clear day the mountains of the d’Entrecasteaux are visible as blue shadows in the far distance.
From the beach, we step directly into one of the villages, a row of houses faced by another of yam-stores. Through this, leaving on our right a circular village, and passing through some empty spaces with groves of betel and coco-nut palms, we come to the main component village of Sinaketa, to Kasiyetana. There, overtopping the elegant native huts, stands an enormous corrugated iron shed, built on piles, but with the space between the floor and the ground filled up carefully with white coral stones. This monument testifies both to native vanity and to the strength of their superstitions—vanity in aping the white man’s habit of raising the house, and native belief in the fear of the bwaga’u (sorcerer), whose most powerful sorcery is applied by burning magical herbs, and could not be warded off, were he able to creep under the house. It may be added that even the missionary teachers, natives of the Trobriands, always put a solid mass of stones to fill the space beneath their houses. To’udawada, the chief of Kasiyetana, is, by the way, the only man in Boyowa who has a corrugated iron house, and in fact in the whole of the island there are not more than a dozen houses which are not built exactly according to the traditional pattern. To’udawada is also the only native whom I ever saw wearing a sun-helmet; otherwise he is a decent fellow (physically quite pleasant looking), tall, with a broad, intelligent face. Opposite his iron shanty are the fine native huts of his four wives.
Plate XXXVIII
Kouta’uya, one of the Chiefs of Sinaketa
He is seen standing in front of one of his decorated yam-houses, his lisaga (own dwelling) in the background.
Plate XXXIX
A Loaded Canoe
A masawa canoe on the beach of Nu’agasi (in the Amphletts), showing the main load at the gebobo (middle partition).
Walking towards the North, over the black soil here and there pierced by coral, among tall trees and bits of jungle, fields and gardens, we come to Kanubayne, the village of Kouta’uya, the second most important chief in Sinaketa. Very likely we shall see him sitting on the platform of his hut or yam-house, a shrivelled up, toothless old man, wearing a big native wig. He, as well as To’udawada, belongs to the highest ranks of chieftainship, and they both consider themselves the equals of the chiefs of Kiriwina. But the power of each one is limited to his small, component village, and neither in ceremonial nor in wealth did they, at least in olden days, approach their kinsmen in the North. There is still another chief of the same rank in Sinaketa, who governs the small village of Oraywota. This is Sinakadi, a puffed up, unhealthy looking, bald and toothless old man, and a really contemptible and crooked character, despised by black and white alike. He has a well-established reputation of boarding white men’s boats as soon as they arrive, with one or two of his young wives in the canoe, and of returning soon after, alone, but with plenty of tobacco and good merchandise. Lax as is the Trobriander’s sense of honour and morality in such matters, this is too much even for them, and Sinakadi is accordingly not respected in his village.
The rest of the villages are ruled by headmen of inferior rank, but of not much less importance and power than the main chiefs. One of them, a queer old man, spare and lame but with an extremely dignified and deliberate manner, called Layseta, is renowned for his extensive knowledge of all sorts of magic, and for his long sojourns in foreign countries, such as the Amphletts and Dobu. We shall meet some of these chiefs later on in our wanderings. Having described the villages and headmen of Sinaketa let us return to our narrative.
A few days before the appointed date of the departure of the Kula expedition there is a great stir in the villages. Visiting parties arrive from the neighbourhood, bringing gifts mostly of food, to serve as provisions for the journey. They sit in front of the huts, talking and commenting, while the local people go about their business. In the evenings, long conferences are held over the fires, and late hours are kept. The preparation of food is mainly woman’s work, whereas the men put the finishing touches to the canoes, and perform their magic.
Sociologically the group of the departing differentiates itself of course from those who remain. But even within that group a further differentiation takes place, brought about by their respective functions in the Kula. First of all there are the masters of the canoe, the toliwaga, who will play quite a definite part for the next few weeks. On each of them fall with greater stringency the taboos, whether those that have to be kept in Sinaketa or in Dobu. Each has to perform the magic and act in ceremonies. Each will also enjoy the main honours and privileges of the Kula. The members of the crew, the usagelu, some four to six men in each canoe, form another group. They sail the craft, perform certain magical rites, and as a rule do the Kula each on his own account. A couple of younger men in each canoe, who do not yet kula, but who help in the work of sailing, form another class, and are called silasila. Here and there a small boy will go with his father on a Kula expedition—such are called dodo’u—and makes himself useful by blowing the conch shell. Thus the whole fleet consists of four classes, that of the toliwaga, the usagelu, the helpers and the children. From Sinaketa, women, whether married or unmarried, never go on overseas expeditions, though a different custom prevails in the eastern part of the Trobriands. Each toliwaga has to give a payment in food to his usagelu, and this is done in the form of a small ceremony of distribution of food called mwalolo, and held after the return from the expedition, in the central place of the village.
A few days before the sailing, the toliwaga starts his series of magical rites and begins to keep his taboos, the women busy themselves with the final Preparation of the food, and the men trim the waga (canoe) for the imminent, long journey.
The taboo of the toliwaga refers to his sexual life. During the last two nights, he has in any case to be up late in connection with his magical performances, and with the visits of his friends and relatives from other villages, who bring provisions for the voyage, presents in trade goods, and who chat about the forthcoming expedition. But he has also to keep vigil far into the night as a customary injunction, and he has to sleep alone, though his wife may sleep in the same house.
The preparations of the canoe are begun by covering it with plaited mats called yawarapu. They are put on the platform, thus making it convenient for walking, sitting and spreading about of small objects. This, the first act of canoe trimming, is associated with a magical rite. The plaited leaves are chanted over by the toliwaga on the shore as they are put on the canoe. Or, in a different system of Kula magic the toliwaga medicates some ginger root and spits it on the mats in his hut. This is a specimen of the magical formula which would be used in such a rite:
Yawarapu Spell.
“Betel-nut, betel-nut, female betel-nut; betel-nut, betel-nut, male betel-nut; betel-nut of the ceremonial spitting!”
“The chiefs’ comrades; the chiefs and their followers; their sun, the afternoon sun; their pig, a small pig. One only is my day”—here the reciter utters his own name—“their dawn, their morning.”
This is the exordium of the spell. Then follows the main body. The two words boraytupa and badederuma, coupled together, are repeated with a string of other words. The first word of the couple means, freely translated, ‘quick sailing,’ and the second one, ‘abundant haul.’ The string of words which are in succession tacked on to this couple describe various forms of Kula necklaces. The necklaces of different length and of different finish have each their own class names, of which there are about a dozen. After that, a list of words, referring to the human head, are recited:
“My head, my nose, my occiput, my tongue, my throat, my larynx, etc., etc.” Finally, the various objects carried on a Kula expedition are mentioned. The goods to be given (pari); a ritually wrapped up bundle (lilava); the personal basket; the sleeping mat; big baskets; the lime stick; the lime pot and comb are uttered one after the other.
Finally the magician recites the end part of the spell; “I shall kick the mountain, the mountain moves, the mountain tumbles down, the mountain starts on its ceremonial activities, the mountain acclaims, the mountain falls down, the mountain lies prostrate! My spell shall go to the top of Dobu Mountain, my spell will penetrate the inside of my canoe. The body of my canoe will sink; the float of my canoe will get under water. My fame is like thunder, my treading is like the roar of the flying witches.”
The first part of this spell contains a reference to the betel-nut, this being one of the things which the natives expect to receive in the Kula. On the other hand, it is one of the substances which the natives charm over and give to the partner to induce him to kula with them. To which of these two acts the spell refers, it is impossible to decide, nor can the natives tell it. The part in which he extols his speed and success are typical of the magic formulæ, and can be found in many others.
The main part of the spell is as usual much easier to interpret. It implies, broadly speaking, the declaration: “I shall speed and be successful with regard to the various forms of vaygu’a; I shall speed and be successful with my head, with my speech, with my appearance; in all my trade goods and personal belongings.” The final part of the spell describes the impression which is to be made by the man’s magic upon ‘the mountain,’ which stands here for the district of Dobu and its inhabitants. In fact, the districts in the d’Entrecasteaux to which they are sailing are always called koya (mountain). The exaggerations, the metaphors, and the implicit insistence on the power of the spell are very characteristic of all magical spells.
The next day, or the day after, as there is often a delay in starting, a pig or two are given by the master of the expedition to all the participants. In the evening of that day, the owner of each canoe goes into the garden, and finds an aromatic mint plant (sulumwoya). Taking a sprig of it into his hand, he moves it to and fro, uttering a spell, and then he plucks it. This is the spell:
Sulumwoya Spell.[1]
“Who cuts the sulumwoya of Laba’i? I, Kwoyregu, with my father, we cut the sulumwoya of Laba’i! The roaring sulumwoya, it roars; the quaking sulumwoya, it quakes; the soughing sulumwoya, it soughs; the boiling sulumwoya, it boils.”
“My sulumwoya, it boils, my lime spoon, it boils, my lime pot, it boils, my comb … my basket … my small basket … my mat … my lilava bundle … my presentation goods (pari) …” And with each of these terms, the word ‘boils’ or ‘foams up’ is repeated often several times. After that, the same verb ‘it boils’ is repeated with all parts of the head, as in the previously quoted formula.
The last part runs thus: “Recently deceased spirit of my maternal uncle Mwoyalova, breathe thy spell over the head of Monikiniki. Breathe the spell upon the head of my light canoe. I shall kick the mountain; the mountain tilts over; the mountain subsides; the mountain opens up; the mountain jubilates; it topples over. I shall kula so as to make my canoe sink. I shall kula so as to make my outrigger go under. My fame is like thunder, my treading is like the roar of the flying witches.”
The exordium of this spell contains some mythical references, of which, however, my informants could give me only confused explanations. But it is clear in so far as it refers directly to the magical mint, and describes its magical efficiency. In the second part, there is again a list of words referring to objects used in the Kula, and to the personal appearance and persuasiveness of the magician. The verb with which they are repeated refers to the boiling of the mint and coco-nut oil which I shall presently have to mention, and it indicates that the magical properties of the mint are imparted to the toliwaga and his goods. In the last part, the magician invokes the spirit of his real maternal kinsman, from whom he obtained this spell, and asks him to impart magical virtue to his canoe. The mythological name, Monikiniki, with which there is no myth connected, except the tradition that he was the original owner of all these spells, stands here as synonym of the canoe. At the very end in the dogina, which contains several expressions identical with those in the end part of the Yawarapu spell, we have another example of the strongly exaggerated language so often used in magic.
After having thus ritually plucked the mint plant, the magician brings it home. There he finds one of his usagelu (members of crew) who helps him by boiling some coco-nut oil (bulami) in a small native clay pot. Into the boiling oil the mint plant is put, and, while it boils, a magical formula is uttered over it.
Kaymwaloyo Spell.
“No betel-nut, no doga (ornament of circular boar’s tusk), no betel-pod! My power to change his mind; my mwasila magic, my mwase, mwasare, mwaserewai.” This last sentence contains a play on words very characteristic of Kiriwinian magic. It is difficult to interpret the opening sentence. Probably it means something like this: “No betel-nut or pod, no gift of a doga, can be as strong as my mwasila and its power of changing my partner’s mind in my favour!”
Now comes the main part of the spell: “There is one sulumwoya (mint) of mine, a sulumwoya of Laba’i which I shall place on top of Gumasila.”
“Thus shall I make a quick Kula on top of Gumasila; thus shall I hide away my Kula on top of Gumasila; thus shall I rob my Kula on top of Gumasila; thus shall I forage my Kula on top of Gumasila; thus shall I steal my Kula on top of Gumasila.”
These last paragraphs are repeated several times, inserting instead of the name of the island of Gumasila the following ones: Kuyawaywo, Domdom, Tewara, Siyawawa, Sanaroa, Tu’utauna, Kamsareta, Gorebubu. All these are the successive names of places in which Kula is made. In this long spell, the magician follows the course of a Kula expedition, enumerating its most conspicuous landmarks. The last part in this formula is identical with the last part of the Yawarapu Spell, previously quoted: “I shall kick the mountain, etc.”
After the recital of this spell over the oil and mint, the magician takes these substances, and places them in a receptacle made of banana leaf toughened by grilling. Nowadays a glass bottle is sometimes used instead. The receptacle is then attached to a stick thrust through the prow boards of the canoe and protruding slantwise over the nose. As we shall see later on, the aromatic oil will be used in anointing some objects on arrival at Dobu.
With this, however, the series of magical rites is not finished. The next day, early in the morning, the ritual bundle of representative trade goods, called lilava, is made up with the recital of a magical spell. A few objects of trade, a plaited armlet, a comb, a lime pot, a bundle of betel-nut are placed on a clean, new mat, and into the folded mat the spell is recited. Then the mat is rolled up, and over it another mat is placed, and one or two may be wrapped round; thus it contains, hermetically sealed, the magical virtue of the spell. This bundle is placed afterwards in a special spot in the centre of the canoe, and is not opened till the expedition arrives in Dobu. There is a belief that a magical portent (kariyala) is associated with it. A gentle rain, accompanied by thunder and lightning, sets in whenever the lilava is opened. A sceptical European might add, that in the monsoon season it almost invariably rains on any afternoon, with the accompaniment of thunder, at the foot or on the slopes of such high hills as are found in the d’Entrecasteaux group. Of course when, in spite of that, a kariyala does not make its appearance, we all know something has been amiss in the performance of the magical rite over the lilava! This is the spell recited over the tabooed lilava bundle.
Lilava Spell.
“I skirt the shore of the beach of Kaurakoma; the beach of Kayli, the Kayli of Muyuwa.” I cannot add any explanation which would make this phrase clearer. It obviously contains some mythological references to which I have no key. The spell runs on:
“I shall act magically on my mountain … Where shall I lie? I shall lie in Legumatabu; I shall dream, I shall have dream visions; rain will come as my magical portent … his mind is on the alert; he lies not, he sits not, he stands up and trembles, he stands up and is agitated; the renown of Kewara is small, my own renown flares up …”
This whole period is repeated over and over again, each time the name of another place being inserted instead of that of Legumatabu. Legumatabu is a small coral island some two hundred yards long and a hundred yards wide, with a few pandanus trees growing on it, wild fowl and turtle laying their eggs in its sand. In this island, half way between Sinaketa and the Amphletts, the Sinaketan sailors often spend a night or two, if overtaken by bad weather or contrary winds.
This period contains first a direct allusion to the magical portent of the lilava. In its second half it describes the state of agitation of the Dobuan partner under the influence of this magic, a state of agitation which will prompt him to be generous in the Kula. I do not know whether the word Kewara is a proper name or what else it may mean, but the phrase contains a boast of the magician’s own renown, very typical of magical formulæ.
The localities mentioned instead of Legumatabu in the successive repetitions of the period are: Yakum, another small coral island, Urasi, the Dobuan name for Gumasila, Tewara, Sanaro’a, and Tu’utauna, all localities known to us already from our description of Dobu.
This is a very long spell. After the recital, and a very lengthy one, of the last period with its variants, yet another change is introduced into it. Instead of the first phrase “where shall I lie? etc.” the new form runs “Where does the rainbow stand up? It stands up on the top of Koyatabu,” and after this the rest of the period is repeated: “I shall dream, I shall have dream visions, etc.” This new form is again varied by uttering instead of Koyatabu, Kamsareta, Koyava’u, and Gorebubu.[2] This again carries us through the landscape; but here, instead of the sleeping places we follow the beacons of the sailing expedition by mentioning the tops of the high mountains. The end part of this spell is again identical with that of the Yawarapu Spell.
This magical rite takes place on the morning of the last day. Immediately after the recital of the spell, and the rolling up of the lilava, it is carried to the canoe, and put into its place of honour. By that time the usagelu (members of the crew) have already made the canoe ready for sailing.
Each masawa canoe is divided into ten, eleven, or twelve compartments by the stout, horizontal poles called riu, which join the body of the canoe with the outrigger. Such a compartment is called liku, and each liku has its name and its function. Starting from the end of the canoe, the first liku, which, as is easily seen, is both narrow and shallow, is called ogugwau, ‘in the mist,’ and this is the proper place for the conch-shell. Small boys will sit there and blow the conch-shell on ceremonial occasions.
The next compartment is called likumakava, and there some of the food is stowed away. The third division is called kayliku and water-bottles made of coco-nut shells have their traditional place in it. The fourth liku, called likuguya’u, is, as its name indicates, the place for the guya’u or chief, which, it may be added, is unofficially used as a courtesy title for any headman, or man of importance. The baler, yalumila, always remains in this compartment. Then follow the central compartments, called gebobo, one, two or three, according to the size of the canoe. This is the place where the lilava is put on the platform, and where are placed the best food, not to be eaten till the arrival in Dobu, and all valuable trade articles. After that central division, the same divisions, as in the first part are met in inverse order (see [Plate XXXIX]).
When the canoe is going to carry much cargo, as is always the case on an expedition to Dobu, a square space is fenced round corresponding to the gebobo part of the canoe. A big sort of square hen-coop, or cage, is thus erected in the middle of the canoe, and this is full of bundles wrapped up in mats, and at times when the canoe is not travelling, it is usually covered over with a sail. In the bottom of the canoe a floor is made by a framework of sticks. On this, people can walk and things can rest, while the bilgewater flows underneath, and is baled out from time to time. On this framework, in the gebobo, four coco-nuts are placed, each in the corner of the square, while a spell is recited over them. It is after that, that the lilava and the choice food, and the rest of the trade are stowed away. The following spell belongs to the class which is recited over the four coco-nuts.
Gebobo Spell.
“My father, my mother … Kula, mwasila.” This short exordium, running in the compressed style proper to magical beginnings, is rather enigmatic, except for the mention of the Kula and mwasila, which explain themselves. The second part is less obscure:
“I shall fill my canoe with bagido’u, I shall fill my canoe with bagiriku, I shall fill my canoe with bagidudu, etc.” All the specific names of the necklaces are enumerated. The last part runs as follows: “I shall anchor in the open sea, and my renown will go to the Lagoon, I shall anchor in the Lagoon, and my renown will go to the open sea. My companions will be on the open sea and on the Lagoon. My renown is like thunder, my treading is like earthquake.”
This last part is similar to several of the other formulæ. This rite is obviously a Kula rite, judging from the spell, but the natives maintain that its special virtue is to make the food stuffs, loaded into the canoe, last longer. After this rite is over, the loading is done quickly, the lilava is put into its place of honour, and with it the best food to be eaten in Dobu. Some other choice food to serve as pokala (offerings) is also put in the gebobo, to be offered to overseas partners; on it, the rest of the trade, called pari, is piled, and right on top of all are the personal belongings of the usagelu and the toliwaga in their respective baskets, shaped like travelling bags.
The people from the inland villages, kulila’odila, as they are called, are assembled on the beach. With them stand the women, the children, the old men, and the few people left to guard the village. The master of the fleet gets up and addresses the crowd on the shore, more or less in these words:
“Women, we others sail; you remain in the village and look after the gardens and the houses; you must keep chaste. When you get into the bush to get wood, may not one of you lag behind. When you go to the gardens to do work keep together. Return together with your younger sisters.”
He also admonishes the people from the other villages to keep away, never to visit Sinaketa at night or in the evening, and never to come singly into the village. On hearing that, the headman of an inland village will get up and speak in this fashion:
“Not thus, oh, our chief; you go away, and your village will remain here as it is. Look, when you are here we come to see you. You sail away, we shall keep to our villages. When you return, we come again. Perhaps you will give us some betel-nut, some sago, some coco-nuts. Perhaps you will kula to us some necklace of shell beads.”
After these harangues are over, the canoes sail away in a body. Some of the women on the beach may weep at the actual departure, but it is taboo to weep afterwards. The woman are also supposed to keep the taboo, that is, not to walk alone out of the village, not to receive male visitors, in fact, to remain chaste and true to their husbands during their absence. Should a woman commit misconduct, her husband’s canoe would be slow. As a rule there are recriminations between husbands and wives and consequent bad feeling on the return of the party; whether the canoe should be blamed or the wife it is difficult to say.
The women now look out for the rain and thunder, for the sign that the men have opened the lilava (special magical bundle). Then they know that the party has arrived on the beach of Sarubwoyna, and performs now its final magic, and prepares for its entrance into the villages of Tu’utauna, and Bwayowa. The women are very anxious that the men should succeed in arriving at Dobu, and that they should not be compelled by bad weather to return from the Amphletts. They have been preparing special grass skirts to put on, when they meet the returning canoes on the beach; they also hope to receive the sago, which is considered a dainty, and some of the ornaments, which their men bring them back from Dobu. If for any reason the fleet returns prematurely, there is great disappointment throughout the village, because this means the expedition has been a failure, nothing has been brought back to those left at home, and they have no opportunity of wearing their ceremonial dress.
[1] Compare the linguistic analysis of the original text of this spell, given in [Chapter XVIII]. [↑]
[2] Koyatabu—the mountain on the North shore of Fergusson; Kamsareta,—the highest hill on Domdom,—in the Amphletts; Koyava’u—the mountain opposite Dobu island, on the North shore of Dawson Straits; Gorebubu—the volcano on Dobu island. [↑]