Head-hunters, black, white, and brown

by Alfred C. Haddon

It is pretty evident that magur was essentially the disciplinary executive of the Malu cult. All breaches of discipline, acts of sacrilege, and the like were punished by magur. Magur was also the means of terrorising the women and thereby keeping up the fear and mystery of the Malu ceremonies. There is no doubt that this great power was often abused to pay off personal grudges or for the aggrandisement or indulgence of the Malu officials. A somewhat similar institution occurs in the Papuan Gulf and Mekeo districts of British New Guinea. The rukruk of North Bougainville, in the Solomon Islands, and the dukduk of the Gazelle Peninsula, in New Britain, are apparently also of the same nature.

The life of the Torres Straits Islanders was at all times hedged in with observances, for the powers of the unseen world are very real to savages, and most of the ordinary events in Nature have to be supplemented by magical processes. Indeed, the magic connected with planting is as essential as is the agricultural process itself, and without certain specific magical rites it would be foolish to expect abundant crops of fruit or success in fishing. In the course of this narration I incidentally allude to many of these customs, but it would be tedious to enumerate all those concerning which we have gathered some information, and we recognise that quite a number must have escaped our ken altogether.

But of all the ceremonies of the eastern tribe, that of the great and sacred Malu Mystery was certainly the most famous, for, as far as we could learn, there was nothing to approach it in Erub. The fame of it had spread to the western tribe, but doubtless the initiation ceremonies of the different islands had a similar overwhelming sanctity for their initiates.

It is difficult for us to realise the awe and reverence that was felt by these people for these sacred ceremonies, and it must be admitted that this intense feeling, combined as it was with reticence and discipline, had a strong educative effect on the people. For this reason, if for no other, these ceremonies are worthy of a very careful study. Whatever tends to take a man out of himself and to weld him into a solidarity, limited though that may be, is an upward step in the slow and laborious evolution of man, and deserves our sympathetic respect.

The paraphernalia of nearly every ceremony of all peoples are generally foolish, and often grotesque, to the outsider; but they awaken deep religious sentiment in the true believer, who, when duly instructed, beholds in them a symbolism that visualises the sacred legends and aspirations of his community. There cannot be the least doubt that these sentiments exist among so-called savages, and those who scoff at their ceremonies thereby condemn themselves.

CHAPTER V
ZOGOS

We all like to know what has happened recently, or what will probably take place in the immediate future, and so we read the daily paper to learn the news. Savages, after all, are not very different in many ways from ourselves, and they, too, want to know what is going on. Although our Murray Island friends had no written language, and consequently could have no newspapers, they managed to invent a system for finding out about things which appeared to answer their purpose admirably—at all events they were very proud of it. The cynical might hazard a suggestion that the news imparted by the Murray Island oracle was not appreciably more fallible than that which appears in many of our newspapers.

I discovered the old Murray Island oracle ten years ago, and being anxious to renew my acquaintance with Tomog Zogo, as it is called, we went to have a look at it; but we found it dreadfully overgrown with vegetation. I grubbed about for some time, but gave it up as hopeless till we had some help; so we went on to visit some other relics of the past. As we were going through the bush to see a garden zogo stone that had “come by itself” from Erub, thirty miles off, we came across a party of men who had been collecting wood to burn the lime for the new church. They were having a “spell” and eating in groups; then some of them began to dance the Rotumah dance that they so often practised, and which they intended to perform on the occasion of opening of the new church at Erub. It was pleasingly unexpected to come suddenly upon a convivial group of twenty to thirty men. We chatted, joked, and passed on.

Next morning I sent the sergeant, Jimmy Dei, and some policemen to cut away the bamboos and undergrowth that obstructed Tomog Zogo, and Ray and I spent a long afternoon in mapping it. We placed two long bamboos east and west along each side of the large group of stones that constitute the zogo. Then we tied taut strings across from the one to the other bamboo at intervals of two feet. Next we marked on a sheet of squared paper the positions of the bamboos and strings, each square of the paper representing six square inches on the ground; there were thus four squares between each two lines of string on the paper. Ray measured the distance of every stone from the nearest bamboo and string, and thus I was able to put down each stone on paper with a very fair degree of accuracy.