An old dancing-ground, Dam, associated with the Malu ceremonies, was next visited. It was situated to the north-east of Las in the bush, a few yards from the beach. This was overgrown by vegetation, so we set to work and cleared it. A quadrangular area of shells, mostly the large Fusus, amongst which were five stones, was laid bare. This had a general N.N.W. to S.S.E. direction. At right angles to this group of shells was a series of stones, arranged like a fish-hook, extending for a distance of about fourteen feet. About fifteen feet to the south-east was another stone, Zugared. Three of the stones were foreign; all the remainder were, I believe, local stones—two of them were blocks of coral.
When this particular ceremony was carried on, a taboo was put for some distance on each side of the sand beach to warn off all unauthorised persons. The four officiating men mixed the ashes of a scented root with oil in a couple of shells; two of them held the shells while the other two anointed the initiates between the first two toes and on the knee and shoulder of the right side. Four men next held a large Fusus shell in each hand, the first two stood side by side, the second two crouched behind them, and a number of pairs of men crouched behind these; this double row formed up between Zugared and the other stones. On the opposite side of the island stones the kersi clung in fright round the three zogole, who stood close together.
Finally all went and jumped in the sea; after swimming about for a short time the kersi were rubbed with coconut oil and painted in a particular manner and given a pigeon’s feather to wear. The boys were shown the stones and told their names, and were informed that they were placed there by Malu. There can be little doubt that these stones formed a kind of map, or chart, for the instruction of the youths, and to impress upon them the wanderings of Malu on his voyage to Murray Island. I could not help recalling a parallel instance to this that occurred during my former visit to Murray Island, when the white missionary was instructing, by means of a map, the young native teachers in the three journeys of St. Paul.
We next went up the hill to Gazir, where, in a thicket of bamboos, the first of the Malu ceremonies was held. These ceremonies have already been dealt with. There is no doubt that if reliable information is to be obtained on sacred customs, one must go to the very spot where the ceremony took place in order to gain it, for not only does a right comprehension often depend on a knowledge of local conditions, but the place itself, by the association of ideas, recalls incidents to the narrator’s memory.
On our way back we met Seligmann, who had come across to join us. We had the usual meal of boiled yams and coconuts. Prayers were followed by another tamar, which was a little better than that of the night before. Pasi and I joined the circle, and Seligmann was left outside. When the “master” came round to me I showed a piece of firewood, which I threw into the fire, then I said “Tamar ⸺” (the native name for the variety of cooked yam Pasi had given me; I have forgotten what it was). The “master” said, “Who gave it you?” and I said, “My wife in England cooked it for me,” at which there was a laugh. Then I held up a coconut Gadodo had given me, and lastly some tobacco, a piece of which I gave to the “master.” Thus I fulfilled the injunction laid upon me the previous night, and I was not ducked in the sea. When the round was finished a prayer was offered, and Seligmann was next admitted as Rivers and I previously had been. After this preliminary ceremony a sort of auction, or market, is supposed to take place; but these were very small tamars, and very little trading was done. Bruce tells me that at large tamars a great deal of buying and selling may occur, and good prices are often realised. As in some other matters, the natives overdo tamar, and rivalry in buying food results in the paralysing of ordinary routine daily work.
After tamar I persuaded Enocha and another man to sing to me. Both belonged to the zŭgareb, or “drum” clan, the members of which used formerly to beat the drum and sing the songs at the ceremonies; they were, in fact, the bards of the islands. One quite beautiful mournful couplet was a funeral dirge for a deceased Malu initiate.
Another Malu chant, which ran as follows—“O welwa, O lelelewar, O welwatamera, O gulabatamera, O wei—wei, wei—wei,” etc., sounded most pathetic, and led one to expect a suitable meaning; but the translation, so far as I could make out, is—“O feathers! O yams! O feathered stone-club! O dry banana leaf!”
We were then interrupted by a “play.” The people from our side of the island had come over to give a return performance, and with them had come Ontong, our cook. Two of the men had painted their faces a bright pale red, and one or two lads and lassies had only one side of the face so ruddled. They had but one song, the sole words of which were—
“Oh you must be a lover of the Lord,