In a small cave a little further on were two slabs, which represented two women called Au kosker (“big women”). Their heads had fallen off; one had been much battered by the sea, but the other was in a better state of repair, and some white paint indicated the eyes, nose, and mouth. We replaced this head, but could not repair the other, which we placed by the side of the body. After a lot of trouble we focussed the camera and gave it an exposure of half an hour or so. When Wilkin developed it in the evening we found to our surprise that we had a fairly good negative.
So far as I could make out, all the Au kosker ever did was to come out in the night-time and dance in a circle on the sand beach, waving and crossing their arms. Waiad used to look at them and beat a drum; after that the two ladies retired to their cave.
I had previously heard about Waiad, and took this opportunity of finding out more about him. Whatever he was supposed to be in ancient times, Waiad was until recently represented by a turtle-shell human effigy about four feet in height that was kept in a cave high up in the Au kes, the large central fissure of Waier. At the time of the Waiad ceremony the fraternity assembled on the sand spit, which is also called Waier, and yarned about the lads (kersi) who were about to be initiated. Most of the men then walked round the southern side of the island to the tabooed ground. Three sacred men (zogole) took Waiad from his cave and placed him on a small column-like stone, which was pointed out to us. The stone is now overshadowed by vegetation, and there are still to be seen the great Fusus shells that radiated from it; but formerly the place was clear, and Waiad could be seen from afar. A zogole stood on each side of the image.
The lads who were to be initiated into this zogo were brought from the sand spit round by the north side of the island and hidden behind a great mass of rock that had fallen from the cliff. When the proper time came two men were sent by the zogole to fetch the kersi, who came kneeling and laden with presents of coconuts, bananas, and yams. Each kersi had in his mouth a large white shell painted red, which protruded from his lips. The boys had to traverse some eighty or ninety yards on their knees from their hiding-place to the shrine of Waiad. These Waiad ceremonies lasted for a fortnight, during which time there was more or less continuous singing and drum-beating.
CHAPTER VI
VARIOUS INCIDENTS IN MURRAY ISLAND
I have previously mentioned that I had engaged two Murray Island natives, Debe Wali and Jimmy Rice, to assist Ontong, our Javanese cook. At first I offered them a shilling a day as wages. This they refused after much consideration, but agreed that they would take a pound a month. Later on, when they had practical experience that one pound sterling a month was not so advantageous to them as six shillings a week, they repented of their bargain, but as it was not to our interest to be hard on them, we reverted to my original offer. Our supply of silver was running short, so after a time we had to pay in half-sovereigns; at first there was some difficulty in making them understand the equity of their having to return four shillings in silver in exchange for the gold coin.
One morning during my temporary absence from the island, Jimmy Rice came up on the verandah, followed by an islander named Gi, and said, “This man want to speak along you, fellow.” Gi said, “Me want sell porslin along you.” My colleagues, not having at that time an instinctive knowledge of pidjin English, and forgetting that f and sh are often transmuted into p and s, awaited with some interest Gi’s disclosure of the porcelain. Gi produced four shillings (por s’lin’) and said, “Me want to buy ten s’lin’.” A light gradually dawned on my colleagues as they recollected the Saturday night transactions with Jimmy Rice and Debe Wali.
The more obvious part of this arrangement had evidently been noised abroad, and Gi came prepared to test our readiness to give a half-sovereign in exchange for four shillings.
After introducing Gi, Jimmy Rice retired below the verandah, where he remained evidently appreciating the humour of the situation. He said afterwards, “I laugh along myself inside. I laugh, laugh, laugh. Gi he gammon.”