In Florida, and adjacent parts of the Solomon Islands, not merely two, but six 'kema' or exogamous divisions ('phratries?') exist. Two of the six have names derived from localities, two have animal names, Eagle and Crab: two kema came in from abroad. All this points to contamination, and rearrangement, under new circumstances. Each kema in Florida has one or more buto, the clam, pig, pigeon, and so on, not to be eaten by members of the kema. This looks like the 'totemic subdivisions' (that is, the totem groups within the 'phratries') of the Australians. Again, these butos within each kema, animals and plants not to be eaten, are exactly like the survivals of Totemism in the names of the Siouan totem kins with male descent, 'Do not eat small Birds,' 'Do not eat Dogs,' 'Do not eat Buffalo,' and so forth. The buto of each kin within the Melanesian exogamous kemas, then, seems to me to be the old totem of the kin, now relegated to a position more obscure, in the changes of society, and, with one exception, not giving its name and tabu to the kema. Only in one case is the animal which is the buto, also the animal which gives its name to the kema. The Kakau kema may not eat Kakau—the crab. The Manukuma (eagle) kema may eat the eagle: one fancies that they find it tough. In the same way the Narrinyeri and other tribes in Australia permit their totem kins to eat their totems. Members of each kema are apt to speak of their butos (which they may not eat) as their ancestors, as in Totemism, but this is a mere mythical explanation of why they may not eat the buto. With half a dozen other myths, it is used by totemists to explain why they may not eat their totems.
Dr. Codrington, on the other hand, writes, 'the buto of each kema is probably comparatively recent in Florida, it has been introduced at Bugotu within the memory of living men.'[6] Dr. Codrington, as we have already seen, inclines to the theory which derives totems originally from individuals. He cites Mr. Sleigh, of Lifu (mentioned by us before), who writes, 'When a father was about to die, surrounded by members of his family, he might say what animal he will be, say a butterfly or some kind of bird. That creature would be sacred to his family, who would not injure or kill it; on seeing or falling in with such a creature the person would say, "That is kaka" (papa), and would, if possible, offer him a young cocoa-nut. But they did not thus adopt the name of a tribe.'[7]
We need not repeat the objections to all such theories of the derivation of pristine totem group names from individuals, The butos, ancestors, not to be eaten, have all the air of archaic totems, now reduced to a lower plane, and, save in one case out of six, not giving the name to a kema, in Florida. Thus the butos of each kema would be, originally, totemic, but immigrations, settled conditions, the tendency to male descent, and the introduction of local or place names for some groups, of nicknames for others, broke down the old totemic nomenclature, leaving only the Kakau, or crabs, true to their colours and to their totem and totem name, while the other kemas got local names or nicknames—the Hongokikki being named from the pastime of Cat's Cradle—clearly a nickname. Apparently the pigeon is their buto. How did these conditions arise?
Say that there were once four exogamous totem groups in Ettrickdale—Grouse, Deer, Hares, Partridges. Say that there came in two alien groups, Trout and Plover. Of these two, one might come to be called Quoits, from their skill in that game.—Two of the original four might get local names, from their places of residence, say Singlee and Tushielaw. One might keep its old totem, Grouse, and its old totem name, abstaining from grouse. One might get a new name, Roe Deer, but all, under the names of Tushielaw, Singlee, Quoits, Roe Deer, and Grouse (with another not given), would retain their old totems as butos, ancestral in some way, and not to be eaten. But the new, not the totemic, names would now mark off the exogamous kemas. Something of this kind must have occurred in Florida, under new social conditions, and the stress of immigrants. But Dr. Codrington gives a case in which the banana was tabued, just before his death, by 'a man of much influence who said that he would be in the banana.'[8]
This origin of Totemism (namely, in animism, a man of influence tabuing, and bequeathing to his descendants for ever, the animal or plant that is to be his soul vehicle) is approved of, as the original cause of Totemism, by Dr. Wilken. But could it arise in a much lower state of society, wherein 'men of much influence' are rare, and are readily forgotten? Now in Melanesia, generally, a man's fame, however great, perishes with those who remember him in his life.[9] Again, this sort of tabuing the banana affected 'all the people' of the isle Ulawa, and so could not be the base of an exogamous prohibition, unless all brides were to be brought in from foreign islands. If the prohibition was confined to known descendants of the banana man, then we have the patriarchal family, founded by a known ancestor, and exogamous. Now, in Ulawa, descent is reckoned in the male line, and there are no exogamous divisions.[10] 'This is an exceptional state of things,' says Dr. Codrington (p. 22), yet he thinks it (p. 32) 'in all probability'—plus the tabuing of an object by a dying patriarch—the cause of the buto prohibition in the kemas of Florida. Thus a solitary case from an isle without exogamous divisions ('the only restriction on marriage is nearness in blood'), and with male descent, is supposed by Dr. Codrington to cause the buto prohibition in an island with exogamous divisions, and with female descent.[11]
His theory is manifestly inconsistent with his facts—moreover, it involves the existence of the patriarchal system at the time when totems first arose.
On the whole, this reasoning does not convince, but, if Dr. Codrington is right, Melanesian institutions are shattered, dislocated, contaminated, and worn down to a remarkable degree. Yet, behind them, where the two, or the six exogamous divisions prevail, with descent counted in the female line, we can scarcely help recognising a basis of Australian customary law, with obsolescence of the totem, slowly tending towards inheritance through the father. 'A chief's sons are none of them of his own kin; and, as will be shown, he passes on what he can of his property and authority to them.'[12] In spite of the 'generation names,' 'father,' 'brothers and sisters,' 'children,' the real distinctions of own father, cousin, and so forth, are understood, and expressed, as they usually are, everywhere.[13]
Thus Melanesia shows us some of the ways out from Totemism, exogamy, and descent in the female line. It also shows us, what Australia does not, ghost worship: most prominently in Saa, where, with descent in the male line, and hereditary chiefship, eleven generations of ancestors are remembered, 'by the invocation of their successive names in sacrifices.'[14] This is a solitary case of such genealogical knowledge among Melanesians, as distinct from Polynesians. It is made possible by the sacrifices to the ancestors. Now, in Australia, there are no such sacrifices. Without them ancestors among low savages cannot be remembered, and could not hand down, as an hereditary totem, the animal or other object which is their 'soul-box,' or the vehicle of the ancestral soul after death. There appears to myself to exist, in Melanesia, a notable tendency to adore, nay, almost to deify, a dead man, as a tindalo. Dr. Codrington cites, from Bishop Selwyn, a case in which a renowned brave man was slain in action. A house, or shrine, was built over his head, and he was canonised, or made a tindalo.
His claims to sanctity were automatically certified by canoe tilting, in principle like our table tilting. The men in the canoe cease paddling, 'in a quiet place,' and, when the canoe begins to tilt, they call over a roll of names of tindalos (human ghosts). At the name of the dead warrior,'the canoe shook again.' A successful raid followed, a new shrine was built for the warrior, and fish and food were sacrificed to him. By this means a great man's memory is, now and then, contrary to general custom, kept green in this region of Melanesia. Occasionally he seems to be on the way towards godship, as a departmental deity, perhaps as god of war.[15] Pigs are common victims, now, in sacrifice. We do not hear of any 'totem sacrifice,' if ever such a thing anywhere existed. In the case of a tindalo called Manoga, deification seems close at hand. His 'dwelling is the light of setting suns,' or of the dawn: or in high heaven, or in the Pleiades, or Orion's belt. It is a remarkable circumstance that this discarnate spirit is the tindalo or saint of a kema, or exogamous division, one of the six of Florida, and all of the six possess their tindalo, a ghost patron in receipt of sacrifice, as well as their buto, or animal not to be eaten.[16]
Still more remarkable it is that, in certain Melanesian isles of the New Britain group, the two exogamous divisions are neither anonymous, nor totemic, nor of local names, nor bear nicknames, but are named after the two opposing powers of Dualism, the God and Devil of savage theology. Of these Te Kabinana is 'the founder, creator, or inventor of all good and useful things, usages, and institutions.' On the other hand To Kovuvura is the Epimetheus of this savage Prometheus: Te Kabinana created good land: To Kovuvura created bad land, mountains and everything clumsy and ill formed. These powers captain the two exogamous divisions, an office assumed by two totems in the neighbouring Duke of York group.[17] Nothing can prove more clearly the blending of different stages of thought in Melanesia.