As the canoes begin to move, the three men, so far idle, intone a chant, reciting a special magical formula, each a different one. The man in the front, holding his hand on the tabuyo (oval prow-board), recites a spell, called kayikuna tabuyo (the swaying of the prow-board). The toliwaga in the middle recites the powerful formula called kavalikuliku (the earthquake spell), a formula which makes “the mountain tremble and subside.” The man at the stern recites what is called kaytavilena moynawaga, a name which I cannot very well explain, which literally means, “the changing of the canoe entrance.” Thus, laden with magical force, which is poured forth irresistibly on to the mountain, the canoes advance towards the goal of their enterprise. With the voices of the reciters mingle the soft, penetrating sounds of the conch shell, blending their various pitches into a weird, disturbing harmony. Samples of the three spells must be given here.
Kayikuna Tabuyo
“Moruborogu, Mosilava’u!”
“Fish-hawk, fall on thy prey, catch it.
My prow-board, O fish-hawk, fall on thy prey, catch it.
This key expression, the invocation of the fish-hawk, is repeated with a string of words, denoting, first, the ornamental parts of the canoe; afterwards, certain of its constructive parts; and finally, the lime-pot, the lime stick, the comb, the paddles, the mats, the lilava (magical bundle), and the usagelu (members of the crew). The spell ends with the words:—
“I shall kula, I shall rob my Kula, etc.,” as in the previously given formula of the conch shell.
The first two words of this spell are personal names of men, as the initial syllable Mo- indicates, but no information about them was available. The allusion to the fish-hawk in the main part suggests a connection between the action of the rite, that is, the moving of the tabuyo, with this part of the spell, for the ornamental prow-boards are called synonymously buribwari (fish-hawk). On the other hand, the expression: “Fish-hawk, fall on thy prey,” is no doubt also a magical simile, expressing the idea: “As a fish-hawk falls on his prey and carries it off, so let this canoe fall on the Kula valuables and carry them off.” The association of this simile with the act of shaking the prow-boards is very suggestive. It may be an attempt to assimilate the whole canoe and all its parts to a fish-hawk falling on its prey, through the special mediation of the ornamental prow-board.
The spell recited by the toliwaga in the middle of the canoe runs thus:—
Kavalikuliku
“I anchor at the open sea beach, my renown reaches the Lagoon; I anchor at the Lagoon, my renown reaches the open sea beach.”
“I hit the mountain; the mountain shivers; the mountain subsides; the mountain trembles; the mountain falls down; the mountain falls asunder. I kick the ground on which the mountain stands. I bring together, I gather.”
“The mountain is encountered in the Kula; we encounter the mountain in the Kula.”
The expression, kubara, takuba, kubara, which we have here translated by “the mountain is met in the Kula, etc.” is then repeated with a long string of words denoting the various classes of valuables to be received in the Kula. It ends with the conclusion already quoted: “My renown is like thunder, my steps are like earthquake.”
The opening two sentences are clear; they contain a typical magical exaggeration, and equally typical permutation of words. Then comes the terrible verbal onslaught on “the mountain,” in which the dreadful upheaval is carried on in words. “The mountain” (koya) stands here for the community of partners, for the partner, for his mind. It was very difficult to translate the expression kubara, takuba kubara. It is evidently an archaic word, and I have found it in several formulæ of the mwasila. It seems to mean something like an encounter between the approaching fleet and the koya. The word for sea battle is kubilia in the Trobriand language, and kubara in that of the Amphletts and Dobu, and as often the words of the partner’s language are mixed up into these formulæ, this etymology and translation seem to be the correct ones.
The third formula, that of the man in the stern, is as follows:—
Kaytavilena Mwoynawaga
“Crocodile, fall down, take thy man! push him down under the gebobo! (part of the canoe where the cargo is stowed away).”
“Crocodile, bring me the necklace, bring me the bagido’u, etc.”
The formula is ended by the usual phrase: “I shall kula, I shall rob my Kula, etc.,” as in the two previously quoted spells (Ta’uyo and Kayikuna Tabuyo).
This formula is obviously a pendant to the first of these three spells, and the crocodile is here invoked instead of the fish-hawk, with the same significance. The rest of the spell is clear, the crocodile being appealed to, to bring all the different classes of the spondylus shell valuables.
It is interesting to reflect upon the psychological importance of this magic. There is a deep belief in its efficiency, a belief cherished not only by those who advance chanting it, but shared also by the men awaiting the visitors on the shore. The Dobuans know that powerful forces are at work upon them. They must feel the wave of magical influence slowly advancing, spreading over their villages. They hear the appeal of the conch-shell, wafting the magic to them in its irresistible note. They can guess the murmur of the many voices accompanying it. They know what is expected from them, and they rise to the occasion. On the part of the approaching party, this magic, the chant of the many voices blended with the ta’uyo (conch shell), expresses their hopes and desires and their rising excitement; their attempt to “shake the mountain,” to stir it to its very foundations.