The Savage South Seas

by E. Way Elkington

When deserted these “sing-sing” grounds are uncanny enough, but on a dance night they are worse, and when the drumming commences, which {159} sounds as if it came from the bowels of the earth, and makes the flesh of your back feel as if it wanted to come off, the climax is reached. You become chock-full of the supernatural, and would not be in the least surprised if the earth opened up and the dancers appeared amidst flames and smoke. Nothing quite as bad does happen, but, presently, lights are seen flashing in the bush, and dark objects holding torches come out and calmly take up their position in the circle, till nearly a hundred human beings, naked save for paint and streamers, are moving about.

Suddenly the drumming noise changes to a sort of tattoo, and then a file of men line up and begin to keep time to the drums with their feet; slowly at first, and then faster and faster till the very earth shakes, and the dull thudding echoes through the dark bush. Then a savage song is heard, a low chanting, and the men begin to whirl round and round the posts till the eye becomes glazed and the flickering light from the torches conjures up a thousand things that never happen, but the drumming, monotonous beating of those wooden images goes on and the tapping of the feet. The crowd of women over by the bush stand watching in an almost hypnotic state, their bodies swaying {160} unconsciously to the beating of the drums and the feet—black naked women with vermilion-coloured faces, and white, staring, rolling eyes watching every movement of the dance. Then a sudden dying away of the drums and the shuffling of the feet and silence. It is weird indeed.

The women step forward, it is their turn now, and a wild scene commences. More weird and more noisy than ever. Their shrill voices, mingling with the thumping of the drums and the gruff monotones of the men, make the bush resound. This is kept up for a long time, and then suddenly they all rush off and the place is left in darkness.

On the morrow a big feast is held and the chief kills the sacred pigs. The ceremony attached to this is worth seeing, as it is one of those customs that are so time-worn that both their significance and original meaning are lost and only the outward ceremony remains. For this the natives are highly decorated with flowers and paint, and their frills and plumes are extra well attended to. After a few preliminary canters round the dancing ring to drive away the evil spirits, the chief and sacred men appear, carrying spears. To the accompaniment of drums these worthies pirouette round the ground. When this exercise is finished a band of {161} natives face them and sing a wild song. Girls next appear before the chief, highly be-plumed and be-feathered and with faces stained bright red. They in their turn dance and sing. Next comes the procession composed of men only, who carry the pig, which, like Paddy’s, has a string tied to its leg in case it tries to get away. The procession goes round the whole circle while the drums are beaten in a quick tattoo—the squeals of the pig do not in the least affect these stolid drummers, who ever keep time and never smile. At last, when the circle is complete, the pig is cast at the feet of the chief, who spears it with much gusto and then flings the spear away. The pig is sometimes properly killed afterwards, but it is not considered necessary. It is then carried away to where the spear, thrown by the chief, has fallen. This is the way the pig is sacrificed to the sacred stone. Each stone has to have its pig, so the killing goes on until the right number has been slain. Then comes the cooking of all the dead and dying grunters, and the biggest feast of the season is commenced. So fat is the feast that at least half-a-dozen of those taking part in it have to be removed and rubbed down by their comrades, or the women-folk, to save them from death from over-gorging. {162}

There are many other ways of performing these dance and pig ceremonies, and each island, in fact each village, varies the performance, but they all begin with a dance and end with a feast, which is the usual programme for savage functions.

LEAVING SANTO, A VIEW OF THE MOUNTAINS, NEW HEBRIDES

CHAPTER XVI

Concerning witchcraft—More about burials—The gentle art of making love—The rain-makers.

Superstition and witchcraft are strongly in evidence in the New Hebrideans, and the natives have more than their share of both. Besides those things to which I have already alluded, there is a peculiar idea held in some of the islands that certain sacred men have the power of killing by witchcraft. The method adopted by them is similar in many respects to the usual custom, that of making an image of the man or woman whose death is required, and then doing to it what it is wished shall happen to the original. In the island of Tanna the method differs slightly, for here, instead of an image being made, part of the person’s property is stolen and taken to the sacred man who works destruction to its late owner, but he must have this property in his possession, or his maledictions will fail. {164}