Revenge for the loss of relations or townspeople is a potent cause of hostile raids; old feuds may be revived by taunts; but the chief incentive appears to be the desire for renown, to be known as “a man who goes to fight in the enemies' towns” (pp. [90], [59]).
Warriors sometimes go in parties, sometimes alone, but generally in couples ([p. 67]). At times they lie in ambush and kill young girls who go for water, or old men and women who pass their hiding place ([p. 97]). Again they go out boldly, armed with shield, spear, and headaxe; they strike their shields as they go and announce their presence to the enemy ([p. 103]). In five of the tales the heroes challenge their opponents and then refuse to be the first to use their weapons. It is only when their foes have tried in vain to injure them that they enter the conflict. In such cases whole towns are wiped out of existence and a great number of heads and a quantity of jars and other booty is sent back to the towns of the victors ([p. 104]). Peace is restored in one instance by the payment of a number of valuable jars ([p. 91]).
Upon the return of a successful war party, the relatives meet them at the gate of the town and compel them to climb the sangap;[10] then invitations are sent out to friends and relatives in neighboring towns to come and aid in the celebration of the victory ([p. 140]). When they arrive at the entrance of the village they are met by the townspeople, who offer them liquor and then conduct them to the houses where they feast and dance to the music of gansas ([p. 126]).[11] Finally the captured heads are stuck on the sagang[12] and are placed by the gate, the spring, and, if sufficient Page 11in number, surround the town ([p. 140]). Taking the heads of one's neighbors does not appear to be common, yet cases are mentioned where visitors are treacherously killed at a dance (pp. [78], [83]).
The use of poison[13] is twice mentioned. In one case the victims are killed by drinking liquor furnished by the father of the girl about whose head they are dancing (pp. [148], [156]).
Bamboo spears appear to be used, but we are explicitly told that they fought with steel weapons, and there are frequent references to headaxes, spears, and knives (pp. [65], [76], [120]).
Marriage appears generally to be negotiated by the mother of the youth at his suggestion ([p. 128]). At times both his parents go to the girl's home, and after many preliminaries broach the subject of their mission ([p. 128]). The girl's people discuss the proposition, and if they are favorable they set a day for the pakálon—a celebration at which the price to be paid for the bride is decided upon ([p. 49]). The parents of the groom then return home after having left some small present, such as a jar or an agate bead, as a sign of engagement ([p. 128])[14]. The pakálon is held a few days later at the girl's home, and for this event her people prepare a quantity of food ([p. 72]). On the agreed day the close friends and relatives of both families will assemble. Those who accompany the groom carry jars and pigs, either in part payment for the bride, or to serve as food for the company (pp. [72], [128]). The first hours are spent in bargaining over the price the girl should bring, but when this is settled a feast is prepared, and then all indulge in dancing the tadek ([p. 59])[15]. When the payment is made a portion is distributed among the girl's relatives (pp. [72], [74]), but her parents retain the greater part for themselves[16]. The groom cannot yet claim his bride, although in one case he is allowed to take her immediately after the pakálon by making a special payment for the privilege ([p. 74]). A few nights later the groom goes to the girl's home carrying with him an empty jar with which he makes the final payment ([p. 73]). The customary rice ceremony[17] follows and he is then entitled to his bride Page 12([p. 73]). Should the house or anything in it break at this time, it foretells misfortune for the couple, hence precautions are taken lest such a sign should, by accident, be given ([p. 60]).
In all but two cases mentioned the girl and her husband go to live with his people. In the first instance their failure to do so raises a protest; in the second, the girl's parents are of much more importance than those of the groom, and this may explain their ability to retain their daughter (pp. [138], [159]).
When the bride reaches her future home, she sits on the bamboo floor with her legs stretched out in front of her. The slats which she covers are counted and a string of agate beads, equal in length to the combined width of the slats, is given to her. She now becomes a full member of the family and seems to be under the orders of her mother-in-law ([p. 60]).
The tales give constant sanction for the marriage of near relatives. Dumanau, we are told, marries his cousin[18], while we frequently meet with such statements as, “We are relatives and it is good for us to be married”, or “They saw that they were related and that both possessed magical power, so they were married ([p. 35])”. It appears that a man may live with his sweetheart and have children by her, yet leave her, and, without reproach, marry another better fitted to be his wife ([p. 54]). He may also accept payment for a wife who has deserted him, apparently without loss of prestige ([p. 64]). No objection seems to be raised to a man having two wives so long as one of these is an inhabitant of the upper world ([p. 111]), but we find Kanag telling his former sweetheart that he cannot marry her since he is now married to another ([p. 138]). Again, when two women lay claim to Aponītolau, as their husband, they undergo a test and the loser returns to her former home ([p. 94]). However, this rule does not prevent a man from having several concubines ([p. 120]). Gawīgawen, we are told, is accompanied to a pakálon by eighteen young girls who are his concubines ([p. 59]).
Divorce is twice mentioned, but it seems to call out protest only from the cast off wife (pp. [63], [149]).