The Solomon Islands and Their Natives

by H. B. Guppy

The natives of Bougainville Straits and of other parts of the group beckon with the hand, in a manner almost the reverse of our own. Instead of holding out the hand with the palm uppermost and motioning with the forefinger, they beckon with the palm downwards, and motion with all the fingers. On several occasions, when motioning a native to approach by means of our own gesture, I have had to adopt his own mode of beckoning before he could understand me. . . . . Clapping the hands is a common means of evincing astonishment and delight, the hands being usually held up before the face as in the attitude of prayer, but little noise being made. Mule, the Treasury chief, clapped his hands before his face, when Lieutenant Leeper showed him some of his paintings; and surprise was exhibited in a similar manner by the men of Alu, whilst I was taking a sample of hair from the head of one of their number. Some young lads of Fauro clapped their hands noiselessly during their laughter when I gave them a tune on the Jews-harp: whilst a party of Treasury boys, who accompanied me on one of my rambles, thus evinced their pleasure when some matches for lighting our pipes were unexpectedly found in my bag.

The following mode of signifying hunger was often adopted by my youthful native companions in my excursions, when the sun was near its meridian altitude, in order to remind me of the biscuit I generally carried for them; and the little imps used to repeat the gesture in an exaggerated form for my amusement. The belly is drawn in to a surprising degree by the powerful contraction of the abdominal muscles; and, assuming a dismal expression of countenance, the hungry individual points with his finger to this unmistakeable sign of the apparently empty condition of his stomach, and says “kai-kai, muru” (food for stomach). Labillardière tells us that the natives of New Caledonia signified their hunger in a similar manner by pointing to their bellies, and contracting the abdominal muscles as much as they could.[109] . . . . The natives of Bougainville Straits make use of the exclamation, “Agai,” to indicate pain and suffering. This cry often rang pitifully in my ears when, from the prejudices of the natives, I was unable to render much surgical aid in the case of the severe gunshot injuries, which resulted from the conflicts between the Treasury and Shortland islanders.

[109] “Voyage in search of La Pérouse” (Eng. edit.: London 1800) vol. ii., p. 213.

Elevation of the eyebrows with a slight throwing backward of the head is the gesture of assent. A native sometimes raises his eyebrows slightly to indicate caution or reticence under circumstances in which we should employ a cough or a wink; and, by the same sign, a question may be asked, and as silently answered by a similar movement of the eyebrows, accompanied by a throwing up of the head. A native of Simbo, on one occasion, because I would not give him tobacco, signified his contempt for me by spitting on the ground. A woman of Alu informed me that she was the mother of two girls standing near, by first pointing to her daughters, and then touching her breasts. When puzzled, a native sometimes adopts our sign of perplexity by frowning, and scratching his head.

On one occasion, I was much amused by the behaviour of some of the Treasury boys, lively young imps who used frequently to accompany me on my excursions. One of their number had been offended by his companions, who immediately began to caper round him, distorting their faces in a peculiar manner by drawing the eyes and mouth towards each other with their fingers, and producing an appearance reminding me of the human faces on the dance-clubs of Bougainville Straits and New Ireland. Sometimes they would only go through the motions by scraping their fingers down their cheeks. The object was evidently to create terror, but only in a mimic fashion.

But little gesticulation is used in ordinary conversation. A native of Cape Keibeck, on the north coast of St. Christoval, who went through the motions of throwing a spear in time of battle, assumed a hideous expression of countenance with eyes starting and knitted brows, much as Mr. Mosely describes in the instance of a native of Humboldt Bay, New Guinea.[110] A native, who is planning the performance of an act of treachery, usually exhibits during his conversation an excited, restless manner, with a slight trembling of the limbs and a partial loss of control over the facial muscles. It is in this manner that white men, resident in the group, when approaching a village with which they are unacquainted, often find an indication of the hostility or friendliness of the inhabitants by observing the unconscious bearing of the first men they meet.

[110] “Naturalist on the Challenger,” p. 441.

These islanders converse in a low, monotonous voice; and are unaccustomed to loud, stentorian tones, such as those in which words of command are given. I was told a story of a white man who had engaged some natives to take him out in a canoe to the site of a sunken rock, which he intended to blow up with dynamite as it obstructed the channel. Immediately on dropping the charge, he shouted out to his crew to paddle away as quickly as possible and at the same time gesticulated wildly. The men opened their eyes wide and stared at him with astonishment, but never moved; and before they could recover themselves, off went the charge, and the canoe and its occupants were blown into the air. However, but little damage was caused except to the canoe. My informant told me that if the men had been told quietly to paddle away, the accident would never have happened.

I now come to the subject of the disposition of these islanders. There is a generosity between man and man, which I often admired, although it was easy to perceive that there was a singular relation between the giver and the recipient. A native rarely refuses anything that is asked; but, on the other hand, he is not accustomed to offer anything spontaneously except when he expects an equivalent in return. His generosity is, in truth, constrained by the knowledge of the fact that by a refusal he will incur the enmity of the person who has made the request. Often when during my excursions I have come upon some man who was preparing a meal for himself and his family, I have been surprised at the open-handed way in which he dispensed the food to my party of hungry natives. No gratitude was shown towards the giver, who apparently expected none, and only mildly remonstrated when my men were unusually voracious. I was often amused at noticing how a native’s friends would gather around when there was a sago palm to be felled.