The natives cut off the bark in long strips, and soak them in water for some time, until the inner bark can be separated from the outer, an operation which is performed with the edge of a shell. After it has been removed from the coarse outer bark, it is kept in water so as to preserve it in the necessary state of moisture; and when a sufficient quantity is collected, the operation of beating it begins.
Masi is beaten upon a log of wood flattened on the upper surface, and so arranged as to spring a little with the blows of the mallet. This tool does not resemble our mallet with a handle and a head, but is simply a piece of wood about fourteen inches in length and two in thickness, rounded at one end so as to form a handle, and squared for the remainder of its length. Three sides of this mallet, or iki, as it is called, are covered with longitudinal grooves, while the fourth side is left plain. Those specimens that I have seen have the sides not quite flat, but very slightly convex, perhaps by use, perhaps rounded intentionally. A masi maker has several of these mallets, sometimes as many as six or seven, each having some difference in the fluting, and with them she contrives to produce a fabric that has all the effect of woven linens among ourselves, the pattern being incorporated with the material.
There are in my collection several specimens of masi, one of which is singularly beautiful. It is thin, snowy white, and soft as silk, and, even at a distance, must have looked very graceful when wrapped round the dark body of a Fijian warrior. But it is only on a closer examination that the real beauty of the fabric is displayed. Instead of merely beating the masi after the usual fashion, so as to impress upon it the longitudinal grooves of the mallet, the native manufacturer has contrived to change the position of her mallet at every blow, so as to produce a zigzag pattern on the fabric, very much like the well-known Greek pattern of European decorators. It is beautifully regular, and, when the fabric is held up to the light, looks like the water mark in paper.
The plasticity of the malo bark is really wonderful. A strip of two inches in length can be beaten to the width of eighteen inches, its length being slightly reduced as the width increases. As the material is very thin and flimsy, a single piece being, when beaten out, no thicker than tissue paper, two or more pieces are usually laid on each other and beaten so as to form a single thickness, the natural gluten which this material contains being sufficient to unite them as if they had been one piece. Some specimens of their larger mantles, now in my collection, are as thick as stout brown paper, and very much tougher, appearing both to the eye and the touch as if made of leather.
When a large masi has to be made, many lengths of the bark are united to each other, the ends being soaked in arrowroot starch, laid carefully over each other, and then subjected to the mallet, which forces the two pieces of bark to unite as if they were one substance, and does not exhibit the least trace of the junction. As I have already mentioned, some of these masis are of very great length. Mr. Williams measured one which was for the use of the king on festival days, and found its length to be five hundred and forty feet. Many of the large, and at the same time thin masis, are used as mosquito curtains, and in that case are decorated with patterns of dusky red and black. The patterns generally commence at the centre, and are gradually extended toward the edges. The mode of making these patterns is well described by Mr. Williams:—
“Upon a convex board, several feet long, are arranged parallel, at about a finger’s width apart, thin straight strips of bamboo, a quarter of an inch wide; and by the side of these, curved pieces, formed of the mid-rib of cocoa-nut leaflets, are arranged. Over the board thus prepared the cloth is laid, and rubbed over with a dye obtained from the lauci (Aleurites triloba). The cloth, of course, takes the dye upon those parts which receive pressure, being supported by the strips beneath, and thus shows the same pattern in the color employed. A stronger preparation of the same dye, laid on with a sort of brush, is used to divide the squares into oblong compartments, with large round or radiated dots in the centre. The kesa, or dye, when good, dries bright.
“Blank borders, two or three feet wide, are still left on each side of the square, and to elaborate the ornamentation of these so as to excite applause is the pride of every Fijian lady. There is now an entire change of apparatus. The operator works on a plain board; the red dye gives place to a jet black; her pattern is now formed by a strip of banana leaf placed on the upper surface of the cloth. Out of the leaf is cut the pattern, not more than an inch long, which she wishes to print upon the border, and holds by her first and middle finger, pressing it down with the thumb. Then, taking in her right hand a soft pad of cloth steeped in dye, she rubs it firmly over the stencil, and a fair, sharp figure is made.
“The practised fingers of the women move quickly, but it is after all a tedious process. In the work above described, the Lakemba women excel. On the island of Matuku very pretty curtains are made, but the pattern is large, and covers the entire square, while the spaces between the black lines are filled in with red and yellow.”
We now pass to the liku, or fringed girdle of the women. This is made of various materials, and much trouble is usually expended in its manufacture. The ordinary likus are little more than a number of slight thongs fixed to a belt, and allowed to hang down for several inches. When worn, it is passed round the waist and tied, not behind, but on one side, and on festivals the bark cord by which it is fastened is allowed to hang so low that it often trails on the ground as the wearer walks along.
The thongs are made of the bark of a species of hibiscus, called by the natives vau, and used for many purposes, of long flexible roots like that of the cascus grass, and of different grasses. One kind of liku which is rather fashionable, is made of a vegetable parasite, called by the natives waloa. The thongs of this liku are not thicker than, packthread, and when fresh, are as flexible as silk. In process of time, however, they become brittle, and are apt to break. The color of this material is deep glossy black.