When a name of honor has thus been given to a man, the complimentary title of Koroi, or consecrated, is prefixed to it.
The battles of the Fijians are not, as a rule, remarkable for the slaughter that takes place. They are, in fact, little but a series of single combats. When a man falls, his friends try to get him off the ground to save his life, if possible, or to be able to bury the body if he should die; while the enemy use their best endeavors to secure the wounded man in order to bake and eat him. No dishonor is attached to the fact of a slain man being eaten. On the contrary, it is a proof of his courage, for none but those who die bravely in battle are eaten in the feast which follows upon the victory, the bodies of slain cowards being contemptuously thrown into the bush.
We now come to a more pleasing part of Fijian character, namely, the various incidents of domestic life.
As soon as the Fijian child comes into the world, it is taken from the mother, and given to another woman for three days, during which time she lies at her ease. The first clothing which the child receives is a thick coating of turmeric oil, and the first food which it knows is either the juice of sugar-cane or of cocoa-nut. A name is given to the child as soon as possible after its birth, and these names are generally significant of some event that has happened either to the child itself or to some member of its family.
Though the Fijian children spend the great part of their time in the open air, and are untrammelled by clothing, they are liable to a very unpleasant disease called the “thoko,” which somewhat resembles the “yaws” of the negro tribes. The parents are rather glad than sorry to see their children afflicted with this disease, as they believe that it forms a necessary adjunct to infantile health, and that a child who escapes the thoko is sure to be sickly and feeble when it grows up.
The Fijian child receives no training, unless encouragement of every bad passion may be called by that name. Revenge is impressed upon the child’s mind from its earliest infancy, and most horrible are the means which are sometimes employed for this purpose. In riper years the duty of revenge is kept always before his eyes. Should one man insult another, the offended individual keeps himself constantly reminded of the offence by placing some object in his sight, and not removing it until he has avenged himself.
Sometimes he will effect the same purpose by depriving himself of some luxury until he has had his revenge. One man, for example, will plait his hair in a particular manner, another will hang some article of dress in his house, while another will refuse to dance, or to eat of some particular kind of food. One chief, for example, hung a roll of tobacco on the roof of his house, with the intention of refusing to smoke until he had killed his enemy and could smoke that tobacco over the dead body. Another refrained from speaking, and would only answer by whistling.
The knowledge of this custom makes the Fijians a most nervous race. Should a strange canoe appear off the coast, the inhabitants of the villages are all in a stir, some escaping to the woods, and others concealing their food and other valuables in secret storehouses. They do not like to walk alone in the evening. Mr. Williams mentions that he has seen a whole company disperse at the lifting of a telescope, and, more than once, when he was visited by natives and the door suddenly slammed with the wind, the whole of his visitors rushed tumultuously out of the windows. On one occasion, a number of men were dragging a large canoe into the sea, when one of them espied a slight crack on one side. He whispered his discovery to the man next him, he to the next, and so on, and in a few minutes every man had run away from the boat, fearing lest the owner should charge him with having done the damage.
The amusements of the Fijians are rather more varied than is usually the case among savages. Some of them are identical with many of our own children’s games, such as “hide and seek,” “blind man’s buff,” and a sort of “hop, skip, and jump.” A sort of “pitch and toss,” is also in vogue, the substitute for pence being the flat, circular fruit of a species of mimosa.
They have one game which bears some resemblance to that of the “kangaroo-rat” of Australia, which has been described on page 730. The players have a reed about four feet in length, at one end of which is an oval piece of hard and heavy wood some six inches in length. This instrument is held between the thumb and middle finger, the end of the forefinger being applied to its extremity. With a peculiar underhand jerk the player drives it horizontally, so that it glides over the ground for a considerable distance, the player who sends the missile farthest being the winner. In order that this favorite game maybe constantly played, each village has attached to it a long strip of smooth sward, which is kept sedulously trimmed, so that the missile may skim along with as little resistance as possible.