At eight A. M. the ceremony of Ináchi really begins, the people crowding from different parts of the Tooi-tonga’s island toward the capital town, and canoes approaching in all directions from other islands. All are in their very best, with new clothes and ribbons; while the men carry their most beautiful spears and clubs. Each party carries the yams in baskets, which are taken to the marly, or large central space of the village, and there laid down with great ceremony. In the marly are ready laid a number of poles, eight or nine feet in length, and four inches in diameter, and upon them the men sling the yams, only one yam being hung to the middle of each pole.
Meanwhile the great chiefs and Matabooles have gone to the grave of the last Tooi-tonga, should it happen to be on the island, or, should he have been buried on another island, the grave of any of his family answers the purpose. They sit there in a semicircle before the grave, their heads bowed and their hands clasped, waiting for the procession, which presently arrives.
First come two boys blowing conch shells, and advancing with a slow and solemn step; and behind them come a vast number of men with the yams. Each pole is carried by two men, one at each end, and, as they walk, they sink at every step, as if overcome with the weight of their burden. This is to signify that the yams are of such a size that the bearers can hardly carry them, and is a sort of symbolized thanksgiving to the gods for so fine a prospect of harvest. As the men come to the grave, they lay the poles and yams on it, and seat themselves in order before the grave, so that they form a line between the chiefs and the yams.
This part of the ceremony is shown in the [lower illustration], on the 991st page. In the foreground are seated the chiefs and Matabooles, with their clubs and spears, while the procession of pole bearers is seen winding along from the far distance. Two of them have already laid their yams and poles before the grave, and have seated themselves between the grave and the circle of chiefs, while others are just depositing their burdens on the same sacred spot. Standing by them are the two boys who headed the procession, still blowing busily at their conch-shell trumpets. In the distance, and on the left hand of the illustration, may be seen the people seated in numbers on the ground.
One of the Tooi-tonga’s Matabooles then sits between the pole bearers and the grave and makes an oration, in which he gives thanks to the gods for their bounty, and asks for a continuance of it to their offspring, the Tooi-tonga. He then retires to his former place, the men take up their poles, and after marching several times round the grave, they return to the marly and again deposit their loads, this time untying the yams from the poles, but leaving the colored streamers upon them.
Here the whole of the people seat themselves in a large circle, at which the Tooi-tonga presides, even the king himself retiring, and sitting in the back ranks. Next the remainder of the offerings are brought forward, consisting of mats, gnatoo, dried fish, and various kinds of food. These are divided by one of the Tooi-tonga’s Matabooles into four equal parts. One of these goes to the gods, and is at once taken away by the servants of the different priests, and the remainder is shared by the Tooi-tonga and the king, the latter, although of inferior rank, getting the larger portion, because he has four times as many dependents to feed. The proceedings are wound up with the kava drinking, which always accompanies such ceremonies. While the infusion is being prepared, the presiding Mataboole makes a speech to the people, explaining the right that has just been concluded, and advising them to pay due honor to the gods and their representative the Tooi-tonga.
When this great potentate dies, there is a most extravagant feast, which often reduces the people to a state of semi-starvation for a long time, and sometimes threatens an actual famine. In such a case, the tapu is laid upon hogs, cocoa-nuts, and fowls for seven or eight months, or even longer, during which time none but the great chiefs are allowed to touch them. Two or three plantations are always exempted, so that there may be a supply for the great chiefs and for the various religious ceremonies. At the expiration of the stated period, if the crops look well, and the pigs and fowls have increased in due proportion, the tapu is taken off with very great ceremony.
One of these ceremonies was seen by Mariner at the Hapai Islands, and a very strange rite it turned out to be. It was held on two marlies, one belonging to the Tooi-tonga and the other to the king. As if to compensate for the limited diet of the previous month, food was piled in abundance. On the Tooi-tonga’s marly were erected four square hollow pillars, about four feet in diameter, and made of four poles connected with matting. These were about fifty or sixty feet in height, and each of them was crowned with a baked hog.
The king’s marly, which was about a quarter of a mile from the other, was equally well supplied with food, only in this case the yams were placed in wooden cars or sledges, and nearly four hundred half-baked hogs were laid on the ground. The king having arrived, and the signal given for beginning the proceedings, the young chiefs and warriors tried successively to lift the largest hog, and at last, when all had failed, it was lifted by two men and taken to the other marly. “In the meantime the trial was going on with the second hog, which, being also found too heavy for one man, was carried away by two in like manner, and so on with the third, fourth, &c., the largest being carried away first, and the least last.
“The second, third, fourth, &c., afforded more sport than the others, as being a nearer counterbalance with a man’s strength. Sometimes he had got it neatly upon his shoulder, when his greasy burden slipped through his arms, and, in his endeavor to save it, brought him down after it. It is an honor to attempt these things, and even the king sometimes puts his hand to it.”