The tools are simple enough, being a set of five “combs” and a little mallet. The combs are made of human bone, and are an inch and a half in length, varying in width from the eighth of an inch to an inch, and looking very much like little bone adzes with the edges cut into a number of teeth. These blades are attached to handles about six inches in length. The pigment which is introduced into the wounds is made from the ashes of the cocoa-nut.
All being ready, the young chief lies on his face in front of the operator, and lays his head in the lap of his sister or some other female relation, while three or four young women hold his legs, and sing at the tops of their voices, in order to drown any groans or cries that he may utter. This is done out of consideration for his reputation, as it is thought unworthy of the state of manhood to utter a sound. Still the pain is so intense that the lads often do utter groans, and now and then actually yell with the pain. In one or two instances they have been so utterly overcome with the agony that, after they have been released they have not dared to submit themselves again to the operation, in which case they are despised for life as cowards.
Having traced out his pattern, the operator begins his work, driving the teeth of the comb through the skin by sharp and rapid taps of the mallet; there is an art even in holding this instrument, the handle of which passes under the thumb and over the fore-finger, and is used with wonderful rapidity and regularity. “The rapidity with which the Matai works his fingers,” writes Mr. Pritchard, “the precision with which he moves the instrument and punctures exactly the right spot, and the regularity of tapping with the mallet, are astounding.” By the side of the patient are placed several assistants, furnished with strips of white masi, whose duty it is to wipe away the blood as it flows from the punctures of the comb, and to leave the skin clear for the operator. Between every two or three strokes the toothed end of the comb is dipped into the pigment, which is mixed with water.
The pattern is in its main elements alike throughout all the Samoan Islands; but there are usually slight variations which denote the island in which the man lives, and others which mark the family to which he belongs. Sometimes, after a man has slain an enemy, he will make an addition which corresponds to a grant of arms among ourselves. The form of some animal is the ordinary pattern for such a badge of honor.
About an hour is occupied in executing a patch of tattoo not quite three inches square, and when this is done, the lad rises and another takes his place. In a week or so, the turn of the first lad comes round again, and so the process is continued for three or four months, according to the number of the patients, not more than five being operated on in a single day. When the pattern is about half completed, the Matai has another present; but the great payment is only made when the last finishing touch is put to the work. Should the Matai feel dissatisfied with his fees, he will not go on with the work, and, as an unfinished tattoo is thought to be most disgraceful, the friends of the youths get together what property they can, and make up the deficiency.
(1.) TATTOOING DAY IN SAMOA.
(See [page 1013].)
(2.) CLOTH MAKING.
(See [page 1016].)