The firewood, stones, and bamboo are considered as emblems of the utterly abject state to which the bearers have been reduced. The stones, being the material with which the native ovens are made, signify that those who deposit them at the feet of the victors give themselves up to be baked and eaten by the conquerors. The firewood represents the material with which the ovens are heated, and the bamboo serves as a double symbol. In the first place, the knives with which the Samoans cut up their food were always made of bamboo before the use of iron was introduced by Europeans; and in the second place, the instruments by which torture was inflicted on prisoners by cruel captors were made of the same material.
When the conquered party are pardoned, they enter the house of the chief, kiss his feet, and present him with fine mats, bark cloth, food, and similar property. This ceremony is called Ifonga, and is sometimes employed on other occasions. For example, during the war between Manono and Aâna, two of the most influential chiefs of the latter party took umbrage at some slight, either real or fancied, and deserted to the enemy. Desertion of this nature is quite a common event in Samoan warfare, inasmuch as the chiefs are almost entirely independent of each other, and are bound together by the slightest of ties. In fact, the condition of these islanders much resembles that of the Scottish Highlanders in the old times, when it was hardly possible to wage a regular war on account of the rival jealousies of the different chiefs, besides the internal dissensions among the members of each clan.
Besides, as in the old Scottish clans, there is no discipline by which even the men are bound together. Each man serves as long as he chooses, and no longer. If he thinks himself slighted, or if his crops at home have to be got in, he has no hesitation in shouldering his club, and going off to his own village; nor is there any law by which he can be punished for so doing. In the war to which we are now alluding, a vast number of the Savaii allies of Manono had gone off to their own plantations.
In order to carry out the principle of obtaining the Malo, or sovereignty, it was necessary that the deserters should do homage to Manono, and be replaced in state in their homes, which they were supposed to hold under Manono as vassals in charge. If they could take possession without being attacked by the opposing party, they were supposed to have asserted their rights.
Accordingly, a great ceremony was projected. The Manono chiefs recalled all the allies who had escaped from the war, ostensibly to look after their plantations, but in reality because they had a strong objection to bullets, and summoned them to bring the produce of their plantations to a great “fono,” or discussion. Accordingly, they all came back, allured by the prospect of the feast which accompanies such a “fono.” The two deserting chiefs were introduced to the assembly, and went through the ceremony of Ifonga as a matter of form. Next they had to be safely installed in their own villages. With one of them this was a comparatively easy matter, as the whole district was deserted. So the chief was taken there in triumph, escorted by thirty or forty canoes, and formally installed in his own domains, as vassal to Manono, and therefore acknowledging the right of Malo to belong to that district. He had no followers with him, and in a day or two he left the place and returned to Manono. Still, the transaction had been completed, the time during which he held his domain not being of any importance. The reader may be glad to know that this chief suffered the usual fate of renegades, being received at first with great ceremony, and made much of, and afterward sinking into utter obscurity.
As to the other chief, there was a difficulty respecting the installation. It so happened that, he having been one of the most influential leaders, all the united forces of the two districts, Aâna and Atua, were encamped in and about the place, and if he had been taken there he would not only have been attacked, but the invading party would probably have been repelled by the united forces of the other two districts. So, after much deliberation, it was determined that he should be installed at a convenient season, but that the precise time for performing the ceremony need not for the present be fixed upon.
Sometimes a couple of chiefs quarrel, and, instead of going to war, fight it out themselves with their clubs. They display great dexterity in fencing and guarding, as well as striking, and are watched intently by the spectators. They are usually parted before they do any serious harm to each other, because in case either were killed, or even seriously injured, a war of vengeance would be the inevitable result.
Comparatively little is known of the native laws of Samoa, which, like all similar institutions, are always on the change, and of late years have been almost forgotten by reason of the presence of Europeans in the islands. We find, however, from several travellers, especially from those who have lived among the Samoans as missionaries, that a tolerably well-defined code of laws is recognized, and administered by the chief and his councillors.
Murder, for example, was punishable by death; and this was so well known that when one man murdered another, he and all his family generally fled to another district, where they were sure of protection. It was necessary that all the family should accompany the murderer, because the relatives of the slain man might wreak their vengeance upon any relation of the murderer. Practically, the punishment for murder resolved itself into a heavy fine. The fugitive necessarily left behind him his plantations, his house, and other property, all of which was seized by the chief. Sometimes the whole of the property was confiscated, the house burned down, the plantation devastated, and a message sent to the murderer that he might never return to his own village. Generally, however, this extreme punishment was commuted for a heavy fine, part of which consisted in giving a feast to the entire village.
Damaging a fruit tree was held to be a crime deserving of heavy punishment; and so was speaking disrespectfully to a chief, destroying a fence, or behaving rudely to strangers. For several offences the Samoans had a curiously graduated scale of punishments. Sometimes, when the offence was a light one, the offender was sentenced to seat himself in front of the chief and his council, and take five bites of a cruelly pungent root. Sometimes he was obliged to toss and catch a certain number of times one of the prickly sea-urchins, which are covered with slender spikes, as sharp as needles and as brittle as glass. Sometimes he had to beat his head with sharp stones until his face was covered with blood.