We may naturally feel some surprise that a people who exhibit such an indomitable spirit, and such a love of freedom, who have overrun vast tracts of territory and successfully resisted even the well-armed and disciplined troops of Europe, should not have advanced in the scale of civilization, but have remained as savage at the present day as we know them to have been three hundred years ago. Mr. Brett, whose personal knowledge of them enables him to speak with authority, gives his solution of the question as follows:—
“There arose among them no master spirit, who, combining the wisdom of the legislator with the bravery of the warrior, might have established humane and civilizing institutions among his people, and permanently united their scattered hordes. In great emergencies the necessity for united action led them accordingly to follow, and implicitly obey, some one of their chiefs, invested by themselves with superior authority, like a dictator of ancient Rome. But at other times each petty head of a clan or family moved and acted in a great measure as he pleased, there being no actual power nor hereditary authority sufficiently respected to command the obedience of all.
“Having thus no permanent band of cohesion, their wild hordes could only fight, overrun, oppress, and destroy, and in their highest prosperity were incapable of accomplishing any great and useful work which might have remained as their memorial to future ages.”
In consequence of the want of leadership, the Carib tribe, once the greatest, and perhaps the origin of all the Guianan tribes, is steadily decreasing, and, valiant as they may be, they are no longer the terror of the other tribes, as they used to be. Indeed, during their feud with the Acawaios, in which they have been engaged for a long time, the Caribs have by no means been the winners. They have even been obliged to quit their own district, and settle themselves near the missionary stations for protection.
The same author who has just been quoted mentions several instances which show the failing power of the Caribs. On one occasion a Carib chief came to live at the mission station because he had found that a party of Acawaios, painted and equipped for war, were lurking near his home in the forest. Even in his place of refuge he was not safe from his enemies. One evening the village was disturbed by loud outcries, and it was found that a son-in-law of the chief had been seriously hurt, and was lying in his hammock, writhing with the pain of a blow which he had received. He had wandered to some little distance from the house, when he caught sight of an Acawaio behind him. He turned round, sprang upon the enemy, and threw his arms round him; but the man was too strong, hurled him to the ground, and, as he fell, struck the blow which had caused him to take to his hammock.
The whole Carib party was in great confusion and terror for some time, but at last it turned out that the attack was in consequence of a personal feud with the wounded man. Two years before, his father had been assassinated by the Acawaios, and he very naturally used his bow and arrows in a vain attempt to save his father’s life. This act drew upon him the vengeance of the Acawaios, who marked him for death whenever they could find an opportunity of killing him. He had fled from the Essequibo to Pomeroon, but uselessly, and was advised by the missionary to go to the coast and procure employment on one of the sugar estates, where his enemies would not be likely to follow.
Sometimes a blood feud is caused by a superstitious practice called Kanaima. A person dies, and the medicine man decides that the death has been caused by some one who has used sorcery for the purpose of taking away his life. The supposed wizard is then doomed to die, and a near relative of the deceased is set apart for the purpose of carrying out the sentence. He is supposed to be possessed by a wandering spirit called Kanaima, and is called by that name until the deed of vengeance is accomplished. During the time of possession, the Kanaima has to suffer many privations, so that the mere wish to be restored to his ordinary life acts as an incentive to the fulfilment of his office.
The mode of killing a victim according to the Kanaima superstition is a very cruel one. He is approached from behind (as was the case with the young Carib above-mentioned); and if the slayer can come within reach, the victim is struck down with a blow on the back of his neck. This blow is not meant to be fatal, and is only hard enough to cause insensibility for a time. The Kanaima then forces open his victim’s mouth, and presses through his tongue the fangs of a venomous serpent. The tongue immediately swells to such an extent as to prevent the unfortunate wretch from speaking, and in the course of a day or two to end his life. Sometimes the Kanaima is said to substitute for the serpent’s fangs a poisonous powder, made for the express purpose, and kept in a little tube made of the wing-bone of a bird. The preparation of this powder is a secret, handed down from father to son.
The task of the Kanaima is not yet ended. Three days after the burial of the victim, the murderer must visit the grave and go through some ceremony, before the Kanaima spirit departs and allows the man to return to his friends. The natives are very chary of their knowledge on this subject, but, as far as can be ascertained, the Kanaima presses a pointed stick through the body, tastes the blood, and by that act is relieved from the spirit of murder.
The friends of the victim, therefore, always endeavor to conceal the place of burial, and it is the duty of the murderer to hover about the place so that they shall not be able to inter the body without his knowledge. Should the friends be successful, the vengeance is reversed, for the unfortunate Kanaima is obliged to wander through the woods until he is afflicted with madness, or some other form of vengeance whereby the spirit of murder punishes those who have not carried out his wishes.