The uncivilized races of men in all countries of the world; vol. 2 of 2 / Being a comprehensive account of their manners and customs, and of their physical, social, mental, moral and religious characteristics

by J. G. Wood

It will be seen from several of the previous illustrations that the New Zealanders must possess much skill in architecture. The observant reader must have remarked that the art of house-building is practically wanting in Australia; and that such should be the case is most extraordinary, seeing that architectural skill is singularly developed among the great Polynesian families. The New Zealander, whose country has much in common with Australia, is remarkable for the skill and taste which he displays in architecture; and a short space will therefore be devoted to this subject.

As is the case throughout Polynesia in general, the material used in house-building is wood, and the various pieces of which a house is composed are fastened together not by nails, but by ropes and strings, which in many cases are applied in a most elaborate and artistic manner, beauty being studied not only in the forms of the houses and in the carved patterns with which they are adorned, but in the complicated lashings with which they are bound together. As, however, this branch of ornamental architecture is carried to a greater extent in Fiji than in New Zealand, I shall reserve the details for the description of the Fiji Islands.

The size of some of these edifices is very great. For example, in 1843 the Maori converts built for themselves a place of worship large enough to contain a thousand persons, and measuring eighty-six feet in length by forty-two in width. The size of this edifice was evidently determined by the length of the ridge-pole. This was cut from a single tree, and was dragged by the natives a distance of three miles. The cross-lashings of the building were all ornamental, giving to it a peculiar richness of finish.

We are, however, chiefly concerned with the domestic architecture of the Maories. Within each pah or enclosed village are a number of houses, each representing a family, and separated from each other by fences, several houses generally standing near each other in one enclosure. A full-sized house is about forty feet long by twenty wide, and is built on precisely the same principle as the tombs which have been just described, the actual house taking the position of the coffin, and being sheltered from the weather by a gable roof, which extends far beyond the walls, so as to form a sort of verandah. The roof is supported on separate posts, and does not, as with ourselves, rest upon the walls of the house. The roof always projects greatly at the principal end of the house, in which the door is situated, so that it forms a sort of shed, under which the members of the family can shelter themselves from the sun or rain without going into the house. A genuine New Zealander has a great love for fresh air, and, as we have seen, will composedly sit for a whole day on the wet ground in a pouring rain, although a house may be within easy reach. Yet at night, when he retires to rest, he is equally fond of shutting himself up, and of excluding every breath of fresh air.

Indeed, the native does not look upon a house as a place wherein to live, but merely as a convenient shelter from the elements by day and a comfortable sleeping-place by night. As soon as evening is near, a fire is lighted in the middle of the house, which fills it with smoke, as there is no chimney. The New Zealander, however, seems to be smoke-proof, and sits composedly in a place which would drive an European half mad with smarting eyes. Indeed, before the natives become inured to the acrid vapor, their eyes have much to endure, and it is to the habit of sitting in the smoke that the bleared look so prevalent in old people is chiefly due.

Not only do the natives thus surround themselves with a smoky atmosphere, but they limit its quantity as well as its quality. The number of men and women that will pack themselves into one house at night is almost incredible, each person lying down on a simple mat, and retaining the same clothes that have been worn during the day. As, however, the heat becomes excessive, the inmates generally contrive to throw off their clothing during the night. By daybreak the heat and closeness are almost stifling to an European, and it is rather an amusing sight to see a hut give up its inmates on the morning of a cold day, the whole party being enveloped in steam as they come into the cold air.

At the principal end of the house, under the verandah, is the entrance. This strangely resembles the gate of an Egyptian temple, being made of three large beams, the two side posts slightly inclining to each other, and the third laid upon them. The aperture is closed by a sliding door, and at the side of the door is generally a square window, which can be closed in the same manner. In some large houses there were two of these windows, one on either side of the door.

As the roof is made with a considerable slant, the walls are seldom more than two or three feet high where the roof touches them, though in the middle the house is lofty enough. The roof is supported on the inside by one or two posts, which are always carved elaborately, and almost invariably have the human figure as one of the ornaments upon them. The ridge-pole is flattened and boardlike, and in good houses is carved and painted in patterns, usually of the spiral character. This board, as well as those which are used in different parts of the building, is made by hacking the trunk of a tree on both sides, until it is reduced to the required thickness, the native Maories having no tool which can answer the purpose of a saw.

At the end of the ridge-pole, over the door, is carved a distorted human figure, intended to represent the owner of the house, and recognized as such by the lines of the moko or tattoo on its face, and generally having the tongue thrust out to an inordinate extent.

An [illustration] on page 877 represents the most celebrated of all Maori houses, namely, the war house of the ruthless chief Rangihaeta, an edifice which fully expresses the ferocious character of the builder. These houses are designed by chiefs in honor of some great victory, and are surrounded with wooden figures, which either represent in derision the leading warriors of the enemy who have been killed, or the victorious chief and his own warriors in the act of defying and insulting the enemy by thrusting out their tongues at them. This house bears the ominous name of Kai-tangata, or Eat-man.