Stirring scenes in savage lands

by James Greenwood

With taunting scorn the antagonist would reply much in the same strain, sometimes mingling affected pity with his denunciations. When they had finished their harangue, the omoreaa club of insult or insulting spear was raised and the onset commenced. Sometimes it was a single combat fought in the space between two armies and in sight of both.

At other times several men engaged on both sides, when those not engaged, though fully armed and equipped, kept their seat on the ground. If a single combat, when one was disabled or slain, the victor would challenge another, and seldom thought of retreating so long as one remained. When a number were engaged and one fell, a warrior from his own party rose and maintained the struggle; when either party retreated, the ranks of the army to which it belonged, rushed forward to sustain it; this brought the opposing army on, and from a single combat or a skirmish, it became a general engagement. The conflict was carried on with the most savage fury, such as barbarous warriors might be expected to evince—who imagined the gods on whom their destinies depended had actually entered into their weapons, giving precision and force to their blows, direction to their missiles, and imparting to the whole a supernatural fatality.

The din and clamour of the deadly fury were greatly augmented by the efforts of the Rauti. These were the orators of battle. They were usually men of commanding person and military prowess, arrayed only in a girdle of the leaves of the ti-plant round their waist, sometimes carrying a light spear in the left, but always a small bunch of green ti-leaves in the right hand. In this bunch of leaves the principal weapon, a small, sharp, serrated and barbed airo fai (bone of the sting-ray), was concealed, which they were reported to use dexterously when in contact with the enemy. The principal object of these Rautis was to animate the troops by recounting the deeds of their forefathers, the fame of their tribe or island, and the interests involved in the contest. In the discharge of their duties they were indefatigable, and by night and day, went through the camp rousing the ardour of the warriors. On the day of battle they marched with the army to the onset, mingled in the fury, and hurried to and fro among the combatants, cheering them with the recital of heroic deeds or stimulating them to achievements of daring and valour.

Any attempt at translating their expressions would convey so inadequate an idea of their original force as to destroy their effect. “Roll onward like the billows,—break on them with the ocean’s foam and roar when bursting on the reeds,—hang on them as the forked lightning plays above the frothing surf,—give out the vigilance, give out the strength, give out the anger, the anger of the devouring wild dog, till their line is broken, till they flow back like the receding tide.” These were the expressions sometimes used, and the recollection of their spirit-stirring harangues is still vivid in the memory of many who, when anything is forcibly urged upon them, often involuntarily exclaim, tini Rauti teia—“this is equal to a Rauti.”

If the battle continued for several successive days, the labours of the Rautis were so incessant by night through the camp, and by day amid the ranks in the field, that they have been known to expire from exhaustion and fatigue. The priests were not exempted from the battle; they bore arms and marched with the warriors to the combat.

The combatants did not use much science in the action, nor scarcely aim to parry their enemy’s weapons; they used no shield or target, and, believing the gods directed and sped their weapons with more than human force upon their assailants, they depended on strength more than art for success. Their clubs were invariably aimed at the head, and often with the lozenge-shaped weapon they would cleave the skulls of their opponents. When the first warrior fell on either side a horrid shout of exultation and of triumph was raised by the victors, which echoed along the line, striking a panic through the ranks of their antagonists, it being considered an intimation of the favour of the gods towards the victorious parties. Around the body the struggle became dreadful, and if the victors bore him away, he was despoiled of his ornaments, and then seized by the priests or left to be offered to the gods at the close of the battle.

The first man seized alive was offered in sacrifice, and called te mata-ahaetumu Taaroa, the first rending of the root. The victim was not taken to the temple, but laid alive upon a number of spears, and thus borne on men’s shoulders along the ranks in the rear of the army, the priest of Ora walking by the side, offering his prayer to the god, and watching the writhings and involuntary agitation of the dying man. If these agonies were deemed favourable, he pronounced victory as certain. Such indications were considered most encouraging, as earnests of the god’s cooperation.

They sometimes practised what they called tiputa taata. When a man had slain his enemy, in order fully to satiate his revenge and intimidate his foes, he sometimes beat the body flat, and then cut a hole with a stone battle-axe through the back and stomach, and passed his own head through the aperture, as he would through the hole of his tiputa or poncho; hence the name of this practice. In this terrific manner, with head and arms of the slain hanging down before and the legs behind, he marched to renew the conflict. A more horrible act and exhibition it is not easy to conceive, yet there once lived a man in Fare, named Tavara, who, according to his own confession, and the declaration of his neighbours, was guilty of this deed during one of their recent wars.

In times of war, all capable of bearing arms were called upon to join the forces of the chieftain to whom they belonged; and the farmers, who held their land partly by feudal tenure, were obliged to render military service whenever their landlord required it. There were, besides these, a number of men celebrated for their valour, strength, or address in war, who were called aito, fighting-men or warriors. This title was the result of achievements in battle; it was highly respected, and proportionably sought by the courageous and ambitious. It was not, like the chieftainship and other prevailing distinctions, confined to any class, but open to all, and many from the lower ranks have risen as warriors to a high station in the community.