Rarik took me to his house, to witness another dramatic representation: the subject was the war on Mediuro. Women sang, or rather screamed, the deeds of the warriors; and the men in their dances endeavoured, by angry gestures and brandishing their lances, to describe the valour of the combatants. I expressed to Rarik my wish to know more of their method of warfare; he and Lagediak in consequence assembled two troops, which they opposed to each other at a short distance, as hostile armies; the first rank, in both, consisting of men, and the second of women. The former were armed with sticks instead of lances, the latter had their baskets filled with pandana seeds for stones, and their hair, instead of being as usual, tastefully bound up, hung dishevelled and wild about their heads, giving them the appearance of maniacs. Rarik placed himself at the head of one troop, and Lagediak of the other: both gave the signal for attack, by blowing their muscle horns. The adverse forces approached; but instead of the battle began a comic dance, in which the two armies emulated each other in grimaces, furious gesticulations, and a distortion of the eyes, which left only the whites visible, while the women shrieked a war-song, which, if their opponents had been lovers of harmony, would assuredly have put them to flight. The leaders on each side took no share in these violent exertions, but stood still, animating their troops by the tones of the muscle horn. When exhausted by these efforts, the horns were silent, and the armies separated by mutual consent, looking on while some of the most valiant from each side came forward to challenge with threats and abuse a champion of the enemy to single combat. This was represented by dancing and songs, and occasional movements with the hand, as if to throw the lance, which the antagonist sought to avoid by dexterously springing aside. The respective armies and their leaders animated the courage of their warriors by battle-songs, till the horns were blown again; the armies once more slowly approached each other; the champions retired into their ranks, and the battle was renewed with a prodigious noise; spears waved in the air; pandana seed flew from the delicate hands of the female warriors, over the heads of their husbands, upon the enemy, but the armies never came near enough to be really engaged. The leaders remained in front loudly blowing their horns, and sometimes giving commands. At length, by accident or design, one of Lagediak's men fell; the battle was now over, the victory decided, and the signal given for drawing off the forces. Both armies were so exhausted, that they threw themselves on the grass, and amidst laughing and merriment, gave themselves up to repose.
A large sailing-boat now put ashore, and an old man with white hair and beard was lifted from it; his shrivelled skin hung loosely over his emaciated form, and his weakness was so extreme, that he could only approach us by crawling on his hands and feet: Rarik and Lagediak went to meet and welcome him. It was my old acquaintance, Langediu, Tamon of Ormed. When our frigate lay at anchor before his island, he had not ventured, he said, to visit us, not knowing whether we were friends or foes; but when he heard that Totabu was arrived, he determined to make an effort to see me once more before his death. The old man crawled up to me and embraced me, shedding tears of joy; he talked a great deal, and spoke of Kadu being with Lamari in Aur.
On my former visit, the traces of old age were scarcely perceptible in Langediu; but in the intervening eight years they had increased rapidly; still, although his body was so weak that he could only crawl on all-fours, he retained all the faculties of his mind, all his original vivacity and good-humour, and his facetious remarks excited the merriment of the whole assembly. I have in many instances observed that at Radack, old age brings with it no particular disease, and that the mind remains unimpaired till its mortal covering sinks into the grave. A fine climate, moderate labour, and a vegetable diet, probably all contribute to produce this effect.
Langediu having intimated his wish to see the Oa ellip, I immediately rowed in my boat to the ship, followed by him in his Oa warro, or war canoe: he was much pleased with the vessel, and all that he saw, and not less so with the little presents he received; but a circumstance occurred that caused the honourable old man some chagrin: one of his attendants having concluded a friendship with the cook, took advantage of it to secrete a knife in his canoe; the cook missed the knife, and his suspicions immediately fell on his friend. His person and canoe were searched, and on the discovery of the stolen treasure the criminal confessed his fault. He trembled exceedingly, probably remembering the flogging one of his countrymen received on board the Rurik for a similar offence. As my stay was this time to be so short, I considered the flogging superfluous, and magnanimously forgave him, with a reproof, and an admonition never to steal again. Poor old Langediu was much hurt. He crawled about the ship in an agitated manner, exclaiming, Kabuderih emo aidarah (stealing not good), severely reprimanded, and threatened the offender,—showed him all the presents received from us, observing how much we must be shocked to be robbed, notwithstanding all our generosity. He then led him to the guns, made him remark their great number, and said, Manih Emich, manih ni, ma, (kill the island, kill the cocoa-trees, bread-fruit trees). Probably the old man had learned from Kadu the effect the guns would produce. After much chafing and scolding, he ordered the offender back into the canoe, and forbade him to come again on board:—not a word did the thief utter the whole time, and instantly obeyed the order to quit the vessel, but the old master could not be pacified. He frequently repeated, "Kabuderih emo aidarah," and his visit afforded him no more pleasure. He took an early leave of us, requesting that we would come to him on his island.
The face of the thief appeared familiar to me; and Lagediak, in answer to my inquiries, informed me, laughing, that this was the brother of the man who had been beaten on board the Rurik. The propensity to theft appears to be a family failing. No other Radacker during our stay attempted to purloin the smallest trifle.
In the afternoon, a large boat sailed through the Lagediak Straits into the basin. I flattered myself with the arrival of some of my friends from Aur, perhaps Kadu himself; but it was the gay Labugar from Eregub, brought hither by curiosity, having seen us sail past his island.
When he heard who the strangers were, he immediately came to the ship. His joy at seeing me again was very great; but he regretted much that his friend Timaro, with whom he had exchanged names, was not of our company. The spirits of Labugar had lost during eight years none of their sprightliness; but his face looked much older, and his hair had become grey.
The fine weather induced me on the 3rd of May to visit Langediu on the island of Ormed; he received me with the greatest joy, and offered me his most costly treasures as presents. The children, grand-children, and great-grand-children of the good old man assembled round his house, and represented a dramatic piece for my amusement, in which Langediu himself played a principal part, and astonished me by the animation of his action and singing. As this was one of the best representations I have seen in Radack, I will describe it, in the hope that my readers also will not be uninterested in it.
The number of the dramatis personæ was twenty-six, thirteen men and thirteen women, who seated themselves in the following order on a spot of smooth turf. Ten men sat in a semicircle, and opposite to them ten women in a semicircle also, so that by uniting the points, an entire circle would have been formed, but a space of about six feet was left at both ends, in each of which sat an old woman provided with a drum. This drum, made of the hollow trunk of a tree, is about three feet long, six inches in diameter at each end, narrowed like an hour-glass, to half that thickness in the middle. Both ends are covered with the skin of the shark: it is held under the arm, and struck with the palm of the hand. In the middle of the circle, old Langediu took his station with a handsome young woman, sitting back to back. The whole party were elegantly adorned about the head, and the females about the body also, with garlands of flowers. Outside the circle stood two men with muscle horns. The hollow tones of these horns are the signal for a chorus performed by the whole company, with violent movements of the arms and gesticulations meant to be in consonance with the words. When this ceased, a duet from the pair in the middle was accompanied by the drums and horns only; Langediu fully equalling his young companion in animation. The chorus then began again, and this alternation was repeated several times, till the young songstress whose motions had been growing more and more vehement, suddenly fell down as dead. Langediu's song then became lower and more plaintive: he bent over the body, and seemed to express the deepest sorrow; the whole circle joined in his lamentations, and the play concluded.
Deficient as was my knowledge of the language, I was still able clearly to understand the subject of this tragedy, which represented a marriage ceremony. The young girl was forced to accept of a husband whom she did not love, and preferred death to such an union. Perhaps the reason of old Langediu's playing the part of the lover might be, to give more probability to the young bride's objections and resolution.