Transcriber’s Notes

This is Volume II of II of this work, containing (after the front matter) page numbers 769-1481, chapters LXXVI-CLXX, and illustration numbers 212-443; Volume I contains (after the front matter) pages 11-768, chapters I-LXXV, and illustration numbers 1-211. For ease of reference, the [Table of Contents], [List of Illustrations] and [Index] have been included in both volumes. Hyperlinks have only been provided for links internal to this volume.

More information on the transcription and the changes made may be found in the [Transcriber’s Notes] at the end of this text.

The cover image has been created for this e-text and is in the public domain.

A REPRESENTATION OF UNCIVILIZED ISLANDERS AND INDIANS.

THE
UNCIVILIZED
RACES OF MEN
IN
ALL COUNTRIES OF THE WORLD;

BEING

A COMPREHENSIVE ACCOUNT OF THEIR MANNERS AND CUSTOMS,
AND OF THEIR PHYSICAL, SOCIAL, MENTAL, MORAL AND
RELIGIOUS CHARACTERISTICS.

BY

Rev. J. G. WOOD, M.A., F.L.S.

AUTHOR OF “ILLUSTRATED NATURAL HISTORY OF ANIMALS,” “ANECDOTES OF ANIMAL LIFE,” “HOMES
WITHOUT HANDS,” “BIBLE ANIMALS,” “COMMON OBJECTS OF THE COUNTRY AND SEASHORE,” ETC.

WITH NEW DESIGNS
BY ANGAS, DANBY, WOLF, ZWECKER, Etc., Etc.

IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. II.

HARTFORD:
THE J. B. BURR PUBLISHING CO.
1877.

PREFACE.

In this volume will be found a selection of the most interesting uncivilized tribes that inhabit, or once inhabited, America and the vast number of islands which lie between that country and the eastern coast of Asia, including among them the great groups of Australia and New Zealand. A short notice is given of the long-perished Lake-dwellers of Switzerland, and the partial civilization of India, China, Japan and Siam is also represented.

My best thanks are due to the Geographical and Anthropological Societies, for the constant access permitted to their libraries, and to the Curator of the “Christy Collection,” for the assistance which he rendered in the illustration of the work.

ILLUSTRATIONS.

CONTENTS
OF
VOLUME I.

CONTENTS
OF
VOLUME II.

CHAPTER LXXVI.
AUSTRALIA—Continued.
MEDICINE, SURGERY, AND THE DISPOSAL OF THE DEAD.

BILBOS, OR NATIVE DOCTORS — WOUNDS AND BRUISES — A STRANGE CURE — TREATMENT OF THE HEADACHE — A DREAM AND ITS RESULTS — THE MAGIC CRYSTAL, OR DOCTOR-STONE — ITS EFFECTS ON WOMEN AND CHILDREN — THE DOCTOR-HOUSE — SUCTION AS A MEANS OF CURE — BELIEF IN CHARMS — THE PARENT’S SKULL — CEREMONIES OF MOURNING — CUTTING THE HEAD AND BODY AS A SIGN OF WOE — DRIVING AWAY THE EVIL SPIRITS — FEAR OF GHOSTS — BURIAL AMONG THE PARNKALLAS AND NAUOS — THE TOMB OF SKULLS — A SUMMARY MODE OF BURIAL — FUNERAL OF BOYS — THE TREE-TOMBS — SMOKING THE WARRIORS — INCONSISTENT BEHAVIOR — BURIAL OF OLD WOMEN — THE WIDOWS’ CAPS — RELIGIOUS IDEAS OF THE ABORIGINES — THE VARIOUS EVIL SPIRITS — THE BUNYIP — ROCK AND CAVE PAINTINGS — THEORY OF TRANSMIGRATION.

We will now see how the Australian natives treat sickness of various kinds. Among them are certain personages called bilbos, or doctors, to whom the sick usually appeal in cases of illness or pain. It is not known, however, whether the mere fact of age gives a man the rank of bilbo, or whether it is attained by sundry ceremonials, as is the case with the Africans and other savages.

The most usual mode of treating any local disease or pain is by pressing the hands upon the affected part, and kneading it, a remedy which is found in every part of the world, and which is really efficacious in many complaints, especially in rheumatic affections, or in sprained or over-exerted muscles. If a limb be wounded, bruised, or sore, the native practitioners tie a fillet tightly above it, for the purpose, as they say, of preventing the malady from reaching the body. Headaches are treated by tying a bandage firmly round the temples, and, if the pain be obstinate, the doctors bleed the patient under the arm, using a sharp piece of quartz as a lancet. The flowing blood is never allowed to be wasted, but is received on the body of the operator, and diligently rubbed into the skin, under the notion that by this process both parties are strengthened. This depends, however, on the sex of the patient, women being never bled, nor allowed to have the blood of any other person sprinkled upon them.

About 1832, a curious disease broke out among the natives of Wellington Valley, resembling the small-pox in many things, and yet displaying symptoms which scarcely belong to that dread disease, the one fatal scourge of savage tribes. It was preceded by headache, fever, sore-throat, &c., and accompanied by pustules very much resembling those of the small-pox. It was, however, scarcely virulent enough for the real disease, though it was probably a milder form of it, and was subject to the power of vaccine matter. It was not limited to the natives, but attacked many Europeans just like the genuine small-pox, and in one case was fatal.

It is here mentioned on account of the mode of cure adopted by the native doctors. They punctured the pustules with sharp fish-bones, and squeezed them well with the blunt end of their rude lancets, and it is a noteworthy fact that the rate of mortality was very much reduced. Of course the doctors used other modes, whereby they gave their patients confidence in their powers. The chief of these was performed by means of a number of slender rods, six to nine feet in length, which were stuck in the ground in the form of a crescent, and addressed with long speeches and many mysterious gestures. Among the Australians, this disease, whatever it may be, does not strike the abject terror with which it is usually accompanied. Although they know that it is infectious, they do not abandon the sick person, unless perhaps the doctor pronounces the patient incurable; in which case they save him prolonged pain, and themselves useless trouble, by burying him alive. The native term for this disease is “thunna-thunna,” and it is known to have existed when the country was first discovered, so that it is not imported from civilized countries.

Another remarkable kind of cure for the headache is mentioned by Mr. Angas. The patient being seated on the ground, a string is tied round his head, the knot being carefully adjusted to the middle of the forehead. The operator, who is always a woman, seats herself opposite the patient, places the line between her lips, and frets them with it until they bleed freely. The idea is that the disease, attracted by the blood, passes along the line from the patient’s head, and is cast out together with the blood.

A very remarkable instance of this mode of cure is related in Tyerman and Bennett’s “Voyage round the World.” A man had dreamed that he had been speared in the side, and had died in consequence of the wound. Although, when he woke, he knew it was but a dream, he was so frightened that he became very ill, retired to his hut, chose the place of his burial, and lay down to die.

Nearly a week elapsed, during which he could take no food, grew worse and worse, and it was plain that nature would not hold out much longer. The priests—or rather sorcerers, for it cannot be ascertained that the New Hollanders have any other kind of priests, having, in fact, no religious worship—came to do what they could for him with their enchantments. By their order he was carried down to the side of a running water, and tumbled into the stream, where it was pretty deep, head foremost. When taken out, he was rolled in the sand till his body was quite encased with it. This again was washed off by pouring water over him.

“Meanwhile a young woman of the company was perceived plaiting a cord of kangaroo’s hair, which, when completed, was bound round his chest, and a knot, very cunningly implicated by one of the operators, was placed over that part of his side into which the spear of his dream had entered. From this knot a line was passed to the young woman who had prepared the bandage. This she drew through her mouth backward and forward (as children sometimes do with a piece of packthread) until she began to spit blood, which was said to be sucked by that process from the wound in the sick man’s side. There it was now perceptible that, from whatever cause, a considerable swelling had arisen under the knot. Toward this one of the sorcerers began to stroke the man’s flesh from all the adjacent regions of the back, belly, and chest, as though to force the blood thither. He then applied his mouth to the swelling, and, with hideous noises, sometimes sucked it with his lips, sometimes pressed it violently with his hands, till forth came the point of a spear, four inches in length, which he presented to the astonished spectators and the expecting sufferer, as verily extracted from the man’s side.

“Then he applied his mouth again to the swollen part, from which, although there was no visible wound, he appeared to draw blood and corrupt matter, stains of both being soon seen on the swarthy skin. At length, with distended cheeks, as though he had filled his mouth with the abominable matter, he ran about, anxiously looking for a fit place to discharge it upon; but, affecting to find none, he crossed the water, and deposited the nauseous extract behind a bush. The poor man’s hopes revived, and he now believed that he should get well again. Mr. Dunlop thereupon sent him some tea, which, however, he would not drink, but requested that it might be given to the sorcerer, and, if he drank it, then it would do himself (the patient) good. He was deceived, disappointed, and died.”

The Australians are tolerably good surgeons in a rough-and-ready sort of way, and are clever at setting broken limbs. After bringing the broken ends of the bone together, they support the limb by several pieces of wood which act as splints, and then make the whole secure by bandages, which they often strengthen with gum, exactly as is done in modern surgery.

One of the most powerful remedies employed by the native practitioners is the “doctor-stone.” This is nothing but a common quartz crystal; but the doctors aver that they manufacture it themselves, and that the ingredients are kept secret. Like the witarna, mentioned on page 747, women are never allowed even to look upon the doctor-stone, and are impressed with the belief that, if they dared to set their eyes upon the forbidden object, they would be immediately killed by its radiant powers. The larger the crystal, the more valuable is it; and a tolerably large one can scarcely be procured from the natives at any price.

The doctors say that this stone is not only fatal to women, but also destroys men if flung at them with certain incantations. An European settler once challenged a native doctor to say as many charms as he liked, and throw the magic stone as much as he pleased. This offer, however, he declined, giving the usual excuse of savages, that the white man belonged to a totally different order of beings, and, although the poor black fellow would die from the effects of the doctor-stone, the white man was much too powerful to be hurt by it.

The mode in which the crystal is used is very curious, and has been described by an eye-witness.

A native of the Tumat country, named Golong, was suffering from a spear wound received in a skirmish with a hostile tribe, and was brought to a bilbo, named Baramumbup, to be healed. The patient being laid on the ground outside the encampment so that women could not run the risk of death through the accidental sight of the crystal, the doctor began a close examination of the wound, and sucked it. He then retired to a distance from the patient, muttered some magic words for a minute or so, and placed the crystal in his mouth. Having retained it there for a short time, he removed it, spat on the ground, and with his feet trampled on the saliva, pressing it deeply into the ground. This was repeated several times, and the doctor took his leave.

For several successive evenings the whole of the process was gone through, and the recovery of the patient, which was really rapid, was attributed by all parties to the wonderful efficacy of the doctor-stone. “On making inquiry,” writes Dr. Bennett, “why the physician is so careful in trampling the saliva discharged from his mouth into the ground, no satisfactory reason could be obtained, a vague answer only being returned to the query. But it is not improbable that they consider, by this practice, that they finally destroy the power of the evil spirit, extracted by the operation through the virtues of the stone. Some such reason for this proceeding may be inferred from an observation made to any European who may be present at this part of the ceremony, ‘that he (i. e. the disease) may not come up again.’”

It is remarkable that a ceremony almost exactly identical in principle is employed by the Guaycura tribe of Brazil. Among them the doctors, or payés, cure local ailments, whether wounds or otherwise, by sucking the part affected, spitting into a hole dug in the ground, and then filling in the earth, as if to bury the complaint.

The Australian doctors make great use of the principle of suction, and employ it in all kinds of cases. If, for example, a patient has a bad pain in his stomach from overeating, or suffers more than he thinks right from the blow of a waddy, the doctor sucks at the afflicted part vigorously, and at last produces from his mouth a piece of bone, or some other hard substance, which he asserts to be the concentrated essence of the pain, or other ailment. The reader may remark that the bones with which the gums of youths are lanced in the ceremonies of initiation are supposed to be produced from the bodies of the operators by means of suction.

A very remarkable curative agent is shown in the illustration No. 3, page 765, which is taken from a sketch by Mr. Baines. It consists of a stone building, which at first sight looks so like an ordinary Druidical remain that it might be taken for one, except for its dimensions. Instead, however, of being composed of huge stones, each weighing several tons, it is quite a tiny edifice, scarcely larger than the grotto which children erect with oyster-shells. The patient lies in, or rather under it, the aperture being just wide enough to admit his body, and the small roof only covering a very small portion of the inmate. Sundry superstitious rites are employed at the same time, and the remedy is efficacious, like the crystal already mentioned, in consequence of enlisting the imagination of the sufferer.

These little buildings are found along the Victoria River, and for a considerable time the object for which they were built greatly puzzled the discoverers.

A medicine scarcely less efficacious than the doctor’s stone is human fat, which is carefully preserved, and administered by being rubbed in and around the affected part. As, however, it is highly valued by the warriors it is not easily procured, and, had it to be taken solely from the bodies of slain enemies, would in all probability never be used at all. The efficacy of this repulsive remedy does not depend on the individual from whom it is taken, that of a child or woman being quite as useful as that of a warrior.

According to Mr. G. T. Lloyd, the practice of deserting the helpless is found in Australia as well as in other countries, and is practised exactly as is the case in Africa. When a person is ill the relations, as a rule, do not trouble themselves to visit the sick person, and, when there is no apparent hope of recovery, a supply of food and firing enough to last them for several days is left near them, and they are then abandoned to their fate. Even in the case of poor old Tarmeenia, mentioned on page 747, the son, although he carried his wounded father more than four miles in order to place him in safety, never once came to see him.

Seeing that the natives place such implicit faith in the healing power of the doctor’s stone, it is natural that they should also believe in sundry charms as preservatives against disease and misfortune. One of these charms is a sort of girdle, several inches wide in the middle, and tapering to a mere thong at each end. If it be made of string prepared from the bulrush root, it is called Taara or Kuretti; and if made of human hair, it goes by the name Godlotti. It is used more as a curative than a preventive, and is mostly found among the tribes of the lower Murray River. The hair, when twisted into thread, is wound upon a curious spindle, consisting of two slender pieces of wood placed across each other at right angles.

Another charm is shown in the illustration No. 2, on the 765th page, slung round the neck of the boy. It is the beak of the black swan, which, from its scarlet color, contrasts well with the black skin of the wearer. The little boy’s name is Rimmilliperingery, and Mr. G. F. Angas remarks that he was an engaging little fellow, and had the largest and softest pair of dark eyes that could be imagined. The elder figure is that of a young man named Tyilkilli, belonging to the Parnkalla tribe of Port Lincoln. He has been selected as a favorable example of the Australian young man in good circumstances, well-fed, careless, and gay with the unthinking happiness of mere animal life, which finds a joy in the very fact of existence.

Among many of the tribes may be seen a strange sort of ornament, or rather utensil; namely, a drinking-cup made of a human skull. It is slung on cords and carried by them, and the owner takes it wherever he or she goes. These ghastly utensils are made from the skulls of the nearest and dearest relatives; and when an Australian mother dies, it is thought right that her daughter should form the skull of her mother into a drinking-vessel. The preparation is simple enough. The lower jaw is removed, the brains are extracted, and the whole of the skull thoroughly cleaned. A rope handle made of bulrush fibre is then attached to it, and it is considered fit for use. It is filled with water through the vertebral aperture, into which a wisp of grass is always stuffed, so as to prevent the water from being spilled.

Inconsistency is ever the attribute of savage minds. Although they consider that to convert the skull of a parent into a drinking vessel, and to carry it about with them, is an important branch of filial duty, they seem to have no very deep feelings on the subject. In fact, a native named Wooloo sold his mother’s skull for a small piece of tobacco. His mind was evidently not comprehensive enough to admit two ideas together, and the objective idea of present tobacco was evidently more powerful than the comparative abstraction of filial reverence.

Mr. Angas saw one which was carried by a little girl ten years of age. Like “Little Nell,” she was in attendance upon an old and infirm grandfather, and devoted her little life to him. In nothing was the difference of human customs shown more plainly than in the use of the mother’s skull as a drinking vessel—an act which we should consider as the acme of heathen brutality, but with these aborigines is held to be a duty owed by the child to the parent.

Perhaps my classical readers will remember a chapter in Herodotus which bears on this very subject. He finds fault with Cambyses for breaking into the temples of the Cabeiri, burning their idols, and so hurting the religious feelings of the people; and remarks that he was wary in offending against any religious sentiment, however absurd it might appear to himself. He then proceeds to tell an anecdote of Darius, who had at his court some “Indians called Callatians,” and some Greeks. He asked the Greeks (who always burned their dead, as the Hindoos do now), what bribe would induce them to eat the bodies of their dead parents, and they naturally replied that for no bribe could they perform so horrible a deed. Then, in the presence of the Greeks, he asked the Callatians, who ate their dead (as several savage nations do now), for what sum they would consent to burn the bodies of their dead. They, as it appears from the style of their answer, were even more shocked than the Greeks at the idea of such horrible sacrilege, and would not deign to give a direct answer, but begged Darius to “speak words of good omen.” (See Thalia, xxxvii. 8.)

A somewhat similar proceeding is narrated in the life of Nussir-er-deen, the late king of Oude. His native ministers, jealous of the influence exercised over him by some of his European friends, complained that the English guests treated the monarch with disrespect, by retaining their shoes in his royal presence. The king, who, enervated as he was by vanity, dissipation, self-indulgence, and flattery, was no fool, immediately proposed a compromise. “Listen to me, nawab; and you, general, listen to me. The King of England is my master, and these gentlemen would go into his presence with their shoes on. Shall they not come into mine, then? Do they come before me with their hats on? Answer me, your excellency.”

“They do not, your majesty.”

“No, that is their way of showing respect. They take off their hats, and you take off your shoes. But come now, let us have a bargain. Wallah! but I will get them to take off their shoes and leave them without, as you do, if you will take off your turban and leave it without, as they do.” (See Knighton’s “Private Life of an Eastern King.”)

We now come naturally to the burial of the dead, and the various ceremonies which accompany the time of mourning. Although the relatives seem so careless about the sick person, they really keep a watch, and, as soon as death actually takes place, they announce the fact by loud cries. The women are the principal mourners, and they continue to sob and shriek and moan until they are forced to cease from absolute exhaustion. They cut their bodies until the blood streams freely from their wounds, and some of them chop their own heads with their tomahawks until their shoulders and bodies are covered with blood.

The reader will probably have noticed how widely spread is this custom of wounding the body as a sign of mourning, and especially as a lamentation for the dead. We have seen that it exists in Africa, and we shall see that it is practised in many other countries. That it was practised in ancient days by the people among whom the Jews lived, we see from several passages of Scripture. See for example Deut. xiv. 1: “Ye shall not cut yourselves, nor make any baldness between your eyes for the dead.” Also Jer. xvi. 6: “They shall not be buried, neither shall men lament for them, nor cut themselves, nor make themselves bald for them.” There is also the well-known passage concerning the sacrifice that the priests of Baal offered, in the course of which they “cut themselves after their manner with knives and lancets, till the blood gushed out upon them.”

The body is not disposed of at once, but is suffered to remain for a considerable time, during which decomposition takes place, and is allowed to work its course until the flesh is separated from the bones. The body is watched carefully during the night; and if a passing meteor should appear in the sky, the people shout and wave firebrands in order to drive away a certain evil spirit named Yúmburbar, which is thought to be the real though invisible cause of death and all calamities, and to haunt the spot where a dead body lies for the purpose of feeding upon it.

When decomposition has done its work, the bones are carefully collected, cleaned, and painted red, after which they are wrapped up in bark, and carried about with the tribe for a time. This term being fulfilled, they are finally disposed of in various ways, according to the customs of the tribe to which they belonged. Some tribes scoop holes in soft rocks, and place the remains therein, while others prefer hollow trees for that purpose. Sometimes the body is placed in the cave without being reduced to a skeleton, and in some places the soil is of such a nature that the body becomes dried before decomposition can proceed very far. During the Exhibition of 1862 one of these desiccated bodies was exhibited in England, and called the “petrified” man. It was, however, nothing but a shrivelled and dried-up body, such as is often found in very dry soils.

Near the Murrumbidgee River, in the Wellington Valley, there is a remarkable stalactitic cavern, divided into several “halls.” This cavern is, or has been, a favorite burying-place of the aborigines, who seem to have employed it for the same purpose that Abraham purchased the cave of Machpelah. In consequence of the use of the cavern as a burial place, the natives are rather nervous about entering it, and they flatly refuse to venture into the darker recesses, for fear of the “dibbil-dibbil.” When Dr. Bennett visited it in 1832, he found in a small side cave the skeleton of a woman. The bones had been placed there nearly twenty years before.

The Parnkalla and Nauo tribes have another mode of burial, which somewhat resembles that which is employed by the Bechuanas. The body is placed in a crouching or squatting position, such as is employed by the natives when sitting, the knees being drawn up to the chin, the legs close to the body, and the hands clasped over the legs. Examples of this attitude may be seen in many of the illustrations. A circular pit or grave, about five feet in depth, is then dug, and after the body is lowered into the pit a number of sticks are laid over the grave, nearly touching one another. A thick layer of leaves and another of grass are then placed on the sticks, and over all is heaped the earth which has been dug out of the pit, so that the grave looks something like a huge anthill.

In Northern Australia the natives have a curious method of disposing of the dead. They gather the skulls together, and heap them into a circular mound, placing stones round them to keep them in their places. They do not cover the skulls, but make the tomb in an open and conspicuous place. Such a tomb is illustrated on page 765.

The blacks of the Clarence River build monuments which are somewhat similar in appearance, but are made of different materials. They place a number of stones in a circle, and in the centre they erect an upright slab of stone. They can give no reason for this custom, but only say that “black-fella make it so,” or “it belong to black-fella.” The former reply signifies that the custom has always prevailed among the natives; and the second, that the tomb shows that a native lies buried beneath the upright stone.

Some of the tribes along the Clarence River have a curious mode of disposing of the dead—a mode which certainly has its advantages in its great economy of trouble. When an old man feels that the hand of death is on him, he looks out for a hollow tree, climbs it, lets himself down to the bottom of the hollow, and so dies in his tomb.

In New South Wales the young people are buried beneath small tumuli, but the adults are buried in a rather curious fashion. A pile of dry wood, leaves, &c. is built, about three feet in height and six or seven in length. On the pile the body is laid on its back, having the face directed toward the rising sun. The fishing apparatus, spears, and other weapons and implements of the dead man are next laid on the pile, and the body is then covered over with large logs of wood. The pile is fired by the nearest relative, and on the following day, when the place is cool, the ashes of the dead are collected, and carefully buried.

Should a woman die, leaving an unweaned child, the poor little creature is buried together with the ashes of its mother. The natives defend this practice as a humane one, saying, with savage justice, that it is better to kill the child speedily than to allow it to pine to death from starvation.

As is the case with many tribes in different parts of the world, as soon as any one dies the name borne by the deceased is no more mentioned. So strictly is this rule observed, that if another member of the tribe should happen to bear the same name, it must be abandoned, and a new name taken, by which the bearer will ever afterward be known.

Mr. Angas, to whom we are indebted for so much of our knowledge of the Australians, gives an interesting account of the burial of a boy, as described to him by an eye-witness:

“Previously to burying the corpse of the boy, a contest with clubs and spears took place, but no injury was done to the parties engaged. The body was placed in a bark canoe, cut to the proper length, a spear, a fishing-spear, and a throwing-stick, with several other articles, being placed besides the corpse. The women and children made great lamentations during the ceremony, and the father stood apart, a picture of silent grief.

“The canoe was placed on the heads of two natives, who proceeded with it slowly toward the grave; some of the attendants waving tufts of dried grass backward and forward under the canoe and amongst the bushes as they passed along. The grave being dug, a native strewed it with grass, and stretched himself at full length in the grave, first on his back and then on his side. As they were about to let down the child into the grave, they first pointed to the deceased and then to the skies, as though they had a vague idea that the spirit had ascended to another world.

“The body was then laid in the grave, with the face looking toward the rising sun, and, in order that the sunshine might fall upon the spot, care was taken to cut down all shrubs around that could in any way obstruct its beams. Branches were placed over the grave, grass and boughs on them, and the whole was crowned with a log of wood, on which a native extended himself for some minutes, with his face to the sky.”

At the beginning of this description is mentioned a sham fight. This is held in consequence of a curious notion prevalent among the aborigines, that death from natural causes must be ransomed with blood. It suffices if blood be drawn even from a friend, and the mode by which they make the required offering, and at the same time gratify their combative nature, is by getting up a sham fight, in which some one is nearly sure to be wounded more or less severely.

Sometimes the body of the dead man is disposed of rather oddly. In some parts of Australia the natives, instead of consuming the body by fire, or hiding it in caves or in graves, make it a peculiarly conspicuous object. Should a tree grow favorably for their purpose, they will employ it as the final resting-place of the dead body. Lying in its canoe coffin, and so covered over with leaves and grass that its shape is quite disguised, the body is lifted into a convenient fork of the tree, and lashed to the boughs by native ropes. No further care is taken of it, and if, in process of time, it should be blown out of the tree, no one will take the trouble of replacing it.

Should no tree be growing in the selected spot, an artificial platform is made for the body, by fixing the ends of stout branches in the ground, and connecting them at their tops by smaller horizontal branches. Such are the curious tombs which are represented in the [illustration No. 3], on page 775. These strange tombs are mostly placed among the reeds, so that nothing can be more mournful than the sound of the wind as it shakes the reeds below the branch in which the corpse is lying. The object of this aerial tomb is evident enough, namely, to protect the corpse from the dingo, or native dog. That the ravens and other carrion-eating birds should make a banquet upon the body of the dead man does not seem to trouble the survivors in the least, and it often happens that the traveller is told by the croak of the disturbed ravens that the body of a dead Australian is lying in the branches over his head.

The aerial tombs are mostly erected for the bodies of old men who have died a natural death; but when a young warrior has fallen in battle the body is treated in a very different manner. A moderately high platform is erected, and upon this is seated the body of the dead warrior, with the face toward the rising sun. The legs are crossed, and the arms kept extended by means of sticks. The fat is then removed, and, after being mixed with red ochre, is rubbed over the body, which has previously been carefully denuded of hair, as is done in the ceremony of initiation. The legs and arms are covered with zebra-like stripes of red, white, and yellow, and the weapons of the dead man are laid across his lap.

The body being thus arranged, fires are lighted under the platform, and kept up for ten days or more, during the whole of which time the friends and mourners remain by the body, and are not permitted to speak. Sentinels relieve each other at appointed intervals, their duty being to see that the fires are not suffered to go out, and to keep the flies away by waving leafy boughs or bunches of emu feathers. When a body has been treated in this manner, it becomes hard and mummy-like, and the strangest point is, that the wild dogs will not touch it after it has been so long smoked. It remains sitting on the platform for two months or so, and is then taken down and buried, with the exception of the skull, which is made into a drinking-cup for the nearest relative, as has already been mentioned.

(1.) CARVED FEATHER BOX, NEW ZEALAND.
(See [page 813].)

(2.) SMOKING THE BODIES OF SLAIN WARRIORS. (See [page 777].)

(3.) TREE TOMBS OF AUSTRALIA. (See [page 774].)

Considering the trouble which is taken in the preparation of these bodies, and the evident respect which is felt for a brave warrior in death as well as in life, the after treatment of them is very remarkable. When a friend, or even an individual of the same tribe, sees one of these mummified bodies for the first time, he pays no honor to it, but loads it with reproaches, abusing the dead man for dying when the tribe stood in such need of brave and skilful men, and saying that he ought to have known better than to die when there was plenty of food in the country. Then, after contemplating the body for some time, he hurls his spear and club at it, crying out at the same time, “Why did you die? Take that for dying.”

In the [illustration No. 2], on page 775, two of these bodies are seen seated on the platform, supported by being tied to the uprights by their hands and heads, and having their weapons in their laps. On one side is one of the sentinels engaged in driving away the flies with his flapper, and on the other is a second sentinel bringing fuel for the fire. The seated figures belong to the same tribe.

Around Portland Bay, and toward the south-eastern parts of the continent, the natives have a curious combination of entombment and burning. They let the dead body down into one of the hollow trees, where it is supported in an upright position. A quantity of dry leaves and grass is then heaped upon the tree, and the whole consumed by fire, amid the dismal screams and cries of the women.

It is rather curious that funeral ceremonies are only employed in the case of those whose death is supposed to be a loss to the tribe. Men, and even boys, are therefore honored with funeral rites, because the younger men are warriors, the boys would have been warriors, and the old men have done service by arms, and are still useful for their wisdom. Even young women are buried with some amount of show, because they produce children for the tribe.

But of all beings an old woman is most utterly despised. She can render no service; she has never been considered as anything but a mere domesticated animal, and even for domestic purposes she has ceased to be useful. When she dies, therefore, no one regrets her. She is nothing but a useless burden on her people, consuming food which she does not earn, and sitting by the fire when the younger women are engaged in work. It is nothing to them that she has worn herself out in the hard, thankless, and never ceasing labor which constitutes the life of an Australian woman, and so when she dies her body is drawn away out of the camp by the heels, and stuffed away hastily in some hollow tree or cave that may be most convenient. Sometimes the body is laid on a bough, as has already been described; but even in such a case it is merely laid on the branch, without being placed in a canoe, or covered with matting, boughs, and leaves, as is the case with the bodies of men. The corpse is allowed to remain on the branch until it falls to pieces; and when any of her relatives choose to take the trouble, they will scrape a hole in the sand and bury the scattered bones.

The shee-oak, or casuarina, is the tree which is generally selected for this purpose, partly because it is one of the commonest trees of Australia, and partly because the peculiar growth of its boughs affords a firm platform for the corpse.

The time of mourning does not cease with the funeral, nor, in case of a tree-tomb, with the subsequent interment of the bones. At stated times the women, by whom the mourning is chiefly performed, visit the tomb, and with their kattas, or digging-sticks, peck up the earth around them, and make the place look neat. This done they sit down and utter their most doleful cries and lamentations. In some places they content themselves with vocal lamentations, but in others the women think it necessary to show their grief by repeating the head chopping, limb scarring, and other marks of blood-letting which accompany that portion of the funeral ceremonies.

In one part of Australia, near the north-west bend of the Murray, a most remarkable custom prevails. Widows attend upon the tombs of their dead husbands, and, after shaving their heads, cover them with pipe-clay kneaded into a paste. The head is first covered with a net, to prevent the pipe-clay from sticking too tightly to the skin, a misfortune which is partly averted by the amount of grease with which every Australian is anointed.

A layer of this clay more than an inch in thickness is plastered over the head, and when dry it forms a skull-cap exactly fitting the head on which it was moulded, and on account of its weight, which is several pounds, must be very uncomfortable to the wearer. These badges of mourning may be found lying about near the tumuli, and, until their real use was discovered, they were very mysterious objects to travellers. In the [illustration No. 1], on the 781st page, is seen a burying place near the river. Several of the mound tombs of the natives are shown, and in the foreground are two widows, seated in the peculiar attitude of Australian women, and wearing the widow’s cap of pipe-clay. Several other caps are lying near the tombs, having been already employed in the ceremonies of mourning.

So careful are the natives of the marks of respect due from the survivors to the dead, that a widow belonging to one of the tribes on the Clarence River was put to death because she neglected to keep in order the tomb of her late husband, and to dig up periodically the earth around it.

From the disposal of the dead, we are naturally led to the religious belief of the Australians. Like all savages, they are very reticent about their religious feelings, concealing as far as possible their outward observances from the white people, and avowing ignorance, if questioned respecting the meaning of those which have become known to the strangers. Some observances, however, have been explained by Gi’ôm, the unfortunate Scotch woman who had to reside so long among the Kowráregas, and others by native converts to Christianity. Even these latter have not been able to shake off the superstitious ideas which they had contracted through the whole of their previous lives, and there is no doubt that they concealed much from their interrogators, and, if pressed too closely, wilfully misled them.

The following short account will, however, give an idea of the state of religious feeling among the aborigines, as far as can be ascertained. And, in consequence of the rapid and steady decrease of the native tribes, it is possible that our knowledge of this subject will never be greater than it is at present.

In the first place, there are no grounds for thinking that the aborigines believe in any one Supreme Deity, nor, in fact, in a deity of any kind whatever. As is usual with most savage nations, their belief in supernatural beings is limited to those who are capable of doing mischief, and, although the conception of a beneficent spirit which will do good never seems to enter an Australian’s mind, he believes fully, in his misty fashion, in the existence of many evil spirits which will do harm.

Of these there are many. One of them is the Arlak, a being which takes the shape of a man. It is only seen at night, and is in the habit of watching for stragglers in the dark, seizing them and carrying them off. Several natives told Mr. M’Gillivray that they had seen the arlak; and one man, who had summoned enough courage to fight it when it attacked him, showed the marks of the demon’s teeth upon his body. Fortunately, the arlak cannot endure light, and therefore the natives, if they have to go the smallest distance in the dark, take a fire-stick in one hand and a weapon of some sort in the other.

One kind of evil spirit, which is very much dreaded by the aborigines, is the one in whom death is personified. He is short, thick, very ugly, and has a disagreeable smell. The natives of the Moorundi district believe in a native spirit, wonderfully similar in attributes to the Necker of German mythology. Although, according to their accounts, it is very common, they have great difficulty in describing it, and, as far as can be ascertained from their statements, it is like a huge star-fish. This demon inhabits the fresh water, or there might have been grounds for believing it to be merely an exaggeration of the cuttle-fish.

Throughout the greater part of Australia is found the belief in the Bunyip, a demon which infests woods, and which has been seen, as is said, not only by natives but by white men. The different accounts of the animal vary extremely. Some who have seen it aver it to be as large as a horse, to have a pair of eyes as big as saucers, and a pair of enormous horns.

Others give a very different account of it, and one of the Barrabool Hill natives gave a very animated description of the dreaded bunyip. He illustrated his lecture by a spirited drawing, in which the bunyip was represented as having a long neck and head, something like that of the giraffe, a thick flowing mane, and two short and massive fore-legs, each of which was armed with four powerful talons. The entire body was covered with strong scales, overlapping each other like those of the hawksbill turtle. This creature he represented as half beast, half demon, and vaunted the superior courage of his ancestors, who ventured to oppose this terrible creature as it lay in wait for their wives and children, and drove it out of the reeds and bush into the water whence it came.

Thinking that some large and now extinct beast might have lived in Australia, which might have been traditionally known to the aborigines, scientific men have taken particular pains to ransack those portions of the country which they could reach, in hopes of finding remains which might be to Australia what those of the megatherium and other huge monsters are to the Old World. Nothing of the kind has, however, been found. Some very large bones were once discovered on the banks of a shallow salt lagoon (just the place for the bunyip), but when sent to the British Museum they were at once found to be the remains of a gigantic kangaroo. At present, the legend of the bunyip stands on a level with that of the kraken—every native believes it, some aver that they have seen it, but no one has ever discovered the least tangible proof of its existence.

To these evil spirits the natives attribute every illness or misfortune, and in consequence are anxious to avoid or drive them away. All meteors are reckoned by them among the evil spirits, and are fancifully thought to be ghosts which multiply by self-division. The aborigines think, however, that by breathing as loudly as they can, and repeating some cabalistic words, they disarm the demons of their power.

They have one very curious belief,—namely, that any one who ventured to sleep on the grave of a deceased person, he would ever afterward be freed from the power of evil spirits. The ordeal is, however, so terrible that very few summon up sufficient courage to face it. “During that awful sleep the spirit of the deceased would visit him, seize him by the throat, and, opening him, take out his bowels, which it would afterward replace, and close up the wound! Such as are hardy enough to go through this terrible ordeal—encounter the darkness of the night and the solemnity of the grave—are thenceforth ‘koradjee’ men, or priests, and practise sorcery and incantations upon the others of their tribe.”

In Southern Australia, the natives believe that the sun and moon are human beings, who once inhabited the earth. The planets are dogs belonging to the moon, who run about her; and the various constellations are groups of children. An eclipse of either the sun or moon is looked upon as a terrible calamity, being sure to be the forerunner of disease and death.

All burial-places of the dead are held as liable to be haunted by evil spirits, and are therefore avoided. Promontories, especially those which have rocky headlands, are also considered as sacred; and it is probably on account of that idea that the skull monuments, mentioned on [page 773], are raised.

Some of these places are rendered interesting by specimens of native drawings, showing that the aborigines of Australia really possess the undeveloped elements of artistic power. Owing to the superstition which prevails, the natives can scarcely be induced to visit such spots, giving as their reason for refusing that “too much dibbil-dibbil walk there.” Mr. Angas was fortunate enough, however, to discover a considerable number of these drawings and carvings, and succeeded in impressing into his service an old native woman. His description is so vivid, that it must be given in his own words:—

“The most important result of our rambles around the bays and rocky promontories of Port Jackson was the discovery of a new and remarkable feature connected with the history of the natives formerly inhabiting this portion of New South Wales.

“I refer to their carvings in outline, cut into the surface of flat rocks in the neighborhood, and especially on the summits of the various promontories about the harbors of the coast. Although these carvings exist in considerable numbers, covering all the flat rocks upon many of the headlands overlooking the water, it is a singular fact that up to the present time they appear to have remained unobserved; and it was not until my friend Mr. Miles first noticed the rude figure of a kangaroo cut upon the surface of a flat rock near Camp Cove, that we were led to make a careful search for these singular and interesting remains of a people who are now nearly extinct.

“About a dozen natives of the Sydney and Broken Bay tribes were encamped amongst the bushes on the margin of a small fresh-water lake, close to Camp Cove; and from amongst them we selected ‘Old Queen Gooseberry’ (as she is generally styled by the colonists) to be our guide, promising her a reward of flour and tobacco if she would tell us what she knew about these carvings, and conduct us to all the rocks and headlands in the neighborhood where like figures existed. At first the old woman objected, saying that such places were all koradjee ground, or ‘priest’s ground,’ and that she must not visit them; but at length, becoming more communicative, she told us all she knew, and all that she had heard her father say, respecting them. She likewise consented at last to guide us to several spots near the North Land, where she said the carvings existed in greater numbers; as also the impressions of hands upon the sides of high rocks.

“With some difficulty we prevailed upon the haggard old creature to venture with us into a whale-boat; so, with Queen Gooseberry for our guide, we crossed to the North Land. After examining the flat rocks in every direction, we found sufficient examples of these singular outlines to confirm at once the opinion that they were executed by the aboriginal inhabitants; but at what period is quite uncertain. From the half-obliterated state of many of them (although the lines are cut nearly an inch deep into the hard rock), and from the fact that from several of them we were compelled to clear away soil and shrubs of long-continued growth, it is evident that they have been executed a very long time.

“At first we could not bring ourselves to believe that these carvings were the work of savages, and we conjectured that the figure of the kangaroo might have been the work of some European; but when, pursuing our researches further, we found all the most out-of-the-way and least accessible headlands adorned with similar carvings, and also that the whole of the subjects represented indigenous objects—such as kangaroos, opossums, sharks, the heileman or shield, the boomerang, and, above all, the human figure in the attitudes of the corrobboree dances—we could come to no other conclusion than that they were of native origin. Europeans would have drawn ships, and horses, and men with hats upon their heads, had they attempted such a laborious and tedious occupation.

“An old writer on New South Wales, about the year 1803, remarks, when referring to the natives, ‘They have some taste for sculpture, most of their instruments being carved with rude work, effected with pieces of broken shell; and on the rocks are frequently to be seen various figures of fish, clubs, swords, animals, &c., not contemptibly represented.’

“Some of the figures of fish measured twenty-five feet in length; and it is curious that the representations of the shield exactly corresponded with that used by the natives of Port Stephens at the present day. These sculptured forms prove that the New Hollanders exercised the art of design, which has been questioned, and they also serve to corroborate Captain Grey’s discoveries of native delineations in caves upon the north-west coast of Australia, during his expedition of discovery. At Lane Cove, at Port Aiken, and at Point Piper, we also met with similar carvings. Whilst on a visit at the latter place, it occurred to me that on the flat rocks at the extremity of the grounds belonging to the estate where I was staying, there might be carvings similar to those at the Heads; and on searching carefully I found considerable numbers of them in a tolerably perfect state of preservation. Of all these I took measurements, and made careful fac-simile drawings on the spot.”

In the appendix to his work, Mr. Angas gives reduced copies of these figures, some of which are executed with wonderful spirit and fidelity. Even the human figures, which are shown with extended arms and spread legs, as in the dance, are far better than those usually drawn by savages, infinitely superior to those produced by the artists of Western Africa, while some of the animals are marvellously accurate, reminding the observer of the outline drawings upon Egyptian monuments. The best are, perhaps, a shark and a kangaroo. The latter is represented in the attitude of feeding.

In some parts of Australia, the carvings and paintings are usually in caves by the water’s edge, and of such a character is the cave which is shown in the [illustration No. 2], on the following page. These caves are in sandstone rock, and the figures upon them are mostly those of men and kangaroos, and it is a remarkable fact that in the human figures, although their eyes, noses, and even the joints of the knees, are boldly marked, the mouth is invariably absent.

Human hands and arms are often carved on rocks. One very remarkable example was discovered by Captain Grey in North-West Australia. When penetrating into a large cave, out of which ran a number of smaller caves, the explorers were struck by a really astonishing trick of native art. The sculptor had selected a rock at the side of the cavity, and had drawn upon it the figure of a hand and arm. This had then been painted black, and the rock around it colored white with pipe-clay, so that on entering the cave it appeared exactly as if the hand and arm of a black man were projecting through some crevice which admitted light.

Their belief in ghosts implies a knowledge that the spirit of man is immortal. Yet their ideas on this subject are singularly misty, not to say inconsistent, one part of their belief entirely contradicting the other. They believe, for example, that when the spirit leaves the body, it wanders about for some time in darkness, until at last it finds a cord, by means of which a “big black-fella spirit” named Oomudoo pulls it up from the earth. Yet they appropriate certain parts of the earth as the future residence of the different tribes, the spirits of the departed Nauos being thought to dwell in the islands of Spencer’s Gulf, while those of the Parnkallas go to other islands toward the west. As if to contradict both ideas, we have already seen that throughout the whole of Australia the spirits of the dead are supposed to haunt the spots where their bodies lie buried.

And, to make confusion worse confounded, the aborigines believe very firmly in transmigration, some fancying that the spirits of the departed take up their abode in animals, but by far the greater number believing that they are transformed into white men. This latter belief was put very succinctly by a native, who stated in the odd jargon employed by them, that “when black-fella tumble down, he jump up all same white-fella.”

This idea of transmigration into the forms of white men is very remarkable, as it is shared by the negro of Africa, who could not have had any communication with the black native of Australia. And, still more strangely, like the Africans, they have the same word for a white man and for a spirit. The reader may remember that when Mrs. Thompson was captured by the natives, one of them declared that she was his daughter Gi’ôm, who had become a white woman, and the rest of the tribe coincided in the belief. Yet, though she became for the second time a member of the tribe, they always seemed to feel a sort of mistrust, and often, when the children were jeering at her on account of her light complexion and ignorance of Australian accomplishments, some elderly person would check them, and tell them to leave her in peace, as, poor thing, she was nothing but a ghost.

It has been found, also, that numbers of white persons have been recognized by the blacks as being the spirits of their lost relatives, and have in consequence been dignified with the names of those whom they represented. Mr. M’Gillivray mentions that the natives of Port Essington have a slight modification of this theory, believing that after death they become Malays.

Of their belief in the metempsychosis, or transmigration into animal forms, there are but few examples. Dr. Bennett mentions that on one occasion, at Bérana Plains, when an European was chasing one of the native animals, a native who was with him begged him not to kill it, but to take it alive, as it was “him brother.” When it was killed, he was very angry, and, as a proof his sincerity, refused to eat any of it, continually grumbling and complaining of the “tumbling down him brother.”

(1.) AUSTRALIAN WIDOWS AND THEIR CAPS.
(See [page 777].)

(2.) CAVE WITH NATIVE DRAWINGS.
(See [page 780].)

The Nauo tribe preserve a tradition which involves this metempsychosis. Once upon a time, a certain great warrior, named Willoo, fought their tribe, and carried off all the women, and killed all the men except two. The survivors climbed up a great tree, followed by Willoo. They, however, broke off the branch on which he was climbing, so that he fell to the ground, and was seized by a dingo below, when he immediately died, and was changed into an eagle hawk, which has ever afterward been called by the name of Willoo.

The same tribe think that a small lizard was the originator of the sexes, and in consequence call it by different names; the men using the term ibirri, and the women waka. Following up the idea, the men kill every male lizard that they can find, while the women do the same by the females.

Connected with this subject is their idea of creation. Of a single Creator of all things they have not the least notion, but they possess some traditions as to the origin of men or natural objects. The Kowrárega tribe say that the first created man was a huge giant named Adi. One day, while he was fishing off Hammond Island, he was caught by the tide and drowned, a great rock starting up to mark the spot. This is now called Hammond’s Rock. His wives saw his fate, committed suicide by flinging themselves into the sea, and were immediately changed into a series of dry rocks on a neighboring reef. These rocks are still called by the natives Ipīle, i. e. the Wives.

The natives of the Lower Murray have a curious tradition respecting the origin of the river, and the Alexandrina and Albert Lakes. The river was made by Oomudoo, the “big black-fella spirit,” already mentioned. He came down from the sky in his canoe, and ordered the water to rise and form the river, which he then clothed with bulrushes and populated with fish. He brought two wives with him, but they unfortunately proved intractable, and ran away from him, whereupon Oomudoo made the two lakes in question, one of which drowned each wife.

CHAPTER LXXVII.
AUSTRALIA—Concluded.
ARCHITECTURE AND BOAT-BUILDING.

PARALLEL BETWEEN THE BOSJESMAN AND THE AUSTRALIAN — MODES OF BUILDING HUTS — A SUMMER ENCAMPMENT — RUDE NATURE OF THE HUTS — RETREATS OF THE WOMEN — BONE HUTS OF ENCOUNTER BAY — WINTER HOUSES — HUTS NEAR THE COORUNG — FIRE-MAKING — BIRD-SNARING — A SELF-ACTING SNARE — BOAT-BUILDING — USES OF THE STRINGY BARK — A FRAIL VESSEL — CANOE FOR GENERAL USE — THE REED CANOE — GRADUAL EXTINCTION OF NATIVE TRIBES.

In many points the Australian savage bears a curious resemblance to the Bosjesman of Southern Africa, of whom a full account has already been given at 242-268 page.

So similar, indeed, are they, that the colonists use the word Bushman to designate the native savage, just as they call the spotted dasyure by the name of cat, and the wombat by that of badger. Much confusion has consequently arisen; and there is now before me a book descriptive of savage life, in which the author has mixed up the Bosjesman of Africa and the Bushman of Australia in the most amusing manner, actually transplanting a quotation from a book of African travels into the account of Australia.

Like the Bosjesman, the Australian depends upon his weapons for the greater part of his food, living almost entirely upon the game which he kills, and being skilled in the art of destroying the wariest and most active of animals with the simplest of weapons. He lives in a state of perpetual feud, his quarrels not being worthy of the name of warfare; and his beau idéal of a warrior is a man who steals upon his enemy by craft, and kills his foe without danger to himself.

He cultivates no land, neither has he the least notion of improving his social condition. He cares nothing for clothes, except, perhaps, as a partial shelter from the elements, and utterly ridicules the notion that there is any connexion between clothing and modesty.

Indeed, on one occasion, when a girl had been presented with a petticoat by a white lady, and returned to her people, displaying with pride her newly acquired property, her companions instead of displaying envy at her finery, only jeered at her, inquiring whether she thought herself so much better than her forefathers, that she should want to wear clothes like the white strangers. The consequence was, that in a day or two the solitary garment was thrown aside, and she walked about as before, in the primitive accoutrements of her tribe.

Like the African Bosjesman, the Australian native has no settled home, although he considers himself as having a right to the district in which his tribe have taken up their abode. Contrary to the usage of civilized life, he is sensitive on the general question, and careless in detail. With civilized beings the hearth and home take the first place in the affections, the love of country being merely an extension of the love of home. With the Australian, however, as well as the Bosjesman, the case is just reversed. He has no home, and cares not for any one spot more than another, except that some spots are sheltered and others exposed. He passes a semi-nomad existence, not unlike that of the Arab, save that instead of pitching his tent on a convenient spot, and taking it away when he leaves it, he does not trouble himself even to carry the simple materials of a tent, but builds a rude hut in any spot which he may happen to fancy, and leaves it to decay when he forsakes the spot.

The chief object of the ordinary hut made by an Australian savage is to defend the inmates from the cold south-west breezes. Consequently, the entrances of the huts may be found, as a rule, turned toward the north-east, whence come the warm winds that have passed over the equator.

The summer encampment (see [page 787]) of an Australian family is very simple. A number of leafy boughs are stuck in the ground in a semicircular form, the size of the enclosed space varying with the number of the family. These boughs are seldom more than four feet in height, and often scarcely exceed a yard, their only object being to keep off the wind from the fire, and from the bodies of the natives as they squat round the flame or lie asleep. That any one should expect a shelter while he is standing never seems to enter the imagination of an Australian savage, who, like other savages, never dreams of standing when he can sit, or, indeed, of taking any trouble that is not absolutely necessary.

All the stories that are told of the industry of savage life are pure inventions, and if labor be, as we are often told, the truest nobility, we ought to hear no more of the “noble savage.” Consistently with this idea, the native Australian’s only idea of the hut is a place where he can sit and gorge himself with food, and lie down to sleep after his enormous meal. A fence a yard in height is therefore quite good enough for him, and, as long as no rain falls, he thinks a roof to be a needless expenditure of labor.

In the [illustration] referred to we have an example of an encampment on which the natives have bestowed rather more care than usual, and have actually taken the pains to form the branches into rude huts. The spears, shields, and other weapons of the natives are seen scattered about, while round the fire sit or lie the men who have satisfied their hunger. The reader will perceive that from a little distance such an encampment would be almost invisible; and, indeed, except by the thin smoke of the fire, the most practised eye can scarcely detect the spot where natives are encamping. Even the spears which project above the bush huts look at a little distance merely like dried sticks; and, if the inhabitants be very anxious to escape observation, they establish their encampment in a retired spot, where the surrounding objects harmonize as closely as possible with the rude shelter which answers all their needs.

In many places the natives construct a habitation similar in principle, but differing in structure. Should the locality abound in the eucalypytus, or stringy-bark tree, the natives make a hut altogether different in appearance. With wonderful dexterity, they strip off the bark of the tree in large flakes, six or seven feet in length. A few large branches of trees are then laid on the ground, so that they form a rough sort of framework, and upon these branches the flakes of bark are laid. An hour’s labor will make one of these huts, so that the natives have really no inducement to take any care of them. Even the very best hut which a native Australian ever made would be inferior to the handiwork of an English boy of ten years old. For my own part, I remember building far better huts than those of the Australians, though I was at the time much below ten years of age, and had gained all my knowledge of practical architecture from “Sandford and Merton.”

There is, however, one great advantage in these bark huts—namely, the rapidity with which they can be made, and the shelter which they really do give from the traveller’s great enemy, the night wind. Even European travellers have been glad to avail themselves of these simple structures, and have appreciated the invaluable aid of a few sheets of bark propped against a fallen branch. Those who have been forced to travel without tents through a houseless country have learned by experience that the very best shelter from the night winds is not height, but width. A tree, for example, forms but a very poor shelter, while a low wall barely eighteen inches high and six feet in length keeps off the wind, and enables the wearied traveller to rest in comparative comfort. Such a shelter is easily made from the sheets of stringy bark, one or two of which will form a shelter for several sleepers.

Perhaps the simplest huts that human beings ever dignified by the name of habitation are those which are made by the women of a tribe when the men are away. It sometimes happens that the whole of the adult males go off on an expedition which will last for a considerable time—such, for example, as a raid upon a neighboring tribe—leaving the women and children to take care of themselves. These, knowing that they might be pounced upon by enemies who would take advantage of the absence of their defenders, retire into the recesses of the woods, where they build the oddest houses imaginable, half burrows scraped among the roots of trees, and half huts made of bark and decayed wood. These habitations are so inconspicuous that even the practised eye of the native can scarcely discover them.

On the shores of Encounter Bay may be seen some very curious habitations. Every now and then a whale is thrown ashore by a tempest; and in such a case the tribes of the neighborhood flock round it with great rejoicings, seeing in it an unlimited supply of food. Huge as the animal may be, it is ere long consumed, and nothing left but the skeleton. Of the bones the natives make the framework of their huts, the ends of the ribs being fixed in the ground, so that the bones form the supports of the arched roof, which is nothing more than boughs, grass, and matting thrown almost at random upon the bony framework.

During the winter time the native huts are of better construction, although the best hut that an Australian ever made is but a very rude and primitive specimen of architecture. These winter huts are made on the same principle as those employed in summer, but the materials are more closely put together. The framework of these huts is made by sticking a number of saplings in the ground, and tying them together. Smaller branches and twigs are then passed in and out of the uprights, and pressed down to make a tolerably firm wall. Over the wall comes a layer of large leaves, and an outer covering of tea-tree bark is placed over the trees, and held in its place by a lashing of rattan. These houses are about five feet in height, and have an arched opening just large enough for a man to enter on his hands and knees.

Such huts as these, however, are but seldom seen, the ordinary winter dwellings being made of bushes, as seen in an [illustration] on the next page. Near the entrance, but not within it, the fire is kindled, and at night the natives crowd into the hut, filling it so completely that a view of the interior displays nothing but a confused mass of human limbs. The reader will perceive that the luxury of a door has not been contemplated by the native architects—an omission which is perhaps rather fortunate, considering the crowded state of the interior.

Along the shores of the Coorung a rather peculiar kind of habitation is used. It must first be mentioned that the Coorung is a back-water inlet of the sea, running parallel to it for some ninety miles or so, never more than a mile and a half from the sea, and divided from it only by a range of enormous sandhills. It is a wild and desolate place, but is inhabited by the Milmendura tribe, who made themselves so notorious for the massacre of the passengers and men of the ship Maria. The natives probably like the spot, because in the Coorung, which is protected from the ocean waves by the sandhills, they can take fish without danger, and because the sandhills furnish a fruit called the monterry, or native apple, as, although a berry growing upon a creeping plant, it looks and tastes like a miniature apple.

The situation is much exposed in the winter time to the cold south-west blasts, and the natives accordingly make comparatively strong huts. Their dwellings are formed of a framework of sticks, over which is plastered a thick layer of turf and mud. In addition to this they heap over the hut a great quantity of the sand and shells of which the ground is chiefly composed, so that the houses of the Milmendura look like mere mounds or hillocks rising from the sandy soil.

The fire which is found in every Australian encampment is generally procured by friction from two pieces of wood, one being twirled rapidly between the hands and the other held firmly by the feet. Indeed, the Australian savage produces fire exactly as does the South African (see page 100). This accomplishment, however, is not universal, some tribes being unable to produce fire, and being dependent on the “fire-sticks” which the women carry with them. It has occasionally happened that the women have been careless enough to allow all their fire-sticks to expire, and in such a case they are obliged to go to the nearest friendly tribe, and beg a light from them, in order to procure fire wherewith to cook the game that their husbands have brought home.

Before leaving this part of the subject, it will be as well to mention briefly a few of the devices used by the Australian natives in taking their game.

One of these devices is remarkably ingenious, and is principally employed in duck catching. The natives find out a spot where the ducks resort in order to feed, and arrange their nets so that they may intercept birds that fly down upon them. When the ducks are all busy feeding, the native hunter, who has concealed himself near the place, alarms the birds by suddenly imitating the cry of the fish-hawk, one of their deadliest foes. The terrified ducks rise in a body; but, just as they ascend, the wily native flings into the air a triangular piece of bark, imitating again the cry of the hawk. The birds, fancying that the hawk is sweeping down upon them, try to escape by darting into the reeds, and are caught in the nets.

Another ingenious plan is used for capturing birds singly. The native makes a sort of screen of branches, and conceals himself within it. In his hand he carries a long and slender rod, at the end of which there is a noose, and within the noose a bait. Under cover of the screen he comes close to the bird, and gently places the treacherous noose near it. By degrees the bird comes closer and closer to the bait, and, as soon as its head is fairly within the noose, it is secured by a dexterous twist of the hand. Sometimes the native does not employ a bait. He builds his simple shelter by some spot where birds are accustomed to drink, and calls them by imitating their note. They come to the spot, and, not seeing their companions, perch upon the sticks under which the hunter is concealed, a large bunch of grass being generally used to prevent the birds from seeing him. As soon as the bird perches, he slips the noose over its head, draws it inside the shelter, kills it, and waits for another.

In some parts of the country the natives make a self-acting snare, very much on the principle of the nets used in snaring rabbits. It consists of a sort of bag, and has its opening encircled by a running string, the other end of which is fastened to some fixed object, such as a tree-stump. The bag is made of split rattans, so that it remains open, and, as the meshes are very wide, the bait which is placed within it can easily be seen.

(1.) WINTER HUTS.
(See [page 786].)

(2.) A SUMMER ENCAMPMENT.
(See [page 784].)

If a bird or animal should come to the bait, which is fixed at the very extremity of the bag, it naturally forces its way toward the tempting object, and in so doing pulls upon the string and closes the mouth of the bag behind it. The more it struggles, the firmer is it held; and so it remains until it is taken out, and the trap set again. This very ingenious snare is used mostly for bandicoots and similar animals, though birds are sometimes caught in it.

The natives have another self-acting trap, which is identical in principle with the eel baskets and lobster pots of our own country. A number of these traps were found by Mr. Carron in some huts near Princess Charlotte’s Bay. They were made of strips of cane, and were about five feet in length by eight or nine inches in diameter at the mouth. From the opening they gradually tapered for some four feet, and then suddenly enlarged into a large round basket or pocket, the lower ends of the neck projecting into the basket so as to hinder any animal from returning through the passage by which it entered. This trap was used indifferently for catching fish and small animals. For the latter purpose it was laid in their track, and for the former it was placed in a narrow channel, through which the fish were forced to pass by being driven by a party of natives in the water.

The reader will remember that on [page 785] there is a reference to the “stringy-bark,” and its use in architecture. The same bark is used for a great number of purposes, among which that of boat-building is perhaps the most conspicuous. Should a native come to the side of a river which he does not wish to swim, he supplies himself with a boat in a very expeditious manner. Going to the nearest stringy-bark trees, and choosing one which has the lines of the bark straight and not gnarled, he chops a circle round the tree so as to sever the bark, and about seven or eight feet higher he chops a second circle. His next proceeding is to make a longitudinal cut down one side of the tree, and a corresponding one on the other side. He then inserts the handle of his tomahawk, his digging-stick, or any such implement, between the bark and the wood, and, by judicious handling, strips off the bark in two semi-cylindrical, trough-like pieces each of which is capable of being made into a boat.

Should he be alone, he seldom troubles himself to do more than tie the bark together at each end of the trough, and in this frail vessel he will commit himself to the river. But if his wife, or any second person, should be with him, he makes the simple boat more trustworthy by digging a quantity of clay out of the river bank, kneading it into each end of the trough, and tying the bark over the clay. As soon as he reaches the opposite shore, he lands, pushes the canoe back into the river and abandons it, knowing that to make a second canoe will not be nearly so troublesome as to take care of the first.

If, however, he wants a canoe in which he goes fishing, and which, in consequence, must be of a stronger make, he still adheres to the stringy bark as his material, though he takes more care in the manufacture. The bark is bent, like the birch bark of the North American Indians, by moisture and heat; and even with this better kind of boat clay is required at each end, and is also used for stopping up any leakage.

He also exhibits a still better use of the stringy-bark. The bark is not only formed into a boat-like shape, but it is kept in its form by cross-pieces of wood. The edges are also strengthened: and altogether this canoe shows a wonderful advance in boat-building. The vessel is propelled with a regular paddle instead of the fish spear: and altogether the boat and the accompanying implements remind the observer of the birch-bark canoes and vessels of America.

Another simple form of boat is made on a totally different principle from those which have already been described, and, instead of being a hollow trough of bark, is a solid bundle of reeds and sticks tied together in a very ingenious manner, and giving support to one or more persons, according to its size.

Such is the history of the aboriginal tribes of Australia, whose remarkable manners and customs are fast disappearing, together with the natives themselves. The poor creatures are aware of the fact, and seem to have lost all pleasure in the games and dances that formerly enlivened their existence. Many of the tribes are altogether extinct, and others are disappearing so fast that the people have lost all heart and spirit, and succumb almost without complaint to the fate which awaits them. In one tribe, for example, the Barrabool, which numbered upward of three hundred, the births during seventeen years were only twenty-four, being scarcely two births in three years; while the deaths had been between eighteen and nineteen per annum.

Mr. Lloyd gives a touching account of the survivors of this once flourishing tribe:—

“When I first landed in Geelong, in 1837, the Barrabool tribe numbered upward of three hundred sleek and healthy-looking blacks. A few months previous to my leaving that town, in May 1853, on casually strolling up to a couple of miam-miams, or native huts, that were erected upon the banks of the Burwan River, I observed seated there nine loobras (women) and one sickly child.

“Seeing so few natives, I was induced to ask after numbers of my old dark friends of early days—Ballyyang, the chief of the Barrabool tribe, the great Jaga-jaga, Panigerong, and many others, when I received the following pathetic reply: ‘Aha, Mitter Looyed, Ballyyang dedac (dead), Jaga-jaga dedac; Panigerong dedac,’ &c., naming many others; and, continuing their sorrowful tale, they chanted, in minor and funereal tones, in their own soft language, to the following effect:

“‘The stranger white man came in his great swimming corong (vessel), and landed at Corayio with his dedabul boulganas (large animals), and his anaki boulganas (little animals). He came with his boom-booms (double guns), his white miam-miams (tents), blankets, and tomahawks; and the dedabul ummageet (great white stranger) took away the long-inherited hunting-grounds of the poor Barrabool coolies and their children,’ &c., &c.

“Having worked themselves into a fit of passionate and excited grief, weeping, shaking their heads, and holding up their hands in bitter sorrow, they exclaimed, in wild and frenzied tones: ‘Coolie! coolie! coolie! where are our coolies now! Where are our fathers—mothers—brothers—sisters? Dead!—all gone! dead!’ Then, in broken English, they said, ‘Nebber mind, Mitter Looyed, tir; by ’m by all dem black fella come back white fella like it you.’ Such is the belief of the poor aborigines of Victoria; hence we may firmly infer that they possess a latent spark of hope in their minds as to another and better world.

“Then, with outstretched finger, they showed me the unhappy state of the aboriginal population. From their statement it appeared that there existed of the tribe at that moment only nine women, seven men, and one child. Their rapid diminution in numbers may be traced to a variety of causes. First, the chances of obtaining their natural food were considerably lessened by the entire occupation of the best grassed parts of the country, which originally abounded in kangaroo and other animals upon which they subsisted. The greater number of these valuable creatures, as an irresistible consequence, retired into the wild uninhabitable countries, far from the haunts of the white man and his destructive dogs.

“Having refused the aid of the Government and the Missionary Societies’ establishments at the River Burwan and Mount Rouse, the natives were to a serious extent deprived of animal food, so essential to a people who were ever exposed to the inclemencies of winter and the exhausting heats of summer. Influenza was one of the greatest scourges under which they suffered. Then, among other evils attending their association with the colonists, the brandy, rum, and tobacco told fearfully upon their already weakened constitutions.”

This one tribe is but an example of the others, all of whom are surely, and some not slowly, approaching the end of their existence. For many reasons we cannot but regret that entire races of men, possessing many fine qualities, should be thus passing away; but it is impossible not to perceive that they are but following the order of the world, the lower race preparing a home for the higher.

In the present instance, for example, the aborigines performed barely half of their duties as men. They partially exercised their dominion over the beasts and the birds—killing, but not otherwise utilizing them. But, although they inherited the earth, they did not subdue it, nor replenish it. They cleared away no useless bush or forest, to replace them with fruits; and they tilled no land, leaving the earth exactly in the same condition that they found it. Living almost entirely by the chase, it required a very large hunting-ground to support each man, and a single tribe gained a scanty and precarious living on a tract of land sufficient, when cultivated, to feed a thousand times their number. In fact, they occupied precisely the same relative position toward the human race as do the lion, tiger, and leopard toward the lower animals, and suffered in consequence from the same law of extinction.

In process of time white men came to introduce new arts into their country, clearing away useless forest, and covering the rescued earth with luxuriant wheat crops, sufficient to feed the whole of the aborigines of the country; bringing also with them herds of sheep and horned cattle to feed upon the vast plains which formerly nourished but a few kangaroo, and to multiply in such numbers that they not only supplied the whole of their adopted land with food, but their flesh was exported to the mother country.

The superior knowledge of the white man thus gave to the aborigines the means of securing their supplies of food; and therefore his advent was not a curse, but a benefit to them. But they could not take advantage of the opportunities thus offered to them, and, instead of seizing upon these new means of procuring the three great necessaries of human life, food, clothing, and lodging, they not only refused to employ them, but did their best to drive them out of the country, murdering the colonists, killing their cattle, destroying their crops, and burning their houses.

The means were offered to them of infinitely bettering their social condition, and the opportunity given them, by substituting peaceful labor for perpetual feuds, and of turning professional murderers into food-producers, of replenishing the land which their everlasting quarrels, irregular mode of existence, and carelessness of human life had well-nigh depopulated. These means they could not appreciate, and, as a natural consequence, had to make way for those who could. The inferior must always make way for the superior, and such has ever been the case with the savage. I am persuaded that the coming of the white man is not the sole, nor even the chief, cause of the decadence of savage tribes. I have already shown that we can introduce no vice in which the savage is not profoundly versed, and feel sure that the cause of extinction lies within the savage himself, and ought not to be attributed to the white man, who comes to take the place which the savage has practically vacated.

CHAPTER LXXVIII.
NEW ZEALAND.
GENERAL REMARKS.

LOCALITY OF NEW ZEALAND — GENERAL APPEARANCE OF THE PEOPLE — THE TWO CASTES, AND THEIR SUPPOSED ORIGIN — CONTRAST BETWEEN THE SEXES — LAXNESS OF MORALS — NUMBER OF THE POPULATION, AND THE DIFFERENT TRIBES — MODE OF GOVERNMENT — DISTINCTION BETWEEN RANKS — FORMATION OF THE CLANS, OR SUB-TRIBES — THE SLAVES, THEIR VALUE AND TREATMENT — THE TENURE OF LAND — A COMPLEX ARRANGEMENT AND CONSEQUENT DIFFICULTIES — ESTABLISHING A CLAIM — NATIVE LAW — THE “LEX TALIONIS” — SENSITIVENESS TO DISGRACE — THE PREVALENCE OF SUICIDE — STRANGE CONDUCT OF A MAORI CHIEF — THE SISTER’S VENGEANCE.

Southward and eastward of Australia we come to the group of islands known collectively as New Zealand. Like Australia, New Zealand possesses many peculiarities of climate and natural production, and is inhabited by a number of tribes which are generally hostile to each other, but which are almost identical in appearance and habits. We shall therefore be enabled to treat of this important portion of the globe with much more brevity than could be the case if, as in Africa, the tribes differed from each other in hue, dress, and customs.

Taken as a whole, the New Zealanders are a singularly fine race of people—tall, powerful, and well made. Though varying somewhat in shade, the color is always a brown of some kind, the complexion being sometimes as light as that of a Spaniard, and sometimes of a dark umber. It is, however, always of a clear tint and never approaches to the deep black of the Australian. The nose is straight and well formed, in many cases being boldly aquiline; and the mouth is rather large, and the lips moderately full, though not resembling those of the negro. The cheekbones are rather high, but not much more prominent than those of a genuine Scotchman; and the eyes are large, dark, and vivacious.

The teeth are remarkably white and even, and the feet and hands small and well proportioned. The foot is very well developed, the native never having spoiled its beautiful mechanism with shoes or boots, and being accustomed to use the toes in many tasks wherein a civilized European requires his fingers. The toes are, for example, continually employed in holding one end of a rope, while the fingers are engaged in twisting or plaiting it; and the consequence is that the natives are able to ridicule with justice the misshapen feet and toes of the European.

The men have naturally a full beard; but they always remove every vestige of hair on the face, in order to show the patterns which are tattooed upon it. Now and then a very old and powerful chief will dare to allow his beard to grow; but, as a rule, the face is divested of all covering: so that the absence of the beard, together with the profuse tattoo, destroys all evidences of age, and makes the countenance of a young man of twenty look nearly as old as that of his grandfather aged sixty.

The hair is plentiful, and mostly straight, being twisted and curled by art into the various fashionable forms. In some cases it is light, or even reddish, in color; and in such instances accompanies a complexion of peculiar fairness. Albinism exists among the New Zealanders, but is not agreeable in appearance, the eyes being always weak, and the skin looking as if it had been artificially whitened. In fact, such an albino looks among his dark fellows like a plant that has been bleached by growing in the dark.

There seems to be two castes of men among the New Zealanders. The upper caste is distinguished by the above characteristics; but the lower is shorter in stature, and has coarse and curly, though not woolly hair, more prominent cheekbones, and a much blacker skin. This second race, according to Dr. Dieffenbach, “is mixed in insensible gradations with the former, and is far less numerous; it does not predominate in any one part of the island, nor does it occupy any particular station in a tribe; and there is no difference made between the two races among themselves.

NEW ZEALANDER FROM CHILDHOOD TO AGE.
(See [page 795].)

“But I must observe that I never met any man of consequence belonging to this tribe, and that, although freemen, they occupied the lower grades: from this we may, perhaps, infer the relation in which they stood to the earliest immigrants into the country, although their traditions and legends are silent on the subject.

“From the existence of two races in New Zealand the conclusion might be drawn that the darker were the original proprietors of the soil, anterior to the arrival of a stock of true Polynesian origin; that they were conquered by the latter, and nearly exterminated. This opinion has been entertained regarding all Polynesian islands; but I must observe that it is very doubtful whether those differences which we observe among the natives of New Zealand are really due to such a source. We find similar varieties in all Polynesian islands, and it is probable that they are a consequence of the difference of castes so extensively spread among the inhabitants of the tribes of the great ocean.

“If one part of the population of New Zealand are a distinct race—a fact which cannot be denied as regards other islands—it is very curious that there should be no traces of such a blending in the language, where they would have been most durable, or in the traditions, which certainly would have mentioned the conquest of one race by the other, if it had happened. Captain Crozet, a Frenchman, who early visited New Zealand, says that he found a tribe at the North Cape darker than the rest. I could observe nothing of the kind there, though I visited all the natives. Nor are those darker-colored individuals more common in the interior; I should say, even less so.

“There is undoubtedly a greater variety of color and countenance among the natives of New Zealand than one would expect—a circumstance which might prove either an early blending of different races, or a difference of social conditions, which latter supposition would go far to explain the fact. All the New Zealanders speak of the Mango-Mango, or Blacks of New South Wales, as unconnected with and inferior to themselves; but they never make such a distinction regarding their own tribes.”

As is often the case with uncivilized people, the women are decidedly inferior to the men, being much shorter, and not nearly so well made. They are not treated with the harshness which is the usual characteristic of married life among savages, and are even taken into their husbands’ counsels, and have great influence in political affairs. Still, the heavy work of the household falls upon their shoulders, and the lot of an ordinary New Zealand wife is rather a severe one. She has to cultivate the ground, to carry the produce of the distant fields to the house, and, when the family is travelling, the women have to carry all the heavy loads. It is no wonder, therefore, that a life of such drudgery should tell upon the women, both in preventing the proper development of their frame and in causing their beauty to decay. Those who preserve their beauty longest are the daughters of wealthy chiefs, who can afford slaves by whom all the hard work is done, and who therefore free their mistresses from one of the causes of deterioration.

There is, however, another cause, which is perhaps equally effective, but not so palpable. This is the very lax code of morality which prevails among them, a young girl being permitted the utmost freedom until she is married, although afterward she is a model of constancy. This license is exercised at a very early age, and the natural consequence is that the due development of the frame is checked. This vicious system is so much a matter of course, that it carries no reproach with it, and the young girls are remarkable for their modest and childlike demeanor.

Of course they become aged much earlier than those whose development takes place at a later period of life; but they compensate for their deteriorated appearance by their peculiar kindliness of demeanor. The [engraving No. 1], illustrates the countenance and dress of a New Zealand woman and her boy.

Unlike the men, the women do not disfigure their faces by the tattoo, which gives to them the stern and fixed expression so characteristic of a New Zealand warrior; and they thus allow the really flexible and intelligent features to have full play. The only portions of the face that are marked with the tattoo are the lips, which are rendered blue by the process, as it is considered disgraceful for a woman to have red lips. The tattooing is always performed when the child is allowed to take her place among women; and, as may be imagined, it gives a livid and altogether unpleasant appearance to the mouth.

The children are very pleasing and interesting little creatures. They are full of intelligence, and unusually free and open in their manner. Unlike the children of most savage nations, they live as much with the men as with the women, and partake even in the councils of their parents, thus having their faculties sharpened at a very early age. The [illustration] opposite gives typical examples of the New Zealander from childhood to age, and the reader will notice the contrast between the soft and rounded outlines of the youth, and the harsh, rigid countenances of the old man and his consort.

In proportion to the dimensions of New Zealand, the population is very small; and, even in the earliest days of our acquaintance with it, the land seems to have been but thinly inhabited. That such should be the case is very remarkable, as a very thin population is generally found in those countries where, as in Australia, the inhabitants live principally by the chase, and therefore require a very large tract of land to support them. The New Zealanders, however, do not live by the chase, for the simple reason that there are no animals which are worth the trouble of hunting; so that a family of twenty or so, even if they had the entire country as a hunting-ground, would find themselves in very great straits were they obliged to procure their food by the chase. The reasons for this thin population will be presently seen.

According to Dieffenbach’s calculation, the native population of the entire country may be reckoned rather below one hundred and fifteen thousand. These are divided into twelve great tribes, which are again subdivided into sub-tribes, or clans, each of which has its separate name, and is supposed to belong to a certain district. The fighting men, or warriors, form about one-fourth of the whole population; the remaining three-fourths being made up of old men, women, and children. Since this calculation the numbers of the aborigines have considerably lessened. The most important of the tribes seems to be the Waikato, which is divided into eighteen clans, and which occupies a very large proportion of the country. This tribe alone can bring into the field six thousand fighting men; so that the entire number of the tribe may be calculated at twenty-four thousand or so.

The Waikato clans have managed to preserve their individuality better than the others, and, though brought much in contact with civilization, and having adopted some of the habits of their white visitors, they have still retained many of their ancient customs, and, as Dieffenbach remarks, have preserved much of their ancient vigor and original virtues.

The tribe that is strongest in mere numbers is the Nga-te-kahuhuna, which inhabits the east coast, and may be reckoned at thirty-six thousand strong. In fact, these two tribes alone outnumber the whole of the others taken collectively. One tribe, the Rangitani, is interesting from the fact that it was described by Captain Cook. In his days it was evidently a large and flourishing tribe, but some few years ago it could scarcely muster three hundred warriors, representing a total number of twelve hundred. The decadence of this tribe is probably owing to the destructive wars in which the New Zealanders engage, and which are often so fierce as to erase a tribe entirely.

The government of the New Zealanders is a curious mixture of simplicity and complication. Monarchy is unknown, each tribe having its own great chief, while an inferior chief presides over each clan, or sub-tribe. The whole of the population may be roughly divided into three ranks. First come the nobility, then the free men, and lastly the slaves. The nobility go by the general name of Rangatira—a title which is always given to officers, missionaries, and other white men who are placed in command over others.

In each tribe one of the Rangatira is the Ariki, or principal chief; but, as he is necessarily a Rangatira, he is always addressed by that title, and, in consequence, a stranger finds some difficulty, even after a prolonged visit, in ascertaining who is the Ariki. Among the New Zealanders there is no Salic law, so that the Ariki need not be a warrior, and may be a woman. The office is hereditary, and the existing Ariki is always held in the highest veneration in virtue of his descent. Even the hostile tribes respect an Ariki, and in most cases, if he should be captured in battle, the victors will spare his life. One or two of the most powerful chiefs living have been captured and afterward released, whereas, had they been common men, or even ordinary Rangatiras, they would have been killed, their bodies eaten, and their heads dried and fixed as trophies on the houses of their conquerors.

A sort of tax, or tribute, is paid by the different families, though the tax is entirely a voluntary one, and may be great or small, or withheld altogether, at pleasure. Mostly the Ariki is a man of considerable mental powers, and, in such a case, he exercises great authority over the tribe, either as a priest or a warrior. There is nothing to prevent the Ariki from assuming the office of priest, and in many instances he has been able to exercise a far greater influence by spiritual than by physical means.

The Rangatira are the great men, or nobles, of the land, and with them, as with the Ariki, the rank is hereditary. The law of succession is very remarkable, the eldest son being the heir to his father’s rank; but if the child dies, the youngest, and not the next eldest, becomes the lawful successor. These two heirs, the eldest and the youngest sons, are called by a name which signifies the fat of the earth.

Each Rangatira is independent of his fellows, though they collectively form a sort of body which we may compare with the House of Peers in England. Any Rangatira who has sufficient influence may gather together the members of his clan, build a fortified village, or pah, and become a petty sovereign in his own dominions. It is in this way that the various clans, or sub-tribes, are formed, each gathering round a noble of more than usual ability, and adopting a name by which the members will ever afterward be known.

The free men form the great body of the warriors; some of them being the sons of Rangatira, and others merely having the privilege of free birth; which carries with it the right of tattooing the face. Sometimes a free man who is remarkable for his generalship and courage will take the command of an expedition, even though men of higher rank than himself should be engaged in it.

Last come the slaves. These are always procured from two sources: they are either captives taken in battle, or are the children of such captives. The value of such slaves is very great. All savages are idle, but the New Zealander is one of the laziest of mortals in time of peace. In war he is all fire and spirit; but in peace he lounges listlessly about, and will not do a stroke of work that can possibly be avoided.

He may, perhaps, condescend to carve the posts of his house into some fantastical semblance of the human form, or he may, perchance, employ himself in slowly rubbing a stone club into shape, or in polishing or adorning his weapons. Whatever real work is to be done is left to the women or the slaves, and a man who values his wife or daughter will endeavor to procure slaves who will relieve her of the drudgery.

There are slaves of both sexes, to whom the appropriate work is allotted. They are considered the absolute property of their owner, who may treat them as he pleases, and, if he prefers to kill them, may do so without attracting any attention. Of course he would not do so except for very good reasons, as he would deprive himself of a valuable article of property. There have been cases, as we shall presently see, when the owner of slaves has deliberately murdered them for the sake of selling their heads.

Once a slave, always a slave. Should one of these unfortunates manage to escape and get back to his own tribe, his owner would apply for him, and he would be given up, the right of the master to his slave being universally recognized. Still, as a rule, the slaves are treated well, and some of them, who have attained excellence in certain arts, often become richer men than their owners. So great is the value of slaves, that many a war has been undertaken for the mere purpose of slave hunting, and some of the most disastrous and obstinate feuds have originated in the slave hunt.

Connected with the government of the New Zealanders is the land question. This is a strangely complicated business, as every inch of ground has an actual owner, while there are usually several claimants who allow their rights, real or imagined, to lie in abeyance as long as the land is owned by one who can hold his own, while they will all prefer their claims at his death, or even during a lengthened absence.

So it has often happened that the white men, while desiring to act according to law and honor, have involved themselves in a very net of difficulties. A chief, for example, may agree to sell a portion of territory, will receive the price, and will sign a deed, which will be witnessed by natives as well as by Europeans. No sooner has he done so, than a claimant comes forward, declaring that the chief in question had no real right to the land, and therefore had no right to sell it.

His claim will be inquired into, and, if it seems to be tolerably consistent with likelihood, the man will be paid an additional sum for his consent to the sale. The matter, however, is not at an end, for such is the jealousy with which the natives regard land, that, as long as a foreigner holds an inch of ground, so long will there be a native who prefers a claim to it. Strange as it may seem, the white man would incur less odium by taking the land by force, and seizing it by right of conquest, than by trying to act according to justice and equity.

War is a fertile source of misunderstanding about land. A tribe may be driven out of a district, and their land given to others, who hold it as long as they can keep it, the original possessors being sure to reconquer it if possible. It has sometimes happened that a chief to whom such lands have been presented has transferred them to another chief, and he, in his turn, has sold them to European settlers, the bargain being ratified by his own followers, who are considered as having a share in such property.

The colonists take the land, clear it, cultivate it, and when the crops are fairly in the ground, the dispossessed tribe will come forward and prefer their claim to it. Those to whom it was sold have already received their price, and do not trouble themselves to oppose the claim; and the consequence is, that the colonists are obliged either to make a second payment or to run the risk of war.

As to the claims themselves, they are of the most curious and unexpected character, such as no European would be likely to anticipate. According to Dieffenbach, “There exists a very distinct notion of the rights of landed property among the natives, and every inch of land in New Zealand has its proprietor. Sometimes land is given to a strange tribe, either as pay, or from other considerations, but the proprietor reserves certain rights, some of which are what we should term manorial.

“It was formerly very common that the fat of the native rats (Kiore) killed on such lands should be given to the principal proprietor, and in many cases a title to land seems to have been derived from the fact of having killed rats on it. Thus a chief will say, ‘This or that piece of land is mine; I have killed rats on it.’ Generally, however, land descends, as with us, by inheritance.”

Such being the complicated tenure on which land is held—a tenure which is often puzzling to the natives themselves—it is no matter of wonder that English settlers should have found themselves in difficulties. It is said that the colonists tried to make themselves masters of the land by unfair means, i. e. either by forcibly taking possession of it, or by inveigling the ignorant natives into signing documents which they did not understand, and thus selling their paternal estates for rum, tobacco, and a few blankets.

This may to some extent have been the case when the colonists first came to settle in the country. But the natives are far too intelligent to remain long ignorant of the power of pen, ink, and paper, and there is no doubt that in many cases they intentionally outwitted the purchaser, either by putting forward a sham owner of the ground, who had no right to sell it, and who vanished with his share of the prize as soon as the bargain was concluded, or by asserting ignorance of the meaning of the document which had been signed, and refusing to carry out its conditions. That the white men succeeded too often in cheating the natives is unfortunately true, but it is no less true that the natives as often cheated the colonists.

Law among the New Zealanders seems to be of the simplest kind, and, as far as we know, is not so well developed as among some of the tribes of Southern Africa. The three offences of which the law takes cognizance are murder, theft, and adultery. For the first of these offences a sort of lex talionis holds good, the relatives of the slain man being sure, sooner or later, to kill the murderer, unless he manages to compromise with them. Even theft is punished in a similar fashion, the thief being robbed in his turn.

As to the third offence, it is punishable in various ways; but both the offending parties are supposed to have forfeited their lives to the husband. If, therefore, the fact be discovered, and the culprit be a person of low rank, he seeks safety in flight, while, if he be a man of rank, he expects that the offended husband will make war upon him. Sometimes, if a wife discovers that her husband has been unfaithful to her, she will kill his paramour, or, at all events, disgrace her after the native custom, by stripping off all her clothes, and exposing her in public. Even the husband is sometimes subjected to this punishment by the wife’s relations; and so much dreaded is this disgrace that men have been known to commit suicide when their offence has been discovered.

Suicide, by the way, is not at all uncommon among the New Zealanders, who always think that death is better than disgrace, and sometimes destroy themselves under the most trivial provocation. One such case is mentioned by Mr. Angas. “On arriving at the village or kainga of Ko Nghahokowitu, we found all the natives in a state of extraordinary excitement. We had observed numbers of people running in that direction, along the margin of the river, from the different plantations, and, on inquiry, we learned that an hour previously to our arrival the son of an influential chief had committed suicide by shooting himself with a musket.

“Our fellow-travellers, with Wisihona their chief, were all assembled, and we followed them to the shed where the act had been perpetrated, and where the body still lay as it fell, but covered with a blanket. The mourners were gathered round, and the women commenced crying most dolefully, wringing their hands, and bending their bodies to the earth. We approached the body, and were permitted to remove the blanket from the face and breast. The countenance was perfectly placid, and the yellow tint of the skin, combined with the tattooing, gave the corpse almost the appearance of a wax model. The deceased was a fine and well-made young man. He had placed the musket to his breast, and deliberately pushed the trigger with his toes, the bullet passing right through his lungs. Blood was still oozing from the orifice made by the bullet, and also from the mouth, and the body was still warm.”

The cause of this suicide was that which has already been mentioned. The young man had been detected in an illicit correspondence with the wife of another man in the same village. The woman had been sent away to a distant settlement, a proceeding which had already made her lover sullen and gloomy; and, on the day when Mr. Angas visited the place, he had become so angry at the reproaches which were levelled at him by some of his relations, that he stepped aside and shot himself.

The determined manner in which the New Zealanders will sometimes commit suicide was exemplified by the conduct of another man, who deliberately wrapped himself up in his blanket, and strangled himself with his own hands. The crime was perpetrated in the common sleeping-house, and was achieved with so much boldness that it was not discovered until the man had been dead for some time.

A remarkable instance of this phase of New Zealand law took place when Mr. Dieffenbach visited the Waipa district. He was accompanied by a chief, who called a girl to him, and handed her over to the police magistrate as a murderess. The fact was, that her brother, a married man, had formed an intimacy with a slave girl, and, fearing the vengeance of his wife’s relatives, had killed himself. His sister, in order to avenge the death of her brother, found out the slave girl in the bush, and killed her. The strangest part of the business was, that the accused girl was the daughter of the chief who denounced her.

The girl pleaded her own cause well, saying, what was perfectly true, that she had acted according to the law of the land in avenging the death of her brother, and was not amenable to the laws of the white man, which had not yet been introduced into her country. As might be imagined, her plea was received, and the girl was set at liberty; but her father was so earnest in his wish to check the system of retaliatory murder, that he actually offered himself in the place of his daughter, as being her nearest relation.

CHAPTER LXXIX.
NEW ZEALAND—Continued.
DRESS.

DRESS AND ORNAMENTS OF THE NEW ZEALANDER — THE TATTOO OR THE MOKO — ITS FORMIDABLE CHARACTER — THE TATTOO A MARK OF FREEDOM — THE TATTOO OF THE FACE, AND ITS DIFFERENT PORTIONS — COST OF THE OPERATION — THE IMPLEMENTS, AND MODE OF USING THEM — TIME OCCUPIED IN COMPLETING IT — PAYMENT OF THE OPERATOR, AND THE TATTOO SONG — SOURCE WHENCE THE PIGMENT IS OBTAINED — SCARLET PAINT, AND MODE OF MAKING IT — THE NEW ZEALAND BELT — SYMBOLISM OF THE TATTOO — PRESERVING THE HEADS OF WARRIORS — THE TRAFFIC IN HEADS — A COOL BARGAINER.

We will now proceed to the appearance and dress of the natives of New Zealand, or Maories, as they term themselves. As the most conspicuous part of the New Zealander’s adornment is the tattooing with which the face and some other portions of the body are decorated, we will begin our account with a description of the moko, as it is called by the natives.

There are many parts of the world where the tattoo is employed, but in none is it of so formidable a description as among the New Zealanders. As the reader is probably aware, the tattoo consists of patterns made by introducing certain coloring matters under the skin; charcoal, variously prepared, being the usual material for the purpose. We have already seen among the Kaffirs examples of ornamenting the skin by cutting it deeply so as to form scars, and in Australia a similar but more cruel custom prevails. In neither of these countries, however, is there any attempt at producing an artistic effect, while in New Zealand beauty of design is the very object of the tattoo.

There is a distinction between the tattoo of the New Zealanders and the Polynesians; that of the latter people being formed by rows of little dots, and that of the former by lines cut completely through the skin. On account of this distinction, though a New Zealander and a Polynesian be covered from head to foot with tattoo marks, there is no possibility of mistaking the one for the other.

The moko of the New Zealander is a mark of rank, none but slaves being without a more or less complete tattooing of the face. In the present day, even the chiefs have begun to discontinue the ancient custom, chiefly owing to the exertions of the missionaries, who objected to the practice as a mark of heathendom. Consequently, several of the most powerful convert chiefs present a very curious, not to say ludicrous, aspect, which can hardly have a good effect in recommending Christianity to the people. Having been converted before the moko was completed, and being unwilling to continue the process and unable to obliterate those portions which were already drawn, they appear with one half of their faces tattooed and the other half plain, or perhaps with a solitary ring round one eye, and a couple of curves round one side of the mouth.

As, however, the present work treats only of the native customs, and not of modern civilization, the New Zealanders will be described as they were before they had learned to abandon the once-prized tattoo, to exchange the native mat for the English blanket, the picturesque war canoe for the commonplace whaling boat, and the spear and club for the rifle and bayonet.

The principal tattoo is that of the face and upper part of the head, which, when completed, leaves scarcely an untouched spot on which the finger can be placed. When finished, the whole face is covered with spiral scrolls, circles, and curved lines; and it is remarkable, that though a certain order is observed, and the position of the principal marks is the same in every case, no two persons are tattooed in precisely the same manner, the artists being able to produce an infinite variety with the few materials at his command.

For example, the first portion of the tattoo is always a series of curved lines, reaching from the corners of the nose to the chin, and passing round the mouth. This portion of the tattoo goes by the name of rerepi. Next comes a spiral scroll on the cheekbone; and below it is another spiral, reaching as low as the jaw-bone. These are called respectively kakoti and korohaha. Next come four lines on the middle of the forehead, called titi; and besides these there are several lines which run up the centre of the nose and cover its sides, some which spread over the forehead, others which occupy the chin; and even the lips, eyelids, and ears are adorned with this singular ornament.

Besides possessing these marks, a great chief is seldom content unless he can cover his hips with similar lines, each of which has, like those of the face, its proper name.

Although the moko was considered as a mark of rank, there were no sumptuary laws which forbade its use. Any one, provided he were not a slave, might be tattooed as much as he pleased; but the expense of the operation was so great, that none but men of position could afford a complete suit of moko. No man could tattoo himself, and the delicacy of touch and certainty of line was so difficult of attainment, that tattooing became an art or science, which was left in the hands of a few practitioners, who derived a good income from their business. Some of those who had attained much reputation for their skill used to command very high fees when called in to decorate a client, and their services could therefore only be secured by the men of high position. It is rather remarkable that some of the most celebrated operators were slaves, men who were forbidden to wear the tattoo on their own persons.

The mode of operation is as follows. The patient lies on his back, and places his head between the knees of the operator, who squats on the ground after the usual native fashion. The latter then takes a little of the black pigment, and draws on the face the line of the pattern which he intends to follow; and in some cases he slightly scratches them with a sharp instrument, so as to make a sketch or outline drawing. The object of this scratching is to prevent the pattern from being obliterated by the flowing blood and the black pigment which is rubbed into the wounds.

Next, he takes his instrument or chisel, which is usually made of teeth, or the bone of a bird, and with it follows the pattern, cutting completely through the skin. Sometimes, when engaged in tattooing the face, a careless operator has been known to cut completely through the cheek, so as to put a temporary check to smoking, the sufferer experiencing some difficulty in getting the smoke into his mouth at all, and then finding it escape through the holes in his cheek. On page 722 the reader may find an illustration which gives a good idea of the different forms of the tattooing chisel. As the operator proceeds, he continually dips the edge of his chisel in the black pigment, and, when he has cut a line of a few inches in length, he rubs more of the pigment into the wound, using a little bunch of fibre by way of a brush or sponge.

The cutting is not done as with a knife, but by placing the edge of the chisel on the skin, and driving it along the lines of the pattern by repeated blows with a small mallet. As may be imagined, the pain caused by this operation is excruciating. It is painful enough to have the skin cut at all, even with the keenest blade, as any one can testify who has been unfortunate enough to come under the surgeon’s knife. But when the instrument employed is a shark’s tooth, or a piece of bone, when it is driven slowly through the skin by repeated blows, and when the wound is at once filled with an irritating pigment, it may be imagined that the torture must be dreadful. It is, however, reckoned a point of honor to endure it without giving any signs of suffering.

Owing to the character of the tattoo, the destruction of the skin, and the consequent derangement of its functions, only a small portion can be executed at a time, a complete moko taking from two to three years, according to the constitution of the individual. Dreadful swellings are always caused by it, especially of the glands in the neighborhood of the wounds, and the effects are so severe that men have died when too large a portion has been executed at one time.

Every stroke of the chisel or uki leaving an indelible mark, it is of the greatest consequence that the operator should be a man of skill, and devote all his energies to tracing a clear, though elaborate pattern, in which the lines are set closely together, sweep in regular curves, and never interfere with each other.

While a man is being tattooed, his friends and those of the operator sing songs to him, in which he is encouraged to endure the pain bravely, and to bear in mind the lasting beauty which will be conferred upon him when the pattern is completed. The songs of the operator’s friends contain some very broad hints as to the scale of payment which is expected. Although, as has been stated, the best of tattooers are paid very highly, there is no definite fee, neither is any bargain made, the operator trusting to the liberality of his client. But, as a man would be contemned as a skulking fellow if he were to ask the services of a good operator and then pay him badly, the practical result is that a good tattooer always secures good pay.

Moreover, he has always the opportunity of avenging himself. As only a small portion of the moko can be executed at a time—say, for example, the spiral curve on one cheek—if the operator be badly paid for the first portion of his work, he will take care to let the chisel slip out of its course when he proceeds to the second part, or will cut his lines coarsely and irregularly, thus disfiguring the stingy man for life.

Mr. Taylor gives a translation of one of these tattooing songs:

“He who pays well, let him be beautifully ornamented;

But he who forgets the operator, let him be done carelessly.

Be the lines wide apart.

O hiki Tangaroa!

O hiki Tangaroa!

Strike that the chisel as it cuts along may sound.

O hiki Tangaroa!

Men do not know the skill of the operator in driving his sounding chisel along.

O hiki Tangaroa!”

The reader will see that the song is a very ingenious one, magnifying the skill of the operator, promising a handsome moko to the liberal man, and threatening to disfigure him if he be niggardly in his payments.

While the operation of tattooing is going on, all persons in the pah, or enclosure, are under the tabu, or tapu, lest any harm should happen to them; the work of tattooing being looked upon with a kind of superstitious reverence. The meaning of the word ‘tapu’ will be explained when we come to treat of the religious system of the New Zealander.

The effect of the moko on the face is well shown in [illustration No. 2], on the next page, which represents a chief and his wife. The reader will probably observe that on the face of the woman there are marks which resemble the tattoo. They are, however, the scars left by mourning over the body of some relative, a ceremony in which the women cut themselves unmercifully. The dress worn by both persons will be presently described.

The pigment used in tattooing is made from the resin of the kauri pine, and the greater part of it is made at one spot, where the tree grows plentifully. There is a rocky precipice, and a little distance from its edge a deep and narrow pit is sunk. A channel is cut through the face of the cliff into the pit, and the apparatus is complete. When a native wishes to make a supply of tattooing pigment, he cuts a quantity of kauri wood, places it in the pit, and sets fire to it, thus causing the burnt resin to fall to the bottom of the pit, whence it is scraped out through the channel.

Scarlet paint is much employed by the natives, especially when they decorate themselves for battle. It is obtained from an ochreous substance which is deposited in many places where water has been allowed to become stagnant. Some spots are celebrated for the excellence of the ochre, and the natives come from great distances to procure it. When they wish to make their scarlet paint, they first carefully dry and then burn the ochre; the result of which operation is, that a really fine vermilion is obtained.

This paint is used for many purposes, and before being used it is mixed with oil obtained from the shark. The natives are fond of decorating their houses with it, and by means of the scarlet lines increase, according to their own ideas, the beauty of the carved work with which every available point is adorned. Even their household goods are painted after a similar manner, the fashionable mode being to paint all the hollows scarlet, and the projecting portions black. Their canoes and wooden ornaments are profusely adorned with red paint. But the most valued use of this pigment is the part which it plays in the decoration of a warrior when he goes to battle.

In such cases paint constitutes the whole of his costume, the mats in which he takes so great a pride in time of peace being laid aside, many warriors being perfectly naked, and with the others the only covering of any kind being a belt made of plaited leaves.

One of these belts in my collection is seven feet in length, and only three and a half inches wide in the broadest part; while at either end it diminishes to a mere plaited thong. It is folded fourfold, and on opening it the mode of construction is plainly seen; all the loose ends being tucked inside.

The material is phormium leaf cut into strips an inch in width, each alternate strip being dyed black. Each strip is then divided into eight little strips or thongs, and they are so plaited as to produce an artistic checkered pattern of black and white. The ingenuity in forming so elaborate a pattern with so simple a material is extreme; and, as if to add to the difficulty of his task, the dusky artist has entirely changed the pattern at either end of the belt, making it run at right angles to the rest of the fabric. The belt is also used in lieu of clothing when the men are engaged in paddling a canoe.

The paint, therefore, becomes the characteristic portion of the New Zealander’s war dress, and is applied for the purpose of making himself look as terrible as possible, and of striking terror into his enemies. It is, however, used in peace as well as in war, being regarded as a good preservative against the bites and stings of insects, especially the sandflies and mosquitoes. It is also used in mourning, being rubbed on the body as a sign of grief, precisely as ashes are used among some of the Oriental nations. Some travellers have thought that the continual use of this pigment gives to the New Zealanders the peculiar softness and sleekness of skin for which they are remarkable, and which distinguishes them from the Fijians, whose skin feels as if it had been roughened with a file. This theory, however, is scarcely tenable, the soft texture of the skin being evidently due to physical and not to external causes.

(1.) NEW ZEALAND WOMAN AND HER BOY.
(See [page 795].)

(2.) TATTOOED CHIEF AND HIS WIFE.
(See [page 802].)

A warrior adorned in all the pride of the tattoo and scarlet paint is certainly a terrific object, and is well calculated to strike terror into those who have been accustomed to regard the Maori warriors with awe. When, however, the natives found that all the painting in the world had no effect upon the disciplined soldiers of the foreigner, they abandoned it, and contented themselves with the weapons that none are more able to wield than themselves.

Moreover, the paint and tattoo, however well it might look on a warrior armed after the primitive fashion, has rather a ludicrous effect when contrasted with the weapons of civilization. There is now before me a portrait of a Maori chief in full battle array. Except a bunch of feathers in his hair, and a checked handkerchief tied round his loins, evidently at the request of the photographer, he has no dress whatever. He is tall, splendidly made, stern, and soldierlike of aspect. But instead of the club, his proper weapon, he bears in his hand a Belgian rifle, with fixed bayonet, and has a cartouche-box fastened by a belt round his naked body.

His face is tattooed, and so are his hips, which are covered with a most elaborate pattern, that contrasts boldly with his really fair skin. Had he his club and chief’s staff in his hands, he would look magnificent; having a rifle and a cartouche-box, he looks absurd. Even a sword would become him better than a rifle, for we are so accustomed to associate a rifle with a private soldier, that it is difficult to understand that a powerful chief would carry such a weapon.

The curious mixture of native and European dress which the Maories are fond of wearing is well described by Mr. Angas. “Raupahara’s wife is an exceedingly stout woman, and wears her hair, which is very stiff and wiry, combed up into an erect mass upon her head about a foot in height, somewhat after the fashion of the Tonga islanders, which, when combined with her size, gives her a remarkable appearance.

“She was well dressed in a flax mat of native manufacture, thickly ornamented with tufts of cotton wool; and one of her nieces wore silk stockings and slippers of patent leather. This gay damsel was, moreover, a very pretty girl, and knew how to set off her charms to advantage; for over an European dress she had retained her native ornaments, and had wrapped herself coquettishly in a beautiful, ‘kaitaka,’ displaying her large hazel eyes above its silky folds.”

It has often been thought that the warrior regarded his moko, or tattoo, as his name, permanently inscribed on his face; and this notion was strengthened by two facts: the one, that in the earlier times of the colonists the natives signed documents by appending a copy of their moko; and the other, that each man knows every line of his tattoo, and sometimes carves a wooden bust on which he copies with admirable fidelity every line which appears on his own head or face. Such a work of art is greatly valued by the Maories, and a man who has carved one of them can scarcely be induced by any bribe to part with it.

Moreover, the moko of a warrior is often accepted as the conventional representation of himself. For example, on the pillars of a very celebrated house, which we shall presently describe, are numerous human figures which represent certain great chiefs, while men of lesser mark are indicated by their moko carved on the posts. Thus it will be seen that the moko of a chief is as well known to others as to himself, and that the practised eye of the native discerns among the various curves and spirals, which are common to all free men, the characteristic lines which denote a man’s individuality, and in producing which the tattooers’ skill is often sorely tried.

It has already been mentioned, that when a warrior falls in battle, and his body can be carried off by the enemy, the head is preserved, and fixed on the dwelling of the conqueror. No dishonor attaches itself to such an end; and, indeed, a Maori warrior would feel himself direfully insulted if he were told that in case of his death in the field his body would be allowed to remain untouched.

In fact, he regards his moko precisely in the same light that an American Indian looks upon his scalp-lock; and, indeed, there are many traits in the character of the Maori warrior in which he strangely resembles the best examples of North American savages.

In order to preserve the head of a slain warrior, some process of embalming must evidently be pursued, and that which is commonly followed is simple enough.

The head being cut off, the hair is removed, and so are the eyes; the places of which are filled up with pledgets of tow, over which the eyelids are sewed. Pieces of stick are then placed in the nostrils in order to keep them properly distended, and the head is hung in the smoke of the wood fire until it is thoroughly saturated with the pyroligneous acid. The result of this mode of preparation is, that the flesh shrinks up, and the features become much distorted; though, as the Maori warrior always distorts his countenance as much as possible before battle, this effect is rather realistic than otherwise.

It is often said that heads prepared in this fashion are proof against the attacks of insects. This is certainly not the case, as I have seen several specimens completely riddled by the ptilinus and similar creatures, and have been obliged to destroy the little pests by injecting a solution of corrosive sublimate. In spite of the shrivelling to which the flesh and skin are subject, the tattooing retains its form; and it is most curious to observe how the finest lines completely retain their relative position to each other.

Not only are the heads of enemies treated in this fashion, but those of friends are also preserved. The difference is easily perceptible by looking at the mouth, which, if the head be that of a friend, is closed, and if of an enemy, is widely opened.

Some years ago, a considerable number of these preserved heads were brought into Europe, having been purchased from the natives. Of late years, however, the trade in them has been strictly forbidden, and on very good grounds. In the first place, no man who was well tattooed was safe for an hour, unless he were a great chief, for he might at any time be watched until he was off his guard, and then knocked down, killed, and his head sold to the traders. Then, when the natives became too cautious to render head hunting a profitable trade, a new expedient was discovered.

It was found that a newly tattooed head looked as well when preserved as one which had been tattooed for years. The chiefs were not slow in taking advantage of this discovery, and immediately set to work at killing the least valuable of their slaves, tattooing their heads as though they had belonged to men of high rank, drying, and then selling them.

One of my friends lately gave me a curious illustration of the trade in heads. His father wanted to purchase one of the dried heads, but did not approve of any that were brought for sale, on the ground that the tattoo was poor, and was not a good example of the skill of the native artists. The chief allowed the force of the argument, and, pointing to a number of his people who had come on board, he turned to the intending purchaser, saying, “Choose which of these heads you like best, and when you come back I will take care to have it dried and ready for your acceptance.” As may be imagined, this speech put an abrupt end to all head purchasing, and gave an unexpected insight into the mysteries of trading as conducted by savage nations.

CHAPTER LXXX.
NEW ZEALAND—Continued. DRESS AND ORNAMENTS.

THE “MATS” OF THE NEW ZEALANDERS — THE MATERIAL OF WHICH THEY ARE MADE — THE NEW ZEALAND FLAX, OR PHORMIUM — MODE OF MAKING THE MATS — VARIOUS KINDS OF MATS — THE RAIN MAT AND ITS USES — THE OPEN-WORKED MAT — THE DIFFERENT ORNAMENTS OF THE MAT: STRINGS AND TAGS, SCARLET TUFTS AND BORDERS — WAR CLOAKS OF THE CHIEFS — THE DOGS’-HAIR MAT — THE CHIEF PARÁTENE IN HIS CLOAK — MODE OF MAKING THE WAR CLOAKS — BRIEF ACCOUNT OF THE CHIEF — AMUSING INSTANCE OF VANITY IN A CHIEF — SUBSTITUTION OF THE BLANKET AND ITS ATTENDANT EVILS — ORNAMENTS OF THE NEW ZEALANDER’S HEAD — FEATHERS, AND FEATHER BOXES — VARIOUS DECORATIONS OF GREEN JADE — TIKIS AND EAR-RINGS — A REMARKABLE AMULET — THE SHARK’S TOOTH — MODES OF DRESSING THE HAIR — HAIR-CUTTING AND SHAVING — A PRIMITIVE RAZOR.

We now come to the costume of the New Zealanders. This is of a rather remarkable character, and may be characterized by the generic title of mat, with the exception of the belt which has just been described. The costume of the New Zealander consists of a square or oblong mat, varying considerably in size, though always made on the same principle. In this mat the natives envelop themselves after a very curious fashion, generally muffling themselves up to the neck, and often throwing the folds round them after the fashion of a conventional stage villain.

These mats are of various textures, and differ as much in excellence and value as do the fabrics of more civilized lands. The material is, however, the same in all cases, and even the mode of wearing the garment, the value being estimated by the fineness of the material, the amount of labor bestowed upon it, and the ornaments introduced into it.