[FREE PDF sample] Discourse contextualism : a framework for contextualist semantics and pragmatics 1
Discourse contextualism
: a framework for contextualist semantics and pragmatics 1st Edition Silk
Visit to download the full and correct content document: https://textbookfull.com/product/discourse-contextualism-a-framework-for-contextualis t-semantics-and-pragmatics-1st-edition-silk/
More products digital (pdf, epub, mobi) instant download maybe you interests ...
Semantics and Pragmatics Drawing a Line 1st Edition Ilse Depraetere
InacontextwhereAnnaismostsalient,()communicatesthatAnnawonamedal; butinacontextwhereBettyismostsalient,()communicatesthatBettywonamedal. Likewise,accordingtocontextualism,inacontextwhereAnnette’sinformation iA isrelevant,()communicates(roughly)that iA iscompatiblewiththebutler’sbeing thekiller;butinacontextwhereBen’sinformation i B isrelevant,()communicates (roughly)that iB iscompatiblewiththebutler’sbeingthekiller.What()conventionallycommunicates,andwhetheritistrueorfalse,dependsonwhatinformationis relevantinthediscoursecontext.1
Let m bethepropositionthatthetestisMonday.AliceandBertcanagreeabout whether m iscompatiblewiththeirrespectiveinformationstateswhiledisagreeing withwhatoneanothersays.Alice’slinguisticdenialin()isfelicitous,whereas B’sin ()isnot.
Supposeinsteadthatwetreatepistemicmodalclaimsasclaimsaboutthepooled informationofarelevantgroup.ThenwecancapturehowAliceandBertmakeinconsistentclaims.ButitbecomesunclearhowBertisinapositiontomakeaclaimabout whetherthetestmaybeonMonday,which,intuitively,heis.Itcanbeappropriatefor Berttoutter()evenifhedoesn’tknowwhetherAliceisuncertainabout m
the licensingofexpressionsoflinguisticdenial (inEnglish,‘no’,‘nope’,‘nu-uh’,etc.) indiscoursessuchas().Theseexpressionssignalthespeaker’sdiscoursemoveof rejecting(denying,objectingto)someaspectofthepreviousutterance.Notallcases inwhichspeakersintuitivelydisagreecanbemarkedinthisway. B’s“disagreementin attitude”with A in()couldn’ttypicallybesignaledwithalinguisticdenial.
Another random document with no related content on Scribd:
will write wish (thing) if and not wish (thing) if yes matakeda all-the-same minaasin finish sena that ngau my ia word, ngau my nel name. ⸺
“I say, I tell you about what I want. What do you say, you want to come with me? Best thing you come along with me. What do you think about it? If you got something to answer back, then you let me know ’Spose you want to come with me, let me know, then I know; ’spose you don’t, you let me know, so I know. Best thing you come with me. My name . ”
The answer might be—
“All right, I come along you” or “No, I no want to come along you.”
Another proposal is a copy of an original letter which happened to fall into my hands and which I still possess. It was from a Murray Islander named Kimel, who was then in Mabuiag offering marriage to Anuni, a Mabuiag girl.
Unfortunately I did not see her reply; but I know she received this letter, and I have no reason to believe my possession of it hindered the course of true love from running smoothly.
It is interesting to note that Kimel, being a Murray Islander, followed his tribal custom of the man proposing marriage.
Januare 1, 1899.
Peike This Anuni Anuni (is) kara my jiawali writing marim to you mama you neur a girl kaka I makiriam young man nakö[2] (?) ma you kari me lag like nakö (?) Ad God emeret formerly
detagem made Adamu Adam a and Eba Eve kosker woman a and kimiar man mokakalam same way
kaka I mari you lag like nakö (?) ma you kari me lag like nakö (?) ma you nole not geum afraid
kak nothing makiria young man abkoreb suitable marim for you ma you kari me abkoreb suit.
Ad God emeret formerly detagem made kosker woman abkoreb suitable ko for kimiar man nagiri possessing kimiar man abkoreb suitable ko for kosker woman nagiri possessing kaka I mari you laglag like nako what mer word karim for me ma you kari me umele know kaka I nole not mokakalam like nerut some other le men kaka I dorge work le man. peike This kara my mer word marim to you. Sina The end. Kara My nei name.
Cimell Mabuiag.
“January 1, 1899.
“This, Anuni, is my letter to you. You are a girl, I am a young man. Do you like me? God formerly made Adam and Eve a similar man and woman. I like you, do you like me? Don’t be afraid at all of a young man suitable for you. You suit me. God formerly made woman suitable for having a man, and man suitable for having a woman. I like you. What message for me? You know me. I am not like some men, I am a man of work. This is my message to you. The end. My name
“Cimell “Mabuiag.”
STAR MYTHS
Most, perhaps all, peoples recognise certain groups of stars, or constellations, about which they tell stories. As a rule these myths of origin are not particularly instructive, except for the sidelight they cast on the people who originated them.
The constellations themselves have a very definite and practical value, as they constitute the universal sidereal almanack, by means of which the majority of primitive peoples regulate their farming operations or their festivals.
The Torres Straits islanders are no exception to this general rule, and I offer the following three myths as examples of this kind of traditional literature.
The Murray Islanders recognise a large constellation which does not coincide with any one of those mapped by our astronomers, though the canoe corresponds to part of our Scorpio.
A man named Tagai, with uplifted and outstretched hands bearing a spear, is supposed to stand upon a canoe, which is represented by the bowed row of stars that forms the scorpion’s tail. Below the front end of the canoe is a single star, the anchor of the canoe, and near its other end is a red star that represents a man named Kareg. A cluster of stars is called Usiam, and another linear constellation is named Seg.
Tagai is an important constellation, not only as an indication of the approach of certain seasons, but also for navigation purposes. For example, I was told, “Usiam he mĕk [that is, “sign” or “mark”] for new yams.” “Seg he mĕk next kind of yam.” When Usiam is some way from the horizon at sundown, men say, “Close up new yam time,” and when it is at the horizon at sunset, “Yam time he come.”
“Tagai he mĕk for turtle season. Two hand he come first; all turtle go to islands to leeward (to the west), and they (the natives) ‘kaikai’ (eat) turtle first. By-and-by face belong Tagai he come up; Dauarle (the inhabitants of Dauar and of the southern end of Murray Island) get turtle, and then all the rest of Murray Island.”
In sailing by night from Erub (Darnley Island) to Mer (Murray Island) they steer for the left hand of Tagai, “right hand he stop outside Mer.”
The following is the reputed origin of the constellation. I give it in my informant’s own words:—
THE ORIGIN OF THE TAGAI CONSTELLATION
“One man, Tagai, he got a canoe. Tagai he stop in forehead (the bow or front end of the canoe) and look out and spear fish. Kareg he stop in stern. Plenty men crew.
“They go over reef; Kareg he pole canoe. Tagai he spear fish. Sun hot on reef, all men thirsty, and steal water in canoe belong captain.
“Tagai say, ‘Why you no pole canoe good? I no spear fish.’ By-and-by he say, ‘Where water-bamboo?’ He take bamboo and shake it; it empty. ‘Who drink water?’
“Men no talk.
“Tagai get wild. He get one rope and make fast round neck of six men and chuck into sea. He put name to them, ‘All you fellow “Usiam.”’
“Tagai take two wooden skewers and call other men in canoe, and kill plenty, and stick the skewers through their necks and chuck them in the sea, and call them ‘Seg.’
“Kareg he live.
“Tagai tell Kareg, ‘You stop; you no steal my water, you push canoe all time.’
“Man stop in sky all the time.
“Tagai, Kareg, and canoe stop in one place, Usiam stop in another place, and Seg stop in another place.”
The next story, which was told to me in Mabuiag in 1888, refers to two constellations, one of which, a Dorgai, a sort of bogey, is followed by a cluster of stars named Bu, but which we call Delphin, or the dolphin, and certainly this cluster has a closer resemblance to the large Fusus or Triton shell (bu) than to a dolphin. The Dorgai corresponds to the star known to us as Altair, but which they call gamu (the body), and the adjoining stars on each side, which they name getal (the arms).
B
These constellations belong to the north-west monsoon, and when “Dorgai he come up (from the east) that time make kap (dance).” A DORGAI CONSTELLATION
Once upon a time a man named Nadai, living on the Island of Boigu, went into the bush to collect the eggs of the moundbird, a bird that lays its eggs in a great mound of earth which it scratches up with its strong feet.
He found a large mound, and dug into it till he came to what he thought was an egg. He tried to pull it up, but it stuck fast; then he tried to get another, but neither would that come away. It so happened that a Dorgai named Metakorab was sleeping under the mound, and she was wearing several large white cowry shells, and it was these that Nadai was pulling at, mistaking them for eggs.
Nadai at last caught hold of the shell, which was tied on to the Dorgai’s chin, and giving a tremendous pull he dragged the Dorgai out of the ground. He was so terrified at her appearance, that he fled back to the village and called out to the inhabitants to arm themselves and kill the Dorgai, who was sure to follow after him.
By-and-by a fly came, and behind it came the Dorgai; but the men no sooner saw her terrible face than they threw down their weapons and ran away in a fright.
Then Nadai went on to the next village, but the same thing happened again. So he went on all round the island, but it always happened as before.
At last Nadai came to a village called Kerpai, on the north side of the island, and he begged the people to stand firm and attack the Dorgai. They armed themselves, but when the fly came, and after it the Dorgai, they all took to their heels, as the others had done before, with the exception of one man named Bu. He remained in the bachelors’ quarters, and armed himself with a bow and with arrows that are used for shooting wild pigs. When the Dorgai arrived, Bu shot her and killed her.
Both are now in the sky; the Dorgai going first, being continually followed by Bu.
The last story is one which was given to me by my friend Mr Robert Bruce, who lives at Daru.
It is the story of Kabi, a man who did not believe in much talking nor in accepting as true everything that people said; but he thought for himself, and tried to find out the truth, even if he had to make a long journey to do so. He was what we call a “scientific man.”
SUN, MOON, AND NIGHT
“Plenty men sit down and yarn at Kadau (a village in the island of Dauan). All man he yarn about Sun, and Moon, and Night. All man speak, ‘Sun, Moon, and Night he all the same one.’ One man called Kabi he speak, ‘No good you talk all the same; suppose you look. You see, Sun he come up, that time Moon he go down. Moon he come up, and Sun he go down.’
“Then all man too much wild; some man he speak, ‘Very good, we kill Kabi; he talk no good.’ Kabi he hear, he afraid. Kabi he then speak, ‘You fellow, look, I go to-morrow; I go place belong Sun, and Moon, and Night.’
“At small daylight he go in his canoe, his woman stop behind. He go across to Saibai.
“All man in Saibai speak, ‘Where you go, Kabi?’ He speak, ‘I go to look place where Sun he stop.’
“Him go—go—go. All islands he come up. He go big deep water. He catch him place where Sun he stop.
“Kabi he look, Sun he come out house belong him. Kabi he think, ‘Sun he no good, as Sun he no got good things on.’ Kabi pulled his canoe on beach and sat down. Sun then come out of door of his house and looked at Kabi. Sun then go inside house belong him and put on all flash things—one big pearl-shell he put on breast and one big shell on body.
“Sun he walk along and come close to Kabi. Kabi he very much afraid; he think inside, ‘Big man he come now. I think he
kill me.’ Sun he speak, ‘Kabi, come on, you and me go house.’
“Sun he carry canoe belong Kabi in his one hand, all same as boy carry canoe belong play; then he put canoe on top of his house.
“Then Sun he speak, ‘Kabi, what name you come here for?’
“Kabi he speak, ‘All man he growl for you; he all speak, “Sun, and Moon, and Night he one.” Me, one fellow, speak, “No, Sun he one, Moon he one, and Night he one.” Then all man he wild.’
“Sun he speak, ‘All right, you come house.’
“Kabi he speak, What you say? Sun, Moon, you all same one?’
“Sun he speak, ‘Me one, Moon another one.’
“Then Sun and Moon he bring Kabi kaikai (food). Sun he give kaikai belong Sun—bananas, yams, taro, sweet potatoes, coconuts. Moon he give him all the same.
“Sun he speak, ‘All kaikai belong we fellow Sun, Moon, and Night he all the same. We all help to make them. Sun and Moon he stop one house.’
“Sun he take canoe belong Kabi, and put it in the water; then they put all kaikai in canoe. Kabi he get afraid when he think of the long journey he got to take.
“Sun he speak, ‘Kabi, I make rope fast along your head, then you and me go together; I tow you. When you come to place belong you, you shake rope; by-and-by when you loose rope, you shake it, then that time I pull up.’
“Kabi he then start in his canoe. Three big waves come; one wave lift him half-way, the next lift him along to Saibai, the next wave lift his canoe to Dauan.
“Kabi then went ashore and told all the people, ‘I been to place where Sun and Moon he stop. You hear me now when I
speak. He no one fellow, he two fellow. Sun he pull me here.’
“Then Kabi got all people in one place. He speak, ‘You see this rope fast on top of my head. You look when I take this rope off my head. You look he go up to Sun.’
“Then all the people believe Kabi when he speak, ‘Sun, Moon, and Darkness each got their own work to do.’”
CHAPTER XII
VISITS TO VARIOUS WESTERN ISLANDS
It was sad to feel that the end of our stay in Torres Straits was drawing near. On October 19th Rivers left us, and two days later Wilkin also had to go. Ray, Seligmann, and myself alone were left.
On October 21st the Hon. John Douglas came in the White Star to convey us away from Mabuiag, and we made an early start next morning. Mr. Douglas made the valuable suggestion that before going on to Saibai we should run down to Yam to pick up my old friend Maino, the Mamoose of Tut and Yam, in order that he might give us information. We did so, and Maino was very pleased to come with us, and we shipped another Yam native named Kaikai.
We reached Saibai in the afternoon, and went ashore for a stroll. Saibai is a relatively large low island, but it is scarcely more than a ring-like, vegetated sandbank surrounding a huge swamp. The natives, numbering about one hundred and fifty to two hundred, are a quiet, industrious people, and grow a sufficient quantity of garden produce. We found them very intelligent, and anxious to assist us in gaining information.
We all went after breakfast on Sunday, October 23rd, to attend the morning service, which should have been held at nine o’clock, but was postponed till our arrival. This church was opened about two years ago, and is a very creditable edifice, entirely built by the natives. The walls and roof are of corrugated iron, and the architecture is of the plainest; but the people are deservedly proud of their effort, which not only represents time, energy, and money spent by themselves, but it is also the outward and visible sign of their own advance in civilisation, they feel it to be a bond of union between themselves and white Christians. It is easy to sneer at the plainness —ugliness if you will—of a tin tabernacle, but within an ungainly
chrysalis there may be enshrined an incipient butterfly; the psyche of the savage, or barbarian, whether black or white, may similarly emerge from the baldest and stiffest of meeting-houses.
It is often very pathetic to see the evident strivings of these people to be like the white man; to my mind they are too ready to cast away their past, for with the crudities and social unrest of savagery there are flung aside also many of the excellent moral codes and social safeguards of the old order of things. Much native wheat is rooted up with the tares.
After the service I photographed the interior of the church, and later showed the natives photographs and sketches and chatted on various subjects, and altogether had a very profitable day. Before our midday dinner I had completed a census of the island, with the totem of every individual, and as I walked through the village the names of the residents of every house were recorded. There was no time to trace the genealogies as far back as Rivers did for Murray Island and Mabuiag, but still, what was accomplished will enable one to get some insight into the social organisation of the people. Rivers did not enumerate the inhabitants of every house in Murray Island and Mabuiag because the clans were all mixed up, but as we had found in Kiwai the houses were clan-houses, I thought the same might possibly occur here. We found that formerly this was the case, and that the snake (Tabu) and wild sweet potato (Daibau) clans lived on one side of the village, and the crocodile (Kodal), dog (Umai), and cassowary (Sam) lived on the other side. This division of the village into clan groups was said to tend to faction fights, and so the missionary tried to mix them up. There are still, however, distinct traces to be found of clan groupings in the village. I have previously referred to the double grouping of the clans in Mabuiag and Pulu, and a similar dual division is common throughout Australia. On the mainland of New Guinea to the east there is often a dual grouping in a village, about which more information is required, but in this case there is at present no evidence to connect it with totemism.
Ten years ago Maino, the chief of Tut, who is a crocodile-man, as a sign of friendship, exchanged names with me, and on the strength of this, on arriving at Saibai, I claimed to be a crocodile-man also,
and in this assertion was supported by Maino. The other crocodilemen at once acknowledged me, for a few minutes after I landed on the island a crocodile-man made me a present of some coconuts, and stated in doing so that we were relatives.
Later on when I was sitting among a group of natives showing pictures and chatting, someone hinted a doubt as to whether an Englishman could have a crocodile augŭd. Wherever one goes one always finds some incredulous person who will not bow unquestioningly to authority. I immediately rolled up my shirt sleeves and showed my vaccination marks, which I happen to have on both shoulders, and I pointed this out as a proof of my pretensions; the evidence at once silenced all sceptical remarks, and carried conviction. The whiteness of the skin of my upper arms, unburned as it was by the hot sun, attracted much attention, especially from the ladies.
I was chagrined to find that my clan, though formerly an important one here, was on the decline, and that a plant clan was now the most numerous. This appears to be the only true plant totem in Torres Straits, and forms another interesting link with the Fly River district. Intermarriage in the same clan is prohibited; but I believe they now kill and eat their totems.
I wanted to obtain a special kind of yellow earth that is traded as paint from this to the other islands and to New Guinea, but we were told that snakes would bite anyone who went into the bush on a Sunday. These snakes must be very degenerate subjects of the Old Serpent, the Father of Lies, if they support so strict a Sabbatarianism.
Unfortunately the triple-crowned coconut palm that I sketched on my last visit here has died, so I could not photograph it as I had hoped to do. When I was making the sketch I was, as usual, surrounded by a bevy of onlookers, and one man said to me, “I wish I could make a coconut palm grow as fast as you draw it!” As I sketched in the neighbouring palms, the bystanders mentioned the name of the owner of each, and thus I learned that every tree is owned by somebody, and in a group of palms several men or women
may own various trees. It is common for a man to own land, but not to own all the trees or plants that grow on it.
On the same occasion I sketched one of the houses, in which the lower portion was roughly walled up with coconut palm leaves, so as to make a second dwelling-place beneath the house proper. At this particular time the natives of Boigu, an island some fifteen miles to the west, had come to Saibai for safety. They had heard that the Tugeri pirates were coming on a head-hunting raid, and knew they could not withstand them unaided. There was not enough house room in Saibai for these visitors, and so the under portion of this house was roughly wattled for their accommodation. This was at that time the only two-storied house in Torres Straits.
With the lower portion screened with leaves (1888)
The ancient pile dwellings of Switzerland were built in the lakes for safety from attack by enemies. When the country became more settled, the pile dwellings were built on the shore instead of in the water, which is the present condition of most of the coastal villages in New Guinea. Later the Swiss put stones round the outer posts that supported their houses, and the ground floor, thus formed, was used
F . 20. H P S
as a shed. This is what one still finds so often in Switzerland. The real dwelling-house is supported on posts as in the prehistoric days, and the staircase is still outside the house, as was the original log ladder.
This Saibai house was temporarily in an intermediate condition between the ancient pile dwelling and the modern Swiss chalets. Not only was the final step never taken, but when the immediate need of increased accommodation was not felt, the house reverted to its previous state.
On Monday morning we measured ten natives pretty thoroughly and took a number of photographs. Ray exhibited the phonograph, and obtained some new records, whilst Seligmann worked hard at native medicine. Altogether we got through a great deal of work during these two days.
We made an early start on Tuesday in the White Star, and anchored off Tut in the forenoon, as I wished once more to go over the old sacred sites with Maino. No one lives on the island now, and the sacred spots are overgrown with bush, and most of the old stones are removed or broken up. This was very disappointing, and I was able to add only a very little to my previous information. It was an intensely hot day, and we were parched with thirst and soaked with perspiration.
The natives of Yam and Tut are one people. In olden days they resided part of the year in one island, and the rest in the other; now the greatly reduced population is permanently quartered on Yam. The people occasionally come across from Yam to look after their gardens, and we photographed the simple huts they had erected, which, we were informed, were like the old houses before the natives had adopted the South Sea type of house.
TUT
Tut, or Tud, or Warrior Island as it is now generally called, is situated at the southern end of the great Warrior Reefs. The island is very low, not more than ten feet above sea-level in any part, and is a
true coral island, having been formed by the sea heaping coral sand and detritus on the reef, till these formed barriers which keep the sea itself at bay. As is usually the case in these parts, the soil is rendered fertile by the disintegration of pumice drifting on to the island from distant volcanoes.
Tut is evidently an island in process of formation, and is, roughly speaking, hook-shaped, the curved space being a lagoon, which is filled during the whole of the north-west monsoon, but dry except at high tide, during the south-east trade, i.e. during the greater portion of the year. This lagoon is evidently gradually silting up, and will ultimately form a permanent part of the island.
The vegetation is scrubby, but there are some old trees near the middle of the island. In old times the people were often short of food. At my visit in 1888 they were comfortably off, owing to the fact that most of the men were engaged in the fishing industries of the Straits, and were therefore able to buy provisions. On that occasion Maino met us, and after visiting a house and noticing a woman playing at cat’s cradle, we walked across the island to the village. There was a good deal of orange-coloured dodder festooning the shrubs and grass; one coconut palm bore the inscription of BILI FIJI, to announce the fact of that tree being owned by Billy, a native of Fiji. A coconut lying on the ground was sending up two vigorous sprouts.
After passing the mouth of the lagoon we reached the village, and after a little persuasion the natives got up a kŏpa-kŏpa, or native dance, for our entertainment.
It was, however, too hurriedly arranged, and there were not enough performers for it to be very effective. Two men and about eight women and girls danced. The latter, obeying a message sent on by Maino in advance of us, had donned their garments of civilisation, from a mistaken wish to show us due honour; but after some difficulty they acceded to our request, and with much laughing and chattering retired to take off their ugly long calico gowns, and reappeared more suitably clad in their pretty native leaf petticoats, but they had added coloured girdles and wraps round their chests.
Maino played the drum for the dance, and was surrounded by his wife and children and other women and children who joined in singing a chant and encouraging the dancers. A largess of tobacco closed the proceedings.
Mr. Milman, who was then Acting Resident Magistrate, offered to take Maino to Mawatta on the New Guinea coast, as that was his wife’s native place. At daybreak next morning Maino came to the steamer, and we paid him a tomahawk, five yards of calico, and some tobacco for a mask and other articles he brought us. He remarked he should give the tomahawk and calico to his mother-inlaw, as he had not yet “paid” for his last baby!
The anchorage at Tut is at the opposite end of the island from Maino’s camp, and a few bêche-de-mer fishermen and their staff of Australian blacks then occupied that part of the island. Tom Randolf, a Dane, kindly lent me a small galvanised iron shed with a thatch roof; part of it was occupied by sacks of flour, rice, and miscellaneous stores. At the other end he put a couch for me, and two native mats formed a mattress, on which I was comfortable enough. The door of the shed was fastened with handcuffs, of which I kept the key, and so did not feel a prisoner. Randolf gave me some fowls, eggs, and a chunk of turtle-meat, which formed a pleasant change after a long course of tinned meats. He also allowed me to use his fresh water, of which there is a very scanty supply, there being only a very little brackish water on the island, which Europeans cannot use. The natives as well as the settlers procured their drinking water from the island of Yam, some fifteen miles away.
Maino gave me a good deal of valuable information respecting the initiation of boys into manhood, and took me into the bush to show me where their ceremonies formerly took place. With Maino’s assistance I could fairly well conjure up the past appearance of this tabooed kwod.
On entering manhood the boys were secluded in the kwod for one month, and might on no account see a woman, or be seen by any. A large stone was shown me, with which a long time ago seven boys had been killed for breaking this rule. These misguided youths, tired
of the irksomeness of the discipline, broke away from the kwod, and seeing their mothers carrying some yams and sweet potatoes shouted out to them, and holding their left arms to attract attention, asked for food.
During the month of their seclusion the boys daily had charcoal made from charred coconuts rubbed into them; they might eat anything, except fat, and were in charge of their mother’s brother. During the day the boys were covered with mats, sewn together to form little tents; so that when the boys sat down only the tents were seen, and when they walked their legs alone were visible. The whole day was spent in the sacred camp. After sunset the uncles took the boys to a house set apart for them, and before sunrise, when the “pigeon whistles,” they were marched back to the clearing.
The old men taught the lads what they might and might not do as men. The code of morality so far as it went was very high, one quaint instruction being, “You no like girl first; if you do, girl call you ‘woman’!” For it is the custom here for the women to propose marriage to the men.
The accompanying sketch is an attempted restoration of the sacred area, or kwod, of about thirty years ago. The four large mats in the centre belonged respectively (from the foreground backwards) to the Shark, Crocodile, Dog, and Cassowary clans. The fires of the first two were close together at one end, the Cassowary’s fire at the opposite end, and the Dog’s fire on one side; on the side opposite the latter was placed the chief’s mat. The fireplaces are still to be seen. At one end of each mat was a large crocodile-head mask; besides these were some leaf coverings used in initiatory rites. The drums occupied the centre. The fires were tended by lads already initiated; the men sat on their mats, or sat and stood around; the boys to be initiated were grouped at each end of the kwod
F . 21. R K T I P
At the end of the month the boys were washed, gaily decked, and anointed with a pungent scent, thereby hoping to gain favour with the girls. They were marched towards the village with a large mat raised in front of them. On reaching an open space the mat was lowered, and the lads were then seen for the first time by their fathers, female relations, and friends. The mothers and aunts rushed forward, hugged, and cried over the lads. There were great rejoicings and feastings, for the boys were then acknowledged as men.
Amongst the relics Maino showed me the navel shrine (kupai or kupor) of Sigai, a great warrior and traveller of long ago. Before going to fight the men would stand around the shrine of large shells and dig their bows and arrows into the ground there, so that virtue might pass into them. The men also took a coconut, and broke it. If it broke evenly in two halves, they would have a successful foray; if the fracture was not straight, they would kill only a few men. Should a piece of the coconut shell break off, a close relative of the man who broke it would die soon. All the men who were consulting the oracle ate a small piece of the kernel of the broken coconut, and took up the broken halves and put “medicine” inside.
I believe I was the first European to whom these revered relics of the past had been shown, and I felt quite sorry for my friend when,
looking at one of the memorable stones with tears in his eyes, he said, “I think of old men, and I sorry. All finish now.”
Later Maino gave me the head-dress his father, “king” Kebiso, wore when on the war-path, and a boar’s tusk ornament which he stuck in his mouth to render his appearance yet more terrible.
Like a true gentleman, Maino did not let me know at the time of his reluctance to part with these relics of his famous father. I did not ask him for them, seeing how highly he valued them, but he offered them freely to me. I then asked what he wanted in return, and gave him what he asked for—a small oval looking-glass, a pocket-knife, a blue bead necklace, and seven sticks of tobacco for the head-dress; and for the tusk ornament a pocket-knife, two clay pipes, and four sticks of tobacco. He wanted me to have these mementoes of his father, partly because of our real friendship for each other, but also partly because he wanted them exhibited in a big museum in England, where plenty of people would see them and would know to whom they once belonged. They are now in the British Museum.
YAM
To return to the narrative of the present Expedition. We reached Yam in the afternoon, and all landed to have a look round. Maino took me to the old kwod, and I made a rough plan of it, and obtained a description of what it looked like formerly. After dinner I sketched a restoration, and later, when Maino and Jimmy Tut came off to the steamer, I got them to criticise it; and Maino made some sketches to elucidate details, the result being that I can with confidence restore what possibly no white man ever saw, or, at all events, no one has recorded it. The following day I returned to the kwod to take some photographs, and further information was given me.
There was in the kwod a low fence surrounding a space of about thirty-five feet square, in which were the shrines of the two great augŭds of the island. All that now remains are three heaps of shells, mainly of the gigantic Fusus.
Two of the heaps are about twenty-five feet long; the third is relatively small. Formerly, at the southerly end of each long row was a large turtle-shell mask, representing a crocodile and a hammerheaded shark respectively. These were decorated in various ways, and under each was a stone in which the life of the augŭd resided; stretching from each mask was a cord to which numerous human lower jawbones were fastened; at the opposite end was a stone on which a skull rested.
The small heap is the shrine of the augŭd Ger, or sea-snake, which originated from the hammer-headed shark (Kursi). These shrines were formerly covered over by long low huts decorated, like the fence, with Fusus shells.
Outside the fence were two heaps of shells which had a mystical connection with the shrines. These were the augŭdau kupar, or navel shrines of the augŭds.
Of course women and children might not come near the place, and, further, they did not know what the augŭds were like. They only knew of the crocodile (Kodal) as “Maiau” and of the hammer-headed
