In the eastern islands of the Solomon Group there is a considerable uniformity in the construction of the canoe. “Dug-out” canoes are rarely to be seen, except in the sheltered waters of some such harbour as that of Makira, when they are provided with outriggers. In the case of the built canoes, outriggers are not employed, and, in truth, the general absence of outriggers is characteristic of this group. The small-sized canoe, which is in common use amongst the natives of St. Christoval and the adjacent islands, measures fifteen or sixteen feet in length and carries three men. The side is built of two planks; whilst two narrower planks form the rounded bottom. Both stem and stern are prolonged upwards into beaks which are rudely carved; whilst the gunwale towards either end is ornamented with representations both of fishes, such as sharks and bonitos, and of sea-birds. The planks are sewn together, and the seams are covered over with a resinous substance that is obtained from the fruit of the Parinarium laurinum which is a common tree throughout the group. This resinous material takes some weeks to dry, when it becomes dark and hard.

Of the larger canoes, which are similarly constructed, I will take as the type the war-canoe. Its length is usually from 35 to 40 feet: its sides are of three planks; and the keel is flat, the stem and stern being continued upwards in the form of beaks. Native decorative talent is brought into play in the decoration of the war-canoe. Its sides are inlaid with pieces, usually triangular in form, of the pearl-shell of commerce (Meleagrina margaritifera); and the small and large opercula belonging to shells of the TurbinidÆ with flat spiral discs produced by grinding down ordinary Cone-shells (ConidÆ) are similarly employed. Along the stem and beak there is usually attached a string of the handsome white cowries (Ovulum ovum), or of the pretty white Natica (Natica mamilla). In the island of Simbo or Eddystone, where these shells are used in a similar manner to decorate the large canoes, the white cowry marks the canoes of the chiefs; whilst the Natica shell decorates those of the rest of the people.

The pretty little outrigger canoes of Makira on the St. Christoval coast are only nine inches across; and the native sits on a board, resting on the gunwales of his small craft. From one side there stretch out two slender poles four or five feet in length and supporting at their outer ends a long wooden float which runs parallel with the canoe.

The war-canoes have the reputation amongst resident traders of being good sea-boats. They frequently make the passage between Malaita and Ugi, traversing a distance of about thirty miles exposed to the full force of the Pacific swell. A similarly exposed but much longer passage of ninety miles is successfully accomplished by the war-canoes of Santa Catalina, when the natives of this small island pay their periodical visits to a friendly tribe on the coast of Malaita.

Skilfully managed, even the smaller canoes, which carry two or three persons, will behave well in a moderately heavy sea. I frequently used them and had practical experience of the dexterity with which they are handled. On one occasion I was coasting along the west side of the island of Simbo in an overladen canoe; and there was just enough “lop” and swell to make the chances even as to whether we should have to swim for it or not. It was astonishing to see the various manoeuvres employed by my natives to keep our little craft afloat—now smoothing off with the blade of the paddle the top of the wave as it rose to the gunwale, now dodging the swell and taking full advantage of its onward roll, now putting a leg over each side to increase the stability of the canoe; by such devices, in addition to continuous baling, I managed to escape the unpleasantness of a ducking.

Although the larger canoes of the Solomon Islanders are apparently suited to the requirements of the natives, yet the want of an outrigger must be often felt, especially in making the unprotected sea passages from one island to another. The natives of Bougainville Straits who, as referred to below, occasionally fit their war-canoes, when heavy laden, with temporary outriggers of stout bamboo poles, must evidently be aware of the deficiencies of their canoes, unless thus provided: yet for some reason or other they make no general use of this contrivance. Bishop Patteson in 1866 was surprised to see on the St. Christoval coast an outrigger canoe which had been built by the natives after the model of a canoe that had been drifted over from Santa Cruz some years before.[130] He says that the natives found it more serviceable than their own canoes for catching large fish: yet in 1882 after a lapse of sixteen years, we found no signs of this style of canoe having been adopted by the St. Christoval natives. It seems to me that the explanation of the outrigger canoe not being generally employed by the natives of these islands lies in the arrangement of the larger islands of this group in a double line enclosing a comparatively sheltered sea 350 miles in length, which is, to a great extent, protected from the ocean swell. Thus, the head-hunting voyages of the New Georgia natives to the eastward, which may extend to Malaita 150 miles distant, are entirely confined to these sheltered waters. The passages between Malaita and the eastern islands, which I have referred to above, are, however, in great part exposed; but they are only undertaken in very settled weather.

On account of the frequent communication which is kept up between the different islands of Bougainville Straits, where open-sea passage of from 15 to 25 miles have to be performed, the larger canoes are in more common use and in greater number than in the eastern islands of the group. These large canoes vary in length between 40 and 50 feet, are between 3¹/₂ and 4 feet in beam, can carry from 18 to 25 men, and are paddled double-banked. They are stoutly built with three lines of side-planking and two narrow planks forming the bottom of the canoe: all the planks are bevelled off at their edges and are brought, or rather sewn, together by narrow strips of the slender stems of a pretty climbing fern (Lygonia sp.), the “asama” of the natives, which have the pliancy and strength of rattan. The seams are caulked with the same resinous material that is employed for this purpose in the eastern islands, and is obtained from the brown nearly spherical fruits of the “tita” of the native, the Parinarium laurinum of the botanist.[131]

The natives of Bougainville Straits do not decorate their canoes to any great extent; and in this they differ from those of St. Christoval, who, as I have remarked, ornament the prows and gunwales with carvings of fish and sea-birds, and inlay the sides with pearl-shell. The stems and sterns of the large canoes of Faro and of Choiseul Bay are continued up in the form of high beaks, which rise 12 to 15 feet above the water. I was at first at a loss to find the explanation of these high beaks, which give the canoes of Bougainville Straits such a singular appearance. In the narratives of the voyages of Bougainville and Surville who observed those high-beaked canoes, the former at Choiseul Bay in 1768,[132] and the latter at Port Praslin, in Isabel, in 1769,[133] we find the explanation required, which is, that these high prows, when the canoe is turned end on to the enemy, afford shelter against arrows and other missiles.

For sea-passages, greater stability is sometimes given to the large canoes of the Straits, by temporarily fitting them with an outrigger on each side, in the form of a bundle of stout bamboos lashed to the projecting ends of three bamboo poles placed across the gunwales of the canoe. The large canoes, in crossing from one island to the other in the Straits, employ often a couple of small lug-sails which are made from calico or light canvas obtained from the traders. I never saw any sails of native material: but it was worthy of remark that in 1792, when Dentrecasteaux approached close to the west coast of the Shortland Islands, he noticed “large canoes under sail,” which, to quote directly from the narrative, “annonÇoient une navigation active dans cet archipel d’Îles extrÊmement petites.”[134] Why the natives of these Straits no longer employ sails of their own manufacture, it is difficult to say. The very recent introduction of trade calico cannot have caused them to be set aside for those of the new material, since when a native wants to have a sail, and has no calico, he has no recourse to sails of his own manufacture. Rather, it would appear, that the canoes under sail, which navigated these Straits a century ago, belonged to a people more enterprising than the present inhabitants of these islands.

To the stem of the canoe, just above the water-line, is sometimes attached a small misshapen wooden figure, which is the little tutelar deity that sees the hidden rock, and gives warning of an approaching foe. One of these figures is shown in the accompanying illustration. They are similarly employed by the natives of the adjacent island of Simbo, and of other islands in this part of the group. Often they are double-headed, so that the little deity may keep a watchful look-out astern as well as ahead; and then they are placed on the tops of the high beaks of the Faro canoes. Probably the Chinese custom of painting eyes on the sides of the bows of the junks, and the similar practice of the Maltese, in the case of their boats, may date back to the little gods of wood that were attached to the bows and stems of the canoes of their barbarous predecessors. The origin of the figure-heads of our ships may perhaps be traced back to times of savagery when a similar superstitious practice prevailed.

“Dug-out” canoes are only to be found in the sheltered waters of Treasury Harbour. They are from 16 to 18 feet long, are provided with an outrigger, and are so narrow that the occupant sits on a board placed on the gunwales with only his feet and legs inside the canoe. In the quiet waters of the anchorage at Simbo, the natives make use of a raft of poles lashed together somewhat after the manner of a catamaran, such as I have seen on the coast of Formosa.

A few remarks on the mode of paddling, and on the paddles employed, may be here fitting. The long tapering blade,[135] which is in common use in the eastward islands, gives place in Bougainville Straits to the oval and sub-circular blades. All the paddles which I saw had cross-handles. Those used by the women of the Straits are unusually light, more finished, and are sometimes decorated with patterns in red and black. According to the length of the journey, one or other of two styles of progression is adopted. In short distances, they often proceed by a succession of spurts with a stroke of 60 and more to the minute, each spurt lasting a few minutes, and being followed by a short interval of rest. In longer distances they employ a slower stroke of from 40 to 50 to the minute, which is varied by occasional spurts. On one occasion when taking a journey of 12 miles in a war canoe, I was much struck with the different kinds of strokes by which my crew of eighteen men varied their exertions. They usually paddled along easily at about 50 strokes to the minute: but every ten or fifteen minutes they began a series of spurts, each spurt beginning with a short sharp stroke of about 60 to the minute, and passing into a slow strong stroke of about 28 to the minute. After a succession of these spurts, which occupied altogether about five minutes, they settled down again into their previous easy stroke of 50 to the minute. Frequent stoppages occur during the course of a long journey, either for enjoying a chew of the betel-nut or for smoking a pipe; and the average speed, from this reason, would not exceed three miles an hour, whilst a day’s run, between daylight and dusk, in fine weather would be from 25 to 30 miles.

When a corpse is being transported in a canoe to its last resting-place in the sea by the natives of the Shortlands, they adopt a funeral stroke, pausing between each stroke of the paddle, and by a slight back-water movement partly arresting the progress of the canoe. I remember on one occasion, whilst watching a large canoe starting from Ugi to the opposite coast of St. Christoval, remarking their singular style of paddling. At every other stroke each man raised his arm and paddle much higher in the air, and gave a vigorous dig into the water, a very effective style as regards speed, and one likely to impress a timid enemy with fear. .... Before leaving this subject, I should refer to the paddling-posture of these natives. All of them in the different islands we visited squat down with their legs crossed, facing the bow. The New Guinea practice of standing up to paddle a canoe did not come under my observation except in the case of outrigger canoes, and in such canoes it was not the rule. I should infer that the posture of sitting or standing to paddle a canoe varies in accordance with the use of or non-employment of an outrigger. If, as in the case of the Solomon Island canoes, outriggers are rarely used, then the sitting posture will be found to be the one adopted, since the unaided stability of the canoe does not permit of the standing posture. If, on the other hand, outriggers are usually employed, it follows that, as in certain parts of New Guinea, the more effective posture of standing is preferred.

As fish form a staple diet of a large proportion of these islanders, much ingenuity is shown in the methods devised for catching them. In the eastern part of the archipelago, kite-fishing is commonly employed. A kite[136] is flown in the air from the end of a canoe, and to it a fishing-line is attached in place of the usual tail. Whilst the man in the canoe paddles slowly ahead, the movement of the kite whisks the bait about on the surface of the water; and when the fish bites, the kite goes down. Instead of a hook and bait, the natives usually employ for this mode of fishing some stout spider-web, which gets entangled around the teeth and snout of the fish, and can be used several times. The explanation of this plan of catching fish is probably as follows. The kite swaying in the air offers some resemblance to an aquatic bird hovering over the water where a shoal of small fish occurs. It thus attracts the larger fish, who are said to follow the movements of these birds, and are thus guided in the pursuit of the smaller fry. It is with this object that the natives of the Society Group tie bunches of feathers to the extremities of the long-curved poles which, projecting from the fore-part of the canoe, support the lines.[137] As bearing on this subject, I may remark that it is not uncommon in these seas to observe porpoises, large fish, and sea-birds joining together in the pursuit of small fry. On one occasion, when in my Rob Roy canoe, I got into the thick of the fray. A large number of sea-birds were hovering over the water, which was alive with fish, about a foot in length, which, in pursuit of small fry, were themselves pursued by a shoal of porpoises, and were pecked at by the birds as, in their endeavour to escape, they leapt out of the water. It was a lively spectacle. The fish jumped out of the water all around me, whilst the birds hovering within reach of my paddle swooped down on them; and the huge porpoises, joining lazily in the sport, rose quietly to the surface within a few feet of the canoe, showed their dorsal fins, and dived again in pursuit of their prey. I stupidly fired three shots with my revolver into the hovering flock of birds; but it was not until after the third report that they temporarily suspended the chase. ... Another common method of fishing in the eastern islands, which resembles in its idea that of the kite-fishing, consists in the use of a float of wood about three feet in length and rather bigger than a walking-stick. It is weighted by a stone at one end, so that it floats upright in the water, a fishing-line with the spider-web bait being attached to its lower end. The upper end of the float, which is out of the water, is rudely cut in imitation of a wading-bird; and here we have the same idea exhibited which I have described above in the case of kite-fishing, the figure of the bird being supposed to attract the larger fish. There is, however, this difference. A glance at one of these floats, one of which is figured elsewhere, will convince anyone that a fish is not likely to be deceived by such a sorry representation of a bird. Doubtless we have here an instance of the survival of a more effective method of fishing, in which the idea has been retained, but the utility has been lost. This plan is in fact nothing more than the employment of a float, which is thrown into the water by the fisherman, who follows it up in his canoe and looks out for its bob.

In the eastern islands the fishing spear is frequently employed. With this weapon in his hand, the native wades in the shallow water on the flats of the reefs, and hurls it at any passing fish. The night-time is often chosen for this mode of fishing. A party of natives provided with torches, spread themselves along the edge of the reef and stand ready to throw their spears as the fish dart by them. During the day, when the reef-flats at low-tide are covered only by a small depth of water, the fishermen advance in a semicircle until a fish is observed, when the two wings close in, and the fish is surrounded. The kind of fish-spear which they use much resembles that which Mr. Ellis describes in his account of the Society Islands.[138] As shown in the engraving (p. 74), the head of the fish-spear is composed of five fore-shafts of hard wood, notched at their sides, and arranged around a similar fore-shaft. These are bound together, and the whole is fitted into the end of a stout bamboo, giving the weapon a total length of about seven feet. .... The fish-spear does not appear to be so commonly used by the natives of Bougainville Straits. There, its place is often taken by the bow and arrow, which are weapons that are not in use amongst the natives of St. Christoval and the adjacent islands at the eastern end of the group.

I should here remark that, when fishing on the reefs, natives are sometimes struck by the gar-fish with such force that they die from the wound. The possibility of this occurrence has recently been doubted. But that such is the case, we incidentally learned from the natives of the Shortlands. The people of Wano, on the north coast of St. Christoval, believe that the ghosts which haunt the sea, cause the flying-fish and the gar-fish to dart out of the water and to strike men in the canoes; and they hold that any man thus struck will die.[139] This superstitious belief could only have arisen from the circumstance of natives having met their death in this manner; and it is probable that in this respect the larger flying-fish would be quite as much to be feared as the gar-fish. Mr. Moseley, in his “Notes by a Naturalist,” p. 480, refers to such an event as not of uncommon occurrence in some of the Pacific Islands.[140]

The material, from which the natives of Bougainville Straits manufacture the twine for their fishing-nets and lines, is usually supplied by the delicate fibres lining the bark of the young branches of a stout climber, which is known to the natives as the “awi-sulu.” This climber, which is probably a species of Lyonsia, has a main stem of the size of a man’s leg, which embraces a tree, whilst it sends its offshoots for a distance of some 40 or 50 feet along the ground. It is the delicate fibres lining the inside of the skin of the young procumbent branches that the native selects for his purpose. By scraping the thin bark or skin with the edge of a pearl-shell, the fibres are first cleared of other material: they are then dried in the sun; and when dry, they are arranged in small strands, three of which are twisted together into a fine line by rolling them with the palm of the hand on the thigh. The natives sometimes obtain the material for their nets and lines from the common littoral tree, the Hibiscus tiliaceus, which they name “dakatako.”

In making their nets, our common netting-stitch is employed, the needle being of plain wood, 18 inches long, and forked at each end; whilst the mesh employed is a piece of tortoise-shell, having for a width of an inch a length of 2¹/₂ inches. The method of netting familiar to ourselves appears to be generally employed amongst the native races of this portion of the globe. We learn from the Rev. George Turner that in Samoa the same stitch and the same form of needle are employed which are in use in Europe.[141] The natives of Port Moresby, in New Guinea, net “so precisely in our mode that the seamen of H.M.S. “Basilisk” took up their shuttles and went on with their work.”[142] The needle employed at Redscar Bay, on the coast of the same island, is more like our own, the mesh being of tortoise-shell, two to three inches long.[143] When Captain Bowen, of the ship “Albemarle,” was visited in 1791 by some natives of the Solomon Islands who came off to him in their canoes, he thought he had found in the apparently European workmanship of their nets a clue to the fate of La PÉrouse, a very pardonable error which receives its explanation from the above facts.[144]

Fishing on the reef-flats with large hand-nets is a common occupation of the men in the islands of Bougainville Straits. Some five or six men form a party, each man carrying a pair of long hand-nets in which the netting is stretched on a long bamboo some 20 feet in length and bent like a bow, as shown in the accompanying figure. The fishing party wade about on the flat near the edge of the reef, each man being about 20 paces apart, and dragging behind him a pair of these clumsy-looking nets, one in each hand. When a fish is perceived they close round; and every man spreads out his nets, one on each side like a pair of wings, thus covering an extent of some 40 feet. By skilfully dropping his nets, when it makes a rush in his direction, the native secures the fish, which, dashing head first against one of the nets, gets its snout caught in the meshes; and a couple of blows on the head complete the capture. I have seen fish of the size of an ordinary bass caught in this manner. Smaller nets, 4 to 6 feet in length, with a finer mesh, are used for catching fish of less size. The large hand-net is known as the “sorau,” and the small hand-net as the “saiaili.” Such is one of the commonest methods of fishing in the Straits. For this purpose, fishing parties often visit the uninhabited small islands and coral islets that lie off the coasts. There they erect temporary sheds and remain for one or two weeks. In the numerous uninhabited islets and small islands which I visited, I frequently came on the temporary habitations erected by fishing parties; whilst propped up against the trees were the long bamboo poles on which the nets are stretched. The natives of St. Christoval and the adjacent islands employ a similar method in fishing on the reef-flats. Fishing parties often spend a week or two on the small islands and reefs which lie off the St. Christoval coast; thus the men of Wano visit for this purpose the islet of Maoraha, about 12 miles down the coast; whilst those of Sulagina cross over to the Three Sisters, which are about the same distance away.

Dip-nets, such as I have seen in common use on the banks of the Chinese rivers, are here employed, though on a smaller scale, for catching small fish. They are usually 7 or 8 feet across, and are stretched on two crossed bamboos. Seine-nets, much prized by the natives on account of the labour expended in making them, and buoyed up with floats of the square fruits of the Barringtonia speciosa, are commonly employed. There are other modes of net-fishing, of which I am ignorant, some of which probably came under the notice of the officers of the survey: and I hope that in reading these remarks they may be induced to supplement them with additional information.

The fish-hooks employed vary in form and workmanship in different parts of the group. In the sheltered harbour of Makira, the natives whiff in small outrigger-canoes for a small fish of the size of a smelt, using very fine lines and small delicately made hooks of mother-of-pearl. During our stay at the island of Simbo or Eddystone, one of the principal articles of exchange between the natives and ourselves was a somewhat clumsy kind of fish-hook used for catching large fish. The shank is of pearl-shell cut in the shape of the body of a small fish, 2 to 2¹/₂ inches long, and rather less than half an inch wide. The hook itself, which is destitute of barbs and is made of tortoise-shell, is bound by strong twine to the tail-end of the shank. Considerable labour must be expended in making one of these hooks: but so eager were the natives for tobacco, that we were able to obtain them for small pieces of this article which could not have been worth more than half a farthing. It is worthy of note that in the island of Treasury, about 80 miles to the north-west, these hooks are not made by the natives, who were anxious to obtain from us those which we had brought from Simbo. Very similar, though larger, hooks are used by the natives of other Pacific groups; amongst them I may refer to those employed by the Society Islanders[145] for catching dolphins, albicores, and bonitos. These hooks, wherever they are used, as I need scarcely add, answer the purpose of both hook and bait. The fish-hooks of European manufacture, which are one of the articles used in trading with the natives, are in demand in many islands, though not in all. In some islands, in fact, the native fish-hook is preferred.

The various ingenious methods of ensnaring and decoying fish, which are employed by the natives of this archipelago, would alone afford, to a true enthusiast in the sport of fishing, materials for a small volume. A plan which I saw employed at Ugi consisted in tying a living fish to the end of a bamboo float and using it as a decoy for other fish. The fisherman repairs to the reef when it is covered by a depth of between 2 and 3 feet of water. Placing the fish and bamboo float in the water, he follows them up either in his canoe or on foot. The fish swims along, drawing the bamboo float after it: it soon decoys some other fish from its retreat, when the fisherman watches his opportunity and catches his fish in a hand-net which he carries with him.

A singular mode of fishing, which Mr. Stephens of Ugi described to me as being sometimes employed in that part of the group, may be here alluded to. A rock, where fish resort, which lies 3 or 4 feet below the surface, is first selected. On the surface of the water is placed a ring of some supple stem so as to include within its circumference the rock beneath. No fish on the rock will pass under this ring, which is gradually contracted in size until the fish become crowded together, when they are scooped up with a hand-net.

The following ingenious snare was employed on one occasion by my natives in Treasury, when I was anxious to obtain for Dr. GÜnther some small fish that frequented one of the streams on the north side of the island. I was very desirous to have some of these fish, and my natives were equally anxious to display their ingenuity in catching them. They first bent a pliant switch into an oval hoop, about a foot in length, over which they spread a covering of a stout spider-web which was found in the wood hard by. Having placed this hoop on the surface of the water, buoying it up on two light sticks, they shook over it a portion of a nest of ants, which formed a large kind of tumour on the trunk of a neighbouring tree, thus covering the web with a number of the struggling young insects. This snare was then allowed to float down the stream, when the little fish, which were between 2 and 3 inches long, commenced jumping up at the white bodies of the ants from underneath the hoop, apparently not seeing the intervening web on which they lay, as it appeared nearly transparent in the water. In a short time one of the small fish succeeded in getting its snout and gills entangled in the web, when a native at once waded in, and placing his hand under the entangled fish secured the prize. With two of these web-hoops we caught nine or ten of these little fish in a quarter of an hour.

As in other Pacific groups, the natives sometimes catch fish by throwing small bits of some poisonous fruit on the water, when in a short time the fish rise dead to the surface. The crushed kernels of the fruits of the common littoral Barringtonia (B. speciosa) are thus employed by the natives. I tried them on one occasion in a fresh-water lake in Stirling Island, which abounded with fish, but after the lapse of two or three hours, no dead fish appeared at the surface.

The use of dynamite for destroying fish, by white men in the group, has led to its occasional employment for a similar purpose by the natives, whenever white men have been thoughtless enough to give them this substance. In August, 1882, I visited a village in the Bauro district on the north coast of St. Christoval, which had lost its chief, a few days before, from an injury to the hand, resulting from an accidental explosion of dynamite whilst fishing. Such occurrences must not be uncommon in these and other islands. In the previous April, we met with a native teacher at Mboli Harbour who had lost one of his hands from a similar cause.[146] At the end of May, 1884, I removed the left hand of Captain Smith, the master of the labour-schooner “Lavina,” who had received a very serious injury of the hand whilst fishing with dynamite on the coast of Malaita. Some of the fresh-water fish which I sent to Dr. GÜnther were obtained in this way through the kindness of Mr. Curzon-Howe, the Government agent of the “Lavina;” and as I witnessed the operation, I am in a position to pronounce on the hazardous nature of the mode in which the dynamite was employed. .... With reference to the natives, there are two very obvious reasons why this explosive substance should not be permitted to get into their hands, even if we disregard the hazard that would attend its use. In the first place, they might employ it against white men and against their fellows; and in the next place, its employment for obtaining fish would tend to encourage the already too indolent habits of these islanders.

I pass on now to the subject of pig-hunting in these islands. Wild pigs occurred in most, if not all, of the islands which we visited. I was frequently warned by the natives, when undertaking a solitary excursion, to look out for the boars, who attain a ferocity which, on account of their powerful curved tusks, it would be dangerous to provoke unarmed. On more than one occasion when alone, I came unexpectedly in the bush on one of these boars, who are in appearance by no means despicable antagonists. When they stand their ground, it is necessary to be prepared for their onset; but as a rule they only indicate their presence by the noise which they make when scampering away. In the islands of Bougainville Straits, where there are numerous plantations of sago palms, the wild pigs are very fond of the fruit of this palm before the albumen of the seed attains its stony hardness. They often select as their retreats the hollow trunks of the palms which have been felled and emptied of the sago. Their habit of frequenting the plantations of sago palms, and of feasting on the remains of the palms that have been lately cut down and the pith removed, was observed by Captain Thomas Forrest in the island of Gilolo, in the Indian Archipelago.[147] On the approach of any special occasion of feasting, pig-hunting becomes a necessary sport with the natives; but in addition, they frequently take to it for the sake of replenishing their larders. With his spear and a couple of dogs, a man is usually successful in getting his pig. The dogs bring the animal to bay, when he is speared by the hunter, who, if alone, at once sets to work to quarter and roast his quarry, and thus considerably lightens the weight he has to carry back. During my excursions, my natives used to frequently leave me when their dogs had roused a pig in the bush; and on one occasion, when, much to my indignation, they had been absent for an hour, they came back triumphantly with two large boars. Captain Forrest, in his account of his voyage to New Guinea, gives an illustration of “Papua men in their canoes hunting wild hogs”[148] off the island of Morty, near the large island of Gilolo. These men are represented with the spear, bow, and arrow, and a dog. Such a method of hunting pigs never came under my notice in the Solomon Islands and must necessarily be rarely employed.

Wild dogs are numerous in the bush in the interior of Alu. They never attack the natives or the pigs and, as they always slink away when alarmed, they are not often seen. They subsist on the opossums (Cuscus), waiting to catch them at the foot of the trunks of the trees as they descend to the ground at nightfall. When I was away on an excursion with Gorai the Alu chief, the native dogs that were with us ran down a wild dog and worried it to death. I came in at the death, and was not very much pleased with the spectacle which afforded much amusement to Gorai and his men. The unfortunate dog was apparently of the native breed. How these animals have come to prefer this mode of life I could not learn.

My native companions during my excursions rarely returned to their homes without bringing back an opossum (Cuscus). Usually this animal was caught without much trouble, as it slumbers during the day and may be then surprised amongst the foliage of the tree where it finds its home. Sometimes, however, when the keen eyes of my natives discovered an opossum amongst the leafy branches overhead, we were enlivened by an exciting hunt. On such occasions, one man climbs the tree in which the animal is esconced whilst three or four other men climb the trees immediately around. By dint of shouting and shaking the branches, the opossum is started from its retreat, and then the sport commences. This clumsy looking creature displays great agility in springing from branch to branch, and even from tree to tree. Suspended by its prehensile tail to the branch above, the Cuscus first tests the firmness of the branch next below, before it finally intrusts its weight to its support. It runs up and down the stouter limbs of the tree like a squirrel; but its activity and cunning are most displayed in passing from the branches of one tree to those of another. At length, scared by the shaking of the branches, and by the cries of the natives who have clambered out on the limbs as far as they can get with safety, the opossum runs out towards the extremity of the limb, proceeding cautiously to the very terminal branchlets, until the weight of its body bends down the slender extremities of the branch, and it hangs suspended by its tail in mid-air about ten feet below. The gentle swaying of the branches in the wind, aided probably by its own movements, swings the opossum to and fro, until it approaches within grasp of the foliage of the adjoining tree. Then the clever creature, having first ascertained the strength of its new support, uncoils its tail. Up goes the branch with a swish when relieved of its weight; and in a similar manner the opossum swings by its tail from the slender branches of the tree to which it has now transferred its weight. Finally the opossum reaches the ground, where its awkward movements render it an easy capture. It is then tied to a stick and carried home alive on the shoulder of a native.

The Cuscus is a common article of food with these islanders; and in some islands, as in Simbo or Eddystone, it is kept as a pet by the natives. Out of seven opossums that were kept as pets on board the “Lark,” all died within a few weeks, being apparently unable to withstand captivity. Most of them, however, were young. The cause of the death of one of them was rather singular. Immediately after its death the skin of the animal was literally covered with small ticks about the size of a pin’s head and distended with blood, whilst the body presented the blanched appearance of an animal bled to death. It had been ailing for a day or two before and was incessantly drinking all liquids it could get, even its own urine: but the ticks had not been sufficiently numerous to be observed; and in fact they appeared to have covered the animal in the course of a single night. As I was informed by the natives of Simbo, these animals subsist on the shoots and young leaves of the trees: on board the “Lark” they cared for little else than bananas. They make a curious clicking noise when eating, and often hold the substance in their fore-paws. When taken out in the day-time from their boxes they were half asleep, and at once tried to get out of the bright light into the shade. In the night-time they were very restless in their prisons, making continual efforts to escape between the bars, and as soon as they were let out they moved about with much activity. The older animals are sometimes rather fierce. One of them which belonged to the men used to spend a considerable portion of its time up aloft; and, when in want of food, it would descend the rigging and go down to the lower deck. Their naked tails have a cold clammy feeling; and with them they were in the habit of swinging themselves from any object. When the Cuscus was about to be taken up by its master, it moored itself to the nearest object by means of its tail. It always descended a rope head first, but kept its tail twined round the rope during its descent so as to be able to withdraw itself at once if necessary, the tail supporting the greater portion of its weight.

Although the natives, who accompanied me in my various excursions, usually displayed their skill in following a straight course through a pathless wood where they could only see a few yards on either side of them, yet on more than one occasion they were, to use a nautical phrase, completely out in their reckoning, and I had to bring my compass into use and become the guide myself in order to avoid passing the night in the bush. When in the interior of the north-west part of Alu accompanied by Gorai, the chief, and a number of his men, I was astonished at the readiness with which, in the absence of any tracks, they found their way to the coast. Gorai led the way; and on my asking him how he managed to know the right direction in a thick forest with neither sun nor trade-wind to guide him, he merely remarked that he “saveyed bush,” and pointing with his hand in a particular direction, he informed me that “Mono stopped there,” Mono being the native name for Treasury. There was a little uncertainty among the natives as to whether the old chief was guiding us aright; but there was no hesitation on the part of Gorai, whose course as tested by my compass was always in the same direction; he, however, disdained the use of the compass and ultimately brought us back to the coast. When passing through a district with which he is but little acquainted, the native frequently bends the branches of the bushes as he passes, in order to strike the same path on the way back. He must be frequently guided in his course through the forest by noticing the bearing of the sun and the swaying of the upper branches of the trees in the trade-wind, guides which were often employed by myself when alone in the bush: but when, as not uncommonly happens, there is such a dense screen of foliage overhead, that neither the sun nor the upper branches of the trees can be seen, he must employ other means of guidance. Rude tracks, usually traversed the least frequented districts of the islands which we visited; and their persistence appeared to be sometimes due to the fact that they were used by the wild pigs.

Fallen trees commonly obstruct the most frequented paths in the vicinity of villages: and there they remain until decay removes them, for the native has no idea of doing an act for the public weal: with him, in such and kindred matters, what is everybody’s business is nobody’s. Captain Macdonald, in his capacity as a chief in Santa Anna, adopted the serviceable method of employing natives, who had committed petty offences, in making good walks in the vicinity of the houses of the white residents. The example however was not followed by the natives for the approaches to their own village of Sapuna. Being quite content with their narrow footpaths, they probably could not understand that whatever contributed to the public good was also to the advantage of the individual.