Rayikuna Sulumwoya (also called Sumgeyyata)

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A. U’ula (Initial Part)

1 1 Avayta’u Who netata’i cuts sulumwoyala the mint plant of Laba’i? Laba’i? Yaygu, I, Kwoyregu, Kwoyregu, sogu together with tamagu, my father, katata’i we cut sulumwoyala the mint plant of Laba’i. Laba’i.

2 2 Silimwaynunuva, The roaring sulumwoya, inunuva; it roars; silimwayniku, the quaking sulumwoya iniku; it quakes; silimwayyega, the soughing sulumwoya, iyega; it soughs; silimwaypolu, the boiling sulumwoya, ipolu. it boils.

B.—Tapwana (Main Part)

3 3 Ipolu, It boils, ipolu it boils, ipolu it boils agu my sulumwoya mint plant ipolu; it boils; agu my vana, herb ornaments, ipolu; it boils agu my kena lime spatula ipolu; it boils; agu my yaguma lime pot ipolu; it boils; agu my sinata comb ipolu; it boils; agu my mo’i mat ipolu; it boils; agu my pari presentation goods ipolu; it boils; agu my vataga big basket ipolu; it boils; agu my kauyo personal basket ipolu; it boils; agu my lilava magical bundle ipolu. it boils.

Dabagu my head ipolu; it boils; kabulugu my nose ipolu; it boils; kaygadugu my occiput ipolu; it boils; mayyegu my tongue ipolu; it boils; tabagu my larynx ipolu; it boils; kawagu my speaking organ ipolu; it boils; wadogu my mouth ipolu; it boils; ula my woyla Kula courting ipolu. it boils.

C.—Dogina (Conclusion)

4 4 Bulumava’u New spirit kadagu my maternal uncle Mwoyalova Mwoyalova kuvapwo thou breathe (the spell over) dabana the head (of) Monikiniki, Monikiniki, kuvapokayma thou breathe (the spell over) dabana the head (of) agu my touto’u. light wood.

5 5 Avaliwo I kick koya— the mountain— isikila it tilts over, koya; the mountain; imwaliku it subsides, koya; the mountain; ikaywa’u it opens up, koya; the mountain; isabwani it jubilates, koya; the mountain itakubile it topples over, koya; the mountain; itakubilatala it topples down, koya. the mountain.

6 6 Avapwoyma I breathe (a spell over) dabana the head (of) Koyava’u; Koyava’u; avapokayma I charm lopoum thy inside (of) Siyaygana; Siyaygana (canoe); akulubeku I drown wagana the waga akulisonu I submerge lumanena. the lamina.

7 7 Gala Not butugu, my renown butugu my renown pilapala; thunder; gala not valigu, my treading, valigu my treading lumwadudu noise made by flying witches(?) tudududu. tudududu.

The opening sentences of the formula are so clear that the translation word for word explains itself without any closer commentary, except of course as far as the names are concerned. Laba’i is a village in the North of Kiriwina, and it plays a considerable part in the mythology of the origin of man, since several of the principal sub-clans emerged there from underground. Laba’i is also the home of the mythical culture-hero Tudava. The mythology of the Kula, however, does not include Laba’i amongst the places, on which it touches. Perhaps this somewhat anomalous features of the formula may be connected with its obvious linguistic modernity? The other personal name mentioned in this spell is Kwoyregu, on which Layseta, who gave me this magic, commented in the following manner:

“A man, he lived in Laba’i, the master of the magic. It was not this man who first knew the magic of Monikiniki. That magic was partly found by Tokosikuna, partly in olden days in Sinaketa.”

In explaining this commentary it must be noted that the informant was a Sinaketan man, hence his local patriotism, for there is no definite, mythological version connecting the early practice of the mwasila with the village of Sinaketa. As we saw, Tokosikuna is indeed one of the mythical heroes with whose story the magic of mwasila is associated. Monikiniki is the name of one of the systems of the mwasila magic, which usually is said to come from a man of that name.

Phrase 2 of this spell contains four couples, each consisting of a compound and a verb. The substantival compounds have all, according to the alliterative symmetry so dear to Kiriwinian magic, the prefix silimway-, derived from sulumwoya, the mint plant. Such play on words, especially on what is the leading word in a spell, as sulumwoya is here, shows that the purely phonetic handling of words must be associated with the idea or feeling of their inherent power. The keyword of the tapwana (phrase 3), has been translated, literally ‘it boils.’ Perhaps it might have been translated in its other slightly different meaning ‘it foams.’ Probably it has both meanings to the mind of the native reciter. I think that the use of a word fraught with two meanings at the same time is one of the characteristics of native language. In this spell, for instance, the word polu appears as one in a series of such verbs as ‘to roar,’ ‘to quake,’ ‘to sough,’ all carrying the meaning of ‘noise,’ ‘commotion,’ ‘stir,’ a meaning which is in harmony with the magical effects to be produced by the mwasila magic. In this context the obvious translation of the word would be: ‘to foam.’ On the other hand, this spell is said over a piece of mint, which will be preserved in boiled coco-nut oil, and the double meaning here contained might be paraphrased in this manner: “as the oil of the sulumwoya boils, so may my renown (or the eagerness of my partner?) foam up.” Thus the word polu would link up the meaning of the rite of boiling with the context of this spell. This explanation, however, has not been obtained from a native informant, though it is undoubtedly in keeping with the general type of current explanations. What I have called before the magical concatenation of magical ideas consists in just such connections of words and their meanings.

The dogina (final part) contains one or two typical features. For instance, in phrase 4, the maternal uncle of the present reciter is asked to breathe the spell over the head of Monikiniki. In this, the present owner of the spell identifies his canoe with that of the mythical hero. In 5, 6 and 7, we have several grandiloquent expressions such as that referring to the commotion on the mountain; that comparing his renown to thunder, and his treading to the noise made by mulukwausi; and that describing how the waga will sink, through being overfilled with valuables. The last part would, as usual, be recited in a much more perfunctory and quick manner, giving it the effect of piling up words, one forceful phrase following another It ends with the onomatopoetic sound tudududu … which stands for the roll of the thunder.

The two specimens of magic here given in the original with a verbal translation, show how the linguistic analysis allows us a much deeper insight into the magical value of words, as it is felt by the natives. On the one hand, the various phonetic characteristics show the handling of words when these have to convey magical force. On the other hand, only an analysis word for word of the spells could give us a good insight into the frequently mentioned magical concatenation of ideas and verbal expressions. It is, however, impossible to adduce here all the spells in their full original version with linguistic comments, as this would lead us into a treatise on the language of magic. We may, however, quickly pass over some of the other spells and point out in them the salient features of magical expression, and thus amplify the results so far obtained by the detailed analysis of these two spells.

Of course these two examples belong to the longer type consisting of three parts. Many of the spells previously quoted in free translation contain no main part, though it is possible to distinguish their u’ula (exordium) from their dogina (finale). The very first spell quoted in Chapter V, the formula of the Vabusi Tokway (the expulsion of the wood-sprite) is an anomalous one. It is an invocation, and it is not even chanted but has to be spoken in a low persuasive voice. It consists of two parts: in the first one the word kubusi (‘thou comest down’) used as an imperative, ‘come down!’ is repeated with all sorts of descriptions and circumscriptions of the woodsprites. In the second part, several sentences are repeated to make the wood-sprite feel that he has been chased away. Both the keyword of the first part, kubusi, and the sentences of the second part have a direct force of their own. It must be realised that, for the natives, it is a great insult to be told to go away. Yoba, the ‘expulsion,’ the ‘command to go,’ stands in a category of its own. People are yoba’d, expelled from communities in certain circumstances, and a man would never dream of remaining, when thus treated. Therefore the words in this spell possess a force due to social sanctions of native custom. The next spell, given in Chapter VI, the Kaymomwa’u, is also anomalous for it consists of one part only. The word kubusi, ‘come down’ is also repeated here, with various words designating defilements and broken taboos. These qualities are, however, not thought of as personified beings. The force of the word is probably also derived from the ideas about the yoba.

The second spell, which is a pendant to the Kaymomwa’u, the Kaygagabile, or spell of lightness, begins with a typical u’ula:

Susuwayliguwa (repeated); He fails to outrun me; Titavaguwa (repeated); the canoe trembles with speed; mabuguwa (repeated) magical word; mabugu, mabugu, mabugamugwa; mabugu-ancient; mabugu, mabugu, mabuguva’u. mabugu-new.

The first two words are compounds with prefixes and suffixes added for magical purposes, as a sort of magical trimming. The untranslatable word, said by the natives to be megwa wala (‘just magic’) is repeated several times in symmetry with the previous two words and then with the two suffixes; ancient and new. Such repetitions with prefixes or suffixes of antithetic meaning are a frequent feature of magical trimming of words. This exordium affords a clear example of the magical play on words, of transformations for the sake of rhythm and symmetry; of repetitions of the same words with antithetic affixes. In the following part of the spell, the word ka’i (tree) is repeated with verbs:—‘the tree flies’ etc., and it functions as a key-word. It is difficult to decide whether this part is a true tapwana or only one of the not infrequent examples of an u’ula with a keyword.

Let us survey a few more of the u’ula (first parts) of the canoe spells, and then proceed to the examination of the middle parts and ends. In the next spell of Chapter VI, the Kapitunena Duku spell, the word bavisivisi, ‘I shall wave them back,’ (that is; the other canoes), is repeated ponderously several times. The opening of a spell with one word, which summarises in a metaphorical manner the aim of the spell is often found in Kiriwinian magic. In this spell there follow the words:—

SÎyÁ Siya hill (on) dÁban top of TÓkun Takuna ÍnenÂ. the women. Sinegu My mother bwaga’u, sorcerer, tatogu myself bwaga’u. sorcerer.

These words are pronounced with a heavy, thumping rhythm, as indicated by the sharp and circumflex accents. The second line shows a rhythmic and symmetrical arrangement of words. The remainder of the u’ula of this spell is similar to the same part in the wayugo spell, which has been given here in full native text (compare the free translations of both spells in previous Chapters).

In the ligogu spell of the same Chapter, the u’ula opens with another juggling of words:—

virayra’i (repeated); female rayra’i; morayra’i (repeated); male rayra’i; basilabusi I shall penetrate (at) Wayayla, Wayayla, basilalaguwa I shall emerge (at) Oyanaki; Oyanaki; basilalaguwa I shall emerge (at) Wayayla, Wayayla, basilabusi I shall penetrate Oyanaki; Oyanaki;

This part of the u’ula has not been translated in the text, as its meaning is ‘magical’ and can be better grasped in connection with the native text. The word rayra’i is a magical word only. It is first given with the antithetic opposition of the male and female prefixes vi- and mo-. The following phrase is a typical example of a geographical antithesis. The two names refer to the promontories facing one other across the sea passage Kaulokoki, between Boyowa and Kayleula. Why those two points are mentioned I could not find out.

In the kadumiyala spell, given in Chapter IX, we have the following opening:—

Vinapega, pega; vinamwana, mwana;
nam mayouyai, makariyouya’i, odabwana;
nam mayouya’i, makariyouya’i, o’u’ula
.

In the first line, we have the symmetrically uttered and prefixed names of the two flying or jumping fishes, pega and mwana. The prefix vina- is probably the female prefix and may convey the meaning of flying’s being associated with women, that is with the flying witches. The second and third verse contain a play on the root yova or yo’u ‘to fly,’ reduplicated and with several affixes added. These two verses are brought into a sort of antithesis by the last two words, odabwana and o’u’ula, or ‘at the top,’ and ‘at the bottom,’ or here, probably, at the one end of the canoe and at the other.

In the Bisila spell, given in the same chapter, we have the beginning:—

Bora’i, bora’i, borayyova, biyova;
Bora’i, bora’i, borayteta, biteta
.

The word bora’i seems to be again a purely magical one. The prefix bo- carries the meaning of tabooed, or ritual; the root ra’i suggests similarity with the above quoted magical word rayra’i, which is obviously merely a reduplicated form of ra’i. This is therefore a rhythmically constructed play on the magical root ra’i, and the words yova, ‘to fly,’ and teta, ‘to be poised,’ ‘to soar.’

The Kayikuna veva spell presents the following rhythmic and symmetrical exordium:—

Bosuyasuya (repeated); boraguragu (repeated).
Bosuya olumwalela; boyragu akatalena.

The exact meaning of the two words is not quite clear, except that they represent magical influences. Their arrangement and the antithesis of olumwalela (‘middle part,’ ‘inside’), and katalena (‘body’ or ‘outside’) is in keeping with the features observed in the other beginnings here quoted.

The tapwana (main parts) of the spells, though they take a much longer time in reciting, are simpler in construction. Many spells, moreover have no middle part at all. The first regular tapwana we find in our spells is that in the Kapitunena Duku. There, we have a series of key-words recited with a list of complimentary expressions. The key-words are verbs, spoken in the form:—

mata’i, cut, matake’i, cut at, meyova, etc. fly, etc.

These verbs are used in this spell with the prefix ma- or me-, which represents the tense of indefinite duration. This prefix, although, as far as I know, found in several Melanesian languages in full vigour, has in Kiriwina a distinctly archaic flavour, and is only used in certain locutions and in magic. Some of the verbs used in this spell are metaphorical in their meaning, describing the speed of the canoe in a figurative manner. The list of the complimentary words repeated with the key-words contains the enumeration of the different parts of the canoe. It is typical that the key-words are in their form archaic and in their meaning figurative while the complimentary terms are just ordinary words of everyday speech.

Another regular tapwana has been given in the Kadumiyala spell in Chapter IX, where the only key-word, napuwoye, has been translated: ‘I impart speed magically.’ The prefix na- is that of the definite tense. The formative pu- I was unable to translate, while the root woye means literally ‘to beat’ and in a somewhat more remote sense, ‘to impart magic.’ In the Kayikuna veva spell, the pair bwoytalo’i, bosuyare, meaning ‘paint red in a ritual manner,’ and ‘wreathe in a ritual manner,’ are given formal resemblance by the alliterative prefix bo-, which carries with it the meaning of ‘ritual.’

We see that the number of the tapwana is smaller, since only three spells out of seven have got it. In form, the tapwana are simpler than the u’ula, and an examination of a greater number of key-words would show that they also express directly or figuratively the magical action or its effect. Thus, here we had a verb denoting the imparting of magic, that is the direct expression of the action; then two words figuratively expressing it, and the series of verbal key-words enumerating the effects of the magic, such as flying, speed, etc. In other canoe spells, not given in this book, there could be found similar types of key-words such as: ‘the canoe flies’; ‘the buriwada fish is poised on a wave’; ‘the reef-heron wades’; ‘the reef-heron skirts the beach …’ all of them expressing the aim of the spell in accordance with the magical trend of thought.

From the linguistic point of view, the final parts of the spells, the dogina, present, as a rule, fewer remarkable features. Phonetically the most outstanding trait is the purely onomatopoetic sound complexes, such as sididi or saidididi, or the three words sididi, tatata, numsa, found in the Kadumiyala spell. From the point of view of meaning, there are in some of the dogina interesting metaphorical turns of speech, such as the descriptions of time in the Kaygagabile spell, where the difference in speed between the magician and his companions is expressed by allusions to the morning and evening sun, couched in figurative speech. Some mythical allusions also find their way into the dogina. These parts of a spell are undoubtedly the least important in the natives’ eyes; very often the same dogina is used with a number of formulÆ belonging to the one cycle, as we have noticed. Other spells have no dogina at all, for instance, that of Kapitunena Duku, where the onomatopoetic sound sidididi stands for the whole dogina. As said above, the manner of reciting these parts is more perfunctory, with fewer melodic modulations and phonetic peculiarities.

I have given so far a short linguistic survey of the canoe spells, dealing first with their initial parts, u’ula, then with their main parts, tapwana, and lastly saying a few words about the dogina. In a still more summary manner, I shall give a short survey of the mwasila (Kula magic) spells, quoted or mentioned in this book, beginning with the u’ula.

In the Yawarapu spell (Chapter VII) we have the beginning:—

Bu’a, bu’a, bovinaygau, vinaygu;
bu’a, bu’a, bomwanaygu, mwanaygu

Here the word bu’a (areca-nut) is repeated and used as a prefix bo-, with the antithetic roots -vinay- (female), and -mwanay- (male) and with the suffix -gu (first possessive pronoun).

The Kaymwaloyo (Chapter VII) begins:—

Gala bu’a, gala doga, gala mwayye

This is spoken in a solemn manner, and then follows the play on the root mwase, described above in the free translation of this spell.

Another rhythmic beginning, spoken with regular, strongly marked accent is to be found in the Kaykakaya spell (Chapter XIII):

KaÝtutÚna ÍyanÂ, mÁrabwÁga iyanÂ

Symmetrical arrangements of words, with alliterative prefixing of a particle and with antithetic uses of word couples are to be found in several other spells.

The Talo formula (Chapter XIII):

Talo, talo’udawada, udawada
Talo, talomwaylili, mwaylili

The Ta’uya spell (Chapter XIII):

Mwanita, monimwanita;
Deriwa, baderideriwa;
Derima, baderiderima

The Ka’ubana’i spell (Chapter XIII):

Mose’una Nikiniki,
Moga’ina Nikiniki

The Kwoygapani spell (Chapter XIV):

Kwega, kweganubwa’i, nubwa’i;
Kwega, kweganuwa’i, nuwa’i;
Kwega, kweganuma’i, numa’i

I have written them down here without full comment, to show their formal phonetic characteristics, which are indeed in all essentials quite similar to the samples previously quoted and analysed.

The main parts of the spells in the magic of the Kula do not essentially differ in their characteristics from the tapwana of the canoe magic. In their form, some key-words are simply verbs used without any transformation in their narrative tense. Thus in the Talo (red paint) formula, the pair of verbs ikata (‘it flares up’), inamila (‘it flashes’) is used with various nouns describing parts of the human head. The key-words of the Kayikuna Tabuyo (Chapter XIII) are also grammatically simple: buribwari, kuvakaku kuvakipusa (‘fish-hawk, fall on thy prey, catch it’)—the verbs being in the second person of the narrative tense.

In other cases we find the key-word transformed by reduplication, composition or by affixes. In the Yawarapu spell (Chapter VII) the pair boraytupa, badederuma repeated as key expressions is a compound which I did not succeed in analysing completely, though the consensus of my informants makes me satisfied with the approximate translation:—‘Quick sailing, abundant haul.’ In the Gebobo spell (Chapter VII) the expression tutube tubeyama is a play on the root tubwo used as a rule verbally and meaning ‘to be full in the face,’ ‘to be fine looking.’ In the Ta’uya spell (Chapter XIII) there is the reduplication munumweynise of the root mwana or mwayna expressing the ‘itching’ or ‘state of excitement.’ In the ka’ubanai the first key-expression ida dabara is an archaic or dialectical couple (the root is dabara, and ida is only a phonetic addition), which signifies ‘to ebb.’ The other key-expressions ‘ka’ukwa yaruyaru,’ ‘ka’ukwa mwasara,’ ‘ka’ukwa mwasara baremwasemwasara’ have all the verbal part irregularly reduplicated and in the last expression repeated and transformed. The last formula of the mwasila (Kula magic) given in Chapter XIV, has a pair of expressions used as key-phrase: ‘kwoygapani, pani; kwoyga’ulu, ulu.’ The word kwega, a variety of betel plant, is used in a modified form as a prefix and compounded with the verbal roots pani (seduce) and ulu (enmesh).

As to the final parts of this class of spell, I have said before that it is much less variable than the initial and main parts of a formula. Within the same cycle or system, the dogina often varies little and a man will often use the same one with all his spells. The sample given with the sulumwoya text will therefore be sufficient to show the various characteristics of this part of the mwasila spell, and there is no need to say anything more about it.

A very rapid survey of the phonetic characters of the kayga’u spells (Chapter XI) must be sufficient and we shall confine ourselves to their tapwana. The word gwa’u or ga’u means ‘mist’ or ‘fog’; verbally used with the meaning ‘to make mist’ ‘to befog,’ it has always the form ga’u. In the main parts of some of the formulÆ of this class, this phonetically very expressive word is used with very great sound effect. For example in the giyorokaywa spell No. 1, the key-words are aga’u (‘I befog’), aga’usulu (‘I befog, lead astray’); aga’uboda (‘I befog, shut off’). Spoken, at the beginning of the tapwana slowly and sonorously, and then quickly and insistently these words produce a really ‘magical’ effect—that is as far as the hearers’ subjective impressions are concerned. Even more impressive and onomatopoetic is the phrase used as key-expression in the Giyotanawa No. 2:

Ga’u, yaga’u, yagaga’u, yaga’u, bode, bodegu!

This sentence, giving the vowels a full Italian value, such as they receive in the Melanesian pronunciation, does certainly have an impressive ring; fittingly enough, because this is the dramatic spell, uttered into the wind in the sinking waga, the final effort of magic to blind and mislead the mulukwausi. The causative prefix ya- is used here with a nominal expression yaga’u which has been translated ‘gathering mist’; the reduplicated one yagaga’u I have rendered by ‘encircling mist.’ It can be seen from this example how feebly the equivalents can be given of the magical phrases in which so much is expressed by phonetic or onomatopoetic means.

The other spells have much less inspired key-words. Giyotanawa No. 1 uses the word atumboda, translated ‘I press,’ ‘I close down,’ which literally renders the meanings of the verbs tum, ‘to press,’ and boda, ‘to close.’ The Giyorokaywa No. 2 has the somewhat archaic key-words spoken in a couple: ‘apeyra yauredi,’ ‘I arise,’ ‘I escape’ and the grammatically irregular expression suluya, ‘to lead astray.’

The main part of the Kaytaria spell, by which the benevolent fish is summoned to the rescue of the drowning party has the key-phrase ‘bigabaygu suyusayu: the suyusayu fish shall lift me up.’ This expression is noteworthy: even in this spell, which might be regarded as an invocation of the helpful animal, it is not addressed in the second person. The result is verbally anticipated, proving that the spell is to act through the direct force of the words and not as an appeal to the animal.

With this, the survey of linguistic samples from various spells is closed, and we can briefly summarise our results. The belief in the efficiency of a formula results in various peculiarities of the language in which it is couched, both as regards meaning and sound. The native is deeply convinced of this mysterious, intrinsic power of certain words; words which are believed to have their virtue in their own right, so to speak; having come into existence from primeval times and exercising their influence directly.

To start first with the meaning of the magical expressions, we have seen that in this respect they are plain and direct enough. Most of the key-words simply state the magical action, for example when in one of the spells the key-word napuwoye, ‘I impart magical virtue (of speed),’ or in another the key-words ‘to paint red in a festive manner, to wreathe in a festive manner,’ simply describe what the magician is doing. Much more often the principal expressions, that is the initial words and the key-words, of a spell refer to its aim, as for instance, when we find words and phrases denoting ‘speed’ in canoe magic; or, in Kula magic, designations for ‘success’ ‘abundant haul,’ ‘excitement,’ ‘beauty.’ Still more often the aim of magic is stated in a metaphorical manner, by similes and double meanings. In other parts of the spell, where the magical meaning is imprisoned not so much in single words and expressions, as in explicit phraseology and long periods, we found that the predominant features are: lists of ancestral names; invocations of ancestral spirits; mythological allusions; similes and exaggerations; depreciating contrasts between the companions and the reciter—most of them expressing an anticipation of the favourable results aimed at in the spell. Again, certain parts of the spell contain systematic, meticulous enumerations, the reciter going over the parts of a canoe one by one; the successive stages of a journey; the various Kula goods and valuables; the parts of the human head; the numerous places from which the flying witches are believed to come. Such enumerations as a rule strive at an almost pedantic completeness.

Passing to the phonetic characteristics, we saw that a word will often be used in a shape quite different from those in which it is used in ordinary speech; that it will show notable changes in form and sound. Such phonetic peculiarities are most conspicuous in the main words, that is in the key-words and initial words. They are sometimes truncated, more often provided with additions, such as symmetrical or antithetic affixes; formatives added for the sake of sound. By these means there are produced effects of rhythm, alliteration and rhyme, often heightened and accentuated by actual vocal accent. We found play on words by symmetrical couples of sounds, with antithetic meaning like mo- and vi-, or mwana- and vina-, both couples signifying ‘male’ and ‘female’ respectively; or -mugwa (ancient) and -va’u (new); or ma- (hither) and wa- (thither), etc., etc. Especially we found the prefix bo-, carrying the meaning of ritual or tabooed, with derivation from bomala; or with the meaning ‘red,’ ‘festive’ in its derivation from bu’a (areca-nut); onomatopoetic sounds such as sididi or saydidi, tatata, numsa, in imitation of speed noises, of the wailing of wind, rustling of sail, swish of pandanus leaves; tududu, in imitation of the thunder claps; and the rhythmical, expressive, though perhaps not directly onomatopoetic, sentence:

Ga’u, yaga’u, yagaga’u, yaga’u, bode, bodegu.

If we now turn to the substances used in the magical rites, as means of ritual transference of the spell, we find in canoe magic, dried lalang grass, dried banana leaf, dried pandanus leaf, all used in the magic of lightness. A stale potato is employed to carry away the heaviness of the canoe; although on another occasion heaviness is thrown away with a bunch of lalang grass. The leaves of two or three shrubs and weeds, which as a rule the natives take to dry their skin after bathing, are used for magical cleansing of a canoe body, and a stick and a torch serve in other rites of exorcism. In the rite associated with the blackening of a canoe, charred remains of several light substances such as lalang grass, the nest of a small, swift bird, the wings of a bat, coco-nut husk and the twigs of an extremely light mimosa tree are employed.

It is easy to see that, not less than the words, the substances here used are associated with the aim of the magic, that is, with lightness, with swiftness and with flying.

In the magic of the Kula we find betel-nut, crushed with lime in a mortar, used to redden the tip of the canoe. Betel-nut is also given to a partner, after it has been charmed over with a seducing spell. Aromatic mint, boiled in coco-nut oil and ginger root are also used in the mwasila. The conch-shell, and the cosmetic ingredients, charmed over on Sarubwoyna beach are really part of the outfit, and so is the lilava bundle. All the substances used in this magic are associated either with beauty and attractiveness (betel-nut, cosmetics, the mint plant) or with excitement (conch-shell, chewed betel-nut). Here therefore, it is not with the final aim—which is the obtaining of valuables—that the magic is concerned, but with the intermediate one, that is that of being agreeable to one’s partner, of putting him into a state of excitement about the Kula.

I wish to close this chapter by adducing a few texts of native information. In the previous chapters, several statements and narratives have been put into the natives’ mouths and given in quotations. I wish now to show some of the actual linguistic data from which such quotations have been derived. Numerous utterances of the natives were taken down by me as they were spoken. Whenever there was a native expression covering a point of crucial importance, or a characteristic thought, or one neatly formulated, or else one especially hazy and opalescent in meaning—I noted them down in quick handwriting as they were spoken. A number of such texts, apart from their linguistic importance, will serve as documents embodying the native ideas without any foreign admixture, and it will also show the long way which lies between the crude native statement and its explicit, ethnographic presentation. For what strikes us at first sight most forcibly in these texts is their extreme bareness, the scantiness of information which they appear to contain. Couched in a condensed, disjointed, one might say telegraphic style, they seem to lack almost everything which could throw light on the subject of our study. For they lack concatenation of ideas, and they contain few concrete details, and few really apt generalisations. It must be remembered, however, that, whatever might be the importance of such texts, they are not the only source of ethnographic information, not even the most important one. The observer has to read them in the context of tribal life. Many of the customs of behaviour, of the sociological data, which are barely mentioned in the texts, have become familiar to the Ethnographer through personal observation and the direct study of the objective manifestations and of data referring to their social constitution (compare the observations on Method in the Introduction). On the other hand, a better knowledge of and acquaintance with the means of linguistic expression makes the language itself much more significant to one who not only knows how it is used but uses it himself. After all, if natives could furnish us with correct, explicit and consistent accounts of their tribal organisation, customs and ideas, there would be no difficulty in ethnographic work. Unfortunately, the native can neither get outside his tribal atmospheres and see it objectively, nor if he could, would he have intellectual and linguistic means sufficient to express it. And so the Ethnographer has to collect objective data, such as maps, plans, genealogies, lists of possessions, accounts of inheritance, censuses of village communities. He has to study the behaviour of the native, to talk with him under all sorts of conditions, and to write down his words. And then, from all these diverse data, to construct his synthesis, the picture of a community and of the individuals in it. But I have dwelt on these aspects of method already in the Introduction and here I want only to exemplify them with regard to the linguistic material directly representing some of the natives’ thoughts on ethnographic subjects.

I shall give here first a text on the subject of the priority in sailing, which as described in Chapter IX, is the privilege of a certain sub-clan in Sinaketa. I was discussing with a very good informant, Toybayoba of Sinaketa, the customs of launching the canoes, and I tried, as usually, to keep my interlocutor as much as possible to concrete details and to the stating of the full sequence of events. In his account he uttered this sentence:

“The Tolabwaga launch their canoe first; by this the face of the sea is cleared.”

I thereupon perceived that a new subject had been brought within my notice, and I headed my informant on to it, and obtained the following text, sentence after sentence:—

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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