RACIAL STOCK

While the aborigines are divided into a number of tribes, and are also grouped—by the Chinese—according to the “greenness” or “ripeness” of their barbarity, yet they may, collectively speaking, be regarded as belonging to the Indoneso-Malay stock, many tribes being strikingly similar in appearance to certain tribes in the Philippine Islands. Hamay, writing under the head of “Les Races MalaÏques” in L’Anthropologie for 1896, says that the aborigines of Formosa recalled to him the Igorotes of Northern Luzon (Philippines) as well as the Malays of Singapore.

Regarding the Malays of Singapore, I cannot speak from personal observation, as I have not been in Singapore; but as I spent six months in the Philippines, shortly before going to Formosa,[48] I am able to confirm Hamay’s statement as to the resemblance between Filipinos and Formosan aborigines. As regards the tribe of Igorotes, this resemblance extends also, to a certain degree, to social customs and religious beliefs. Considering physical resemblance alone, however, I should say that this is more striking between the Formosan aborigines and the Tagalogs of Luzon than between the former and the Igorotes—that is, where the Tagalogs are unmixed with Spanish blood. The resemblance between the Tagalogs and the Taiyal[49] tribe of northern Formosa is particularly striking as regards physical characteristics. The resemblance, however, ends here. The Tagalogs, as the result of Spanish influence, are so-called “Christians”; the Taiyal are not. The latter (Taiyal of Formosa) are a singularly chaste, honest, and fair-dealing people; the former (Tagalogs) are singularly—otherwise.

At least one Formosan tribe—the Ami, of the east coast—has a tradition that its forbears came “in boats across a great sea from an island somewhere in the south.” To this tradition I shall have occasion to refer again.

In connection with the racial affinities of the Formosan aborigines it is only fair to state that Arnold Schetelig says he “found to his great surprise that Polynesian and Maori skulls in the London College of Surgeons presented striking analogies with those collected by himself in Formosa.”

One can only surmise that the reason for the “great surprise” felt by Schetelig upon noting the resemblance between Polynesian and Formosan skulls was because he had previously stressed the fact of the linguistic similarity between modern Malay and the dialect spoken by the Formosan aborigines, and had gone on to point out the “remarkable harmony between speech and physical characteristics.” However, as, since the time that Schetelig wrote, kinship of race between Indonesian and Polynesian—or, at least, strong evidence pointing in the direction of a common origin—has been established, there need, at the present time, be no occasion for surprise; since Polynesian and Malay, or “Proto-Malay,” peoples doubtless sprang from a common stock, having its fountain-head in Indonesia.

Evidence which points strongly to an Indonesian origin of the aborigines of Formosa exists in certain of their articles of handicraft, notably the peculiar Indonesian form of loom, the nose-flute, and the musical bow. (To these I shall refer at greater length under the head of Arts and Crafts.) Also the custom of certain tribes—notably the Yami, of Botel Tobago—of building their houses on piles.[50] This in a climate, and under conditions, where there is no material need for such construction. When asked the reason for this, one gets the reply customary to any question that one may be foolish enough to ask as to the “reason why” of any custom whatsoever, viz. “Thus have our fathers done.”

To my mind, however, the strongest evidence showing Proto-Malay, rather than Chinese, Melanesian, or other affinity, is supplied by the language—considering the dialects collectively—of the aborigines.

I am aware that the evidence of linguistic affinity as in any way indicating that of race is rather disregarded by many anthropologists, on the ground that contact—commercial or otherwise—between peoples often affects linguistic interchange, or results in the introduction of words from the language of one people into that of another. With this I strongly agree, as regards different races living on the same continent (the different races of Africa being a case in point); or even as regards people living on neighbouring islands. With the Formosan aborigines, however, there has been no contact within historic times between themselves and other branches of the Malay or Indonesian race. They themselves are not a seafaring folk, and the people who have invaded their island—certainly since about the sixth century A.D., when Chinese records first speak of it, during the Sui Dynasty—have been successive waves of the Chinese themselves, the Dutch, the Spanish, possibly the Portuguese, and the Japanese. In spite of this fact, the language to which the Formosan dialects show closest affinity is Malay proper, that spoken on the Malay Peninsula, although there is some resemblance to that spoken in Java, judging from Malayan and Javanese words given in books, such as Wallace’s Malay Archipelago.

It has been estimated that about one-sixth of the words of the various Formosan dialects, i.e. those spoken by the different tribes, have a direct affinity with the Malayan language—that spoken by the Malays proper. With so large a proportion of words bearing a close resemblance, and taking into account the centuries-long isolation of the Formosan tribes—as regards contact with other Malay or Indonesian peoples—there can be little reasonable doubt that the languages have sprung from a common stock, as probably the races have done.

Regarding the tribal divisions of the aborigines, I shall mention the nine tribes into which they are now usually grouped—in the spelling of the names following the Japanese, rather than the Chinese, pronunciation, viz.: Taiyal, Saisett, Bunun, Tsuou, Tsarisen, Paiwan, Piyuma, Ami, and Yami. This is as nearly as the Japanese—or, for that matter the English—can imitate the pronunciation of the respective names by which these tribes-people call themselves. Each name seems merely to mean “Man” in the dialect of the tribe using it, except Ami (sometimes pronounced by themselves “Kami”), which means “Men of the North.” This is the tribe which has the tradition of having originally come from “somewhere in the south, across a great water.”

Mr. Ishii—the Japanese writer and lecturer on Formosa—mentions only seven tribes of aborigines, omitting the Tsarisen and Piyuma. This is according to the present Japanese system of grouping. They (the Japanese) say that it is because of “linguistic affinity,” i.e. because the dialects spoken by the Piyuma and Tsarisen resemble the tongue spoken by the Paiwan, that they group these tribes together. Perhaps! Certainly it is a fact that the tribes omitted from Japanese enumeration are rapidly disappearing; and their conquerors scarcely like to call attention to that fact. At any rate, Mr. Ishii is honest enough to admit that “the Piyuma possess a peculiar social organization and should be treated as separate from the Paiwan.” The Saisett is another tribe that is rapidly disappearing. Soon there will be only six tribes left to enumerate—that is, very soon. Soon, as history goes, there probably will be none.

The ethnological—or rather, ethnographical—map included in this book indicates the various areas in which the different tribes live, or over which they roam. However, the “Aiyu-sen” (military guard line) of the Japanese is gradually, but steadily, being drawn closer about the territory supposed to belong to the aborigines; and well within this territory—even in the mountain range, in which the aborigines were left undisturbed during the Chinese rule of the island—the Japanese Government has now established stations for cutting down camphor trees, and at some points machinery for extracting crude camphor, to be refined later in the great factory in Taihoku. The work at the “camphor stations” or “factories” in “savage territory” is done by Chinese-Formosan coolies under the direction of Japanese overseers. It is through this territory that the trolly (or toro) lines—referred to in Part I, page 69—have been constructed, over which the man-propelled cars are pushed up the steep mountain-sides.

As the tribes now exist, I should consider the Taiyal, of the north, the largest, both in population and also as regards the territory over which its members roam.[51] Next to the Taiyal, the Ami, of the east coast, is the largest tribe, both in population and in extent of territory; next, the Paiwan, of the south. On this point—that of the relative size of population of the aboriginal tribes—I should be inclined to agree with the Bureau of Aboriginal Affairs (Japanese), of Formosa, rather than with Mr. Ishii, who considers the Paiwan the largest of the aboriginal tribes as regards population.

The Japanese usually speak of the “Savages of the North” and the “Savages of the South”; those “of the North” being the Taiyal—or “tattooed tribe,” so called because of the rather remarkable way in which the faces of these people are tattooed, of which I shall speak more in detail under another heading—together with the few remaining members of the Saisett tribe. In speaking of the Taiyal tribe, the “Report of the Control of the Aborigines in Formosa,” issued by the Japanese Government, says: “Their district [that of the Taiyal] comprises an area of about 500 square ri (2,977 square miles), with a population of about 30,000; but on account of the advancement of the guard-line in recent years, their district is gradually becoming less” (italics my own).

This statement as to the district of the Taiyal “gradually becoming less” (something which is acclaimed as being to the credit of the Japanese Government) might with equal truth be made regarding the territory of the other aboriginal tribes, those who are grouped together by the Japanese under the general term “Savages of the South,” about all of whom the cordon is gradually being drawn tighter.

The Taiyal is not only the largest and most powerful aboriginal tribe on the island, but it is also—perhaps for this reason—the boldest and least submissive. Most of the adult men of this tribe have upon their faces the tattoo-mark signifying that they have at least one human head to their credit. The other head-hunting tribes of the island are the Bunun and the Paiwan.

In considering the divisions of the Formosan aborigines, it would be well for present-day investigators to guard against the error into which some European writers on the subject, in the early numbers of the China Review (1873-4), seem to have fallen—that is, the error of regarding the Chinese terms of Pepo-huan (Chinese characters) Sek-huan (Chinese characters), and Chin-huan (Chinese characters), as signifying ethnic or tribal divisions. In reality, these terms—in the Amoy dialect of Chinese—mean, taking the words in the order given above, respectively: “Barbarian of the Plain,” “Ripe Barbarian” (i.e. semi-civilized), and “Green Barbarian” (i.e. wild, or altogether savage). These terms were applied by the Chinese indiscriminately to the various tribes, irrespective of difference of dialect or of physical characteristics.

Regarding the latter point—physical characteristics: while, broadly speaking, all the aborigines of Formosa conform to the general “Malay type,” yet one who has been much among the different tribes can distinguish without much difficulty—quite apart from difference in tattoo-marking—between the tall, rather prognathous Taiyal of the north; the more mongoloid type of the Ami and Paiwan on the east coast; the handsomer, aquiline-nose type—approximating to that of certain tribes of the American Indians—of the central mountain-range Bunun; and the ever-smiling, gentler, darker Yami,[52] of Botel Tobago (Japanese “Koto Sho”), the tiny island just south of Formosa proper (see illustrations showing types of the different tribes).

To return for a moment to the Chinese system of classification—one based on various degrees of culture (from the Chinese point of view) existing among the aborigines: The Pepo-huan are about as non-existent in Formosa to-day as are the ancient Britons in present-day England. They—the Pepo-huan—formerly lived in the eastern plains, and the few who have not been exterminated have been amalgamated with the Chinese-Formosan population. The indefinite term of Sek-huan is sometimes applied to those members of the Ami and Paiwan tribes who have come most closely into contact with the Chinese. Under the term Chin-huan are included all the other tribes of the island.

Both Keane (in Man Past and Present) and T. L. Bullock, formerly British Consul in Takao[53] (in China Review, 1873), speak of a portion of the Sek-huan as being of light colour, compared with the other aborigines, as having remarkably long and prominent teeth, large, coarse mouth, prognathous jaw, and as having a weak constitution. Both writers suspect a strain of Dutch blood in these people—though just why weakness of constitution should be associated with Dutch descent I do not know. Apparently weakness of constitution has led to non-survival in a country, and under conditions, where the law of “survival of the fittest” holds rigidly true. Certainly I could find no trace of these people—taken as a group—either in the mountains or on the east coast. Half a century makes a great difference in an aboriginal people, especially when contending against stronger, conquering races.

The only extant people among the aborigines who can truthfully be described as having a “fair complexion”—as far as I could discover—are a subdivision, or local group, of the Taiyal, called Taruko. The Taruko group live within a restricted territory in the north-eastern part of the island, just behind the famous high cliffs. Not only are the Taruko of lighter colour than the other aborigines, but they have more regular and more clearly cut features. Ishii states that “they [the Taruko] are believed to be the oldest inhabitants of the island.” Of this I, personally, could find no confirmation, though Mr. Ishii may have good grounds for making the statement. At any rate, there is a tradition, both among themselves and among the neighbouring Taiyal, that the Taruko originally lived on the western side of the great mountains, and within the past few generations have migrated to their present habitat. If this be the case it is possible that they may have a strain of Dutch blood. Certainly they are famous for their intrepid bravery and unbroken spirit. They came under Japanese domination only in 1914; it is said they were never under that of the Chinese. These people hold a myth as to their origin, differing from that held by the other aborigines. Of this I shall speak under the head of Religion.

Before leaving the subject of the ethnology of the aborigines, reference must be made to the moot question as to whether or not there exists in Formosa a pigmy people similar to the Aetas of the Philippines. Regarding this most interesting point, I can only say that I was never able to discover a race of pigmies—a tribe or group, however small. But I did find, while in the territory of the Taiyal, isolated instances of individuals with apparently a pigmy strain. This particularly in the case of certain women—three or four. I do not refer, of course, only to the difference in size between these women and the Taiyal women—or the women of any of the other tribes; but to certain characteristics of physique in which they radically differ. For one thing, the shape of the head is distinctly different, that of these very small women being more negroid than Malay, and curiously infantile even for the negroid type of skull—i.e. with disproportionately bulging forehead. Also the whole shape of the body is more that of a child than is the case with most adult women, either among Formosan aborigines or others. The opposition between the great toe and the other toes is more marked than with the other aborigines. And—perhaps most significant feature of all—the hair of these women is distinctly “crinkly,” whereas that of the other aborigines of the main island, as of all Malay peoples, is absolutely straight—a fact of which the small women are evidently ashamed.[54]

The colour of these pigmy women—if such they may be called—is, however, not as dark as that of the Philippine Aetas or the Andamanese Islanders. On the contrary, it is rather lighter than that of the surrounding tribes-people.

Unfortunately, I did not take measurements of these small women—in fact, I had no instruments for accurately doing this—but I do not think their height can be over four feet two or three inches. An interesting point in connection with them is that the other aborigines among whom they live regard these women as being “different.” They themselves—those whom I saw—were taciturn and seemed averse to expressing themselves. Also curious, in a tribe where few divorces occur and seemingly little marital infelicity, all these tiny women whom I personally knew were divorced or separated from their husbands—Taiyal men; “mutual incompatibility” apparently being the cause.

What the true explanation is of the existence of these “pigmean” women, differing in colour, in features, and in physique from those of the surrounding tribe, I do not know. It is possible of course that the few whom I saw were merely anomalies—dwarf individuals of the tribe in the midst of whom they lived. But this would scarcely account for the difference in colour, still less for that in the character of the hair, even if it did for the more infantile type of cranium and of general physique. It must be remembered that these individuals referred to live in a zone through which the Tropic of Cancer runs; consequently they may be exemplifications of the theory sometimes put forward that every race living in the tropics has its duplicate pigmy race. Or it may be—and to me this seems more probable—that these few very small and dissimilar women living among the Taiyal represent the remainder of a pigmy people, now almost extinct, of whom all the men have been killed, and of whom but a few of the women still survive. And as these few (certainly those with whom I came into contact) seem childless, it is obvious that within the very near future there will be no representatives remaining—that is, if this last explanation which I have suggested be the true one. This is one of the many points in connection with Formosan ethnology which would well repay further investigation.

It may be added that the speech of the women referred to—when they can be induced to speak at all—seems more filled with guttural “clicks” than is that of the full-blooded Taiyal men and women.