ARTS AND CRAFTS

To deal adequately with this subject would require a volume in itself. In this book I shall speak only of those forms of arts and crafts which are either peculiar to the Formosans or which seem to show their racial affinity to other peoples.

First, as regards their dwelling-houses. The mode of construction of these varies among the different tribes, and has already been referred to in the preceding chapter, in connection with funeral rites. The houses of the Taiyal—simple bamboo and grass shelters, having only a doorway, but no windows[86]—call for little in the way of detailed description. These huts are mere sleeping-places, the beds being bamboo benches, built against the sides of the wall, at about two feet elevation from the ground. Only in rainy weather is either cooking or weaving done inside the house. The interior of the hut is in almost total darkness, the doorway being both narrow and low; so low that even a woman has to stoop in order to enter it. The smaller tribes whose territory adjoins that of the Taiyal also build huts after the fashion of their more powerful neighbours.

The Ami folk, certainly those living on, or near, the coast, substitute roughly hewn planks or small saplings for bamboo. This may, perhaps, be due to Chinese influence.

The houses of the Bunun and Paiwan are much more substantial, and are constructed on an altogether different principle, these houses being of the “pit-dwelling” type. With these tribes it is to dig a house, rather than to build one, since a larger portion of the structure is below ground than above it. A space about ten feet by twelve is cleared of trees and jungle growth, and a pit is dug. This pit is usually between four and five feet deep. The sides of the pit are lined with slabs of slate, quarried by the tribesmen. These slate walls are carried up about three feet above the surface of the earth, thus giving a wall-height to the house of about seven feet. For the roof bamboo poles are first laid across from wall to wall, then on top of these are placed other slabs of slate, giving the house a substantial, but rather cave-like, appearance.[87] The effect upon a stranger entering a Paiwan village is to make him wonder, first whether he has been transported into a land of gnomes, and secondly—and more seriously—whether or not the gnome-tradition may have arisen from a subterranean-dwelling people similar to the present-day Paiwan.

In all probability the slate pit-dwellings were originally constructed as places of refuge from the warlike, predatory tribes of the North; and judging from the number of enemy skulls in Paiwan villages, these slate refuges were effective. Curiously enough, however, the “bachelor-houses,” in which the young unmarried men live, are built of wood, on high piles, or stakes. The mode of entry to these bachelor-houses has already been described.[88] The young men are supposed to have at least one of their number constantly on guard, in order to detect the possible approach of an enemy. In such an event a warning is given, when the women and children retreat within the slate houses. The married men also repair to their houses, but only long enough to collect their arms; when, having done so, they sally forth to join the bachelors in an attack upon the enemy. Only, as a last resort, when hard pressed by the enemy, do the men—in such an emergency, bachelors as well as married men—retreat within the slate huts and, firing through doors and windows, attempt to keep the enemy at bay. Among the Paiwan the house of a chief has usually three windows, and the house of a commoner always one, sometimes two; consequently this mode of “aggressive defence” is often successful.

Among the peace-loving Yami—the inhabitants of the tiny island of Botel Tobago—slate houses are not found. Family houses, as well as the “long-houses” of the bachelors, are of the “pile-dwelling” variety.

However the dwelling-houses of the different tribes may vary, the millet granaries of all the tribes seem built after an identical pattern. There is in each village of every tribe a communal granary—a hut, built sometimes of wood, sometimes of bamboo, but always supported on pillars, some five or six feet above the ground. Near the top of each of the four pillars is a round piece of wood (among the Paiwan slate is sometimes substituted for wood) supposed to prevent rats and mice “and such small deer” from entering the granary.[89] This rokko, as the Taiyal call the “rat-preventer” (to translate literally), is found in the granaries and store-houses of many of the Oceanic peoples—both in the Lu-chu Islands and in certain parts of Melanesia; a coincidence which is not surprising. It is, however, rather surprising to find the same device used among the Ainu of Hokkaido and Saghalien. This fact tends rather to upset one’s theory that the culture of the Formosan aborigines is of purely Indonesian origin—unless perhaps one accepts the hypothesis that in this instance the Ainu have borrowed a custom from their southern neighbours; or again, unless it be a case of “independent origin,” a discussion of the pros and cons regarding which theory cannot be attempted here.

Far more remarkable than the dwelling-houses or granaries of the Formosan aborigines are the long suspension-bridges, which with marvellous skill they construct of bamboo, held together only with deer-hide thongs, or occasionally with tendrils of a curiously tough vine growing in the mountains, and throw across the deep chasms and ravines which abound in the interior of the island, especially in the mountainous section inhabited by the Taiyal, Bunun, and Paiwan tribes. These bridges are now imitated by the Japanese, as regards shape and construction. Only the material is different, galvanized iron and wire being substituted for bamboo and thongs. Ingenious bamboo fences are also constructed by the Taiyal, surrounding their village communities.

The weapons of the men, bow and arrows and knives, have been referred to before. Both knives and arrow-heads were formerly made of flint, but for many years iron has been used[90]; this being obtained by barter, until recently from the Chinese and now usually from the Japanese. The few old stone knives still remaining among them are regarded as sacred, and are used by the priestesses in warding off evil Ottofu at marriage ceremonies and on occasions of illness—as has been described in preceding chapters. The knives are not of the wavy “kris” variety used by some of the Malay peoples, but have one curve, the cutting edge being on the convex side of this curve. The scabbard of this knife consists of a single piece of wood hollowed out to fit the blade. Across the hollowed-out portion are fastened twisted thongs of deer-skin or strips of bamboo, or—when these can be obtained—strips of tin, which hold the knife in place when it is sheathed. Old tomato-cans and milk-tins are now eagerly sought for this purpose, and much in the way of game and millet will be offered for them. The scabbard of a chieftain or of an honoured and successful warrior is decorated with coloured pebbles set into the wood; or, in the case of the Ami, who live near the sea-shore, with bits of shell or of mother-of-pearl. The handle of the knife is bound around with wire, when this can be obtained. Wire is considered highly ornamental, and is greatly prized, and eagerly bargained for. It is used for ornamenting pipes as well as knives, and is also bound about the arms, and worn as bracelets by both women and men; besides being worn as ear-rings by the men—twisted into huge rings, and thrust through holes in the lobes of the ears.

The intimately personal tool of each woman is her millet-hoe, which has already been described.[91] But the pride of the woman of each household is the loom belonging to that household. The construction of this loom can be better understood by looking at the accompanying illustration of a Taiyal woman at her loom than by detailed description. Broadly speaking, the loom is of the Indonesian type, but the trough-like arrangement—the hollowed-out log, around which the warp is wrapped—seems to have been evolved in Formosa alone; I do not know of its occurring elsewhere in Indonesia, or in Melanesia or Polynesia.

The textile that is woven on this loom is made from a sort of native hemp, which grows in the mountains. The only colouring matter obtainable for dyeing the hemp is the juice of a tuber also indigenous to the mountains. This tuber somewhat resembles a very large and rather corrugated potato. The dye obtained from this tuber is of chocolate colour. It is the custom to weave the textile in stripes, uncoloured and dyed strands alternating. The effect is not displeasing, and the material is very strong, lasting for years, and withstanding almost any strain.[92] None of the tribes, however, are satisfied with the subdued shade which their native dye gives; and most of them have for years obtained, through barter, cheap Chinese blankets of brilliant crimson, which they carefully ravel, and with the yarn thus obtained they add fanciful designs in the weaving of their cloth. Much ingenuity is displayed in these designs, which often express a sense of the genuinely artistic, as well as the merely fantastic.[93]

Besides the cloth that is woven on looms, the women also make net-bags, by means of a bamboo shuttle and mesh-gauge, not unlike those used by American Indian women of the western plains—only the shuttle and mesh-gauge of the latter are made of wood instead of bamboo. These bags are of two sizes, the larger for carrying millet and other provisions, the smaller just large enough to hold a human head. It is often upon bags of this latter kind that the greatest amount of time and of ingenuity is expended. Every warrior has one of these bags. Next to his knife, it is his most treasured possession, one which he always takes with him when going upon a head-hunting expedition. If successful, the head of his enemy is brought back in it.

A woman who is not a good weaver or maker of bags is held in contempt by the other women, as well as by the men; and as previously stated—in the chapter dealing with Religion—it is believed that such a woman after death will not be able to cross the bridge which leads to the land of happiness—that occupied by her more skilful sisters and by successful head-hunters. This feeling seems especially strong among the Taiyal people.

In basketry and in the making of caps—a cap in Formosa being only a sort of inverted basket with a visor—the women are as skilful as in the weaving of cloth. This applies to all the tribes. Among the Paiwan, the cap of the successful warrior—and now sometimes of the successful huntsman—is decorated in front, just above the visor, with a sort of rosette of wild boar’s tusks. This is a symbol of honour as significant among the Paiwan as is the tattoo-mark on the chin of the successful warrior among the Taiyal.

While both in the weaving of cloth and of baskets—including basket-caps—the various tribes stand much on a level, there is great difference in skill as regards the making of pottery. In this art the Ami stand pre-eminent among the tribes on the main island.[94] Their pots, however, are crude as compared with those of some of the peoples of the South Pacific. The Ami do not use the coiling process in the making of pottery, nor do they use a potter’s wheel. Their pots are first fashioned roughly by hand; then, while the clay is still soft, a round stone, held in the left hand, is inserted into the interior of the pot. Around this the pot is twirled with the right hand; rather, with a small paddle-like stick held in the right hand. This may perhaps be called an approximation to the potter’s wheel. At any rate, the finishing touches are given with the paddle-shaped stick, which is used for smoothing and making symmetrical the exterior and interior of the vessel. The pot is then dried in the sun, and afterwards baked in a fire usually made of straw, i.e. dried mountain grass of a particular kind.

The Yami of Botel Tobago are skilful pottery-makers, their pots recalling in appearance those of the Papuans; but the other tribes are crude and clumsy in their attempts at the making of pots. These are roughly fashioned by hand, and, as they constantly break, are apparently not sufficiently baked before being used. Consequently for carrying water most of the tribes now use tubes of the great bamboo that grows in Formosa. For cooking they use baskets coated inside and out with clay, as a substitute for pots.

There is reason to believe that the skilful making of pottery was once an art more widely spread among the different tribes than is the case at present. Among many of the tribes there is a tradition that their ancestors were mighty in the making of “vessels moulded from earth.” The Tsarisen not only have this tradition, in common with the other tribes, but also they have kept among them for many generations—just how long there is no means of ascertaining—a few pots more skilfully made than this tribe is capable of making at the present time. These, they assert, were made by their ancestors, who, in turn, were taught by the Ottofu of their own ancestors. These pots are regarded as being most sacred, and are kept in front of the house of the chief of the principal tribal unit. So sacred are these particular pots that only the chief, or members of his immediate family, and the chief priestess of that tribal unit, are allowed to touch them. It is parisha (tabu) for anyone else to touch or even to come within a “body’s length” of the sacred vessels. In Formosa—except among the Ami and the Yami tribes—as in Polynesia, skilful pottery-making seems to be an art that is rapidly dying out.

Implements connected with the harvesting and preparation of millet—a short curved knife for cutting, formerly made of flint, now usually of iron, a winnowing-fan of basket-work, and mortar and pestle of wood—are not dissimilar to those used by other Malay peoples; nor are they unlike those used by the Chinese and Japanese in the harvesting and winnowing of rice. The aborigines, however, except those who have come directly under Chinese and Japanese dominance, look with contempt upon rice-eaters as being unclean—much as the latter regard eaters of beef and potatoes. All tribes among the aborigines seem to regard millet as a sacred food, the use of which was revealed to their ancestors by “further away God-ancestors.”

The agricultural implements of the east coast Ami show greater skill of manufacture than those of the other tribes, this perhaps being due to contact with the Chinese.

The Ami living on, or near, the coast also make—and successfully use—an ingenious fish-trap of bamboo having on the interior sharp spikes or thorns, pointing inward. These act as barbs, and prevent the fish which have entered the basket-like trap from leaving it.

The musical bow also is usually played by men, although priestesses occasionally use it as an accompaniment to their chanting during ceremonials connected with harvest festivals, and on similar occasions.

In the way of personal adornment, women of all the tribes wear, in addition to the wire bracelets which have previously been referred to, necklaces made of small rectangular bits of bone, carefully polished and strung together on sinews. These bits of bone are usually cut from the femur of the tiny Formosan deer, with which the mountains abound. The Yami women also wear necklaces made of seeds, and sometimes of shells.[95]

The most conspicuous adornments of the women, however, are the tubes of bamboo inserted through holes cut in the lobes of the ears; brightly coloured yarn—when this can be obtained; when not, dried grass—being thrust into the bamboo, forming a sort of rosette at each end of the ear-tube. This is considered highly ornamental by the tribes-people; the larger the bamboo that the lobe of the ears will support without being torn through, the more is its owner admired.