# The Melanesians: Studies in their Anthropology and Folklore/Chapter 17

CHAPTER XVII.
DANCES. MUSIC. GAMES.
(1) Dances. It may be confidently asserted that in the Melanesian islands here in view dances have absolutely no religious or superstitious character, although visitors find 'devil dances' and 'devil grounds' enough. Men and women always dance apart; the songs which accompany the dances are undoubtedly some of them indecent, and I would by no means deny that there are indecent dances, though I never heard of them. There might be thought to be a superstitious character in those dances in which the performers are supposed to be 'ghosts,' if it were not that ghosts were believed to amuse themselves with dancing as well as men; it might be thought that when the members of tamate ghost clubs dance in masks representing birds or fish they are dancing in honour of what may be called their totems, if there were the least reason to believe that the emblems of the clubs had any character of the sort. An Ambrym drum set up when a death-feast is celebrated, and carved into a representation of a face, is no doubt meant to represent the deceased, so that it may be said that dances are performed before the images of ancestors, and the deceased may be called either 'god' or 'devil,' according to the terms employed; but after all it is but a festival in memory of some lately dead member of the community, and the dancing and drumming are parts of the festivity. Women's dances are everywhere ungraceful and uninteresting; in the rorohi of Florida they sway their bodies ​and stamp their feet in a circle; in the lenga of the Banks' Islands they stamp, and scream a song. In a Banks' Island feast while the men sing and dance round the drum, the women, two and two, with the arms of each over the other's neck, tramp round the dancing-ground with short heavy steps, shaking as they go. The most graceful men's dance I have seen is one in which in San Cristoval and Saa performers wave dancing clubs as they represent fighting scenes, with the accompaniment of a very soft and tuneful song. The general term for men's dancing in Florida is gavai in the siilaru they sit as if paddling; in the hauhamumu there is a concert of many bamboo pipes blown in certain tunes, without a song; this is a performance learnt by men from ghosts, and brought over from Laudari in Guadalcanar. Parties of men practise these dances till they are perfect, and then start on a voyage about the neighbouring islands, going a-dancing, gavai tona, exhibiting their performance everywhere, and receiving hospitality and handsome presents wherever they go. After the return of such a party they will divide from two to five hundred rongo, a large sum of money, among them. In Santa Cruz every great man has near his house his dancing-ground, nava, fenced with huge discs of coral; the great aim in dancing is to stamp the feet all together with the utmost exactness and the loudest shock. Many of the Banks' Island dances, in elaborate figures carried out with the greatest precision, are really beautiful and interesting; the performers, with their heads wonderfully adorned, and their limbs decorated with shining fringes of unopened palm-fronds, advance and retire in two lines, interlace in curves, cross and recross in ranks, waving their arms and stamping their feet, on which rattling anklets of empty nuts are hung, to the beat of a bamboo drum carried by a leader, or beaten by a seated performer. To keep them right in their steps they repeat to themselves the words of the song belonging to the dance. In Maewo, Aurora, clapping of hands plays a great part in common dancing and singing. In Lepers' Island, when a hundred or more men dance and sing round a ​drum or drums in a bue, 'the earth shakes under their feet, and the land resounds about them;' and indeed it is no wonder that such dances give excitement and delight. The favourite time for dancing is a moonlight night, if the dance is the chief thing in view; the dancing and drumming of the common feast goes on in daytime.
(2) Songs. Words fitted to music are the songs and poetry of the people; the character of the tunes differing more in the various groups and islands than the general character of the words. There is no conception of poetry without a tune, though tunes without words are not unknown. In songs certain words or forms of expression, which are not used in common speech, are everywhere thought poetical and appropriate, and words are lengthened or shortened to fit what must be called the metre. In the Banks' Islands the use of a distinct song-dialect is very remarkable, in which not only are words used which are never used in speech, some probably archaic and some borrowed from a neighbouring island, and not only are words contracted or prolonged to suit the tune, but in each island the song-language is so different from that of ordinary speech that the two have the appearance of two dialects, as completely as in the Dialogue and Chorus of a Greek play. The difference is least conspicuous in Gaua, Santa Maria, most conspicuous probably in Mota. On one side of Mota songs are composed in something like the language of Gaua, on the other in something like that of Motlav; yet the language of no Mota song is the spoken language of Gaua or Motlav, nor is a Mota song quite in the song-dialect of Gaua or Motlav. Every one of the Banks' Islands has at least one form of speech for songs and another for common use, while some, like Mota, are not content with two. In Santa Maria, however, while the spoken language of Lakona is very different from that of Gaua, the songs are almost if not quite the same. A poet or poetess more or less distinguished is probably found in every considerable village throughout the islands; when some remarkable event occurs, the launching of a canoe, a visit of strangers, or a feast, song​makers are engaged to celebrate it and rewarded, or the occasion produces a song for which, in the Banks' Islands at any rate, a complimentary present is made. In Florida a song is linge; a song about some one, in honour of him, is his song, na lingena; in the Banks' Islands a song is as, and is called the song of the person celebrated, na asina; to compose a song in Florida is to fit it, kanggea na linge, in Mota it is to measure it, towo as. New words are thus fitted to old tunes, but new tunes are invented, as well as old ones modified. In the Banks' Islands a song has certain regular successive parts with distinctive names, each introduced by a vocalic prelude which marks the qau-as, the knee, or turn, of the song. Some songs are led off by a single voice, we put, some begin with many voices together, we saru; sometimes the party of singers is divided, some start the song, we tiu, the rest follow with an answering part, we sarav goro. Songs are no doubt often indecent and obscene, but there are many which are perfectly harmless, some pretty in tune and words, some in which poetry may be recognized, though much is conventional. The following song is surely not devoid of poetry, and might be so translated as to give a very favourable impression of native powers. It was composed at Lakona, in Santa Maria, in honour of Maros in his absence at sea, whose song it therefore is, and who speaks in the exordium. 'Leale! ale! I am an eagle, I have soared to the furthest dim horizon. I am an eagle, I have flown and lighted at Mota. I have sailed with whirring noise round the mountain. I have gone down island after island in the West to the base of heaven. I have sailed, I have seen the lands. I have sailed in circles, I have been strongly set. An ill wind has drifted me away, has drawn me away from you two. How shall I make my way round to you two? The sounding sea stretches empty to keep me away from you. You, Mother, you are crying for me, how shall I see your face? You, Father, are crying for me, how shall I see your face? I only long for you, and weep; it is irksome to me; I go about as an orphan, I alone, and who is my companion? ​ Roulsulwar (his little daughter), you are crying after me without the house.' (Repeat this first part; then the poet speaks to Maros.) 'Youths! My friend, you have lingered; I have lingered over your song. I have measured it, and lengthened out my voice, the sound of it has spread down hither to my place. Ask, hear; who was it that measured the song of Maros? It was the song-measurer who sits by the way to Lakona.' Repeat the last part. The songs of Aurora strike visitors as more musical than most. The following is a translation of a song used in flying a kite in Lepers' Island. 'Wind! wherever you may abide, wherever you may abide, Wind! come hither; pray take my kite away from me afar. E-u! E-u! Wind! blow strong and steady, blow and come forth, O Wind!'
FLORIDA GALEVU.
(The treble and bass, with other notes between occasionally thrown in: written down by Mr. G. Bailey of Norfolk Island.)
(4) Games. A game which belongs to the Banks' Islands and New Hebrides is tika, the Fiji tiqa, played with reeds dashed in such a manner upon the ground that they rise in the air and fly to a considerable distance. In some islands, as Santa Maria, a string is used to give impetus, and in some the reed is thrown also from the foot. The game is played by two parties, who count pigs for the furthest casts, the number of pigs counted as gained depending on the number of knots in the winning tika. There is a proper season for the game, that in which the yams are dug, the reeds on which the yam vines had been trained having apparently served originally for the tika. When two villages engage in a match they sometimes come to blows. There are marks on the tiqa to shew to whom they belonged. It is remarkable that in Mota a decimal set of numerals is used in this game, distinct from the quinary set used on every other occasion of counting; in Florida also there are numerals used in a game, but only the common numerals in an altered form. In the Banks' Islands boys play at hide-and-seek, rurqonaqona; there are two sides, and if the boy who is hiding is not found by the seekers, he suddenly jumps up and counts a pig against them. There is also a kind of prisoners' base, taptapau; each party has a cooking-place, um> in which they are safe, and outside which they may be caught. In Lepers' Island they have football, played by men and boys in two sides between two fences, with a native orange, bread-fruit, or cocoa-nut; the goal is gained when the ball is driven out at ​either end from between the fences; a pig is counted for each goal. In the same island in waliweli tambagau two parties sit opposite to one another in the moonlight; a man or boy from one side comes forward holding the door-shutter of a house, tambagau, before him, and the other side guess who he is and call his name; if they fail a pig is counted against them; if they succeed one of their party takes the door. The women play the same among themselves. They have also a game like hunt-the-slipper, and play at hiding canarium almonds, counting pigs in success. Cat's-cradle, in Lepers' Island lelegaro, in Florida honggo, with many figures, is common throughout the islands. I have seen in Florida a game in which two parties of boys tossed backwards and forwards a rough ball on the points of sticks, the object being to keep it from the ground as long as possible. In the Solomon Islands the great game is throwing and dodging spears, or sticks instead of spears. This is to some extent represented in the Banks' Islands by two parties throwing native oranges at each other. At Lakona they used in a friendly way to resort to the sarevnate, the shooting-ground, and practise at one another with their bows and arrows. In the Banks' Islands and Torres Islands, and no doubt in other groups, they use the surf-board, tapa. In Mota, taptapui is racing to get first to a certain object; tititiro is throwing at a tree or some other mark. Archery is practised with banana trunks set up as targets. Counting is made into a kind of game; in the Banks' Islands strokes are arranged on the sand, or on a board, in a certain figure representing numbers, and these are counted with the finger accompanied by a whistled tune; something of the same kind is done in Florida, sticking fingers into the sand in number according to a counting song brought from Alite. Boys sitting together in a narrow ring toss from side to side another who stands among them, and holds himself as stiffly as he can, so that he is thrown like a log of wood. Children in the Banks' Islands, when a rainbow is seen, play at cutting off its end, tolo gasiosio; if they can cut it short there will be no more rain. There is in the Banks' Islands a certain approach to ​acting; a man will imitate the voice and gestures of another, the gait of a cripple, the fury of a man in a rage, or will pretend to be a woman, for the amusement of a crowd.
(5) Toys. Kites, used in fishing in the Solomon Islands and Santa Cruz, are used as toys in the Banks' Islands and New Hebrides, though not commonly of late years. They have their season, being made and flown when the gardens are being cleared for planting. The kite is steadied by a long reed tail, and a good one will fly and hover very well. The name is in the Banks' Islands rea, in Lepers' Island mala, an eagle. The use of the bull-roarer, buro, in the Mysteries at Florida, has been mentioned. It is there only that any superstitious character belongs to it. There is no mystery about it when it is used in the Banks' Islands to drive away a ghost, as in Mota, where it is called nanamatea, death-maker, or to make a mourning sound, as in Merlav, where it is called worung-tamb, a wailer, and used the night after a death. It is a common plaything; in Vanua Lava they call it mala, a pig, from the noise it makes; in Maewo it is tal-viv, a whirring string; in Araga it is merely tavire bua, a bit of bamboo. Rattles are merely toys; in the Banks' Islands the dry seed-pods of a cassia are tied in a row between two strips of bamboo. In the same group the name of a toy, taplagolago, has been adopted for the English wheel, and after that for any wheeled vehicle or machine. Children used to make a broad hoop of a sago frond, and set it running down hill, with the cry taplagolago!' it runs of itself!' Tops are made in the Solomon Islands of the nut of a palm and a pin of wood, the whole visible length of which, between two and three inches long, is below the head. To spin the top a doubled string is wound round the shaft, and the two ends are pulled smartly asunder. A similar top was used in Pitcairn Island by the half Tahitian children of the Bounty Mutineers.