Within these and around them were groups of natives--men, women, and
children--who all stood up to gaze at us as we marched along, followed
by the party of men whom the chief had sent to escort us. About half
a mile inland we arrived at the spot where the sandal-wood grew, and
while the men set to work I clambered up an adjoining hill to observe
the country.
About mid-day the chief arrived with several followers, one of whom
carried a baked pig on a wooden platter, with yams and potatoes on
several plantain leaves, which he presented to the men, who sat down
under the shade of a tree to dine. The chief sat down to dine also;
but, to my surprise, instead of feeding himself, one of his wives
performed that office for him! I was seated beside Bill, and asked him
the reason of this.
"It is beneath his dignity, I believe, to feed himself," answered Bill;
"but I daresay he's not particular, except on great occasions. They've
a strange custom among them, Ralph, which is called _tabu_, and
they carry it to great lengths. If a man chooses a particular tree for
his god, the fruit o' that tree is tabued to him; and if he eats it, he
is sure to be killed by his people, and eaten, of course, for killing
means eating hereaway. Then, you see that great mop o' hair on the
chief's head? Well, he has a lot o' barbers to keep it in order; and
it's a law that whoever touches the head of a living chief or the body
of a dead one, his hands are tabued; so in that way the barbers' hands
are always tabued, and they daren't use them for their lives, but have
to be fed like big babies, as they are, sure enough!"
"That's odd, Bill.
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