The Mafulu Part 16

Pausing here for a moment, I may admit that, though I have told the tale of this ceremony, with its private cogitations--real or pretended--of the magic men, as it was told to me, the tale is open to obvious questions. How can a magic man from a distant community hear the wailing? What would happen if the results of the ceremonies of the various magic men were to differ? What would be the situation if a chief whose death was indicated by the ceremony lived, or if one whose recovery was foretold became worse and died? All these points I tried to elucidate without success; but possibly the answer to the query as to divergence of results may be that the men take care that the results of their experiments shall not differ.

It is believed by the natives that, if a hostile community can secure some of the food remnants and band, and hand them to their own magic man, for him to go through the same ceremony, he may maliciously bring about an unfavourable result, and thus may cause the death of the chief. If the belief that such a thing had happened arose, it would be a _casus belli_ with that other community; and a case is known in which an inter-community fight did occur on this ground.

If the report be that the chief is to die, the special woman attendant will give him the blow on the head, as in the case of the ordinary villager. The shouting of the men outside when the chiefs death is announced is much louder than in the case of a commoner; and as they shout they brandish their spears, and strike the roof of the chiefs house with the spear points, and some of the men strike it with adzes and clubs. The spreading of the news to other communities is on a wider scale, and the number of people who respond to the news and come to the funeral is very great, and includes a larger number of chiefs and prominent men; there are more, and much larger, parties of them. The funeral song of the women, commenced on the announcement of death, lasts much longer--indeed for hours. In fact, as numerous large bodies of people keep coming in, and some of these coming from a distance may not arrive until just before the funeral, and as the funeral song has to be recommenced as each fresh party comes in, and lasts so much longer each time, it follows that this funeral song practically continues without ceasing from the moment when death is announced until the actual funeral. The immediate smearing by men and women of their bodies with mud is done by all the members of the entire community. When the guests reach the village, they are all, both men and women, smeared with mud, and they loudly call on the dead chief by his t.i.tle _amidi_, or as _babe_ (father). Also the various chiefs'

wives among the guests remain in the house after seeing the body, instead of coming out with the other guest women.

The funeral does not take place till thirty-six or forty-eight hours after the death. The various chiefs' wives take part in the wrapping up of the body; and to the ordinary wrappings are added large pieces of bark cloth.

The grave [105] is quite different from that of a commoner. There are two methods of sepulture adopted for chiefs, the grave being in both cases in or by the edge of the open village enclosure.

The first of these methods is a burial platform, a very rough erection of upright poles from 9 to 12 feet high, the number of which may be four, or less or more than that, at the top of which erection is a rude wooden box-shaped receptacle, about 2 or 3 feet square, and from 6 inches to a foot deep, and uncovered at the top, in which receptacle the corpse is placed. Sometimes the supporting structure, instead of being composed of a number of poles, is only a rough tree trunk, on which the lower ends of the branches are left to support the box.

The second method is tree burial. The tree in which this is done is a special form of fig tree called _gabi_, the burial box, similar to the one above described, being placed in its lowest fork, or, if that be already occupied, then in the next one, and so on. [106] A tree has been seen with six of these boxes in it, one above another. This tree is specially used for such burials. The natives will never cut it down. In selecting a village site they will often specially choose one where one of these trees is growing; and indeed the presence of such a tree in the bush raises a probability that there is, or has been, a native village there. [107]

If a burial platform afterwards falls down through decay, the people throw away all the bones, except the skull and the larger bones of the arms and legs; and these they deal with in one of three alternative ways. They either (1) dig a shallow grave in the ground under the fallen platform, and put the skull and special bones there, and then fill in the grave with soil, on this put a heap of stones, and on these put the wooden remains of the collapsed platform, planting round them tobacco or croton, or some other fine-leaved plant, or (2) they put the skull and special bones in a box on the _gabi_ burying tree, or (3) they take them to the _emone_, and there hang them up till they are wanted for a big feast. In the same way, if a tree box falls, they retain only the skull and large arm and leg bones, and replace them in a new box in the same tree.

We have already seen a chiefs burial platform in the two plates 69 and 70 relating to the big feast at Seluku, and the following plates are additional ill.u.s.trations:--Plate 84 is the grave of a chiefs child in the village of Malala. The supports of the grave rise from the village enclosure fence behind, and are quite distinct from the underground commoner's grave, which is seen in front. The positions of the two graves can be seen in the general view of the village (Plate 58). Plate 85 is a group of graves of chiefs and chiefs' relatives in the village of Tullalave (community of Auga). Plate 86 shows the grave of a chiefs child in the village of Faribe (community of Faribe). The form of this grave is quite different from those of the others, and is not, I think, so common, but a grave somewhat resembling it is seen in Plate 60.

Plate 87 is a _gabi_ fig tree, used for tree burial, near to the village of Seluku, and Plate 88 shows the remains of an old burial box in one of its forks. The bones are still in this box, and indeed one of them may be just discerned at the extreme left, close to the upright stem of the tree.

Plate 89 ill.u.s.trates what I have said as to what is done when a burial platform falls down from decay. The skull and larger arm and leg bones of the body have been buried underground, and upon these have been heaped first stones and then the remains of the collapsed platform, and one little foliage plant and dried-up looking specimens of others can be seen around it. This picture was taken in the village of Seluku, and the actual position of the grave in the village enclosure is seen in Plate 55. Plate 90, of an _emone_ in the village of Voitele (community of Sivu) ill.u.s.trates the alternative plan of hanging the skull and bones up in the _emone_.

At the funeral all the women present, those of the village and of the whole community and the guests, join in singing the funeral song; but here again there is no actual procession, and the carrying of the body is not necessarily entrusted to any particular person. When the grave, whether on a platform or on a tree, is reached, all the men present begin to shout loudly, and there is a terrible noise. They all have their spears, but there is no brandishing of them. Then some men (anyone may do this) climb up to the box, and others hand the wrapped body up to them, and they place it lying on its back in the box. This ends the actual burial ceremony.

The black mourning face, and sometimes body-staining is then adopted by all the people of the community, and perhaps also by chiefs from other communities who have been friends of the dead chief. The special string necklace worn by the nearest relative and the other family emblems of mourning are the same as in the case of an ordinary person, except that the chiefs widow will probably also wear the special mourning network vest already described, and that the mourning sh.e.l.l necklace, which in the case of an ordinary man is only worn by distant relatives, is worn by all the married men and women of the clan who have or can procure it.

The subsequent ceremony and feast are in this case held one or two days after the funeral, the acceleration in the case of a chief being necessary in consequence of the retention of the corpse above ground and the foul smell which immediately begins to emanate from it. This feast is on a very large scale, though here again only one community is invited. The guests enter the village just as they do in the case of the death of an ordinary person; but they are all specially well decorated, and the one guest who comes in full dancing ornaments will certainly be a chief, or at least a chiefs son. The subsequent part of the ceremony, up to the removal of the head feather ornament from the dancer, is the same; but this removal is done by the nearest male relative of the deceased chief, who will probably be the person to whom the chieftainship has descended. Then follows the feast itself. The vegetables and village pigs for the feast are provided by the whole clan, and are in very large quant.i.ties. No platform of sticks is placed on the grave, the grave in this case not being underground; but the banana leaves are placed around (not under) the supports of the burial platform, or around the trunk of the burial tree. The pigs are killed upon these banana leaves by the pig-killer and his helpers, and the killed pigs are then placed in circles around the platform or tree, and are there cut up. The distribution of food and pig's flesh is made by the chiefs nearest male relative, with a.s.sistance, here again the special dancer getting the largest share, and the ceremony is then over, and the guests return to their villages.

And now a true desertion of the village by its inhabitants takes place, as indeed is necessary, as the putrefying body is becoming so offensive; and it will be at least two or three weeks before the emission of the smells is over. The villagers all go off into the bush, with the exception of two unhappy men, more or less close relatives of the dead chief, who have to remain in the village. Whilst there alone they are well ornamented, though not in their full dancing decoration, but in particular, though not themselves chiefs, they wear on their heads the ca.s.sowary feathers which are the distinctive decoration of a chief, and they carry their spears. There they remain amidst the awful stench of the decomposing body and all the mess and smell of the pigs' blood and garbage about the village. It is a curious fact that, in speaking of these two men, the natives do not speak of them as watching over the body of the chief, but as watching over the blood of the killed pigs.

When the stench is over, the villagers in the bush are informed, and they then return to the village. Then follow the killing and eating of wild pigs and sweeping down of the village, as in the case of the death of an ordinary person, but again on a much larger scale.

It will be noticed that, though the desertion of the village after a big feast lasts for six months, that which follows a chiefs funeral only lasts for a few weeks.

The removal of the mourning takes place after an interval which may be anything between one and six months. This is a special ceremony, and will not be postponed for the purpose of tacking it on to some other ceremony, as in the case of an ordinary person's mourning removal; but other ceremonies will often be tacked on to it. The guests invited are from only one other community. Here again the person actually dealt with is the chief mourner, and the removal of mourning from him or her terminates the mourning for everyone. The village pigs for this occasion are provided by the dead man's family, and not by the whole clan, as in the case of a chiefs funeral feast. There will probably be two or three of such pigs provided; but, as the ceremony is also available for various other ceremonies, there may be a considerable number of pigs killed. The dancing and pig-killing and feast are the same as those of an ordinary mourning-removal ceremony, but on a larger scale. The pig-killing in this case is done round the platform or tree on which the chief is buried. The buyer of the pig, who cuts off the mourning necklace and daubs the face of the chief mourner, if not a chief, will at all events be a person of importance; but the ceremonies relating to all these matters are identical with those already described. There is also the subsequent purification ceremony, at which wild pigs are killed and eaten as before.

The graves of chiefs' wives and members of their families, and other persons of special importance, are platform or tree graves, like those of chiefs, and the funeral ceremonies on the deaths of these people are very similar to those of chiefs, though they are on a scale which is smaller, in proportion to the relative smallness of the importance of the person to be buried; and they are subject to a few detailed differences, which the difference of the situation involves. The special magic ceremony for ascertaining if the patient is or is not going to die is not performed in the case of these people.

CHAPTER XVIII

Religion and Superst.i.tious Beliefs and Practices

Religion and Superst.i.tions.

These are subjects which I should hardly have ventured to introduce into this book if I had had to rely exclusively upon enquiries made only during my stay among the Mafulu villages, without having the benefit of five years' observation by the Mafulu Fathers of the Mission. And, notwithstanding this additional facility, my notes on these questions will be found to involve puzzles and apparent inconsistencies; and there is no part of the book which should be read and accepted with greater reserve and doubt as to possible misunderstanding. Subject to this caution, I give the information as I have obtained it.

I heard nothing to justify the idea of the Mafulu people having any belief in a universal G.o.d or All Father; but there is a general belief among them in a mysterious individual named _Tsidibe_, who may be a man, or may be a spirit (they appear to be vague as to this), who has immense power, and who once pa.s.sed through their country in a direction from east to west. Wherever you may be, if you speak of this personage, and ask to be told in which direction he travelled, they always point out one which is from east to west. They believe that it was _Tsidibe_ who taught them all their customs, including dancing and manufacture, and that he ultimately reached and remained in the land of the white man, where he is now living; and that the superior knowledge of the white man in manufacture, and especially in the making of clothes, has been acquired from him. The idea of his ultimate a.s.sociation with the white man can hardly, however, be a very ancient tradition. One of the Fathers was seriously asked by a native whether he had ever seen _Tsidibe_. They seem to think that he is essentially a beneficent being. They regret his having left their country; but they have no doubt as to this, and do not regard him as still continuing to exercise any influence over them and their affairs, have no ceremonies or observances with reference to him, and do not address to him any supplications. As traces of his pa.s.sage through their country they will show you extraordinarily shaped rocks and stones, such as fragments which have fallen from above into the valley, and rocks and stones which have lodged in strange positions. But there are no ceremonies with reference to these and the natives have no fear of them, and indeed they will proudly point them out to you as evidences of this mysterious being having been in their country, and of his power. They would not hesitate to touch one of these stones, but they would never injure it. I learnt nothing about him which would justify me in suggesting that the Mafulu people deified him as an ancestor, or even regarded him as being one, though some of the matters attributed to him are perhaps not dissimilar from those often attributed to deified ancestors. [108]

They certainly have a lively belief in ghosts of people who have lived and died, and in spirits which have never occupied human form, all of whom (ghosts and spirits) are evil disposed, and in sorcery.

Every human being, male and female, has during life a mysterious ghostly self, in addition to his bodily visible and conscious self; and this ghostly self will on his death survive him as a ghost. There appears to be no idea of this ghostly self leaving the body in times of sleeping or dreaming; though, if a man dreams of someone who is dead, he thinks that he has been visited by that person's ghost.

At death the ghost leaves the body, and becomes, and remains, a malevolent being. There is no idea of re-incarnation, or of the ghost pa.s.sing into any animal or plant, though, as will be seen hereafter, it sometimes apparently _becomes_ a plant; and there is no difference in their minds between the case of a person who has died naturally and one who has been killed in battle or otherwise, or between persons who have or have not been eaten, or who have or have not been buried, though in case of burial there are the methods of getting rid of the ghost; and there is no superst.i.tious avoidance of graves or fear of mentioning a deceased person by name, and no superst.i.tion as to the shadows of living persons pa.s.sing over graves and sacred places. Except as above stated, I found no trace of any belief in a future state.

When on the death of a man or woman or child, the ghostly self leaves the body, or at all events when the funeral pig-killing has been performed, the ghost goes away to the tops of the mountains, where apparently it exists as a ghost for ever. The shouting immediately after the death, and afterwards at the funeral, are steps towards driving it there; and the pig-killing ceremony completes the process. On reaching the mountains the ghost _becomes_ one of two things. The ghost of a young or grown-up person up to, say, forty or forty-five years of age becomes the shimmering light upon the ground and undergrowth, which occurs here and there where the dense forest of the mountains is penetrated by the sun's beams. It is apparently only the light which shimmers on the ground and undergrowth, and not that in the air. The ghost of an elderly person over forty or forty-five years of age becomes a large sort of fungus, which is indigenous to the mountains, where alone it is found. Any native who on a hunting expedition or otherwise meets with a glade in which this shimmering light occurs will carefully pa.s.s round it, instead of going across it; and any native finding one of these fungi will neither eat nor touch, nor even tread upon it; though indeed, as regards the eating, I understand that this particular fungus is one of the poisonous non-edible forms. A native who, after the recent death of another, is travelling in the mountains, and there finds a young fungus of this species only just starting into growth, will think that it is probably the ghost of the recently departed one.

As regards the use by me with reference to both sunbeams and fungi of the word "_becomes_" I recognise that it may justify much doubt and questioning. The idea of actually _becoming_ the flickering light or the fungus, as distinguished from that of entering into or haunting it, is a difficult one to grasp, especially as regards the flickering light. I tried to get to the bottom of this question when I was at Mafulu; but the belief as to actual _becoming_ was insisted upon, and I could get no further. I cannot doubt, however, that there is much room for further investigation on the point, which is of a character concerning which misapprehension may well arise, especially in dealing with such simple and primitive people as are the Mafulu natives.

The foods of these ghosts in both their forms are the ghostly elements of the usual native vegetable foods (sweet potato, yam, taro, banana, and in fact every vegetable food) and the ghostly elements of the excrement of the still living natives; and the ghosts come down from the mountains to the villages and gardens to procure these foods. Here again the difficulty as to meaning above referred to arises, as they can hardly imagine that the flickering lights cease to flicker in their mountain glades, or that the fungi cease to exist in their mountain habitats during these food-seeking incursions; and yet, unless this be so, the superst.i.tious difficulty is increased. A ghost is also sometimes for some reason or other dissatisfied with his mountain abode; and he will then return to the village (not apparently in the visible form of a flickering light or a fungus).

As the intentions of the ghost towards living humanity are always evil, his visits, whether for procuring food or in consequence of dissatisfaction with his habitat, are feared by the people; but I could not ascertain what was the nature of the injuries by the ghost to themselves of which they were afraid, nor could I hear of any actual instance of a disaster or misfortune which had been attributed to the machinations of such a ghost. When sleeping in their dark enclosed houses, however, the people fill up all openings by which the ghost might enter (this does not apply to the _emone_, the entrance openings of which are not closed at night; but perhaps the fact that a number of men are always sleeping together there gives them confidence); and when the Mission Station at Mafulu was started the natives were amazed at the missionaries daring to sleep alone in rooms with open doors and windows, through which the ghosts might enter.

Having by the shouting prior to and at the dead man's funeral wholly or partially driven his ghost to the mountains, and in some way, as it would seem, further placated or influenced the ghost by the subsequent pig-killing over or by his grave at the funeral feast, there is no method of which I could gain information by which the people can actually keep him there, or prevent his periodic returns to the village and gardens for food, or his return from a mountain home with which he is dissatisfied; and there are apparently no prayers, incantations or other ceremonies for the purpose of placating, or intimidating, or in any way influencing the ghost. This statement is subject, however, to the existence of the practice of pig-killing at the various other ceremonies before described (always apparently done under or by or on the site of a chiefs grave), which is evidently superst.i.tious in character, and must have reference to the ghosts of the departed chiefs and notables, being intended, or having originally been intended, to placate or influence them in some way or other; and especially it would seem that this must be so as regards the dipping of the mourner's string necklace in dead pigs' blood at the mourning-removal ceremony, and as regards the pig-killing at the big feast, at which the skulls and bones of all the then departed chiefs and notables are carefully collected, and made the objects of ceremonious dipping in blood, or touching with bones so dipped, and after which these skulls and bones may be thrown away, as not requiring further ceremony. And concerning all these ceremonies, if we bear in mind the special fear which many primitive people seem to have of the ghosts of their great men, as distinguished from those of the unimportant ones, it seems, I think, to be natural that the graves and the skulls and bones of the great ones should be those which are specially dealt with, and the dealing with which may possibly, so far as the big feasts are concerned, have been the original purpose for which the feasts were held.

The mental att.i.tude and conduct of the people towards ghosts may have originated in some form of ancestor worship, but I found nothing now existing to indicate this; and in particular I could learn nothing of any recognition of, or ceremonial observances with reference to, the individual ghosts of known persons, as distinguished from the ghosts generally.

I could find no direct information as to any belief in ghosts of animals or plants; but the fact that the living edible plants have a ghostly self, upon which the human ghosts feed, seems to involve the idea during the life of those plants; and in that case one sees no reason why the ghost of the plant should not survive the plant itself, just as the ghost of the living person survives him at his death. Also the existence of a ghostly element in human excrement opens out a wide field of ghostly possibilities.

Spirits which have never been human beings are also malevolent; though when we come to the operations of magic men or sorcerers, and to incantations and the use of charms, the powers in connection with all of which appear to be ascribed to spirits, it will be noticed that these are by no means necessarily and invariably engaged or used for malevolent purposes.

I was not able to obtain any satisfactory information as to these spirits, or their supposed attributes, nor, except as regards illness and death, as to the nature of, and ground for, the fears which the natives feel concerning them; indeed, this is a subject upon which most natives all over the world are inclined to be reticent, partly or largely from fear. Even as regards the sacred places which these spirits are supposed to haunt, though the natives are not unwilling to pa.s.s them, and will mention the fact that they are sacred, they are unwilling to talk about them. My notes as to spirits, other than those in connection with sorcery producing illness and death, must therefore be practically confined to the sacred places haunted by the spirits, and the demeanour and acts of the natives with reference to, and when they pa.s.s, these places.

Speaking generally, any place which has something specially peculiar or unusual in its appearance is likely to be regarded as the abode of a spirit. A waterfall, or a deep still pool in the course of a river (but not the river itself), or a deep narrow rocky river ravine, or a strangely shaped rock come under this category. There are also certain trees and creepers which are regarded as implying the presence of a spirit in their vicinity, although that vicinity has in itself nothing unusual. I can, however, only give a few ill.u.s.trative examples of this general idea.

There are three special trees and two or three special creepers which imply the presence of a spirit. What the creepers are I could not ascertain; but the trees are a very large palm which grows on the mountains and not on the coast, a form of pine tree, [109]

and the _gabi_ fig-tree, used for burial of chiefs. [110] It does not necessarily follow that every specimen of any one of these trees and creepers is spirit-haunted; but some are known to be so, and all are apparently so much under suspicion that, though the natives will speak of them and will pa.s.s them, they are afraid to cut them down.

At the time when the path near the newly erected Mission Station at Mafulu was being opened some of these creepers had to be cleared away, and the Mission Fathers had the utmost difficulty with the natives, only two or three of whom could be persuaded to help in the work, whilst the others stood aloof and afraid. In the same way, when the Fathers wanted to cut down some of the special palms, only two natives were induced to help in this, and even they only did so on the condition that the Fathers themselves made the first strokes; and the Fathers were warned by the natives that evil would befall them. It was a curious coincidence that the Father who did this tree-cutting, being then and having been for a long time past perfectly well in health, was that evening taken ill with a bad sore, which nearly necessitated his being carried down to the head Mission Station on the coast.

There is a very common ceremony performed when natives, in travelling through the country, pa.s.s a spirit-haunted spot. The leader of the party turns round, and in a low voice tells the others that they are approaching the spot, whereupon they all become silent, though up to that point they have been chattering. The leader then takes a wisp of gra.s.s and ties it in a knot, and all the others do the same. They then walk on in silence for a period, which may be anything from five to fifteen minutes, after which, as they pa.s.s the spot, the leader turns round and throws his bunch of gra.s.s on the ground, and the others do the same. In this way they avert the danger and afterwards chatter as before. [111] Another somewhat similar ceremony commences, like the former one, with silence; but, instead of throwing gra.s.s down as they pa.s.s the haunted spot, the visible sign of which in this case is a hole in the ground, the leader stops and looks round at the others, and then presses the palm of his hand down into the interior of the hole, and the others do the same; and after this all is safe and well, as in the former case. In travelling through the country these holes with numerous impressions of hands in them are to be seen; and you may in one day's journey pa.s.s several of these signs of haunted places, of either or both sorts, within a comparatively short distance of one another. The hole in which the people put their hands may not have originally existed, and may have been produced by the oft-repeated pressure of hands on the ground as natives pa.s.sed the haunted spot; but on this point I am unable to make any statement. Nor have I been able to ascertain what the difference, if any, is, or has been, between the places where they put gra.s.s and those in which they merely press the hands.

I found no evidence of any general idea of supernatural powers being possessed by natural inanimate objects, such as rivers or rocks; but, as already stated, fishers are in the habit of addressing the stream in supplication for fish, and it is possible there are other examples of the same sort of thing, which I did not discover.

Magic or sorcery, and those who practise it, and incantations and charms, and those who supply charms, are naturally a.s.sociated with either ghosts or spirits, or both. Among the Mafulu people they are, I was a.s.sured, a.s.sociated solely with spirits, and not with ghosts; and, though I have no confirmatory evidence of the accuracy of this statement, I can only in these notes a.s.sume that it is correct. It may well be, however, that in the minds of the people themselves the distinction between the ghost of a person who has lived and died and the spirit which has never lived in visible human form is not really quite clearly defined; or that powers which are now regarded by them as spirits have had an origin, possibly long ago, in what were then believed to be ghosts. I shall revert to this point at a later stage.

Sorcery.

The Mafulu magic men or sorcerers are different from those of the Mekeo plains. There is not among the Mafulu, as there is in Mekeo, a large body of powerful professional sorcerers, who are a source of constant terror to the other people of their own villages, and are yet to a certain extent relied upon and desired by those people as a counterpoise to the powers of sorcerers of other villages; and a Mafulu native, unless prevented by a fear of outside hostility in no way connected with the supernatural, will travel alone outside his own community in a way in which fear of the sorcerers would make a Mekeo native unwilling to do so. The Mafulu sorcerers are a somewhat less powerful people; but they claim, and are supposed to have, certain powers of divination, or actual causation, or both, of certain things. So far as I could learn, the sorcerer's supernatural powers would never be exercised in a hostile way against anyone of his own village, or indeed of his own clan, or even, as a rule, of his own community. Apparently the sorcerer's victim is nearly always a member of some other community; and the sorcerers of a community do not appear to be in any way either feared or shunned by the members of that community. And, even as regards their acts of hostility against members of other communities, these do not seem to be performed to an extent in any way approaching what is found in Mekeo.

It seemed to me at first, as regards these sorcerers, that there was a confusion in the Mafulu mind between divination and causation. The question as to this arose specially in connection with the ceremony for ascertaining whether a chief was or was not going to die. The people of a clan and the ailing chief certainly a.s.sume that the sorcerers who perform the ceremony under instructions, whether they be of the same community or of some other community, will by their magical powers merely divine the death or recovery of the chief; and the idea does not enter their heads that these sorcerers may actually cause the death. And yet they will accuse a hostile sorcerer of causing the death by an exactly similar ceremony, and will go to war over the matter. Probably, however, it is rather a question of the sorcerer's a.s.sumed volition--that is, it is a.s.sumed that the friendly sorcerer does not want the chief to die, and the people rely upon him to confine himself to a divination ceremony, and not to engage in hostile sorcery; whereas a hostile sorcerer might do the latter. I may add that I was led to suspect that the burning test was regarded as being only a matter of divination, and that the causation, if it occurred, was effected by means of the previous incantation.