The hairdresser plaits long strands5 of raffia into the kinky wool of the Kia Kias
The shiny inner surface of a Malay tobacco-box serves them as a mirror
117By writing all their words down phonetically6 and setting the meaning beside them, we are able to study the language, which is a surprisingly simple one. They have no writing and their means of counting is limited to the ten digits7. All reckoning is done upon the fingers and when they run out of fingers they are hard put to it to continue. However, if the reckoning runs up to, say, thirty or forty, they count one another’s fingers and remember the names of those individuals included in the calculation. The task of remembering more than four participant pairs of hands would be beyond the power of their intellects.
At Merauke we heard of the death, under mysterious conditions, of a Swiss scientist who came to study these people about three years ago. With the memory of this incident fresh in our minds, we inquire casually8 concerning the white man reputed to have been eaten by them, but are met with blank looks or glances of suspicion. Between ourselves, we decide that if it is humanly possible to do so we will find the remains9 of the unfortunate man, a martyr10 to scientific progress, and send his bones to his institution in Switzerland. The demeanor of the natives makes us sure that they have guilty knowledge of his death, at least.
118Pursuing the matter further, and after having won the confidence of one of the middle-aged11 men—whom, by the way, we have christened “Intelligence”—we secure an admission that the man died in this very locality, though by what means Intelligence will not divulge12. After a good deal of discussion, and deep cogitation13 on his part, Intelligence agrees to bring all the older men of the kampong to a conference in the afternoon, to discuss ways and means of finding the desired bones, which he says he thinks were buried somewhere in the jungle. He is very reticent14, for he says the Tuan at Merauke sent soldiers to find the white man and killed many men when he found that the white man was dead. The only thing that moves Intelligence to admit as much as he does is our story of how the man’s friends at home mourned his loss and how greatly they desire to have his bones to inter4 properly, according to the customs of their tribe.
Intelligence leaves us, his head bowed in thought. The situation is a grave one and our story of the great mourning caused by the poor 119scientist’s death, coming so shortly after the death of a member of the tribe, sits heavily upon him. With all their savage15 characteristics, these primitive16 men seem to have within them the milk of human kindness. They are creatures of impulse.
While they are debating the thing among themselves, we go for a short excursion in the environs of the camp. In the course of conversations with Intelligence we have learned that in this neighborhood a Jesuit missionary17 formerly18 held forth19, but that he, also, died, about the same time that the Swiss lost his life. This is interesting, and we are reminded that these people who have been so very cordial to us are really eaters of men and will bear watching. Our attitude toward them is one of firm superiority tempered with kindliness20, but we are ever watchful21 for any signs of treachery. As long as the tobacco holds out our relations with them probably will be amicable22 enough. There is no danger of their trying to take it by force when it is given them gratis23 daily, and of course they 120do not know that our supply is not inexhaustible.
As we stroll along a scarcely discernible path that threads the jungle the mosquitos begin their accustomed attack, and we are thankful to reach a tiny clearing on which the creepers and obliterating24 growths of the primeval jungle are fast encroaching. When we finally get clear of the thicket25 and round a large clump26 of young cocoas, there appears to our astonished eyes a neat palm-thatched structure surmounted27 with a cross. This, then, is the former missionary’s little church, in which he gave up his life while trying to bring the light to these benighted28 people. For his pains he was eaten.
The door of the little building is closed, though not latched29, and the windows are all tightly shut. We go inside and with eyes straining in the darkness try to make out the details of the interior. Everything is just as the poor man left it. Nothing has been touched. The soldiers who came to the place to avenge30 both 121his death and that of the scientist ordered that the natives whom they spared keep away from the place upon pain of another raid, and the black men have declared the place taboo31. The church is tenanted now by countless32 bats, whose noisome33 bodies render the air fetid with their odor and whose wings almost touch us as they wheel to and fro, roused from their slumber34 by the opening of the door. Their squeaking35 remonstrance36 at being thus disturbed makes the place eery,—like some abode37 of evil spirits of the nether38 world,—and we beat a hasty retreat to the sunlight of the clearing outside.
We sit down to rest a moment on a fallen trunk a few yards from the church and try to imagine the emotions of the man who, with total sacrifice of self, came alone to these people to do them only good according to his lights, and who in turn suffered the extreme penalty at their ungrateful hands. What his last thoughts on earth must have been and what he said are part of our conjectures39. We find ourselves wondering if he 122was strong enough to say with his last expiring breath, “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.”
Mixed with our anger at the Kia Kias as we gaze upon the mute witness to their murderous proclivities40, however, there comes pity for their ignorance, and we tell ourselves that their crime was due to savage ignorance and a natural hunting-instinct for the animal food their bodies crave41. Man-eating is their custom, and this is their country, and it is reasonable to expect that some lives must be sacrificed before they can be shown the error of their way,—error in our eyes, but not in theirs to whom the land belongs. We whites have become so accustomed to taking that which we desire from those not gifted with the power for sheer conquest which our cultural progression has produced and which gives us our feeling of superiority to others, that, filled with self-importance, we must needs seek lands afar belonging to others, farm them regardless of the owners’ remonstrances42, and then add insult to injury by punishing these owners for continuing 123in their age-old practices. There are two sides to the question. True, there is no doubt that our civilization is the better,—for us. They have not found it so for them. Laurence Hope has said the Creator, after molding One, sublimely43 perfect, “doubtless in some idle moment mixed the forces that fashioned me.”
Our kodaks perpetuate44 the little church for us and we leave it with no regret, for it does not engender45 the most pleasant of thoughts. When we return to camp, we find that our intermediary, Intelligence, has arranged for the conference earlier than was expected, and that the others are ready to gather at our pleasure. There is no time like the present, so we tell him to summon his clan46 that we may start the powwow.
We place our chairs under the shade of the fly at the rear of our tent and soon the older men begin to drift toward us. They seat themselves in a semicircle facing us and at a distance of ten or fifteen feet. When all are seated, Intelligence begins a long harangue,—a torrent47 of 124words which fall from his lips so fast that they are wholly unintelligible48 to us. His discourse49 is received coldly by some of his fellows, but one or two—those who have seemed most friendly to us—take kindly50 to our plan, judging from the expression on their faces.
A hot debate ensues. After several hours of earnest palaver51 in which we take no part, Intelligence turns to us and signifies that he would like us to speak on the subject. This we do, assuring them that the Dutch Government has no part in our plan, and that if they will deliver the bones of the Swiss to us we will guarantee that no punishment whatever shall befall the members of the community. We draw as vivid a picture of the scientist’s grieving relatives as is possible with our limited vocabulary, and at length prevail upon the savage assembly to promise to bring the poor man’s bones to camp upon the morrow.
The deserted52 Jesuit mission which formerly was the pride and hope of its unfortunate builder
In the early evening the women sit around on the copra-drying platforms and watch the sunset
125Our apparent victory, has not, however, been achieved without the exchange of some very black looks among several of the Kia Kias. There are still a few who remain firm in their belief that this is some trick of the white man’s to make them incriminate themselves. Upon the decision of the majority to hand over the remains to the white men, the meeting breaks up and all but Intelligence leave for their respective quarters. He lingers to tell us that he, himself, will bring the bones in to-morrow afternoon. So grateful are we that we present him with a shiny trade hatchet53 and an American trench54 mirror. He departs with many thanks.
The request we have made has caused a stir in the kampong and the accustomed afternoon meeting in the shade of the grove55 back of the village does not take place. A few of the younger people gather there for their usual enjoyment56 of one another’s society, but the elders are all grouped about their doorways57, earnestly discussing something. Now and then speculative58 glances in our direction tell us that we are the chief topic of conversation. Moh is distinctly uneasy.
In the very outer fringe of the grove, and 126directly back of our tent, there is a little knot of young men and women who are apparently59 very much interested in something which is screened from our view by the intervening bodies of the watchers. We do not wish to miss anything unusual, so we hasten over to see what is taking place. From the extreme absorption of the onlookers60 and the absence of the laughter and gaiety which usually attend these gatherings61 we know that something of moment is under way.
An amazing sight greets our eyes. Lying at full length upon the ground is a young woman of perhaps eighteen years, undergoing what must be the most exquisite62 torture. Ah, what woman will not endure to be in fashion! At work upon her quivering body is an ancient crone, who with a sharpened piece of shell is cutting deep cicatrices in the flesh of the abdomen63. The girl undergoing the operation is bearing with stoic64 courage the pain it must cost her, though her face twists and her muscles contract in a spasmodic tremor65 each time the old woman gashes66 her. The artist is cutting a scar pattern, which 127is the highest type of personal adornment67 these people know. The cuts are made diagonally underneath68 the skin and to a depth of a full quarter of an inch, so that as each is made there is a flap of skin turned up which varies from a thin edge to a thickness equal to the full depth of the cut.
The poor girl looks as if she regrets having asked that the thing be done, but, having started, is afraid of ridicule69 unless she goes through with it. The others gaze upon her with varying expressions. Some of the very young girls are palpably envious70, while those whose bodies are similarly adorned71 are commiserating72 in demeanor; they know the pain the girl is suffering. The men look on with indifference73, though they offer suggestions now and then as to how to enhance the beauty of the design. As each cut is made, a handful of dirt is scooped74 up from the ground and rubbed well into the wound, care being taken to fill the cut to its fullest depth.
Eight cuts have been made when the girl decides that she can stand no more at the present 128and the old woman desists after carefully patting the edges of the wounds and applying broad, fresh green leaves to them as a dressing75. These are held in place by thongs76 of kangaroo hide bound around the body. The purpose of the dirt rubbed into the wounds is to make them fester and thereby77 raise the great wales that are so admired by the Kia Kias.
As the girl rises stiffly to her feet, the men present look at us with approbative78 grins and nod their satisfaction. The decoration of this particular girl promises well, for the old woman who has been doing the work is acknowledged to be an artist at it, and one of the girls whose scars have long since healed displays those upon her body, calling to our attention proofs of the fine technique. She obligingly poses for our cameras and in return for her kindness we present her with an extra allowance of tobacco.
They are very proud of the scar-patterns
The weals caused by the infection of the cuts sometimes stand out nearly an inch from the surrounding flesh
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1
demeanor
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| n.行为；风度 | |
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converse
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| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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inter
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| v.埋葬 | |
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strands
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| n.（线、绳、金属线、毛发等的）股( strand的名词复数 )；缕；海洋、湖或河的)岸；（观点、计划、故事等的）部份v.使滞留，使搁浅( strand的第三人称单数 ) | |
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phonetically
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| 按照发音地，语音学上 | |
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7
digits
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| n.数字( digit的名词复数 )；手指，足趾 | |
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casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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martyr
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| n.烈士，殉难者；vt.杀害，折磨，牺牲 | |
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middle-aged
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| adj.中年的 | |
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divulge
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| v.泄漏(秘密等)；宣布，公布 | |
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cogitation
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| n.仔细思考，计划，设计 | |
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reticent
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| adj.沉默寡言的；言不如意的 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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missionary
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| adj.教会的，传教(士)的；n.传教士 | |
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formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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20
kindliness
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| n.厚道，亲切，友好的行为 | |
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watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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amicable
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| adj.和平的，友好的；友善的 | |
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gratis
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| adj.免费的 | |
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24
obliterating
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| v.除去( obliterate的现在分词 )；涂去；擦掉；彻底破坏或毁灭 | |
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thicket
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| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
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clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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27
surmounted
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| 战胜( surmount的过去式和过去分词 )； 克服（困难）； 居于…之上； 在…顶上 | |
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benighted
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| adj.蒙昧的 | |
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latched
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| v.理解( latch的过去式和过去分词 )；纠缠；用碰锁锁上（门等）；附着（在某物上） | |
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30
avenge
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| v.为...复仇，为...报仇 | |
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31
taboo
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| n.禁忌，禁止接近，禁止使用；adj.禁忌的；v.禁忌，禁制，禁止 | |
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32
countless
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| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
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noisome
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| adj.有害的，可厌的 | |
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slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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35
squeaking
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| v.短促地尖叫( squeak的现在分词 )；吱吱叫；告密；充当告密者 | |
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36
remonstrance
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| n抗议，抱怨 | |
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abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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nether
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| adj.下部的，下面的；n.阴间；下层社会 | |
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conjectures
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| 推测，猜想( conjecture的名词复数 ) | |
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40
proclivities
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| n.倾向，癖性( proclivity的名词复数 ) | |
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41
crave
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| vt.渴望得到，迫切需要，恳求，请求 | |
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42
remonstrances
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| n.抱怨，抗议( remonstrance的名词复数 ) | |
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43
sublimely
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| 高尚地，卓越地 | |
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44
perpetuate
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| v.使永存，使永记不忘 | |
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45
engender
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| v.产生，引起 | |
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46
clan
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| n.氏族，部落，宗族，家族，宗派 | |
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47
torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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48
unintelligible
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| adj.无法了解的，难解的，莫明其妙的 | |
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49
discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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50
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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51
palaver
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| adj.壮丽堂皇的；n.废话，空话 | |
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52
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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53
hatchet
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| n.短柄小斧；v.扼杀 | |
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54
trench
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| n./v.(挖)沟，(挖)战壕 | |
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55
grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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56
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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57
doorways
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| n.门口，门道( doorway的名词复数 ) | |
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58
speculative
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| adj.思索性的，暝想性的，推理的 | |
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59
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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60
onlookers
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| n.旁观者，观看者( onlooker的名词复数 ) | |
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61
gatherings
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| 聚集( gathering的名词复数 )； 收集； 采集； 搜集 | |
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62
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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63
abdomen
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| n.腹，下腹(胸部到腿部的部分) | |
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stoic
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| n.坚忍克己之人，禁欲主义者 | |
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65
tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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66
gashes
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| n.深长的切口（或伤口）( gash的名词复数 )v.划伤，割破( gash的第三人称单数 ) | |
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67
adornment
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| n.装饰；装饰品 | |
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68
underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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ridicule
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| v.讥讽，挖苦；n.嘲弄 | |
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envious
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| adj.嫉妒的，羡慕的 | |
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71
adorned
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| [计]被修饰的 | |
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commiserating
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| v.怜悯，同情( commiserate的现在分词 ) | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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74
scooped
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| v.抢先报道( scoop的过去式和过去分词 )；（敏捷地）抱起；抢先获得；用铲[勺]等挖（洞等） | |
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75
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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thongs
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| 的东西 | |
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thereby
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| adv.因此，从而 | |
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approbative
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| 批准的，认可的；赞许的，表示满意的 | |
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