Head-hunting and associated Customs—“Mother-right” and Age-grade Systems—Property Rights—Sex Relations.
The social organization of the Formosan aborigines presents many points of interest, but the four which most forcibly impress the visitor or student of aboriginal customs, and which, taken together, constitute a somewhat unique system, are the following:
(a)
Head-hunting and the point of view of the tribes-people regarding this custom.
(b)
“Mother-right” more fully developed than is usual, even among primitive people, at the present time.
(c)
The Communal System—that of holding property in common—which exists among several of the tribes.
(d)
The Chastity and Strict Monogamy customary among these “Naturv?lker”; habits which strikingly impress one who goes among them after having spent some time in China or Japan, or in the Chinese and Japanese towns and villages in the “civilized” part of the island.
[110]
One, or more, of these customs naturally exists among primitive peoples in various parts of the world; it is the combination of these, welded into a well-defined social organization, that makes the latter unique.
That “head-hunting” should be included under the head of “social organization” may seem perhaps a contradiction in terms—head-hunting not being exactly a social custom. I think, however, that anyone who has lived among a head-hunting tribe will realize how closely this custom is interwoven with the fabric of their whole social organization. It regulates the social and political standing of the men of the tribe; it is directly connected with marriage—no head, no wife; and is reflected in the games, the songs, and the dances of the people. Moreover head-hunting is regulated by a code as rigid as the code of “an officer and a gentleman” in so-called civilized society—and is rather less frequently broken.
Deniker, in speaking of the Dyaks of Borneo (see The Races of Man, p. 251), aptly remarks: “A number of acts regarded as culpable by the codes of all civilized states are yet tolerated, and even extolled, in certain particular circumstances; such as the taking of life, for example, in legitimate defence, in a duel, during war, or as a capital punishment. Thus, in recalling examples of this kind, we shall be less severe on a Dyak who cuts off a man’s head solely that he may carry this[111] trophy to his bride; for if he did otherwise he would be repulsed by all.” The same charity for which Deniker pleads in judgment of the Dyak may well be extended to the Formosan aborigine, who never thus seeks private vengeance, whatever his provocation, on one of his fellow-tribesmen,[55] private disputes being always laid before the chief—male or female—of the tribe or before the chief-priestess, or a convocation of the elderly women of the tribal group. Also when a Formosan has voluntarily given his word to refrain from head-hunting, it is said—and my personal observation would tend to confirm this—that he never breaks it.[56]
The tribes among whom head-hunting still exists are the Taiyal, the Bunun, and the Paiwan, though among the Bunun and the Paiwan to a lesser extent at the present time than among the Taiyal. Among all the other Chin-huan tribes it existed within the memory of the older generation still living.
Among the Taiyal tribe—the great tribe of the northern part of the island—one can tell at a glance who has “a head to his credit,” by the presence, or absence, of the tattoo-mark on the chin. Occasionally one sees the insignia of the successful head-hunter tattooed on the chin of[112] young boys. This indicates that these boys are the sons of famous head-hunters and that their hands have been laid upon heads decapitated by their fathers; or that they have carried these heads in net-bags upon their backs. This, by tribal code, entitles them to the successful head-hunter’s tattoo-mark. Incidentally, it must be understood that while the Taiyal are—largely because of their peculiar form of tattooing—usually regarded as a single tribe, they do not so regard themselves, but are composed of a number of sub-groups (it is said twenty-six), who regard themselves as separate units; and who consequently go on head-hunting expeditions against each other.
When a boy attains maturity he is supposed to celebrate this by going on his first head-hunting expedition.[57] Usually several boys of about the same age go together on their first expedition, accompanied by older and more experienced warriors of the same group, or sub-tribe. Before going on such an expedition an omen is always consulted—usually a bird-omen, of which I shall speak more fully under the head of Religion—and it depends upon the favourable or unfavourable indication of the omen as to whether the expedition is undertaken forthwith or is postponed. The Taiyal consider it more auspicious to set forth on such an expedition with an odd number of men. They seem to think the chances will be[113] greater of securing a head, which will count as a man, and thus make up the “lucky even number” with which they hope to return to the village.
During the absence of the warriors on one of these expeditions, the women of the group will abstain from weaving, or even from handling the material—a sort of coarse native hemp—which customarily they weave into clothing. Except for the studious tending of the fires in their respective huts—for if these were allowed to go out, it would be considered a most evil omen—they do little until they hear in the distance the cries which herald the return of the warriors. Then, depending upon whether the cries denote victory or defeat, the women prepare either for a festival or for a time of lamentation.
If the warriors have been successful—that is, if they have returned with one or more heads of slain enemies—a great feast is prepared, and partaken of by the men and women together. In this respect Formosan feasts differ from the victorious warrior-feasts of many other primitive communities, at which only the men are the revellers. This difference also distinguishes the dance that follows the feast, in which both men and women participate, the Formosan aborigines forming an exception to the rule laid down by Deniker that Malay men do not dance. As in feasting and dancing, so do the women also take part in the drinking of wine—made by themselves from millet—and in the smoking of tobacco. Among the[114] Taiyal, as among most of the other tribes, both men and women smoke bamboo pipes—more of the size and shape of those smoked by Europeans than are the tiny pipes smoked by the Chinese and Japanese. These are, however, for some reason which they could not, or would not, explain, often held upside-down while being smoked, the tobacco being very tightly “jammed” into the bowl to prevent its falling out.
Among the coast Ami, only the men smoke pipes, the bowls of which are often decorated with bits of metal—bartered from the Chinese—in imitation of the features of a human face. The women of this tribe smoke huge cigars.
How tobacco was introduced into Formosa, where now it grows practically wild—the leaves being gathered by the women—is a mystery. Probably, however, it was first brought to the island by the Dutch; and, once having been planted in a soil favouring its growth, it continued to flourish and to spread, in spite of what in Europe and in America would be called lack of cultivation. Now smoking is universal among all the tribes of the main island of Formosa. Among the Yami alone—of Botel Tobago—it is, up to the present time, unknown; as is also, apparently, the drinking of any intoxicating liquor. Another thing that differentiates these gentle people from their neighbours of the main island, just to the north of them, is the fact that none of them are head-hunters.
TAIYAL TRIBESPEOPLE.
SKULL-SHELF IN A TAIYAL VILLAGE.
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To return for a moment to the present chief head-hunting tribe, the Taiyal. At the time of feasting and dancing in celebration of a victory, the head of the victim is placed on the “skull-shelf” of the village—being often the last addition to a pile of others—and food and millet-wine are placed in front of it, food being sometimes inserted into its mouth. The chief (often a woman), or high-priestess, of the village offers to the last-decapitated head an invitation to the following effect: “O warrior, you are welcome to our village and to our feast! Eat and drink, and ask your brothers to come and join you, and to eat and drink with us also.”
This invocation is supposed to have a magical effect in bringing about other victories, and thus adding more heads to the skull-shelf (see illustration).
The knives with which the heads of enemies have been cut off are held in great reverence by all the tribes. Among one tribe—the Paiwan—it is believed that the spirits of ancestors dwell in certain knives, which have been in the possession of the tribe for several generations.
Among the Paiwan, and also the Bunun, the successful warrior is denoted, not as among the Taiyal by certain tattoo-marking, but by the wearing of a certain kind of cap which is made by the women of the tribe. The Paiwan, whose domain formerly extended all the way to Cape Garanbi, had—and have still in certain[116] quarters—the reputation of being cannibals, as well as head-hunters. A statement to this effect is made in the Encyclop?dia Britannica (see article under the head of “Formosa”). This, however, I believe to be a mistake; as did also George Taylor, for many years light-house keeper at South Cape (Garanbi), under the Chinese regime; one who probably knew the aborigines more intimately than any white man since the time of the Dutch occupation. The superficial observer, seeing a pile of skulls in a native village—often several skulls over, or at the side of, the doorway of a chief’s house[58]—is apt hastily to assume that the villagers must necessarily be cannibals. But, while head-hunters certainly, I do not believe that the Formosan aborigines are, or ever have been, cannibals.
Among the Paiwan a tradition exists that in “days of old,” when their territory extended to the sea-coast, “great boats” often came near their coast, from which men landed; and that these men were in the habit of capturing and carrying away numbers of the Paiwan people. Whether these “great boats” were Chinese junks or Spanish ships from the Philippines, I do not know. At any rate, among the Paiwan, the killing of strangers—except those with fair hair and blue eyes (which would indicate that the kidnapping invaders of the past were not Dutch)—is alleged to be an act[117] of self-defence, to prevent their being carried away, “as their fathers were.” On what foundation of truth—if any—this tradition is built, I do not know.
In this connection also the Paiwan claim that once, in those olden days, when strangers were landing from one of the large ships, they themselves (the Paiwan) took refuge in a “secret place among the hills,” but they were betrayed by the crowing of a cock, which revealed their hiding-place to the strangers, who killed many of them and carried others away by force to their ship. This they give as their reason for never eating chicken.
But as a neighbouring tribe, the Ami, also never eat chicken, and assign for their abstention an entirely different reason—viz. that “souls of good and gentle people dwell in chickens”—it is not possible to give too great credence to Paiwan tradition, or to their own explanation of their custom; this being one of the many instances where various “reasons” are given by a primitive people in attempted explanation of a long-established custom.
In passing, it may be mentioned that it is only among the coast tribes, such as Paiwan, Piyuma, and Ami, that the raising of chickens, for the sake of their eggs, has been introduced—apparently by the Chinese.
Among the Paiwan, as among the other aboriginal tribes, including the Taiyal of the[118] north, there exists the custom of two great festivals during the year, one at seed-time, the other at harvest-time. During these twice-yearly festivals there is much feasting, much dancing, and, unfortunately, much drinking of millet wine. That which distinguishes the Paiwan festivities, however, from those of the other tribes is that once every five years on these festive days the Paiwan play a game called Mavayaiya. This game consists of a contest between several warriors, each trying to impale on a bamboo lance a bundle—now made of bark—which is tossed into the air, the one who catches it on the point of his lance being considered the victor. Tradition among them asserts that in olden days it was a human head—that of a slain enemy—which was thus tossed about, a mere bundle of bark being considered a poor substitute. But Japanese laws against head-hunting are strict, for Japanese themselves have suffered from these expeditions—punitive usually—and knives, even sacred ones, are no match against modern rifles, or against bombs thrown from aeroplanes.
Similarly with the neighbouring tribe—now a small one—that of the Piyuma. On a festival day, held annually, a monkey—one of those with which the woods of Formosa are filled—is tied before the bachelor dormitory, and killed by the young men with arrows. After it is killed the village chief throws a little native wine three times towards the sky, and three times on the ground, near the body[119] of the dead monkey. Singing, dancing, and feasting follow. The old people of the Piyuma tribe explain that in the “good days of old,” when their tribe was a large and powerful one, a prisoner, captured from some other tribe, was always sacrificed on these festal occasions, but now they—like the Paiwan, with their Mavayaiya—have to be satisfied with an inferior substitute. It seems that one of the reasons why a monkey is considered so particularly inferior a substitute for a man is t............