The Spirit of a Great Chief

Passes On

TX)R many weeks old Chief Banice had -T been ill. His villagers waited for him to breathe his last—they would be able to work their gardens again, but while he lay ill nothing could be done.

So sure were they of his impending death that they set to and built a great, long house wherein to lay his coffin.

Just as though arranged, old Banice died —three days after the house was completed. Amid much wailing, the old men of the village broke up one of the late Chief’s chunuhais (canoes) and out of it constructed a coffin. At sundown they laid Banice in his coffin, arrayed in all his brightest clothes. Baskets of taro (native potato) were placed in the coffin with him in case he should be hungry on his way. After the sun had set the old men carried the coffin bearing the last of Banice —their most respected Chief and medicine man—to rest for a fortnight in the house they had built.

All the kukubeis (girls) about the age of 16 in the village of Cheerihoo (which is situated on Buka Island in the Nor thern Solomons) and the other nearby villages were gathered together and put into the Luma pun (Big house). There they were to remain for a fortnight to mourn over the Chief, who had left an only daughter, Inum, a kukubei of 16.

Since she must mourn over her father, the other kukubeis were compelled to keep her company. They were not to put a foot outside the Luma until the fort night was up, was the strict command of the old men. So for a fortnight the

young girls mourned over their late Chief.

Each night at sundown food was brought to Inum and her little band, and always a basket of taro for the old Chief, which they would burn alongside his coffin.

All the material used in the construc tion of the house was considered most sacred. Many months later, when the village of Cheerihoo was left desolate but for the “big house,” the next Chief was approached by a trader, who asked him to sell some of the material. Old Tatsin was most indignant that such a request should be made when the house was so sacred. “No,” he said, “the spirit of Banice is in that house, so there the building must remain until it falls to the ground—until then, the Chief’s spirit watches over it.”

The day approached at last, when the kukubeis were allowed out after mourn ing for a fortnight. The old merf came and canned away the coffin to the mut mut (cemetery) of olden times. No one had been buried there since the time when the kanakas of Cheerihoo had fought the Yepipis—natives from a village on Nor thern Bougainville. There they laid the remains of Banice. Each day at sun down Inum visited the grave, to sit for hours waiting for the spirits to send her some message.

After four moons had risen and died again Inum, who had long before this given up visiting the mut-mut, had a dream. “E more!” she said (“No, it was not a dream”).

“A matu e lam tera Luma tagolier, e bong, na e masaka go lier, ‘Banice e bess, baku nen e kumitez na gnie en a ruoi te horpu na baku nen,’ ” she cried. (“The spirits visited my house last night and spoke to me saying, ‘Banice is hun gry and his head is paining; he wants his pillow to rest his head on.’ ”) So Inum told the old men, and they were up and doing early. All the women of the village began to cook pigs and taro, and by sunset all was ready. The villagers of Cheerihoo assembled at the mut-mut and the old men set up a small hut over the grave, all covered with coloured cloth. They laid all the Chief’s belongings on the grave—his bows and arrows, his valuable tamboo (native money made out of porpoise teeth), and many little bundles of dried leaves, the

magic charms of the medicine man. Most precious were these charms, and they must go with the Chief on his long jour ney. Then last came Inum, with her father’s pillow—a carved piece of wood This she placed on the head of the grave, at the same time putting baskets of taro alongside it, and at the foot they laid pigs, roasted whole.

Much wailing took place, and then Tatsin set fire to the calico hut, and all the belongings, whilst the natives stood around watching the last of Banice’s possessions going to him. Inum called to the spirits, asking if anything else was wanted and no answer came. All was well —her father wanted for nothing; he would have his pillow on which to rest his head on his long journey. And so Banice passed away into the Great Beyond.

A.G.E.