Part 6

“I’m not particularly anxious to renew the acquaintance myself,” I replied, “but how do you account for the lifting of my latch?”

“Well, I can’t say for certain, sir, but, if my memory serves me, there was a gaffer living in your cottage--he’s dead now many a year--who used to work at the White House and was there when the murder happened. He saw her pretty often in his garden, I’m told, but couldn’t be got to speak of it. It may be she walks there too.”

I spent a very mixed kind of night at the inn, and on the following day returned to Fambridge and less ghostly company. From here I made arrangements for a change of quarters, and from that day to this I have not set eyes upon Canewdon, nor have I any inclination to do so.

This strange happening is perhaps too strange for everybody’s belief. My “spirituous” state at the time is an opinion largely held by chaffing friends; but I ask that three points be taken into consideration. I am practically a teetotaller; my imagination is no more abnormal than that of most of my fellows; and, lastly, no whisper of ghostly visitations in the village had reached my ears prior to the narrative as told by the landlady.

The whole affair would make an interesting little piece of investigation for the Psychical Research Society.

BY E. WAY ELKINGTON, F.R.G.S.

Savages, big and little, play games like other folk, and some of their methods of amusing themselves are very curious indeed. Mr. Elkington has made a collection of the least-known and most peculiar pastimes, and here describes and illustrates them.

Throughout the world there is a peculiar similarity in the games of the human race, and undoubtedly they all spring from the same sources, being the result of imitation, by children, of the duties and pleasures of the elder generation. In the savage races, however, we find them in their most primitive and interesting state, and in this article I propose to describe a few of the least known and most peculiar--some which I have myself witnessed, and others that I have collected from well-known travellers.

As with ourselves, it is not only the children who play, and the pastimes of their grown-up brothers are equally interesting. Naturally the games of the elders require more skill, and in some cases considerably more endurance and fortitude. For instance, the whip game, played by the red-men of British Guiana, is one that calls forth the most enduring qualities of these sturdy natives, and is an ordeal in which few Englishmen would care to take part. The origin of it is not known; some say that it was originally an act in a burial scene, but more probably it is a festival game.

For all functions in Guiana a copious supply of drink is prepared, the local name of which is “paiwarie.” This is a native-made fermented liquor, which has the desired effect, in its preliminary stages, of putting the drinkers into a good humour. After a certain quantity of “paiwarie” has been handed round, the players of the whip game, men and boys, line up in two rows facing one another; each is provided with a whip ornamented with fibre tassels, those of the two end players having whistles attached. When all is ready a gentle stamping is commenced, which gradually grows louder and louder till the earth begins to throb and the players show signs of getting worked up. Then shouts of “Yau, au!” are heard, and the now excited players wave their whips and sway gently backwards and forwards as they stamp their feet. Presently the two end men with the whistles attached to their whips pass down the centre of the row, whilst those lined up move slowly in an opposite direction. Now the stamping increases and the whistlers whistle at each other in wild excitement. Then they begin waving their whips at one other, feigning to strike with tremendous force, but finally they come down on their opponents’ calves with only a mere touch. After this has gone on for some time the two leaders run back to their original places at the head of the row, and others go out and do as they have done.

When all the players have gone through this exhibition the real business begins; so far it has only been play.

The women now come on to the scene bearing calabashes of wine, which is greedily swallowed, and then two of the players challenge each other to a real whipping competition.

Silence soon prevails, and the onlookers take up their places ready to watch this extraordinary ordeal.

As soon as the challenge has been accepted the two men step out in front of the audience and stand facing each other. As a rule they are splendidly-built fellows, and as they wear practically no clothing for this ceremony, their physical development is very noticeable.

Cautiously they judge their distance, letting the lash of the whip just touch their adversary’s calf. When they have thoroughly satisfied themselves that they can get a perfect swing, one of them stands firmly, half turned away from the other, who immediately swings his whip with tremendous force and brings it down on his opponent’s calf with a crack like the report of a gun.

The man who has received this blow, though it has in all probability cut right into his calf, does not flinch, but joins the whipper in a wild sort of dance, accompanied by loud shouts of “Yau, au!” Again the same man presents his calf to be cut at, again the lash descends, and more dancing follows, until it is time for the other man to go through the same ordeal. When he has had his share the two adjourn to the hut and indulge freely in “paiwarie,” and other players take their places, until all the grown-ups have tasted of the delights of the game. The younger fry then step forth and challenge each other. Women, of course, do not take any active part in this weird performance beyond handing round the drinks.

Though this is rather a strenuous game, there are many less painful ones with which the children amuse themselves. One of these, called the “Jaguar Game,” is similar to our own “Fox and Geese.” A long procession of boys line up and grip each other by the shoulders, and sway backwards and forwards crying out, “There is no jaguar to-day!” Whilst they are singing this merrily, a youngster bears down upon them from his hiding-place amongst the onlookers. He comes running along on his hands and one leg, the other leg being raised in the air to represent the tail of the jaguar. On his appearance the whole line of boys is thrown into confusion; they grow wildly excited and swerve and sway, and dodge round, always keeping in a long, snake-like line, with the foremost boy facing their adversary, the jaguar. It is the jaguar’s duty to catch the last one in the row and bear him off to his lair.

Sometimes this game is varied by the jaguar having two young cubs with her, who also run on “all threes”; they add greatly to the excitement of the sport by snapping, snarling, and generally behaving as young cubs should. The game goes on till all the row has been captured.

In the “Monkey Game” laughter reaches its highest point, for this is one of the wildest they play; and not only the children indulge in it, but the grown-up men sometimes take it into their heads to play it, when it assumes a very different aspect. With the children it is pure fun, with little or no danger attaching to it.

A crowd of youngsters line up and move about like monkeys who are merely enjoying themselves. Suddenly one of them stops and gives vent to a shriek of fear; the others take up the cry and immediately break their line and run wildly all over the place, chattering excitedly. When the simulated panic is at its height the smaller boys spring on to the backs of the bigger ones, and are raced about all over the place till fatigue puts an end to the fun. When their elders play the “Monkey Game,” however, they often become so worked up that they really behave like a crowd of monkeys gone stark, staring mad.

Sir Everard F. im Thurn, K.C.M.G., at present Governor of Fiji, to whom I am indebted for the photographs of these Guiana games, relates a most trying experience he went through during one of these mad frolics. He says that the players suddenly burst in amongst the huts, swarmed up the roofs, tearing great mouthfuls of thatch away in their flight, and then dashed into the rooms, upsetting everything they came across and destroying food and furniture. “The old man of the settlement and his wife, in real anxiety for their goods, tried to protect what they could, tearing it even from out of the ’monkeys’’ hands or throwing food to them to distract their attention from more valuable property. At last, with the help of two bystanders, the old man secured the more violent of the players, and, despite some too genuine scratchings and bitings, managed to fasten them by ropes round their loins, monkey-wise, to the posts of houses. At last five had been so caught and tied in one house; and then, if there had been uproar before, there was pandemonium now. The captives screamed and shrieked and yelled; they rolled as far as their cords would allow, and tore with their teeth everything that came in their way: food, clothes, hammocks, pans, and calabashes.... The whole mighty uproar only ceased when all were literally too tired to do more.”

This quaint instance of a game running away with its players seems strange to us, but probably if a savage saw some of our football matches he, too, might think the players had suddenly gone mad.

The “Shield Game” is another pastime of the grown-up natives. In this each man is provided with a strong shield made of palm-leaf stalks. Armed with this he faces his opponent. After much preliminary stamping and feigning they close and a mighty struggle commences, in which each man endeavours to push his adversary back. It is a kind of tug-of-war reversed. Besides being a game, it is often used as a means to settle disputes, in which, of course, the strongest man wins. The accompanying photograph gives an excellent idea of the pastime. Occasionally when tribes fall out a whole line of experts are chosen from each side, and the dispute is settled without bloodshed by the success of either side. It will be gleaned from this that the quality of “pushfulness” has an added value in British Guiana.

To go back to the games of children and also to jump a few thousand miles to the west, we find some interesting and curious pastimes among the aboriginals of Australia, where the young idea copies the ways of its fathers and makes games of their serious ceremonies. Amongst other things they play at marriage, taking some of the romantic details prior to the ceremony to make their game. In some parts of Australia an aboriginal has first to catch his wife before he can marry her, and the youngsters have probably heard from their mothers that this was not always the easiest thing to do, for there may have been others anxious to wed her--provided always that she was a good worker, looks being of small account. So the children have taken all these things into consideration and made their game from them.

As these aborigines have no proper villages, but live in shelters thrown together in the most primitive fashion, the children choose a spot in the bush where Nature has made a sort of covering; they then congregate and imitate grown-up people, chattering about nothing in particular, whilst the young man hovers round in the bush. Suddenly he bears down on the players and attempts to abduct one of the girls. This arouses the others, who all try to stop him, and one of the young gallants attacks the would-be abductor and a mock fight ensues, the winner bearing the maiden off in triumph to the bush.

Amongst the men there are few real games; they all seem to take life rather seriously, and as soon as they are grown up they devote their whole time to obtaining food and taking part in the numerous religious ceremonies, some of which are most elaborate and trying functions. To us these may appear very like games, but to the aborigines they are particularly sacred. Of late years, however, they have turned one or two of these ceremonies into dances or corroborees, but probably this has been done to amuse the whites and extract money from them--like the Maoris, who now dance the “Haka” as if it were a spectacular dance for the benefit of the Pakeha. With the coming of civilization and peace some phases of its serious import have gone. The photograph given above shows Australian aborigines performing the kangaroo dance, which is a modified exhibition of one of their ancient ceremonies. It is not an exciting affair, nor beautiful, as these savages are not adepts at dancing. All they do is to crawl about, stamping and gesticulating, whilst the man dressed as a kangaroo goes backwards and forwards and up and down the line with a sort of high-stepping action. This kangaroo dance at one time had a significant meaning, and was probably danced in connection with an old-time legend, but, like many similar ceremonies, it is now carried on simply because the ancestors of the present generation taught it. This in itself would be quite sufficient to keep the most absurd custom alive, for ancestors are held in great reverence amongst savages.

One of the most amusing games I have ever witnessed in savage lands was in New Zealand, where I saw a crowd of children dancing an imitation “Haka.” The “Haka,” when danced seriously by grown-ups, is a most awe-inspiring and thrilling exhibition which stirs every nerve in your body; but when children dance it, it becomes a grotesque and laughable affair. The Maoris, men, women, and children, have a well-developed sense of humour, which is more than most savages have, and the word “savage” hardly applies to them, for more civilized and Christian beings would be hard to find. When white men first came in contact with them they found them anything but civilized except in their ideas of justice, in which they were able to give us lessons; in hospitality even now they can put a white man to shame. However, for the purpose of this article I will call them savages.

The children from their earliest days begin to laugh. I do not remember ever seeing one cry--and they seem to spend the rest of their days with a smile hovering somewhere near their faces, ready at the slightest provocation to come out. As the “Haka” is composed of a series of body movements, in which facial expression plays a prominent part, the children have plenty of scope to caricature the whole performance, which they turn into a merry pantomime, stamping and shouting, rolling their eyes, and hanging out their tongues in curious imitation of the real performers. The girls, too, have their dances, and these are really both pretty and interesting, for they are handsome creatures who know they are good looking, and enjoy showing themselves off to the best advantage, as one can see by the pretty and fascinating movements of the various dances they practise. The only thing that mars them is their anxiety to make grotesque faces every now and then, but perhaps this too is done by way of contrast. The men have the same failing, and though their expressions are more savage they do not add to the charm of the dances. To perform a dance of welcome in front of a visiting tribe, and pull horrible faces at them the while, is hardly likely to make the visitors feel at home, but the Maoris understand it, and so do not get cross, as you and I might.

In the Solomon Islands, British New Guinea, and the New Hebrides the children are also of a playful disposition and have many games which resemble ours, such as leap-frog and pick-a-back, whilst the elder generation have musical instruments resembling the jews’ harp, the fiddle, and the Pandean pipes.

Certain musical instruments are more or less common all over the world, but often the method of playing them differs, as the accompanying photograph will show. It represents a young Nicobarese playing a reed flageolet with his nose! Lots of people in the most civilized lands sing through their noses, but playing through them is, I believe, only practised in savage lands. In these same islands the natives have a sounding-board which I suppose they would call a musical instrument, for it takes the place of the well-known tom-tom used in other countries. Here it is beaten to keep time for dancers. It is a curiously constructed instrument, resembling a native shield; in fact, some travellers have mistaken it for one. Scooped out of the trunk of a tree in the same way that ordinary dug-out canoes are made, it is about five feet long and two or three feet broad; like a shield, it is concave in shape. One of the ends is pointed, and when in use this is stuck in the ground diagonally; a stone is placed under the other end to raise it. To play it the native plants one foot firmly on the buried end whilst he strikes the board with his disengaged foot.

“Musical” entertainments are popular in the Nicobar Islands, and the young men vie with each other in composing ditties which they hope will become popular and thus make them famous. So far none of these songs have been pirated in England, but this does not say that in the islands they are not “all the go.” Such tunes are composed to be sung to the accompaniment of the sounding-board and dances. These, among the women, resemble more than anything else the antics of timid ladies bathing at the seaside. The dancing of the men is not much help to the musician either, as it consists of a few movements rather like dumb-bell exercises for chest development, so that it can be understood that the young Nicobarese has no light task before him when he seeks fame in composition.

On the West Coast of Africa there is a remarkably interesting dance in which the movements of the dancer supply the “music.” For the particulars of this dance and for the photograph of the performers I have to thank Mr. T. J. Alldridge, some time District Commissioner. The native dancing girls wear most fantastic garments. Their bodies are covered with a net made of native cotton, from which hang great bunches of palm-leaf fibre. Tufts of the same material decorate their wrists and waists, and some wear curious knicker-bockers. To these latter garments are attached small pieces of hollow iron, from which rings are hung, and when the dancer gets in full swing these make a curious jingling noise. An accompaniment is also played by other women on another quaint instrument called a _sehgura_, which is made out of a hollow gourd covered with a net, on which are fixed a number of seeds. To produce the sound the ends of the net are held in the two hands and tightened and slackened alternately, while rhythmic shaking is now and then indulged in to vary the accompaniment.

In this part of the world there are several interesting games of chance, for natives are inveterate gamblers and will stake all they possess--huts, wearing apparel, and even their wives. One of their favourite pastimes is played with a concave board, which is put on the ground facing the players, who stand or squat a little way off. They then spin a sort of top into and across it until one of them fails to send it with sufficient force to carry it to the far end; it is then the business of the next man to spin his top with sufficient force to drive his opponent’s out, and so beat him.

Gambling seems to be common in all parts of the world; the Eskimo have many interesting games where chance and skill are combined. One called “nuglutang” is very popular and is played by several men at a time. From the centre of the room (generally from the roof) is slung a plate of ivory having a hole in its centre. The Eskimos stand away from it, and each in turn endeavours to throw a stick through the orifice. In one of their games, called “saketan,” they have a curious way of “staking.” The game is a sort of roulette; a board is placed on the ground, and a small cup with rounded bottom and a lip is spun on to it. The man in front of whom the lip stops is the winner, but, unlike most winners, he is actually a loser, for he has to go and fetch something to pay in as a stake, which the next “winner” takes, but he in turn pays in another forfeit in its place for the man who follows. So the game goes on until the last man wins, and he appropriates the stakes out and out, making himself the only real winner, whereas the first player to whom the cup pointed is the only loser in a game which causes the wildest excitement whilst the issue is in doubt.

It is a peculiar thing that string games, like some others already mentioned, are popular all over the world amongst the coloured races, and what is perhaps far more extraordinary is the fact, recently discovered, that some of these string figures are made in exactly the same way, and are of the same design in places as widely apart as America, the South Sea Islands, and Japan. The last photograph, taken by Mr. William A. Cunnington, shows a very interesting string figure from Central Africa called “Sumbo” (a fishing net), which is by no means a simple one.

For the description of this figure and permission to reproduce the photograph I have to thank the Secretary of the Anthropological Institute.

Besides having tricks of this sort in which the hands only are employed, there are many now known which are made with hands and feet, and others again are worked round the neck and the hands.

Dr. Haddon has made a particular study of the subject, and has, in collaboration with Dr. Rivers, published particulars of many of the string tricks performed in various parts of the world.

_The Marriage of Lulu._

BY THE REV. A. FORDER, OF JERUSALEM.

The author is a missionary who has travelled extensively in the East, and is thoroughly familiar with the wild tribes of the desert. In the subjoined narrative he relates the love-story of a young Arab girl--a real life romance with the conventional happy ending of fiction.

It was that time of the day which Orientals call _asr_, between four o’clock and sunset--just the time when the Arab chief likes to be on hand so that he may receive and welcome any who may seek the hospitality and shelter afforded by his simple home, and see for himself that sufficient food for man and beast is provided, so that both may sup and be satisfied.

On a certain afternoon Sheikh Khaleel sat at his tent door watching the sun slowly sink toward the west, wondering, as he pulled at the dying embers in his pipe, if it would be his lot to entertain any guest that night.

As his sharp eyes looked out from under his shaggy eyebrows he saw in the distance a rider mounted on a camel, whose head was directed straight for the camp under the chief’s control.