Page:Williams and Calvert, Fiji and the Fijians, New York, 1860.djvu/160

130 FIJI AJsB THE FIJIAJyS. " orchestral force," while the dancers often number one or two hundred. The performance of the musicians " is on one note, the bass alternating with the air : they then sound one of the common chords in the bass clef, without the alternation." Several of them elicit clear notes from the long stick by hitting it with a shorter one ; others produce a sort of tambourine sound by striking their bamboos on the ground ; the rest clap their hands, and all give vocal help. They keep excellent time, and the words sung refer either to the occasion, or to some event in their past history. The dancers are gaily dressed ; and as all bear clubs or spears, and perform a series of marchings, steppings, halts, and varied evolutions, a stranger would rather suppose them to be engaged in a military re- view than in a dance. As the performance approaches the close, the speed quickens, and the actions steadily increase in violence, accompa- nied by a heavy tramping on the ground, until the excited dancers, al* most out of breath, shout, at the top of their voices, " Wa-oo ! " and the dance is ended. Persons who know a new dance are paid for teaching it, the fee be- ing called votua. The following short song contains the complaint of an ill-rewarded teacher : — '* The mother of Thangi-limba is rexed. How can we teach, unrewarded, the dance ? Here is the basket for the fees — and empty ! Truly this is an illiberal world." Some few of the islanders are acquainted with sleight-of-hand tricks, which they exhibit among their friends. The Chiefs occasionally amuse themselves by vaharihamalamala, punning, and playing upon words. Thus, as the word ulaula means either to thatch a house, or to throw ulas — short clubs — at one another, the Mbau people sometimes order the Tailevu people to come to Mbau to ulaula. They come, exj^ecting to thatch a house, and find themselves pelted with clubs. On fine nights, or rainy days, story-telling, including all kinds of traditions, histories, and fictions, often of the most extravagant kind, is a favourite amusement. Such children as are allowed to live are treated with a foolish fond- ness ; but, in some parts, the father may not speak to his son afler his fifteenth year. Family discipline is unreal, and its apparent restraints easily set aside. Children stray away at pleasure, and very soon be- come independent of their parents, by whom they are taught to dance, to plant, and to fight. Insults or injuries endured by their friends are impressed on their susceptible minds ; and the parties who inflicted