
Personal Appearance and Customs.
The men are described as tall, stout fellows, with brown skins and handsome bushy beards, generally black, but sometimes tinged with auburn, the hair generally long and straight, but sometimes curly. The women were much smaller, with delicate fingers and beautifully-formed hands, and very pleasing in appearance up to twenty years of age. More than one woman is described as having auburn hair and a fair skin, answering to the urukehu or reddish-coloured hair sometimes seen amongst the Maoris. Both sexes were virtuous whilst young, in which they differ materially from the usual custom of the Polynesians.
In their habits they were cleanly, bathing every morning in baths formed at the edge of the lagoon, and subsequently in

pools of fresh water, of which there appear to have been several on the islands. They were hospitable and generous, like the Maori, and also, like them, often entertained their visitors till they had exhausted the whole of their supplies. They sat cross-legged, like the Maori, were very talkative, accompanying their conversation with much gesticulation, were easily worked up to a great pitch of excitement, very sensible to ridicule, fond of laughter, and “fickle as the wind.” They had great bodily activity, were much given to singing as they paddled over the smooth waters of the lagoon or travelled along from island to island over the reef. Superstitious dread of evil spirits prevented their venturing out at night except in numbers. They did not steal from one another except on organized foraging expeditions, when a dearth of cocoanuts obliged them to make incursions on to a neighbouring island. Fire was procured by friction exactly as the Maoris do, by the use of two sticks, one laid on the ground and held in position by the foot, whilst the other was rapidly passed backwards and forwards till a groove was formed and the dust in it ignited. Counting was performed by pairs, just as with the Maoris.
The men employed themselves in fishing, making canoes, spears, or their household utensils, whilst the women did the cooking, scraping the cocoanut-kernel to prepare niu wara—with a shell scraper held exactly in the same peculiar manner that the Maori woman holds the pipi-shell to scrape kumara or potatoes. Salutations were performed by the hongi, or rubbing of noses, as with the Maori, to which the same name was given. Bathing was the general panacea for all ills, except of a very serious kind, when the priest was feed to exert his influence, and by incantations to remove the cause. They appear to have been almost as much at home in the water as on land. It was the duty of the women to swim out into the lagoon with a basket attached to a paddle, and there dive to great depths for shell-fish, often bringing up the great paua or Tridacna. Sometimes the whole population of a kainga, or village, would surround a shoal of porpoises outside the breakers on the reef, and by their shouts and noise drive them ashore. In doing this the women practised the same custom as their Maori sisters—i.e., placing their elbows near their sides they brought down the hollowed hands on to the surface of the water, causing a loud report.
Marriages were not allowed between relatives nearer in degree of consanguinity than second cousins. Lamont describes a marriage ceremony as follows: “The relatives and people, having taken their morning meal, assembled near the hut of the chief, where the bridegroom was already seated. The bride herself was not visible, custom rather than modesty

compelling her to remain in retirement. The men then formed in a row for the pihu, or dance, and the women, before sitting down in front of them, arranged their tiheis or petticoats so as not to crumple them, as they prepared to join in the chant. The bride had mean while not appeared, and it was not until she had been angrily called that from a closed hut some young girls emerged with what seemed to be a bundle of mats in the centre. This, however, was really the young bride, who, coming forth, ran towards the hut where the bridegroom was seated, and then, darting back, was again enveloped in mats and withdrawn to the remotest corner of the house. The bride does not entirely disrobe herself of matting for several days after the marriage, when she appears with the tihei, which she wears constantly for the remainder of her life. Whilst the bride hides herself under the matting, the bridegroom sits in front of the hut, and the ceremony of pihu commences, accompanied by an extra amount of crying, cutting, and bleeding, making a most melancholy affair of the happy event. The bride is then handed over to the oldest relatives present for some further ceremonies, which over, the affair is completed.” In Mr. Wyatt Gill's “Life in the Southern Isles” is given a pretty picture of a Manihiki bride, which seems to depict much the same dress as here described. The ceremony itself seems to be allied to the Samoan custom on similar occasions—for which see Dr. Turner's “Samoa”—and is more formal than that in vogue with the Maoris.
Of their superstitious ceremonies Mr. Lamont gives several descriptions, one of which, evidently a form of purification to remove the evil effects which might arise from contact with their foreign visitors, was briefly as follows. Part of it appears to be called a hai, a ceremony very closely allied to that called by the Maoris pukanakana, or whakatama—a kind of dance of defiance, accompanied with much grimacing and gesticulation. Lamont and his companions were led to the marae by the men, the women and children not being allowed to enter: “Four young men rushed with their spears to the edge of the marae, as if about to attack an enemy, facing each other with the most horrid grimaces, and rapidly uttering a kind of incantation. When this hai, as it is called, was over, the whole concourse of men hastened within the precincts of the marae. Two old priests, girt round with cocoanut-leaves, took seats on either side of the marae, some distance further up than the rest. Three young cocoanuts were then placed on the flat stones in front of us, near which stood four young men decked with wreaths of green cocoanut-leaves. At a signal from the priests two of these, stripping pieces of husk from the cocoanut-leaves before them, ran to a point, where they deposited one piece of husk, and immediately darted

back. Each then got behind one of the stones near the priests, and presented the other parts of the husks. This they did in a slow and decorous manner, raising their hands high above their heads and putting the husks down before the priests, who took them with a meek and reverend air, bent over them, and, uttering a low, hurried incantation, threw them over their left shoulders. After repeating this in different parts of the marae the whole party advanced to an altar—a heap of rude stones. A youth, having cut three small branches of young cocoanut-tree, plaited the leaves into something resembling the form of a man, and handed them to an old man. On receiving these three gods he ascended the altar, and all heads remained bowed in awe till the ceremony was over. The priest, on ascending the altar, seating himself in front of a large stone while he held the gods in his hands, began to glance round in every direction over the heads of the people before him. A trembling motion, commencing in his hands, extended through his whole body, till every limb shook in a violent manner, the muscles working and veins swelling almost to bursting—a sign that he was possessed by the spirit. After uttering a few incoherent sentences, which subsided into a low prayer or incantation, he lifted his leafy god and struck him violently against the stone, repeating the process with all three. They were then unceremoniously thrown on one side. The three cocoanuts were now removed, and we were marched once more out of the marae, and seated outside. Here the nuts, after further ceremonies, were divided and handed to us to eat. The natives then took us to a small pool of fresh water, where, stooping their heads, with a peculiar motion of the arms, they splashed themselves and us all over.” They were then taken to a place where the women were, who performed a dance which Mr. Lamont calls a shukai or hukai, but which from the description is an exact counterpart of the Maori haka. Following this was a genuine Maori tangi, with the usual accompaniments of cutting the flesh, weeping, wailing, &c.
Another of their ceremonies was called harahara, a welcome to strangers, apparently just like the same custom of the Maoris, and in which the Maoris sometimes use the ancient chant beginning, “Hara mai hea, tere tere nui o Tu, &c.” Pihu (or piu, perhaps) was the name given to a chant and dance which is very similar to the Maori haka or kani-kani. In making speeches the men were accustomed to take short runs up and down, and at each turn to pour forth their eloquence, exactly as the Maori does.
The Tongarewans appear to have the same form of tapu as elsewhere amongst the Polynesian race; but according to Lamont the word used was huiatua, which would mean the

“company of gods,” and it is used in this sense in some of the islands. I think it not improbable that Mr. Lamont has from his imperfect knowledge of the language, misunderstood this word, and used it instead of tapu, when it really has the meaning I give above.
At parting they used the words “E hana, e noho,” exactly as the Maoris do; the hana in this case being the Taranaki whano, to go, which in other parts of New Zealand would be haere.
According to the Rev. W. W. Gill (“Jottings from the Pacific,” p. 147), the sacred fish of these islanders in olden time were the robber-crab, a species of land-crab called tupa, the octopus, and the conger-eel. Turtles—called onu—and porpoises were eaten only by the men; and the killing of the former, as in so many of the islands, was accompanied with many ceremonies, which Lamont describes. The priest repeated an incantation or prayer over it, apparently to drive out some evil spirit. It was then taken to the marae, where further ceremonies were performed, and there beheaded and disembowelled. A fire was then lit, the turtle cooked, and offered on a rude altar to the gods. It was then taken outside the marae and eaten by the men, the women showing the greatest horror when part was offered by the Europeans to them: One or more of all fish caught was similarly first offered to the gods before being eaten.
The Tongarewans do not appear to have differed from the Maori or eastern Polynesians in their love of fighting. In this little group of fourteen islets, many only separated from one another by the shallow waters of the reef, it was certain death for the inhabitants of one to trespass on the shores of another, unless in the few cases where they were allied for mutual protection. Each little islet had its iriki (Maori, ariki), who ruled his tribe and led it in war. Their arms consisted of long, light spears, called tao—the same weapon and with the same name as that of the Maori—laboriously split out from cocoanut wood with their shell toki or adzes. These were from 12ft. to 14ft. long, and sometimes tipped with fish-bone. They were highly polished with a rasp of fish-skin called a poirari. The koirari, or club, is made of the same wood, but is stronger, and in shape like a paddle; it was generally ornamented with carving on the blade part. These clubs were frequently used by the women in battle to break the spears of the enemy. It was rare that the women so engaged were hurt by the men of the opposing party. Such was the constant state of dread the people lived in, that they never moved about far from their homes without arms in their hands. Much of the fighting was done in canoes on the smooth waters of the lagoon. The women were sent with

offers of peace—another custom common to these people and the Maoris.
Of their manufactured articles their canoes must rank as the first in importance. They were of all sizes, the largest capable of holding forty or fifty men, and they invariably had an ama, or outrigger. They were made of a tree called to—not the ito, or ironwood, of the other islands, but a much softer wood. A tree from 3ft. to 4ft. in diameter was selected, and then patiently hacked down with their shell tokis. The log is then rolled to the sea, where the action of the waves partially softens the wood—sufficiently so to allow the builders to split it up into variously-sized pieces, the longest and narrowest of which is selected to form a keel about a foot broad, rounded at the bottom and hollowed inside. The keel is shaped so as to gradually slope up at either end, terminating above the water in the ihu, or bow, at one end. Various pieces of irregular shape are now cut to fit one another, and with them the sides are built up, each piece being carefully rounded off so as to conform to the general contour. They are polished with coral to make them fit, and the edges of each piece are bored with a sharp stone or shell to receive the lashings which hold them together. The joints are cemented together with a preparation of pounded cocoanut-husk steeped in water. The body of the canoe is not built the whole length of the keel-piece, but projecting parts are left, both at stern and bow—the latter to act as a cutwater, which, being bluff, prevents the vessel from sinking in the trough of the seas. The upper tier of pieces has a projecting ledge on which the paddlers sit, whilst in the stern is a raised seat used to steer from. The paddle is long, the blade narrow, and usually carved.
The natives also make kumetes, or bowls for their food; cocoanut-shells serving for cups. Their toki, or adze-handles, as also their shark-hooks, are made of a hard wood like myrtle. Everything else is formed of cocoanut, excepting their tuis (spoons) and mataus (fish-hooks), which are formed out of pearl-shell, the former of which are often carved. Their houses appear generally to be mere huts made of cocoanut-leaves, open at the sides; but in the better class mats to lift up and down are used to keep out the wind: in this they correspond with the houses of Samoa. The floors and vicinity of the houses are spread with rounded white pebbles of coral, which gives them a neat and cleanly appearance. The people sleep on mats made from the pandanus-leaves, which they call kie. Ropes are made of cocoanut-husk after it has been beaten and soaked, as are also their fishing-lines. The former are called kaha, the same as the Maori word for rope. Bags and nets are also made from the same material, and are

called toto. A collection of houses is called a kainya, the same as in Maori.
Their clothing consists of the universal maro worn by the men, made of cocoanut-leaves. The tihei, worn by the women, is a garment made of finer cocoanut-leaves, split into strips and fastened on a cord at top, which secures it round the waist and allows it to fall to the knees. The Tahitian and Maori word for the same article of dress is the same. The pareu is a short mantle of plaited cocoanut-leaves, narrowed round the neck, and falling over the shoulders to the waist. A large garment called kahu (Maori, kakahu) is sometimes used as a covering at night. They also make a pare (same word in Maori) to shade the face from the sun.
Their diet did not contain much variety. Cocoanut in its various forms was the staple article, flavoured with fish, which was cooked in an oven of stones exactly like a Maori umu, or hangi. A light meal of raw cocoanut was taken soon after rising, a more substantial one at noon, and the principal meal of the day just before sunset, in all of which they resembled the Maoris. The general name for cocoanut at Tongarewa is niu, a word common to most of the islands, with slight variations. In some parts the leaf is called ni, and from this I think the Maori derived the name of our only palm, the ni-kau, which may be translated ni-only, or ni-without—a very natural name to be applied to a palm similar to the cocoanut, but without its fruit. The niu has, however, in all the islands various names in its different stages of growth. In Tongarewa they appear to be as follows: In its earliest stages it is called makomako. Vaimanga is the top of the young fruit before it has become husk; in that state it is eaten by the natives with fish. Niu-mata is the half-grown state, with the soft pulp from which is made niu-wara (or, as Lamont spells it, niu-oara), the common food of the people (mata, in Maori, means unripe), The motumotu is the ripe nut with the husk still green: from this is made poe in the same manner as niu-wara, but it has not such a delicate taste. There is a particular kind of cocoanut called mangaro (which in Maori means mealy), the green husk of which is sweet-flavoured. Old dried cocoanuts are called hakari (akari in Rarotonga), from which is made ororo, a preparation which is considered a great delicacy. If the cocoanut fails, the people have nothing to fall back on but fish and the drupes of the pandanus, for neither kumaras, taros, nor yams appear to have been known to the people in former times. The Rev. W. Wyatt Gill mentions in one of his works a proposition then on foot to remove the people to some other island, as they were in a state of starvation. The only animal was a small rat, which

was not eaten. It is believed that human flesh was eaten on very rare occasions.
Such, then, are some of the customs of the Penrhyn-Islanders; and I think it will be allowed that they resemble those of the Maori in many remarkable particulars. Sterndale says that the people of Rakahanga, Manihiki, and Tonga-rewa call themselves maori. It is quite probable that this is so, and, though the word cannot be taken as having a racial meaning, it is naturally applied to themselves as distinguished from foreigners. The word may be translated as—indigenous, native, common, ordinary, &c.; and it was possibly never heard of as a racial and descriptive name until contact with foreigners necessitated its use.
In the following list of names of people and words, I have, where necessary, reduced the spelling to the form commonly used in Maori, after a careful study of the sound of each word, as given in the peculiar style of spelling adopted by Mr. Lamont, which is a compound of English and Polynesian. There are, no doubt, errors in some of them, but not, I trust, many. I hope they will prove of interest to the philologist until a better collection is procured, though I fear that is not likely now to occur. It was found by the Rarotongan native missionaries that the language was so similar to their own that the Scriptures, written in Rarotongan, were at once introduced, and from them the people learnt to read and write; and thus probably the native dialect would die out together with the people, who number now but a small remnant of those who lived there thirty-five years ago, in Lamont's time. Sterndale says that at least a thousand of them were taken away by Peruvian slavers to work in the mines of that country. Judging from Lamont's spelling of the words, there are two peculiarities of pronunciation which are worthy of note: the first is, that when the letter “i” follows “t,” it has the sound of “chi”—as tamaichi, instead of tamaiti, as in Maori. It is somewhat strange that the Moriori of the Chatham Islands—separated from Tongarewa by over two thousand miles of ocean—has the same pronunciation of the same letter; and, if we may trust Mariner, the same thing is found in Tonga. The second peculiarity is one we are more accustomed to in the Ngapuhi dialect, but is found in no other tribe in New Zealand. The Tongarewans appear to pronounce the “h” as if it had an “s” before it. This is illustrated in the works of early visitors to New Zealand, where such words as Hokianga, Hauraki, Hongi, &c., were spelled Shokianga, Shauraki, Shongi, &c. Those who know the Ngapuhi dialect will recognise that there is some justification for this mode of spelling, although the sound intended to be represented

is not, strictly speaking, given by the “s,” but would be better rendered by a compound of that letter and a “y.”
