592
THE CONGRESS OF WOMEN.
Many of the natives carry umbrellas, for though they are almost naked and bareheaded, they dislike to get their hair wet. If they do not have an umbrella, they hold a large banana leaf over their heads, or make a cap of the leaf, or use a small mat for an umbrella.
Both men and women are fond of bleaching their hair by the use of lime that is burned from the coral rock. This gives the naturally black hair a reddish color, which they prefer. While this process is going on it is essential to keep their hair dry. One frequently sees them with their heads white, their hair filled with this lime, which is allowed to remain during the day, but is washed out in the evening and renewed in the morning, and so continued until they are satisfied with the color. A flower is never more than a minute in the hands of a native, either man or woman, before it is transferred to the hair, or placed behind the ear, and when these white heads are decorated with bright colored flowers and leaves, the effect, contrasting with the dark skin, is quite striking.
The Samoan women have no regular method of dressing their hair. It is arranged according to each one’s individual fancy, but all devote a good deal of time to beautifying themselves in this way. They shave their children’s heads, and among young boys and girls the fashion is varied. Sometimes a child is seen with merely a narrow band of hair running down the back of the head; another with a small tuft in front, which they call the “ love-lock;” another with only a little crown of hair on the very top of the head. Both men and women wear wreaths on their heads and garlands about their necks, made from the scarlet and green fruit of the pandanus , and generally a single blossom of the beautiful scarlet hibiscus (which grows everywhere) placed over their ear or on the top of their head.
Their clothing is made chiefly of tappa, their native cloth. Tappa is manufactured from the inner bark of the ua (oo-a), or paper mulberry tree, cultivated for this purpose. This bark is stripped from the tree and soaked for days in the river. Then the women, sitting on the stones on the edge of the stream and frequently in it, lay this juicy bark over a large flat stone or board, and with constant application of water, scrape it with a shell until the vegetable mucus is separated from it and nothing remains but the spongy white material. It is then taken to the house, and on a rounded hardwood log kept for that special purpose, is pounded with the flattened side of a heavy wooden club until the bark is expanded to the thinness wanted. Each piece is then spread in the sun to dry, and when a sufficient quantity is ready the women stick pieces together with arrow-root gum, layer over layer, until a cloth of the desired thickness and size is manufactured. It is then painted in many different patterns. Their paint is manufactured from nuts, plants and flowers which they find in the bush. This painting is all done by the old women. This native cloth, when new, is not unlike Japanese paper, but by use becomes soft and pliable.
The language of the Samoans is very musical. They have only fourteen letters in their alphabet—a, e, i, o, u, f, g, 1, m, n, p, s, t, v —and every syllable ends in a vowel, with only three letters in a syllable. They have a Bible, grammar and dictionary in their own language; their children all attend school; their churches are their school- houses, the pastor the teacher, and the Bible the reading-book. I was present at one of their school sessions during an examination in grammar, arithmetic and church history, at which the scholars acquitted themselves in a way that would do credit to many American boys and girls.
So far as I can judge, their life, ideas and practices, with reference to keeping the seventh, eighth and ninth commandments, are not in keeping with their seeming observance of the fourth, but before judging them harshly at this point there are several things to be considered in their favor. They have no ambition as a people, or aspirations to be other than as they are. They are happy and contented to a degree I have not seen elsewhere. They take or make little, if any, note of time or space, and even the better informed have no idea of their age, and I think there is no word in their language denoting distance, or by which it can be measured. I also think the