The Lutheran Pioneer St. Louis — 1927, Page 110

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110

THE LUTHERAN PIONEER.

are wiped up most carefully. In earlier times; when
children first came to school, parents would cleanse
the places first, amidst incomprehensible mumblings,
lest harm should befall their litile ones.

In times of great general stress, of epidemics or
death, it is a common practise for old and young
people to go about, of an evening, carrying fire-
brands of cocos or dry wood, howling and making
noise, round about and through the village or hut,
believing that, in this manner, they will drive away
the evil spirits who caused the sickness or the death.
Often, in the night, one is awakened by the un-
earthly pounding upon a drum; for some one

Former Papuan Cannibals.

imagines he has seen the evil one. However, the

cause was only the movement of the tall grass or of .

a shrub in the night breeze —a will-o’-the-wisp.

These exorcisms, or driving out of evil spirits,
present to the non-natives one of those uncanny yet
interesting pictures through which New Guinea has
become most generally known.

The Daily Routine of the Papuan.

The first meal of the day follows the bath; it is
breakfast and the principal meal, at one and the
same time. The next and last meal is taken at five
or six o'clock in the evening. Between times, the
Papuan eats the ripe bananas from his planation.
The cooking, preparation, and serving of the meals
is the duty of the wife. Her bill of fare contains only
native flora and fauna. The principal constituent,

4 \

which is served at nearly every meal, is sago — the
pith of the sago-tree. LEaten alone, the sago is in-
sipid; therefore the cook adds cat- or dog-meat,
pork, birds or fish, to sharpen the appetite. Also
crawfish, lizards, bees, wasps, maggots, worms, grass-
hoppers, frogs, turtles and their eggs are added as
seasoning. As a second dish, the wife cooks some-
thing which looks and tastes very much like our cab-

-bage, although the islanders have nothing but the

tough leaves of the trees instead; they do not culti-
vate cabbage.

When the sago has been cooked sufficiently, the
wife, by means of two sticks, takes a spoonful of it
out of the pot, and lays it on two
crossed banana leaves. She continues
this operation until she has enough
for a share about the size of a
dumpling. Then she very deftly folds
the leaves over the whole portion.
Afterwards, she makes enough of these
shares to serve the family.

Occasionally, instead of  sago,
“potj” is served. This is a mixture
of tuberous roots, such as sweet pota-
toes, yams, or taro; these are boiled
well, mashed, and put into coconut
shells, or on a single large plate. This
completes the dinner. Since there are
no tables and chairs, all the members
of the family squat down on the floor,
as soon as the housewife announces
the meal to be ready; and at once
the sago-dumplings in their banana
coverings are passed around. Fach one
lays down his portion, unwraps the
leaves, and, with the left hand, seizes a.
mouthful. With the right hand he helps himself to:
the vegetable, and eats greedily and hastily, without
the aid of a fork. At the end of the meal, he rubs.
his hands in the sand, as an ablution. The banana
peelings and scraps are carefully gathered, not from.
cleanliness, but through fear of witchcraft, just as.
in the ease of the betel-hulls. Especially after
a meal does the Papuan like sweet idleness, so he:
seeks a cool spot near the sea that he may enjoy a
chat with his companions who join him, and, to be:
sure, take comfort in a resumption of the delicious.
betel-chewing. The subjects of their conversation
are always the same—sago, tobacco, betel-nuts,.
their wives and children, witchcraft and sorcery.
nor is the smoking and chewing allowed to cease.
Finally, the monotony of the prattle lulls them to-
sleep; they stretch out at full length, and soon find