With such equality, the savage tribe does not know of wealth and poverty, education and ignorance, or master and servant. Most incitements to great crimes are thus lacking, and petty ones seem to be rare.
This, however, does not mean that in this village justice need never be administered, as I was witness to one such event. A tribesman by the name of Kaura was accused of invoking taboo by requesting of the Lamotelokhai certain personal benefits. Several tribesmen noticed that Kaura’s physical features had somewhat changed, indicating that unfitting requests of the Lamotelokhai may have been made. Matiinuo himself came to fetch me to attend Kaura’s inquest, as apparently this was yet another aspect of their customs they wished me to understand. I was taken to the hut of the Lamotelokhai, where about ten other men were gathered and seated on the floor. Two women were present as well, but they quickly left the hut upon seeing me arrive.
The inquest, or trial if it could be called that, was brief. The men who were the accusers explained what they believed to be evidence of wrongdoing, primarily that Kaura’s body had changed in certain ways. Kaura was then told to stand up, so that all could better see him. Even I could see that his arms were rather longer than one would expect. In fact, Kaura’s general structure seemed to more resemble one of the great apes, such as the Orangutan, the great man-like ape of Borneo. This gave Kaura a rather alarming and powerful appearance, although his face had scarcely changed at all. There was much nodding of heads and words of agreement that some rule or law had been violated, and Kaura, apparently seeing that he had no choice, admitted to the infraction.
Being aware that these men were capable of barbarous acts of violence, I expected Kaura’s punishment to involve such acts. However, instead he was simply told to make right what he had done wrong. As everyone in the hut watched, Kaura called forth the tree kangaroo, which seemed to always be somewhere nearby. Kaura employed the peculiar language of gesticulations to communicate with the creature, after which the tree kangaroo did the most peculiar thing. The creature responded to Kaura’s gesticulations by scratching its own belly with its forepaws. Then, before my very own eyes, the skin of the abdomen gave way, splitting apart as one paw was inserted several inches into the abdominal cavity. Soon the paw was withdrawn, and upon it rested a small mass of bloody entrails. Apparently without thinking this to be the least bit strange, Kaura took the dripping mass from the tree kangaroo and ate it.
Notwithstanding my own bewilderment at such behavior, the natives seemed satisfied with this, and most of them rose to their feet and began leaving the hut. Apparently they believed justice to be done. I approached the tree kangaroo for closer inspection. There was no longer any sign upon its belly of the self-inflicted wound. Sinanie, Noadi, and several other natives remained in the hut, watching me. I then had a discussion with them in which I learned a great deal of new information. I have decided it best to write the particulars of this conversation just as it occurred, except that I will translate the natives’ words to expedite the writing and reading of it.
“The mbolop (tree kangaroo) is unharmed,” said I. “How is this possible?”
Sinanie replied, “The mbolop cannot be harmed. It is of the Lamotelokhai.”
For a moment I assumed he must have meant that the tree kangaroo was protected by the medicine of the Lamotelokhai’s clay, as were he and his fellow tribesmen. However, then I realized that he had used the word ‘keliokhmo,’ which meant ‘to make’ or ‘to come together from,’ and that he was implying that the tree kangaroo was indeed made from the same clay that made up the Lamotelokhai.
“How did the mbolop come to be?” I asked.
Sinanie’s answer was extensive. “The mbolop exists because Matiinuo requested it to be so. This was long ago, before other men came to this land, and our tribe was the only tribe here. Our tribe crossed the big water for many days to come here. Matiinuo found the Lamotelokhai, because it called to him in his dreams. The Lamotelokhai was near the water’s edge. Matiinuo touched it, and he saw the woliol (figures) in his mind.” Sinanie paused and pointed to the figures carved upon the gourd that covered his sexual organ. “After that, Matiinuo saw other great things in his mind, and he became an improved person. He suffered no more from walukh (general sickness, but also the suffering of old age). He knew then that the Lamotelokhai had magic power, and he took the others of the tribe to it, and the others became improved. Life was then very good for our tribe, and there was no walukh. However, one day, Matiinuo’s brother, his name was Izack, went alone to the Lamotelokhai, and he talked to it. He asked for lu gamo (to ascend and become strong, or to become very improved). He then became strong. However, he became lelül lokhul (infected in the brain, perhaps meaning he became insane). Izack wanted to have the Lamotelokhai for himself. However, my tribe, we also wanted the Lamotelokhai. Izack was improved and strong. He attacked my tribe, which was his own tribe, and he killed men, women, and children. He used the magic power of the Lamotelokhai’s clay to make them khomilo-ayan (very dead), and they could not be healed. But his brother Matiinuo went with more men and killed Izack. They beat him with clubs and beat him and beat him until he was khomilo-ayan. That is when Matiinuo and the others of my tribe declared that talking directly to the Lamotelkhai was to invoke taboo. Matiinuo made one last request directly to the Lamotelkhai. He asked it to make the tree kangaroo. Now we talk only to the tree kangaroo. The tree kangaroo knows what is taboo. That is how the tree kangaroo came to be. That is why the tree kangaroo cannot be harmed.”
As Sinanie was explaining this, Noadi left the hut and soon returned with a white object in his hand. When Sinanie finished talking, Noadi handed the object to me. It was a very large tooth, more than four inches long, most likely from a crocodile. Upon its surface was etched in astounding detail a scene of bloodshed, in which bodies of men were strewn about on the ground, some of them missing arms or legs. In the center of all of this stood a creature that at first I thought was a man, but upon closer inspection more resembled a great ape, its arms elongated, with long, curved fingers. This creature was Izack, having been transformed by the power of the Lamotelokhai. And in some ways Izack resembled Kaura, although Kaura’s transformation had not yet been as extreme as this. At first I wondered why both men would request to be changed in such a similar way. Then it occurred to me that, in this place of dense tropical jungle, this was the most desirable body form, as it would allow them to move about in the trees with great agility. As I gazed at the creature etched in the tooth, standing over his maimed victims, an uneasy chill overcame me, as if I were gazing upon the devil himself.
When I handed the tooth back to Noadi, he left the hut again, as if he were resolute in returning the tooth immediately to its rightful place.
I took a moment to ponder all of this new information. “When you captured me and killed my companions, you applied clay from the Lamotelokhai to their bodies and our belongings.”
Sinanie nodded. “The clay helps the bodies and the belongings return to the soil of the forest.”
This explained how our sack of supplies disintegrated before our very eyes. “How is it that you can do such a thing without talking to the Lamotelokhai?” said I.
Sinanie smiled at me as if he were talking to a schoolboy. “Each of the men in our tribe carries with him a skin pouch, and in it he keeps clay of the Lamotelokhai. This clay can be used for different purposes, and we do not have to talk to the Lamotelokhai. The clay knows what purpose we intend when we apply it to something.”
Notwithstanding the peculiar nature of this explanation, I was still curious about the tribe’s notions of justice. “Kaura talked directly to the Lamotelokhai,” said I. “And he asked it to make him very strong. That is why he was accused.”
Sinanie said, “That is correct. Kaura agreed to fudamo (to repay or repent), which he did. Now he will not become lelül lokhul and kill us.”
I asked, “How do you trust that he will do what you have told him to do?”
Sinanie lo
oked at the other men beside him, and they smiled as if I had asked a question with an obvious answer. “We witnessed his fudamo. You yourself witnessed it.”
Apparently they could not imagine, or perhaps it was indeed impossible, that Kaura could have deceived them.
I then said, “I talk to the Lamotelokhai, and you don’t accuse me. Why?”
Sinanie answered, “You are laléo (an outsider). We have always known an outsider would come who could talk to the Lamotelokhai in different ways. The Lamotelokhai told us this long ago. This outsider, when he comes he will take the Lamotelokhai away, and then true Lamotelokhai will occur.”
This confused me. “What does ‘true Lamotelokhai’ mean?”
“The world will end,” he said. “The world will turn upside down and it will end. That is the meaning of the word Lamotelokhai. That is why it is the name we have given to the magic clay.”
“Do you mean that your world will end, or do you mean that the entire world will end?” Finding the correct words to ask this question was difficult, and perhaps I was unsuccessful because the natives seemed unable to understand. Or perhaps they simply did not perceive any distinction between these two notions.
My waning confidence in using their language was uncompensated by any great success in asking my next few questions, which regarded their laws. This was perhaps due in part to the fact that they had no written language by which to record specific laws in any permanent form. Therefore their laws, such as the prohibition of talking directly to the Lamotelokhai, were subject to varying interpretations by each individual. However, upon further inquiry, I determined that there was more to it than simple interpretation. They were confounded by the notion of having specific laws to be followed by all people under all circumstances. How, they inquired, could one administer justice to a man without considering the man’s situation and the events that led to his behavior? After considerable discussion, I came to understand that these natives did not live within the confines of specific and rigid laws. Instead, they were subject to a natural sense of what was fair and just in any situation, as determined by public opinion and with regard to the rights of their fellow tribesmen. Perhaps this is a sense that is inherent in every race of man, but the power to adhere to it becomes lost in more densely populated and ‘civilized’ communities.
What I found to be most striking was the manner in which they administered justice. I said to them, “You did not harm Kaura, as I thought you might.” I was not aware of a word for ‘punish,’ as perhaps they did not have one. “What will prevent him from again directly talking to the Lamotelokhai?”
Sinanie answered, “Kaura did not harm us. Why would we harm him?”
“If you harmed him,” said I, “he would not do it again, as he would fear being harmed again.”
They dismissed this notion as absurd. I attempted to explain that in some communities, including my own city of London, those who failed to obey the laws were often punished harshly, sometimes even maimed or executed in painful ways. Sinanie and his companions were aghast and could not understand why these people were not simply told to make right whatever they had done wrong. If a man had taken something, for example, why would he not simply be told to return it? I said that sometimes the crime was very serious, such as murder. In this case, they said, why would he not be told to increase his efforts in order to provide whatever assistance to the tribe that the murdered man could no longer provide?
“But you have said that Matiinuo’s brother, Izack, was killed when he murdered members of your tribe,” said I.
Sinanie answered, “Izack intended to continue killing. We stopped him.”
After pondering these notions for a moment, I said, “When you encountered me, you murdered my companions. And then you maimed me without mercy. Why?”
Sinanie said, “We did what was needed. We kill outsiders so they will not take the Lamotelokhai from us. We did not kill you because the mbolop told us you might be the man who will come to talk to the Lamotelokhai, the man who will better understand it and will take it away.”
“Am I that man?”
“We are not yet certain.”
“Why did you maim me?”
“We did what was needed. You intended to run away. We stopped you.”
This confirmed my impression that these natives did not comprehend the notion of punishment. They simply did what they felt was necessary, and being savages, that did not preclude maiming and killing. But as I considered their response to what I had told them regarding justice and punishment in London, it occurred to me that they might consider me to be the savage. This was a rather dismal thought, so I decided to pursue other questions.
“I have seen no children in your village. Why?”
“We have children when we need them,” Sinanie replied. “At this time we do not need children.”
“I do not understand. Your tribe will die if you do not have children.”
Again the natives smiled as if this were something I should already understand. Another tribesman who was present, a man I had not previously spoken to, by the name of Tinal, answered this question. “If we had children always, there would be too many people in our tribe. Our tribe is the correct size.”
“Perhaps your tribe should be larger,” said I. “If the Humboldt Bay tribe returns with all their men, you will be too few.”
Sinanie said, “That tribe believes they have killed Teatakan, Ot, and Korul. They will not return. Our tribe is the correct size.”
“How do you know your tribe is the correct size?” I asked.
The men looked at each other again, although this time they did not smile. The answer that followed confounded me. It continued to inundate my thoughts even into the dark of night, and later I would lie in my hut, unable to sleep as I pondered its meaning.
Sinanie said, “Our tribe is wakhatum for the Lamotelokhai (wakhatum refers to folktales, or stories, or knowledge, in this case referring to those who keep the stories and knowledge). Our tribe is the correct size for this. The Lamotelokhai contains much wakhatum (in this case the meaning is closer to ‘knowledge’). It is knowledge that will turn the world upside down, which will be Lamotelokhai (the end of the world). The knowledge is very important, and so the Lamotelokhai has put some of the knowledge into each member of our tribe. Our tribe is the correct size for the knowledge. If we had more men and women, there would be no more knowledge for them to carry, and they would have no purpose. We each carry the knowledge given to us, and there is no more knowledge.”
I spent several moments pondering what he had said. Then I asked, “Why did the Lamotelokhai put knowledge into each of you?” I asked.
“The knowledge is important. It is our purpose.”
“Do you know what the knowledge is?”
Sinanie smiled. “We know the knowledge is important. It is very much. It is too much for us to know.”
I attempted to ask him how it could be possible to carry knowledge and at the same time not know what the knowledge was, but asking this seemed to be beyond my ability, as it resulted only in frowns and shaking of heads. Therefore, I decided to pursue this specific matter at a later time, after having time to formulate proper questions. I returned to a previous question still on my mind.
“What if one of you is killed and becomes khomilo-ayan (very dead)? What becomes of the knowledge?”
Tinal answered this question. “That is the time when one of our women will have a child, so that our tribe will be the correct size. The child will then be given the knowledge previously carried by the khomilo-ayan.”
Notwithstanding the bewildering nature of this answer and the myriads of new questions it created, I instead asked a simple question. “And how long ago was the last time that the tribe had to have a child?”
Once again the men smiled, and Tinal replied, “A very long time.”
I was curious as to precisely how long this was, but I had already determined that these natives had only a rudimentary sense of ma
thematics and did not posses the means to express large numbers with any exactness. Instead, they expressed the passing of time with regard to past events. As I pondered this, something Sinanie had said came back to beleaguer my thoughts.
“You have said that Matiinuo found the Lamotelokhai when your tribe came to this land. Matiinuo is the elder of your tribe, correct?”
Sinanie said, “Yes, Matiinuo is the oldest. He lived when our tribe came across the big water. The rest of us came into the world after Matiinuo found the Lamotelokhai.”
I took a moment to devise a way to ask my next question. Finally, I said, “I would like to know how long Matiinuo has lived. What can you tell me to help me understand?”
The men considered this, and then Sinanie replied, “When Matiinuo found the Lamotelokhai, he became improved, and he no longer suffered from walukh. Before that, he was a normal man. Normal men do not live long, and so he was very young when he found the Lamotelokhai. Matiinuo is now the only member of our tribe who existed when our tribe came over the big water. The others have died, long ago. I came into the world soon after Matiinuo found the Lamotelokhai, so I am almost as old as Matiinuo. There were no other tribes in this land when I was a child, and for many days after that. The animals were different then. Some men of our tribe were killed and eaten by crocodiles with teeth like this.” He held his fingers apart to show that the teeth were as large as the one Noadi had shown me, with its carved scene of Izack and his murdered victims. Sinanie continued, “We hunted the wolaup, which was a slow creature with a delicious, fleshy snout and two very large front teeth. The wolaup had the weight of four men. We hunted the ndewé, a wallaby that stood taller than you, Samuel, and had the weight of two men. And then other tribes came over the big water, and they also hunted these animals, until these animals were gone. We had to kill many men so that they would not take the Lamotelokhai’s magic. Finally the other men stopped coming near our village. Those are events that have happened since Matiinuo came into this world.”
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