ANCESTOR-WORSHIP AMONG THE FIJIAN S. 67 5 



off, and saw the white ~buli shells gleaming on the roofs of the 

 great dwellings of Nakauvadra ; and he threw away the via roots 

 he was carrying, for he knew that he was near his resting place 

 and would want no more provisions for the journey. So he flung 

 away his via, to travel unencumbered, and to this day you may 

 see the via sprouting where the shades threw it. Going on, the 

 shade had many adventures. He was crippled by Tatovu's axe ; 

 he was wounded by Motoduruka's reed spear; he crawled for- 

 ward on his belly ; he bowed ten times ; he fainted away, and was 

 dragged onward as corpses are dragged to the cannibal ovens ; he 

 had to pinch the " pinching stone " to see whether his nails are 

 long, for if the stone is indented, it is a sign that he was lazy in 

 his lifetime, and that his nails are not worn away by scooping up 

 the yam hills in his plantation. From the " pinching stone " he 

 went onward, dancing and jesting, till he came to Taleya, the 

 Dismisser, who asked him how he died whether by the club, or 

 the strangling cord, or the water, or naturally of disease or old 

 age. And if he said he died of violence, the Dismisser let him 

 journey onward, but if he said that he died naturally, he was 

 commanded to re-enter his body; but not all of these obey, so 

 anxious are they to reach Nakauvadra. Thus the Fijians ex- 

 plained recoveries from trances and epileptic seizures. He goes 

 on through myriad adventures and dangers, and it is entirely out 

 of the question to give them all. One of the most curious is that 

 of the vasa tree at Naililili the " hanging place." From the 

 branches of this tree are hanging the souls of little children, like 

 bats, waiting for their mothers to come and lead them onward, 

 and they cry to the passing shades, " How are my father and my 

 mother ? " If the shade answers, " The cooking fire of your 

 mother is set upright," the child ghost wails aloud, knowing that 

 it must still wait, for its mother is still in her prime ; but if the 

 shade answers," Their hair is gray, and the smoke of their cooking 

 fire hangs along the ground," the child laughs with joy, crying : 

 " It is well ! my mother will soon be here. Oh, let her hasten, for 

 I am weary of waiting for her ! " 



I wish that space permitted me to follow the journey of the 

 Fijian shade to its end. The folklore of a people spontaneously 

 developed and uninfluenced from without will always have an in- 

 terest of its own, because of the light it throws upon the genesis 

 of religions. Many of us have heard of the Fijians as the most 

 striking example of the success of missionary enterprise. Their 

 conversion, however, was in most cases a political move. The 

 chief found it convenient to " lotu," and his people of course fol- 

 lowed him. In one of these cases the missionary attended a meet- 

 ing of the tribe to receive their conversion to Christianity. The 

 heathen priest took his seat near the piled-up feast, and thus ad- 



