WHOLE VOL. ARAUCANIAN CHILD LIFE — HILGER 283 



best." Usually, however, the child was given the name of a relative, 

 often of a departed grandparent, aunt, or uncle. A son was not in- 

 frequently given his deceased father's name. 



Either the father announced the child's name or, if he did not, one 

 of the grandmothers did so. "But what really attached the name to 

 the child was the presence of the people who had been invited and 

 who were celebrating the event thereby." Always an abundant meal 

 was served to all present. No prayers were said, and there was prob- 

 ably no ceremony connected specifically with the bestowal of the 

 name. The katawe, it seems, was more closely associated with the 

 piercing of the ears (cf. p. 272). 



The origin of Araucanian names was not known to informants. 

 "We gave our children the names that already existed; from where 

 these came no one living today knows," said the oldest woman in- 

 formant. "I called my oldest son Waikillaqka ; that was the name 

 of my deceased grandfather. But how the name originated, or why 

 my grandfather was so called, I do not know." 



Feminine names differed from masculine ones — "just as they do 

 in Spanish" — for the simple reason that they had always been given 

 to women. "No one would think of giving my mother's mother's 

 name, Paise, to a boy, any more than you would think of giving the 

 name Elizabeth to one of your boys." 



Some names lent themselves to translation ; others did not. Paise 

 had no meaning. fTamkuche and fJanci, exclusively feminine names, 

 meant, respectively, "condor person" or "condor people," and a kind of 

 herb. Exclusively masculine names were Llarjkape (green stone for- 

 merly used for magic purposes), Treopan (spinning-top lion), 

 Panijfilu (blue snake), Cheuquepan (ostrich lion), and Waikillaqka 

 (point of a stone, like the spearhead of a lance). 



The given name of a woman was generally not used when speaking 

 of her. She was spoken of as "my mother," "my mother's mother," 

 etc. In some instances, therefore, close relatives did not know a 

 woman's name. A 25-year-old informant did not know the Arau- 

 canian name of her mother, who was 65 years old. 



SURNAMES, NICKNAMES 



Until recent years there were no surnames. "Formerly no one had 

 two names ; no one had a family name like they make us use today." 

 Today every child has a surname, and so do all adults, except very 

 old ones. Surnames originated in several ways. The first surnames 

 were probably those given men when they were conscripted into the 



