COOK] BORORO INDIANS OF MATTO GROSSO, BRAZIL 5/ 



village, form a chain across the stream and make a great commotion 

 and drive the fish downstream to a point near the village where 

 another gang with sack nets awaits to bag the game. Sometimes 

 they fish at dead of night, but as a rule they rarely leave the village 

 after dark except in war. 



Eate one cloudy afternoon we had the pleasure of seeing the Bororo 



play Mano, the name of the small banana-like plant used in this 



game. It seems to be a close imitation of some of the performances 



of ants. Indeed, the imitating of nature occupies a large part of the 



Bororo life. Early in the day they went up the river and cut many 



of these plants, which grow three or four feet high, floated them 



down on rude bamboo rafts, carried them to a point about 600 yards 



from the village, and placed them in two piles, one for each of the 



two parties into which every village is divided — the Xeraede and the 



Ta Nagarede. Each group prepared its material by cutting off the 



tops of the mano, leaving a spongy stem about eighteen inches long, 



and when all was ready each made its pile into a huge wheel. This 



was done by two men for each wheel standing face to face, about five 



and a half feet apart, with two long, strong, parallel cords between 



them, reaching from the ground up over their shoulders, for binding 



the material into a wheel. The mano was then piled in between each 



pair of Indians acting as posts, and when the weight pressed too 



heavily upon them, they were supported by other Indians leaning 



against them, back to back. When the mano was all in place the 



cords were drawn over the top and tightened. The wheels were next 



laid flat on the ground and a string of men pulled with all their 



strength on each of the four ends of the cord for each wheel, while 



others pounded the spongy mass so close that it could not burst. 



Each wheel was again set upright to be seized and hurried off in the 



mad race for the village. But the Bororo must do things decently 



and in order, so a Ta Nagareda man, with much ceremony steps 



quickly over to the Xeraede, takes a man by the wrist, trots him 



around his wheel and stops in front of it, meaning by this that his 



wheel is delivered to its party, and the same ceremony is repeated by 



the other side. Each man who has now been presented to his wheel 



and his wheel to him, politely introduces others of his own party 



just as he himself was introduced, until all surround their own 



wheels. At a given signal each group seizes its wheel, throws it up 



on its shoulders, and runs pell mell in a race to the village. Each 



squad of these human ants tries to keep its wheel upright as it sags 



this way and that, or finally rolls over on the carriers, to be quickly 



straightened up, and rushed along again, each crowd endeavoring to 



