58 SMITHSONIAN MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTIONS [VOL. 50 



keep the lead. As they entered the village one wheel burst through 

 the side of a hut. Finally both parties threw down their wheels in 

 the public square at nearly the same moment, greeted by the ap- 

 plause of the whole village. They now all retired to partake of their 

 evening feast and left the wheels to be torn apart by the women and 

 children for use as pillows. A feast always ends the game, each 

 party eating separately. 



When about to go on a fishing trip, especially when fish are 

 scarce, or on a hunting expedition, they sing the bakaroro, which 

 seems to be a hymn in praise of the beast or fish that is to be 

 hunted the next day. It is sung within the baehytu after night- 

 fall and several times a week when food is scarce. The good 

 qualities of the animal are named, and how well it will be treated 

 and the use that will be made of it when taken. In this anthem, 

 the man again exhibits his imitative qualities by attempting to 

 reproduce the animal sounds which he has been most accustomed to 

 hear. Frogs and toads are especially favored. While visiting the 

 Kogy ao Paro village, about twenty miles away, we spent a night in 

 the baehytu, and listened to the bakaroro at close quarters. The 

 din, the darkness broken only by the red light of the fire that 

 cooked our beef, the stagnant air, the noise of this squad of human 

 beings reproducing the sound of everything that dwells thereabouts, 

 made one imagine that he had passed from the earthly to the un- 

 earthly. After the bakaroro, the singers went outside the baehytu, 

 and having cleared away the black earth, brought ashes and made 

 animals in relief on the ground, especially the tapir which they were 

 to hunt next day. This is also a tribute of honor to the animals. 

 They also sing the bakaroro in honor of a visitor. As they had 

 seen men hunting on horses and admired this method, they formed 

 a horse in relief with a man mounted on it. 



It is always the man (medo, from meri, the sun) who does the 

 light work, while the woman (areda, from are, the moon) is the 

 beast of burden. She it is who must provide food for the family. 

 Her lord may go fishing or hunting, and if he brings home something, 

 well and good, but if not, he expects to find food on returning to 

 his hut. 



There appears to be no regular marriage ceremony among them. 

 The girl is betrothed before reaching the age of eight or ten, and 

 married at from ten to fourteen or even younger. She becomes 

 betrothed by her would-be husband presenting to her parents a 

 specially fine fish, or some animal whose flesh is much esteemed, 

 he of course having made known in some way what he wishes in re 



