The Fijians conceive that the way to Buruto, or Heaven, is impeded by many
difficulties, except for the great chiefs, and that, therefore, the only certain plan
for a man of inferior rank is to impose upon the god with a lie,—declaring
himself to be a chief with so much earnestness that the god believes him, and
allows him to pass! Probably in no other creed is admission to heaven made to
depend upon a lie! With his war club and a whale’s tooth on his shoulder, the
spirit journeys to the world’s end. There grows the sacred pine, at which the
spirit hurls his whale’s tooth. If he miss the mark, his journey comes to an abrupt
termination; if he hit it, he travels onward until he reaches the spot where the
spirits of the women murdered at his death await his arrival.
With these faithful attendants he goes forward, but is opposed by a god called
Ravuyalo, against whom he employs his club. If he be defeated, the god kills and
eats him; if he conquer, he again goes forward until he falls in with a canoe.
Embarking, he is conveyed to the celestial heights where dwells the supreme
god, Ndengei. Over the brink of the cliff stretches the long-steering oar of the
god’s canoe. He is asked his name and rank, and to this inquiry he replies with a
detailed and very imaginative recital of his greatness and opulence, the heroic
deeds he has achieved, the devastation he has effected, and the realms over
which he has ruled. He is then commanded to seat himself on the blade of the
oar, and, if his story have met with credence, he is borne aloft into Buruto; if
Ndengei disbelieves it, the oar is tilted up, and he is hurled down for ever into
the watery depths of blackness.
Bachelors are not admitted into Buruto, because as we have stated, the spirit
waits for his wives, to prove that he is married. And if an unmarried man venture
on the journey, a goddess called the Great Woman, throws herself in his way.
She bears towards bachelors an implacable hatred, and no sooner sees one than
she springs upon him and tears him to pieces. In her haste she sometimes misses
him; but even then he has to contend against another god, who conceals himself
by the side of the path, and as the bachelor spirit passes by, leaps upon him, and
dashes him against a stone.
There is a ghastliness about the funeral ceremonies of the Fijians which far
surpasses even the dreary desolation of those in vogue among ourselves.
In common with several other savage tribes they hold that men and women who
have grown decrepit and infirm have lived their lives, and should withdraw from
this world of activity. Accordingly though they may be neither dead nor dying,
preparations are made for their interment. And it seems that the moribund