many precautions in special places in the middle (see Plate XLVII). Then, one after the other, the canoes went off, paddling round the southern end of the island towards the West. At about ten o’clock in the morning, the last canoe disappeared round the promontory, and the village remained practically empty. There was no saying of farewells, not a trace of any emotion on the part of those leaving or those remaining. But it must be remembered that, owing to my presence, no women except one or two old hags, were visible on the shore. All my best informants gone, I intended to move to Nabwageta next morning. At sunset, I made a long excursion in my dinghy round the western shores of Gumasila, and it was on that occasion that I discovered all those who had left that morning on the Kula sitting on Giyasila beach, in accordance with the Kula custom of a preliminary halt, such as the one on Muwa described in Chapter VII.
Next morning, I left for the neighbouring island and village of Nabwageta, and only after he saw me safely off, Tovasana and his party left in his canoe, following the others to Vakuta.
In Nabwageta, the whole community were in the midst of their final preparations for departure, for they intended to wait for the Dobuans and sail with them to Kiriwina. All their canoes were being painted and renovated, a sail was being repaired on the beach (see Plate LIII).
There were some minor distributions of food taking place in the village, the stuff being over and over again allotted and re-allotted, smaller pieces carved out of the big chunks and put into special wrappings. This constant handling of food is one of the most prominent features of tribal life in that part of the world.
As I arrived, a sail for one of the canoes was just being finished by a group of men. In another canoe, I saw them mending the outrigger by attaching the small log of light, dry wood to make the old, waterlogged float more buoyant. I could also watch in detail the final trimming of the canoes, the putting up of the additional frames, of the coco-nut mats, the making of the little cage in the central part for the pots and for the lilava (the sacred bundle), I was, nevertheless, not on sufficiently intimate terms with these Nabwageta natives to be allowed to witness any of the magic.
Their system of mwasila is identical with that of Boyowa, in fact, it is borrowed from there.
Next day—in this village again I had difficulty in finding any good informants, a difficulty increased by the feverish occupation of all the men—I went for a long row in the afternoon with my two ‘boys,’ hoping to reach the island of Domdom. A strong current, which in this part is at places so pronounced that it breaks out into steep, tidal waves, made it impossible to reach our goal. Returning in the dark, my boys suddenly grew alert and excited, like hounds picking up a scent. I could perceive nothing in the dark, but they had discerned two canoes moving westwards. Within about half-an-hour, a fire became visible, twinkling on the beach of a small, deserted island South of Domdom; evidently some Dobuans were camping there. The excitement and intense interest shown by my boys, one a Dobuan, the other from Sariba (Southern Massim), gave me an inkling of the magnitude of this event—the vanguard of a big Kula fleet slowly creeping