These details, as well as the following ones, I received from an intelligent and reliable Kitavan informant, who has settled in Sinaketa. He told me that according to the importance of the death, and the speed with which the goods were accumulating after a year or so, word would be sent round to all the partners and muri-muri (partners once removed).
“When all are assembled,” my informant told me, “the *sagali* (distribution) begins. They *sagali* first *kaulo* (yam food), then *bulukwa* (pig). When pig is plentiful it would be given in halves; when not, it will be quartered. A big heap of yam food, of coco-nut, betel-nut, and banana would be placed for each canoe. Side by side with this row, a row of pig meat would be placed. One man calls out for the yam heaps, another for the pig-meat; the name of each canoe is called out. If it were a whole pig, they would say, ‘*To’uluwa kam visibala!*’ (To’uluwa, your whole pig)! Otherwise they would call out, ‘*Mililuta, kami bulukwa!*’ (Men of Liluta, your pig). And again, ‘*Mililuta, kami gogula!*’ (Men of Liluta, your heap). They take it, take their heap to their canoe. There, the *toliwaga* (master of the canoe) would make another small *sagali*. Those, who live near by, singe their meat, and carry it home in their canoes. Those who live far away, roast the pig, and eat it on the beach.”
It will be noted that the supreme chief’s name would be uttered when his and his companion’s share is allotted. With the shares of men of less importance, the name of the village is called out. As on all such occasions, the strangers do not eat their food in public, and even its re-distribution is done in the privacy of their camping place near the canoe.
After the distribution of the food, and of course before this is taken away by the parties, the master of the so’i goes into his house and takes out a specially good piece of valuable. With a blast of the conch shell, he gives it to the most distinguished of his partners present. Others follow his example, and soon the village is filled with conch shell blasts, and all the members of the community are busy presenting gifts to their partners. First, the initial gifts (vaga) are given, and only after this is over, such valuables as have been due of old to their partners, and which have to be given as clinching gifts (yotile) are handed over.
After the whole public distribution is finished and the guests have gone, the members of the sub-clan who organised it, at sunset make a small distribution of their own, called kaymelu. With that the so’i and the whole period of mourning and of consecutive distributions, is over. I have said before that this account of the so’i has been obtained only through the statements of several informants, one especially very clear and reliable. But it has not been checked by personal observation, and as is always the case with such material, there is no guarantee of its being complete.
From the point of view in which it interests us, however, that is, in connection with the Kula, the outstanding fact is well established; a mortuary taboo temporarily holds up the flow of Kula goods, and a big quantity of valuables thus dammed up, is suddenly let loose by the so’i and spreads in a big wave along the circuit. The big wave of armshells, for instance, which travelled along and was taken up by the uvalaku expedition of the Dobuans, was the ripple of a so’i feast, held one or two months previously at full moon in Yanabwa, a village of Woodlark Island. When I was leaving Boyowa, in September, 1918, a mortuary taboo was in force in the Island of Yeguma, or Egum, as it is pronounced in the Eastern district (the Alcester Islands of the map). Kwaywaya, the chief of Kitava whom I met on his visit in Sinaketa, told me that the people of Yeguma had sent him a sprouting coco-nut, with the message: “When its leaves develop, we shall sagali (make