You may be interested in the death and burial rite of the Fijians. Everything of any importance in Fiji must be attended with great feasting, as this is the only way, they say, in which they can show their love and affection.
A FAMILY OF FIJIANS
Several days before death takes place, large numbers of the friends will crowd into the house, anxiously waiting for the end. No more fitting illustration occurs to the writer's mind, than the vultures watching the lagging steps of some animal near death's door. When the individual breathes his last, immediately a howl is set up, lasting for a short time. Then preparations are begun for the feast while the person is being prepared for burial.
The common method of burial is to dress the corpse in its best, placing with it many of its belongings, such as a Bible, or a lamp, or a sewing-machine, etc. Then they wrap the body up in many mats, lastly cording it with their native rope. It is then carried in the hands of four or more men, or placed upon two sticks and carried upon the shoulders, to the burial-ground, which is generally only thirty or forty rods from the town. Here a hole is dug in the ground about three feet deep and as long as the corpse. A mat lines the bottom and sides, upon which the dead is laid.
The service is conducted much the same as in European countries. Then the earth is filled in and mounded over. This accomplished, all retire to the house, where they feast and revel. Large amounts of yaqona, the native grog, is drunk.
Very little sorrow is manifested; but, on the other hand, a great deal of laughter and joking. In fact, one would be made to think that they are glad when some one dies.
Ten days later another feast is made, when the grave is built up with special stones and anointed with oil. At the end of the year another feast is given, and sometimes at the end of five years. Upon many of the graves may be seen lanterns or cups and saucers.
How cruel a master is tradition, and how many a string on the human harp of affection has it broken. Yet the multitude seem to love to have it so. True are the words which old Thomas Tyron wrote more than two hundred years ago: ‘He that follows the multitude has a knave for a master and a fool for a tutor.’
Like Europeans, all think they are going directly to heaven when they die, though they may be the darkest-dyed sinners. O, that their eyes might be opened to understand the awfulness of death, and that it is an enemy's hand!
