on till they come to
Naindelinde, one of the highest peaks of the Kauvandra mountains. Here
the path ends abruptly on the brink of a precipice, the foot of which is
washed by a deep lake. Over the edge of the precipice projects a large
steer-oar, and the handle is held either by the great god Ndengei
himself or, according to the better opinion, by his deputy. When a ghost
comes up and peers ruefully over the precipice, the deputy accosts him.
"Under what circumstances," he asks, "do you come to us? How did you
conduct yourself in the other world?" Should the ghost be a man of rank,
he may say, "I am a great chief. I lived as a chief, and my conduct was
that of a chief. I had great wealth, many wives, and ruled over a
powerful people. I have destroyed many towns, and slain many in war."
"Good, good," says the deputy, "just sit down on the blade of that oar,
and refresh yourself in the cool breeze." If the ghost is unwary enough
to accept the invitation, he has no sooner seated himself on the blade
of the oar with his legs dangling over the abyss, than the deputy-deity
tilts up the other end of the oar and precipitates him into the deep
water, far far below. A loud smack is heard as the ghost collides with
the water, there is a splash, a gurgle, a ripple, and all is over. The
ghost has gone to his account in Murimuria, a very second-rate sort of
heaven, if it is nothing worse. But a ghost who is in favour with the
great god Ndengei is warned by him not to sit down on the blade of the
oar but on the handle. The ghost takes the hint and seats himself firmly
on the safe end of the oar; and when the deputy-deity tries to heave it
up, he cannot, for he has no purchase. So the ghost remains master of
the situation, and after an interval for refreshment is sent back to
earth to be deified.[781]

[Sidenote: Murimuria, an inferior sort of heaven. The Fijian Elysium.]

In Murimuria, which, as I said, is an inferior sort of heaven, the
departed souls by no means lead a life of pure and unmixed enjoyment.
Some of them are punished for the sins they committed in the flesh. But
the Fijian notion of sin differs widely from ours. Thus we saw that the
ghosts of men who did no murder in their lives were punished for their
negligence by having to pound muck with clubs. Again, people who had not
their ears bored on earth are forced in Hades to go about for ever
bearing on their shoulders one of the logs of wood on which bark-cloth
is beate