The argument drawn from the instrument made with sharks’ teeth, and which is nearly of the same form with those used at New Zealand for cutting up the bodies of their enemies, is much more difficult to controvert. I believe it to be an undoubted fact, that this knife, if it may be so called, is never used by them in cutting the flesh of other animals. However, as the custom of offering human sacrifices, and of burning the bodies of the slain, is still prevalent here, it is not improbable that the use of this instrument is retained in those ceremonies. Upon the whole, I am strongly inclined to think, and particularly from this last circumstance, that the horrid practice in question, has but lately ceased amongst these and other islands of the South Sea. Omai, when pressed on this subject, confessed that in the rage and fury of revenge, they would sometimes tear the flesh of their enemies that were slain with their teeth; but positively denied that they ever eat it. This was certainly approaching as near the fact as could be; but, on the other hand, the denial is a strong proof that the practice has actually ceased; since in New Zealand, where it still exists, the inhabitants neyer made the smallest scruple of confessing it.[7]
The inhabitants of these islands differ from those of the Friendly Isles, in suffering, almost universally, their beards to grow. There were indeed a few, amongst whom was the old king, that cut it off entirely; and others that wore it only upon the upper lip. The same variety, in the manner of wearing the hair, is also observable here, as among the other islanders of the South Sea; besides which, as far as we know, they have a fashion peculiar to themselves. They cut it close on each side the head, down to the ears, leaving a ridge of about a small hand’s breadth, running from the forehead to the neck; which, when the hair is thick and curling, has the form of the crest of the ancient helmet. Others wear large quantities of false hair, flowing down their backs in long ringlets, like the figure of the inhabitants of Horn Island, as seen in Dalrymple’s Voyages; and others, again, tie it into a single round bunch on the top of the head, almost as large as the head itself, and some into five or six distinct bunches. They daub their hair with a grey clay, mixed with powdered shells, which they keep in balls, and chew into a kind of soft paste, when they have occasion to make use of it. This keeps the hair smooth, and in time changes it to a pale yellow colour.