When we pass from Australia to New Guinea we find that, though the natives stand at a far higher level of culture than the Austral-
ian aborigines, the constitution of society among them is still essentially democratic or oligarchic, and chieftainship exists only in
embryo. Thus Sir William MacGregor tells us that in British New Guinea no one has ever arisen wise enough, bold enough, and
strong enough to become the despot even of a single district. "The nearest approach to this has been the very distant one of some
person becoming a renowned wizard; but that has only resulted in levying a certain amount of blackmail."
According to a native account, the origin of the power of Melanesian chiefs lies entirely in the belief that they have communication with mighty ghosts, and wield that supernatural power whereby they can bring the influence of the ghosts to bear. If a chief imposed a fine, it was paid because the people universally dreaded his ghostly power, and firmly believed that he could inflict calamity and sickness upon such as resisted him. As soon as any considerable number of his people began to disbelieve in his influence with the ghosts, his power to levy fines was shaken. Again, Dr. George Brown tells us that in New Britain "a ruling chief was always supposed to exercise priestly functions, that is, he professed to be in constant communication with the tebarans (spirits), and through
their influence he was enabled to bring rain or sunshine, fair winds or foul ones, sickness or health, success or disaster in war, and generally to procure any blessing or curse for which the applicant was willing to pay a sufficient price."
Still rising in the scale of culture we come to Africa, where both the chieftainship and the kingship are fully developed; and here the
evidence for the evolution of the chief out of the magician, and especially out of the rain-maker, is comparatively plentiful. Thus
among the Wambugwe, a Bantu people of East Africa, the original form of government was a family republic, but the enormous
power of the sorcerers, transmitted by inheritance, soon raised them to the rank of petty lords or chiefs. Of the three chiefs living
in the country in 1894 two were much dreaded as magicians, and the wealth of cattle they possessed came to them almost wholly
in the shape of presents bestowed for their services in that capacity. Their principal art was that of rain-making. The chiefs of the
Wataturu, another people of East Africa, are said to be nothing but sorcerers destitute of any direct political influence. Again, among
the Wagogo of East Africa the main power of the chiefs, we are told, is derived from their art of rain-making. If a chief cannot
make rain himself, he must procure it from some one who can.
Again, among the tribes of the Upper Nile the medicine-men are generally the chiefs. Their authority rests above all upon their
supposed power of making rain, for "rain is the one thing which matters to the people in those districts, as if it does not come
down at the right time it means untold hardships for the community. It is therefore small wonder that men more cunning than their
fellows should arrogate to themselves the power of producing it, or that having gained such a reputation, they should trade on the
credulity of their simpler neighbours." Hence "most of the chiefs of these tribes are rain-makers, and enjoy a popularity in propor-
tion to their powers to give rain to their people at the proper season... . Rain-making chiefs always build their villages on the slopes
of a fairly high hill, as they no doubt know that the hills attract the clouds, and that they are, therefore, fairly safe in their weather
forecasts." Each of these rain-makers has a number of rain-stones, such as rock-crystal, aventurine, and amethyst, which he keeps
in a pot. When he wishes to produce rain he plunges the stones in water, and taking in his hand a peeled cane, which is split at the
top, he beckons with it to the clouds to come or waves them away in the way they should go, muttering an incantation the while. Or
he pours water and the entrails of a sheep or goat into a hollow in a stone and then sprinkles the water towards the sky. Though the
chief acquires wealth by the exercise of his supposed magical powers, he often, perhaps generally, comes to a violent end; for in time
of drought the angry people assemble and kill him, believing that it is he who prevents the rain from falling. Yet the office is usually
hereditary and passes from father to son. Among the tribes which cherish these beliefs and observe these customs are the Latuka,
Bari, Laluba, and Lokoiya.
In Central Africa, again, the Lendu tribe, to the west of Lake Albert, firmly believe that certain people possess the power of making
rain. Among them the rain-maker either is a chief or almost invariably becomes one. The Banyoro also have a great respect for the
dispensers of rain, whom they load with a profusion of gifts. The great dispenser, he who has absolute and uncontrollable power
over the rain, is the king; but he can depute his power to other persons, so that the benefit may be distributed and the heavenly water
laid on over the various parts of the kingdom.
In Western as well as in Eastern and Central Africa we meet with the same union of chiefly with magical functions. Thus in the Fan tribe the strict distinction between chief and medicine-man does not exist. The chief is also a medicine-man and a smith to boot; for the Fans esteem the smith's craft sacred, and none but chiefs may meddle with it.
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As to the relation between the offices of chief and rain-maker in South Africa a well-informed writer observes: "In very old days
the chief was the great Rain-maker of the tribe. Some chiefs allowed no one else to compete with them, lest a successful Rain-maker
should be chosen as chief. There was also another reason: the Rain-maker was sure to become a rich man if he gained a great reputa-
tion, and it would manifestly never do for the chief to allow any one to be too rich. The Rain-maker exerts tremendous control over
the people, and so it would be most important to keep this function connected with royalty. Tradition always places the power of
making rain as the fundamental glory of ancient chiefs and heroes, and it seems probable that it may have been the origin of chief-
tainship. The man who made the rain would naturally become the chief. In the same way Chaka [the famous Zulu despot] used to
declare that he was the only diviner in the country, for if he allowed rivals his life would be insecure." Similarly speaking of the South
African tribes in general, Dr. Moffat says that "the rain-maker is in the estimation of the people no mean personage, possessing an
influence over the minds of the people superior even to that of the king, who is likewise compelled to yield to the dictates of this
arch-official."
The foregoing evidence renders it probable that in Africa the king has often been developed out of the public magician, and espe-
cially out of the rain-maker. The unbounded fear which the magician inspires and the wealth which he amasses in the exercise of his
profession may both be supposed to have contributed to his promotion. But if the career of a magician and especially of a rain-
maker offers great rewards to the successful practitioner of the art, it is beset with many pitfalls into which the unskilful or unlucky
artist may fall. The position of the public sorcerer is indeed a very precarious one; for where the people firmly believe that he has it
in his power to