titled heads of
families, and one of the higher rank called chiefs. The titles of the
heads of families are not hereditary. The son may succeed to the title
which his father had, but it may be given to an uncle, or a cousin,
and sometimes the son is passed over, and the title given, by common
consent, to a perfect stranger, merely for the sake of drawing him in,
to increase the numerical strength of the family. What I now call a
family is a combined group of sons, daughters, uncles, cousins,
nephews, nieces, etc., and may number fifty individuals. They have one
large house, as a common rendezvous, and for the reception of
visitors, and four or five other houses, all near each other.

The chiefs, on the other hand, are a most select class, whose pedigree
is traced most carefully in the traditionary genealogies to the
ancient head of some particular clan. One is chosen to bear the title,
but there may be other individuals, who trace their origin to the
same stock, call themselves chiefs too, and any of whom may succeed to
the title on the death of the one who bears it. A chief, before he
dies, may name some one to succeed him, but the final decision rests
with the heads of families as to which of the members of the chief
family shall have the title and be regarded as the village chief. In
some cases the greater part of a village is composed of parties who
rank as chiefs, but, as a general rule, it consists of certain
families of the more common order, which we have just mentioned, and
some titled chief, to whom the village looks up as their political
head and protector. It is usual, in the courtesies of common
conversation, for all to call each other chiefs. If you listen to the
talk of little boys even, you will hear them addressing each other as
_chief_ this, that, and the other thing. Hence, I have heard a
stranger remark, that the difficulty in Samoa is, not to find who is a
chief, but to find out who is a common man.

As the chief can call to his aid, in any emergency, other chiefs
connected with the same ancient stock from which he has sprung, and as
he looks upon the entire village as his children, and feels bound to
avenge their wrongs, it is thought essential to have some such head in
every settlement. If anything in the clubbing way is to be done, no
one but the chief, or his brother, or his son, dare do it. With few
exceptions, he moves about, and shares in every-day employments, just
like a common man. He g