eity,
received the offerings, and thanked the people for them. He decided
also whether or not the people might go to war.

_The offerings_ were principally cooked food. The first cup was in
honour of the god. It was either poured out on the ground or _waved_
towards the heavens. The chiefs all drank a portion out of the same
cup, according to rank; and after that the food brought as an offering
was divided and eaten there before the god. This feast was annual, and
frequently about the month of May. In some places it passed off
quietly; in others it was associated with games, sham-fights,
night-dances, etc., and lasted for days. In time of war special feasts
were ordered by the priests. Of the offerings on war occasions women
and children were forbidden to partake, as it was not their province
to go to battle. They supposed it would bring sickness and death on
the party eating who did not go to the war, and hence were careful to
bury or throw into the sea whatever food was over after the festival.
In some cases the feasts in honour of the god were regulated by the
appearance in the settlement of the bird which was thought to be the
incarnation of the god. Whenever the bird was seen the priest would
say that the god had come, and fix upon a day for his entertainment.

The village gods, like those of the household, had all some particular
incarnation: one was supposed to appear as a bat, another as a heron,
another as an owl. If a man found a dead owl by the roadside, and if
that happened to be the incarnation of his village god, he would sit
down and weep over it, and beat his forehead with stones till the
blood flowed. This was thought pleasing to the deity. Then the bird
would be wrapped up and buried with care and ceremony, as if it were a
human body. This, however, was not the death of the god. He was
supposed to be yet alive, and incarnate in all the owls in existence.
The flight of these birds was observed in time of war. If the bird
flew before them, it was a signal to go on; but if it crossed the
path, it was a bad omen, and a sign to retreat. Others saw their
village god in the rainbow, others saw him in the shooting star; and
in time of war the position of a rainbow and the direction of a
shooting star were always ominous.

The constant dread of the gods, and the numerous and extravagant
demands of a cunning and avaricious priesthood, made the heathenism of
Samoa a hard service.

I have collected and arrang