The Ambrymese conceptions of the spirit world are very similar to those of other islanders. The native likes to wear on his back or chest or arm the tusks of the most valuable pigs he has sacrificed, and has them buried with him, so that in the other world he may at any time be able to prove how much he respected his ancestors.
The centre of the dancing grounds is generally occupied by the big drums, not quite so numerous but better made than those of Malekula. By the drums, too, the caste of the proprietor may be recognized: the higher his standing, the more heads are carved on them. Horizontal drums are sometimes found, but they are always small, and only serve to accompany the sound of the larger ones.
There are usually a few men sitting round the drums, playing games. One game is played by two men sitting opposite to each other; one sticks a small shell into the ground, and his opponent tries to hit it with another. There does not seem to be any winning or losing, as in our games, but they keep it up for hours and even days. Another favourite game borders on the marvellous. One man has six shells and the other five. Each in turn puts a shell on the ground, and when they have all been dealt, each in turn picks up one at a time, when the one who had six before has five, and the one who had only five has six. They stare at each other, wonder, and try it again; behold, the one who had six at the beginning has five now and the other six. They try again and again, and each time the shell changes hands, and nobody can explain how on earth it could have jumped from one man to the other. It seems too strange to be natural, and while a cold shiver creeps up their backs, they play on and on, with ever new delight and wonder. At such enviable pastimes these people spend their days and kill time, which would otherwise hang heavy on their hands. Tops, nicely made from nuts, are a popular toy; and there are other games, more sportsmanlike, such as throwing reeds to a distance, and throwing wooden shells, at which two villages often compete against each other.
After I had exhausted the surroundings of Dip Point, I marched along the coast to Port Vato, where I lived in an abandoned mission house, in the midst of a thickly populated district. At present, the people are quiet, and go about as they please; but not long ago, the villages lived in a constant state of feud among themselves, so that no man dared go beyond his district alone, and the men had to watch the women while they were at work in the fields, for fear of attack. The sense of insecurity was such that many people who lived in villages only twenty minutes' walk from the coast had never seen the ocean. The population as a whole enjoys the state of peace, which the missionaries have brought about, though there are always mischief-makers who try to create new feuds, and there is no doubt that the old wars would break out anew, if the natives were left to themselves.