low forehead, extremely broad nose, with a much depressed bridge, wide mouth with protruding lips, and a prognathous chin. One day I was struck by the appearance of an exact counterpart to Moradeda, and asked his name and whereabouts. When I was told that he was my friend's elder brother, living in a distant village, I exclaimed: "Ah, truly! I asked about you because your face is alike—alike to that of Moradeda." There came such a hush over all the assembly that I was startled by it at once. The man turned round and left us, while part of the company present, after averting their faces in a manner half-embarrassed, half-offended, soon dispersed. I was then told by my confidential informants that I had committed a breach of custom; that I had perpetrated what is called taputaki migila, a technical expression referring only to this act which might be translated: "To-defile-by-comparing-to-a-kinsman-his-face" (see ch. xiii, sec. 4). What astonished me in this discussion was that, in spite of the striking resemblance between the two brothers, my informants refused to admit it. In fact, they treated the question as if no one could possibly ever resemble his brother, or, for the matter of that, any maternal kinsman. I made my informants quite angry and displeased with me by arguing the point, and even more so by quoting cases of such obvious similarity between two brothers as that which obtained between Namwana Guya'u and Yobukwa'u (pl. 40).
This incident taught me never to hint at such a resemblance in the presence of the people concerned. But I thrashed the matter out with many natives subsequently
