Volume 81 1972 > Volume 81, No. 1 > Easter Island's position in the prehistory of Polynesia, by Kenneth P. Emory, p 57-69
EASTER ISLAND'S POSITION IN THE PREHISTORY OF POLYNESIA
Easter Island now occupies a position of key importance in the effort to reconstruct the prehistory of Polynesia. Besides representing the farthest extension into the Pacific Ocean of Polynesian language and culture, its minuteness and extreme isolation far to windward of the rest of Polynesia render phenomenal its early attainment and settlement by Polynesians. The linguistic evidence that its language split off from Proto-East-Polynesian before Hawaiian and Maori, 1 and evidence provided by radiocarbon and obsidian dates, 2 point to its settlement by A.D. 500. Moreover, because of the great difficulty of access, it is not likely to have been reached more than once from Polynesia. Its culture, therefore, may very well represent the potential, in the first millennium of our era, of the equipage and cargo of a single Polynesian ocean-going vessel for discovering and settling a new land.
Easter Island has long been thought to lie in the path of westward winds and currents favourable to craft drifting or sailing from South America, but Voitov and Tumarkin 3 have recently pointed out that while the South Equatorial Current and the south-eastern trade winds favour drift voyages from some areas of South America to the Tuamotus and the Marquesas, they do not favour them to Easter Island. Also, the island is as remote from South America as it is from Polynesia and we have no reason to believe that, at the time of the Polynesian settlement of Easter Island, South American Indians had the capacity to transplant themselves and their domesticated plants and animals over such a great distance. Furthermore, for both Polynesians and American Indians, the possibility of returning from Easter Island to the homeland and then coming back to or directing others to this speck of land can be dismissed as beyond their capability. One has to be credulous indeed to believe the tales which Indian sages furnished eager early Spanish listeners to the effect that pre-Columbian Peruvians were familiar with the precise - 58 position in bearing and distance of Easter Island as well as Mangareva. 4 It is altogether a different matter to voyage between archipelagos, such as the Hawaiian and Tahitian, where opposing winds and currents are minimal and the target is several hundred miles wide. 5
Nevertheless, the very remote chance that Easter Island may have been come upon by a raft from Peru after Polynesian settlement should not be completely set aside. There are some cultural parallels which, on the surface, could possibly have resulted from Peruvian influence. A critical study of these, especially when a time scale is brought into consideration, shows that any direct South American cultural influence on Easter Island (if it existed at all) could only have modified its Polynesian culture in some details.
According to Heyerdahl, 6 the possibility of South American influence on Easter Island culture was first presented seriously when J. L. Palmer, surgeon on the English battleship Topaze which visited Easter Island in 1868, gave a lecture before the Royal Geographical Society in London in 1870. His remarks aroused comment from Sir Clements Markham, an authority on early Andean history, to the effect that at Tiahuanaco there were ruins of platforms, similar to those on Easter Island, upon which were statues resembling, to a certain extent, those on Easter Island.
It is the precise fitting of the large facing blocks of such Easter Island ceremonial platforms as that of Ahu Vinapu I which has fortified belief in Andean influence. However, the Easter Island ahus conform to the tradition and plan of East Polynesian maraes and not of Andean temples. On the conjecture that Ahu Vinapu I was older than Vinapu II, because it occupied the more favourable of the two adjacent sites, 7 Heyerdahl 8 has its fitted-block facing technique antedate the rougher, typically East Polynesian, vertical-slab facing of Ahu Vinapu II. But J. Golson, 9 in his penetrating analysis of the archeological records of Heyerdahl's Norwegian Archaeological Expedition to Easter Island, discovered evidence that Vinapu I has incorporated in its foundation a chamfered slab which is possibly from Vinapu II. 10 Furthermore, the radiocarbon date of A.D. 850 ± 200 11 from charcoal under one of the earth walls of Vinapu II, also argues for an earlier age than Vinapu I, 12 from which we have an earliest radiocarbon date of A.D. 1450 ± 100. 13
William Mulloy, in the process of restoring Ahu Akivi in 1960, obtained a radiocarbon date of A.D. 1455 ± 100 from charcoal underneath it. 14 This structure, which had a facade of precisely fitted blocks as exemplified in Vinapu I, reveals that such masonry was being used after A.D. 1400, and provides further evidence that this facing appeared later in ahu history than the rougher, vertical-slab Polynesian-type facing of Vinapu II. - 59 Heyerdahl's contrary assumption is thus seen to be without foundation.
Carlyle Smith, in his report for the expedition, says of this court at Vinapu II: “The discovery of the enclosed court at Vinapu, and its identification with the Early Period reveals, then, a hitherto unrecognised relationship at an early period between Easter Island and cultural centers farther to the west.” 15 From his observations while passing Temoe Island in the Mangarevan group, Smith was moved to remark: “The writer, seeing the structures through binoculars, was struck by the resemblances of the marae of Toa-maora to the ahu of the Early Period on Easter Island as revealed by excavation. The central portion of Ahu Tepeu I (also of the Polynesian-type facing) came to mind immediately.” 16
A further resemblance between the early ahus of Easter Island and East Polynesian maraes is that maraes were shrines to family ancestral gods. Representations of these gods occupied seated positions along the back of the long narrow platform which served as a raised seat facing a rectangular court. Coastal platforms were usually parallel to the shore. Orientation towards the rising or setting sun was probably incidental or coincidental. Adjacent to East Polynesian maraes were pits for disposal of remains of offerings and sacred paraphernalia. The crematoriums near the Easter Island ahus are a probable parallel. Let us not forget, also, that the raised platform of the marae of East Polynesia was called ahu or tu-ahu, and in the northern Marquesas the sacred structures, as on Easter Island, were termed ahu. In both, great skill was demonstated in dressing and fitting stone. Moreover, the perfected masonry of the Vinapu I platforms would not have been beyond the skill of Polynesians who had already mastered the technique of precisely fitting and shaping planks for their canoe hulls.
E. P. Lanning of Columbia University, a specialist in Peruvian archaeology, has pointed out that Heyerdahl's choice of the Tiahuanaco Empire as the original source of the Polynesian population runs up against insuperable problems of geography and chronology. He bases his argument on historical evidence and the well-known pattern of winds and currents. He says: “The Tiahuanaco presence on the Andean coast is limited to northern Chile and south-western Peru . . . far south of the area where the ancient inhabitants had the physical equipment and environmental possibility of making long voyages into the Pacific.” 17 He adds: “Mortarless polygonal-block masonry on Easter Island and in Cuzco would be meaningful only if the Polynesian case could be shown to date after A.D. 1440, when the technique had its inception in Peru”. 18 The latest radiocarbon dates obtained from Easter Island tend to support the likelihood that settlement was before A.D. 500. Further, the appearance of closely fitted stone blocks in the facing of the great ceremonial platforms was achieved by A.D. 1200, as indicated by the dates obtained for Ahu ko te Riku, Ahu Tahai, and Ahu Vinapu I. 19- 60
Golson has also taken a careful look at the Easter Island fishhooks and their provenience, as described in the detailed reports of the Norwegian expedition. He finds that they are not only typically Polynesian, but also represent a continuity dating back at least to the time of the crematorium of Vinapu I. This structure yielded 19 fragments of hooks recognisable as to form, besides charred bones which have yielded a radiocarbon date of A.D. 1220 ± 200. 20 Golson concludes: “On balance the evidence of the fishhooks may be said to argue against any significant non-Polynesian element in Easter Island culture. Fishhooks, however, are a single item in a cultural inventory and not an indispensable one. We badly need the evidence of other items and the adzes may be very important in this regard.” 21
We now have sufficient adze evidence.
Of the 167 adzes or adze pieces collected at the Vinapu centre, about half seem to be unfinished adzes or rejects, and only those found within the ahus of Vinapu I and Vinapu II could be assigned a chronological position with any degree of certainty: Using the divisions adopted by the Norwegian Expedition, 22 two can be assigned to the Early, 15 to the Middle, and 18 to the Late Period. Of the completed adzes, most were crudely finished and all were more or less rectangular. Only two, and this is significant, were finished by pecking and had smoothly rounded contours. One of these was a surface find; the other (Fig. 41, m), was found at a depth of 35 cm in the rubble of the central platform of Vinapu Ahu II. The latter specimen may thus be attributed to the time of the building of this ahu and its presence therefore suggests an early knowledge of this adze form, which is also closely represented in the early adzes of the Marquesas 23.
From sites other than at the Vinapu centre, not more than 20 adzes were noted and only three were significantly placed. The most important was an untanged, plano-convex adze 24 in the prehistoric level (Zone 1) of Puapau cave. An obsidian chip from this cave was dated A.D. 1348. 25 This plano-convex adze is a prominent form in the early adzes of East and West Polynesia. At Poike ditch, a rough, untanged adze, lenticular in cross-section 26 was found below the zone of intensive burning, which was dated A.D. 1670 ± 100. 27
With the publication of the description of 675 Easter Island adzes by Gonzalo Figueroa and Eduardo Sanchez, 28 we can now familiarise ourselves with a very substantial sample of adzes made by the inhabitants of Easter Island. Through comparisons, the authors conclude at the end of the study:
The local predominance of Type 2-A (quadrangular cross-section, untanged) indicates Eastern Polynesian relationships, but the Easter - 61 Island adze complex as a whole cannot be compared satisfactorily with that of any particular locality. At present, only the Marquesas demonstrate enough similarities to suggest a specific relationship . . . . The existence in the Marquesas of the most characteristic and intensively pecked Easter Island type may indicate that this rare Marquesan type (4-D quadrangular, round edges, untanged) was introduced into Easter Island, where it persisted as an important adze form, while the technique associated with it (pecking) became gradually more generalized . . . . Were further investigations to show that Type 4-D and the Easter Island adze complex in general, correspond to a very early stage in the Eastern Polynesian cultural history, the above tentative inferences would require considerable revision. 29
Now, thanks to the knowledge of the early types of Marquesan adzes gained through the excavations on Uahuka in the Northern Marquesas by Yosihiko Sinoto, it is known that Easter Island adzes correspond to those of a very early stage in Eastern Polynesian adze culture and that this stage was present in the Marquesas, as well as in the Society Islands, Samoa, and Tonga. 30 The comparative studies which have now been made show that, 31 the Easter Island adze culture was apparently isolated before the development of the fully tanged adzes of the rest of East Polynesia, and that the Easter Island quadrangular-oval, pecked adze with a deep groove over the butt was a local and later innovation. Certainly, if ever there had been a previous occupation of Easter Island by Andeans, adzes distinctive of their culture would have been represented among the 675 adzes studied by Figueroa and Sanchez and the 113 adzes at Bishop Museum, and Gonzales and Sanchez, as South American archaeologists, would have spotted them. These adzes, therefore, testify to a completely Polynesian early occupation of Easter Island.
The Polynesian language spoken by the Easter Islanders has been identified as belonging to the language subgroup known as Eastern Polynesian. 32 The preservation on Easter Island of a proto-Polynesian glottal still heard in the Tongan area in West Polynesia but lost in the other branches of the Eastern Polynesian subgroup, is one of the reasons for considering the Easter Island language to have been isolated from the rest of East Polynesia before the Hawaiian and Maori languages. As yet, there is no reliable evidence to suggest that the Easter Island Polynesian language came in contact with a non-Polynesian language spoken on the island. Its large number of local words and meanings is no greater than would be expected without such influence.
Heyerdahl, however, regards these local words as non-Polynesian and, typically, is quite ready to ascribe them to an “alien substratum in the Polynesian language on Easter Island.” 33 He cites the list of words for the numerals 1 to 10 obtained by the Spaniards in 1770, but Metraux had already shown that Cook's expedition in 1774, four years later, had ob- - 62 tained the correct words which reflected precisely the proto-Polynesian list. 34 The Spaniards were greatly disadvantaged in their six days on Easter Island by not having anyone familiar with a Polynesian language, whereas the Cook expedition had the advantage of communicating through a Tahitian on board, Otiti, “who understood their language much better than us”. 35 “Right or wrong,” Metraux concludes, “the list of numbers of Aguera's vocabulary does not give any new evidence for the existence of two cultures on Easter Island.” 36
As proof that an ocean voyage must have taken place in early aboriginal times between the Andean area and Easter Island, Heyerdahl submits the presence of the reed, totora (Scirpus riparius), a South American variety growing nowhere else in Polynesia. 37 Presumably the claim is based on the statement of botanist Dr Skottsberg: “A direct transport of seeds across the ocean without man's assistance is difficult to imagine . . . .” 38
An analysis of the pollen deposits in borings made by the Norwegian Expedition in bogs surrounding the crater lakes disclosed the presence of tavai (Polygonum acuminatus) with associated deposits of decomposed totora reeds in levels where soot particles began to appear, presumably, we are told, as the result of clearing adjacent land by burning a then existing forest. 39 However, all that is certain from his statement is that these plants existed at this time. No analysis of the borings is provided that would indicate when totora and tavai first appeared.
Heyerdahl has said that for Dr Skottsberg: “an aboriginal human introduction of at least these two South American aquatic species would greatly ease the difficult problem of transplantation in pre-European times.” 40 Yet, there are other South American-shared wild plants which present the same botanical problems of origin. They are the sedge (Cyperus vegetus), which also grows on the edges of the crater lakes, a shrub (Lycium carolinianum) and the unique toromiro tree (Sophora toromiro), which has its nearest relative in adjacent South America. 41
How can we be sure that all these were not growing in Easter Island hundreds of years before the appearance of man?
It is highly significant that the Polynesian name for Scirpus sp. is the same in Hawaii as in Easter Island, being nga'atu at Easter Island and nanaku in Hawaii. The Hawaiian form of the word is a later equivalent of nga'atu, as is seen by taking into consideration the regular sound shifts which linguists have been able to determine. This can only mean that the word was carried from a common homeland where a similar reed must have been present, and that the branching to Easter Island took place before the branching to Hawaii. This also means that Scirpus sp. was already growing in East Polynesia before settlement by the Polynesians, - 63 because no evidence has yet been produced proving that a non-Polynesian population preceded the Polynesian.
As a cultigen introduced in pre-European times directly from South America, Heyerdahl lists the Chili pepper, on the statement of Gonzales with the Spanish Expedition of 1770 that two natives in a canoe brought out sweet potatoes, bananas, and Chili peppers. 42 Heyerdahl asserts “no other plant on Easter Island could possibly be confused with Chili pepper.” 43 But it seems to have been confused with the indigenous Salanum insulae-paschals, whose native name poroporo is the same as that applied to the Chili pepper now growing on the island. 44 The naturalist J. R. Foster, of the Cook Expedition, who walked over the island four years after the Spanish visit, would surely have reported the Chili pepper if it was then growing on the island.
Thus, we do not yet have genetic proof through plants of direct contact between South America and Easter Island by human agency in pre-European times.
The Easter Island hieroglyphic script on wooden tablets (kohau rongo-rongo) present a special problem. There is a very great gap between the pictures and symbols which appear among the paintings, carvings, tattoos, and petroglyphs of the Easter Islanders and other Polynesians, and this script. The script definitely indicates non-Polynesian influence.
The script suddenly came to light 94 years after the exploration of the island by the Spanish Expedition of 1770. At the impressive ceremony of the proclamation of annexation by these Spaniards on November 20, 1770, 45 the chiefs and priests came face to face with the embodiment of speech in parallel lines of writing when they were induced to affix their “signatures” to the document prepared for the occasion. What they drew for their “signatures” were petroglyph designs for birds and the vulva, and some other marks which might have been attempts to imitate European writing. The same petroglyph designs appear among the characters of the Easter Island script and could have served as a basis for developing its signs. The finest of the inscribed tablets was originally the blade of a European ash oar, proving that the engraving was done in post-European times. 46
No archaeological evidence has been produced which would indicate the existence of the script on Easter Island before 1770. It does not appear on facings of the ahu, on the sides of the caves at the Orongo cult centre or on any of the statues.
In 1722, Rogeveen says of the house he entered and described in great detail: “All the chattels we saw before us . . . . were mats spread on the floor, and a large flint stone which many of them use for a pillow.” 47
Neither members of the Spanish expedition in 1770, the Captain Cook Expedition in 1774, nor the La Perouse expedition in 1786 reported seeing - 64 the script or the tablets. We have no further observation of the culture until the arrival of the missionary Eyraud in 1864. In 1805, the captain of an American schooner carried off 12 men and 10 women to be sold as slaves. In the years following, the Easter Islanders were so hostile that those visitors who attempted to land were pelted with stones. Missionary Eyraud, who managed to establish himself ashore in spite of hostility, writes: “In all their houses one can find tablets of wood or sticks covered with many kinds of hieroglyphic signs: . . . Each figure has its own name; but the little they make of these tablets makes me incline to think that these signs, the rest of the primitive script, are for them at present a custom which they preserve without searching the meaning.” 48
In the period between 1770 and the first report of the script in 1864, there would have been time for the Easter Island priests to develop the script in emulation of the European example, to perfect it, and to establish the reading of the tablets as an integral part of the ceremonies which accompanied their genealogies and glorification chants.
The brilliant researches of the Russian scientists N. A. Butinov and Y. V. Knorozov 49 have demonstrated that the beautifully carved Easter Island glyphs represent a primitive hieroglyphic system of ideograms, key signs, and phonetic spellings that clearly reflected a Polynesian-type language. Because it is also partly mnemonic, it could only be read by those who knew the chant, genealogy, or tradition covered by the text. The local character of the script is established by the fact that the glyphs represent familiar things of the environment and culture, including their crescent-shaped gorget.
Thomson, the paymaster on the U.S.S. Mohican in 1886, as a result of interviewing eye witnesses of the ceremony in which the tablets were read, records the following:
A knowledge of the written characters was confined to the royal family, the chiefs of the the six districts into which the island was divided, sons of those priests, and certain priests or teachers, but the people were assembled at Anekena Bay once each year to hear all of the tablets read. The feast of the tablets was regarded as their most important fete day, and not even war was allowed to interfere with it.
The combination of circumstances that caused the sudden arrest of image-making, and resulted in the abandonment of all such work on the island, never to be again revived, may have had its effect upon the art of writing. The tablets that have been found in the best stage of preservation would correspond very nearly with the age of the unfinished images in the workshops. The ability to read the characters may have continued until 1864 [actually 1862], when the Peruvian slavers captured a large number of the inhabitants, and among those kidnapped were all of the officials and persons in authority. After this outrage, the traditions, etc., embraced by the tablets, seem to have been repeated on particular occasions, but the value of the characters was not understood and was lost to the natives. 50- 65
The cult of the rongorongo tablets was in full swing at the time the European slavers caused its extinction. Its fetes bore some resemblances to the ceremony of annexation staged by the Spaniards in respect to the central theme, i.e., the recitation from a script. In the one case, the script was on paper in European characters, in the other, it was on wood in Easter Island characters.
Heyerdahl believes the script originated from South America and expounds at great length on this proposition. 51 His strongest point for an Andean origin for the Easter Island script is the writing found among the post-Columbian Aymara and Quechua tribes who employ the same method of setting out the signs in boustrophedon, i.e., in lines alternately reversed which requires that the tablet be revolved 180° at the end of each line. 52 The Russian scientists had noted this also, but remarked that, “. . . . it was impossible to establish any affinity between separate signs and we can hardly think that the written language of Easter Island was borrowed from Peru. There may be some influence however. The question is open to further investigation.” 53 An explanation may be that both the Peruvians and the Easter Islanders were faced with the same problem of devising a writing of their own with only the model of a European script in parallel lines to follow. The boustrophedon method is a natural solution that allows for a continuous succession of signs.
We have no archaeological evidence that the pre-Columbian Peruvians employed writing any more than did pre-European Polynesians. The Easter Islanders did not need writing to assist them in reciting their chants and genealogies, which were easily memorised. So, although the art of reading the script was lost when the scribes were taken away to slavery in South America, several of the Easter Island chants which went with the rongorongo tablets survived. 54 Therefore, most fortunately, we know something of the content of these texts, even though we may not be able to make out much of them because the language of chants contains numerous names, archaic words, and obscure references to mythology and traditional history. But the purpose of the tablets seems to have been to objectify and hold the chants, a practice carried out in East Polynesia by the twisting of coconut leaves or coconut-fibre braid while reciting certain chants. 55 The rongorongo tablets offered an opportunity to fix their prayers and genealogical and glorification chants in this ingeniously devised script. It was probably for this reason that they were being kept in the houses at the time of the coming of the missionaries as charms after the passing of those who knew the art of this script.
If we have been on the right track in attributing the script of Easter Island to a local development, which is attendant upon the example of writing to which the chiefs were introduced in 1770, then we have removed a great part of its mystery and the greatest obstacle to a theory that - 66 ancient Easter Island culture owed its existence to a single landing of Polynesians. We are not obliged to believe the tale collected by Thomson in 1886 from a settler, Mr A. P. Salmon, 56 that Hotu Matua, the first king, “brought with him to the island sixty-seven tablets,” 57 any more than we would believe that this same king introduced the tobacco plant 58 or that the island was reached by “steering towards the setting sun” 59 from a land where the “climate was so intensely hot that the people sometimes died from the effects of the heat.” 60 We know that at the time of the recounting of these stories, the Easter Islanders were already well informed of the outside world and especially of Peru and Chile where this was true and where many of their kind had recently died in slavery.
From what is now understood about the physical types, languages and culture of the Easter Islanders at the time of European discovery, it is abundantly clear that they were not descendants of recently arrived Polynesians but of a very early off-shoot. Also, we can be sure that their ancestors had not found the island already occupied and developed by a people of South American culture.
During the seven days from September 17 to 24, 1969, when Dr Yosihiko Sinoto and I examined the archaeological sites of Easter Island from Poiki ditch in the east to the stone houses on the western rim of Rano Kao crater, with Dr Edward Mulloy—then supervising the reconstruction of Ahu Vai Uri—as our guide, we became very much aware that we were still throughly within the orbit of Polynesian culture. Mulloy, upon picking up one of a multitude of flaked obsidian pieces, remarked that he had yet to find one shaped by pressure flaking, and that this was why he was unconvinced that an American Indian had ever set foot on the island.
It should now be evident that no irrefutable evidence has yet been provided which would establish that voyagers from South America had ever reached Easter Island. If none came, we cannot attribute parallels to direct influence from that continent, and we would need to assume that that the Polynesian immigrants to Easter Island brought the sweet potato from the island they left. This brings us to a very important point in reconstructing the pre-history of Polynesia: South American influence, at least to the extent of the introduction of this very important food, came very early to East Polynesia. It is therefore altogether possible that the sweet potato was carried along with the Indonesian-derived Polynesian cultigens on the voyages which resulted in the first settlement of Hawaii and New Zealand. The early introduction of the sweet potato alerts us to the real possibility that craft coming from South America could have brought more than the sweet potato. But what more was introduced, when, and where? The studies of Voitov and Tumarkin 61 on ocean winds and currents, and Lanning 62 on both these and cultural considerations suggest the Marquesas and the Tuamotu Islands as the most likely recipients of - 67 South American influence. And comparative cultural studies point to the Marquesas as the probable source of the ancestors of the Easter Islanders 63.
The absence on Easter Island of the flaring conical food pounder and the angled adze is explained if the migration to Easter Island occurred before the appearance in East Polynesia of these artefacts.
One may conclude that because of the early and extreme isolation of the Easter Islanders and their spectacular accomplishments visible in great dressed-stone ahus, giant stone images, and inscribed wooden tablets, their culture serves to reveal the inherent capability of the early Polynesian maritime pioneers and the nature and adaptability of their culture.
1 Biggs 1967:308; Green 1967:227-8.
2 Smith 1961b:393-5; Evans 1965:469-481; Ayres 1971.
3 Voitov and Tumarkin, 1967:97.
4 Heyerdahl 1966b:98-101.
5 Finney 1967:152-164.
6 Heyerdahl 1961a:74.
7 Mulloy 1961:115.
8 Heyerdahl 1961b:501.
9 Golson 1965.
10 Golson 1965:55; Mulloy 1961:104.
11 Smith 1961b:39, M-710.
12 Golson 1965:77.
13 Ayres 1971.
14 Mulloy and Figueroa 1966; Ayres 1971.
15 Smith 1961a:218.
16 Smith 1961a:217.
17 Lanning 1970:175.
19 Ayres 1971.
20 Smith 1961b:394, M-711.
21 Golson 1965:69.
22 Mulloy 1961:154-155, 162-163.
23 Figueroa and Sanchez, 1965:201.
24 Smith 1961d:262.
25 Evans 1965:477.
26 Smith 1961c:390.
27 Smith 1961a:391, K501.
28 Figueroa and Sanchez 1965:172-178.
29 Figueroa and Sanchez 1965:201.
30 Sinoto and Kellum 1965:20-3; Sinoto 1966:297.
31 Emory 1968:151-70
32 Green 1966; Pawley 1966; Grace, in press.
33 Heyerdahl 1968:133.
34 Metraux 1936:190-191.
35 Heyerdahl 1961a:51.
36 Metraux 1936:190-191.
37 Heyerdahl 1966a:193.
38 Heyerdahl 1961b:520.
39 Heyerdahl 1968:134.
40 Heyerdahl 1961b:520.
42 Heyerdahl 1961a:28.
43 Heyerdahl 1961a:28.
44 Heyerdahl 1961a:28, 29.
45 Corney 1908:47-9.
46 Heyerdahl 1961a:72.
47 Corney 1908:18.
48 Heyerdahl 1965:346.
49 Butinov and Knorozov, 1957:13-15.
50 Thomson 1891:514.
51 Heyerdahl 1965:368-85.
52 Heyerdahl 1965:372.
53 Butinov and Knorozov 1957:16.
54 Thomson 1891:517-526; Barthel 1965:387; Fedorova 1965:395; Kondratov 1965, fig. 127.
55 Emory 1947:37-38; Malo 1951:162; Ii 1963:38-39.
56 Heyerdahl 1961a:33:78.
57 Thomson 1891:514.
58 Thomson 1891:526.
59 Thomson 1891:528; Heyerdahl 1961a:34.
60 Thomson 1891:527.
61 Voitov and Tumarkin 1967.
62 Lanning 1970.
63 Sinoto 1968:117.