{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_71656/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_71656","id":"gutenberg_71656","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/71656","summary":null,"tags":["Borneo -- Description and travel","Category: Archaeology & Anthropology","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Ethnology -- Borneo","Folklore -- Borneo","Kayan (Bornean people)","Kenyah (Southeast Asian people)"],"text":"_This Edition, with Heliotype plates, is limited to Five Hundred\nCopies._\n\n\n\n\n                                   THE\n                                HOME-LIFE\n                                    OF\n                           BORNEO HEAD-HUNTERS\n\n                       ITS FESTIVALS AND FOLK-LORE\n\n                                    BY\n              WILLIAM HENRY FURNESS, 3RD, M. D.; F. R. G. S.\n      MEMBER OF THE AMERICAN PHILOSOPHICAL SOCIETY; OF THE AMERICAN\n      ORIENTAL SOCIETY; DE LA SOCI\u00c9T\u00c9 DE G\u00c9OGRAPHIE; FELLOW OF THE\n         ANTHROPOLOGICAL INSTITUTE OF GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND\n\n                               PHILADELPHIA\n                         J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY\n                                   1902\n\n                  Copyright, 1902, by W. H. FURNESS, 3RD\n\n                           WESTCOTT & THOMSON,\n                         _Electrotypers, Phila._\n\n                    PRESS OF J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY,\n                                 _Phila._\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE\n\n\nWhile to scenery, it is distance,\u2014and photography,\u2014which lends\nenchantment, it is, on the contrary, propinquity which, in my experience,\nlends to the Borneo Head-Hunters and to their Home-life, a charm which\ncannot be wholly dispelled even by the skulls hanging from the rafters of\ntheir houses. After living among them, for months at a time, an insight\nis gained into their individualities and peculiarities which a casual\nsojourn can never disclose. Some, of course, are ill-tempered, crotchety,\nselfish; others, again, are mild, gentle, generous. The youths have their\nlanguishing loves, which they are eager to confide to sympathetic ears.\nThe maidens are coy, or demure, or bashful, when their lovers are near,\nand delight in teasing and tormenting. The Bornean mothers and fathers\nthink their babies the prettiest that ever were born; and the young boys\nare as boyish as school-boys here at home, and are quite as up to all\nmischief.\n\nIt is so much easier to descend than it is to rise in what we call\ncivilization, that, before a month is passed in a Kayan or a Kenyah\nhouse, the host and hostess, who, on first sight, seemed to be uncouth\nsavages, frightfully mutilated as to eyes, ears, and teeth, are regarded\nas kind-hearted, devoted friends. It becomes well-nigh impossible to\nrealise that they cannot add the simplest of sums without the aid of\nfingers and toes; and that C\u00e6sar, Shakespeare, and Washington are to them\nmeaningless, unpronounceable words.\n\nTheir honesty, (in a twelve months\u2019 residence the only thing stolen\nfrom me was a tooth-powder bottle,) their simple, child-like nature,\ntheir keen interest in the pursuit of the moment, and their vivacious\nexcitability, place them in advance of any \u2018savages\u2019 with whom I have\never, in my many wanderings, come in contact.\n\nThe greater part of my time in Borneo was spent among the Kayans\nand Kenyahs of the Baram district of Sarawak; consequently, in the\nfollowing pages I have barely mentioned the Dayaks, (or Ibans, as they\ncall themselves,) or any of the coast tribes, of whose home-life I saw\ncomparatively little; so much has been already written about these tribes\nthat I am jealous for my friends of the far interior.\n\nI have refrained from giving dates, or details, as to the height of\nthe thermometer, or as to my personal comfort or health, or as to the\nnumber of men who carried my luggage, or what I had for breakfast, or\ndinner,\u2014items extremely important at the time, but of no permanent or\npublic interest whatsoever.\n\nI have attempted to portray the impressions made on a mind which I\nendeavoured to keep wholly unprejudiced, and even free from all tendency\nto despise as gross superstition that which by the natives is deemed holy\nand religious. I do not wish to forget that I was received as an honoured\nguest in Kayan Long-houses; it is a sorry payment to vilify my hosts.\nRather let me throw what charm I may over the daily round of the natives\u2019\ndateless life.\n\nTo His Highness Rajah BROOKE, I owe sincere thanks, not alone for his\nkind hospitality, but for facilities in freely visiting all parts of his\nadmirably governed territory, and for his liberal permission to collect\nEthnological and Natural History material.\n\nIt is with pleasure that I acknowledge my indebtedness to the Rajah\u2019s\nResident, Dr. CHARLES HOSE, for valuable information on innumerable\npoints, for a genial hospitality of many weeks, and for the opportunities\nto visit the people of his District, \u2018my people,\u2019 as he likes to call\nthem, whose manners and customs he knows so thoroughly, and whose\ninterests he guards with so much vigilance and efficiency.\n\n                                                             W. H. F. 3rd.\n\nJuly, 1902.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n                                                                    PAGE\n\n  HOME-LIFE                                                            1\n\n  CEREMONIES AT THE NAMING OF A CHIEF\u2019S SON                           16\n\n  EARLY TRAINING OF A HEAD-HUNTER                                     54\n\n  A WAR EXPEDITION                                                    67\n\n  \u2018JAWA\u2019 OR PEACE-MAKING                                              97\n\n  PERSONAL EMBELLISHMENT                                             146\n\n  PERMANTONG, OR LALI, A BORNEAN SPECIES OF TABOO                    160\n\n  THE PUNANS                                                         170\n\n  TUBA FISHING                                                       185\n\n\n\n\nILLUSTRATIONS.\n\n\n                                                                    PAGE\n\n  TATTOOED KAYAN MARRIED WOMAN                             _Frontispiece._\n\n  ABAN AVIT\u2019S HOUSE ON THE TINJAR                                      1\n\n  POSTS ERECTED IN FRONT OF A HOUSE AFTER A HEAD-HUNT                  2\n\n  VERANDA OF ABUN\u2019S HOUSE AT LONG-LAMA ON THE BARAM                    4\n\n  JUNGLE IN THE LOW-COUNTRY, NEAR THE BARAM FORT                       6\n\n  KALURI, MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS                                          8\n\n  FAMILY-ROOM, OR LAMIN, IN ABUN\u2019S HOUSE ON THE BARAM                 10\n\n  VERANDA OF A NEWLY BUILT IBAN HOUSE ON THE BAKONG RIVER             12\n\n  TAMA BULAN                                                          16\n\n  HANDLE OF A PARANG                                                  20\n\n  CHINESE BAZAAR AT CLAUDETOWN\u2014BARAM FORT                             22\n\n  SCENE ON THE BARAM                                                  24\n\n  GROUP OF KENYAH YOUTHS                                              26\n\n  BULAN, DAUGHTER OF TAMA BULAN                                       28\n\n  GROUP OF BOYS                                                       30\n\n  KENYAH WOMEN IN ORDINARY COSTUME                                    34\n\n  MAKING FIRE WITH A \u2018FIRE-DRILL\u2019                                     38\n\n  MUJAN, ONE OF THE BELLES OF TAMA BULAN\u2019S HOUSEHOLD                  46\n\n  SARA, ANOTHER BELLE OF TAMA BULAN\u2019S HOUSEHOLD                       48\n\n  ABAN AVIT, A BERAWAN CHIEF OF THE TINJAR                            54\n\n  A KAYAN YOUTH, WITH THE RAISED SCAR, CALLED BY THE NATIVES \u2018GUM\n   TOH,\u2019 A GHOST\u2019S CLUTCH                                             56\n\n  VERANDA OF ABAN AVIT\u2019S HOUSE                                        58\n\n  SKULL OF A CHIEF OF THE KELABIT TRIBE                               60\n\n  ONE OF THE BELLES OF ABAN AVIT\u2019S HOUSE                              62\n\n  THE DRUDGE OF A KAYAN HOUSEHOLD                                     64\n\n  VERANDA OF ABAN DENG\u2019S HOUSE ON THE APOH                            66\n\n  BORNEAN WAR-COSTUME                                                 68\n\n  COUNCIL OF WAR, DURING A MARCH TO THE HOUSE OF AN ENEMY             70\n\n  CHIEF AND TWO SLAVES IN WAR-COSTUME                                 72\n\n  INSTRUMENTS USED IN PREPARING POISONED DARTS                        74\n\n  KAYAN WAR-COAT OF GOAT\u2019S SKIN                                       74\n\n  WAR-CANOE, OR RACING-CANOE                                          76\n\n  FIGURE-HEAD OF A LONG WAR-CANOE                                     78\n\n  KELAVIT BOK, A HAIRY SHIELD                                         80\n\n  POLING CANOES OVER SHALLOW RAPIDS                                   82\n\n  THE WAR-PARTY HALTED ON A \u2018KARANGAN\u2019 TO COOK BREAKFAST              84\n\n  ARMED WARRIORS ON A NARROW TRAIL IN THE JUNGLE                      86\n\n  A STEALTHY APPROACH TO THE HOUSE OF AN ENEMY                        88\n\n  THE RETURN FROM A HEAD-HUNT                                         90\n\n  WAR-CAPS OF RATTAN AND SPLIT BAMBOO                                 92\n\n  GRAVE OF OYONG LUHAT                                                94\n\n  WAR-COAT AND CAP MADE OF THE SKIN OF A MANIS                        96\n\n  A CHARM AGAINST FEVER                                               98\n\n  DECORATED STORE-HOUSE FOR RICE                                     100\n\n  RIVER BANK IN FRONT OF A LONG-HOUSE                                104\n\n  CANOES OF THE PEACE-PARTY IN A QUIET REACH BETWEEN RAPIDS          106\n\n  RIVER SCENE IN THE HEART OF BORNEO                                 108\n\n  LAKI JOK ORONG, A REJANG RIVER CHIEF                               110\n\n  DOOR-FRAME FROM THE HOUSE OF TAMA APING PANG                       114\n\n  ABAN LIAH                                                          116\n\n  A CONTINGENT OF THE PEACE-PARTY                                    118\n\n  LIAN AVIT, A LEPPU ANNAN, WITH TIPANG, HIS WIFE                    122\n\n  IBANS BARGAINING FOR VALUABLE CHINESE JARS                         126\n\n  TAMA APING BULING\u2019S HOUSE ON THE TINJAR                            128\n\n  WOMEN OF THE HOUSEHOLD OF TAMA BALAN DENG                          136\n\n  GRAVE OF THE WIFE OF ORANG KAYA TEMANGANG LAWI                     142\n\n  MOSS-COVERED JUNGLE ON THE SUMMIT OF MOUNT DULIT                   144\n\n  BATU, YOUNGEST SON OF THE KAYAN CHIEF OYONG LUHAT                  146\n\n  TATTOO DESIGNS ON THE FOREARMS OF KAYAN AND KENYAH WOMEN           148\n\n  TATTOO DESIGNS OF IBANS OF THE REJANG AND KENYAHS OF THE BARAM     148\n\n  TATTOOING ON THE FOREARMS AND FEET OF A KENYAH WOMAN               150\n\n  TATTOOING A KAYAN GIRL                                             152\n\n  KENYAH WOMAN WITH ELONGATED EAR-LOBES                              154\n\n  BATU, A KAYAN YOUTH OF THE BARAM DISTRICT                          156\n\n  IBAN ORNAMENTATION OF THE TEETH                                    156\n\n  MALANAU HEAD-COMPRESSION                                           158\n\n  IBANS FELLING A BUTTRESS TREE                                      160\n\n  FIELD OF HILL RICE                                                 162\n\n  IBAN CAMPHOR COLLECTORS SPLITTING A CAMPHOR TREE                   164\n\n  PUNAN CAMPHOR COLLECTORS                                           166\n\n  KAYAN CAMPHOR COLLECTORS SELLING THE CRYSTALS TO CHINESE TRADERS   168\n\n  TAMA BALAN DENG, A SIBOP                                           170\n\n  PIPES AND OTHER REQUISITES TO TOBACCO-SMOKING                      170\n\n  PUNAN HUTS                                                         172\n\n  PUNAN GIRL STRAINING GRATED TAPIOCA                                172\n\n  HUNTING SMALL GAME WITH THE SUMPIT                                 174\n\n  WOMEN AND CHILDREN OF THE PUNAN ENCAMPMENT NEAR THE HEAD-WATERS\n   OF THE DAPOI                                                      174\n\n  GIRLS IN THE HOUSE OF TAMA BALAN DENG, GRATING TAPIOCA             176\n\n  PUNAN WOMEN STRAINING GRATED TAPIOCA                               176\n\n  PUNAN WOMAN CARRYING HER BABY IN A SLING MADE OF RATTAN            178\n\n  ORANG-KAYA PERKASSA                                                180\n\n  HOUSEHOLD GODS OF ORANG-KAYA PERKASSA                              180\n\n  BIRDS\u2019-NEST CAVES AT NIAH                                          182\n\n  PUNAN HUTS WITHIN THE BIRDS\u2019-NEST CAVES                            182\n\n  PUNANS CAMPED FOR THE NIGHT                                        184\n\n  SCENE ON A LEVEL STRETCH OF RIVER IN THE CENTRAL HIGHLANDS         186\n\n  FLAT PALM-LEAF HAT WORN BY WOMEN                                   188\n\n  A KENYAH GRAVE                                                     190\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: THE TATTOOING OF A KAYAN MARRIED WOMAN]\n\n[Illustration: ABAN AVIT\u2019S HOUSE, ON THE TINJAR\n\nTHE CLUSTER OF STAKES AND POLES IN THE FOREGROUND IS A CHARM TO DRIVE\nAWAY THE EVIL SPIRITS OF ILLNESS. IN THE LEFT CORNER OF THE PICTURE, THE\nTALLER POLE, DECORATED WITH STRIPS OF PALM LEAVES, IS THE RECORD OF A\nSUCCESSFUL HEAD-HUNT. THE PHOTOGRAPH SHOWS ABOUT TWO-THIRDS OF THE LENGTH\nOF THE HOUSE.]\n\n\n\n\nTHE HOME-LIFE OF BORNEO HEAD-HUNTERS\n\nITS FESTIVALS AND FOLK-LORE\n\n\n\n\n_HOME-LIFE_\n\n\nThe houses in which the Borneo people live are the outcome of a life of\nconstant apprehension of attacks from head-hunters. In union alone is\nstrength. Surrounded by a dense jungle which affords, night and day, up\nto the very steps to their homes, a protecting cover for enemies, the\nBorneans live, as it were, in fighting trim, with their backs to a hollow\nsquare. A village of scattered houses would mean the utmost danger to\nthose on the outskirts; consequently, houses which would ordinarily form\na village have been crowded together until one roof covers them all. The\nrivers and streams are the only thoroughfares in the island, and village\nhouses are always built close to the river-banks, so that boats can be\nquickly reached; this entails another necessity in the construction of\nthe houses. The torrents during the rainy season, which, on the western\nhalf of the island, lasts from October till February, swell the rivers\nwith such suddenness and to such an extent that in a single night the\nwater will overflow banks thirty feet high, and convert the jungle\nround about into a soggy swamp; unless the houses were built of stone\nthey would be inevitably swept away by the rush of water; wherefore the\nnatives build on high piles and live above the moisture and decay of the\nsteaming ground.\n\nBeneath the houses is the storage-place for canoes that are leaky and\nold, or only half finished and in process of being sprung and spread\nout into proper shape before being fitted up with gunwales and thwarts.\nIt is generally a very disorderly and noisome place, where all the\nrefuse from the house is thrown, and where pigs wallow, and chickens\nscratch for grains of rice that fall from the husking mortars in the\nveranda overhead. Between the houses and the river\u2019s bank,\u2014a distance\nof a hundred yards, more or less,\u2014the jungle is cleared away, and in\nits place are clumps of cocoanut, or Areca palms, and, here and there,\nsmall storehouses, built on piles, for rice. In front of the houses of\nthe Kayans there are sure to be one or two forges, where the village\nblacksmiths, makers of spear-heads, swords, hoes, and axes, hold an\nhonorable position. In the shade of the palms the boat-builders\u2019 sheds\nprotect from the scorching heat of the sun the great logs that are being\nscooped out to form canoes; the ground is covered with chips, from which\narises a sour, sappy odor that is almost pungent and is suggestive of all\nvarieties of fever, but is really quite harmless. In the open spaces tall\nreedy grass grows, and after hard rains a misstep, from the logs forming\na pathway, means to sink into black, oozy mud up to the knees.\n\nJust on the bank of the river there are usually four or five posts, about\neight feet high, roughly carved at the top to represent a man\u2019s head;\nthese have been put up after successful head-hunting raids, and on them\nare tied various fragments of the enemy,\u2014a rib, or an arm, or a leg bone;\nthese offerings drive away the evil Spirits who might wish to harass the\ninmates of the house, and they also serve as a warning to enemies who may\nbe planning an attack. Such remnants of the enemy are held by no means\nin the same veneration with which the heads, hung up in the house, are\nregarded; after the bits of flesh and bone are tied to the posts they are\nleft to the wind and rain, the pigs and chickens.\n\n[Illustration: POSTS ERECTED IN FRONT OF A HOUSE AFTER A HEAD-HUNT\n\nON THESE POSTS ARE HUNG SMALL FRAGMENTS OF THE ENEMY. THE CARVED FACES\nRECORD THE NUMBER OF HEADS TAKEN.]\n\nNot a few of the Kayan and Kenyah houses have been enlarged and built\nout at both ends until they shelter from six hundred to a thousand\npersons, and are possibly a quarter of a mile long; this statement seems\nto verge on a \u2018traveller\u2019s tale,\u2019 but it must be remembered that these\nhouses are really villages of a single street, the veranda being a public\nthoroughfare, unobstructed throughout its whole length, in front of\nthe private family rooms. From the ground to the veranda a notched log\nserves as steps, and it takes no little practice to enable a clumsy,\nleather-shod foreigner to make a dignified entrance into a Borneo house.\nThe notches in the log are worn very smooth by the constant tread of\nbare feet, and, as there is no door-mat below for muddy feet, the\nshallow notches are often coated with a thin and treacherous layer of\nslime; foreigners generally enter a Kayan house on all fours, giving to\nthe natives an astounding idea of occidental manners. To the natives,\nhowever, these steps present no difficulties,\u2014no matter how steep or\nslimy the log, they seem to get a firm hold on the edge of the notches\nwith their prehensile toes, and, even with heavy loads on their backs,\nwalk up as freely as if on level ground. The piles on which the large\nhouses rest are fifteen or twenty feet high, and often two and a half\nfeet in diameter at the base; in some few cases they are carved with\ngrotesque figures of human heads, or conventionalised representations of\nmonkeys, crocodiles, and snakes.\n\nIn the days before the humanising influence of Rajah Brooke\u2019s government\nhad spread to the Kayans, and Kenyahs, and tribes living in the central\nhighlands, it was a preliminary custom, in building a house, to thrust\ninto the first excavation wherein the heavy, up-river, corner post was to\nrest, a young slave girl alive, and the mighty post was then planted on\nher body, crushing out her life as a propitiatory offering to the demons\nthat they should not molest the dwelling. Happily, this custom has been\nabolished, and in houses now built, instead of a girl, a pig or a fowl\nhas been substituted. I regret to add that in the house of Tama Bulan,\nwherein we lived for some time, the earlier custom had been followed.\n\nThe roofs of the houses are partly thatched and partly shingled. The\nshingles are hewn out of \u2018Billian,\u2019 a species of iron-wood which stands\nfor years, without decay, the alternate change from damp to dry heat;\neach one has a square hole at its upper end, through which passes the\nstrip of rattan wherewith it is tied to the frame of the roof. The\nthatching is of palm leaves doubled over a stick five feet long and then\nbound on the roof, overlapping like shingles; several layers of these\npalm-leaf tiles make a perfectly tight roof, and one that may be quickly\nrepaired. In building a Borneo house not a nail is used and but very few\npegs; all beams and cross-ties are either roughly mortised and bound\ntogether, or else merely tied one on top of the other with rattan or with\nlong strips of fibrous bark; even the planks of the floor or walls are\nnot pegged, but are tied to one another and laced to the joists.\n\nIn selecting the site for a house, before so much as a twig of the jungle\nis cleared away, there are always extreme and prolonged pains taken to\ndiscover, through \u2018Omen birds,\u2019 the temper of the evil Spirits of that\nlocality,\u2014to a Kayan there are no such things as beneficent Spirits.\nUntil this temper is definitely discovered the whole household is under\na \u2018permantong,\u2019 or taboo, and may not leave its quarters, whatever these\nquarters may be, be they the old house or a temporary shelter.\n\nThis taboo lasts many days,\u2014ten days perhaps,\u2014during which certain old\nmen who know the habits of omen birds and omen animals make frequent\ntrips into the surrounding jungle to observe whether the red hawk fly,\nor whether the little honey-sucker bird, (called the \u2018Isit,\u2019) chirp to\nthem, on the right or on the left of their path. Finally, they must\ncatch a glimpse of the barking deer, and then the welfare of the house\nis assured. As soon as one of these favorable omens is seen the hunters\nbuild a fire,\u2014a signal to the birds and animals, conveying thanks for\nfavors received. When the last of these omens has been seen, then, and\nnot until then, is the permantong over and the clearing for the house\nbegun, and all hands turn in to help.\n\nThe veranda, or main street, of these houses is where all public life\ngoes on; here, in the smoky atmosphere that pervades the place, councils\nof war and peace are held, feasts spread, and a large part of the daily\nwork performed. It is seldom a very bright or cheery place; the eaves\ncome down so low that the sunlight penetrates only at sunrise and sunset,\nand the sooty smoke from the fires turns all the woodwork to a sombre,\nmahogany hue. The floor is usually of broad, hewn planks, loosely laid\nupon the joists, with little care whether they fit close or warp and\nbend up out of shape, leaving wide cracks through which a small child\nmight fall; they show plainly the cuts of the adze, but they soon become\npolished by the leathery soles of bare feet shuffling over them from dawn\ntill dark. At intervals of perhaps fifty feet are fireplaces,\u2014merely\nshallow boxes about five feet square by six inches deep, filled with flat\nstones imbedded in clay; herein are built the fires that give light at\nnight and add to sociability at all times; no council or friendly talk\nis complete without the crackle of a fire to enliven it and to keep away\nevil Spirits. Of course, no chimney carries off the smoke, which must\ndisperse as best it can among the cob-webby beams overhead, after giving\na fresh coat of soot to the row or bunch of trophy-skulls that hangs in\nthe place of honor opposite to the door of the chief\u2019s room. The odor\nof burning resinous wood, mingled with other ingredients, saturates the\nveranda, and in after-life the smell of musty garret, cedar-wood chests,\nand brush-wood burning in the autumn instantly recalls the veranda of a\nBorneo long-house. It must be confessed that occasionally there mingles\nwith this aromatic odor a tang of wet dog, wallowing pig, and ancient\nfish, but then, after all, these are not peculiar to Borneo.\n\n[Illustration: THE VERANDA OF ABUN\u2019S HOUSE AT LONG-LAMA ON THE BARAM.\n\nTHE ROW OF SKULLS HANGS FROM A BEAM SUSPENDED OPPOSITE TO THE DOOR INTO\nTHE CHIEF\u2019S ROOM; BENEATH THE SKULLS IS A CLAY AND STONE HEARTH WHEREON\nA FIRE IS LIGHTED EVERY EVENING, NOT ONLY TO GIVE LIGHT, BUT ALSO\n\u201cTO DIFFUSE A PLEASANT WARMTH ABOUT THE SKULLS.\u201d THE WALL OF PLANKS,\nEXTENDING DOWN THE RIGHT SIDE OF THE PHOTOGRAPH DIVIDES THE FAMILY ROOMS\nFROM THE PUBLIC VERANDA. THE BOYS ON THE RIGHT ARE SEATED UPON ONE OF THE\nLARGE MORTARS WHEREIN THE RICE IS HUSKED. ON THE LEFT IS THE USUAL CROWD\nOF LOUNGERS SEATED UPON THE LOW PLATFORM WHICH EXTENDS ALMOST THE WHOLE\nLENGTH OF THE HOUSE BELOW THE EAVES.]\n\nThere is no ceiling to a Borneo long-house; above the plank walls\nthat divide the private rooms from the veranda, and from one another,\nthe space is open to the ridge-pole. Across the rafters are placed,\nhiggledy-piggledy, spare boards, supplies of dried rattan, and long rolls\nof bamboo matting; here and there, hang rice baskets, hampers, wicker\nfish-traps of all sizes; and sometimes every available space is hung\nwith bunches of bananas, which must be gathered green and ripened in the\nhouse, to keep them from the depredations of monkeys and fruit-bats. At\nintervals along the roof are trap-doors of palm-leaf thatch, which can\nbe lifted and supported on a pole to admit more light and air. [For the\naccompanying photograph as many of these trap-doors as possible had been\nraised in order to get enough light, and just over the row of skulls\nseveral shingles had been taken off. In the photograph this row of forty\nor fifty skulls hanging from a beam begins with one that looks like a\ngourd, on the left.]\n\nAlong the whole length of the veranda at its outer edge, under the eaves,\nis a railing, or fence, of poles and boards tied to the upright supports\nof the roof; when parents in the household are unusually careful of their\nchildren, this fence extends from the floor to the eaves, which are\nhere only about four feet above the floor, but usually this safeguard\nis only two poles about six inches apart, and serves as a rest for the\nbacks of men when they sit on the wide platforms, which are raised about\na foot above the floor and extend nearly all along this lightest and\nairiest part of the house. These platforms are of much smoother planks\nthan the floor, and are often of single huge slabs of wood from the\nbuttress-like roots of the \u2018Tapang\u2019 tree. To make these lounging-places\nstill more luxurious, mats of fine rattan or bamboo strips are spread\nupon them, and then a Bornean desires no more comfortable place whereon\nto sit by day or to recline by night, unless, perchance, it be a dry\nsandy river-bank, above the rapids, where are no crocodiles, mosquitoes,\nnor pestiferous black-flies, and where grow gigantic Caladiums, whereof\na single leaf is large enough to cover his entire body and afford him\na protection from the rain, as impervious as a rubber blanket. These\nlow platforms, especially in front of the chief\u2019s door, [which in the\nphotograph is directly opposite the row of skulls just mentioned,] are\nthe places where men congregate after nightfall to gossip and smoke\nround the fire, which is here needed to dispel darkness, dampness, and\nevil Spirits. Diversion is often created by one of their number, who,\nmore self-sacrificing than the rest, goes through the violent antics of\na war-dance, or sings long, rambling songs about the valorous deeds of\nTokong, who originated head-hunting, or of some other warrior who gained\nthe blissful regions of \u2018Apo Legan\u2019 by the slaughter of his enemies.\nWhatever the theme,\u2014and the themes are generally legends or familiar\nstories,\u2014the details are supplied by the imagination of the singer, who\ncomposes them on the spur of the moment, while the chorus is singing the\nlast two or three words of the verse, followed by \u2018Ara Wi Wi, Ar\u00e1!\u2019 a\nmeaningless refrain, like our own \u2018Tooral, looral,\u2019 although I am afraid\nthat in a former publication I unwittingly gave the impression that its\ntranslation was \u2018Sleep dear little one, sleep.\u2019[1]\n\nTo these songs an accompaniment is often played upon an instrument, known\namong certain Kayans and Kenyahs as a _Kaluri_ or _Kaleeri_ or _Kaludi_.\nIt is probably of Chinese origin; substantially the same instrument is\nused in China and in the countries bordering thereon to the northward\nand westward. I saw almost an exact counterpart of the Borneo Kaluri\nplayed by the Naga tribes inhabiting the hills near the Burmese border.\nIt consists of a bottle-shaped gourd with six hollow reed pipes set\ninto the body of it; a finger-hole is cut in each pipe at such a place\nthat the fingers of both hands while holding the instrument can cover\nall the holes. The middle reed is the longest, and is therefore the\nbass; it has no finger-hole, but its tone is subdued by a movable cap\nat the end; the neck of the gourd forms the mouth-piece. The music of\na Kaluri somewhat resembles that of organ pipes, perhaps slightly nasal\nin timbre, but having an impressive charm withal when heard amid native\nsurroundings, in the dim, smoky atmosphere of a Borneo long-house at\nnight, when light from the flickering fire accentuates the harsh lines\nin the faces of the natives grouped about the performer, and where eyes,\nrobbed of the softening effect of lashes and eyebrows, glitter fiercely,\nand where brass studs glisten in pointed and blackened teeth, and where\ncarnivorous ferocity and alertness is imparted to the men\u2019s faces by the\nupturned tiger-cat\u2019s teeth in their ears,\u2014all these so intensify the\nrelentless, recurring, savagely persistent minor key of the Kaluri that\ndim questionings are stirred whether or not, after all, bloodshed be not\nthe noblest aim in life and the blackened and battered skulls overhead be\nnot glory\u2019s highest prize. Music hath charms to soothe,\u2014Kaluri music hath\ncharms to _make_,\u2014a savage breast.\n\n[Illustration: JUNGLE IN THE LOW COUNTRY NEAR THE BARAM FORT\n\nTHE LARGE LOG IN THE FOREGROUND HAD BEEN ROUGHLY HEWN FOR MAKING A CANOE,\nBUT ON ACCOUNT OF A WARNING FROM AN OMEN-BIRD WAS ABANDONED.]\n\nIn the verandas of the Kayan houses there are always large wooden mortars\nwherein rice is hulled; from morning until night there is always to be\nheard, somewhere in the length of the house, the rhythmical thumping that\nbetokens that young girls are at their everlasting task of threshing,\nhulling, and winnowing the rice for the daily repast. The rice mortars\nare cut from large logs of wood, and are somewhat prismatic in shape,\nusually five or six feet in length by two or three feet wide on the\nupper surface; they rest upon a base not more than a foot wide, [as\nin the photograph, where, on the right, some boys are sitting on the\nedge of a mortar,] but are made firm by stout poles that are set into\nthem and extend through the flooring to the ground below, and also by\nstrong braces that are pegged to the house beams above. The upper, broad\nsurface of these mortars is slightly concave, and is divided into two\nor more sections, each with a round pit six inches deep in the centre.\nIn husking the rice, these pits are filled with the grains, and then\ntwo, or sometimes four, girls, standing upon the broad top, pound the\nrice in the pit with wooden pestles five or six feet long, which they\nhold at the middle with both hands. The motion that they adopt is\nexceedingly graceful; they stand with the heels together, and lift the\npole or pestle perpendicularly above their heads as high as they can\nreach, then, bending the body at the hips and swinging the arms down,\nthey jam the pestle into the rice pit; as they raise the pestle again\nfor another stroke they put one foot forward to push back into the pit\nthe grains that may have jumped out on the flat surface of the mortar.\nWhen thus pounding, the young girls keep perfect time with one another,\nthe poles never clash, and each girl brushes back, first with one foot,\nthen with the other, the grains she jostles out, so that when they pound\nfast the motion becomes almost a dance. Not infrequently the pestles are\nornamented at their upper end with several sliding rings or a sliding\nblock that jingles when the pestle strikes; this rhythm and this jingle\nimpart some alleviation to the tedious task. When the husks are all\nbeaten off, the chaff is winnowed out by tossing the grains and catching\nthem again and again upon a flat basket. The task of hulling rice falls\nexclusively to the women and girls; they begin it when they are so small\nthat they can barely lift the pestle, and, once started in proficiency,\nthe task becomes an element of their life, and their winnowing-baskets\nare hung as symbols of industry on their graves.\n\nIn the accompanying photograph of a veranda, the coffin-shaped box\nhanging on the wall on the right is a case wherein war-coats are kept,\nso that the goat-skin and feathers whereof they are made cannot be eaten\nby hungry dogs. The photograph does not give an absolutely correct\nidea of the daily appearance of a veranda; there is only one dog to be\nseen,\u2014there should be at least a dozen. The exposure had to last so long\nthat, lest the dogs should jar the camera, we had them all driven down\nthe notched log to the ground, and then the log was turned wrong side\nup, so that they could not return. (We tried this method of getting rid\nof the dogs once at night when they were particularly troublesome and\nquarrelsome, and seemed to prefer our bodies to any other couch, but the\ncrafty curs knew an adequate revenge; as soon as they found themselves\nlocked out they made night hideous with concerted and disconcerting\nbaying at the moon, until we were glad to readmit them. Our leather shoes\nwe always had to tie high up on the rafters at night, or they would have\nbeen eaten up, all but the soles and heels.)\n\nThis photograph was taken from a point just opposite the chief\u2019s door,\nabout half way down the length of the veranda.\n\n[Illustration: KALURI\u2014MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS.]\n\nThe family rooms, even those of the chief, are often dark and disordered\nlittle compartments, and in them it is usual for anything but quiet to\nreign; the smallest of the infants sprawl on the floor, the fowls, that\nhave flown up to steal the rice drying on the platforms at the back\nof the house, squawk and cackle, and the old women who are relegated\nto culinary sinecures, such as rice-boiling, add a mild confusion by\nwhacking the dogs that wander in and prowl about the cooking-pots. The\nspace under the eaves, unlike that of the veranda, is boarded up from\nfloor to roof with rough hewn planks; the only light is admitted through\nsmall windows in the planks or through trap-doors in the roof. Of course,\nthere is never a pane of glass in the windows, and I doubt that the\nnatives of the interior, or even of the coast towns, ever saw a glazed\nwindow.\n\nIn spite of the darkness of these rooms, there is, nevertheless, more\nindustry in them than is ever found in the veranda; the women are really\nthe workers of the community, and seem never to sit absolutely idle\ngossiping, as do the men; when the harvesting is finished and there is no\nmore work out of doors, they employ their time in making mats and baskets\nof rattan strips, in stringing beads into ornaments for war-coats, in\nweaving cloth for feast-day garments, and in fashioning large, round,\nflat hats for the next season\u2019s work in the rice-fields. During the rainy\nseason, the husbands and lovers seem to have little to do but sit in\nthe veranda, lounging against the railing at the open space under the\neaves, whence they can observe the river and its incidents, and watch the\nsmoke from their long cigarettes curl and drift among the fronds of tall\ncocoanut palms that sway and rustle on a level with their faces. These\nare the days when war expeditions are planned and resolutions made to\nadd fresh heads to the row already hanging in front of the chief\u2019s door,\nand thereby remove any taboo enforced by the death of relatives. The men\nseldom linger in the family rooms during the day, and the women, except\nwhen busy hulling the rice in the big wooden mortars, spend no time in\nthe veranda.\n\nThe doorway from the veranda into the family room opens into a very dark\nand narrow passage, with the partition wall of the next room on one side\nand a rack for fire-wood and long bamboo water-bottles on the other.\nPossibly it is to announce the coming of a guest that the flooring of\nthese little entries is always laid down in such a wobbly fashion, and of\nlogs and billets of wood so rickety, that it is impossible to walk upon\nit without stumbling or an unseemly clatter; whatever be the reason, such\nis the fact, and I never stepped over the high threshold into the dark of\none of these passages without expecting to trample on babies or to fall\nthrough on the wallowing pigs below.\n\nThe end of the passage opens directly into the middle of the room, where\nthe floor is better laid and made more comfortable by the addition of\nmats. The whole room is perhaps twenty-five feet square, but this space\nis diminished by two or three little sleeping-closets for the parents or\nfor the grown daughters. In the right-hand corner, near an opening under\nthe eaves, the floor is raised a few inches, where the sons or the male\nslaves sleep at night, and where the women work at their bead-stringing\nor mat-making during the day; it is the lightest and pleasantest place in\nthe room. Against the partition that divides the veranda from the room is\nthe fireplace, which is merely a hearth of clay and large flat stones, as\nin the veranda, except that in the centre are three stones whereon the\ncooking pots rest; above is a rack, just beyond the reach of the flames,\nwhere firewood is kept dry, ready for immediate use, and where scraps\nof pork may be preserved by the smoke. Here and there, on the walls, on\nhooks made of deer horn or of the twisted branch of a tree, hang all\nsorts of implements for farming, fishing, and hunting, little hoes for\nweeding the rice-fields, home-made axes called \u2018biliong,\u2019 scoop-nets for\ncatching fish when the streams are poisoned with Tuba root, paddles,\nspears, large round sun-hats, basket-like holders for the few but\nvaluable china plates used only on feast-days, and sometimes, as a mural\ndecoration, the warrior\u2019s coat and shield are displayed; these personal\nadornments, however, are usually kept in the little sleeping-closets, or\nelse in a wooden case attached to the wall of the veranda just outside\nthe room.\n\n[Illustration: A FAMILY-ROOM, OR LAMIN, IN ABUN\u2019S HOUSE ON THE BARAM.\n\nBEYOND THE MAN SLEEPING ON THE FLOOR, IS THE FIRE-PLACE; ABOVE IT, A RACK\nWHEREON WOOD IS KEPT DRY, READY FOR USE. ON THE LEFT OF THE FIRE-PLACE\nIS A DOORWAY OPENING INTO ONE OF THE SMALL SLEEPING-CLOSETS FOR THE\nMARRIED PEOPLE OR FOR THE UNMARRIED GIRLS. LEANING AGAINST THE WALL IS\nA BAMBOO WATER PITCHER WITH A COVER OF PALM-LEAF MATTING; ABOVE, HANGS\nA BASKETWORK CASE FOR HOLDING CHINA PLATES. ON THE WALLS OF THE ALCOVE\nARE HANGING SEVERAL LARGE, FLAT, PALM-LEAF HATS, A SCOOP-NET, AND A FLAT\nSIEVE OF SPLIT RATTAN. THIS ALCOVE, WITH ITS SLIGHTLY RAISED FLOOR, IS\nTHE SLEEPING-PLACE FOR THE UNMARRIED MEN OF THE FAMILY, OR FOR THE MALE\nSLAVES.]\n\nThese sleeping-closets, partitioned off for married couples or for\nunmarried girls and widows to sleep in, are as dark and stuffy as closely\nfitting planks can make them, and the bed is merely two or three broad\nand smooth planks whereon a fine rattan matting is spread; sometimes a\nroll of matting or a bundle of old cloth serves as a pillow, but more\noften there is nothing but the flat boards. On one occasion, I was\nushered into the bedroom of a Chief\u2019s daughter who was ill with the\ngrippe and had asked for medicine; it was almost pathetic to note the\nattempt that this poor \u2018first lady\u2019 had made to adorn her little boudoir.\nBy the light of a sputtering lump of damar gum, burning in an earthen\ndish and disseminating mainly an aromatic smell and dense smoke, and only\nincidentally a flickering light, I could see that there had been fastened\non the walls bright pieces of gay-colored cloth, and over in one corner,\nin a sort of pyramid, were her \u2018ladyship\u2019s\u2019 best bead-work baskets;\neven ill as she was she called my attention to them. She was tossing in\nfever on the most uncomfortable bundles of coarse cotton calico, (sadly\nin need of washing,) which she had crumpled in folds to counteract the\nunevennesses of her bed of planks. Grippe is intolerable enough when\nthe patient is surrounded with every comfort, on a soft clean bed and\nin an airy room, but the lowest depth of discomfort is reached when to\nthe fever are added a sweltering tropical heat in a dark closet, the air\ndense with damar smoke and soot, a bed of hard boards, and never a drop\nof ice-water. Yet in the midst of all these, the girl, fortunate in her\nignorance, was dignified and uncomplaining.\n\nOn all ordinary occasions, the family eat together, usually only twice\na day, morning and evening, in the family room. In the centre of the\nroom is placed a large wooden dish piled high with boiled rice, and\nthen, as a plate for each member of the family, is set a piece of fresh\nbanana leaf, whereon are a little salt and a small quantity of powdered\ndried fish, highly odorous; this is the usual bill of fare, but it may\nbe supplemented with a sort of mush or stew of fern-frond sprouts and\nrice, or with boiled Caladium roots and roasted wild yams. When there is\na feast and guests from neighboring houses come to dine, the meals are\nspread in the veranda and the menu is enlarged with pork and chicken,\ncooked in joints of bamboo, which have been stoppered at both ends with\ngreen leaves, and put in the fire until they are burnt through, when the\ncooking is done to a turn.\n\nAll hands are plunged into the common dish of plain boiled rice, and it\nis \u2018excellent form\u2019 to cram and jam the mouth as full as it will hold. It\nis, however, remarkable how deftly even little children can so manipulate\nthe boiled rice before conveying it to their mouths, that hardly a grain\nis spilt; it always filled me with shame when dining _en famille_ with\nthe Kayans or Kenyahs to note what a mess of scattered rice I left on the\nmat at my place, while their places were clean as when they sat down; to\nbe sure, I did not follow my hosts\u2019 example in carefully gathering up and\ndevouring all that had fallen on the unswept floor. Whenever I apologized\nfor my clumsiness, their courtesy was always perfect; the fault was never\nattributed to me, but rather to their poor food and the manner in which\nit was served.\n\nThe long intervals between their meals and the unsubstantial quality\nof their food give them such an appetite and force them to eat so\nvoraciously that the usual welcome by a Kayan host to his guests is, \u2018Eat\nslowly,\u2019 and this admonition is unfailingly given. They seem to regard\ntheir family meals as strictly private, and would always announce to us\nthat they were going to eat,\u2014possibly to give us warning not to visit\nthem at that time, and they were also quite as punctilious to leave us\nthe moment that our food was served.\n\nWhen any member of a family is ill and calls in the services of an\nexorciser, or, as they call it, a \u2018Dayong,\u2019 the room is placed under\na taboo, or permantong, and only members of the family may enter, and\neven they are under certain restrictions, for instance, to refrain from\nsinging or playing musical instruments, and they are debarred from\neating meat. The sign of a taboo is a bunch of green leaves or a flat\nbasket used in winnowing rice tied to the door-post. If, by accident, a\nman should violate this taboo, he must pay a fine to the owners of the\ntabooed room; this fine is usually a few cheap beads or a china plate.\nThey seem to regard this custom with such reverence that we availed\nourselves of its privileges whenever we wished for privacy, and although\nthe natives laughed at our adoption of their customs, they left us\nnevertheless strictly alone when we tied a basket or a bunch of leaves in\nfront of our little apartment in the veranda.\n\n[Illustration: VERANDA OF A NEWLY BUILT IBAN HOUSE ON THE BAKONG RIVER, A\nTRIBUTARY OF THE BARAM.\n\nTHE SKULLS ARE HANGING NEAR THE VERY END OF THE VERANDA IN A CLOSE\nCLUSTER, AND NOT SUSPENDED ALONG A BEAM. THE FLOORING IS OF STRIPS OF\nTHE STALK OF THE NIBONG PALM, INTERLACED AND TIED TO THE BEAMS. THE\nLOW, SQUARE BOX IN THE FOREGROUND IS A HEARTH, LINED WITH CLAY AND FLAT\nSTONES. BESIDE IT ON THE FLOOR, AND ALSO HANGING FROM A RAFTER IN THE\nUPPER LEFT-HAND CORNER, ARE WATER GOURDS. IN FRONT OF THE DOOR, LEADING\nINTO ONE OF THE FAMILY-ROOMS, A WOODEN RICE MORTAR IS TURNED UPSIDE DOWN.\nON THE DOOR IS HUNG A FLAT BASKET, TO INDICATE THAT THE ROOM IS TABOOED\nON ACCOUNT OF ILLNESS. BEYOND THE RANGE OF THE PHOTOGRAPH ON THE LEFT,\nAND EXTENDING OUT INTO THE OPEN AIR IS A WIDE PLATFORM OF SPLIT BAMBOO,\nWHEREON THE RICE BEFORE IT IS HUSKED IS SPREAD OUT ON MATS TO DRY.]\n\nPossibly, this description of Home-Life in a Borneo household would be\nincomplete without a detailed account of its ordinary daily routine,\nwhich, as I saw it during several weeks in Tama Bulan\u2019s house, is\nsomewhat as follows:\u2014[2]\n\nThe crow of a cock breaks the silence of the night; then a dog rouses\nup, yawns and stretches, and shakes off the ashes of the fireplace where\nit has been sleeping, and begins the daily round of quarrels with its\ncompanions. Then daylight gradually creeps in and a door slams with a\nbang at the far end of the house, where the poorer and hard-working\npeople live; a woman with a bundle of bamboo water-vessels slung on her\nback hurries along to the stairway down to the river. She looks just the\nsame as when she went to sleep. Her dress is the same and her hair is\nin a disordered tangle, and as she walks her feet come down heavily on\nthe warped planks and make them rattle, no doubt to wake the lazy men,\nwho sleep on and let the women make the fire and get the water while\nthey snooze. Soon she comes back, her hair dripping and glossy, and\nlittle drops of water still clinging to her skin. By this time there\nis quite a procession of women going down to bathe and get the cooking\nwater from the river, and there is a slamming of doors and a few wails\nfrom the children. Then the men who have been sleeping on the raised\nplatform along the open space below the eaves, unroll themselves from\ntheir shroud-like coverings of cotton cloth, once white, and a little\nhum of conversation springs up, possibly a comparison of dreams, the\ninterpretation of which, as in all uneducated classes, has a great\nbearing on their daily life. The mother who comes out with her babies in\nher arms, or sitting astride of her hips, knows nothing of our custom of\ncaressing with a kiss, but in her maternal bursts of affection she buries\nher face in the neck of the child and draws in a long breath through her\nnostrils; in fact, she smells it. In their language the verbs _to smell_\nand _to kiss_ are the same. Then down she goes to the river and takes\nthe morning bath with her child in her arms, sometimes holding it by the\nhands and letting it kick out its legs like a frog,\u2014the first lessons\nin swimming. One by one the men straggle off to bathe in the river,\nand never missed the opportunity of telling us that they were going to\nbathe, and when they returned they were also most punctilious in telling\nus that they _had_ bathed. With all this bathing, however, they are not\na clean people. Soap is unknown to them, and they never use hot water,\nconsequently their skins have not the soft, velvety appearance that\nconstant bathing usually produces. (We once gave some of the girls cakes\nof Pears\u2019 soap, but they ate them.)\n\nAfter bathing there is a lull in the activity of the house, while the\nmarried women and young girls cook the morning meal of boiled rice and\ndried salted fish.\n\nBreakfast over there are always parties of men and women setting out for\nthe clearings where the rice is planted, and armed with a billiong (an\nadze-like axe, which they use) and their parang, and their spear, the\nmen go down and get the boats ready, and the women follow after with the\npaddles, and hampers to bring back bananas or bunches of tender, young\nfern-fronds, which they make into a stew. Then the house settles down to\nthe ordinary tasks of making large flat hats of palm leaves, drying and\nflattening banana leaves for cigarette wrappers, or of pounding the husks\noff the rice by the women, and sharpening spears or decorating parangs\nby the men industriously inclined; but the latter are rare. They usually\nspend their time in gossip with their companions or merely sit and blink,\nsoothed by long draughts of smoke drawn deep into their lungs from the\nstrong Java tobacco cigarettes, which they roll for themselves. Men,\nwomen, and children all smoke.\n\nMorning wears into afternoon, and then the hours are given up to\nrecreation by those who had not gone in the forenoon to the rice-fields.\nOccasionally, we sat on the river-bank and watched from a high bluff the\nyoung boys or the young girls playing in the water. Here let me say that\nwe never saw the faintest conscious immodesty in either the one or the\nother. We used to sit lost in admiration at the skill of the girls in\nswimming. It was a sort of game of tag that they were always playing,\nonly, instead of one chasing all, all chased one, and this one would get\noff some little distance from the rest and then suddenly disappear under\nwater. Then the chase begins. All swim as fast as they can to the spot\nwhere she had vanished, some swimming with a rapid overhand stroke, while\nothers swam entirely under the water. Then, possibly still in front of\nthem, possibly far behind, up bobbed the girl who was \u2018_it_,\u2019 shaking\nthe water from her eyes and giving a shout of derision at her pursuers.\nDown she went again and the chase was renewed, all under water, so long,\nsometimes, that the surface of the river became perfectly smooth, and no\none would have imagined that in another moment it would be again bubbling\nup and dashed into spray by a crowd of laughing, shouting, black-haired,\nmerry girls. Back and forth, up and down, they splashed from one side\nof the river to the other, until one of the men called to them from the\nhouse to stop their sport lest they rouse a sleeping crocodile. This put\nan end to the fun. Another thing, which was quite new to us, was the\nway in which they could play a sort of tune by splashing their hands\nin the water and flapping their arms to their sides. They stood in a\ngroup, and by sinking their hands, the back downward, in the water and\nthen clapping them above the water and slapping their elbows to their\nsides, they produced a series of different sounds, like that of a large\nstone dropping into a deep pool, with a rhythm that was perfect and very\npleasing.\n\nAfternoon deepens into dusk, and the workers from the fields come home\nand trudge wearily up the bank and disappear through the little doorways.\nSmall flickering lamps are lit here and there, and the fire on the hearth\ndisseminates a cheery glow and warms up the row of human skulls hanging\nin front of the Chief\u2019s door. The veranda gradually becomes deserted,\neven by the dogs, while the families are eating their evening meals in\ntheir private rooms. The noisy flapping of wings and cackling of chickens\nseeking their roosts for the night and the low, contented grunts of pigs\nbeneath the house betoken that the day\u2019s foraging is over.\n\nAfter the evening meal the men once more lounge out in the veranda and,\ngrouped about the low, smouldering fires, smoke their long cigarettes\nand gossip, or listen to the drone of the Kaluri played by one of the\nyouths. By eight or nine o\u2019clock they are all once more wrapped in their\ncoverings of cotton cloth, and, stretched in a row beneath the eaves,\nlulled by \u2018lisp of leaves or ripple of rain.\u2019\n\n\n\n\n_CEREMONIES AT THE NAMING OF A CHIEF\u2019S SON_\n\n\nOne day, during my second visit to Borneo, I was sitting in the veranda\nof a native\u2019s house on the Tinjar River, chatting and gossiping with my\nhost and his household, when I noticed in the group a man whose face was\nvery familiar to me and closely associated with some incident or other\nin the year before; I looked at him for a minute, and then asked if he\nwere not the man who had so effectively helped us when we were unable to\nfind men to paddle our canoe down the river from the house of deceitful\nold Laki La. He modestly replied that he was one of the men; whereupon\nI reiterated my gratitude to him; but, unfortunately, his name, once so\nfamiliar to me, had quite escaped my memory, and, apologizing for my\nforgetfulness, I asked him what it was. His countenance fell; he looked\nmuch embarrassed for a moment, and then nudging the man sitting next\nto him looked from him to me. His neighbor took the hint, and at once\ntold me the name, which was one I had never before heard; I concluded,\ntherefore, that either he or I had mistaken the incident. A little while\nafterward I happened to meet the man again when he was alone, and being\nso sure in my recollection of his face, asked him if that were really\nhis name which had been told to me; he assured me that it was, but even\nthen I doubted, and insisted that it was not the name by which I had\nknown him a year ago. \u2018You are quite right, Tuan,\u2019 he replied, \u2018but\nsince you were here I have been exceedingly sick\u2014so sick that the evil\nSpirits were trying to make my soul wander away from my body [and here\nhis voice dropped to a whisper]; so I changed my name; now they will not\nknow where to find me.\u2019 He looked furtively on all sides, as if afraid\nthat the trick would be overheard by the Spirits; it was only after\nmuch persuasion and repeated assurances that the Spirits could never\nharm him through a white man that I induced him to tell me his former\nname, which he did in a timid whisper close to my ear. This incident,\ntrifling in itself, is valuable, I think, in that it adds another to the\nlist of instances recorded in Dr. J. G. Frazer\u2019s valuable _The Golden\nBough_ (vol. i., pp. 404-420), where the utterance of a personal name is\nfraught with an unknown and deadly peril. To speculate on the source of\nthis mysterious dread is tempting enough,\u2014especially since in theorizing\nabout the beliefs prevalent in the youth of the world there is no one\nwho can contradict. As to its antiquity there can be no doubt; and that\nit is well nigh universal, the records of folk-lore are full of proof.\nIt is sufficient here and now to note its existence among the Kayans and\nKenyahs in the interior of Borneo, where, moreover, this unwillingness\nto utter the name of a person extends to inanimate objects. When they\nhave planned a Tuba fishing, nothing will induce them to utter the word\nfor fish. A Kayan, Kenyah, or Punan never thinks of saying that he is\ngoing to search for camphor, but that he is going to look for the \u2018thing\nthat smells,\u2019 and even this he says in a whisper, for fear the camphor\ncrystals deep in their secret, native home might hear and elude him after\nhe had all the trouble of chopping down the tree.\n\n[Illustration: TAMA BULAN, THE MOST INTELLIGENT CHIEF IN THE BARAM\nDISTRICT.\n\nHE IS OF THE KENYAH TRIBE, AND LIVES ON THE PATA RIVER, ABOUT TWO HUNDRED\nMILES FROM THE COAST. THE NAME TAMA BULAN MEANS \u2018FATHER OF MOON,\u2019 AND WAS\nASSUMED AFTER THE BIRTH OF HIS FIRST CHILD, A DAUGHTER, NAMED \u2018BULAN.\u2019\nHIS PREVIOUS NAME WAS WANG.]\n\nThese superstitions connected with the utterance of a name are deeply\nrooted among the Borneans, but the interdiction on the speaking of names\nof relatives is not so extended as it is among some other primitive\npeople, notably the Kaffir women of South Africa, who may not speak a\nword, or even a word containing a syllable, resembling their husband\u2019s\nname or the names of any of his male relatives, but must use paraphrases\nwhich do not contain the interdicted syllables.[3] Among the Kayans and\nKenyahs, as far as I know, the restriction on the utterance of names of\nrelatives extends only to the fathers-in-law of a married couple, whose\nnames must not be mentioned by either the husband or the wife. Again,\nit is most ill-omened for a son to mention his dead father\u2019s name; and,\nof course, neither man nor woman dare pronounce their own name; this is\na downright courting of all conceivable disasters and diseases. It is\nquite possible that this unwillingness to mention their own name leads\nthem to adopt a substitution, which for every-day use sufficiently\ndesignates them. Thus, when a child is born the parents substitute for\ntheir own names the name of the child prefixed by \u2018Tama,\u2019\u2014_father of_,\u2014or\n\u2018Tina,\u2019\u2014_mother of_,\u2014a highly ingenious device; the combination thus\nformed is really no name at all; it is merely a designation. On the\nsame principle, when wife or husband dies the survivor is designated as\n\u2018Aban,\u2019\u2014_widower_,\u2014or \u2018B\u00e1llo,\u2019\u2014_widow_,\u2014of such a one. The simple-hearted\nfolk evidently believe the Spirits to be the very strictest of\nconstructionists, and that they pay no attention to anything but the name\nitself, pure and uncombined; to a substitution they pay no heed.\n\nOne might suppose that under such circumstances it would be rather more\nconvenient, certainly far less hazardous, to have no name at all. But\nwithout a name there would be no existence,\u2014how could a nameless thing\nbe admitted to \u2018Apo Legan,\u2019 or Heaven? The receiving of a name is really\nthe starting-point of life; and the bestowal of a name by the parents\nis probably the most serious of parental duties, and to be performed\nwith ceremonies proportioned to their rank. So essential is the ceremony\nof naming that in the enumeration of a family an unnamed child is not\ncounted; and should a child die before the ceremony of naming, a Kayan\nor Kenyah mother would mourn for it no more deeply than had it been\nstillborn. This is true even when an unnamed child lives to be nearly a\nyear old.\n\nChildren of the labouring classes are named at the completion of what\nthe father considers a successful harvest of rice; and the day is set\nfor the ceremony when the phase of the moon is deemed auspicious; the\nrest of the household, with the exception of the few friends who assist,\nis undisturbed. When, however, the son of a Chief is to be named, and\nthereby admitted into the circle of kindred or into humanity, the\noccasion is made a holiday, and a feast-day for the whole community, and\nfriendly households far and near for miles around are summoned to attend.\nIt was on such an occasion as this, that we, Dr. Hiller and myself, had\nthe rare fortune to be the visitors of Tama Bulan, the most influential\nChief in the Baram District of Sarawak.\n\nWe had but recently come to Borneo when we first met Tama Bulan at\nthe Baram Fort, whither he had come to attend a peacemaking and\nratification of friendship with certain Ibans who had recently moved\ninto the district, and also to barter at the Bazaar the rattans, raw\ngutta-percha, and camphor that his people had collected. We were much\nimpressed with the sedate dignity of this inland Chief and the quiet\ndemeanor of his people, and greatly desired to become more thoroughly\nacquainted with them. As he was sitting cross-legged on the veranda of\nDr. Hose\u2019s bungalow and discussing the affairs of the up-river people,\nhe mentioned with pride that as soon as he reached home there were to\nbe great feastings and ceremonies over the naming of his only son.\nHere was the chance of a life-time could we but induce him to let us\nbe present during these ceremonies. We were totally unacquainted with\nTama Bulan\u2019s language,\u2014the Kenyah,\u2014or even with Malay, the Lingua Franca\nthroughout Borneo and the greater part of the adjacent islands,\u2014but what\nof that? Sign language is all sufficient at a pinch, and, furthermore, a\nvocabulary of a hundred and fifty to two hundred words is soon acquired,\nand, in simple Polynesian dialects, will prove adequate for all ordinary\npurposes. I doubt if any Caucasian has ever witnessed these ceremonies\nas observed by the Kenyahs; at any rate, as far as I know, they have\nnever been recorded; accordingly, we strenuously urged Dr. Hose to obtain\nfor us an invitation. When he, finally, with much tact, told the Kenyah\nChief how anxious we were to return with him and pay him a visit in his\nhome, the proposal was listened to with unusual gravity. Tama Bulan\u2019s\nkeen black eyes studied us very carefully from head to foot; evidently\nhe was weighing the chances of possible accidents either to us or to\nhis people. At last he broke silence, and, having in mind the dangerous\nrapids in the river, his first question was, \u2018Can the Tuans [_gentlemen_]\nswim?\u2019 When assured that we were adepts in that art, he deliberated again\nfor a while, and then asked, \u2018How can we get along without talking? the\nTuans cannot speak my language, nor can I speak theirs.\u2019 This objection\nwas put aside by Dr. Hose, who flatteringly rejoined, \u2018Ah, Tama Bulan\ndoes not know the power of the white man as well as I thought he did.\nThe Tuans are so clever that in two days they will be able to speak your\nlanguage as well as you do yourself; everything is easy to a white man.\u2019\nWhereat Tama Bulan smiled broadly, and, after another searching gaze,\nconsented to let us return with him,\u2014provided the government would not\nhold him responsible for any accidents. And so it was agreed, and the\nmatter settled. But for some time my conscience did not acquit me of the\nconviction that we had forced ourselves unwarrantably on an unwilling\nhost; however, I solaced myself with the cheering reflection that we\ncould amply recompense him at the close of our visit.\n\nTama Bulan is a Chief of the Kenyah tribe, and his home is between three\nand four hundred miles in the interior of the island, on the Pata River,\na tributary of the Baram. His house is one of the largest and best built\nin that large district, and is, moreover, conducted on rigid principles\nof Kenyah morality. Of course, in such a community theft is unknown,\nwhere every one knows every article of property belonging to the others.\nThieving being thus eliminated, one of the strictest rules in Tama\nBulan\u2019s house is that no woman, young or old, shall frequent the veranda\nafter nightfall; young girls must remain in their family apartments, and\nif they have sweethearts they must entertain these sweethearts there,\nand not sit sentimentally with them in convenient dark corners, whereof\nthere is no lack in a veranda. Another of Tama Bulan\u2019s rules is wisely\nsanitary, namely, that no rice may be hulled in the veranda; the dust\narising from the chaff is not only irritating to the nostrils, but is\nalso apt to produce an itching rash on the skins of young children and\ninfants. To each family is apportioned a small shed at the back of the\nhouse for the threshing and hulling of the rice; and where, moreover, the\nworkers are to a certain degree secluded, and not liable to distraction\nand idleness as they would be in a veranda.\n\nTama Bulan himself is one of the best types of a Bornean Chief. Although\nonly about five or six years ago he was a passionate head-hunter (and\nis still, I believe, in his heart of heart, having been carefully and\nreligiously brought up by his parents), he is now a genuinely loyal and\nhighly valuable subject to Rajah Brooke, and has been made a member of\nthe \u2018Council Negri,\u2019 a legislative body composed of the Rajah, of the\nEnglish Resident Officers of the first class, of several of the most\ninfluential Malays in Kuching, the capital of Sarawak, and of three or\nfour of the most trustworthy and intelligent of the native Chiefs. This\nCouncil Negri, one of the admirable devices of that wise legislator,\nRajah Brooke, meets once a year to discuss what might be termed national\naffairs, and to lay before the Rajah all complaints or suggestions.\n\n[Illustration: THE HANDLE OF A PARANG, OR SHORT SWORD, CARVED OUT OF\nDEER\u2019S HORN, AND DECORATED WITH TUFTS OF HUMAN HAIR AND WHITE GOAT\u2019S\nHAIR. THE DESIGN IS CALLED \u201cKOHONG KALUNAN\u201d\u2014A MAN\u2019S HEAD, BECAUSE IT IS\nCOMPOSED OF SEVERAL GROTESQUE FACES.]\n\nOur host, with whom we became eventually intimately acquainted, and of\nwhom I became very fond, (his staunch friendship on one occasion saved\nour lives,) was a man of about forty-five, well built, but not muscular\nin appearance, about five feet six inches tall, his face broad, cheek\nbones somewhat high, eyes wide apart, lips thin, and mouth large but well\nshaped; his smile is ready, kind, and benignant, and his laugh reveals\ntwo rows of polished, regular, and highly blackened teeth. In his general\nexpression there is not the least suggestion of what we are pleased to\nterm a savage; his demeanor was quiet, unobtrusive, and dignified, and\nhis voice soft and subdued. In obedience to fashion (to whose behests\nevery son of Adam is a slave) his ear-lobes are pierced, and by means\nof heavy copper rings, inserted in early infancy, are so elongated that\nthey almost touch his shoulder. The upper part of each ear is also\nperforated, so as to permit the insertion of a tiger-cat\u2019s tooth; this\nornament is, however, inserted only for full dress; in every-day life\na plug of wood about half an inch in diameter is substituted. These\n\u2018looped and windowed\u2019 ears serve, in the lack of clothing, as pockets,\nand are extremely convenient receptacles of cigarettes, or even of boxes\nof matches. His head is shaved in a straight line extending horizontally\nfrom one temple to another, but his straight, black hair is allowed to\ngrow long at the back. I describe Tama Bulan thus somewhat at length\nbecause he is a typical and pure-blooded Kenyah.\n\nThe skin of the Kenyahs and Kayans is not yellow, but somewhat darker\nthan a Chinaman\u2019s; they have none of the characteristics of the\nthick-lipped African negro, nor have they the bushy, krinkly hair of\nthe Papuans; nor the almond eyes, or the stretched inner canthus of the\nMongolians.\n\nOn ordinary occasions, they wear nothing but a loin-cloth, made either\nof bark fibre of native manufacture, or of red, white, or black cotton\ncloth, bought from Chinese traders in the Bazaar (the Malay name for a\ntrading-post). On their heads they wear a close-fitting, pointed cap made\nof thin strips of rattan, (or \u2018rotan\u2019 as they call it,) or of bamboo\nwoven into a pretty chequered pattern of black and yellow; when exposed\nto the sun they often exchange this skull cap for a broad, flat disc\nmade of palm leaves and tied to the head.\n\nIn order that we might not burden Tama Bulan and his canoes with our\nheavy luggage of several boxes of tinned provisions, cooking utensils,\nand not a few articles for judicious presents, such as tobacco, bolts of\ncheap cotton cloth, and a quantity of steel bars, wherefrom the natives\nforge parangs and spear-heads, Dr. Hose kindly lent his large dug-out,\nwhich afforded comfortable quarters for ourselves and also (a pleasant\narrangement) for our host, the Chief. The dug-out was about sixty feet\nlong and five feet wide amidship, made of a single log, but deepened\nconsiderably by the addition of planks bound along the sides with rattan\nand caulked, thus giving about six inches of additional freeboard. The\nparty consisted of eight canoes, bearing Tama Bulan\u2019s followers, and as\nthey swung into view after their start from the Bazaar, a short distance\nbelow Dr. Hose\u2019s bungalow, which stands on a high and steep bluff,\nthey shouted to us and loudly rapped their paddles on the sides of the\ncanoes, by way of urging us to hurry down to the bank, so great was their\nimpatience to be fairly started on the homeward voyage. We had divided\nthe central third of the canoe into two compartments, separated from each\nother by our luggage, sleeping mats, mosquito curtains, etc.; in the\nforward division we took up our quarters, reserving the aft division for\nTama Bulan, who seemed to fill and overflow it with his shields, parangs,\nlarge sun-hats, bundles and baskets packed with cheap cloths, Malay\nsarongs, heavy copper ear-rings, pressed glass bowls, and beads of every\ndescription,\u2014all commissions executed for his household and received in\nexchange for jungle products. Where, or how he managed to sleep I cannot\nimagine,\u2014but he was the Chief, and uneasy lies the head that wears a\ncrown. As for us, we were really comfortable with rubber blankets and\nthick rugs spread over the flooring of bamboo strips which rested on\nthe thwarts amidship, except that after awhile, as sitting cross-legged\nbecame misery, we longed for a chance to dangle our legs. Overhead was a\nroof of \u2018kajangs\u2019\u2014a thin thatch of palm leaves\u2014to protect us from the sun\nand rain. As soon as the canoe was all packed, and our Chinese cook and\ntwo Malay servants were properly ensconced in other canoes, and it took\na deal of excited shouting and innumerable shiftings before this was\naccomplished to the satisfaction of the crew of each canoe, the word was\ngiven, and with a few powerful strokes from the paddles which sent the\nspray dashing and the water eddying all about us, we were round the turn\nof the river and had bid adieu to even such comfort and civilization as\nthe Baram Bazaar affords, and had fairly started on this journey to the\nfar interior of Borneo, with its untold possibilities, at the mercy of\nunknown natives, of whose very language we knew not a word.\n\n[Illustration: THE CHINESE BAZAAR AT CLAUDETOWN\u2014BARAM FORT.\n\nIT CONSISTS OF A ROW OF SEPARATE SHOPS, WITH A WIDE VERANDA IN FRONT.\nTO TEMPT THE NATIVES, THERE IS THEREIN DISPLAYED EVERY VARIETY OF\nMERCHANDISE, FROM GLASS BEADS TO SEWING MACHINES, FROM SILK SCARFS TO\nCALICO, FROM ARRACK TO WHITE-SEAL CHAMPAGNE, FROM CHINESE CONFECTIONS TO\nPATENT MEDICINES.\n\nMEXICAN DOLLARS ARE THE MEDIUM OF EXCHANGE, BUT A LARGE PART OF THE\nTRADING IS IN THE JUNGLE PRODUCTS COLLECTED BY THE NATIVES, SUCH AS\nRATTANS, GUTTA-PERCHA, CAMPHOR CRYSTALS, TAPIOCA, SAGO, RHINOCEROS HORN,\nEDIBLE BIRDS\u2019-NESTS, ETC.\n\nIN THE PHOTOGRAPH, WHICH WAS TAKEN DURING THE RAINY SEASON, WHEN STEAMERS\nCANNOT CROSS THE BARAM BAR, THE OPEN SPACE IN FRONT OF THE ROW OF SHOPS\nIS PILED UP WITH RATTANS AWAITING SHIPMENT. THE GROUP OF IBANS CLAD IN\nMALAY SARONGS ARE ADJUSTING THE GAFFS ON A FIGHTING-COCK PREPARATORY TO\nENGAGING IN ONE OF THEIR FAVOURITE SPORTS.]\n\nUntil the central high-lands of Borneo are reached, the river scenery\nis utterly uninteresting and monotonous; near the coast, where the\nriver water is still brackish, the banks are lined with the feathery\nNipa palm with fronds like stiff ferns, often forty feet high. These\npalms have no stalk, but start in a cluster close to the ground or just\nat the surface of the water, and grow so close together as to make an\nalmost impenetrable wall. At first they appear beyond measure beautiful,\nwith their polished, glancing leaves, quivering and wavering with every\nbreath of air; and the gleam of the dark maroon mid-rib of the leaves\nswaying slowly with the motion adds a flickering light to the deep\nshadows, suggestive of mystery through the illimitable aisles beneath\nthe over-arching fronds. But a closer acquaintance reveals the realm of\ncrocodiles and snakes, not to mention the unromantic mosquito, diminutive\nin size but mighty to annoy. [Once on a time, in the salad days of my\nBorneo life, I tried to take a photograph in the depth of a Nipa swamp,\nbut indeed, the torment of the myriads of rapacious and voracious\nmosquitoes which attacked me while making the necessary exposure was\nabsolutely intolerable. When I threw the focussing cloth over my head\nI entrapped unwittingly so many mosquitoes that I could hardly see to\nfocus; in one minute they had stung me on the lips, cheeks, eyelids,\nwithin the nostrils, and on the ears. I am not a coward, but I really\ncould not face, literally, the overwhelming onslaught for the two minutes\nwhich, on account of the dim light, were necessary for the exposure; the\npoor wretch of an Iban who was with me, clad only in his loin-cloth,\nactually cried and moaned with the suffering; my negative turned out to\nhave been under-exposed because both of us had been over-exposed.] After\ntwenty or thirty miles of this unbroken wall of Nipa palms the charm\ndiminishes, until at last all beauty is lost in satiety and the sight\nbecomes infinitely tedious. It is, by the way, from these Nipa palms thus\ngrowing in brackish water that the natives obtain salt; the ashes of the\nstalks, leaves, and roots are soaked in water, which, when the water is\nevaporated, yields a very dirty looking salt, much preferred, however,\nby the natives to that which can be bought in the Bazaar. Where the Nipa\npalms end wild sugar-cane begins, and its gray-green, grassy stalks\nbecome quite as monotonous as the Nipa; it is not until the low muddy\nbanks of the river change, first to sandy and then to pebbly beaches,\nthat the real beauty of the river begins.\n\nNotwithstanding the exciting novelty of our situation I cannot say that\nthat first day passed quickly, or that it was full of interest; a day is\na long time when it is spent hour after hour in gliding along a wall of\nunvarying green. Tama Bulan\u2019s last purchase at the Bazaar was a Chinese\ntea \u2018cosy\u2019\u2014a little cylindrical basket lined with felt, holding a small\nteapot closely fitted and keeping the tea hot for a long time. Every five\nminutes, as it seemed, we heard the click of the hasp; then the creak of\nthe cover as the teapot was lifted out; then a loud and prolonged sucking\nsound as Tama Bulan luxuriously drained with infinite gusto a diminutive\ncup of tea. I am quite sure that the teapot was so often replenished\nfrom the river that it yielded, finally, nothing but tepid and muddy\nwater,\u2014but ah! the charm of drinking from a china teapot and quaffing\nwith an ecstatic gurgle! The old Chief often peered through a little\ncrevice in the pile of luggage between us, and then he would chuckle and\ngive vent to a flow of words which bubbled out so fluently between his\nbroad smile and his blackened teeth that they seemed to stumble over\nthemselves and end off in fit of coughing. We smiled, nodded, mumbled,\nand pretended to understand it all,\u2014even the cough.\n\nToward dusk of the first day we halted at a sloping sand-bank, enclosed\non three sides by a dense hedge of wild sugar-cane, full of mysterious\nrustlings and sighings, and stretching far over the low ground to the\nbeginning of the jungle. The other boats of our party were already tied\nup to the shore, and the brown-skinned men in their scarlet waist-cloths\nwere bustling about collecting fire-wood and building cranes whereon\nto hang their little kettles of rice. A row of fires was soon started,\nand the short twilight of the tropics deepened into dark; the dancing\nfires cast giant shadows on the gray-green leaves of the wild sugar-cane,\nand lit up the intent faces of the natives and their glistening eyes\nand brass-studded teeth as they squatted about the fires or stirred\nthe bubbling pots. When the meal was ended and they were smoking long\ncigarettes of Java tobacco rolled in the dried leaf of the wild banana,\nthe moon rose and the embers of the fires were scattered. To become\nmore at home with our hosts and fellow travellers we entered into their\ngames and contests in broad jumping, high jumping, and tugs of war. Alas\nfor me, I was indiscreet enough to turn a handspring for them, and also\nwalk on my hands, feats that apparently were perfectly new to them; ever\nafter I was introduced by Tama Bulan to his friends with the laudatory\nremark that I could walk on my hands and turn over; whereupon, be it\non muddy bank or hard floor, I was incontinently obliged to repeat the\nperformance.\n\n[Illustration: SCENE ON THE BARAM\n\nA RAFT BRINGING RATTANS TO THE BAZAAR.]\n\nWhen the Chief retired to his boat it was the signal for the general\nbreaking up of the pastime. Grass mats were brought from the boats and\nspread on the sand, whereon the men threw themselves, and, in the soft\nlight of the tropical moon, we were all soon lulled to sleep by the\nconstant drone and chirp of nocturnal insects.\n\nEarly the next morning we awoke and saw, by the light of the setting\nmoon, the men shaking out their mats and making preparations for starting\noff. We were soon under way once more, and between waking and sleeping\nwe were conscious of the rhythmical click of the paddles and of an\noccasional command of \u2018Mishai! Mishai!\u2019 from Tama Bulan to the rowers to\nwield their paddles stronger and faster.\n\nIt is not worth while to give in detail all the long fifteen days of\nour journey up the river, or of our visits to the various houses on our\nway; as may be readily inferred, there were many hours, monotonous,\nweary, and at times perplexing; three men died of the grippe,\u2014which\nseems to have penetrated this most remote corner of the world, and was\nat that time fairly epidemic on the Baram. Unfortunately for us, these\ndeaths were attributed to our presence; a council was held, and we were,\nin consequence, requested to return; but we protested our innocence,\nasseverated our friendship, and having already come so far begged to\nbe allowed to go on, and finally allayed their fears and gained their\nconsent. We distributed tobacco and medicine freely, and held numerous\nclinics in our boat and on the river-banks, for the treatment of a\ntroublesome inflammation of the eyes, probably due to the depilation\nof eyelashes, added to constant bathing in the muddy, turbid river. At\none time the rains descended and the floods came, and for five mortal\ndays we were tied up to the bank of the river, unable to advance on\naccount of the irresistible current and of the immense logs and trees\nthat were constantly brought down by the stream. During this enforced\ninactivity we became better and better acquainted with our companions;\nwe learned their names and a generous smattering of their language,\u2014an\neasy task; we powdered many and many a wound and abrasion with iodoform,\nwhereof the color and smell delighted them, and brought us greatly into\nfavor. From the boys who accompanied the party, and who acted as general\n\u2018slaveys,\u2019 we picked up most of our familiarity with the language;\nthey were always ready to talk unconstrainedly with us, and we amused\nourselves while amusing them. One little fellow in particular we never\ngrew tired of watching; his actions were as quick and inquisitive as\nthose of a monkey, with the added revelation of a shrewd intelligence. I\nblush to confess that we taught him the bad manners of putting his thumb\nto his nose and wiggling his fingers whenever his elders told him to do\nanything for them; the outraged indignation with which this perfectly\nnovel and insulting gesture was received, and the sly winks little Adom\ngave us over his shoulder, at every repetition, were truly delightful.\nOne day we painted him from head to foot, with water colors, in stripes\nof blue, green, yellow, and black, to his joyous delight; and although\nhe was greeted with outbursts of laughter by the whole party, he was,\nnevertheless, exceedingly reluctant to wash off his decoration. Lishun\nwas another of our particular \u2018pals,\u2019 and a sturdier, braver little\nfellow it would be hard to find; he was certainly not over eight or nine\nyears old, but on many occasions he saved our canoe from being swept\nback round a sharp turn of the river where the current ran at headlong\nspeed. Just as the men were losing all hold with their poles and the\nbow of the canoe was inevitably swinging out toward the middle of the\nriver, Lishun, with a rattan rope attached to the bow, in one hand,\nwould plunge into the swirl of water, and, disappearing for a breathless\nmoment, would emerge among the roots and branches on the river-bank,\nwith a shout of laughter from pure enjoyment, and there make fast his\nrope, while the polers with a fresh hold brought the bow of the canoe to\nthe right direction. Why his little limbs were not torn to pieces and\nhis body battered against the rocks in that seething, whirling water is\nto be explained, I suppose, only by the fact that water was almost as\nmuch his element as the earth or air. Then there were Terluat, a solemn\nlittle fellow, who preferred listening to talking; Apoi, a fat and\ngreasy lumpkin with an inane giggle if you did but look at him; Deng,\nabout sixteen years old, as clean-limbed and symmetrical an example of\nadolescence as can be imagined; and Gau, an ugly little monkey-faced boy,\nbut as bright as a new penny and an expert in cat\u2019s-cradle. Blari, Tama\nBulan\u2019s nephew, and Tama Talun, the Chief\u2019s right-hand man and a kind of\n\u2018master of ceremonies,\u2019 were our particular friends among the men, apart\nfrom the Chief, Tama Bulan, himself.\n\n[Illustration: SOME OF OUR KENYAH COMPANIONS DURING OUR VISIT TO TAMA\nBULAN\u2019S HOUSE.\n\nTHE WELL-BUILT MAN IN THE CENTRE IS BLARI; THE BOY ON THE RIGHT IS\nLISHUN, SQUATTING CLOSE BY HIM IS DENG, AND STANDING BETWEEN HIM AND\nBLARI IS DENG\u2019S ELDER BROTHER. THE NAMES OF THE THREE OTHERS I DO NOT\nRECALL.]\n\nDuring the weary days of waiting for the floods to subside, we used the\nyoungsters to teach us their language, and never missed the opportunity\nof having them in our boat, where we could make the idle moments pass\nin showing them a collection of illustrated papers that we had brought\nwith us. One evening, after they had been giving us a concert of their\nown music, we tried what effect some of our songs would have on them.\nSomewhat to my surprise, such melodies as \u2018The Suwanee River\u2019 and \u2018The\nOld Kentucky Home\u2019 possessed not the smallest charm for them; they\nevidently thought our style of singing exceedingly amusing,\u2014perhaps it\nwas; and they made no attempt to restrain their laughter. Afterward we\nheard them trying to imitate it by merely a continuous rise and fall of\nvoice in a high key. One song, however, did appeal to them as more like\ntheir own; this was \u2018Three Old Crows Sat on a Stone\u2019 with the refrain of\n\u2018Jimmy Magee Magaw;\u2019 frequent repetitions were called for; and finally\nthey caught the air and adapted words of their own to it, with a refrain\nof \u2018Balli Boin Ak\u00e1n,\u2019 a phrase wherewith the Dayongs, or priests, address\npigs that are about to be sacrificed.\n\nAt the end of five days, during which the freshet acquired daily and\nnightly new strength from heavy thunder-showers, the Omen Birds, the\nguides and guardians of these people, were harangued and alternately\ncajoled and threatened. At one time a fruitless attempt was made to\ndeceive them. The whole party disembarked, and, donning their spears\nand parangs, made a wide circuit in the jungle, so as to make the birds\nbelieve that the canoes were not going home, but were on an ordinary\nhunting expedition. Once Tama Bulan, while sitting in our canoe, shook\nhis fist at a bird perched on a bough near by, and upbraided it for\nnot causing the rain to cease. When he observed our interest in his\nproceedings his face broke into an embarrassed smile, and he poked me in\nthe ribs, and said, chuckling, \u2018Tuan does not believe in the birds, does\nhe? He thinks Tama Bulan is crazy.\u2019 I assured him that when in Borneo\nthe white man was as much under the protection of the birds as were the\nnatives themselves, which was equivocal, but gratifying to his belief.\nOn another occasion both Dr. Hiller and myself were sprinkled with water\nfrom a stick cut into shavings at one end and held on the blade of a\nparang. Had the skies immediately cleared, it would have afforded such\nirrefragable proof of our league with evil Spirits that I know not what\nwould have been our fate. But at last the waters fell, and, finally, we\nreached the mouth of the Pata River, the large tributary whereon Tama\nBulan lives; and then after three days of hard boating over rapids which\nnecessitated our disembarking twice and carrying our boat and all our\nbaggage overland for a short distance, we arrived within one turn of the\nriver from Tama Bulan\u2019s house. Here a halt for final purification was\nmade. An arch of boughs about five feet high was erected on the beach,\nand beneath it a fire was kindled, and then Tama Bulan, holding a young\nchicken, which he waved and brushed over every portion of the arch,\ninvoked all evil Spirits which had been accompanying us, and forbade them\nto follow us further through the fire. The fowl was then killed, its\nblood smeared all over the archway and sprinkled in the fire; then, led\nby Tama Bulan, the whole party filed under the arch, and as they stepped\nover the fire each one spat in it vociferously and immediately took his\nplace in the boats.[4] A half hour more brought us to the huge log which\nserves as a landing along the shore below the house of Tama Bulan.\n\n[Illustration: BULAN, THE DAUGHTER OF TAMA BULAN.\n\n(From a photograph taken, and kindly loaned, by Professor A. C. Haddon,\nF. R. S.)]\n\nTama Bulan did all in his power to show us that we were welcome, and\nassigned to us an immense slab of Tapang wood about eight feet square\nand suspended about three feet above the floor by beams from the roof;\nhereon we could spread our mats at night and keep our possessions out\nof the reach of the hungry mongrel dogs that pervaded the veranda. As\nsoon as we were thus properly shelved, and had our things stowed away\ncomfortably, our host came and requested us to visit him in his private\napartment and meet his family. With much pride he conducted us into the\npresence of his daughter, Bulan, who had gathered about her a bevy of\nher intimate girl friends, all busily engaged in making cigarettes; she\nreceived us with quiet dignity, but, owing to our lack of proficiency\nin Malay, I must acknowledge that the conversation could not be termed\nparticularly brilliant. However, we did our best to be entertaining;\nDr. Hiller and myself displayed the elaborate Japanese tattooing on our\narms, and I sprung by hand, at her father\u2019s instigation, into Bulan\u2019s\ngood graces. She was about seventeen or eighteen years old, with a strong\nresemblance to her father, and mild, gentle eyes which she slowly opened\nand shut with demure solemnity; her teeth were, of course, blackened;\nher hair was parted in the middle, and brought down low in glossy black\nwaves over her forehead and held in place by a fillet of plaited rattan;\nher eyebrows and eyelashes had been either shaved or depilated. The\none ineradicable blemish in her beauty is her left ear; over-ambitious\nparents had suspended therein too heavy weights when she was young, and\none beautiful ear-lobe had given away; to be sure, it had been patched\nand reunited, but the patch was undeniable, and an ugly lump the result.\nAlas! even three hundred miles in the heart of Borneo _il faut souffrir\npour \u00eatre belle_. I showed her some of the pictures of American men and\nwomen in the Magazines we had with us; she was much amused at the small\nwaists of the women, which I was obliged to tell her were effected by\nsteel bands laced tightly about them. This was incomprehensible to her,\nand the torture which she inferred excited her sympathy. In every picture\nwhere neither beard nor moustache marked the sex I had to tell her which\nwere men and which were women; she could see no difference in the faces,\nand the dress and coiffure had no meaning to her.\n\nWe were next shown the little son and heir who was to be the centre of\nthe coming festivities; he was the whitest Bornean baby that I ever\nsaw, his skin was what might be called a dark-cream color. Infant as he\nwas,\u2014not yet a year old,\u2014he evinced the utmost terror at the sight of us,\nand emitted such bawls that he had to be carried away quickly. His ears,\neven at that early age, had been slit, and were already quite elongated\nwith large bunches of pewter rings, which were, in fact, his sole article\nof dress. It always seemed strange to see babies in arms carried about\nwithout a rag of clothing on them; long clothes are so indissolubly\nassociated in our minds with infancy that there seemed to be something\nmonstrous and discordant in a tender little baby continually stark naked.\nThis baby, in spite of its bad temper, was, however, the idol of the\nhousehold; nephews, nieces, friends, and slaves of its parents were all\nproud to be allowed to carry it about the veranda, in its sling hung with\ncharms.\n\nWhile we were away on a five days\u2019 visit to another Chief on the Apoh\nRiver, Tama Bulan most hospitably caused to be constructed for us in the\nveranda, nearly opposite his apartment, a little room partitioned off by\nmatting and a wall of bamboo rods, wherein, as he explained, we should\nbe free from the annoyance of children and dogs; but even while he was\nspeaking a row of little, beady eyes peering at us through the cracks\nbetween the bamboos made me sympathize with the feelings of the _freaks_\nat a circus when the small boy lifts the flaps of the tent.\n\nOn the day of our arrival, the only indication of the approaching\nfestivities were hundreds of bunches of bananas, suspended everywhere\nfrom the roof; but when we returned from the Apoh River, preparations\nwere already in full swing for the Naming, and we contributed freely from\nour store of tobacco for the manufacture of cigarettes. Bulan\u2019s room\nwas the centre of this industry, and the workers, all women and girls,\noccupied every inch of the floor, squatting in groups round baskets\npiled high with the stringy weed. While some prepared the dried banana\nleaves, others rolled the cigarettes; some rolled them on their thighs,\nothers on polished boards held in their laps. It was a merry gathering,\nwith a constant buzz of gossip, and now and then loud bursts of innocent\nlaughter that bespake the vacant mind. The holiday had already begun,\nand during the days devoted to the ceremonies there is no work in the\nrice-fields, consequently the house was full of young people who would\nbe, at other times, hard at work out of doors. The small boy was, of\ncourse, ubiquitous,\u2014as, on similar busy occasions, he is in civilized\ncountries; and little Adom seemed to be everywhere at every instant,\nupsetting baskets of tobacco, purloining rolls of banana leaf, dropping\nchips and rubbish from rafters above on the heads of the workers beneath,\nand at every turn in everybody\u2019s way; nevertheless he was treated with\nuniform forbearance, and only occasional playful sallies from the girls\nkept him from downright hindering them in their work. Kindliness and\nhilarity ruled the hour.\n\n[Illustration: GROUP OF BOYS\n\nTHE FOURTH ON THE LEFT IN THE FRONT ROW IS LAWI, AN ADOPTED SON OF ABAN\nLIAH, AND A PRESUMPTIVE CHIEF. THE OTHERS WERE ALREADY HIS DEVOTED\nFOLLOWERS.]\n\nAs fast as the cigarettes were made they were strung on a thread and\nhung, a dangling fringe, on a framework of rattans about six feet long,\nrepresenting a horn-bill with his wings outspread. The head was carved\nof wood and painted, so that it had a most life-like appearance, and in\naddition it was ornamented with several strips of bead-work cloth draped\naround it and enveloping the neck; its tail was composed of real feathers\nwith the broad black band. The cigarettes were hung almost as closely as\nfeathers all over the body, wings, and tail,\u2014indeed, there must have been\na thousand affixed to it. When the last cigarette was hung in place, and\nit took far into the night before the whole was finished, the huge bird\nwas suspended from a rafter beyond the reach of pilfering hands, until\nthe proper time for distribution.\n\nIn deciding the exact date for the important ceremony of naming the son\nof a Chief, the phase of the moon is of vital importance. According to\nthe Kenyah calendar, the moon passes through twelve phases, whereof only\ntwo or three are really auspicious; and when some are in the ascendant\nthey prognosticate even downright ill luck to all who are then named.\nThese phases are as follows (\u2018bulan,\u2019 meaning _moon_): (1) \u2018Bulan musit,\u2019\n_the birth of the moon_; (2) \u2018Bulan anak,\u2019 _the moon has a child_; (3)\n\u2018Bulan dyipu boin,\u2019 _the pig\u2019s tooth moon_; (4) \u2018Bulan bakwong,\u2019 _the\nbird\u2019s-bill moon_; (5) \u2018Bulan petak,\u2019 _moon of sickness_; (6) \u2018Bulan\nbatak-palan,\u2019 _the fish moon_, moderately good, but not auspicious for\nbuilding houses; (7) \u2018Bulan salap jiit\u2019 and (8) \u2018Bulan salap bioh,\u2019 _the\nbig_ and _the little belly-moons_; both good moons; the \u2018Salap bioh\u2019\nis the best for naming children. (9) \u2018Bulan loong-payong jiit,\u2019 _moon\nof the small payong fruit_; (10) \u2018Bulan loong-payong bioh,\u2019 _moon of\nthe big payong fruit_; these two phases are auspicious for almost any\nundertaking. (11) \u2018Bulan blasong jiit,\u2019 _moon of the small pearl shell_\n(the shell often attached to the front of a war-coat); this is also an\nauspicious phase. (12) \u2018Bulan blasong bioh,\u2019 _moon of the big pearl\nshell_,\u2014_i.e._, full moon; this is considered not a very favorable phase.\nA child born under it goes to extremes. It is either very intelligent or\nelse an idiot. Fighting and trouble are most apt to occur during the full\nmoon.\n\nThe usual age at which a child is named is at about the end of the first\nyear or at the beginning of the second. Up to this time all the children,\nespecially those of a Chief, are under a \u2018lali,\u2019 a word signifying a\n_restriction_, and used in the same sense as taboo. As long as this\nlali is in force the child must not be bathed in the river, but in the\nprivate apartment of its parents; it must not be carried even down\nthe ladder from the house to the ground; even to mention its future\nname is so ill-omened as to be prohibitory; it is known only by the\nindefinite appellation \u2018Angat\u2019 if a boy, and \u2018Endun\u2019 if a girl,\u2014Angat\nmeans literally _a little worm_; what Endun means, if it have a separate\nmeaning, I do not know. On the present occasion, the moon was in the\nphase of Salap bioh, the big-bellied moon,\u2014that is, gibbous.\n\nNumerous guests now began to arrive to participate in the ceremonies;\nthey came so quietly, and so little commotion followed their arrival,\nthat we were hardly aware of their presence until we noticed the large\ngroups outside of Tama Bulan\u2019s door.\n\nOn the morning of the appointed day, alternate blows on two large gongs\ngave notice that the ceremony was about to begin. We filed into the\nChief\u2019s room with the others, and, passing through the narrow and dark\nlittle entry with its very ramshackle floor, we found the family and the\nguests sitting cross-legged about a large mat in the middle of the room.\nIn the centre of this mat was a heap about a foot high of white husked\nrice; at one side of this heap sat the proud mother, holding the pale\nlittle son and heir. When we were all seated, the gongs redoubled and\ntrebled their din, to drown all sounds of evil portent while the rites\ntake place.\n\nIt is the first duty of the Dayong, or priestess, (on this occasion\nTama Bulan\u2019s first wife, the mother of Bulan,) to drive away all evil\nSpirits which may be perchance still lurking near the child. Old age is\nseldom, if ever, beautiful in Borneo, and as old Tina Bulan stood up to\nofficiate, with her straggly hanks of swarthy hair, her blackened snags\nof teeth, her shrivelled, bony arms and corded neck, she looked the\nsupreme incarnation of a witch, straight from the \u2018pit of Acheron.\u2019 But\nugliness, as well as beauty, is only skin deep; and we learned to know\nthis Tina Bulan as a dear old soul, as kind and good-natured as mortal\ncan be.\n\nShe held by its legs a young chicken, which, with excited gesticulations,\nshe waved above and about the little stark-naked, bawling baby,\nstruggling in its mother\u2019s lap, and as she waved she dipped water from a\nbowl, and, sprinkling it upon the fowl, exhorted it, as follows:\n\n    \u2018Misau balli yap!\n    Balli Isit! balli Sakit!\n    Misau balli Mibang nelatang,\n    Balli nupi jiat, iya malat!\n    Ja! dua! talu! pat!\n    Pat porat petat, peti pasi balli jiat!\u2019\n\nWhich, somewhat freely translated, means, \u2018Drive away, O hallowed fowl,\nand hallowed Isit [omen bird], all sickness and evil Spirits that\nsurround us! Render harmless all bad dreams! One! two! three! four! Away,\nall evil demons, here, there, and everywhere!\u2019\n\nAs she counted ja! dua! talu! pat! she waved her hands violently and\nthreateningly, as if fairly pushing the evil Spirits from her. Trembling\nwith excitement, she then dropped cross-legged close to the heap of\nsnow-white rice, and with a bamboo joint measured out eight portions;\nout of these, she made a separate pile at one side. Eight measures of\nrice are the portion for the child of a Chief, half that number suffices\nordinary children. The rice, thus measured, is for the god, Penylong,\nthe guardian of all souls, and for his wife, Perbungan; the spiritual\nessence alone of the grains goes to the gods; the ceremony over, the\nrice may be eaten by mortals. In the middle of this lesser pile of rice\nshe planted a small sprig of a tree, called the _tree of life_, \u2018Kayu\nurip;\u2019 with this symbol in front of her, she carefully picked out from\nthe pile eight full, well-shaped grains; wrapping them in a strip of\nbark-fibre, and holding the strip close above the child\u2019s head, she tied\na knot in it enclosing and holding fast the grains. (This strip thus\nknotted is called \u2018Tebuku urip.\u2019) Eight times was this repeated, and all\nthe while the brazen gongs kept up their hideous, deafening din; now and\nthen, when the wearied performers stopped for a moment to change hands,\nthe vigorous and well-sustained bawling of the noble infant filled the\ngap. Once I caught sight of little Adom sliding stealthily down from his\nperch on the rack for bamboo water-bottles, whence he had been enjoying\nhis wonted bird\u2019s eye view of the whole performance, and, seizing the arm\nof a tired gong-beater, his little dust-begrimed face all contorted with\nearnestness, helped him to beat louder.\n\nEvery time that Tina Bulan enclosed in a knot the eight grains of rice,\nshe murmured: \u2018May your soul live long, and, by the omens of this knotted\ncord of life, may you live to a venerable old age!\u2019[5]\n\nIf each grain of rice mean a year of life, the reckoning does not fall\nfar short of the Biblical three score and ten.\n\nWhen the ceremony was completed of the Tebuku urip (where \u2018urip\u2019 means\n_of life_), the \u2018Kayu urip\u2019 (_the tree of life_) was placed in a joint of\nbamboo, wherein also the tebuku itself was stored. The bamboo joint is\nassigned only to a man-child; out of bamboo are made tobacco-boxes, and\nquivers for the poisoned darts of the blow-pipe. Such things are carried\nonly by men, never by women.\n\n[Illustration: KENYAH WOMEN IN ORDINARY COSTUME.\n\nTHE RINGS STRETCHING THE EAR-LOBES ARE OF COPPER, CAST BY CHINAMEN AT\nTHE BAZAAR. THE GIRDLES OF BEADS ROUND THE HIPS ARE MADE IN GERMANY AND\nIMPORTED BY CHINESE TRADERS.]\n\nAt the naming of a girl, the Kayu urip and the Tebuku are placed in a\nsmall basket, like those wherein rice is carried; this symbolises women\u2019s\nwork in the rice-fields.\n\nThese symbols are hung up in the child\u2019s room, over the sleeping-place,\nand are ever after venerated.\n\nThe moment that Tina Bulan had placed the Kayu urip and the Tebuku in\nthe bamboo joint the gongs ceased, and I think a sigh of relief swept\nover the whole assembly. Thus far no sound of evil omen had been heard;\nindeed, any malevolent lizard or rancorous frog, in order to make his\nfateful croak audible above the indescribable din of those fearsome\ngongs, would have to employ a siren whistle with megaphone attachment.\n\nThe little baby was now danced and jiggled and carried about in its sling\nto stop its wailing. Several young girls and old women handed round on\nflat baskets, heaps of little packages of salt and ginger-root wrapped in\npieces of green banana leaf; these, together with two or three bananas,\nthey distributed to each guest.\n\nTama Talun, who sat beside me on the floor throughout the ceremony, and\nwith genuine courtesy explained from time to time what was going on, told\nme that the salt, the ginger, and the sweet banana indicated what it was\nhoped would be the future disposition of the child, namely, he should\nbe duly calm, hot, and gentle, never sluggish nor apathetic. Of course,\nI opened my package, ate a pinch of salt, nibbled the ginger-root, and\nwished the while good luck to the babe; then cheerfully pledged him in\na cup of arrack, which was also passed to each guest. This apparently\ncompleted the ceremonies of the first day for Tama Bulan, Junior (I\ncannot call him by his real name; what that was, as yet not a soul but\nhis father and mother knew). The women all arose and began to file out\nof the room; wishing not to miss anything, I too rose up, and was slowly\nmaking my way among them to the door when I became aware of an unusual\namount of giggling around me, nay, of several explosions of laughter from\nthe men in the room behind me. I turned about and saw all their faces\non a broad grin. What ridiculous breach of etiquette had I committed?\nI paused, and good-natured Tama Talun came to my rescue, shouting out\nover the heads of the rest, \u2018Go on, Tuan, it\u2019s all right; they are only\nfoolishly laughing because the Tuan seems to think he is a woman. We men\nhave to stay behind until all the women get into the next room.\u2019 With the\nexception of Dr. Hiller, I was the only one in that dusky assemblage that\ncould blush; my cheeks and forehead at once fulfilled their duty, and I\ngently edged out of the crowd.\n\nIt is usual, on the naming-day of a Chief\u2019s son, to bestow names on all\nthe babies of a befitting age in the house; advantage must be taken of\nthe same auspicious day. Therefore as soon as the ceremony was thus\nfar completed in Tama Bulan\u2019s room, there was a second wild uproar of\ngongs a little further down the veranda, and to this room the guests\nall repaired. There, the same ceremonies were repeated, except, as I\nmentioned before, only four measures of rice were apportioned for the\nhumbler folk; but, nevertheless, eight grains were tied up in each knot\nof the Tebuku.\n\nThus it went on throughout that whole day; the guests wandering from room\nto room, tasting pinches of salt, nibbling ginger, sipping arrack, and\nstuffing themselves with bananas; between whiles cooling off by bathing\nin the river.\n\nThe rites of the first day are but preliminary to the more august\nceremonies of the second day, which are conducted in public outside\nthe Chief\u2019s room, in the veranda, opposite to his door, where all the\nhousehold and guests can assemble to welcome the youngster as soon as his\nname is proclaimed.\n\nWhen the morning meal was over, the strong young men of the household,\nprovided with rattan ropes, descended to the muddy wallows among the\nmassive upright posts that support the house, and began at once to\ngive chase to the pigs. These knowing, omen-yielding animals perform a\nhighly important part in the rites, but they pay the dear forfeit of\ntheir lives for the privilege; they seemed verily to suspect, on the\npresent occasion, the fate in store for them, and, at an early hour,\nhad ungraciously betaken themselves to the woods. An hour passed, then\nanother, and then another,\u2014and no hunter with his pig had returned. Tama\nBulan gradually became greatly worried, and kept reiterating that no one\ncould estimate how evil would be the omen if the large pig which he had\ndestined for this ceremony could not be found. At last, however, cheering\nshouts were heard from the neighboring jungle, and, soon after, one by\none, the pigs, six or seven in number, with _the_ pig to the fore, were\nbrought up to the veranda, slung on poles, with their four feet tied\ntogether; here they were plumped down in a row close to the place where\nthe rites were to be held.\n\nOn the hearth, below the row of human skulls hanging opposite the Chief\u2019s\ndoor, there must now be started New Fire,\u2014that is, fire produced by the\nfire-saw, the most primitive method of obtaining it, and, possibly,\nbecause it is the most primitive, it is obligatory at all august\nceremonies. According to tradition among the Kayans and Kenyahs, one of\nthe early inhabitants of the earth, named Laki Oi, the Prometheus of\nKayan mythology, taught the people this method, and called it \u2018Musa;\u2019\nhe also invented the fire-drill, which he called \u2018Nalika.\u2019 The Musa\nconsists of a piece of soft fibrous wood, which is held down by the feet,\nfirmly on the ground, and rests upon a bundle of fine slivers of dry\nwood; underneath it, is passed a strip of dry but flexible bamboo, which\nis sawed back and forth until the friction starts a spark in the fine\ndust which has been thereby rubbed up; the spark is fostered and soon\nblown into a flame in the bundle of slivers. When the materials are in\nproper condition, fire can be produced in much less than a minute. Should\nall the fires in a house go out, or when fire is to be started for the\nfirst time in a new house, the Musa is the only method whereby fire may\nbe kindled,\u2014no flint and steel, nor fire-drill, nor fire-syringe, nor\nmatches, (common enough, thanks to the Chinese bazaar,) can be used; it\nmust be the Musa, and the Musa alone. At the naming of a child, the piece\nof soft wood is carved into a grotesque head at one end. The image thus\nmade is called \u2018Laki Pesong,\u2019 the god of the Musa.\n\n[Illustration: The Stick, \u2018Laki Pesong,\u2019 and Strips of bamboo used in\nmaking New Fire. One-quarter of the natural size.]\n\nBut to return to Tama Bulan\u2019s house. As soon as New Fire had been\nkindled, the gongs, as on the day before, began their deafening clangour;\nthe parents, looking very grave, slowly emerged from their \u2018Lamin,\u2019 or\n_private room_. The mother carried the baby, who, for a wonder, was not\ncrying,\u2014but I could see by his expression that he was well primed for a\nvigorous bawl on the slightest provocation. Solemnly they marched and\ntook their places on the large mat close to the hearth. Some strong\nyouths now seized the big black pig, Tama Bulan\u2019s prime selection, and\npartly lifting it, and partly swinging it about by the ears and tail,\nnot without squealings which would have been ear-piercing but for the\ngongs, they hauled it up close beside the Chief. Across the swine\u2019s body\nand over its neck were wreathed the mother\u2019s most prized and costly\nstrings of beads; according to Kenyah computation, the value of these\nbeads amounted to the price of several slaves, or probably to the cost\nof two whole houses. I suppose that this was not merely for the sake of\ndecorating the victim, but was designed to flatter and cajole it into\nhaving a beautiful liver, overspread with bright omens for her boy.\n\n[Illustration: MAKING FIRE WITH A \u2018FIRE-DRILL.\u2019\n\nTHE PIECE OF WOOD WHICH IS HELD UPON THE GROUND MUST BE SOFT, FIBROUS,\nAND DRY; THE STICK WHICH IS DRILLED INTO IT IS HARD. FIRE CAN BE THUS\nSTARTED IN ABOUT FORTY SECONDS. THIS METHOD OF PRODUCING FIRE IS NOT HELD\nTO BE SACRED, AS IS THAT OF CREATING FIRE WITH THE \u2018MUSA\u2019 OR FIRE-SAW.]\n\nThe relatives and the guests disposed themselves in a large circle\naround the solemn parents, the infant, and the pig; directly in front,\nand facing them, the Dayong sat cross-legged, a very tall and skinny old\nman, whose lower jaw was furnished with but one tooth, which, when he\nomitted to suck it in, stuck out at right angles. He did not wear, as far\nas I could see, any peculiar costume or badge of office; he was clad in\nnothing but an ordinary loin-cloth.\n\nWhen the assemblage had settled themselves in their places, some sitting\non the floor, others standing on the large rice mortars so that they\ncould look into the centre of the circle, the old Dayong arose, and\ngrasping in his right hand a parang and a stick, the latter cut into a\nbrush of splinters at one end, with his left hand he sprinkled water upon\nthem from a bowl held by an assistant. The dripping stick and the parang\nhe waved over the child\u2019s head and muttered words, which Tama Talun,\nagain my kind interpreter, said expressed the desire that the life of the\nchild might be as \u2018laram,\u2019 _cool_, as the water he was sprinkling over\nit.[6]\n\nTo insure protection to the child against evil Spirits, a young chicken\nwas waved above and around it, as on the previous day; and then at once\nthe chicken\u2019s head was chopped off and some of its blood smeared on the\nbaby\u2019s hand. This indignity supplied the provocation, which, from the\nfirst, I had anticipated, and instantly stirred up all the depravity of\nthe infant, who had been thus far just as quiet as a lamb; the gongs now\nstopped their din, but the bonnie babe proved an excellent substitute,\nand awoke every echo in the smoky rafters overhead. He kicked, and\nroared, and wriggled in his mother\u2019s lap, bent himself backward, and beat\nwith his little fists at the fluttering chicken every time it was waved\nnear his face; I was really afraid he would burst a blood-vessel so\nscarlet did his little body become with the exertion of expelling those\npiercing shrieks; not a tear issued from his eyes, and the bunches of\npewter rings in his stringy little ears kept flapping against his cheeks\nas he shook his head and thrashed about in violent contortions. He never\nonce stopped bawling throughout all the rest of the ceremony.\n\nAll evil Spirits having been now effectually dispelled, the Dayong\nsquatted down by the pig, and taking from the fire a small stick of wood\nwith a glowing end he touched it to the pig\u2019s side, by way of calling\nthe poor beast\u2019s attention to what he was about to say. When the pig\u2019s\nstruggles had calmed down, the old man laid his hands on its side and\nsoothingly addressed it as \u2018Balli Boin Ak\u00e1n, Balli Boin Ak\u00e1n,\u2019 and begged\nit to intercede with Penylong and Perbungan, and to tell unerringly\nwhether or not the name now about to be given to the child had been\nauspiciously chosen. The name had never yet been divulged; even the old\nDayong knew not what it was. It was an absolute secret between Tama Bulan\nand the mother of the child. Some days before, not knowing that the name\nwas thus sacredly secret, I had asked what it was to be, but Tama Bulan\ncourteously told me that it was utterly impossible for him to reveal it.\nAll through this ceremony, Tama Bulan sat cross-legged beside his wife\nquietly, every feature wearing a very serious expression, keenly watching\nthe Dayong.\n\nMost of the time, the mother sat with her legs straight out in front\nof her, and with her squirming baby wriggling on her knees from side\nto side; she kept her eyes cast down, watching the child, but never\nattempting to stop its bawling, to which, indeed, no one seemed to pay\nthe slightest attention.\n\nLittle Adom had a view better, of course, than any body except the\nprincipals; there he was lying flat on his face on a beam directly above\nthe naming-party, his legs and arms dangling down on either side. When\nI caught sight of him his little, black eyes danced with mischief, and\nfrom his lofty perch he defied us with that impudent gesture which, in an\nunhappy hour, I had taught him: putting his thumb to his nose, twirling\nhis fingers, and winking and blinking his eyes and lolling his tongue\nout like a veritable little goblin. All the solemnity in the world could\nnever impress him.\n\nWhen the Dayong had finished his address to the pig, italicising\nimportant words by prods in the ribs with a bony thumb, he took up a\nstrip of bamboo, such as is used for the fire-saw, and, bending it into\na loop so that the two ends just touched, he set fire to it at the bend\nand allowed it to burn through. The burning of this loop was watched\nwith breathless interest by Tama Bulan, as well as by a group of old\ncrones who had now gathered close about the Dayong. When the loop snapped\nasunder and the flame went out, the Dayong put the two strips side by\nside and so rested the unburnt ends on his thumb-nail as to make them\nexactly even, and then closely scrutinized the burnt ends. He said not a\nword, but ominously shook his head, assumed a troubled expression, and\neven forgot to suck in his solitary tooth. The two strips were taken\nfrom him by one of the old women and subjected to the same measurement\nand scrutiny, except that she kept up a constant argument, and a shaking\nof her head; finally, she fumbled over the burnt ends and knocked off\na little particle of ash just ready to fall; then she held them up\nbefore the Dayong, and the tone of what she uttered was decidedly more\nreassuring. He measured them again very closely, and seemed to be better\npleased. Tama Bulan could restrain himself no longer, but got up hastily\nto examine the strips for himself; he also rubbed with his finger one of\nthe charred ends, and then adjusted the sound ends on his thumb-nail, but\nhe shook his head, and said, somewhat despairingly, \u2018I\u2019m afraid one is\nmuch too long.\u2019 Hereupon, the ever kind Tama Talun explained to us that\nby these strips it is decided whether or not the undivulged name which\nhad been chosen is a good one; if the two pieces are of exactly the same\nlength, the omen is unfavorable; if they are very unequal in length, the\nname is likewise ill-chosen. There should be just the tiniest, slightest\ndifference in the length of the strips; then it is absolutely certain\nthat the name is well-chosen. (Ah! what a shrewd, clever head devised\nthis augury! how easy by this rule of thumb-nail to make the difference\nslight, and how hard to make the strips exactly even or greatly uneven!)\nSo it happened that, after the strips had passed over the thumb-nails\nof half a dozen of the wisest crones and toothless old men, they were\nreturned to the Dayong, who was now fully convinced that his first\nmeasurements had been entirely wrong, and he now emphatically declared\nthat the omens were most auspicious. Throughout this momentous discussion\nthe object of it all kept up an unintermitting bawl; if the evil Spirits\nhave ears, never during this hour would they have molested him; there was\nno need of gongs with that baby to the fore.\n\nThe charred ends of the bamboo strips were then dipped in a cocoanut\nshell of water held by one of the old women standing near; the ash\nand water were mixed by the Dayong into a paste between his thumb and\nfinger and smeared on the baby\u2019s forehead and in its hair. At the\ninstant of doing this he leaned forward and asked Tama Bulan what name\nhe had selected. Tama Bulan whispered mysteriously very low close to\nthe Dayong\u2019s ear. The Dayong then reached for the cocoanut shell of\nwater held by the old woman, and most carefully and solemnly advanced\nit toward the child; the shell was nervously followed every inch of the\nway by four or five pairs of brown claw-like, old hands with anxious\nzeal, lest a drop of its precious contents should be spilled; in spite\nof the risk it ran from this excess of zeal, it got to its destination\nsafely, and the very instant that the water was poured over the head of\nthe baby the Dayong said aloud, impressively, \u2018Be thy name Lijow!\u2019 The\nname, for the first time thus uttered aloud, was murmured throughout the\nlarge assemblage, and the happiness of the selection commended with \u2018nods\nand becks and wreathed smiles;\u2019 it was the name of one of Tama Bulan\u2019s\nancestors, and means _Tiger_. (It is unlucky to name a child after a\nliving person,\u2014it is apt to make the child stupid; and it is fatal to\nselect the name of one who has recently died,\u2014speedy death follows.)\n\nThe cocoanut shell was now refilled with home-made arrack, whereof a drop\nwas placed on little Lijow\u2019s lips from the finger of the Dayong; then\nthe mother, henceforth Tina Lijow, took a sip from it, and Tama Bulan\ndrained it to the dregs, whereof I imagine there were plenty, due to the\nDayong\u2019s grimy finger. Then the Dayong poured out a measure for himself,\nand then we, as guests of importance, were courteously served, and after\nus followed all the rest of the guests in turn. Again, as on the first\nday, packages of salt, ginger-root, and bananas were passed around, and\nThe Ceremony was over. Everything had gone off to perfection, not an\nevil omen had marred its smooth success,\u2014thanks to the gongs and the\nstrength of dear little Lijow\u2019s lungs; if his voice keeps its promise\nuntil manhood, he will make himself heard throughout Sarawak.\n\nIt now only remained to wrap up the precious strips of bamboo in a piece\nof banana leaf and place them in the bamboo joint along with the symbols\nof the first day\u2019s rites. After this was properly accomplished, the\n\u2018Balli Boin,\u2019 that sacred pig, was killed, and his considerate liver\npolitely proclaimed in its every tint that Lijow\u2019s life would be all that\nthe heart of a devoted Kenyah parent could desire.\n\nTama Bulan, with a beaming face, said to us, \u2018Don\u2019t forget to tell Tuan\nHote [Hose] that I have called my boy Lijow; he wanted to know what the\nname was to be, but I couldn\u2019t tell him then.\u2019\n\nThe naming of little Lijow having been thus most successfully finished,\nthe Chief\u2019s family party moved out of the circle gathered about the\nhearth, and another family party took its place in front of the Dayong;\ntheir Balli Boin was hoisted and pulled into position, and the same\nceremonies with the taking of omens were punctiliously repeated.\nOf course, for these people of lesser rank, there was not felt the\nsame widespread interest as for the Chief\u2019s son, and, therefore, the\nassemblage gradually dwindled; the cool river offered more attractions\nthan the hot, breezeless veranda, with its din of gongs and of squalling\nbabies and of squealing pigs, and its loud-voiced Dayong with an unruly,\nprojecting tooth. I think there were in all six babies named on that day,\nand by the time the last had been proclaimed a member of the clan the\nafternoon was well advanced.\n\nMany a jar of arrack had been broached during the ceremonies,\nconsequently all the members of the household and their guests were\ndecidedly fain to sing and dance. The raised portion of the flooring\nextending along the greater part of the veranda under the eaves was lined\nwith men waiting in turn for the cups of arrack that were freely passed\nfrom lip to lip. Tama Bulan beamed upon his whole large household, and\nwith his own hands dipped out the mild drink from the large jars with a\nladle made from a seed of the Billian tree (iron-wood). The minor notes\nof Kaluris now resounded, and here and there on the floor of huge,\nbroad planks, for which Tama Bulan\u2019s house is famous, the horny feet of\ndancers thumped and shuffled and scraped as one after another essayed to\noutdo all predecessors in the wild movements of a war-dance. They leaped\nin the air, waving their parang and shield; they stamped in time to the\nmusic; they whirled and twisted, sometimes falling on one knee, slashing\nat imaginary foes; the long feathers of the Argus pheasant waved from\ntheir war-caps, and the black and white feathers of the horn-bill rattled\non their war-coats and glittered in the crimson level rays of the sun\nthat swept in under the eaves of the house. Now was the time to bring\nforth the great horn-bill with its plumage of cigarettes; it was tenderly\nmoved to a beam within easy reach, and its bristling feathers, which had\ncost so much fair labor, were greedily snatched off, and in a trice the\natmosphere of the veranda, thick with tobacco-smoke, became even to the\nlong rays of the setting sun almost impenetrable.\n\nWhile this smoking was literally in full blast, the women retired to\ntheir rooms and arrayed themselves in every bit and shred that they\npossessed of gaudy bead-work, for their necks, their ears, and their\nwaists; they donned their brightest fillets for the hair, and they tied\nround their waists their skirts of black cloth with patches of bright\ncalico stitched down the side. Down to their waists, except for these\nbead necklaces, they were, as usual, bare.\n\nThe withdrawal of the women was a signal to the men to range themselves\nin two long rows facing each other; thus they sat on the floor, puffing\nhard at their cigarettes and chuckling with one another in anticipation\nof the ordeal they were about to undergo. From one of the rooms the women\nissued in single file; she who headed the procession carried a large\nbowl, the next carried a cocoanut-shell spoon, the third bore a large\nflat dish piled high with cubes of raw fat pork, behind her, fourth\nin the line, followed Bulan, the daughter of the house, who carried\nnothing; but everyone could see, by the twinkle of her eye, that she\nmeant mischief; this same order:\u2014bowl-bearer, spoon-bearer, pork-bearer,\nhelper, was preserved in a regular series all down the whole line of\nsixty or more women.\n\nSedately and slowly and silently they marched the whole length of\nthe veranda close to the wall of the apartments, and then turned in\nbetween the lines of squatting men. When the first man was reached,\nthe procession halted, and from the bowl held by the first woman, the\nspoon-bearer dipped a spoonful of a muddy-looking liquid and poured it\ninto the man\u2019s gaping mouth. As it touched his tongue, his face was a\nstudy in contortions; when the spoon was withdrawn he tried first to\nsmile, then his eyes were lost in wrinkles, his mouth puckered up, he\nlooked seasick, and then with a shudder that shook his frame, gulped down\nhis dose; the spoon-bearer passed on, then the bearer of the pork cubes\nhalted in front of him, and Bulan, taking from the dish one of those\nnauseating gray, greasy, tepid cubes of raw fat, popped it dexterously\ninto his mouth and then wiped her greasy fingers across his upturned\nface. Again shuddering tremors shook his frame, but\u2014he bolted it! then\ngazed about him with a sickly smile. Down both lines there burst forth\npeals on peals of laughter; the men shouted and stamped their feet with\nmerriment over the victim\u2019s misery, unmindful that his fate would soon be\ntheirs. The women tried hard to maintain their gravity, but the varied\nand ludicrous sufferings of their lords and masters were often too much\nfor their dignity, and they unreservedly joined in the mirth; to those\nagainst whom they had any private grudge they administered an extra dose,\nor stirred up the dregs of the drink, or bestowed a particularly flabby\nand repulsive piece of pork. As we sat about half way down the line, we\nhad quite a while to await our turn, and to speculate on the ingredients\nof the awful drink,\u2014it was almost adequately nauseating that we should\nhave to take it out of that family, that tribal spoon. My turn came at\nlast. Well, it was a ghastly dose and no mistake. It was lukewarm, it\nwas fiery hot with peppers, it was salt, it was pungent, it was sweet,\nit was flat, it was sour, and it tasted strongly of brass bowl. All this\nwas administered from a spoon that without washing or wiping had been\nalready in the mouths of thirty or forty black-toothed predecessors.\nOur uncontrollable and immeasurable disgust created infinite amusement\nand prolonged laughter, and when Bulan, full of mischievous merriment,\nfollowed with the pork cubes, knowing that she had the Tuans at her\nmercy, she did not leave the fraction of an inch of our faces that was\nnot bedaubed with grease. And then how she laughed! As though one such\ndose was not enough, there was the prospect before us of having it,\nHeaven save the mark! again and again administered down to the very last\nwoman of that long, interminable procession; first a spoonful of that\nappalling, unnameable liquid! then a mouthful of raw pork! The devoted\nTama Bulan and Tama Talun came at length to our rescue, and told us\nthat after the first two or three doses there would be no offence if we\njust dipped our finger in the drink and touched it to our tongue, and\nif we merely took the pork between our lips; sometimes this evasion was\nsuccessful, but now and then the drink was forced upon us, and we got\na worse smearing from greasy fingers. Shrewd old Laki La, profiting by\nexperience at other similar feasts, held a tumbler under his chin, and\nas fast as the drink and pork were deposited in his mouth they were\nre-deposited in the tumbler. Tama Usong, to whose house on the Apoh\nRiver we had paid a visit only a little while before, sat next to me,\nand I asked him how he was getting along, and if his stomach was not\nnearly full. \u2018Oh, no, indeed, Tuan,\u2019 said he, laughing; \u2018I long ago put\nmy stomach out here,\u2019 and he pointed behind him to a row, a foot long,\nof cubes of pork which he had surreptitiously deposited on the railing\nof the veranda. It was a hideous nightmare! But at last the little girls\nbrought up the end of the procession, and then the greater part of the\nassembly dashed for the river to wash off a little of the fat with which\ntheir faces were fairly dripping.\n\nTama Talun explained to us that this was a survival of old times, when\nwarriors returned from a head-hunt, and sat thus and were obliged to take\nin their mouths a small piece of their enemy\u2019s flesh, served to them\njust as the fat pork is served now-a-days. They were not to swallow the\nhuman flesh, but merely hold it between their lips to show contempt for\nthe enemy, and also thereby to absorb his valour. Dr. Hose, when told\nof this interpretation, asserted that the object of this ceremony is to\nimpress evil Spirits, who, when they see so many men with faces smeared\nwith food, will be led to think that a very great feast had taken place\nin honor of the newly named children, and that, therefore, these children\nmust be most important people, and to harm them would stir the anger of\na vast multitude. Dr. Hose\u2019s knowledge of the Kenyahs extends over so\nmany years that it is venturesome to dissent from him; nevertheless,\nour interpretation was received directly from an unusually intelligent\nnative, while the ceremony was going on before us, and was, moreover,\ngiven voluntarily without any questions on our part. Dr. Hose rejects\nthis interpretation, because of his conviction that cannibalism, in any\nform whatsoever, never existed in Borneo.\n\n[Illustration: MUJAN, ONE OF THE BELLES OF TAMA BULAN\u2019S HOUSEHOLD.\n\n(From a photograph taken, and kindly loaned, by Professor A. C. Haddon,\nF. R. S.)]\n\nBy the time we had returned to our places in the veranda, after having\nwashed off in the river the abhorred grease from our faces, the women had\ndoffed their uncomfortable burdens of finery and were squatting among\nthe men, in a close group round Tama Bulan, who was cutting the rattan\nbindings of several more large jars of arrack. The Chief was the first\nto quaff the beverage, and as he lifted the cup to his lips the whole\nassemblage began to intone a continuous \u2018oo-oo-oo-oo,\u2019 in harmony but\nwith a deep bass predominant, and kept up this resonant accompaniment\nuntil the last drop was drained. After Tama Bulan, the guests were\nserved in turn, and as each one lifted the cup to his lips (and it must\nbe drained to the last drop at one draught) this \u2018oo-oo\u2019-ing rose and\nfell like a bewildering, deafening humming in the ears; it was to me a\nnoteworthy experience; unquestionably it marvellously accelerates the\naction of the alcohol in the arrack. When the cup had been passed round\nseveral times to each man and woman, and the oo-oo-ing was becoming\nsomewhat discordant and boisterous, the door of one of the rooms was\nflung open and the genuine feast was brought in, piled high in three\nsmall canoes borne on the shoulders of men staggering under the weight.\nOne-half of each canoe was heaped with little packages of boiled rice\nwrapped in green banana leaves and tied with pieces of grass; the other\nhalf fairly bristled, like a fretful porcupine, with bamboo skewers\nwhereon were several bits of boiled pork. (It will, perhaps, be noted\nthat a feast does not consist in variety or quality, but in quantity.)\nHere and there among the guests were placed bowls of salted fish\npulverised, and to each guest were given a packet of rice and a stickful\nof meat, while Tama Bulan shouted the hospitable injunction, \u2018Kuman\nplahei plahei\u2019\u2014_Eat slowly, slowly!_ There was no stint; everyone was\nfreely at liberty to have as many portions of rice and of meat as he\ncould eat, and was welcome to help himself to all he wished of the dried\nfish.\n\nIn my packet of rice there was a little discoloration at one end, that\nlooked like iron rust, but Ma Obat, a one-eyed and villainous-looking\nold fellow, who sat beside me, seeing that I scrutinized the spot rather\ncarefully, politely took the lump of rice out of my hand, and with a\nthumb-nail that looked, I must say, like a coal-heaver\u2019s shovel, scraped\naway the dubious portion and then handed the lump back to me. The\ndiscolored grains were gone, but, woe\u2019s me, they were replaced by several\ngrimy finger-marks. For the sake of his triumphant and kindly beaming\nsmile I could not refuse to eat it, and so with eyes fixed on the rafters\noverhead,\u2014it was bolted!\n\nThis feast marked the conclusion of the ceremonies, and we stuffed and\nsmoked, and then as darkness was beginning to fall, Dr. Hiller and\nI, with several of the young men, strolled down the veranda to pay\nrespectful visits in the family rooms. In Mujan\u2019s room, I am sorry\nto say, we found both Mujan and her elder sister in a state of\u2014well,\nintoxication; the arrack and the oo-oo-ing had been too much for them.\nOrdinarily, they were quiet, demure girls, the belles of the veranda,\nand industrious workers at rice-pounding. But such lapses are, according\nto Kenyah morality, by no means unpardonable, nay, at such a high tide\nand festival as the present, were to be rather applauded as a great and\nladylike compliment to the host. Mujan and her sister were sitting with\ntheir backs against the partition; the head of the elder reclined on the\nshoulder of the younger, and, though awake, she gave, from time to time,\na sighing snore. Mujan, the younger, was trying to entertain a group of\nvisitors, and her fingers were crumpling cigarette wrappers and tobacco\nin a futile attempt to make some cigarettes for her friends. All she\ncould murmur to us was,\u2019Aku mabok, Tuan, Aku mabok\u2019\u2014_I\u2019m drunk, sirs, I\u2019m\ndrunk_. We stayed only a few minutes, joking with her about her state,\nand then went with the others to visit Sara, another fashionable belle,\nwho, however, in our eyes, was far from personally attractive; she had\nlost four of her upper front teeth; their loss made her conversation\nanything but easy to understand. When we arrived, Sara had retired to her\nmodicum of a sleeping-room, but she was persuaded to emerge, and then she\nannounced that the arrack had given her a severe headache. Deng\u2019s elder\nbrother,\u2014I forget his name,\u2014at once volunteered to apply cups to her\ntemple, and she acquiesced. She provided the cupping instrument, which\nconsisted of a small cylinder of bamboo, sealed at one end with a lump\nof wax. The operator, with a small knife, scratched four or five little\nwounds on her temple, and then making a small hole through the lump of\nwax on the bamboo cylinder he applied the open end to the wound and\nproceeded to suck the air out of the cylinder with his lips. When the air\nwas sufficiently exhausted he closed the hole in the wax with his teeth,\nand the bamboo remained adhering to her temple, like a horn. She smiled,\nchatted, and never once winced throughout the whole operation, and after\nabout half an ounce of blood had been drawn pronounced herself much\nbetter.\n\n[Illustration: SARA, ANOTHER BELLE OF TAMA BULAN\u2019S HOUSEHOLD.\n\nSHE WAS UNATTRACTIVE IN APPEARANCE, BUT HER VIVACIOUS CONVERSATION\nRENDERED HER VERY POPULAR\n\n(From a photograph taken, and kindly loaned, by Professor A. C. Haddon,\nF. R. S.)]\n\nJust at this minute, Tama Bulan hurried into the room, and, asking us to\ncome out, excitedly told us that a woman, named Lueng, whose child had\nbeen one of those to receive a name that day, was very ill and had fallen\ndown in her room suddenly, and could not be wakened; had we ever heard of\nsuch a thing, he asked, in our country, or had we by chance any medicine\nfor her. We went at once with him and found the woman in a state of\nprofound collapse; she had been suffering from a severe attack of grippe,\nand the excitement of the day had been too great for her; we could get no\nfurther history than this, and from the cackling old women who were busy\nabout her and from her husband and her brother we could get no coherent\nanswers to our questions. We did the best we could with our limited\nresources; we stimulated her heart with hypodermics of strychnia; we had\nher laid flat instead of propped up, as she had been by the old women; at\nlength she revived sufficiently to ask for water. When we bade them to\ngive it to her they positively refused, saying we wanted to poison her;\nby administering a hypodermic injection we had indiscreetly overstepped\nthe bounds of Kenyah submission to the white man\u2019s medicine. Instead\nof water, the old women insisted on pouring down the patient\u2019s throat\na thick, warm paste of rice and water, at which, of course, she gagged\nand choked. We saw that our efforts were of no avail, and were therefore\ncompelled to resign her to her friends and the Dayongs. One very\nofficious old woman seemed to think that the sovereign remedy for such\nills was to reach and scratch the patient\u2019s back-bone by kneading the\nfinger-tips deep down into the abdomen. Indeed, at one time, I thought\nshe would actually push her fingers through the skin and tear the vitals\nfrom the unconscious woman. We told Tama Bulan that we could do nothing\nfurther, and that the woman would probably die; whereupon, knowing the\ntemper of his people, he urged us to leave her to the Dayongs and to come\naway. Shortly after, as we were sitting in the fading twilight in the\nlittle apartment which Tama Bulan had caused to be put up for us, we saw\nthem bring the limp body out of the room and place it on a mat in the\nveranda, only a few feet away from our door. The husband and the brother\nwere frantic with grief and anxiety, and continually bent over her and\nshouted her name; then they took a blow-pipe and, putting one end close\nto her ear, they shouted her name again, hoping to call back her soul\nthat was wandering off. They told her that her little child was crying\nfor her and wanted to be fed. I crept into the group, once, and listened\nfor her heart-beats, but they had stopped for ever. Tama Bulan asked\nme, aside, \u2018Is she alive, Tuan?\u2019 and when I told him she was dead, he\nwhispered, \u2018Don\u2019t tell them; let them discover it themselves.\u2019\n\nA female Dayong was then summoned to find out whither the soul had gone,\nand to lure it back to the body; to this end she made several successive\ndemands of valuable beads from the husband, as a fee, and the agonised,\nheadlong haste with which he ran to get them from time to time, was truly\npathetic.\n\nI have said elsewhere that I could detect among this people no signs of\ngenuine, unselfish affection. Perhaps this should be qualified by saying\nthat at the solemn hour of death, or of its threatened approach, they\nmanifest an emotion in which there certainly seems to be an element of\naffection, but even then alarm or terror seems to predominate.\n\nA flickering damar lamp was placed on the floor near the body, and within\nthe circle of its light the old hag of a Dayong, chanting in a monotonous\nminor key, strutted backward and forward with a shield in one hand and a\nparang in the other, and many strings of beads about her neck and waist.\nTwice she paused to ask for a young chicken, and when it was handed to\nher, she seized its head in her mouth and bit it off, sucked a mouthful\nof blood from the neck and spat it on the floor, closely scrutinising\nhow it had splattered. Throughout this scene the grief-stricken, wailing\nreiteration of the dead woman\u2019s name echoed through the veranda, now but\ndimly lit with damar lamps; every sound of mirth and gaiety was hushed;\nthe only noise, except the wailings and the Dayong, came from the dogs\nand the pigs beneath the house, where they snarled and fought over the\nremnants of the feast that had fallen through the floor.\n\nWhen the female Dayong had done her utmost to recall the soul, and had\nfailed, our good, faithful friend, Tama Talun, volunteered to try his\npower. He demanded no costly beads, merely a parang, and in the same\nmanner as his predecessor he walked backward and forward in the circle\nof light. We could not understand a word of what he was saying, but\nevery now and then he threw down his parang so that its point stuck in\nthe floor, where it remained swaying from side to side. As it swayed he\nwalked slowly, about ten paces from it, and then gave a hop in the air\nand a shrill shout. Then slowly he walked back to the parang, pulled it\nup, and continued his chanting and walking.\n\nWhile this was going on, the group suddenly realised that the woman\nwas veritably dead, beyond all hope. With a scream the husband and the\nbrother snatched up the body and rushed into the family room with it;\nsome of the group followed, and some crept silently away into the dark\ncorners of the veranda.\n\nBefore long, Tama Bulan came to tell us that the people were in a highly\nexcited state, and, most unfortunately, they held us responsible for the\nwoman\u2019s tragic and sudden death, and that we had better remain in our\nlittle room and not venture out into the veranda.\n\nIt was not the most pleasant situation imaginable. We were well aware of\nthe excitable nature and the undisciplined minds of the people among whom\nwe were; we knew that they passed in an instant from extreme friendliness\nto a Berserker rage; and we were but two against three hundred; our means\nof defence consisted of only two revolvers. Grave as we knew the danger\nmust be, we very fortunately did not know until some time afterward, from\nTama Bulan, how extreme it was, and how difficult it had been for him to\nsave our lives.\n\nAfter Tama Bulan had left us, we heard a pounding and chopping against\nthe partition wall of the room to which the body had been carried;\nseveral boards were removed, and an opening made from it into the\nveranda; through this opening the corpse was borne; it must not pass\nthrough a doorway used by the living. The poor, inanimate body was decked\nout in all the gay garments so recently worn at the feast, and, with a\ncigarette between the fingers, it was laid partly recumbent on a bier\nthat had been quickly constructed, and draped with white cloth. On the\nbier beside the corpse an old woman seated herself (all this we could\nobserve through the crevices of our room) and at once began a wail for\nthe dead. This lugubrious wailing was kept up, to my certain knowledge,\nwithout intermission for two nights and a day. Of course, there were\nconstant relief parties.\n\nDuring these two nights and a day we remained close prisoners in our\nlittle room. Throughout the first long night Tama Bulan proved himself\ninflexibly our staunch friend; he insisted over and over again on our\ninnocence, and pleaded for us with the adherents of Lueng\u2019s husband and\nbrother, who were clamouring for our heads as offerings to the dead woman\nand as decorations for their homes. This thirst for our blood lasted\nduring our imprisonment, and was throughout restricted to the husband and\nbrother of Lueng and to their immediate friends. They were all guests,\nwho had come to the Naming.\n\nWhen the wailing had been adequately performed the corpse was placed in\na coffin hewn from a large log and the cover sealed down with raw gutta\npercha.\n\nOur most friendly relations with Tama Bulan\u2019s household had not for a\nmoment been broken. Nevertheless, the next day Tama Bulan came to us and\nsaid that, in view of all the circumstances, he thought it best that our\nvisit should come to an end; and, inasmuch as Laki La and his followers\nwere going down the river, we had better take advantage of the chance\nand accompany them. Of course, we acquiesced. The object for which we\nhad come was accomplished. We had seen that which no white man had ever\nbefore reported, namely, the noteworthy ceremonies of a Naming, and\nwe had passed six delightful weeks in the far interior of Borneo, in\nintimate, friendly intercourse with men, whom _nous autres_ are pleased\nto term savages. So we fell to work, packed up our things, distributed\namong our especial friends all that was left of our stores of cloth and\ntobacco, made Tama Bulan\u2019s eyes sparkle with delight over our present of\nsilver dollars, bade good-bye to his daughter Bulan, and his two wives,\nnot forgetting a chuck under the chin to little Lijow, and hastened\ndown to the boat. Our final parting with dear old Tama Bulan was almost\nwatery; and, as we swept out into the current, with our pith helmets we\nwaved a prolonged farewell to the row of flapping palm-leaf hats which\nlined the long veranda.\n\nOld Laki La was as affable as possible while he sat in our canoe, and\nwe even volunteered to draw for him the solitary tooth remaining in his\nlower jaw. He waggled it with his tongue pensively for a moment, and then\nremarked that as he should not live much longer anyhow, he thought that\nit had better die with him. We considered him a most pleasant old fellow,\nuntil we reached his very large house on the Pata, not far below Tama\nBulan\u2019s; but as soon as we touched his landing-place we were undeceived;\nhe disembarked without so much as turning round to say good-bye, and\nbehind him trooped all our paddlers, whom we had expected to take us down\nat least as far as Tama Lohong\u2019s house on the Baram.\n\nHere was a serious difficulty, and Laki La would pay absolutely no\nattention to any appeal to him for men.\n\nIt was on this occasion that the man I mentioned in the first paragraph\nof this chapter came forward most kindly, and offered to get together\nsome men to take us as far as Tama Lohong\u2019s, and all the way down to the\nFort, if necessary; and so it fell out. It made me blush to think of the\ningratitude I showed in forgetting his name, and I am still blushing; for\neven now, cudgel my brains as I will, I cannot recall it.\n\n\n\n\n_EARLY TRAINING OF A HEAD-HUNTER_\n\n\nOne evening, an hour before sunset, at the time when in every direction,\nthe angular outlines of the huge fruit-bats, with bodies as large as a\ncat, are silhouetted against the sky, as they make an unswerving and\nmajestic flight toward their nocturnal feeding-grounds, we halted our\ndug-out canoes at the muddy sloping bank in front of the house of Aban\nAvit, an influential Chief on the Tinjar River.\n\nWe were uninvited, and, as far as we knew, unexpected, but the host, upon\nwhom we were thus unceremoniously forcing ourselves, advanced to meet\nus, as we ascended the unsteady, plank walk, raised on piles, leading to\nhis house, and, with a warmth unusual among an undemonstrative people,\nwelcomed us with a smile that revealed every one of his thirty-two\ncoal-black teeth. We were, to be sure, old friends, having stopped at\nhis house on our way up-river; but, as he had afterward heard that we\nwere going to make the ascent of Mount Dulit, where all varieties of\nevil Spirits and dragons have their haunts, he said he had really never\nexpected to see us again; and had we not returned just when we did, he,\ngood soul, had planned to go with a party of his bravest men in search\nof us; but here we were again safe and sound, none the worse for the\ndreadful journey, and not one of us marked with the scar of \u2018Gum Toh,\u2019 _a\nghost\u2019s-clutch_,\u2014a cutaneous tumor, to which these dark-skinned people\nare subject, well known to us as a _Keloid of Addison_, but which the\nBorneans aver is due to the clutch of a ghost\u2019s hand. As soon as we were\nwithin the veranda of the house, Aban Avit insisted that his own private\nroom should be resigned to us; accordingly, his manifold possessions\nwere moved to one side, and clean rattan mats spread upon the floor; his\nfireplace, heaped with dry wood, was put at the disposal of our Chinese\ncook, and several long bamboo water-jars were brought from the river so\nthat there should be no delay in the preparation of our evening meal.\nAh, the hospitality of a head-hunter!\n\n[Illustration: ABAN AVIT, A BERAWAN CHIEF OF THE TINJAR RIVER.]\n\nWhen all our numerous boxes and bundles had been brought up from the\nboats, we wandered inquisitively about the long-house, asking endless\nquestions of our host and of his brother; and, as they both spoke Malay\nfluently, our conversation drifted into all sorts of channels. Aban Avit\nis a widower, as the _Aban_ in his name declares, and Avit was the name\nof his wife. The Kayans, and allied tribes, adopt names to suit the\nvarying events of their lives. Thus, a widower always takes his dead\nwife\u2019s name prefixed by Aban; a father bears the name of his first-born\nchild prefixed by Tama, or Ma, meaning _father_, as long as the child\nlives; should the child die, Tama is changed to _Oyang_. For instance,\nTama Bulan means the _father of Bulan_. Oyang Batu means he who is\n_bereft of his son Batu_. Bulan is a girl\u2019s name, meaning _Moon_; Batu\nis a boy\u2019s name, and means _Stone_, equivalent to our _Peter_. If Bulan,\nthe daughter of Tama Bulan, should have a son named Madang, Tama Bulan,\nwhose original name was Wang, would then adopt the grandfather\u2019s title of\n_Laki_, and be known as Laki Madang.\n\nOur host [whose photograph is given on the opposite page] was one of the\nbest types of the inland tribes.\n\nThroughout his house, on partition walls and on rafters, there was\nscroll-work in black and white paint, the black lines evidently made with\na finger and the dots of white with a thumb. On the wall of his private\nroom, just above his sleeping-place, were two much conventionalised and\ninterlaced figures with arms and legs like long tendrils. These figures,\nAban Avit explained, represented \u2018Wawa\u2019 monkeys (the _Gibbon Ape_),\nanimals held sacred by his family for certainly three generations, and\nnever killed by any member of the household; he regarded them as his best\nof friends, and that day was sure to be lucky when they crossed his path\nin the jungle, or when their musical, almost bird-like, call was heard\nnear the house.\n\nThis hereditary veneration of an animal suggests a trace of totemism,\notherwise rare in Borneo. Aban Avit, in telling us about his veneration\nfor the Wawa, cast down his eyes and spoke in a voice so low we could\nhardly hear him, as if the very breathing of a name so sacred were\nprofanation. He told us the painting was the work of his own hands.\n\nFrom this private apartment, which even at high noon was dark, but as\nsoon as the sun had set was verily as dark as the proverbial pocket, we\nmade our way to the veranda, where daylight still lingered; here again\nwe noticed our host\u2019s love of decoration; the rack whereon visitors as\nsoon as they enter the veranda, hang their parangs, instead of being a\ncustomary row of pegs or merely crotched sticks, was a board, whereof the\nlower edge, as it hung horizontally from the rafters, about half way up\nthe slant of the roof, had been carved by the Chief himself into graceful\ndouble-headed hooks and loops, so that the belts attached to the parangs\ncould be easily hung on them and the weapons would be out of the way, yet\nconveniently at hand. It is an unequivocal insult for a guest to enter\na friendly veranda with his parang about his waist; etiquette demands\nthat it be unfastened before stepping into the house; it should be then\nlaid aside or hung on the rack while the owner is engaged in friendly\ngossip. The house was new at the time of our visit, in fact, it was not\nyet wholly finished; at the up-river end, five or six huge piles had been\nplanted for its further extension; these posts, about fifteen feet out\nof the ground and eighteen inches in diameter, were likewise carved, but\nwith grotesque devil-faces, from whose grinning mouths tusks like the\nwild boar\u2019s protruded, below them snakes, and spiral curves representing\nthe recurved protuberance on the beak and head of the Horn-bill,\u2014the\nwar-bird of all the Kayan and Kenyah tribes. Here and there, of course,\nconventionalised figures of the Wawa were to be detected. It seems an\ninviolable rule with all Bornean decoration that the representation of\nany living thing must be hinted at so grotesquely, that it takes a subtle\nimagination to discern what it really represents; possibly, this is due\nto the idea, so widely scattered throughout the far East, that to make a\nlife-like image of any animal involves a risk of danger to the maker,\u2014a\ndanger which may be vague or otherwise as chance may interpret it,\u2014and of\nwhich we see an intimation, possibly, in the second commandment of the\nDecalogue.\n\nWhen twilight suddenly deepened into night and blazing brands were\nbrought to replenish the fire on the hearth opposite the Chief\u2019s door,\nwe squatted round about it, not for warmth, but for the cheer of its\nflicker, and because,\u2014well, does a pipe ever taste as good as when lit by\nan ember?\n\n[Illustration: A KAYAN YOUTH, SHOWING THE RAISED SCAR, CALLED BY THE\nNATIVES \u2018GUM TOH\u2019 OR GHOST\u2019S CLUTCH.\n\nIT IS BELIEVED BY THE KAYANS THAT SUCH A SCAR OR WELT IS CAUSED BY THE\nFINGERS OF AN EVIL SPIRIT; SHOULD THE VICTIM BE SEIZED ROUND THE NECK HE\nNEVER CHOKES TO DEATH, BUT AWAKES. THEY MAINTAIN THAT THESE SCARS FORM IN\nA SINGLE NIGHT; BUT THIS IS EXTREMELY DOUBTFUL. RAISED SCARS OVER ALL OLD\nWOUNDS ARE EXCEEDINGLY COMMON AMONG THESE DARK-SKINNED RACES.]\n\nAban Avit sat beside us, and while we were filling our pipes he produced\nfrom the bamboo box, hanging at his side, some tobacco and some of that\nbeautifully delicate dried leaf of the wild banana cut from the heart of\nthe plant, before the leaf is unfurled; in unskilled hands it tears like\nwet tissue-paper, but in Aban Avit\u2019s a tapering, symmetrical cigarette,\neight inches long, was skilfully rolled on his thigh. A circle of small\nboys squatted around us, their bright, little eyes watching our every\nmovement as intently as we stare at the actions of some strange animal\nin a Zo\u00f6logical Garden. If we struck a match, or sneezed, or buttoned\nour coats, or wiped our faces with a handkerchief, dilated eyes and open\nmouths attended the action with wrapt interest. A few men sat near their\nChief, and now and then murmured comments to one another in their native\ntongue, which we did not fully understand, but could guess from the\ndirection of their eyes, that we were the subject of their conversation.\nThe evening duties of the household were not, however, interrupted on our\naccount; men with bundles of dried fire-wood on their shoulders, women\nstaggering under a load of bamboo joints filled with water, and stacked\nin hampers on their backs, were constantly passing by us, treading\nheavily, and making the loose boards of the floor clatter and rattle\nas they plodded their weary way to their apartments. For a time there\nwas almost a constant succession of canoes coming to the landing-place,\nbringing back the workers from the rice-clearings. The women all bending\nunder full hampers, some with fresh, uncurled fern-fronds, and the\nsprouts of a variety of large Canna, which they stew with rice to add\nvariety to their diet; some with bundles of the young banana leaf,\nwhereof to make cigarette-wrappers, and others with wild tapioca and wild\nyams. Each one carried her own light paddle in one hand, and a large\nround and flat sun-hat in the other. None of them glanced to right or\nleft, but made her way direct to her family room, and like a ghost faded\ninto the darkness through the small doorway. After them followed the\nmen, dangling their parangs in one hand and trailing their blow-pipes\nand spears in the other. They, too, looked fixedly ahead, until they\nhad hung up their parang and stuck their spear perpendicularly into a\nrafter so that the shaft should be kept straight; this done, they joined\nthe group round the fire, or went down to the river to bathe. At the\nfar end of the house some young fellows were playing mournful tunes on\na Kaluri, and its organ-like notes were wafted fitfully down to us; now\nand then a baby\u2019s wail chimed in, and then was quieted by the mother\u2019s\ncrooning lullaby. Beneath the house, the contented grunting of pigs and\nthe clucking of chickens denoted that these omen-givers had returned from\ntheir foraging in the jungle, and had sought the shelter of home for the\nnight.\n\n[Illustration: VERANDA OF ABAN AVIT\u2019S HOUSE.\n\nTHE COLLECTION OF TROPHY-HEADS IS HUNG, AS USUAL, ABOVE THE HEARTH IN\nFRONT OF THE CHIEF\u2019S ROOM. ON THE LEFT, NEAR THE EDGE OF THE PHOTOGRAPH,\nIS THE WOMAN WHO HAD BEEN ABDUCTED FROM HER HOME ON THE BARAM RIVER, AND\nWAS AT THIS TIME BEING RETURNED TO HER FAMILY BY LAKI JOK ORANG, A CHIEF\nOF THE REJANG RIVER (see p. 105). THE MAN RESTING HIS FEET AGAINST THE\nSIDE OF THE HEARTH IS THE BROTHER OF ABAN AVIT. IN THE UPPER LEFT-HAND\nCORNER IS THE RACK WHEREON THE PARANGS OF VISITORS MUST BE HUNG.]\n\nThus we sat as twilight faded in Aban Avit\u2019s veranda,\u2014in the home of\nthese people, whereof every detail made up their familiar, common-place\nlife, the only life from cradle to grave that they had ever known or\nwould know, while we by their side were aliens from a world twelve\nthousand miles away, from a country that they had never heard of, and\nof a race which many of them had never seen before. We were in the very\nheart of the Bornean jungle, guests, in the house of a barbarous \u2018savage\u2019\nand bloodthirsty \u2018head-hunter,\u2019\u2014but, these terms, when applied at that\nmoment to our host, what misnomers! Could contrast be more emphatic than\nthe perfect peacefulness of our surroundings, and the thought that a man\nas benignant and hospitable as Aban Avit should cherish as his highest\naim in life to add every year to that cluster of human heads hanging\nfrom the rafters just above us, and gently swaying in the heat ascending\nfrom the flames? Is it conceivable that this gentle-hearted man, and\nhis circle of good-humored friends, could take pride and pleasure in\nrecognising and rehearsing the slashes and gashes borne by each head?\nThe long gash there, on the left side of that skull, showing through the\npiece of old casting-net, was made by Tama Lohong\u2019s parang, the very one\nwith carved wooden handle that he carries to this day. The owner of the\nnext skull was fishing when he fell a victim to a stealthy thrust from\nApoi\u2019s spear. This small one is that of a young girl who tried to escape\nfrom the rear of a house when they burned out those Madangs, way over\nnear the Rejang River. Thus they can enumerate them all, chief and slave,\nman, woman, girl, and boy. It all seemed so at variance with Aban Avit\u2019s\ngenial, courteous hospitality, that I wondered if it were possible\nto look at these skulls through his eyes, and to sympathise with his\nthrill of pride and exultation in them. I waited until Aban Avit had his\ncigarette fairly rolled and lit, and then, trying not to appear in the\nleast antagonistic, lest I should fail to elicit his genuine feelings,\nI asked, \u2018O Sabilah, [Blood-brother] why is it that all you people of\nKalamantan kill each other and hang up these heads? In the land I come\nfrom such a thing is never known; I fear that it would be ill-spoken of\nthere, indeed perhaps, thought quite horrible. What does Aban Avit think\nof it?\u2019 He turned to me in utter, absolute surprise, at first with eyes\nhalf-closed, as doubting that he heard aright, and letting the smoke curl\nslowly out of his mouth for a moment, he then replied, with unwonted\nvehemence:\u2014\u2018No, Tuan! No! the custom is not horrible. It is an ancient\ncustom, a good, beneficent custom, bequeathed to us by our fathers\nand our fathers\u2019 fathers; it brings us blessings, plentiful harvests,\nand keeps off sickness, and pains. Those who were once our enemies,\nhereby become our guardians, our friends, our benefactors.\u2019 \u2018But,\u2019 I\ninterrupted, \u2018how does Aban Avit know that these dried heads do all this?\nDon\u2019t you make it an excuse just because you like to shed blood and to\nkill?\u2019 \u2018Ah, Tuan, you white men had no great Chief, like Tokong, to show\nyou what was right; haven\u2019t you ever heard the story of Tokong and his\npeople? He was Rajah of the Sibops and the father of all the Kayans,\nand lived long, long, long ago.\u2019 I was not acquainted with the story of\nTokong, so I begged him to relate it; then, squatting on the floor with\nhis forearms lightly resting on his knees, and his hands dangling in\nfront of him, he meditatively relit his cigarette, and, gazing lovingly\nup at the cluster of skulls, began:\u2014\n\n\u2018It was in the old, old days, long before the Government came here, (by\nthe Government, I mean our Tuan Rajah Brooke,) it happened that on a time\nthe descendant of the heaven-born Katirah Murai, Tokong, and his men of\nthe Sibop tribe were on an expedition down-river to punish a household of\nthieves who had stolen their crop of rice the year before, and had chased\nTokong\u2019s women and children from the jungle-clearings. It was the time\nof year when the fields had just been planted, and before the rice had\nsprouted; so Tokong took out his warriors to teach these thieves that\nthis year there should be no more stealing. When they had gone down-river\nto the great bamboo clump where they had to cross through the jungle,\nthey drew their canoes up to the bank, and, with Tokong leading, started\non their stealthy march. When the eye of day looked straight down at\nthem over their heads, they rested on the bank of a small stream which\nran round that great rock, (perhaps, Tuan, you have seen it,)\u2014we call it\n\u201cBatu Kusieng,\u201d\u2014near the head-waters of the Belaga and Tinjar Rivers.\nThey had cooked, and eaten, and had drawn out the pegs of wood whereon\ntheir rice-pots rested, and Rajah Tokong was slipping his head through\nhis war-coat and girding on his parang, when he heard, coming from under\nthe great rock, a squeaking, croaking voice, uttering, \u201cWong kok\u00f3k teta\nBat\u00f3k.\u201d[7] He paused, and, turning round to listen to the voice, saw a\nlarge frog with its young ones about it sitting just under the edge of\nthe rock. \u201cGreetings to you, Kop,\u201d [Frog] said the Rajah. \u201cWhat is the\nmeaning of your croaking?\u201d and Kop replied, \u201cAlas, what fools you Sibops\nare! You go out to battle and kill men, but you take back with you to\nornament your shields only their hair; whereas, did you but know it, if\nyou took the whole head you would have blessings beyond words. Insooth,\nyou heavy-livered people know not how to take a head. Look here, and\nI\u2019ll show you.\u201d Thus spoke Kop, and straightway seized one of his little\nones, and with one stroke of his parang cut off its head. Tokong was\nexceedingly angry at the impudence and the cruelty of the frog, and,\npaying no further attention to it, ordered his men to advance at once.\nBut some of the older men among them could not help thinking that perhaps\nKop spoke the truth, and that night, while they sat round the fire,\nholding a council of war over the attack on the enemy\u2019s house, close at\nhand, they urged Tokong to allow them to follow the frog\u2019s advice. At\nfirst, Tokong, still very angry because Kop had called the Sibops \u201cfools\u201d\nand \u201cheavy-livered,\u201d refused; but finally, seeing that many of his best\nmen were in favor of it, he granted their request. Next morning, when the\nsky began to turn gray and the birds in the trees were just waking up,\nthe Sibops noiselessly carried armfuls of bark and grass, and placed\nthem beneath the thieves\u2019 house, and set fire to them, and the flames\nran quickly everywhere. Out rushed the men and women, some jumping\ninto the flames, others trying to slide down the house-posts; but all\nwere met with slashes and stabs from the swords and spears of Tokong\u2019s\nmen. Many were killed that day, and the heads of three were cut off\nand carried away by Tokong\u2019s party, who retreated at once, and, almost\nbefore they knew it, were at the landing-place on the river. To their\ngreat amazement, they found their boats all ready and launched! No sooner\nwere they seated than the boats began to move off, of their own accord,\nright up-stream in the direction of home. It was a miracle! The current\nof the stream changed and ran up hill, as it does at flood-tide at the\nmouth of a river. They almost immediately reached the landing-place close\nto their house, and were overjoyed to see that the crops planted only\nfifteen days before had not only sprouted, but had grown, had ripened,\nand were almost ready for the harvest. In great astonishment they hurried\nthrough the clearings, and up to their house. There, they found still\ngreater wonders! those who were ill when the party set out were now well,\nthe lame walked and the blind saw! Rajah Tokong and all his people were\nconvinced on the spot that it was because they had followed Kop\u2019s advice,\nand they vowed a vow that ever afterward the heads of their enemies\nshould be cut off and hung up in their houses. This is the story of Rajah\nTokong, Tuan. We all follow his good example. These heads above us have\nbrought me all the blessings I have ever had; I would not have them taken\nfrom my home for all the silver in the country.\u2019\n\n[Illustration: SKULL OF A CHIEF OF THE KELABIT TRIBE.\n\nIT IS DRAPED WITH STRIPS OF PALM LEAVES, POSSIBLY TO REPRESENT HAIR, AND\nORNAMENTED WITH WOODEN EARS, EAR-PENDANTS, AND A LONG WOODEN NOSE. SUCH\nORNAMENTATION OF SKULLS IS NOT USUAL, AT LEAST IN THE BARAM DISTRICT.]\n\nHe turned to appeal to his people sitting near, and they, as many as\nunderstood Malay, nodded their heads, glancing from him to us, and\nmurmuring \u2018Bet\u00fal, bet\u00fal!\u2019 [\u2019Tis true, \u2019tis true] He paused to get an\nember out of the glowing heap of ashes to light his cigarette again,\nwhich had become much crumpled during the narration of Rajah Tokong\u2019s\nfirst head-hunt, and after he had it once more in shape, I asked him if\nhe would not regard it as somewhat of an inconvenience if his own head\nwere to be cut off, just to bring blessings to an enemy\u2019s house. \u2018Tuan,\u2019\nhe replied, \u2018I do not want to become dead any more than I want to move\nfrom where I am; if my head were cut off, my second self would go to\nBulun Matai, [the Fields of the Dead,] where beyond a doubt I should be\nhappy; the Dayongs tell us, and surely they know, that those who have\nbeen brave and have taken heads, as I have, will be respected in that\nother world and will have plenty of riches. When I die my friends will\nbeat the gongs loud and shout out my name, so that those who are already\nin Bulun Matai, will know that I am coming, and meet me when I cross over\nthe stream on Bintang Sik\u00f3pa [the great log.] I shall be glad enough to\nsee them. But I don\u2019t want to go to-day, nor to-morrow.\u2019 His faith seemed\nimmovable, but I could not resist the temptation of suggesting a doubt,\nso I asked him what if the Dayongs were wrong, and there were no Bulun\nMatai, and that when he stopped breathing he really died and knew no\nmore. He answered me almost with scorn for such a doubt. \u2018Tuan, nothing\nreally dies, it changes from one thing to another. The Dayongs must be\nright, for they have been to the Fields of the Dead and come back to tell\nus all about it.\u2019 \u2018Don\u2019t you feel sorry,\u2019 I asked, \u2018for those that you\nkill? It hurts badly to be cut by a parang; you don\u2019t like it, and those\nwhom you cut down dislike it as much as you do; they are no more anxious\nto go to Apo Leggan or Long Jul\u00e1n [Regions in Bulun Matai] than you are.\u2019\n\u2018Ah, Tuan,\u2019 he replied, with the suggestion of a patronizing chuckle in\nhis voice, \u2018you feel just as I did, when I was a little boy and had never\nseen blood. But I outgrew such feelings, as every one should. My father,\na very great warrior, and known and feared by the people of many, many\nrivers, wanted his sons to be as brave and fearless as he was himself.\nSo one day he dragged out into the jungle old B\u00e1llo Lah\u00edng, [widow\nof Lah\u00edng,] and tied her fast to a tree by rattans on her wrists and\nankles. She was a slave-woman, captured when she was a young girl, by his\ngrandfather over in the Batang Kayan country, and, at the time I speak\nof, she was very old, and weak, and very thin, and couldn\u2019t do any work\nbecause she was nearly blind. My father told my brother yonder and me,\nand one or two other boys, all of us, little fellows then, (I remember,\nmy ears were still sore from having these holes for tiger-cat\u2019s teeth cut\nin them,) well,\u2014he told us we must go out with spears and learn to stick\nthem in something alive, and not to be afraid to see blood, nor to hear\nscreams,\u2014then I felt just as you do. Besides, I was really very fond of\nold B\u00e1llo Lah\u00edng; she it was who tied on my first chawat [waist-cloth]\nfor me, I remembered it well, for she laughed a great deal at me, and\nthen I saw how few teeth she had, and she often used to sing me to sleep\nwith that song about \u201cTama Poyong with a twisted leg.\u201d I couldn\u2019t bear\nthe thought of hurting her, and sending her away off to Long Jul\u00e1n, so I\nflatly refused to take a spear with me. But my father said I must; there\nwas no harm in it; that it was right, and I must take one; he pulled me\nby the arm, and I had to follow. Then I was afraid she might see me, so\nI sneaked round behind the tree and just pricked her with the point of\nthe iron, then she guessed what my father had tied her there for, and\nscreamed as loud as she could, \u201cOh, don\u2019t! Oh, don\u2019t! Oh, don\u2019t!\u201d over\nand over again, and very fast; I pricked her a little harder the next\ntime to hear what she would say, but she only kept on shrieking the same\nwords. Then one of the other boys, smaller even than I, ran his spear\nright through her thigh, like this, and the old people laughed and said\nthat was good; and the blood ran down all over the wrinkles on her knees;\nand then I wanted to make it run just in the same way, so I pushed and\npushed my spear hard into her; and after that, I never thought whether\nit was B\u00e1llo Lah\u00edng or not, I just watched the blood; and we all ran\nround her piercing her here and piercing there until she sank right down\non the ground with her hands in the rattan loops above her head, which\ntumbled over to one side, and no more blood came out of her. Then my\nfather praised us all loudly, and me in particular, and said we had been\ngood boys and had done well! How could I feel at all sorry then for the\nold thing? I thought only that I had obeyed my father and that I was a\ngreat warrior and could wear horn-bill\u2019s feathers, and tiger-cat\u2019s teeth.\nThat\u2019s the way to become a Man; a baby is afraid of blood, Tuan. My\nfather was right. No man can be brave who doesn\u2019t love to see his spear\ndraw blood.\u2019\n\nI responded with many nods, drew furiously at my pipe, and fell silent.\nAban Avit believed that he had made a convert.\n\n[Illustration: ONE OF THE BELLES OF ABAN AVIT\u2019S HOUSE.\n\nACCORDING TO THE FEMININE FASHIONS OF THE BERAWANS, THE EAR-LOBES ARE NOT\nELONGATED WITH WEIGHTS, BUT ARE STRETCHED AROUND DISCS OF WOOD OR LARGE\nMUSHROOM-SHAPED PLUGS OF SILVER-WORK, IMPORTED BY MALAY TRADERS FROM\nBRUNEI, THE METROPOLIS OF NORTHERN BORNEO. FAINT LINES OF TATTOOING MAY\nBE SEEN ON THE ARMS BELOW THE ELBOW AND ON THE INSTEP OF THE RIGHT FOOT.\nTHE YOUNG WOMAN WAS EXCEEDINGLY WORRIED BY THE APPEARANCE OF MY CAMERA,\nAND ASSUMED, SO SHE DECLARED, THAT WITH IT I COULD SEE HER THROUGH AND\nTHROUGH AND KNOW HER VERY THOUGHTS.]\n\nAban Avit\u2019s faith in a future life was invincible, and thoroughly\ncharacteristic of the Oriental mind, which accepts that faith with an\nassurance which should put to the blush an Occidental Agnostic. To be\nsure, to attain the Oriental Paradise does not depend upon the adherence\nin this life to that morality which distinguishes good and bad actions.\nIt is noteworthy, that in several of these Oriental languages there is no\nword to express \u2018sin.\u2019 A cruel and vindictive man is to be shunned merely\nbecause his actions are disagreeable or inconvenient to those about\nhim. But when he dies, and can then cause no more trouble, his memory\nis as cherished as a Saint\u2019s, and those who knew him will give him the\ncustomary amount of profuse wailing, and believe that his spirit passes\nas surely to the same \u2018heaven\u2019 as the kindest and gentlest of them all.\n\nHow greatly the faith of the Borneans in eternal life is indebted to\ntheir surroundings can be realized perhaps only by one who has lived in\nthat boundless jungle, where, on every hand, Nature is in her wildest,\nmost exuberant, most lavish mood; where life dies and is renewed in an\nhour. Is it any wonder that the Jungle people, with this eternal loss\nand eternal gain ever present, think no more of cutting down a human\nfellow-creature than of chopping down a tree or of plucking a gaudy\nflower? The jungle is an ever-present ocular proof that life follows\nlife. Here beneath our cold skies we are every year reminded of decay and\ndeath in the withering grass, the falling leaves, and the bare branches\nof winter; the long waiting for Spring bids us look forward to a future\naway from this scene of death. In the jungle there is no death, the\nleaves fall while they are still green, and in a night, lo! new ones take\ntheir place; an ancient tree falls, but the mighty trunk does not lie\narid and stiff to be slowly covered with pale leathery lichens; hardly\nhas it touched the ground before it is covered with a translucent shroud\nof tender green, which seems but a renewal and continuation of its own\nlife; and before the burning sun shining through the gap can scorch the\ndelicate orchids, the gap is closed by a new eager growth and a young\ntree springs from the earth upturned by the broken roots. Can any dweller\namid such scenes believe otherwise than that death is but an exchange of\nlife?\n\nOf what can be called a religion the Borneans have little; they are,\nto a certain extent, idolaters, and their projects are banned or blest\nby omens drawn from certain birds and animals, but mainly by auguries\ninterpreted from the livers of sacrificed swine and from fowls; wherein\nthey are no more barbarous than the ancient Romans. But the one\ncustom, to which they all cling with a tenacity born of what is to\nthem its proved efficacy, is the taking of human heads. Can they not\nrecount indisputable proof after proof, drawn from their own veritable\nexperience, that these precious influences over the domestic hearth\nbring the very purest of blessings, and health, and wealth to the whole\nhousehold?\n\n[Illustration: THE DRUDGE OF A KAYAN HOUSEHOLD.\n\nONE OF THE OLD, WORN-OUT DRUDGES OF A KAYAN HOUSEHOLD, WHOSE DAYS OF\nACTIVE LABOR IN THE FIELDS BEING OVER, HER DUTIES CONSIST IN CARRYING UP\nTHE WATER FOR COOKING FROM THE RIVER. IT WAS SUCH AN OLD WOMAN AS THIS\nWHO WAS SACRIFICED IN THE EDUCATION OF ABAN AVIT AND HIS BROTHER.]\n\nBe it borne in mind that an enemy\u2019s head is not like the scalp of our\nAmerican Indians, a mere trophy; it is an object of heartfelt veneration,\nan earnest of blessing to the whole community. Such is the round of life\namong them that a pretext for a head-hunt is readily found; the solemn\nceremony of putting off the mourning for a dead Chief suggests it; or\nwhen a harvest is completed; or when a Chief takes a new wife, etc. In\nall these ceremonies the acquisition of new heads is of prime importance,\nand those, too, who did not participate in the hunt, and even very young\nboys, may share in the glory of this acquisition, if they will merely put\non war-clothes, and before the heads are taken up into the house strike a\nblow at them with a parang. [The ceremonies attending head-hunts I give\nelsewhere.] Water sprinkled from the palm leaves, wherein the heads have\nbeen wrapped, purifies women after periods of mourning, and they may\nonce more wear their ornaments, and bathe in the river, and the men may\nthereafter shave their temples. When finally hung up in the house, the\nheads have lost all semblance to life, and are mere blackened skulls, not\nexactly ornamental, it must be admitted, but by no means as repulsive as\nmight be at first supposed.\n\nAmong the Kayans it is most strictly forbidden for any one, except the\nvery aged, to touch these heads. Sickness, possibly death, follows a\ndisregard of this rule; but the aged, who are at any rate on the brink\nof the grave, may fearlessly handle them. At a harvest festival, it is\nan Iban custom to take the old skulls down, and women then carry them,\ntogether with the new ones, in their dances; rice is thrust between the\njaws, and arrack poured over them, that they also, to the extent of their\nlimited capacity, may share in the feast.\n\n[This account of Aban Avit\u2019s conversation is more or less composite;\nthe words which I have put into his mouth are not solely his, but there\nis none of them that I have not heard emphatically expressed by other\nnatives; I have merely made one man the mouth-piece of several. The story\nof the sacrifice of the old woman for the moral and physical training of\nthe boys, I have endeavored to give as I heard it.]\n\nIn the accompanying view of the veranda of Aban Avit\u2019s house, the skulls\nmay be seen hanging in a cluster over the fireplace around which the\npeople are grouped. For this photograph a trap-door in the roof had to\nbe raised to admit light. Draped over the skulls, here and there, are\npieces of bark cloth and shreds of palm leaves; the framework whereon the\nheads are hung is made of hoops of rattan, one inside the other, so that\nthese invaluable relics may be arranged in a thick symmetrical cluster.\nAmong some tribes it is customary to place the skull of a rhinoceros in\nthe centre of the group of human skulls. This animal is so ferocious and\nso hard to kill that it is deemed worthy of the honor. Along the roof,\nhalf across the open trap-door, is the board mentioned above, carved at\nits lower edge into hooks, on which visitors hang their parangs while\nthey sit to talk or feast with the Chief. The man with his feet resting\nupon the edge of the fireplace is the brother of Aban Avit, and will\nprobably succeed to the Chiefship; his word even now seems to carry great\nweight in all councils. At the time of taking the photograph the house\nwas filled with guests,\u2014a party of peace from the Baram River, on their\nway to the head-waters of the Tinjar to give and take pledges of friendly\nrelationship, and to pay off and collect indemnities for the raids and\nslaughterings of their fathers and grandfathers.\n\n[Illustration: VERANDA OF ABAN DENG\u2019S HOUSE ON THE APOH.\n\nTHE TROPHY-SKULLS ARE HUNG FROM A DECORATED BEAM, EXTENDING ALMOST THE\nWHOLE LENGTH OF THE VERANDA. IN FRONT OF THE CHIEF\u2019S DOOR SEVERAL SKULLS\nARE TIED TOGETHER ON A FRAMEWORK OF RATTAN; THESE ARE POSSIBLY HIS\nPRIVATE COLLECTION.]\n\n\n\n\n_A WAR EXPEDITION_\n\n\nAbout a year and a half before my first visit to Borneo, a Chinese\ntrader, in the upper Tinjar River, had been killed solely for the sake\nof his head. Killing is by no means uncommon in Borneo; but this was\na murder so cold-blooded, and the victim, moreover, a Chinaman, so\nunprepared for the game of head-hunting, that an unusual effort was\nmade to find and punish the murderer. Although the head, just after it\nwas cut off, had been hung up in the veranda of a house, and although\nthe river-bank in front had been enlivened with a \u2018Death-post,\u2019 whereto\nportions of the victim had been attached, by way of public notice that a\nhead had just been taken, the perpetrator of the deed showed, however, a\nguilty reluctance in claiming any glory, or even in making himself known;\nfurthermore, not a member of that household, nor of any household on\nthe Tinjar River, would give the slightest clue to the identity of the\nmurderer. All the Chiefs, hitherto trusted, told endless lies about the\ncrime, and with such success that they believed that they had at last\nbaffled and befooled the \u2018Prenta,\u2019 the _Government_.\n\nOne day, about two years after the murder, a Malay trader, who had been\nup among the Tinjar people for many months, and was perhaps feeling a\nlittle sore over his poor bargains, let fall to Dr. Hose, the English\nResident of the Baram district, some hints that again set in motion the\nwheels of justice and soon fastened the guilt of that murder on Tinggi,\na dweller in the house of Tama Talip. The culprit was at once summoned\nto appear for trial at the Baram Fort, but his people hid him and\nresolutely defied the Government; consequently, a reward was offered for\nhis capture alive, or for his head, if dead. Nevertheless, the Tinjar\npeople continued to conceal and protect Tinggi, even after an influential\nChief had been deposed by the Government for his duplicity in the matter,\nand, possibly, for the transparent quality of the lies he manufactured.\nThere remained, therefore, nothing to be done but to appoint an entire\nstranger, a native from another river, to lead an expedition against the\nLerons, the tribe that was protecting Tinggi. The man thus appointed\nwas Tama Bulan, a Kenyah, and the most influential Chief in the Baram\ndistrict, who accepted the appointment and gathered a force to ascend the\nTinjar. Among his followers was Juman, a Kayan Chief and the lucky and\nsole possessor of a gun. Tama Bulan had been strictly commanded to take\nTinggi, and no one else but Tinggi; on no account was he to suffer his\nKayan or Kenyah followers to kill innocent people. Juman, with a small\nparty ascended the Tinjar, to a point opposite the house of the Lerons.\nTinggi, the murderer, emerged unattended from the house, entered a light\ncanoe, and was crossing the river, apparently to surrender himself, when,\nat the last moment, he seemed to change his mind, and resolved to attempt\nan escape. In an instant, taking advantage of the swift current, he was\ndashing past Juman\u2019s camp. The details of his death I had, as follows,\nfrom Juman himself: \u2018Tinggi came down the river, Tuan, lying flat in his\ncanoe until he was just opposite to me and my men; then he stood up,\nstraight, brandishing his spear and his parang, and shouting defiance to\nus all. But,\u2019 continued Juman, his eyes glowing with excitement, \u2018I was\nall ready, Tuan; I raised this \u201csnappang\u201d[8] of mine, that the Government\ngave me; it was loaded full of nails; and I shot that insect, Tinggi,\nright here,\u2014through the breast. Over he fell backward in his boat; he\nkept on waving his arms; I paddled fast after him in a canoe; I got along\nside of him; I caught hold of his head; I pulled it over to the edge of\nthe boat; with two chops of my parang, like that and like that, off it\ncame.\u2019\n\nThis head was the first Juman had ever taken, and measureless was his\npride in displaying the tattooing, to which he was thereby entitled,\non the back of one of his hands; the other hand was to be similarly\ndecorated as soon as the harvesting was over. Tinggi\u2019s head he was\nallowed to hang from the roof of his veranda, opposite his door, in his\nhouse at Bowang Takun. Although this slaying of Tinggi was retributive\njustice, yet according to Borneo sentiment, it was a _causa belli_,\nand when I arrived at the Baram River, on a second visit to Borneo,\nabout three months after these events, there were already reports of\nretaliating expeditions led by Tinggi\u2019s brother, Kilup, in which the\nTinjar people generally joined, against the peaceful dwellers on the\nBaram; women had been frightened from the rice-clearings by the traces of\nrecent camp-fires, and of fresh footprints in the adjacent jungle, and\ndoubtless would have been attacked, and killed, and decapitated, had not\ntheir husbands mounted guard each day, clad in war-coat and war-cap, and\nfully armed with spear, parang, and shield. Reports of new disturbances\nand threatened outrage came by every canoe from up the river that halted\nat the Baram Bazaar, until finally Dr. Hose determined to crush out\nthis portentous feud betimes before it reached greater and, possibly,\nunmanageable proportions.\n\n[Illustration: BORNEAN WAR COSTUME.\n\nTHE FEATHERS OF THE HORN-BILL ON THE WAR-CLOAK, AND THE TUFTS OF HUMAN\nHAIR ON THE SHIELD, WHICH THE WARRIOR HOLDS, ARE THE BADGES OF A\nSUCCESSFUL HEAD-HUNTER.]\n\nThe whole Kayan population of the river was, moreover, somewhat in a\ncommotion, owing to the accidental death of Oyang Luhat, one of its\ninfluential Chiefs. The control of three or four hundred people had thus\nfallen to his eldest son, Abun, and the large household were beginning\nto fret under the tedious restraints of the prolonged mourning; these\nrestraints could be removed only by adding to the household collection\na beneficent fresh head or two; consequently, under a new and vigorous\nyoung leader there was imminent danger of an extensive and formidable\nraid upon all the Tinjar people. Furthermore, it happened to be just at\nthe beginning of the rainy season, when there was nothing to be done but\nto wait for the rice, already planted, to sprout and grow. Even in highly\ncivilized communities, Satan finds some mischief still for idle hands\nto do, so, too, in Borneo what can be more natural than that days of\nidleness should prompt a mischievous use of spear and parang?\n\nHis Excellency, Rajah Brooke, (this wise and beneficent ruler,) has,\nof course, made every possible effort to eradicate the custom of\nhead-hunting in Sarawak, but in a country without roads, and where news\ntravels no faster than the river\u2019s sluggish current, swift retribution\nfor any outrage is impossible; and, with the small force of Englishmen\nwho act as his Residents, it is almost inconceivably difficult, in\ndistricts isolated by well-nigh impenetrable jungle, to follow up\nand arrest any offender, much more a head-hunter, whom the natives\nthemselves, holding head-hunting to be a most praiseworthy virtue, screen\nto the best of their ability.\n\nWhere the decapitated victim has relatives or near and dear friends,\nthere the Rajah\u2019s officers may possibly obtain some aid; but even under\nthese favorable conditions, the information is reluctantly given,\nunless the hope is held out of a participation in the punishment or the\nretaliation.\n\nIn such circumstances, it is remarkable and redounds greatly to the\nefficiency of the Sarawak government, that exceedingly few murderers\nescape detection and punishment, even should it take years to trace them.\nThe punishment is not always a death sentence; it may be a heavy fine.\nThe veneration with which the practice of head-hunting is regarded by the\ntribes of the central high-lands, and the fact that they have been taught\nby their fathers and grandfathers that it is a religious duty, cannot but\ninfluence the Rajah and his Residents to incline to leniency in their\njudicial sentences on these people whenever there has been provocation,\nalbeit slight, for the commission of the deed. Where a whole household of\nmore than a hundred men has made an unprovoked raid upon an unsuspecting\nneighbor, the Rajah, on several occasions, has wisely allowed the injured\ntribe to make, as a kind of \u2018wild justice,\u2019 a retaliating raid upon the\naggressors; but the expedition has been always under the direction of one\nof his Residents, who makes sure that only the guilty are attacked,\u2014if\nunrestrained, the natives would be driven by excitement to kill all who\ncross their path, whether friend or foe.\n\nTo resume the story of the troublous times on the Baram. It was\ndecided by the Government to quiet the disturbances at the very outset\nby administering a severe lesson to those turbulent natives on the\nTinjar who still resented the legal slaying of the murderer, Tinggi;\naccordingly, a war expedition was planned, which should be the means of\nintimidating the seditious tribe, without, it was ardently hoped, the\nshedding of any blood, and, withal, of such an imposing character that\nthe mere demonstration might, of itself, lead even to a lasting peace.\n\n[Illustration: COUNCIL OF WAR, DURING A MARCH TO THE HOUSE OF AN\nENEMY.]\n\nDr. Hose decided, first of all, to investigate the truth of the rumours\nconcerning the marauding Lerons. With this end in view, he decided to set\nout at once for the house of the young Chief, Abun, just mentioned, about\none hundred and twenty miles up the Baram, where, if the rumours proved\ncorrect, his forces could be mustered.\n\nWe arrived after dark at Long Lama (\u2018Long\u2019 meaning the _mouth of a\nriver_, and \u2018Lama\u2019 being the name of a stream at whose junction with the\nBaram Abun\u2019s house is situated). The river\u2019s bank, sloping gradually in\nlow, irregular terraces of sandy mud up to the house, about a hundred\nand fifty yards from the shore, was dotted in all directions with\nlittle fires, whereon the natives were cooking venison. A deer had been\nkilled in the clearings, and, although the flesh is one of the greatest\nof delicacies, it must never be cooked in the house; the timidity of\nthe deer will be infused into the household. By inhaling its spirit,\nliberated by fire, young men assimilate its timidity and become cowards\nin battle,\u2014therefore the flesh is cooked in the open air, and the\ntimid spirit at once makes its way again to the jungle. Several of the\nnatives, when they recognized us, deserted their flesh-pots and came\ndown to meet us, carrying fire-brands, which they waved vigorously to\nkeep them blazing and give us light. Of course, all knew that a visit\nfrom the Resident meant something of importance, but, according to Kayan\netiquette, the purpose must not be broached until we were settled in the\nveranda. Escorted by these torch-bearers we picked our way past the fires\nup the soggy, muddy bank, walked warily on the pathway of slippery logs,\nand so to the notched log whereby the veranda is gained.\n\nThe immense long-house, looking on its high, multitudinous piles like\na gigantic centipede, stretched far away to the right and to the left\ninto the darkness under rustling cocoanut palms; mongrel dogs barked and\nyapped round our heels, and from beneath the house snorting pigs rushed\nhither and thither in all directions. The house seemed deserted; the\nrestrictions of mourning had banished all mirth, music, and song; the\nonly signs of life along its whole length were three or four dim fires\nflickering on the clay hearths; hardly a sound was to be heard in it.\nWith as much dignity as can be assumed when crawling on all fours up\nan almost perpendicular, and slippery, and notched pole, we gained the\nveranda, where the young Chief greeted us cordially, and ceremoniously\nconducted us to the clay hearth, the place of honor, in front of his own\ndoor. Fresh wood to replenish the fire was brought, and several small\ntin kerosene lamps, made by Chinese at the Bazaar, and without glass\nchimneys, were placed here and there, on the floor, and on the beams. It\nwas not advisable, even had it been etiquette, to divulge at once the\npurpose of our visit, or even to allude to the Tinjar people; so dropping\ncross-legged about the fire, we accepted the proffered bead-work box of\ncoarse Kayan tobacco and banana-leaf wrappers, and joined the encircling\nand rapidly increasing group, in a social cigarette. The talk drifted\nup-river and down-river, discussing crops of rice and the promise of the\nabundance of rattan, or of gutta, or of camphor yet to be gathered in\nthe jungle. Occasional puffs of hot air were wafted in under the eaves,\nbringing with them the combined scent of the fires on the bank, of mud,\nand of damp chips from the logs which beneath the house were being\nfashioned into canoes. The brief twilight of the tropics was gone, the\nnight was already as black as ink, although it was barely a half hour\nafter sunset, and the insects had not yet begun the incessant din of\ntheir nocturnal medley.\n\nGradually, Dr. Hose led up the conversation to the killing of Tinggi and\nto the retaliation of the Lerons. At once eyes flashed, and every man\nwas eager to set forth his account of the outrages; some asserted that\nwomen and children working in the rice-fields had been murdered; others\nmaintained that certain rattan-cutters had caught sight of a large force\nof Tinjar people, in the jungle close by Long Lama; again, others said\nthat the Tinjar marauders numbered hundreds, while others contended that\nthere were, at most, but a dozen or so. Finally, it turned out that no\none present had actually seen a single enemy, and the substance of the\nstories was so flimsy that the purpose of the expedition threatened to\ncome to naught, when suddenly our ears caught the rhythmical and rapid\nthump of paddles, followed by the grating sound of the beaching of\ncanoes. Flickering torches struggled up the bank toward the house, and,\nas though by telepathy, it flashed upon every one that Juman himself was\nat hand.\n\n[Illustration: A CHIEF AND TWO SLAVES IN WAR COSTUME.\n\nTHE SLAVES ARE MAKING READY THE POISONED DARTS FOR THEIR BLOW-PIPES.\nIN THEIR HAMPERS ARE THE SLEEPING-MATS FOR THE CHIEF AND THEIR COOKING\nPOTS.]\n\nPresently, sure enough, in came the hero of the hour, with fifteen or\ntwenty followers. All took their places amid the squatting group, as\nunconcernedly as if their minds were as free of care, as their bodies\nof clothes. Juman seated himself beside us on the low platform. Again,\nwe had to comply with the inviolable rules of Bornean propriety, and\nconverse on any subject under heaven, save on the sole object of the\nvisit; but this time it did not take so long to beat about the bush.\nAfter a few decorous minutes, Juman, jumping to his feet, poured forth\nto the assembly a harrowing account of the horrid dangers to which his\nhousehold was exposed every hour of the day and night from this crowd\nof skulking, murderous Lerons! He spoke in Kayan, a language of soft,\nlingual, and prolonged vowel sounds, abruptly interspersed with short\ngutturals pronounced far back in the throat; and while relating his\nwrongs he stamped with his bare feet, turning first to this side, then\nto that, wildly waving his arms, snapping his fingers, and emphasising\nthe close of each sentence by shouting \u2018Bahh! bahh!\u2019\u2014a convenient\nexclamation to gain time for ideas; I fear it corresponded to the cough\nwhich afflicts our own after-dinner speakers. The telling point of the\nspeech was that the camp of the enemy had been actually discovered close\nto Juman\u2019s own fields, and, from the way that the jungle had been trodden\ndown, the war-party must be in large numbers; much of the rice had been\nuprooted just as it was beginning to sprout, and many of their banana\ntrees had been wantonly slashed to pieces. There were men here with\nJuman,\u2014he called them forth and bade them tell their stories,\u2014who had\nactually seen the encampment of the enemy, and the hundreds of footprints\non the bank of the stream where they had rested. Juman was clearly an\norator, and swayed at will the emotions of the assembly; volleys of\ngrunts marked approval of his eager words; cigarettes burned quick and\nfast under excited puffing.\n\nWhen Juman dropped on his haunches, there followed an ominous\nsilence,\u2014the hush before a storm. Dr. Hose at once perceived that the\nnative blood was deeply stirred, and that these reports about the\nLerons, who had no right to be in this part of the country at all, were\nprobably correct, and would infallibly lead to an indiscriminate war.\nThe thirst of the people for vengeance must not be absolutely thwarted,\nbut judiciously controlled. Accordingly, he at once addressed them\nvery earnestly, approving of their just indignation, and fearlessly\ntelling them that the reason why their expeditions so often failed was\nbecause they lost so much time in consulting Omen Birds, that the enemy\nhad time to prepare themselves or to decamp. Now was the hour when the\nlives of their wives and children depended upon instant action, and he\nimpressively concluded by saying:\u2014\n\n\u2018This time do not ask advice from birds, get ready to-night at once, and\nwe\u2019ll all start at dawn to-morrow and chase these thieves and cowards\nback to their river! or else many fresh heads will hang in the houses on\nthe Baram! But remember, that though the Government is with you in this\nfight, it makes war on the guilty, and on no one but the guilty. Go,\ntherefore! Send messengers without delay, up-river and down, to summon\nall Kayan fighters to arms! And to be ready to join us to-morrow before\nthe birds wake up!\u2019\n\nFor several seconds every man sat motionless with dilated eyes and open\nmouth, hardly realising the joyful news. Then with one wild shout all\nbounded to their feet, and the whole house from end to end was staring\nwide awake and fairly quivering with life! Canoes were hastily launched\nin the darkness and dispatched up and down the black river, to bear the\nswift news to friendly houses miles away. The slamming of doors was\nincessant, dusty and long unused spears, shields, war-coats, caps, were\neagerly brought from sleeping-rooms into the veranda, for inspection,\nor for repairs, or for fresh decorations. Clay lamps with damar-gum\nsizzling, sputtering, and smoking, were lit everywhere. Crouched about\none lamp was a group of young men warming fresh \u2018Ipoh\u2019 (_arrow poison_),\nand smearing it on the tips of the darts for their blow-pipes. Around\nanother, was gathered a group busily cutting new darts and shaping the\npith butts to fit tightly in the bore of the blow-pipe. Others sharpened\ntheir spears and parangs, rearranging the dangling charms, which they\nsmeared with the blood of chickens, while murmuring exhortations to\nthem to protect the bearer from all harm and help the parang to deal\ndeath at a single blow. All the women, too, and the girls, joined in\nthe hurry-scurry, and stitched, on the backs of war-coats, horn-bill\nfeathers, or big butterflies embroidered in black and yellow beads. Many\na love-knot was tied, that night, and fastened on parang, war-coat, and\nshield, and I am quite sure that some young hearts beat high with hopes\nof presenting, as the fairest of bridal gifts, what no female Kayan heart\ncould possibly resist,\u2014a lovely, fresh, human head. But, perhaps, I was\ntoo sentimental, and imputed romantic aspirations to those dusky breasts\nwhich entertained no such lodgers. For as I sat there passively watching\nthis strange scene, so dramatic and unreal to me, and so earnest and real\nto the actors, I saw a girl with serious mien furtively thrust into a\nyoung warrior\u2019s hand a strip of bead-work of her own making, wherewith to\nornament the scabbard of his parang. I am sorry to say that, so far from\nresponding to any tender sentiment, the young fellow looked decidedly\nsheepish, and not a little puzzled by the gift, and, alas! I could not\ndetect that he even thanked her for it. Half an hour later I saw him\nwandering about, dangling the precious love-token aimlessly in his hand.\nI concluded that she had better throw him over; such ardour as his, never\nleads to where glory waits.\n\n[Illustration: 1. WOODEN FORM ON WHICH THE PITH BUTTS OF THE DARTS USED\nIN A BLOW-PIPE ARE SHAPED. THE PIECE OF PITH IS FASTENED ON THE POINT AT\nTHE END, AND CUT TO THE PROPER CONE SHAPE. THE BASE OF THE CONE IS GAUGED\nBY THE WOODEN FORM, WHICH IS THE EXACT SIZE OF THE BORE OF THE BLOW-PIPE.\n\n2. PALATE WHEREON ARROW POISON IS MIXED.]\n\n[Illustration: KAYAN WAR-COAT OF GOAT\u2019S SKIN.\n\nTHE WARRIOR\u2019S HEAD IS INSERTED THROUGH THE OPENING, AND THE PART\nDECORATED WITH THE FEATHERS OF A HORN-BILL PROTECTS HIS BACK, WHILE THE\nSHORT FLAP, WEIGHTED WITH THE PEARL SHELL, HANGS OVER HIS CHEST. ONLY\nTHOSE WHO HAVE TAKEN HEADS ARE ENTITLED TO WEAR THE HORN-BILL FEATHERS,\nWHICH ARE ALWAYS TRIMMED TO POINTS WHEN USED TO DECORATE WAR-COATS. THE\nPEARL SHELL IS PLACED UPON THE COAT BECAUSE FROM THIS SHELL THE SPIRIT\nOF A WARRIOR, SLAIN IN BATTLE, MUST MAKE THE BOAT WHICH IS TO CARRY\nIT ACROSS THE RIVER TO THE HAPPY LAND OF THE DEAD. THE ORNAMENT OF\nBEAD-WORK. SHAPED LIKE A BUTTERFLY, JUST BELOW THE OPENING FOR THE HEAD,\nIS THE FEMININE CONTRIBUTION TOWARD THE DECORATION OF THE WAR-COAT.]\n\nHearing vigorous stamping and loud shouting in the room of the young\nChief, Abun, I entered unbidden. In the middle of the room, which was\nunusually large, stood an old warrior decked out in war-coat and cap, and\nbrandishing a spear in one hand and a shield in the other; around him\nin a circle sat eight or ten young men watching breathlessly his every\nmovement.\n\nIt was difficult to repress a smile at his antics; but the intense\nearnestness and wrapt attention of his pupils were absolute; he was\ninstructing the novices how to lunge, guard, and parry with spear and\nshield. With a shrill shout and a lofty caper he dashed at an imaginary\nfoe, warded off the attack with his shield, and, crouching low behind\nit, gave imaginary crippling jabs with his spear, emitting loud grunts\nthe while, and hopping from right to left at each thrust; these thrusts\nwere evidently fatal to the phantom foe, for, dropping his spear, the\nhoary instructor drew his parang, and with one chop, followed by sawing,\nsevered an imaginary head from its body. His final explosive grunt,\nexpressed as plain as words: \u2018There it is! off at last! simple as kiss\nyour hand!\u2019 Again, he backed and sidled to show the motions when an enemy\nattacks in the rear; or, again, he showed how to creep stealthily, and at\nthe same time to keep the body thoroughly covered by the shield, which,\nconsidering that this protecting article is four feet long by eighteen\ninches wide, cannot be called a difficult problem. Of course, the\nenemy was always stupid and completely deceived by the baldest feints,\nand inevitably fell an easy prey. But the open-eyed and open-mouthed\nyoungsters drank in the instruction in gulps. Their instructor could not\nbe called a handsome old man, his nose was a flattened aquiline, his lips\nthin and pushed far forward like a frog\u2019s; his hands were, of course,\ntattooed, for his knowledge of warfare had been gained in many a battle,\nand his contribution to the household collection of heads was large; his\nhair was cropped short, (probably out of respect for the late Chief,) and\nstood up in gray bristles all over his head; his muscular development,\nhowever, was fine for a man of his years, and his litheness and agility\nwere remarkable.\n\nThe alcove where I sat, watching this military drill, was the sleeping\nplatform of the old widowed mother of the Chief; her mats had been\nalready spread for the night, before this war excitement had begun. She\nsat beside me, speaking earnestly and bravely to her three sons, Abun,\nMadong, and Batu, squatting in front of her, each busily engaged, while\nlistening to her, in selecting from their store the best darts for their\nblow-pipes, and replacing with new butts any old ones which were dry\nor cracked. \u2018Be brave, sons of mine,\u2019 she said, in earnest tones, \u2018and\nremember your father, Oyang Luhat, the bravest of the brave, the friend\nof the Rajah, and one who obeyed every command of the Government. Bring\nback, I implore you, an enemy\u2019s head, that your fearless father\u2019s grave\nmay be honoured with a fragment of it. Obey the orders of the Tuan\nResident; if he forbids you to kill, then come back empty handed rather\nthan disobey the Prenta. If you are killed, of course I shall wail and\nlament for you; but I am old, and shall meet you soon again with your\nfather in Long Jul\u00e1n, where all brave warriors go who die in battle or\nby accident. And you, Batu, [the youngest, about eighteen years old,]\nbe not headstrong, but follow your brothers and take their advice in\neverything.\u2019\n\n[Illustration: A WAR-CANOE, OR A RACING-CANOE, MADE FROM A SINGLE LOG.\n\nIT IS ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY FEET LONG AND HOLDS QUITE EASILY A HUNDRED\nMEN.]\n\nHer words were so simple and direct, and, withal, uttered in that soft,\nflowing language which I had learned to like so well, that, I confess,\nit never entered my mind at the time that her personal appearance was\nfar from prepossessing. I saw in her only a modern instance of the\nSpartan mother, and quite forgot her few and blackened teeth, and her\nslit ear-lobes, enormously elongated by her mourning ear-rings of heavy\nwood. She sat on the floor half leaning back against the wall, with only\na strip of blue cotton cloth (not immaculate) around her waist, and\ncovering as far as the knee her thin, wrinkled, and tattooed legs, while\nshe was addressing her three boys, of whom she was very proud. Her eyes,\ndimmed from age and from the daily glare of the sun, rested first on\none, then on another, but most frequently on the youngest, Batu, whose\nmarriage was to take place as soon as the tattooing on the legs of his\nbride was finished. Evidently her mother\u2019s heart feared lest this high\nprize of his enamoured hopes, coupled with his youth, might spur him\non to hazard more danger than his brothers. The ardour of the hour was\ncontagious, and I saw (honesty bids me acknowledge) nothing unnatural or\nunmotherly in these prayers to her sons to bring home a freshly severed\nhead, to hang in consecrated repose above the domestic hearth or on an\nhonoured father\u2019s grave.\n\nIn the veranda, all the bustle and excitement were continued; fresh\nrecruits kept constantly arriving from neighbouring houses, and from\nrice-clearings, where men often pass the night in small huts. Outside,\nin front of the house, in the granaries for rice, there was also much\ncommotion, the commissariat department must not be overlooked; a good\nstore of rice had to be packed in baskets and bags of a size convenient\nfor handling. In this work, the youngsters could help, and the sturdy\nlittle chaps, infected with the excitement of their elders, forgot sleep,\nand shouted and laughed as they darted here and there, and stumbled in\nthe dark, carrying the baskets down to the canoes at the river\u2019s edge.\n\nLong before the excited stir and confusion had subsided, we were\nstretched out on our mats upon the floor to snatch a few hours of sleep\nbefore dawn; whether or not the natives slept at all is doubtful; when we\nawoke at the first streaks of gray in the east, the bustle of embarking\nwas at its height.\n\nJust as the first red beams of level light came gleaming down the long\nstretch of the river, five of the most energetic canoes swung out from\nthe shore, and a mighty shout went up from their sixty or seventy\npaddlers; the foam and spray dashed and sparkled and glittered from the\npaddles; the thwarts creaked in their rattan bindings as the canoes\nfairly bent and quivered under the powerful strokes. Away they darted\nup-stream racing for the lead, the snow-white feathers in the warriors\u2019\ncaps and on the war-coats, glittered like burnished silver as they\nfluttered and caught the glancing sunlight.\n\nEvery few minutes, canoes from down-stream, filled with warriors in\npanoply, came into view, just touched at the landing, asked a few\nbreathless, excited questions, swerved off, and dashed after the leaders.\nThe women, in a long line, leaned over the railing of the veranda, and,\nlet us hope, \u2018rained influence;\u2019 certain it is that between the puffs of\ntheir cigarettes they broadly smiled encouragement to their lovers and\nhusbands, who (it pains me to add) paid absolutely no attention to them.\nWhen ten or twelve canoes had started off, we followed in our big canoe,\nmanned by Ibans from the Baram Fort, who, though of a different tribe,\nlove fighting as passionately as do the Kayans. Not to be outdone, we\nstarted off with as brave a splash and as vigorous a shout as the best of\nthem, and very soon had caught up with the main body of canoes that were\njust behind those that were the first to break the placid water and catch\nthe full beams of the rising sun.\n\nIndeed, it was a thrilling scene! It was war, savage war, and a war of\nsavages. However it might end, be it bloody or bloodless, now at the\noutset fierce eagerness lit up all faces, and a frenzy for blood had\nmounted to every brain.\n\nAs we rounded a turn of the river we came to a sudden pause. The advance\nguard of five canoes had hauled up to the shore. On a narrow sandy bank\nan excited crowd of warriors were kindling a fire and putting up poles\nand arches of sticks cut along their whole length into curled shavings,\u2014a\nbird of good omen had been seen on the right side! An exhilarating proof\nthat, although the usual rites had been neglected, the blessed birds\nwere, after all, propitious. The fire, an unfailing messenger from man to\nthe omniscient Omen-givers, now announced to the birds that their favour\nwas greatly appreciated. All the maturer men, pre-eminent among them our\nold friend, the whilom instructor in the warlike use of shield and spear,\nevidently also a pronounced and respectable conservative, were overjoyed,\nand danced, and shouted, round the fire before returning to their boats.\nAlthough no such spur was needed, yet unquestionably this favourable omen\nimparted a fierce exultant joy to all, and we started off with redoubled\nzeal.\n\n[Illustration: FIGURE-HEAD OF A LONG WAR-CANOE.\n\nTHE MAN IS AN IBAN OF THE REJANG DISTRICT, NOW SETTLED ON THE BARAM. HIS\nCOAT IS OF NATIVE MANUFACTURE AND DESIGN.]\n\nThe canoes kept fairly close together all day, but as the sun mounted\nhigher and higher, and was at last directly overhead, the paddling became\nsomewhat less vigorous; cumbersome war-coats and caps were placed in\na heap in the centre of each boat. Three or four times we all halted\nand cooled ourselves off by a plunge in the stream, which, now that we\nhad passed the lowlands, ran beautifully clear. Whenever we approached\nfriendly houses, the paddling became furious, the shoutings and cries\nfrom all throats were renewed; to which, as a response, several canoes\nfull of eager warriors would unfailingly push out from shore to join\nus. Then again was the air filled with a wild din of savage whoops and\nhalloos, and thrills of excitement ran from boat to boat.\n\nLate in the afternoon, under the westering sun, we reached Juman\u2019s\nhouse at Bowang Takun; the house is a large one standing at some little\ndistance back from the river and almost hidden under a luxuriant grove of\ncocoanut palms. Why the spot should be called _Onion Lake_, seeing that\nthere are neither onions nor lakes there, is as inexplicable as some of\nthe Bornean conventional tattoo designs. There is a slimy pond, to be\nsure, near the house, which as it is water might suggest a lake, and its\nexceedingly bad odor might supply a reminder of the vegetable.\n\nAs the day\u2019s journey closed at Juman\u2019s house, Juman very naturally\nclaimed the privilege of acting as host to this large party. Furthermore,\nwas he not the indirect,\u2014but most happy cause, of this delightful war?\nWas not its joyous pretext to avenge his wrongs? Surely it was his\npleasant duty then to feed the warriors royally. (And let me say in\nparenthesis that to supply, at a few hours\u2019 notice, food and lodging\nfor four or five hundred men might well task any hospitality save that\nof a Bornean.) Accordingly, his boats had pushed on ahead at the double\nquick, and reached his house several hours before us. When the forty or\nfifty canoes (with an average of at least ten men to a canoe) drew up to\nJuman\u2019s beach, the slaughtering of pigs and fowls was still going on,\nand great troughs full of boiled rice were in preparation. In order not\nto be in the way, the whole army filled in the spare time by bathing in\nthe river, and by washing their chawats, (_waist-cloths_,) which were\nspread out on the pebbly beach, and, until they were dried, the owners\nremained in the water. Before dark, all were summoned to the supper,\nwhich was spread in the veranda for the common folk, and in Juman\u2019s\nown room for the select few. In two rows on the floor down the centre\nof the whole length of Juman\u2019s room, where we dined, were squares of\nbanana leaf, each one piled high with boiled rice, and beside each cover\nstood a little bowl of wood or of coarse china, filled with cubes of\nboiled pork and chicken. Between the rows, about every three feet, were\nlarge wooden bowls heaped with pulverised salted fish; these bowls were\nin common, all hands might dive into them for a savory pinch. As soon\nas all were squatted, some began to fall to at once; whereupon Juman\nshouted the obligatory welcome, \u2018Kuman plahei plahei,\u2019 which, as I have\nsaid, means _eat slowly_. He had no shade of fear that his guests would\nnot eat heartily,\u2014the duration of the meal must be long,\u2014\u2018the linked\nsweetness long drawn out.\u2019 Mrs. Juman and little Miss Juman (I failed to\ncatch their names when I was presented), and several little Jumans were\nubiquitous in their zeal that all should be helped, that every one should\nhave plenty; when this was assured, they sat on one side and helped\nthemselves. It was a remarkably quiet feast, all attention was absorbed\nin disposing of the food with neatness, and, in spite of the injunction\nof Kuman plahei plahei, with dispatch. Considering that all the eating\nwas performed without knife, fork, spoon, or even chop-sticks, the\ncleanliness with which they all ate, brought a blush to our cheeks when\nwe contemplated the quantity of rice scattered about our places when we\nhad finished.\n\nDarkness closed in soon after supper; the men all gathered in groups\nin the veranda. Again and again the stories about the hiding-place of\nthe enemy were rehearsed, and those who had been among the fortunate\ndiscoverers of this hiding-place never lacked an interested party of\nlisteners, who accepted implicitly every embellishment which each\nrepetition brought forth. The plans for the expedition to the clearings\non the following day were discussed, and, in a sort of Council of War, it\nwas finally decided that the whole band should preserve as closed ranks\nas possible, and sedulously use every expedient in the jungle to indicate\nto the foe their formidable numbers. In case the enemy had scattered only\nto reassemble, its scouts would become aware of the perfectly equipped\nand enormous force with which it had to deal. (I mention these details\nto show that this expedition was not a mere armed mob, but that the\nleaders had some inkling of the rudiments of genuine tactics.) Every one\nwas keen for the fight; a protracted peace on the Baram had made the\npeople restless; the heads hanging from the rafters in the houses were\nbecoming exceedingly dusty, and their beneficent virtue was, possibly,\nevaporating.\n\n[Illustration: KELAVIT BOK\u2014A HAIRY SHIELD.\n\nON THE OUTSIDE IS PAINTED A SQUATTING FIGURE, WITH THE ARMS HOOKED UNDER\nTHE BEND OF THE KNEES, AND WITH A LARGE, GRINNING FACE, AND WIDE, STARING\nEYES AND LONG TUSKS. COVERING THE PAINTING ARE ROWS AND TUFTS OF HUMAN\nHAIR, CUT FROM THE HEADS OF SLAIN ENEMIES. ON THE INSIDE OF THE SHIELDS\nARE USUALLY FIGURES OF MEN OR WOMEN; IT IS SAID THAT THE FIGURES OF WOMEN\nARE PAINTED THERE SO THAT THE WARRIOR MAY BE CONSTANTLY REMINDED OF HIS\nWIFE AND FAMILY AT HOME, FOR WHOSE BENEFIT AND HONOUR HE IS STRIVING TO\nBRING BACK A FRESH HEAD. IN THE SHIELD HERE PHOTOGRAPHED, THE PATTERNS\nABOVE AND BELOW THE FIGURES ARE EVIDENTLY DESIGNED FROM THE PECULIAR\nCURVES OF THE BEAK AND HORNY CREST OF THE HORN-BILL, THE WAR-BIRD OF ALL\nTHE TRIBES. THESE DESIGNS ARE ALMOST INVARIABLE IN THE DECORATION OF\nKAYAN SHIELDS.]\n\nBy the time, however, that all the excited rumors of the number of\nthe foe, and of its movements, had been thoroughly sifted, I think I\ncould detect indications that several of the older and cooler headed\nChiefs began to waver in their belief that there would be after all any\ndesperate conflict; possibly even, that this fierce show, with all the\nparaphernalia of war, would in itself prove all-sufficient, and that the\nenemy would be so intimidated that it would make no stand.\n\nAs the evening wore on and the damar lamps burned low with fitful\nsputters, I deserted the Council of War, and joined a group where care\nhad been cast to the winds, and, by tacit consent, the evening before the\nbattle was to be as gay and festive as possible. A youth was playing on\nthe kaluri, and a sharp-featured man of middle age was the bard; he had\na deep bass voice and seemed to be widely recognized as the possessor of\nan endless repertoire of songs,\u2014every song that was called for, be it\nwar-like, be it pastoral, be it of love, or be it of the nursery, he was\nfamiliar with, and at once launched into the solo, while the rest joined\nin the refrain.\n\nI could not follow word for word these Kayan songs, which are often,\nno doubt, quite ancient. The unwritten languages of all the Polynesian\nraces are subject to remarkably rapid modifications; wherefore the songs\nand legends which preserve their original form are very difficult for\nmodern and foreign ears to understand. Juman sat cross-legged next to\nme, and interpreted to me in Malay, from time to time, fragments of\nthe songs; one, I remember, had a very _catchy_ rhythm with a constant\nrefrain \u2018_Tama Poyong kapei paha, Ara wi wi ar\u00e1_.\u2019 According to Juman,\nit was a woful ballad rehearsing the lament of a young girl to her mother\nbecause she had been commanded to marry \u2018Tama Poyong, with the twisted\nleg;\u2019 her plaintive objections to Tama Poyong as a husband, on various\ngrounds, sent Juman and all the rest of the group into such fits of\nlaughter that they could hardly join in the chorus, and, of course, I\nlaughed in sympathy. Another song was of the workers in the fields, and\nthen followed a minute account of the harvest-festival, when women dress\nlike men in nothing but a chawat, and parade about the house in a long\nprocession carrying shield, parang, and spear. The solo singer sat in\nthe centre of the group, and with a smile glanced here and there about\nhim in a half-embarrassed way, keeping time to his song by twirling the\nfree end of his chawat round and round in front of him, and at times, for\nemphasis, whacking it down on his knee. Whenever women were represented\nas speaking, he broke into a high falsetto.\n\nSo the evening wore on till one by one the singers crept away, and soon,\nwrapped in their long, white cotton coverings, were stretched along the\nveranda like a row of corpses in shrouds.\n\nThe next morning the excitement in getting off in the boats that\nthere had been at Long Lama was repeated. Eight or ten more canoes\nfrom up-river joined us just as we set out, making the total number\nof the fleet at least sixty, carrying about six hundred,\u2014truly a very\nformidable army of keen, savage warriors. After ascending the river a\nshort distance, the canoes fell into single file and turned into a narrow\ntributary stream, leading up to the rice-clearings.\n\nOn both sides, trees arched over the stream in a dense canopy; thick with\norchids, ferns, and vines, which sent their blossoms, roots, and tendrils\ndown, in heavy masses, almost sweeping our heads; gorgeous butterflies\nflickered and fluttered in their uncertain flight just above the surface\nof the water or gathered, like flaming jewels, on patches of mud on the\nbanks; hordes of monkeys, aroused by the unusual bustle and turmoil on\nthe river, peered, and chattered, and jeered at us from a safe distance\nabove; while the harsh and deep-toned calls of the horn-bills boomed and\nechoed from the depths of the jungle.\n\n[Illustration: POLING CANOES OVER SWIFT BUT SHALLOW RAPIDS.]\n\nFor several hours we zigzagged up the stream, following the deeper\ncourses where the current ran less swift, under shady, far-reaching\nboughs, whose tips dabbled in the rippling water; gradually the stream\nnarrowed and ran between rocks and pebbled islands. Paddles were\nineffectual against the swift current, and the men halted to cut poles.\nOne by one, the long line of canoes again moved off, the men grunting in\nchorus at each shove of the poles, whose successive movements travelled\nalong the line like the rippling legs of a centipede; the man in the bow\nraises his pole and sweeps it ahead for a fresh hold, then the next man\nbehind, on the opposite side of the boat, does likewise with the same\nmotion, and so down the whole line, each waiting till the man in front\nhas his pole firmly fixed. Then all the twenty together, with a profound\nand mighty grunt, give a shove that sends the boat ahead for fifteen or\ntwenty feet.\n\nBy this time, we had approached so near to the lurking-place of the\nenemy that it was deemed advisable to have scouts sent ahead, especially\nto see that there were no trees on the banks which had been partially\nchopped through and were kept in position only by the vines binding them\nto adjoining trees; a fatal trap for enemies often used by the Borneans.\nWhen the trees are half cut through, it needs but a single blow with a\nparang to sever the vines that hold it and then down it goes crashing on\nthe boats of an enemy, and while the occupants flounder in the water and\nare entangled among broken branches, nothing is easier than to reap an\nabundant and soothing harvest of human heads.\n\nThus we slowly toiled up the shallow water in the crawling canoes, while\nscouts kept abreast in the jungle, cutting a path for themselves in\nthe dense tangle of thorny palms and rattans. Foremost among them were\nAbun, the Chief, and his youthful and ardent brother, Batu. They were\nas alert as hawks, peering everywhere for indications of the earnestly\ndesired foe. Every now and then my eyes were dazzled by flashes from\na diamond-shaped decoration on Abun\u2019s war-cap. When we disembarked at\nnoon I found that this glittering jewel was a tin trade-mark stamped in\nfamiliar letters: \u2018Devoe\u2019s Brilliant Kerosene Oil.\u2019\n\nFor some inexplicable reason, the Borneans never breakfast before\nstarting on any expedition; but, once started, they always seem to\nchoose the most inopportune time for their first meal; just when they\nhave fallen fairly into the swing of paddling or poling, they must needs\nland and build fires for cooking rice. Even war permits no exception\nto this exasperating custom; so at noon the whole fleet pulled up on\na \u2018karangan,\u2019 or pebbly island, where, in fulfillment of the strategy\nplanned the night before, fully a hundred fires were kindled under as\nmany earthen pots, and over a widely extended area. While the rice was\nboiling, some energetic workers constructed a shelter with boughs and\nlarge palm leaves to protect the Chiefs and the \u2018Kalunan putih,\u2019 (_white\nmen_,) from the vertical rays of the sun, which beat down pitilessly in\nthis wide expanse of the stream, where a tributary, almost equal in size,\njoined its broad waters. The smoke drifted hazily and lazily into the\nthick, ever-dripping jungle, and the water swirled over the smooth hidden\nrocks and broke into \u2018unnumbered smiles\u2019 in the flecks of sunshine.\nWar-caps and coats were laid aside, and for an hour there was rest for\nwarriors, filled with peace and rice. It is to be feared that under this\nsoothing influence the pristine enthusiasm which marked the start was\nslightly ebbing; \u2018weary seemed the oar, and weary the wandering fields of\nbarren foam;\u2019 there is no knowing how much longer that hour would have\nlasted. Juman was keeping himself a little in the background, now that\nhis alarming reports were so soon to be tested. Of a sudden the note of\ninstant war was struck by Ma Obat, (_Father of Medicine_,) of most fierce\naspect, but a braggart and at heart a coward; one of his eye-sockets\nwas empty and in the other rolled a bloodshot orb, whose red lids, from\nwhich the lashes had been plucked, were everted. He started up, and, with\na shout to his men to be quick, or they would never reach the enemy,\nbustled down to his boat, slipping his head through his war-coat and\ngirding on his parang, as he went.\n\nThis sudden call broke the spell, and in a moment all were scurrying to\nthe boats, but not before every peg whereon the pots had rested was with\nscrupulous care pulled up, and the embers scattered;\u2014nothing brings worse\nluck to a war-party than the omission of this last duty in breaking camp.\nOne by one the canoes started off again up-stream; sometimes making their\nway with difficulty between boulders, then again gliding swiftly over\nplacid pools, the poles rattling and splashing on the pebbly bottom.\nBefore long, we reached the head of navigation, and here at last were the\nrice-clearings,\u2014the very ground whereon the foe had lately trod. For half\na mile or more on the left bank of the river, the jungle had been cleared\nand the surface burnt, leaving only tall charred stumps of trees. Here\nand there were scattered thatched huts on high poles, where the guardians\nof the fields sleep at night; and all the undulating ground about the\nscraggy charred tree stems, was clothed thick with the lush, translucent\ngreen of sprouting rice.\n\n[Illustration: THE WAR-PARTY HALTED ON A \u2018KARANGAN\u2019 TO COOK BREAKFAST.]\n\nThe path now led up the bed of the stream, here dwindled to a mere brook;\nthe foliage was dense all about us, and all were obliged to advance as\nstealthily as possible. Every face was set, with keen eyes darting in\nevery direction, and every muscle tense. Not an instant but was fraught\nto all with possible death; at any moment might come the sudden sharp\nsting of a poisoned arrow from an invisible, noiseless blow-pipe. No one\npicked his steps,\u2014eyes could not be spared for that. The trembling of a\nleaf might mean a fatal wound. It was a thrilling, impressive hour. I\nsuppose my heart would have beat quicker, had I not had a firm conviction\nthat the victims of the unerring blow-pipe would be natives, not white\nmen. Once I looked over my shoulder, and smiled at Abun just behind me,\nwith the repouss\u00e9 legend \u2018Devoe\u2019s oil\u2019 glittering on his cap. He did\nnot return the smile, but gravely shook his head, in deprecation of all\nlightmindedness in such a fateful time. Suddenly there was a commotion\nin the advance guard, loud cries and vehement talking. Then a quick\nmovement forward. I thought we had actually encountered the enemy, but\njust as suddenly every man came to a halt and spears were grounded. Our\nforemost scouts had come upon the camping-ground of the wily Lerons; a\ncapacious shelter of interlacing shrubs and overspread with large leaves\nhad been discovered; the earth was blackened and deep with the ashes from\ntheir fires; round about, we found the jungle beaten down, and while\nwe were closely examining these recent traces, one of our scouts came\nback in great excitement to lead us to the edge of the clearing, where\na treacherous ambush had been made, whence a watch could be kept on the\nlabourers in the rice-fields and a sudden onslaught made upon any unwary\nwomen or unarmed men.\n\nThe last doubt was now dispelled. Intruders with evil intent had\nbeen skulking in the neighborhood, in considerable numbers, and very\nrecently,\u2014but whither had they fled? Possibly, they were in hiding,\nawaiting a favorable chance to attack, or else, after we had given up the\npursuit, to return to their deserted ambush.\n\nThe little army, gathered on the banks and in the dry bed of the\nstream, waited patiently until the scouts had returned from fruitlessly\nsearching the jungle far and wide. Then a council of war was convened\nupon the karangan. It was of no use to advance further unless to attack\nsome household on the Tinjar;\u2014this was not advisable; no one knew\nwith certainty from whose house these hostile intruders had come, and\nindiscriminate vengeance was out of the question where the Prenta was in\nthe lead.\n\nIt was futile to attempt pursuit. The enemy was equipped for land travel,\nwhich we were not, and, as they had at least a day\u2019s start, we could\nnot hope to catch up with them. Bitter was the disappointment to all.\nMany vehemently declared that they were willing to go on, without rest\nor food, by night and day, only let them taste the glorious excitement\nof a fight for heads. Ma Obat turned his one seeing but unsightly\neye on Dr. Hose, and boldly said, (unblushingly of course, and in a\nvainglorious tone,) \u2018If the Tuan will let me go with only a few of my\nmen, I promise I\u2019ll bring back heads; if I don\u2019t find these Lerons I\nknow where to find some Ivans [thus pronounced by Kayans] collecting\ngutta and rattans.\u2019 After this display of courage in killing unarmed\nvictims, and of obedience to the Government, he assumed an expression\nof great ferocity, and rolled his cyclopean eye round the circle to\nnote the effect of his words. To any one who knew how untutored, how\nundisciplined, how childlike are the minds of these savages, it could\nhardly have been discouraging, certainly not surprising, to see how many\nwere the nods of approval which followed this treasonable speech; the\nzealous old \u2018fencing-master\u2019 was, as might be expected, decidedly on Ma\nObat\u2019s side, and a grizzled old warrior, who, during the discussion, had\nseized the opportunity of cooling himself off in a pool directly in view\nof the assembly, cried out, waving his arms and lying flat on his back\nin the water, \u2018That\u2019s the talk! that\u2019s right! I\u2019ll go with Ma Obat! and\nwe\u2019ll kill any one we meet, Ivan, Leron, Punan! any one is better than\nno one.\u2019\n\n[Illustration: PARTY OF ARMED WARRIORS ON A NARROW TRAIL IN THE JUNGLE.]\n\nMa Obat clearly knew his audience. I think he had really voiced the\nuniversal sentiment. Fortunately, the Resident was present, and the\nsupreme head; never for a moment would he allow the possibility of such\nan unbridled expedition to have a lodgement in their minds. He turned to\nAbun, who had more men under his command than any other Chief, and to him\nput the question whether he would be willing to lead an expedition into\nthe country of the Lerons, and solemnly promise that none but Leron men\nshould be killed. The young fellow had a hard struggle; ardently as he\nlonged to approve his lately inherited Chiefship by leading a head-hunt,\nand piously as he desired to honour his father\u2019s grave with a fresh\nhead, he knew the heavy fines the Government would impose on his House\nif innocent people were killed, and he distrusted the precipitate temper\nof his followers. All eyes were fixed on him as, for several seconds, he\nsat silent, gazing intently at a little pile of pebbles he was pushing\nup with his widespread toes. Then without lifting his eyes he almost\nwhispered to the Resident, \u2018Tuan, I cannot promise so much for my men.\nEvery one of them has known me as a mere boy. Although they follow me for\nmy father\u2019s sake, I cannot promise they will do as I command when we get\nin sight of any dweller on the Tinjar, armed or unarmed. No, I cannot\nlead the expedition and keep this promise.\u2019\n\nAt this reply, a grunt of unmistakable disapproval was emitted by\nthe whole circle, and, to prevent at once any more insubordinate\noffers like Ma Obat\u2019s, Dr. Hose immediately ended all discussion by a\ndiplomatic speech, delivered after their fashion with great emphasis, and\nbrought them all round (mere children as they are) to believe that the\nexpedition had been a brilliant, absolute success. Was it not manifest\nthat the enemy had scattered, and fled in wild disorder before them?\nHad not the real object of the war been gained? Were they not glorious\nconquerors, every one of them, since all danger to women and children\nhad been removed? What hostile Leron would now dare to lurk about the\nrice-clearings, after he had noted the traces of this resolute army of\ninvincible warriors? The only thing to do now was to start an enormous\npeace expedition into the Tinjar country, and put an end, once for all,\nto the present feuds by the payment and collection of \u2018Usut\u2019 [indemnity]\nand by the performance of \u2018Jawa\u2019 [a sham battle].\n\nThe speech was greeted with a shout as triumphant as if they saw the\nbacks of their enemy disappearing before them; they sprang to their\nfeet, and spears, shields, and parangs clattered, and plumes waved, and\nso clearly were they victors, that, in imagination, each warrior had a\nfoeman\u2019s head dangling at his belt.\n\nOne and all turned to retrace their steps. Where but an hour before,\nin strained silence, we had crept stealthily, now, that all danger of\na lurking foe was dispelled, we scrambled along, laughing, shouting,\nclattering iron-shod spears on the stones, and hurrying to be first at\nthe boats. Abun, Madong, and Batu did not share in this exultant mood;\nthey alone seemed down-hearted; they and their household must continue to\nendure the burdensome restrictions of mourning.\n\nIt was during this straggling march that the \u2018fencing-master,\u2019 who\nwas, it appears, a Past-Master in knowledge of all rites and usages\nof war, and his word law, announced that in a case like the present,\nwhere a war-party had failed to bring home a head because the enemy had\nscattered, it was quite in accordance with time-honoured, head-hunting\ncustom to borrow a head; the benign influence, from a relic thus\nrejuvenated by posing as a head freshly taken, would then be diffused\nin its adopted home. This announcement amazingly heartened the young\nbrothers.\n\nWe now shot in a few hours through rapids and over rocks, where, on our\nway up, we had toiled almost all day long. As the sun slowly declined,\nthe faster we raced, helter-skelter; spray was flying, paddles thumping,\nthe canoes, creaking and grinding over the rocks, dashed together in a\nmad race to be the first to reach Juman\u2019s house and proclaim the glorious\nnews that we had put the enemy to flight. The canoe wherein I sat, was\none of the earliest to reach Bowang Takun, and I could, therefore, count\nthe canoes as they came darting through the dense leafy arch where the\nsmaller stream entered the Baram. There were in all sixty by the count.\nNo sooner were they drawn up on the sloping bank, than their occupants,\nnumbering at least six hundred, were one and all, dashing and splashing\nin the water. [Indeed, it might be almost asserted that the Kayans and\nKenyahs live as much in the water as out of it. Although they may have\nbeen wading alongside of their canoes all day, yet there is never a halt\nof even a few minutes that they do not divest themselves of their one\ngarment and at least extend themselves in the water, if it is not deep\nenough for swimming. It would be as monstrous for a Kayan boy not to know\nhow to swim as for a white boy not to know how to run.]\n\n[Illustration: A STEALTHY APPROACH TO THE HOUSE OF AN ENEMY.]\n\nAfter the restful bath and the cooking of the evening meal, on the\nbank,\u2014this time we were not Juman\u2019s guests,\u2014the expedition began to\ndisband. Those who lived only a short distance up or down the river\nheaped their cumbersome accoutrements in their canoes and glided off into\nthe darkness.\n\nAbun\u2019s party had a pious duty to perform; accordingly, we spent the\nnight at Bowang Takun, where Abun was going to borrow the head. The loan\nwas transacted with minutest care; the head was reverently lifted from\nits resting-place by a very old man, whose remnant of days on earth was\nnearly spent, and who, therefore, shrank less, than a younger man would\nshrink, from a touch which is sure to be followed by speedy death. From\nthe moment that the skull was touched a deep solemnity fell on all. No\nlaugh, no jest, no light word broke the reverence of what all felt to be\na holy act. The skull was carefully swathed in palm leaves and tied under\nthe bow of Abun\u2019s boat, so that it just grazed the water.\n\nEarly on the following morning we all set out for Long Lama, Abun\u2019s boat\nin the lead, and without stopping all that day we drifted silently down\nwith the slow current under a scorching sun. Abun\u2019s canoe and one or two\nothers pushed on a little faster than the rest, and when at about five\no\u2019clock in the afternoon we were distant from Long Lama only one turn\nof the river, we found that they had there disembarked, and had already\nprepared a wonderfully decorated and elaborate camp; there the whole\nparty must remain for the night, and not be even seen by any member of\nAbun\u2019s household till dawn of the next day. All around the tent-like\nshelter of palm leaves were horizontal poles resting on forked sticks,\nwhereon were hung the war-coats and caps, and the almost solid wall,\nthereby made, was completed by the shields, which were leaned against\nit to fill in any gaps. Spear-points glittered everywhere, and in front\nof this hut, or shelter, there was reared an archway of sticks, whereof\nthe bark had been cut up in curled frills along the whole length.[9] Down\nnear the edge of the water was a pile of green bamboo joints decorated\nwith bands of plaited palm leaf; in these the rice must be cooked,\nand not in earthen pots,\u2014possibly an instance of the tendency in all\nceremonial rites to return to the most primitive methods.[10]\n\n[In the accompanying photograph, Madong, the second son, is the\nwell-built young fellow in the foreground; next to him is a young warrior\nwhose name, I think, is Jok; then comes Abun, the Chief, with one hand\nresting on his shield; immediately on his left is Batu, the youngest son;\nand in front of him the elderly man, with close-cropped hair and upturned\nface, is the \u2018fencing-master.\u2019 At his feet is the pile of bamboo joints,\nand near them several hampers containing rolls of palm-leaf matting,\nwhereon the natives sleep. In the background are the rows of war-coats\nand shields. I was at a disadvantage in taking this photograph; the light\nfrom the last rays of the setting sun was poor, and the support for my\ncamera was an unstable sand-bank.]\n\nThe taboo against visiting the house did not extend to Dr. Hose and\nmyself, nor to Dr. Hose\u2019s Iban crew; none of us belonged to the\nhousehold; so we left the Kayans at their sacred encampment, and were\nsoon settled for the night amid all the comforts the house of Abun could\nafford.\n\n[Illustration: THE RETURN FROM A HEAD-HUNT.\n\nTHE CAMP OF ABUN\u2019S FOLLOWERS ON THE EVENING BEFORE THE RETURN TO THEIR\nHOUSE WITH THE BORROWED HEAD, WHICH WAS TO REMOVE THE RESTRICTIONS\nIMPOSED BY THE MOURNING FOR A DEAD CHIEF.]\n\nAt the very first faint glimmer of dawn I was awakened by an unusual\nstir throughout the house. The women and children and the few men who\nwere so unfortunate as to have been obliged to remain behind, were all\ncollecting along the edge of the veranda below the eaves, whence they\ncould get a view of the river. Just at the very instant that the sun\nsent its first shaft of level light down the long expanse of river we\nheard coming from up-stream, a solemn, low, deep-toned chant, or rather\nhumming, in harmony. There were no articulate words, only a continuous\nsound, in different keys, from treble to bass, of the double vowel _oo_,\nas in _boom_. A minute later the long line of canoes, lashed three\nabreast, slowly rounded the turn, and drifted toward the house. The\nmen were all standing erect on the thwarts arrayed in all their many\ncoloured war-clothes, with bands of plaited palm leaves around their\nknees and elbows and also on every spear and paddle. Only a few were\nat the paddles, merely enough to steer the procession, while all the\nothers stood as motionless as statues, holding their spears upright and\nthe point of their shields resting at their feet. On and on they slowly\nglided, propelled, it almost seemed, by this inexpressibly solemn dirge,\nwhich was wafting this sacred skull to a home it must for ever bless. The\nbrilliant colours of the war-coats flashed brighter every minute as the\nsun rose higher, and lit up the framework of the wondrous pageant;\u2014the\ncloudless blue sky over-head, the myriad spangled ripples of the\nglistening river beneath the dark masses of heavy foliage, suggesting,\nyet hiding, the ever-mysterious jungle, the hushed, awe-stricken group\nof women and children, awaiting the warriors\u2019 return, and over all, the\nsilence of earth and sky, broken only by the modulated cadences of that\nimpressive harmony. On, on, they glided until the three foremost canoes\ntouched the bank; then Abun alighted and unloosed the skull, still in its\ncoverings of palm leaves, from the bow of his boat. In order to watch the\nceremony more narrowly, I left the veranda as the boats neared the beach,\nand I shall not soon forget Abun\u2019s solemn, absorbed demeanour. I could\nnot catch his eye, and, unlike his usual self, he took not the smallest\nnotice of my presence, nor did any of the others. Every face wore the\nwrapt expression of a profoundly religious rite. Without intermitting\nthe chant, Abun, bearing the skull, led the procession in single file to\nthe up-river end of the house. [The skull was now representing a freshly\ntaken head, and there was no longer any danger to those who touched\nit.] When they were all gathered, still chanting, in a close group, the\nold \u2018fencing-master\u2019 stepped out to the front with a blow-pipe, and,\nlooking in the direction of the Tinjar River (still chanting), addressed\na vehement warning to the enemy, and then (still chanting) raised the\nblow-pipe to his lips, and blew a dart high in the air to carry the\nmessage to them. The chanting instantly ceased, and all gave a wild,\nexultant shout! The skull was placed upon the ground and its wrappings\nbroken, and on four stakes near by were placed the bleeding fragments of\na chicken which the \u2018fencing-master\u2019 had torn apart as if it were a piece\nof paper. Each warrior, in turn, then advanced and gravely brandished\nhis parang over the skull, and, walking past the four stakes, smeared\nthe blood of the chicken on his knees, and addressed the spirit of the\nfowl in a prayer to \u2018protect him from all dangers, to impart strength and\ncourage, and drive out all pains and stiffness from his bones.\u2019 After\nthey had passed the last stake they gave a loud, shrill shout, leaped\nhigh in the air, and ran quickly up the notched log into the house.\n\nBy this ceremony each one cast off the taboo of mourning. When all\nthose who had actually been on the expedition had performed it, then\nfollowed those who had been obliged to remain at home; and after them,\nthe small boys, even those who were scarcely able to walk. Everyone,\nwithout exception, must be adorned with bands of palm-leaf strips bound\nround their knees and elbows, and must be dressed in war-clothes. The\nsmall boys, however, wore only war-caps, not decorated with horn-bill\nfeathers, but with the skull of a horn-bill, or the long feathers of the\nArgus pheasant. Those who were too tiny to hold a parang were carried by\ntheir fathers, and their little hands were guided while a feeble stroke\nwas made at the head. Between their little lips several grains of rice,\nboiled in a bamboo joint, were then put, to symbolize that they too had\nbeen in a warriors\u2019 camp and partaken of warriors\u2019 fare. Then they were\ncarried past the stakes, and smeared with the blood, while the father\nuttered the prayer for them, and, in place of the leap and manly shout,\ngave a bound in the air, and an explosive exclamation, before carrying\nthem hurriedly up to the veranda.\n\nAs soon as every male inmate of the house, from feeble age to toddling\ninfancy, had performed this rite, in a flash the charm of the taboo\nwas snapt! In a twinkling, every corner in the house seemed turned\ninto a barber\u2019s chair. Ever since the death of Oyang Luhat, the late\nChief, no hair had been trimmed, and long locks, so unsightly to Kayan\neyes, had grown on the temples of the exquisite youths and fastidious\nloungers, who, before the taboo, figured as the \u2018glass of fashion,\u2019\nas they certainly are always the \u2018mould of form.\u2019 Turn and turn about\nthey scraped each other, and when the operation was finished, (which,\njudging from the character of the knives, must have been a fine lesson\nin the endurance of agony,) each one carefully gathered up the hair,\nand, rolling it in a ball, spit vigorously on it, and threw it as far as\nhe could out of the veranda. I imagine this was done with the idea of\npreventing any one from collecting the hair, and thereby working a charm\nagainst the owner; or it may be that spitting upon the hair exorcises any\nevil Spirit lurking in it. I asked many a one why it was done, but the\nonly reply was, \u2018Adat seja\u2019\u2014_merely custom_.\n\n[Illustration: WAR-CAPS OF RATTAN AND SPLIT BAMBOO.]\n\n[In connection with this instance of a possible survival of primitive\nreligion, let me mention that in this remote region I found an example\nof another well-known ancient custom:\u2014wooden images are fashioned in\nthe likeness of an enemy, and placed in the jungle; as the wooden\nrepresentative decays the original sickens and dies.[11] In \u2018The Free\nMuseum of Science and Art,\u2019 in Philadelphia, two of these images are\npreserved. They represent Dr. Hose and Tama Bulan. They were made by\nthe Lerons after the killing of Tinggi, to be revenged on these two\narch-foes. They were discovered by a friendly native and brought to Dr.\nHose, whose image happily shows as yet no sign of decay; from the last\nreports the original also was in excellent health. See next page.]\n\nOf course, it is quite unbefitting for women to go through the rite\nof slashing at the head; they never go on war expeditions. Therefore,\nthey are freed from their mourning by being sprinkled with water dipped\nfrom the river in the palm leaves wherewith the head has been wrapped.\nThereafter they resume their ornaments of bead-work, their ponderous\nbrass ear-rings, and don fillets of gaily coloured cloth.\n\nWhen every member of the household has been freed from the taboo by these\nrites, a fragment of the skull, wrapped in palm leaves, is attached to\na long rope of bamboo twigs, and solemnly carried to the grave of the\nChief, which, in the present case, was about half a mile down-stream.\nIn the path which the sons and near relatives have to take to reach the\ngrave, a living chicken, with its legs tied, is placed, and on it each\none, in passing, must tread, (the poor fowl does not survive more than\ntwo or three footfalls.) The fragment of skull, lifted on the tip of a\nlong bamboo pole, is hung to the edge of the ornamentation on top of the\ngrave. When this is finished, all that can be possibly done to honour a\ndead Bornean Chief has been performed.\n\n[Illustration: Wooden effigies of Dr. Hose and Tama Bulan, which were\nleft to decay in the jungle, and thereby accomplish the death of the\noriginals. One-half natural size.\n\nI think the one on the left is Dr. Hose.]\n\nAt night, the men who were away in the rice-fields, when the war-party\nreturned, attain their freedom by smearing with the blood of fowls\na little piece of wood cut into a brush of fine strips at one end;\nthis brush they fasten on the side of one of their large basket-work\nfish-traps, placed on the floor of the veranda, and against this\nensanguined brush they rub their knees, before uttering their prayer and\ngiving the shout and the leap which the warriors gave outside the house.\nThe fish-trap, on this occasion, they call their _Father_; \u2018it catches\neverything it sees, and is afraid of nothing.\u2019\n\n[Illustration: GRAVE OF OYONG LUHAT, THE FORMER CHIEF AT LONG LAMA.\n\nA PIECE OF THE SKULL BORROWED TO TAKE THE PLACE OF A FRESHLY TAKEN HEAD\nHAS BEEN PLACED ON THE FLAT ROOF ABOVE THE COFFIN, AND THE LONG STREAMER\nOF SHREDDED PALM LEAVES ATTACHED TO THIS HALLOWED FRAGMENT OF SKULL\nSTILL HANGS FROM THE TOP OF THE GRAVE. THE BODY OF THE CHIEF RESTS IN A\nCOFFIN HEWN OUT OF A LOG AND PLACED HORIZONTALLY ACROSS THE TOP OF THE\nHIGH COLUMN. OVER THE COFFIN IS FASTENED A LARGE, SQUARE SLAB OF WOOD,\nCUT FROM A FLAT BUTTRESS ROOT OF A TAPANG TREE. THE STICKS PROJECTING\nFROM THE SQUARE TOP OF THE GRAVE ARE STRUNG WITH CIGARETTES, WHICH CARRY\nMESSAGES FROM THOSE WHO MADE THEM TO FRIENDS AND RELATIVES IN THE NEXT\nWORLD.]\n\nAll hours of the next day are devoted to a promiscuous slaughter of\npigs and chickens, and to the preparation of a great feast; every one\ncontributes a pig or a fowl, according to his means; and on every pig\u2019s\nliver the fateful omens must be deciphered. At intervals, along the\nwhole length of the interminable veranda, are little enclosures wherein\nsit the shrewd old Dayongs, whose exhortations, before the slaughter,\nare potent with the pigs to have nice, lucky livers. As each pig, with\nits legs tied, is brought and laid before the Dayong to be exhorted\nand then killed, the owner pays the Dayong a small fee of a few beads,\na strip of cloth, or the blade of a parang; after this preliminary\nfee-giving (a custom, not unknown elsewhere), the owner enters the little\nenclosure, and, seating himself beside a large gong, proceeds to bang\nit with a stick, and make as much din as possible; all the while the\nDayong lectures and exhorts the wretched pig. The owner while beating\nthe gong pays absolutely no attention to the Dayong\u2019s words, which may\nbe possibly etiquette, but is certainly not surprising,\u2014not a syllable\ncould be audible above the deafening squealing, clattering, banging\nresounding on all sides. Very likely the Dayong desires to have his\nplatitudes overheard by no one except by the pig, whose attention to duty\nis every now and then enforced by a vigorous thump in the side from the\nfist, or a dig in the ribs from the thumb of his ghostly exhorter. When\nthe Dayong thinks the auspicious moment has arrived, and that the swine\nhas caught the drift of the exhortation, and has obligingly modified\nthe streakings of his liver, he plunges a knife in the animal\u2019s throat,\ncatches the spouting blood in a bowl, and, before life is extinct, rips\nopen the paunch, and extracts the dripping liver, whereon, in characters\nlegible only to the Dayong, the pig had inscribed an assured knowledge\nof the future. Now and then, an avaricious Dayong will persist in\nreading dreadful portents on the liver; of course, a second pig must be\nbrought, and a second fee paid; and so on until the Dayong is satisfied,\nthen at once the signs become good. On the present occasion eighty-five\npigs and sixty fowls were sacrificed. The young boys who have been on\nthe expedition are made to feel that they are to be numbered among the\nwarriors, by being compelled, on that first evening after their return\nfrom the head-hunt, to cook their own supper of pork and rice, and to\nsleep in the veranda among the grown-up men.\n\nThe pork is cut into small cubes and boiled in bamboo joints; a very\npleasant flavor is thereby imparted to the meat, if you can shut your\neyes very tight to the fingers that prepare it.\n\nAfter the feast was cooked and served in wooden trays and bowls, we\nall squatted here and there about the veranda, and helped ourselves\nto the toothsome delicacies of parboiled pork and chicken, excellent\nboiled rice, pulverized salted fish, and bananas. Then dusty and musty\ncords were cut on many a jar of \u2018Borak,\u2019 or sweetened rice beer, and\nthe festive cup, either half a cocoanut or blue pressed-glass tumbler,\nwas passed from lip to lip. Speeches were made, in which the invincible\nbravery of every warrior was proclaimed, and frightful threats were\nhinted as to the fate of the Lerons, had they not fled like the cowards\nthat they are. Festival songs and war-dances, with kaluri accompaniment,\nfollowed. When the jars of Borak were drained to the dregs, one by one\nthe exhausted warriors crept to bed, saturated with the serene joy of\nduty done, glory gained, and honour paid to their departed Chief.\n\nEven after all these ceremonies and the feast, the house is not utterly\nfree from taboo: for ten days no work may be done in the clearings, nor\nmay the men go for rattans or any jungle product. There is always a\nfoundation of wisdom for these taboos. Thus, to keep the men collected in\nor near the house for a number of days, after a head-hunting raid, is a\nwise provision: the house cannot be surprised unawares by a retaliating\nforce.\n\nThus ended this memorable War Expedition of the Kayans and Kenyahs of the\nBaram against the Lerons of the Tinjar, to vindicate Juman for the legal\nkilling of Tinggi and drive the Lerons back to their own district,\u2014a\ntypical expedition, save alone that the Omen Birds were not consulted,\nand that it did not end in a wild and wanton raid on innocent people.\n\n[Illustration: WAR-COAT AND CAP MADE OF THE SKIN OF A MANIS.]\n\n\n\n\n_\u2018JAWA\u2019 OR PEACE-MAKING_\n\n\nDuring the rainy months, when all work in the fields is suspended, and\nNature herself attends to the rice, every path in the jungle leads idle\nfeet to mischief, and, if war be forbidden by the Prenta, pent-up energy\nmay find a wild outlet in boisterous protestations of peace, provided\nonly that these protestations have at least a suggestion of war.\n\nAfter our war expedition up the Baram just narrated, barely a fortnight\nelapsed before we were organizing a great Peace-making with those very\npeople of the Tinjar who had been our foes. Tama Bulan, Tama Usong, Aban\nDeng, and Juman, the chiefest Chiefs of the Kayans and Kenyahs, with all\ntheir numerous warriors, were eager to join in the Peace-making, and\npledge themselves to the Tinjar people for the friendliness of all the\ndwellers on the Baram and its tributaries.\n\nAccordingly, the Baram Chiefs were summoned to the Fort, and the day\nbefore this great army of peace-makers set out, Dr. Hose invited these\nChiefs and their adherents to a lavish feast at his house. The viands\nwere prepared according to the taste of the guests, and, to make all\nfeel perfectly at home, served on the floor of the veranda; the arrack,\nhowever, was of extra Chinese brew, and, of course, superior and very\nmuch stronger than the diluted, home-brewed liquor to which they were\naccustomed. Consequently, the hilarity and fluency of song and speech,\nupon a liberal and well-laid foundation of boiled pork, chicken, rice,\nand salted fish, was exuberant, but never boisterous. Perhaps the\npresence of so many powerful Chiefs, above all, that of the all-powerful\nResident, had a restraining influence. We all sat down (should I not say,\nsquatted?) at about four in the afternoon, and the last of the guests\ndeparted to their quarters in the Bazaar at about eleven o\u2019clock at\nnight. About fifteen pounds of tobacco were consumed, three good-sized\npigs were stowed away, and the Chinese shop-keepers alone know how many\njars of arrack were unsealed. Tama Bulan and Tama Usong were the last\nto leave the scene of revelry, and we watched (I must admit with great\nrelief) their dusky figures disappear down the path, as, linked arm in\narm, they meandered off in the broad moonlight toward the Bazaar.\n\nJuman, for the second time the important member of an expedition, failed\nto appear, and since it was partly on his account that the trouble\nbetween the people of the two rivers had arisen, the Peace-making\nwould be incomplete without him. In Borneo, after past wrongs, peace\nand good-fellowship cannot be gained by simple asseverations; there\nmust be always a palpable exchange of beads, highly prized jars, brass\ngongs, etc., as an indemnity. The perpetrator of the wrong, or one of\nhis descendants, must be present with his adherents to join in the sham\nfight, known as the \u2018Jawa.\u2019 The canoes of the peace-party were laden\naccordingly with articles for exchange, and with the paraphernalia of the\nmen who were to engage in the sham fight.\n\nAt an early hour on the morning after the feast, we started up-river in\nthe Government\u2019s steam launch, for which the river is navigable for at\nleast sixty miles above the Fort; behind us trailed the long line of\ncanoes with the peace-makers,\u2014a pretty woe-begone, head-achey looking\nlot, after the Chinese arrack of the night before. As the day wore on and\nwe steamed slowly up against the strong current, dodging the ponderous\nlogs that swept past, one by one the Chiefs climbed up from their canoes\nand sat limp and taciturn around us on the small deck of the steamer.\nStill no sign of Juman and his party. We had expected to meet him before\nwe turned off into the Tinjar River. So necessary a personage could not\nbe left behind; therefore, a letter was left for him at the mouth of the\nTinjar. On a large sheet of paper, we painted a picture of a steam boat\nheading up-stream with inky volumes of smoke issuing from the funnel and\na long line of canoes in tow; underneath was a gigantic hand pointing\nup-stream. This letter was fastened in a cleft pole stuck up on the bank;\nthen we steamed at full speed up the large tributary.\n\n[Illustration: A CHARM AGAINST FEVER.\n\nTHE BARRIER AND CHARMS DEVISED BY THE DAYONG TO WARD OFF EVIL SPIRITS\nFROM THE HOUSE OF THE LELAK CLAN, AND TO DRIVE AWAY THE DEMONS WHO WERE\nALREADY AFFLICTING THE HEAD-MAN OF THE HOUSE WITH FEVER AND TRYING TO\nLURE THE SOUL OUT OF HIS BODY.]\n\nA lovely feature peculiar to the Tinjar River is the hills cultivated\nwith rice. On the lower reaches of the Baram, the flat, swampy ground\nextends for a mile or more from the river on both sides. Here, clearings\nextend over low undulating hills, and at this season of the year the rice\nwas already six inches tall, and its tender emerald green was unspeakably\nrefreshing after the dark foliage of the jungle. Twice we passed groups\nof men and women busily weeding the fields; but, poor wretches, as\nif their toil were not enough, they must all needs be clad in heavy\nwar-cloaks; they had heard, so they said, that there was an enormous\nhead-hunting army on the way from the Baram, and they were in hourly\nterror of being attacked and killed. We allayed their fears, and were\ndelighted to learn that the fame of our War Expedition had travelled so\nbravely and had lost nothing in transmission.\n\nEarly in the afternoon we reached the household of the Lelaks, and halted\nfor the night, to allow Juman to catch up with us. The old man of the\nhouse, whose adherents were not numerous enough to entitle him to the\nrank of a \u2018Penghulu,\u2019 and whose wealth was insufficient for the title of\n\u2018Orang Kaya\u2019 (_Rich Man_), merely presided over his household by reason\nof his age, and was known simply as the \u2018Orang Tuah\u2019 (_Old Man_). On our\narrival, we were told that he was almost at death\u2019s door from an attack\nof fever, and that every resource known to Dayong art had been tried in\nvain; evidently, the evil Spirits had resolved to entice his soul away,\nin spite of the elaborate barrier which the Dayongs had professionally\nerected in front of his house.\n\nThis barrier consisted of a circle of stakes cut, at intervals down their\nsides, into curled shavings; in the centre of the circle stood a high,\nsquared pole painted with stripes of red and black; at about four feet\nfrom the ground, and again near its top, were cross-bars piercing it from\nfront to back and from side to side. At its base stood an earthen jar\nfilled with water, and round about outside the circle was a bristling\nthicket or sort of _chevaux de frise_ of posts and stakes cut into\nmanifold fringes of shavings, and several cleft sticks about three feet\nhigh, holding in the cleft an egg. To the Dayongs, these curled shavings\nand cleft sticks have a profound meaning which they either did not know\nor did not wish to divulge. All these prophylactics were, however, in\nvain; the evil Spirits obstinately and perversely refused to depart from\nthe old man. Not being an angel, I pressed fearlessly within this charmed\nground, and even took photographs there in spite of Tama Bulan\u2019s solemn\nwarning. He would not go near the barrier, and in awed tones warned me\nthat just as sure as I touched any of those stakes I would have horrid\ndreams and most assuredly be clutched by a ghost and hideously scarred\nfor life; should the ghost chance to clutch me by the throat, I would\nchoke to death and never wake.[12]\n\nAfter I had taken the photograph, we paid a visit to the old man as he\nlay feverishly tossing and turning on his hard board bed. I administered\nto him a placebo in the form of an assurance that I had skilfully caught\nand imprisoned the evil Spirits in my \u2018box-with-an-eye\u2019 (_my camera_),\nand they would trouble him no more; then, abandoning the \u2018faith cure,\u2019 I\nadministered a generous dose of quinine.\n\nThe Lelaks are an unusually industrious household; they cultivate an\nabundance of rice and keep it stored for rainy days, in granaries which,\nalthough they are far away from their dwellings and hidden in the jungle,\nthey decorate with graceful designs in black paint upon a white ground.\nIn their houses, also, almost every beam-end is carved into barbaric\nfigures of men or of monkeys in twisted positions with arms and legs\ninterlacing; also many of the upright posts supporting the roof have\ncarved in them deep niches to serve as seats.\n\nIn the evening, under the benign effects of a hearty meal of rice and\nfish and of numerous cigarettes, Tama Bulan became jovial, and his broad,\ngenial smile beamed to right and left on all as he sat with his back\nagainst one of the carved house-posts, and proposed that we the guests\nshould be entertained with some of the dances for which the Lelak women\nare famous. Of course, the women were coquettishly shy at first and\nscurried off to their rooms. Tama Bulan was not, however, to be thus put\noff or put down, but appealed to the Orang Tuah to send searching parties\nfor the best dancers. Then he turned to Dr. Hose, and, in a metaphor of\nwhich he was fond, said, chuckling, \u2018Tuan, this fishing doesn\u2019t seem to\nbe very successful; all the good, plump fish have gone up-stream, and\nleft us nothing but these bony ones;\u2019 here he nodded toward some old\nand thin beldames, calling them by the names of the poorer kinds of\nfish which generally are thrown away; but when, a few moments later,\nthree young girls, dressed in their best skirts and with bright-coloured\nfillets round their heads, shuffled coyly out from their rooms ready for\nthe dance, he lit a fresh cigarette and settled back comfortably in his\nseat, saying, \u2018Aha! Here are plump fish worth looking at.\u2019\n\n[Illustration: DECORATED STORE HOUSE FOR RICE.\n\nTHE PLANT GROWING DENSELY AROUND IT, IS WILD TAPIOCA.]\n\nThe dance was like that of almost all of the Malay and allied races, more\nwaving of the arms and swaying of the body than movements of the feet.\nIt was exceedingly like the dances of the Javanese, wherein movements\nof hands and wrists are the chief features. It appeared to be a solemn\nperformance; instead of the fixed, mechanical smile of our ballet\ndancers, there was a stare of constrained solemnity verging on a scowl.\n\nThe effect on the dancers themselves was marked; demure as were their\nmotions, their excitement was great. One of them suddenly ceased and,\nleaning against the wall, declared that she was exhausted with the\nstrain. Although the movements of the dance had been slow and gentle, she\nwas undeniably almost in an ecstatic trance, with eyes half closed and\nbreathing labored.\n\nVery different were the Kayan dances which followed; the men vied with\neach other in wild leaps and shouts, springing high in the air and coming\ndown on their knees, all the while battling with imaginary foes; slashing\nwith their parang and waving their shield in rhythmical time to the drone\nof the kaluri.\n\nOur hand-clapping by way of applause caused great laughter and\nastonishment, and the ever-present small boys imitated it in high glee.\nTheir only fashion of showing approval or wonder is by a loud cluck\nwith the tongue. Once on a time, when we happened to stop at a house\nwhich, during the selection of a rice-field, was under a \u2018lali\u2019 or\n_restriction_, (no stranger may then enter and no inmate leave it,) Dr.\nHiller and myself were urgently requested to pace up and down in front\nof the house, after we had stripped ourselves to the waist, so that the\ninmates might have the privilege of seeing our Japanese tattooing. They\nhad all gathered in a row behind the railing of the veranda, and as we\npassed along below, the succession of explosive clucks of unbounded\nadmiration sounded like musketry in the distance. Eagerness to see\nour tattooing broke down for us many a barrier. Although the Borneans\nthemselves are masters in the art, nevertheless they use but one colour,\nand could not believe that the variegated Japanese designs were not\npainted, instead of pricked in. Many a time this incredulity proved a\nsore trial, by subjecting us to vigorous attempts at rubbing off the\ncolour with a dirty thumb, well moistened on the tongue. Here also at the\nLelak house, at Tama Bulan\u2019s urgent request, I stripped to the waist,\nand the sight of Hori Chiyo\u2019s best handiwork on my back so inspired one\nelderly woman, that, after the chorus of clucks had subsided, she burst\ninto song, which, being in the Lelak dialect, I was unable to understand,\nbut was assured it was extremely complimentary.\n\nThe guest chambers in a Lelak house are boxes about five feet square,\nsuspended from the roof, and to which access can be gained only by a\nladder. Possibly, this is for the comfort of the guest; possibly, it is\nin order that he may not have too much liberty. We preferred, however,\nthe floor of the veranda, but before morning I realized the error; three\ntimes was I awakened by an incubus of a dog curling himself up for sleep\non my chest.\n\nLate in the night, the whole house was aroused by the arrival of Juman\nand his adherents; he had read our letter and made the best time he could\nagainst the strong current. The expedition was now complete, and the\nfollowing morning we abandoned the steamer and started off in canoes.\n\nThe Orang Tuah of the Lelaks maintained that my box-with-one-eye was\nbetter than all the Dayongs, and that of a surety I had effectively\ncaptured the evil Spirits; he was so much better that he insisted on\ngoing along with us. I must acknowledge I was none too well pleased with\nhis determination; he was exceedingly feeble, and should he die the blame\nwould be surely imputed to me.\n\nContinuously along our route the numbers of the peace-makers were\naugmented by boat-loads from the houses that we passed, all anxious to\njoin in the feasting which took place wherever we halted, and all wanted\nto be present at the final grand ratification in the house of Tama Aping\nBuling at the head-waters, where Kilup and Juman, bitter enemies, were\nto meet, and be reconciled.\n\nLate in the afternoon during a terrific thunder-storm, we arrived at Tama\nLiri\u2019s house, and although he is a Penghulu of importance, his house is\na disgrace and he himself a troublesome thorn to the Sarawak Government.\nIn the first place, there was no notched log whereby to cross the wide\nstretch of muddy bank; to get to the house we should have been compelled\nto wade through mud knee-deep, had not the Kayans and Kenyahs in our\nparty devoted themselves energetically to showing the Berawans what\ncould be done in the way of rapid work. In pelting sheets of rain and\ndeafening peals of thunder they dragged forth a great fallen tree-trunk\nand cut notches in it. The Chief and his people, meanwhile, who ought\nto have been helping, sat at their ease up in the house and looked down\nunconcernedly. In the second place, Tama Liri\u2019s house is built upon\nsuch ramshackle poles that they could not support the weight of boards,\nand, consequently, the flooring is of bamboo strips, and in places so\nweak that all were afraid that the whole flimsy structure would tumble\nabout their ears. The Baram folk were by no means in a good temper when\nat last they gained the shelter of Tama Liri\u2019s veranda. In the evening\nall the Chiefs took a malicious pleasure in telling their host what a\nmiserable shanty he had instead of a house, and expressing the hope that\nby the time they revisited him he would have built a new one. In the\nmidst of these vivacious observations, which did not seem, in the least,\nto disturb our stolid host, Tama Usong begged me to lend him my box of\nmatches; on receiving it he passed it over to Tama Liri with the suave\nremark, \u2018Here, Blood-brother, are some posts for your house; they are\nbetter than those you have, and you can buy more in the Bazaar, very\ncheap.\u2019 All the Baram people, and even some of Tama Liri\u2019s own followers,\nsnorted and laughed at this stroke of wit, but the host adroitly diverted\ntheir thoughts by instantly expatiating on the pig, six spans long! which\nAban Liah (not he himself, but his neighbor Aban Liah) was going to kill\nfor the feast when we arrived at his house. Tama Liri added that it would\nhave been better, of course, if it were eight spans long; this would have\nbeen the kind _he_ would kill were _he_ giving a feast. Tama Bulan was\nnot in as good spirits as on the preceding evening. He was depressed by\nthe illness of his nephew, Wan, who had been ailing ever since reaching\nthe Baram Fort, and now, from exposure in the heavy rain during an attack\nof fever, was in the first stage of pneumonia and verging on delirium.\nTama Bulan begged me to give him some medicine; but remembering the\ndisagreeable time that I had in his own house, in consequence of the\ndeath of an inmate, I demurred, preferring to shift the responsibility on\nthe Dayongs and the livers of pigs and entrails of chickens.\n\nTama Bulan assured me, however, that he had absolute confidence in my\nmedicine, and always had, even at the time of Lueng\u2019s death, when her\nbrother, who thought we had poisoned her, wanted to kill Dr. Hiller and\nmyself. \u2018Besides,\u2019 he added, \u2018it will be so inconvenient to have Wan\ndie in the house of Tama Liri; of all men, he will be the very one to\ndemand immense compensation for the ill-luck brought on his miserable\nold house.\u2019 Thereupon, I did all in my power for the boy; but in the\nmorning, when the time came to leave, he was only a very little better,\nand it would have been highly dangerous to move him down to the boats.\nWith great regret we were obliged to leave behind the dear old Kenyah\nChief to take care of his good-for-nothing nephew. We had depended upon\nTama Bulan to make the peace-ceremonies go off smoothly, and in strict\nadherence to Borneo customs. Wan\u2019s father, a half-brother of Tama Bulan,\nwas continually making trouble between the Kenyahs and the Sarawak\nGovernment, until Dr. Hose one day obtained possession of an invaluable\ncharm of his, consisting of a small misshapen hen\u2019s egg, whereon he based\nall his good luck. Only by the ever-present threat that his egg would be\nbroken by Dr. Hose at the least sign of treason on his part, can he be\ncontrolled and kept peaceable, even, I believe, to this hour. Owing to\nthe sins of the father, I was not quite so compassionate as I might have\nbeen, for this handsome but arrogant youth, who was now the cause of our\nlosing the assistance of Tama Bulan. I left my watch with the dutiful\nold uncle, and exact diagrams of the positions of its hands when the\nmedicines were to be given. Our next stage was to be but a short one: if\nWan were better on the following day, Tama Bulan could catch up with us;\nif he were worse, my advice was that he should be moved to the boats\ncarefully and an attempt made to get him home. Tama Bulan said he would\nmuch rather have him die in the canoe than in Tama Liri\u2019s house. Judging\nby the general lack of recuperative power in the Borneo people when they\nare seriously ill, and by the small probability that my instructions\nwould be strictly obeyed, I thought Wan was doomed, and so expressed\nmyself to Tama Bulan, with the hope, at the same time, that the medicine\nwould be efficacious.\n\n[Illustration: RIVER BANK IN FRONT OF A LONG-HOUSE.]\n\nJoined by Tama Liri and a number of his adherents, we set out for\nthe house of Aban Avit; Tama Bulan dolefully and regretfully bade us\ngood-bye, wishing us \u2018Salamat jalan\u2019\u2014_a lucky journey_.\n\nAban Avit, also a Berawan, proved to be as much a credit to the tribe as\nTama Liri is a disgrace; his house is strongly built, well floored, well\nroofed with iron-wood shingles, decorated here and there with carvings,\nand, around doors and along partition walls, ornamented with borders of\nloops and circles and dots painted in black and white by the Chief\u2019s own\nhand. (Elsewhere I have described the house with some minuteness.)\n\nNo longer under Tama Bulan\u2019s influence, the other Kayan Chiefs began to\nbehave in a foolish and stubborn manner.\n\nTama Usong flatly refused to come up to the house because he disliked\nAban Avit, and sulked in his boat on the other side of the river,\npreferring to endure torrents of rain at night rather than forget old\nscores until the very hour of the grand ratification of peace and amity\nat Tama Aping Buling\u2019s. His absence, however, was not felt; the house\nwas full of strangers; an old, sad-faced Chief, named Laki Jok Orong,\nhad arrived only the day before, from the Rejang, and was on his way to\nthe Baram, whither he was escorting a middle-aged woman who three years\npreviously had been abducted from her home, and ever since held captive\nin a Rejang River house. Curiously enough, Dr. K\u00fckenthal, on a visit\nto the lower Baram, had happened to photograph this very woman before\nher abduction,[13] and had sent a copy of the portrait to her family.\nHaving discovered the house wherein the woman was detained, some of her\nfriends set out to obtain her release. By means of this photograph,\nwhich they took with them, they were enabled to establish her identity\nbeyond dispute, and brought her away. The features in the photograph\nwere still recognisable, even under a thick coating of finger-marks. The\nwoman herself now had possession of it, and, proudly unwrapping it from\nits many coverings of dirty cotton cloth and dried palm leaves, passed it\nround the circle.\n\nLaki Jok Orong had a sad tale to tell of the oppression of his people\nby one Owang Taha, a half-breed Malay, and a sub-Resident for the\nGovernment, in the upper Rejang River. When he once got fairly started,\nhe kept up the screed in a whining, lugubrious monotone that droned on\nand on till his audience, by desertions and by new arrivals, was changed\nseveral times, and at last engaged in general conversation; but none\nthe less, the droning plaint of the Rejang Chief still went on and on.\nThe seven or eight long, straggling hairs which he suffered to grow on\nhis lip, above the right corner of his mouth waggled and waved, and in\nhis ears the ornaments, carved out of a horn-bill\u2019s crest to represent\ntiger-cat\u2019s teeth, alternately pointed up and down as he dolefully shook\nhis head over the never-ending rehearsal of his wrongs. I retired to my\ndark-tent, developed a dozen or more negatives, packed away all my trays\nand chemicals, and then when I rejoined the circle around the fire in the\nveranda, still from the outer edge of darkness quavered Jok Orong\u2019s voice\nas persistent as ever,\u2014and as unheeded.\n\n[Illustration: SOME CANOES OF THE PEACE-PARTY IN A QUIET REACH BETWEEN\nRAPIDS.]\n\nEarly in the next forenoon, Tama Bulan and six of his best paddlers came\nswiftly up-stream to tell us that Wan was much better, but that they\nhad decided to take him home with all speed. Of course, that Tama Bulan\nshould turn round and immediately go back to Tama Liri\u2019s was not for a\nmoment to be thought of, and, although it was early in the day, jars of\narrack were brought out, and the sullen Tama Usong and Juman, persuaded\nthereto by Tama Bulan, joined us in the veranda, and the unwearied Laki\nJok Orong seized a fresh opportunity to indulge in the luxury of woe, and\nto begin, and continue the recital of innumerable wrongs. The etiquette\nin drinking toasts is the reverse of ours; with us, he who is toasted\nremains seated, generally with a sickly, self-conscious smile, while\nall the others rise and drink to him. In Borneo, however, the toast is\nthe only one who rises and is the only one to drink, and he must leave\nno heel-taps; it is the company who remain seated, and break into a\ndeafening humming and _oo-oo_-ing, which are kept up until the last drop\nis drained. Possibly, the custom arises from the fact that there are\nrarely cups enough to go round, and one sticky, begrimed, glass tumbler,\nor else a carved bamboo cup, (rarely used now-a-days,) must perforce pass\nfrom lip to lip. That there had been such things as bamboo drinking-cups,\nwe discovered by mere accident from a song, commonly sung at these\nfeasts, which runs:\u2014\u2018I offer to you the glittering cup, I offer to you\nthe bamboo cup.\u2019 The words have a jingling rhythm:\u2014\n\n    Akui mejee tebok klingee\n    Ara wi wi ar\u00e1\n    Aku meju tebok bulu\n    Ara wi wi ar\u00e1.\n\n[Illustration: \u2018Tebok Bulu,\u2019\u2014Bamboo Drinking-cup.]\n\nNever having seen in use, as cups, aught else but pressed-glass tumblers\nor cocoanut shells, we asked what was meant by \u2018tebok bulu\u2019 and, by way\nof answer, a rummage began among the old mats and baskets piled on the\nrafters; whereupon, several bamboo cups were found, coated with dust and\nsoot. They were carved into a sort of lip like a pitcher on the upper\nedge, and on the sides were decorated with engraved scrolls, bands, and\ncircles. Tama Bulan was delighted to see them, and said he remembered\nwell when there was no other kind of cup than the tebok bulu. He insisted\nthat one should be washed out immediately and put to use, inasmuch as\narrack always tasted far better from the bamboo. To Jok Orong, being\na guest from afar, was accorded the honor of the first drink, and the\n_oo-oo_-ing was so thunderous that in his nervousness most of the arrack\ntrickled down where his shirt front might have been. Then came Tama\nBulan\u2019s turn, and without the wink of an eyelid he drained the cup, and\nthen gave a cleanly wipe round his mouth with the long, dangling end of\nhis waist-cloth. So the flowing bowl passed round; one after another the\nChiefs were toasted and _oo-oo_-ed, and Jok Orong\u2019s perpetual-motion\ntongue was again set free, but instead of recapitulating his endless\nwrongs, he now divulged, for the first time, the true object of his\nvisit. Having first privately conferred with Tama Bulan and obtained the\nlatter\u2019s hearty approval of his purpose, he formally announced to the\nwhole company that he was on his way to the Baram Fort to convey to Dr.\nHose, whom he now unexpectedly met on the road, the earnest wishes of the\npeople of the Batang Kayan River, in Dutch Borneo, to emigrate to the\nBaram district, and place themselves under the protecting Government of\nRajah Brooke. It was the very thing that Dr. Hose had been hoping to hear\nfor some time past. It was especially fortunate that Tama Bulan happened\nto be on hand, and could give his weighty assurances that the immigrants\nwould meet with cordial welcome. As a tangible proof of the friendship\nof the Kayans and Kenyahs of the Baram, a large bundle of presents was\nmade up for Jok Orong to carry back with him. Tama Bulan purchased at\nonce from Aban Avit two large brass gongs as his contribution, (a really\nlavish present;) Aban Avit sent a highly prized clay jar; Tama Usong\nand Juman contributed parangs and spear-heads, and Dr. Hose sent a bolt\nof white cotton cloth, three bolts of Turkey red, a bottle of Scotch\nwhiskey, and, with his usual happy tact, a bundle of candles; these, he\nexplained to Jok Orong, were to light the footsteps of the new comers and\nguide them to a land of ease and plenty,\u2014a gift and a message exactly in\naccord with their own sentimental symbolism; and six months later, when\na large number of these Batang Kayan people did move over to the Baram,\nthe Chiefs all came to Dr. Hose and laid these candles before him in the\ncourt-room of the Fort.\n\n[Illustration: RIVER SCENE IN THE HEART OF BORNEO.]\n\nWhen the arrack was getting low and the lament of Jok Orong was beginning\nafresh, Tama Bulan arose to take his leave. All the people of the\nhouse, even the women and children, marched out in single file and took\ntheir places on the plank walk leading to the river-bank, and even on\nthe notched log at the very edge of the water. As the brave old Kenyan\nChief\u2019s canoe swung out, all those who stood on the shore waved their\nlarge disc-like hats, shouting farewells and wishes for his safe journey\nhome. He leaned far out from under the palm-leaf screen of his canoe,\nand with a broad smile, revealing a gleam of his shining black teeth,\nwaved his hat and shouted success to the Great Peace-party; the swift\ncurrent caught his boat, and it dashed out of sight round the turn of\nthe river. There is unquestionably an unusual personal force in this\nmiddle-aged Kenyah Chief\u2019s character; not a tribe that does not respect\nhis name and speak of him with admiration mingled almost with reverence.\nIn my book of photographs, which I carried about with me to overcome the\nobjections of timid souls to having their portraits taken, Tama Bulan\u2019s\nportrait soon became framed with a black margin of thumb-marks, and\nhis features much dimmed by constant fingering,\u2014the natives are never\ncontent simply to look at a portrait, but always insist on passing their\nhands over it; in landscapes, no matter how familiar the scene, they\ntake no interest whatever. Tama Bulan\u2019s influence cannot be attributed\nto fierce looks; his expression is, on the contrary, gentle and benign;\nnor is his presence commanding, but yet, when he once gives an order or\npronounces judgement, there seems to be no thought of disobedience or of\nappeal. Certainly, he has one characteristic: keenness; we once asked\nhim if he knew what was meant when, in talking English among ourselves,\nwe said \u2018T. B.\u2019 (his initials); he at once replied, \u2018I think, Tuan, you\nare, probably, talking about me.\u2019 We were led to ask because we noticed\nseveral times that he looked up swiftly when these initials were uttered.\n\nBy the time that all the arrack had been quaffed, the promiscuous\nhousehold of Aban Avit was somewhat demoralized; nevertheless, we picked\nout a party of eight or ten sober men to escort us to the top of an\nadjoining hill, whence we could get the bearings of several mountains\nwhich would give us cross-bearings when we reached the really hilly\ncountry. It was an exceedingly difficult ascent, although the hill was\nonly five hundred feet high; so dense was the jungle with thorny palms,\nrattans, and the roots of \u2018buttress trees,\u2019 that we had to cut every\nstep of our way to the top. When we reached the summit we were just as\nmuch closed in by trees as when we were at the foot. As a sight of the\nhorizon was essential, there was no help for it but to sacrifice some of\nthe grand old trees; so our men were set to work with their axes, and in\na few minutes one after another of the venerable giants went toppling\ndown the precipitous hillside, carrying smaller trees in their fall and\nmaking a crashing roar that reverberated from mountain to mountain like\nveritable peals of thunder. Then were disclosed views of the surrounding\nmountains through the open windows in the foliage, and we were enabled\nto take the bearings of Mt. Dulit, and Mt. Mulu, and the peaks of a low\nrange of lime-stone hills that were to the south-westward near the coast.\n\nThe next day, during our toilsome paddling up-river, we overtook an old\nChief named Jamma and his party, also on the way to Tama Aping Buling\u2019s\nto participate in the Peace ceremonies.\n\nJamma had the reputation of having at all times a marvellously good\nopinion of himself, and on this occasion was travelling in grand state\nwith gong-players in the bow of his boat discoursing that tinkling,\nstaccato music, of which, it seems, he was an ardent admirer.\n\n[Illustration: LAKI JOK ORONG, A REJANG RIVER CHIEF.\n\nTHE ORNAMENTS IN HIS EARS ARE CARVED OUT OF THE BEAK OF A HORN-BILL, IN\nIMITATION OF TIGER-CAT\u2019S TEETH.]\n\nThe instrument known as the \u2018Kromong\u2019 is an importation from Brunei,\nthe ancient capital of Borneo, and consists of a series of eleven small\nbrass gongs laid on ropes of rice straw and struck with a wooden beater.\nThe result is perfect in time but absolutely devoid of melody; it is\nmerely running up and down the imperfect scale of gongs in sequence, or\nbeginning at the deepest toned, or largest gong, with the left hand, the\nthird in the series is struck with the right hand, then the second with\nthe left and the fourth with the right, and so up the line of all the\neleven gongs, the left hand following the right at an interval of one\ngong. At a distance, possibly at a very great distance, the sound wafted\nacross the water is really not unpleasant, recalling the gurgling and\ntinkling of a woodland brook; but close at hand its jangling monotony is\nbeyond words exasperating.\n\nJamma, to whom was due this running accompaniment, is the nephew of the\nredoubtable Aban Jau, who, in the wild days before Sir Charles Brooke\nbecame Rajah of the Baram district, was the ruler over all the people\nof the Tinjar. For years he defied the Sarawak Government, and with his\nnumerous and formidable household of eight hundred people was the terror\nof the whole region. His house was over a quarter of a mile in length,\nand was well stocked with brass swivel-guns brought from Brunei. But he\nwas finally overpowered by the Rajah\u2019s trained Iban soldiers and forced\nto submit to the laws and the taxes of Sarawak. Mild and moderate as\nthese were, they were too galling to Aban Jau, and he soon after migrated\nto the regions of \u2018Bulun Matai,\u2019\u2014the Land of the Dead,\u2014his household\nwas scattered, and nothing now remains of his long-house except rows of\ndecaying posts stretching far away into a thick, impenetrable overgrowth\nof palms, gigantic ferns, and tangled vines. To judge of the dead uncle\nby the living nephew, it cannot be said that the breed is improved;\nthe nephew, Jamma, is a decidedly repulsive old fellow in spite of his\nmusical strain. At the time I made his acquaintance he was sadly in need\nof a razor, or rather, of a pair of tweezers; a five days\u2019 scraggly\ngrowth of grizzled bristles covered his chin and cheeks; to aid his\nfailing eyes he wore a pair of huge, circular, brass-rimmed spectacles,\nevidently a bargain, purchased at random from a Chinese trader; their\nfocus did not in the least comply with the formula of his eye-sight, and\nmade him squinny up his eyes in a number of wrinkles that would puzzle\nCocker. The eyes behind the glasses resembled those of an Orang Utan;\nthe whites were a dirty, blood-shot brown, and the iris appeared to\nhave overrun and left a stain around it. His eyebrows and eyelashes had\nbeen pulled out, and beneath the lower lids hung wrinkled and flabby\nbags of skin. His upper lip was long, and came down to a point in the\nmiddle, and his lower lip was thick and everted, exposing the pale,\nmoist, inner surface. His nose was broad and flat, and the nostrils\nopened directly forward and apparently into the cavities of his skull.\nOn his head a thin, unhealthy-looking crop of whitish hair stood up,\nlike a scrubbing-brush, where it was not covered by the very dirty and\nfaded blue and white jockey cap of canton flannel, which he wore with\nunmeasured pride and with a \u2018peace in the consciousness of being well\ndressed,\u2019 which all his \u2018religion could not bestow.\u2019 The stretched lobe\nof his right ear had given way, and one long end dangled down on his\nchest and whipped from side to side whenever he moved his head quickly.\nLong experience has taught me utterly to distrust personal appearance at\nfirst sight, but in Jamma\u2019s case a prolonged acquaintance confirmed a\nbelief that his intense ugliness had struck in.\n\nThe Peace-party was by this time assuming large proportions; constant\nadditions were made to it from the houses along the river, and late in\nthe afternoon, after a vigorous and inevitable outburst from Jamma\u2019s\ngongs, we pulled up at the high sandy bank in front of the house of Tama\nAping Pang. Here, beyond the region of mosquitoes, and while darkness was\nclosing in, cooking fires were built along the shore.\n\nAfter the evening meal was finished and universal benevolence was\ndiffused by soothing cigarettes, all the Kayans went up into the house\nto assist Juman in the rite of \u2018Usut\u2019\u2014that is, of obliterating a feud.\nThe interchange of Usut is obligatory between the descendants of\nenemies whenever they first enter each other\u2019s houses; they may have\nmet many times on most friendly terms in the jungle or in the houses\nof neighbours, but they must not take shelter under one another\u2019s roof\nuntil they have appeased the wrongs done by and against their ancestors.\nThe simple rite of giving Usut for ancestral wrongs is expanded into\nthe performance of Jawa when, in addition, the descendants have been\nthemselves wrongdoers.\n\nUp the notched log we all mounted to the veranda and seated ourselves\nin a circle on the floor. Juman and Tama Aping Pang, a short and squat\nlittle man, with a decidedly Mongolian face, sat cross-legged and facing\neach other. Juman began the ceremony by flinging down a roughly made iron\nspear-head into the centre of the circle; thereupon Jamma, still wearing\nhis goggles and his blue and white jockey cap, arose to officiate.\nUpon the flat surface of the spear-head a young chicken was at once\ndecapitated, then torn to pieces, and its warm blood smeared thickly\nover the point. The hideous Jamma thereupon proclaimed, in the guttural\ngrunts of the Sibop language, that all enmity between the Houses of Tama\nAping Pang and Juman was at an end, and hereafter neither of them could\nbe reproached with having allowed the slaughter of their ancestors to\ngo unavenged. Whereupon sundry beads and trinkets were exchanged more\nas a formality than on account of their value, and some blood from the\nspear-point having been rubbed either on the chest or arms of everyone\npresent, including ourselves, Juman and all his clan at once hailed Tama\nAping Pang and all his clan, as friends. No carousing followed, and the\nweary Kayans soon retired to the river-bank and to their canoes to sleep.\n\nThis house of Tama Aping Pang is famed for its manufacture of \u2018Sumpits,\u2019\nor blow-pipes. All along on the partition wall of the veranda, I\nnoticed that they were stacked in all stages of manufacture, from the\nrough-hewn and thick staves up to the drilled and polished tubes. The\nbest Sumpits are made of a hard, close-grained, reddish wood of a tree\ncalled \u2018Niagang.\u2019 This is used not only on account of its hardness but\nalso because it is exceedingly straight and has very few knots. A staff\nof wood about eight feet long is shaved down until it is about three and\na half inches in diameter; it is then inserted in a hole in the floor\nof the house, and so secured that one end remains five or six inches\nabove the floor; over it a man stands with a long, slender rod of iron\nflattened to a rough edge at one end; this edge an assistant keeps\nconstantly true to the centre of the long staff, while the man raises and\ndrops the drill perpendicularly. Gradually a bore of about a quarter of\nan inch in diameter is thus produced. It is an exceedingly slow process;\nit takes at least eight or nine hours to drill through the whole length\nof the staff. The bore is now smoothed, first, by means of fine sand or\nclay smeared on a slim rattan, which is pulled through it many times\nrapidly backward and forward. It is then ready for polishing with another\npiece of rattan ending in a loop or a cleft, wherein leaves, like the\nbamboo, rich in silica, are bound; it is thus polished until it shines\nalmost as brilliantly as a gun-barrel. The staff is now trimmed down to\nthe diameter of about an inch and a half at the mouth, and to an inch\nat the muzzle, and then scraped and smoothed with knives and shark-skin\nfiles. If the tube happen to be slightly sprung, the curve is overcome\nby a broad iron spear-head bound on at the muzzle; when the pipe is held\nhorizontally the weight of the iron counteracts the curve.\n\nSome of the more highly finished blow-pipes are furnished with a sight,\ncalled by the Kayans \u2018Bitan,\u2019 ingeniously made of a cowrie shell imbedded\nin gutta-percha near the muzzle, with the slit-like opening turned upward\nand parallel with the shaft; again, others have an iron sight, near the\nmuzzle, bound on with rattan. I have never seen any carved ornamentation\non a blow-pipe except a plate of bone inlaid with strips of lead, at the\nmouth-end. \u2018Sumpitan\u2019 is the Malay name for the weapon; the Kayans call\nit \u2018Leput,\u2019 and the Punans simply \u2018Put;\u2019 Ibans, who clip and elide Malay\nwords, drop the ending _an_, and call it \u2018Sumpit.\u2019 All these names are,\npossibly, derived from an imitation of the sound when the dart is blown\nthrough the tube and the tongue closes the opening with a quick pat.\n\nBefore our departure next morning there was lively trading in the\nspecialty of the house. The house itself was really a notable monument of\nindustry and artistic taste; many of the projecting beam-ends were carved\nand the partition walls decorated with borders and frescoes in black and\nred. For a bolt of red cloth I bought the elaborately carved door of a\ndwelling-room, whereof the photograph is on the opposite page.\n\nOur next destination was the house of the crafty and treacherous Aban\nLiah, once a respected Penghulu, but on account of his duplicity in\nconnection with the murder of the Chinaman by Tinggi, (set forth in\nthe preceding pages,) the Government had degraded him. His house was\nselected, nevertheless, as a rendezvous for the whole Peace-party before\nascending the river to the house of Tama Aping Billing, just then the\ncandidate for the Penghulu-ship of the upper Tinjar, and also for Aban\nLiah\u2019s seat in the Council Negri.\n\n[Illustration: A DOOR-FRAME FROM THE HOUSE OF TAMA APING PANG, A SIBOP.\n\nTHE TWO LITTLE FIGURES ABOVE THE DOOR WERE SAID TO REPRESENT WAWA\nMONKEYS. THE CARVING TO THE RIGHT OF THEM IS, I BELIEVE, THE\nCONVENTIONALIZED HEAD OF A PIG. BELOW THE DOOR THE SAME DESIGN IS\nREPEATED, BUT REVERSED AND DOUBLE.]\n\nAfter the halt for luncheon, at mid-day, old Jamma courteously invited\nme into his boat, and in order to overcome my prejudice against him I\naccepted his invitation. He verily tried his best to make me comfortable;\narranged mats and rolls of cloth for me to recline on; started up the\ngong-beater to his deafening and lugubrious work; told me with assiduous\nattention the names of the small tributary streams which we passed, and\nzealously pointed out one where some of his men had gone on a collecting\ntrip for the \u2018thing that smells,\u2019\u2014a circumlocution for camphor,\u2014he was\nafraid to pronounce the name lest it bring bad luck to his collectors.\nThat the river was pre-empted was manifest; across its mouth had been\nstretched a rope of rattan, and from it dangled wooden models of parangs,\nbilliongs, (axes) and spears. These models indicated that the river was\nclaimed by the camphor collectors; to disregard this warning exposed\nthe offender to the malignity of all evil Spirits. The only way whereby\nsuch a taboo may be counteracted is to build a fire, and erect over it\nan arch of twigs and sticks cut at the ends and down the sides into\ncurled shavings; when the fire burns up briskly, he who would break the\ntaboo must carefully explain to the fire that he is a near friend to the\nclaimants of the river, and entreat the flame and the smoke to convey\nhis message of good-will both to them and to the Spirits of the jungle.\nAfter this ceremony he may, in perfect safety, pass under the rattan, and\nascend the river.\n\nIn the course of this entertaining and instructive conversation,\nJamma suddenly, and apparently for the first time, caught sight of my\nbriar-wood pipe, and, apropos of nothing, exclaimed, \u2018What a pity it is\nthat the Tuan did not bring with him several pipes like the one he is now\nsmoking.\u2019 The mystery of his devotion to me was at once solved! Here was\nthe secret of his hospitality; alack, I did not respond; blind to the\npalpable hint, I simply replied that it was indeed a pity, a great pity;\nI often liked to change my pipes, but that this one was so exceptionally\nsweet that I had brought no other. He had counted on my handing it\nover to him with alacrity, and at once his manner changed from \u2018gay to\ngrave, from lively to severe;\u2019 the rest of the journey was passed in an\nobstinate silence, unbroken save by the banging of his brazen gongs.\n\nAban Liah began to show his evil disposition from the very moment we\npulled up at his house; he insisted that Juman should never enter his\nhouse until Usut had been paid. This seemed designed to thwart the whole\nPeace-making; not only would much time be consumed in discussing the\npayment of Usut which was not due to Aban Liah, but furthermore the\nceremony of Jawa and total settlement of Usut had been planned to take\nplace in a day or two at Tama Aping Buling\u2019s. Dr. Hose put a stop at once\nto all this nonsense by emphatically telling Aban Liah that Juman was\nnow travelling with the Government,\u2014that is, with Dr. Hose himself,\u2014and\nas the Government intended to enter any house that was convenient, Juman\nshould follow. I am thus particular in giving these details because\nof their tragic consequence to Aban Liah. In response, Aban Liah gave\na grunt, and, muttering, shut himself up at once in his private room,\nwhere he sulked for half an hour, while the Kayans and Kenyahs were\nmaking themselves quite at home in his veranda. When they were all seated\nin groups, Dr. Hose went to the room and dragged forth the pouting,\ngrumbling, obstinate old creature, and although the two men, Aban Liah\nand Juman, were perfectly well acquainted with each other, Dr. Hose made\nan elaborate ceremony of introducing them, as though they had never met\nbefore; this formal introduction really seemed to obliterate all previous\nhard feeling, and Aban Liah unbent as though graciously meeting a new\nacquaintance. Shortly afterward, our host cleared a space in his room\nfor us, spread fresh mats, and put his fireplace at the disposal of our\nChinese cook. When we all sat chatting in the veranda, Aban Liah seized\nthe occasion to expatiate on the magnificent proportions of the pig that\nhe was going to kill for us on the morrow, affirming that it was seven\nspans long (this was one span better than Tama Liri had held out to us),\nand very, _very_ fat! His arrack also was of an especially fine brand,\nand plenty of it, too, in jars dusty with age.\n\nSuddenly, messengers hurried in to announce that the Lerons from the\nhouse of the Leppu Anans close by, and friends and relatives of Tinggi,\nwere on their way down-river to go through the ceremony of Jawa with\nJuman and his clan.\n\n[Illustration: ABAN LIAH.\n\nA BERAWAN CHIEF, WHO, DURING THE PEACE-MAKING, DIED OF A GUILTY\nCONSCIENCE.]\n\nThe greatest excitement at once ensued; all jumped to their feet and\nbegan talking and gesticulating wildly. Dr. Hose, fearing that a real\nfight, instead of a sham one, might be the result, hurried up-river in a\nlight canoe, to meet the approaching participators in the Jawa, and to\nrestrain their zeal. These people, be it remembered, had vowed to kill\nDr. Hose on sight, and had even made death-dealing images both of him and\nof Tama Bulan, as I have already mentioned. Dr. Hose\u2019s absolute disregard\nof their bloodthirsty threats and machinations disarmed them completely;\nhe boarded their canoe in the most friendly manner and accompanied them\ndown-stream.\n\nWhen they were opposite to Aban Liah\u2019s house, the bravest in their\nparty fired three or four blank shots from an old muzzle-loading gun.\nThis salute Juman was bound to answer from the house. His gun was a\nbreech-loader, but unfortunately so old, battered, and loose in its\njoints that a man at the stock stood in as much danger as a man at the\nmuzzle. Juman\u2019s apology for his reluctance to fire it off was\u2014(literally\ntranslated) \u2018Tuan, will you shoot off this snappang for me; I am afraid\nits engine has the fever.\u2019 My assistant, Lewis Etzel, discharged it twice\nfor him, and then made the hair of the Lerons stand on-end by discharging\nfrom his Winchester rifle six shots, in rapid succession. After this\nexchange of salutes, the Lerons disembarked and entered the house at the\nup-river end. After all were assembled in a dense crowd, panting with\nexcitement, their eyes dilated and flashing, they paused for a second and\nthen gave a wild yell, like a jeer of derision, and began stamping their\nfeet on the rattling boards. It was truly deafening. Instantly Juman and\nhis people were on their feet. There was a quick, frenzied dash, with\nyells and stamps, until they stood face to face. This was the instant\nthat the sham, weaponless fight should have taken place, leaving black\neyes and torn ears. For a moment, it seemed as though over-excitement\nwould lead to a deeper tragedy. The reaction came unexpectedly from\nJuman, the chief actor in this dramatic show (which in sooth it really\nwas). Juman, brave enough before a single man, Tinggi, was here overcome\nby an attack of\u2014what shall I call it?\u2014stage fright? The next moment we\nsaw him wilt and ignominiously retreat from the affray. The wild hubbub\nsubsided weakly. Criticisms of Juman\u2019s conduct were at once loudly,\nfreely, and universally expressed. But, unabashed, he stoutly maintained\nthat he had fulfilled all that was required of him, and that now was the\ntime for Usut. The Lerons had killed many of his ancestors in days of\nyore, and he demanded of them, as a salve for his wounded feelings, five\n\u2018Tawaks\u2019\u2014(large bronze gongs made in Java) and five small gongs, (worth\nin all about three hundred Mexican dollars.) This considerable sum, the\nLerons protested, was far too high a price to pay for wounds inflicted\non Juman\u2019s ancestors and his own feelings; finally, after much haggling\nand many excited gesticulations on both sides, a compromise was struck on\none Tawak, one small gong, and a \u2018Lukut sek\u00e1la,\u2019 one of those invaluable\nbeads, prized above all others by Kayans, Kenyahs, and Ibans.\n\n(I tried my best to solve the mysterious value of these beads, but\nin vain. They are by no means brilliant or showy; indeed, quite the\ncontrary, they are rather dull and ugly; of about half an inch in\ndiameter, and on the four quarters there is a little many-pointed star of\ndull yellow on a dark background. They look a good deal like old Venetian\nglass, but whence they originally came, or wherein consists their charm,\nthe natives themselves could not or would not tell. Once on a time, some\nastute Chinese traders, counting on an assured fortune, sent a Lukut\nsek\u00e1la to Germany, where it was copied with really marvellous fidelity.\nWith these faultless imitations they were certain that they could deceive\nthe natives, but the latter detected the counterfeit beads at once, and,\nalthough willing to purchase the forgeries, would pay but a pittance for\nthem.)\n\nBy the terms of the Usut, whenever the Lerons should pay a return visit\nto Juman, he pledged himself to restore the Lukut sek\u00e1la.\n\nAs soon as Juman\u2019s Usut was finally settled with the Lerons, Aban Liah\u2019s\nvaunted seven-span pig was brought forward for inspection and admiration.\nTama Liri at once fell to measuring it off; when his last span reached\nthe animal\u2019s snout, he arose, and, gazing round on the circle and wagging\nhis head with a beaming and triumphant smile, announced that after all\nthe pig was barely _five_ spans long. The chorus of clucks of surprise\nwith which this announcement was greeted did not, however, in the least\ndisconcert the boastful and deceitful old host.\n\n[Illustration: A CONTINGENT OF THE PEACE-PARTY.]\n\nJamma, still resplendent in his dirty blue and white jockey cap and\nprodigious goggles, hustled about in a most officious manner, directing\nthe guests and members of the household where to sit, and what to do,\nalways in a half-apologetic tone, as if the host, Aban Liah, should\nbe pardoned for not exactly knowing what was proper. Tama Talip, the\nChief of the Lerons, now that everything in the way of Usut had been\npaid and snugly stowed, took his seat among the Kayans and Kenyahs, and\ndenounced Juman\u2019s demands and rehearsed the deaths among his forebears\ndue to Juman\u2019s bloodthirsty family. Juman listened stolidly, evidently\nnot a little pleased to hear how very brave his ancestors had been.\nThe talk went round the circle, and Jok Orong began again to drone\nforth the endless tale of his woes. The dreary knowledge of what this\nimplied proved too much for the patience of the white contingent of the\nPeace-party, and we all crept unobserved out of the circle, and, having\nfound, on the banks of the river, an upturned canoe, reclined thereon,\nand lazily watched in the gloaming the gigantic fruit-bats, (\u2018flying\nfoxes\u2019 they are called,) which were now thickly visible in all quarters\nof the sky and all bending their flight in one direction, toward their\nnocturnal feeding-ground. They imparted an antediluvian appearance to the\nsombre scene, and we seemed to have travelled back into a remote geologic\nperiod, among the pterodactyls. Not even the golden rays of level\nsunlight gleaming forth from beneath lowering clouds on the horizon could\ndispel this solemnity. At our feet sluggishly glided the darkening river,\nemerging, and again lost, from under the dense jungle on its banks,\nwhence here and there tall, slender, tufted palms rose into the silent\nair from the unbroken green massed about their feet. On the opposite\nbank, in the distance, abruptly towered Mount Dulit, whose purple peaks\nwere glowing with the last rays of sunlight. And \u2018all the air a solemn\nstillness\u2019 held, save when at intervals the muffled murmur of Jok Orong\u2019s\nwoes reached us from the house behind, but did not mar the scene; it\npartook of the nature of eternity and infinity; we felt that _labitur et\nlabetur in omne volubilis aevum_.\n\nOn the next day a great feast was held; as one of the most important,\nnay, most vital, of preliminaries, the slaughter of the pigs took\nplace, and the inspection of their livers for favorable or unfavorable\nomens. The pigs were brought up with their four feet tied together, and\nlaid in a row outside the circle of Chiefs and elders in the veranda.\nTama Talip, the Chief of the Lerons as well as an adopted father of\nTinggi, whom Juman had slain, begged Dr. Hose to talk to a pig before\nit was killed, and enjoin it to divulge by its liver whether or not the\nGovernment was right in ordering the death of Tinggi. Dr. Hose consented\nto harangue the swine, but with much shrewdness, warned the assemblage,\nin advance, that no matter what the victim\u2019s liver might indicate, he\nhad pursued the course that seemed right to him, and would do so again\nin spite of all the livers of a thousand pigs. He stood forth in the\ncentre of the circle, where the pig was lying, and paused solemnly for\nall conversation to cease; in spite, however, of the gravity of his\nbearing, and the sacredness of the occasion, some of the light-headed\nrabble, outside the circle, kept up a gabbling, whereupon he shouted at\nthem in a voice so loud and stern, that their teeth chattered, and old\nJamma\u2019s hair stood up stiffer than before. In the pin-drop silence that\nfollowed, he suddenly gave the unsuspecting swine a vigorous kick to\nenforce attention, whereto, by an aggrieved squeal, the animal responded\nthat it was all ears. His harangue was then addressed, partly to the pig\nand partly to the Lerons, almost in the following words:\u2014\u2018Lerons, it is\nnot one of our customs to ask from a pig what is in the hearts of men,\nbut you people of up-river have faith in this custom and believe that a\npig knows your feelings, [cries of \u2018Bet\u00fal! Bet\u00fal!\u2019\u2014True! True!] I will\non this occasion adopt your custom and talk to this pig. You tell me\nthat this pig understands Malay, so I will talk in that language, that\nall may understand, Kayans, Kenyahs, Sibops, Berawans, and Lerons. Know\nthen, that it was neither Juman nor Tama Bulan who slew Tinggi and his\nbrother Sidup, but I, the Government, did it, and none other. If you\nhave any fault to find, find it with me. Remember that, you, Tama Talip,\nthere! And now, O sacred pig, tell us who is in the wrong and who is in\nthe right. [Here, the pig receives another and vigorous call upon its\nattention, and responds befittingly.] If men of the Tinjar kill people, I\nwill order men from the Baram to find the murderers and slay them. If men\nof the Baram kill people, I will order Tinjar men to find the murderers\nand slay them. Let this declaration of mine sink into your livers, all\nyou people from both rivers, and never forget it.\u2019 With these concluding\nwords, he stamped his foot so suddenly and so loudly, that the old\nmen, already awed by the silence and the solemnity of the hour, jumped\nalmost from the floor, and Jamma shook his goggles off. Immediately\nthe cry arose,\u2014\u2018Kill the pig instantly, that he may hear nothing else\nto influence him!\u2019 The poor beast was then quickly seized and taken to\none side, and its neck sawed through with a dull parang, and before its\ndeath-struggles were fully over, its warm liver was deposited in a wooden\nbowl, and passed round the assembly for close inspection. They all tried\nto look extremely wise and expressed their opinions in a grave undertone\nto their neighbors; an old man, with one eye and a faded green velvet\nsmoking-cap, winked and blinked at it, and then pensively resumed the\nmastication of a betel nut. Jamma pawed and fingered the liver all over,\nbut maintained an ominous silence. Tama Talip screwed his mouth up on\none side with a foreboding expression, clasped his hands over his knees,\nand began rocking backward and forward. The atmosphere became charged\nwith perplexity and deep anxiety. Evidently, the fateful liver was only\npossibly favorable, and certainly dubious. The gall-bladder extended down\nnearly to the edge of the liver, and the small lobe which lies beside it\nwas thin and long; so far, these features meant long life and prosperity.\nThe chief points, which involved perplexity not unmixed with deep dismay,\nwere that the lobe which represented the Government, was small, hard,\nand firm, while its inner border was ominously like a cord set into the\nsurrounding substance; and, worst of all, above the attachment of the\ngall-bladder was an unprecedented, deeply indented scar, as if some of\nthe liver had actually melted away! Consternation began to deepen. It was\na hazardous minute for the Government. But Dr. Hose rose to the occasion,\nand at once proclaimed to all the clear and manifest interpretation of\nthe extraordinary message from the pig. He asserted that the liver most\nunmistakably revealed to them, by the hardness of its lobe, the strength\nand unswerving justice of the Government, and that it was most difficult\nto break, while at the same time, it was as clear as noon-day that the\nthick, cord-like border showed how firmly the Government was united to\nthe best interests of the people. Then turning to the scar above the\ngall-bladder, he made their very souls quiver and their flesh creep,\nby declaring that it unquestionably foretold the speedy and inevitable\ndeath of some very important Chief! (A little wholesome terror is a\nhappy solvent in governing these people.) Several of the Chiefs present\nwould have turned pale, if they could, at this frightful, terrifying\nrevelation, but possibly they consoled themselves with the thought,\nhitherto unacknowledged by their self-conceit, that perhaps they were not\nso very, very important after all.\n\nNo one dared raise a dissenting voice to Dr. Hose\u2019s lucid and manifest\ninterpretation. A good instance, by the way, of one of the sources of\nhis influence over them; he always contrives to turn to the Government\u2019s\naccount their superstitions and fears.\n\nAban Liah, our host, was the most apprehensive of all present. He well\nknew that he had once been all-important in his tribe, and that he\nhad been unfaithful and treacherous to the Government; wherefore, the\nbetter to conceal his deadly fear, and revive his courage, he had his\nlarge jars of arrack brought out, and ostentatiously cut the dusty stiff\nrattans which bound down the covers. The first drink was tendered to the\ninterminable Jok Orong, the guest from the Rejang, to whom all desired\nto show friendship and promise protection to his people should they move\ninto the Baram district. He gulped down the drink quickly, but not so\nquickly that the crowd had not time enough to stamp and shout in the\ncustomary manner so mightily that the house most alarmingly trembled,\ncreaked, and swayed, until caution prompted us to secure safe positions\nover good, strong beams; no accident happened, however, although a\ntremendous uproar accompanied the quaffing by each Chief. Before the\nsecond round of drinks, Dr. Hose insisted that they should deliver\ntheir speeches and protestations of peace while their brains were still\nunclouded, and as a preliminary the officious Jamma killed a fowl over a\nbowl of water, and then with a brush of wood cut into a tuft of shavings\nat one end spattered the blood and water over the audience. Then, still\nholding the blood-smeared brush in his hand, he launched into a vehement\nharangue, proclaiming this to be the very greatest of all Peace-makings\nthat had ever been known on the banks of the Tinjar, and that the pig\u2019s\nliver had shown them clearly and truly the strength and benefit of the\nGovernment. When he had nearly shaken off his absurd goggles and his\njockey cap had assumed a jaunty air on the back of his head, he handed\nthe bloodied brush over to Juman, who at once jumped to his feet, and\nin the Kayan language began to tell in a truly sensible way how he and\nTama Bulan had been commanded by the Government to bring Tinggi to\njustice. He then deliberately narrated all the details of the killing,\n(which must have been pleasant to the ears of Tama Talip, the adopted\nfather of Tinggi,) but gradually he worked himself up to a high pitch\nof excitement, beating the air with his arms, see-sawing backward and\nforward, and emphasising the close of each sentence by shouting \u2018Bahh!\nBahh!\u2019 He asserted that he was but the servant of the Government when he\nkilled Tinggi, and so staunch was his loyalty that, should the Government\ncommand him to kill his dear friend Tama Usong, he would hold it to\nbe his duty to obey. His excitement soon over-mastered him, and when\nhe began to indulge in bravado, and offer to engage any one member of\nTinggi\u2019s family in single combat, we deemed it high time to pull him down\ninto his seat, and then plied him with congratulations, just as though he\nhad fully rounded off his speech and finished all he wanted to say.\n\n[Illustration: LIAN AVIT, A LEPPU ANNAN, WITH TIPANG, HIS WIFE, WHO IS\nSTANDING, AND HER TWO SISTERS.\n\nTHE WOODEN FIGURES BEHIND THEM HAVE BEEN PLACED NEAR THE PATHWAY LEADING\nTO THE HOUSE, TO FRIGHTEN AWAY EVIL SPIRITS. THESE FIGURES ARE NOT\nWORSHIPPED AS IDOLS, NOR ARE OFFERINGS OR SACRIFICES MADE TO THEM,\nBUT THEY ARE REGARDED TO A CERTAIN EXTENT WITH REVERENCE. INASMUCH AS\nTO TOUCH THEM OR TREAT THEM DISRESPECTFULLY ENDANGERS THE OFFENDER TO\nTERRIBLE DREAMS AT NIGHT AND TO BEING SEIZED BY GHOSTLY HANDS, WHICH WILL\nLEAVE LASTING SCARS.]\n\nWhile he was on his feet, drinks had been passing around quietly and\nsome of the older men, whose heads were none too strong, began to feel\nalcoholic effects. Old Aban Anyi, a devoted follower of Tama Usong, and a\nhero of many battles, who once told me with pride that he had killed many\nmen, any quantity of women, and no end of children, hearing Juman boast\nthat he would kill Tama Usong if he were so ordered by the Government,\ntried to get on his feet to challenge such braggart talk, but Tama Usong\nhimself grabbed him forcibly by the back of his waist-cloth and thumped\nhim down to his seat again, where he sat mumbling and protesting until\nsoothed and silenced with another drink. The bloody \u2018_pla_,\u2019 or wooden\nbrush, was next passed to Aban Liah, but his speech was weak and very\napologetic throughout; he asserted that the Government had treated him\nbadly by degrading him just because he did not tell the whereabouts of\nthe murderers, Tinggi and Sidup; indeed, he never knew who the murderers\nwere. Now the fact was that we knew, and all his hearers knew, that he\nhad lied egregiously and persistently about the murderers, and had even\nconcealed them in his own house. All this had been fully proved after the\nmurderers had been killed. It was the sufficing cause of his loss of the\nPenghulu-ship.\n\nTama Usong\u2019s turn came next to declare his good will to the people of\nthe Tinjar, and before he began, a large cup of arrack was thrust upon\nhim. The contents of the jars had become, by this time, nearly exhausted;\nconsequently this cupfull had been dipped up from the dregs, and Tama\nUsong gulped into his mouth several large pasty lumps of fermented\nrice. In the embarrassment caused by holding the pla (which seems to be\nessential to public speaking) he blew the kernels of rice accidentally,\nbut directly in his host\u2019s face. The arrack was painfully present in his\nrambling and incoherent speech, to which no one paid any attention. At\nits conclusion all the Chiefs drank in turn from the same cup, and the\nformal part of the programme of the meeting ended.\n\nHaving gathered about him a fresh and untried audience, Jok Orong started\nin again with his endless, life-long tale of woe, which, we knew, only\ntoo well, would last until the arrack was utterly exhausted as well as\nhis hearers; we, therefore, left them incontinently, preferring the\npeace and quiet of the Leppu Anan house, a short distance up-river, to\nthe fingered feast of stewed fat pork with which Aban Liah was about to\nregale his guests.\n\nThe Leppu Anans are a clan from the Rejang, which not long before had\nbeen driven over to the Baram district by a threatened onslaught of the\nIbans, who by some underhand means had obtained permission from the\nGovernment to attack them with a regularly organized force. Dr. Hose,\nhearing that this expedition had started, and knowing that the permission\nhad been granted to the Ibans on false pretexts, and inasmuch as in\nthis matter of life and death there was no time to communicate with the\nGovernment, instantly sent swift messengers to the homes of the Leppu\nAnans, telling them to fly for their lives, and promising them protection\nif they settled on the Tinjar. It was a terrible journey for the poor\ninnocent creatures, loaded down, as they were, with all their household\neffects and retarded in their haste by the care for the women and\nchildren. Many of them, I was told, were so exhausted that they actually\ncrawled and dragged themselves on all fours down the hills which\nseparate the Rejang and Tinjar valleys.\n\nThe Ibans, consequently, found the Leppu Anan houses deserted and\nstripped of everything movable. Whereupon, not to be baulked of all\nspoils whatever, they attacked some of the friendly houses, the abodes of\nthe very people who, on their journey up-river, had cheerily and kindly\nwished them success in their head-hunting. To the Bornean a head is a\nhead, whether of friend or foe; so on this occasion the Ibans returned to\ntheir homes laden with spoils of their friends and enriched with heads\nwhich had not been on the shoulders of those against whom they had set\nout.\n\nThe Leppu Anans, in their new house, although they still harboured the\nsmall clan of Lerons who had vowed vengeance on Dr. Hose, nevertheless\nregarded Dr. Hose as their preserver, and no trouble taken in his behalf\ncould be too great. They are quiet and gentle in their manners and very\nclean in their persons and about the house. We noticed with much relief\nthat they did not throng about us, asking such inane questions the minute\nthat we had landed, as, \u2018When did you arrive?\u2019 or, when helping us to\ndisembark, \u2018Did you come in a boat?\u2019\u2014questions which are really not at\nall unusual even from the very men who have been paddling your boat all\nday long. Possibly, true etiquette demands such questions among the\nnatives themselves, who, for some occult reason, always desire their\nactual arrival and departure to pass unnoticed.\n\nThese Leppu Anans were intensely interested in my photographs, and\nliterally climbed on each other\u2019s shoulders to see them. In their anxiety\nto touch the page itself, they nearly crushed the lucky holder of the\nbook. The picture which excited their unstinted admiration is of two\nIbans bargaining for the sale of a highly prized Chinese jar; they read\nthe meaning of it at once, explaining it over and over to each other; but\nopinion was divided as to the balance of trade; some thought the owner\nwas a fool to refuse the pile of silver dollars which the purchaser was\noffering, while others contended that the man who offered so mean a sum\nfor so fine a jar must have been crazy. (When I showed the photograph to\nthe wife of the man who had posed for me as the owner, she was extremely\nindignant, protesting that I had no right to represent Angas as such a\nfool! No sensible man would ever refuse that pile of money for such a\ncommon old jar. She felt actually defrauded of all that wealth, and I am\nsure she looked on me as a thief.)\n\nAt noon the next day the Peace-party, which we had left to finish up\nthe \u2018seven\u2019 span pig at Aban Liah\u2019s, came up-river, and we all set out\ntogether on the last stage of the journey to Tama Aping Buling\u2019s.\n\nIt was an exciting day\u2019s travel; the rapids were extremely swift, and\nthe Kayans, Kenyahs, Sibops, Berawans, Leppu Anans, and Lerons became\ninextricably intermingled in forcing their canoes past dangerous rocks\nand through narrows where the water rushed with almost irresistible\npower. Every man of the large assemblage was at the highest tension of\nexcitement in anticipation of the stirring ceremonies close at hand,\nwhich after all, in the twinkling of an eye, by the merest accident, or\nby some trivial flaw in etiquette amid so large a body of hostile clans,\nmight be converted to bloody battle.\n\nWhen Tama Bulan was forced to leave us and turn back with his sick\nnephew, he provided, with usual forethought, a small pig, which was to be\nswiftly forwarded to Tama Aping Buling\u2019s in advance of the Peace-party.\nIn punctillious observance of native customs on such exalted occasions\nas the present, the pig must be sacrificed on the beach before the\nKayans and Kenyahs disembarked. We were positively assured by Aban Liah\non leaving his house, that the piglet had been sent on ahead the night\nbefore to Tama Aping Buling\u2019s house at Long Dapoi; wherefore, when the\nPeace-party arrived, everything would be ceremoniously carried out.\nOur boat, a little in advance of the others, was gliding smoothly on a\nlong stretch of quiet water just above turbulent rapids, when we were\nmet by some men in a canoe from Tama Aping Buling\u2019s; a short excited\nannouncement from them revealed to us that all was not going rightly\nup-river; accordingly, we changed to their lighter boat, and sped\nup-stream, leaving our luggage and the Peace-party to follow as they\ncould. The men who poled the canoe could talk but very little of any\nlanguage but Sibop, so we hardly knew what was amiss until we arrived at\nthe house. On the beach, we were met by Tama Aping Buling himself, almost\nin tears; before we could get fairly out of the boat, he squatted down,\nand, in a voice of despair, said, \u2018Oh, Tuan Prenta, what shall be done!\nNo pig has been sent to sacrifice when the Kayans arrive. There will\nbe war instead of peace.\u2019 It was even so. That old traitor, Aban Liah,\nhad purposely kept back Tama Bulan\u2019s pig in order that the Peace-making\nshould be a failure, and that his rival, Tama Aping Buling, should get\ninto trouble. Dr. Hose instantly turned and started down-stream to meet\nthe Kayans, and keep them down-river until Aban Liah should either\nrestore the pig or procure another and send it on ahead of them. Aban\nLiah was serenely imperturbable when accused to his face of the theft of\nthe pig, and of his plot to create trouble; but eventually Dr. Hose\u2019s\nunsparing denunciation, combined with the sullen threats of the tired\nKayans, eager for the comfortable shelter of a house for the night,\nforced him actually to leave the party, and paddle off down-river to buy\nor borrow the indispensable little pig.\n\n[Illustration: IBANS BARGAINING OVER THE SALE OF VALUABLE CHINESE JARS.\n\nTHE OFFER OF FIFTY MEXICAN DOLLARS IS TREATED WITH HAUGHTY REFUSAL. THE\nTWO MEN POSED THEMSELVES, AFTER MY SUGGESTION, FOR THE SUBJECT OF THE\nPICTURE.]\n\nThey told us afterward that at house after house he was rebuffed, and,\nalthough there were plenty of pigs everywhere, not one could he borrow,\nbeg, or steal, so universally disliked was he for his mean, tricky ways.\nNight came before he finally succeeded in procuring the sacrifice, so\nthat the wearied Kayans were forced to sleep in their canoes, or in huts\nof boughs which they built on a pebbly island in midstream, and endure\na drenching deluge of rain, illumined by such blinding lightning and\ndeafening thunder as only the Tropics know.\n\nThe house built by Tama Aping Buling stands on the north bank of the\nriver, just opposite to the mouth of the Dapoi, a large tributary. It\nis about two hundred feet from the river, on a high bank which slopes\ngradually to a wide pebbly beach. The house was only recently finished\nat that time, and had cost interminable labor; many of the piles whereon\nit was built were at least twenty inches in diameter, and supported the\nfloor fully fifteen feet from the ground. The veranda was broad and well\nfloored with wide, hewn planks, and roofed with shingles of billian wood,\nnot nailed to the rafters, but tied on with strips of rattan. One end\nof the house was not yet quite finished, and shingles only partially\ncovered it. This incomplete state was not, however, without its uses; it\nsupplied Tama Aping Buling, while showing his house to us, with a chance\nto make a remark, which, hackneyed and threadbare as it is among them,\nis always uttered apparently in the belief that it will be received with\nall the applause of a novel and brilliant idea. With a wave of his hand\ntoward the roofless rafters, Tama Aping explained, \u2018This end of the house\nis occupied by Laki Langit and his children,\u2019 which, interpreted, means,\n\u2018Grandfather Sky and his children\u2014the stars!\u2019 We had heard the witticism\nso often that it was hard to force a smile,\u2014but we did. Let him among us,\nwho, in describing \u2018full dress,\u2019 has never called it \u2018war-paint\u2019 or \u2018best\nbib and tucker,\u2019 cast the first reproach at the unsophisticated Borneans.\n\nEarly on the following morning the wee pig was sacrificed on the beach\nand there left in its gore. Such a sacrifice, when made in ratification\nof a compact, renders the flesh inedible to all participants in the\nceremony; hence the diminutive size of the pig. On the present occasion\nAban Liah\u2019s enforced pig was so extremely small, that I saw a lean and\nhungry dog seize it by the head after the sacrifice was over, and,\nslinging the body over his back, make off toward some tall grass, where\nhe probably devoured the whole carcass at one meal,\u2014possibly, at one gulp.\n\nThe sacrifice of the pig was certainly a beginning, but it did not seem\nto expedite the other ceremonies to be performed in the veranda of the\nhouse. The Kayans, never enthusiastic over this Peace-making, (which is\nnot a fraternisation, but only an agreement not to kill each other on\nunprovoked raids,) were sulking in their huts on the karangans, under the\npretext of drying themselves. All the while Tama Aping Buling and his\nclan, and the other Tinjar Chiefs and their clans, sat wearily waiting in\nthe veranda for the Kayans to appear. There were several false reports\nthat they were coming, and each time the host, Tama Aping, invariably\nalleged that most important matters needed attention in his private\nroom, and as invariably had to be dragged, trembling, from his little\ndark sleeping-box, where he was crouching, to attend to the reception of\nhis guests. One cause of Tama Aping\u2019s conduct was dread lest it should\nleak out that he had been largely instrumental in giving the Government\nthe information which eventually led to the detection of Tinggi and\nhis brother, Sidup, both of whom had been, in point of fact, at one\ntime inmates of his house; should this treachery become known, his own\npeople, even, would turn against him, and his life would not be worth a\nblack bead.\n\n[Illustration: TAMA APING BULING\u2019S HOUSE ON THE TINJAR.\n\nTHE SCENE OF THE NOTABLE PEACE-MAKING.]\n\nThe forenoon passed; the day wore on to afternoon,\u2014still no Kayans; we\nbegan to fear that they had turned back and had given up all idea of\npeace-making.\n\nJamma of the flabby, unhealthy lips, talked interminably, and his goggles\nseemed to grow bigger and his jockey cap dirtier every minute. Tama Talip\nsilently munched betel nut, and squirted the blood-red juice incessantly\nthrough a crack in the floor. Aban Liah was depressed in spirit, and\nsat sullenly twisting an extinguished cigarette between his fingers.\nWe became thoroughly wearied of the whole assemblage, and, unattended,\npaddled across the river to a grassy point where we could watch for the\ncoming of the Kayans, and, at least for awhile, get rid of the natives.\nEven this watching became intolerable, and finally we decided to go up\nthe clear Dapoi River a short distance and take a swim. Of course, this\nwas the very time through the perversity of luck, that the Kayans decided\nto go up to the house, and we, unfortunately, were not on hand. Kilup,\none of Tinggi\u2019s brothers, took it upon himself to be the leader of a\nsmall Jawa party, and did not even wait for Juman to disembark from his\ncanoe, but ran full speed down to the beach, and with his parang drawn,\u2014a\nviolation of propriety absolutely forbidden in every well-conducted\nJawa\u2014actually chopped at Juman\u2019s boat and slashed the palm-leaf covering.\nThey told us afterward that Juman behaved bravely, and sat unmoved\nin his boat,\u2014his serenity was possibly due to the knowledge that the\n\u2018snappang,\u2019 albeit with the \u2018fever-stricken engine,\u2019 was at his side,\nand that, if necessity arose, its discharge would prove fatal to some\none, either to himself or to Kilup. By the time we returned from our\nbath the excitement had subsided, but none the less, Tama Aping Buling\nremained secluded in the depths of his private apartments. Dr. Hose at\nonce summoned Kilup before him, and incontinently imposed on him a fine\nof one tawak,\u2014equivalent to thirty dollars, a really heavy fine. Kilup\nsat unmoved during his sentence, and then arose slowly and swaggered off\nto his room, where he was told to remain until sent for, under penalty of\nanother fine, or, possibly, imprisonment in the Baram Fort.\n\nThe Kayans were very naturally greatly incensed at such treatment;\ncertainly they had a right to expect a little more hospitality after\ntheir dolorous night in the soaking rain.\n\nBy way of precaution against too much zeal in the approaching sham fight,\nwe made the Tinjar people place about half-way down the veranda a high,\nsquare platform, used ordinarily as a sleeping-shelf for guests; this\nwould tend to keep the two forces apart and check too quick an onslaught.\nWhen this was done, Tama Liri was deputed to go down to the river and\nconduct the Kayans to the veranda. It is an inexcusable breach of decorum\nfor any strangers outside the house, to pass in front of a Chief\u2019s door,\nbefore ascending to the veranda; guests, therefore, from down-river\nshould enter at the down-river end of the house, and _vice vers\u00e2_. Tama\nLiri knew this as well as he knew his name; but, solely to stir up more\ntrouble, he conducted the Kayans who came from down-river to the up-river\nend of the house, which involved a direct insult to Tama Aping Buling.\nOf course, the Kayans remonstrated, but too late; and then, to retrieve\nthe insult, had to tramp almost the whole length of the house in the mud\nand slime beneath the veranda; this added fresh fuel to the fire already\nburning in their breasts.\n\nThe Lerons, Sibops, Berawans, and Leppu Anans gathered at the up-river\nend of the veranda, to await the entrance of the Kayans, and we placed\nourselves midway, so as to be on hand to moderate, if possible, too\nrealistic a sham fight.\n\nThe Kayans and Kenyahs came quietly up the notched log, and halted\nin a close crowd until the last man had fairly entered the veranda.\nStanding thus within the house of one who had always been an enemy, and\nconfronting their deadly foes, it is no wonder that they were trembling\nwith excitement; their eyes were glancing suspiciously in all directions\nto detect any signs of treachery or the sight of concealed weapons.\nSuddenly, with one impulse, they began yelling, stamping, waving their\narms, and leaping in the air. Immediately the Tinjar people joined in; in\na second the whole veranda from end to end became a perfect pandemonium\nof shrieking, frenzied, gymnastic savages. Not a step did they advance\ntoward each other, although everywhere there were furious, threatening\ngestures.\n\nThis appalling scene was kept up for fully a minute, and then the\nfrightful turbulence gradually quieted down. Dr. Hose at once seized\nJuman by the arm and led him, followed by his people, right in among\ntheir bitter enemies; then glancing round quickly to see that no one had\na weapon in hand, instantly proposed that they should all once more jump\nand stamp together, and he himself led off with a resounding stamp and\na terrific shout. Juman followed, then another and another, until, in a\ntrice, once more the house was trembling beneath them, and the rafters\nechoing; but this time friends and foes were almost shoulder to shoulder.\nThe inanity, I think, of the proceeding slowly dawned on them; the\nshouting did not last as long as before; it became more and more feeble;\nat last it ceased suddenly, and they all sat down. Little by little the\nice of mutual distrust began to thaw; here and there men who had been\nmortal foes were sitting cheek by jowl, engaged in friendly conversation.\n\nAt this stage, it was the host\u2019s clear duty to bring out his arrack; his\nguests might at once have pledged each other, and friendship might have\nbeen cemented; but Tama Aping Buling was in his sleeping-room, probably\nburied beneath a pile of mats.\n\nSpeeches were made by Jamma, Aban Liah, and Juman, but they lacked\nearnestness and cordiality, and, at their conclusion, the pigs whose\nlivers were to foretell the issue of this Peace-making and the futurity\nof the participants, were dragged into the centre of the assembly. As\neach one was brought in, it was harangued by the Dayongs, and adjured\nto tell the truth and to intercede with the Spirits to drive out all\nanimosity from the people of the two rivers. The largest pig was reserved\nas the \u2018Government\u2019s pig,\u2019 and had been selected on account of its size\nand beauty, but it did not turn out to be exactly what the Government\nwould have chosen as its fittest representative. It was an albino, with\nlack-lustre, whitish eyes and a pale, mottled snout; it lay so still\nthat I half expected it was about to cheat the sacrifice by dying a\nnatural death. Of course, it fell to Dr. Hose\u2019s lot to exhort this pig\n_ante mortem_ to proclaim truthfully _post mortem_, by infallible omens\nin its liver, whether or not the Government\u2019s course was right; but he\ngave the natives clearly to understand that, whatever the omens might\nbe, they would not in the least influence him in the management of\nGovernment affairs; and that he followed the custom merely to please\nthem. Thereupon, he prodded the pale-eyed and an\u00e6mic pig with his foot,\nto arouse its earnest attention, but no responsive grunt nor indignant\nsqueal came from that cadaverous representative of the Government; it lay\nimperturbably still and blinked. As soon as his words ceased, the pig was\ndragged to one side, its throat cut, and its liver at once dexterously\nextracted. When this organ, which proved to be unusually large, was\npassed round among the Chiefs and among those who were skilled in the\ninterpretation of auguries, it was pronounced with one accord to be in\nits every aspect most favourable; but, in an unlucky moment, just as it\nwas about to be taken away, some one, inquisitively, lifted one of the\nlobes to examine the under surface, and instantly a convulsive horror and\nshuddering recoil ran through the whole assemblage,\u2014a large, foul abscess\nwas disclosed!\n\nOnce before, on this expedition, had the natives been shocked by a\nfateful foreboding of death, and now, for a second time, in yet clearer\nterms, had this death-warrant been delivered. On the first occasion, at\nTama Liri\u2019s house, their horrified eyes had noted a deep scar, and now\nwith inexpressible dismay they beheld a corroding ulcer.\n\nDr. Hose, in solemn tones, again repeated the true interpretation of\nthe blood-curdling portent:\u2014_a faithless, scheming Chief_, who was\nsecretly hostile to the Rajah and to his people, would _very shortly\ndie a miserable, inevitable death_! Again the liver was passed round\nthe awe-stricken circle; in vain they summoned their best ingenuity in\nsuggesting a less dreadful interpretation, but it was only too clear that\nDr. Hose\u2019s words bore every impress of truth.\n\nOld Aban Liah, of whose hostility to the Government there had been such\nrecent proofs, sat a little outside the circle, and when the liver with\nits death-warrant was passed over to him, he waved it aside, and in tones\nthat reminded me vividly of Shylock, and almost in Shylock\u2019s very words,\nsaid, tremulously, \u2018Let me go away; I am not well;\u2019 and then added,\napologetically: \u2018the smell of this beastly, warm, raw flesh has made me\nill. I must go.\u2019 And he got up, with dazed looks, and went with uncertain\nsteps to his room.\n\nAn hour or two later, in the evening, some of his friends came and\nbegged me to go see him. To my surprise, I found him in a high fever\nand semi-delirious. I directed them to wrap him up warmly, to produce\na sweat, and advised them to remove him to his own home as soon as\npossible. I supposed that he would be all right in the morning, when the\neffects of the feasting at his house the day before had passed off. I\nnever dreamed that his illness would have a fatal termination.\n\nNeither Aban Liah\u2019s sudden illness, nor his absence, interfered with\nthe Peace-making. Kilup was summoned from his room, and in the presence\nof the assembled tribes he was given such a vehement rating by the\nGovernment that he probably remembers it to this hour, and he was\nfurthermore warned that even threatening language was punishable.\n\nStill no arrack was broached, nor feast spread. At the slightest noise or\nexcitement, off sped Tama Aping Buling to his room, and there remained\nin seclusion until all was again quiet. He had, in truth, more cause\nfor alarm than the others; his wife, his children, and all the women\nof the household were dependent on him for protection in any outbreak\nof hostility; his guests had to look but after their own safety; these\nguests were now peaceable, but in a flash they might become mortal foes\nin deadly conflict.\n\nOld Jamma was always to the fore, talking incessantly and making effusive\nattempts to ingratiate himself with everybody; but if all present\nshared my feelings, his thick, everted lips, and eyes distorted behind\nthose prodigious goggles, would have checked every throb of sympathy.\nFurthermore, he had unaccountably changed his jockey cap for a war-cap\nof Tiger skin, with which he fairly terrified the Kayans. A skin of the\ngreat tiger is something so terrible to many of the natives that they\ndare not even touch it; an oath bound by a tiger\u2019s tooth or tiger\u2019s skin\nis one of their most solemn pledges. The Kenyahs and Sibops are the only\ntribes who may touch a Tiger\u2019s skin with impunity.\n\nIt was not until afternoon had deepened into night that the feast and the\narrack were brought out. The roar that went up when Juman drained the\nfirst cup could have been heard certainly for a mile, and the stamping\nwas stupendous. In fact, under the weight of the three hundred jumping\nmen, the floor sagged fully six inches, and the huge piles, whereon\nthe house was built, swerved and sank deeper into the earth. Thus it\nwent on, one toast after another, and roar upon roar; then they made\nspeeches fervid with alcohol. Jamma talked rank, open treason when his\ntongue was loosened, and claimed the whole Tinjar River as a direct\ninheritance from his Uncle, Aban Jau; the Rajah had no right to be there,\nand the Government obstructed instead of helped the people. Very little\nattention, however, was paid to him, either by the assemblage, or by\nDr. Hose, a neglect which cut him deeply; he ached to be of sufficient\nimportance to receive a rebuke from the Government, but Dr. Hose merely\nreplied, \u2018We must all bear in mind the source whence these silly remarks\ncome; I think you\u2019ll all agree that they are not of the slightest\nconsequence.\u2019\n\nThe drinking, the stamping, and the shouting were kept up throughout\nthe night, and, to our great content, the Kayan guests behaved well and\nrestrained themselves within bounds. Jamma and his clan were the only\nflagrant offenders, talking treason and indulging in threats.\n\nA smell of fermented arrack, stale fumes of rank tobacco, maudlin gabble\nfrom drunken men, the snarling and yelping of dogs, the clucking and\ncackling of poultry, the wailing of children, and the crying of babies,\npervaded the world into which we awoke in Tama Aping Buling\u2019s house the\nmorning after the great Peace-making carouse.\n\nSuddenly, above all sounds, arose repeated, piercing shrieks from\nterror-stricken women, excited shouting of men, slamming of doors, and\nthe clatter of bare feet fleeing over the loose, rattling boards of the\nveranda. The master of the house flung himself, trembling, into our room\nand breathlessly announced that one of his men, overcome by the night\u2019s\ndebauch, had gone \u2018amok\u2019\u2014as he said,\u2014and, armed with parang and shield,\nhad sworn to hack in pieces all whom he met; he was now rushing from room\nto room slashing right and left at the terrified and fugitive inmates.\nTwo or three brave men had climbed to the loft above the partitions\nbetween the private rooms, and, with poles, were trying to beat down and\ndisarm the maniac and lasso him with loops of rattan.\n\nA man who runs amok both expects and desires to be killed, but endeavors\nto slaughter beforehand as many victims as possible. Dr. Hose caught\nup a long and heavy pestle used for husking rice, and we all hurried\nout in the veranda, armed with our revolvers, to assist in the capture\nof this most dangerous ruffian; and, since he desired to be killed, we\nwere quite ready to gratify him. Just as we came opposite the room from\nwhich the maniac had driven the occupants, frantic with terror, the man\nhimself rushed forth directly in front of Dr. Hose, but the latter was\nready for him with a greeting which was as well-directed and cordial\nas it was unexpected. By one waive of the long pestle, his shield was\ninstantly thrust aside, and there followed a disconcerting and most\ndemoralising prod full in the pit of the stomach. All his valiant \u2018amok\u2019\ncollapsed, and, with eyes rolling in his head, he staggered back through\nthe doorway and plumped down, with a flop, on the floor. Instantly the\nmen overhead, with their rattan loops, had him encircled round the waist,\nand a vigorous pull suspended him in mid-air from a cross-beam; with\ntheir poles they knocked the weapons from his hands, and then, like a\nspider with a fly, they had him quickly swathed with rattans and bound\nhand and foot. The next thing was to take him to his own room, and leave\nhim thus confined until he had recovered his senses. But while they were\ncarrying him thither, the ever-officious, and withal treacherous, Jamma,\nstaggered impetuously forward, and, vehemently insisting that the maniac\nshould be set free, actually began to grapple with the carriers. In a\ntwinkling, his wrist was seized by Dr. Hose, and he was whirled round;\nthen, after executing an astonishing and dizzy pirouette, he lost his\nbalance and went skimming along the floor, until, with a reverberating\nthump, his head struck the wall, and he lay motionless. Some friends ran\nto him and propped him up. He made no attempt to rise, but only blinked\nhis bloodshot eyes, denuded for once of the goggles, and kept gasping,\npanting forth: \u2018Why did the Government strike me? Why did the Government\nstrike me?\u2019 Finding his question unanswered, he lapsed into silence, and\nput in practice the ingenious idea of feigning death, wherein he was much\nhelped by a sudden rush of alcoholic fumes to his head. His nephew and a\nfew devoted friends lost not an instant\u2019s time in laying out the corpse,\nand, seated beside the limp body, immediately struck up a funeral wail\nover his sad, untimely demise. It really seemed possible that the man\nmight be dead, so, at Dr. Hose\u2019s request, I examined him, but no trace of\ninjury could I find on the corpse but a severe, darkly coloured bruise\non its forehead; when, however, this bruise was bathed with arnica, I\nnoticed that it wholly disappeared, and the discoloration was transferred\nto the absorbent cotton, and that the skin presented an unbroken surface.\nWhen I attempted to examine his eyes, the wrinkled resistance of the lids\nshowed me his inflexible determination to remain dead.\n\nDisgusted with the whole household, we had our luggage incontinently\ncarried down to the boats; then, after speeding the Kayans and Kenyahs,\nnow in a benign and peaceful mood, on their homeward journey, the Great,\nHistoric, Ceremonial Peace-making came to an end. It had been a veritable\nand a notable success throughout; old scores had been settled by exchange\nof Usut and by the Jawa, and return visits had been planned; barring Aban\nLiah\u2019s antagonism and illness, Kilup\u2019s bad behavior, and the incident\nwith Jamma just related, everything had gone off more smoothly than\nwe had any reason to expect, considering the undisciplined, grown-up\nchildren with whom we had to deal. We were, nevertheless, truly glad to\nbe rid of the responsibility of a party so large, and of material so\ninflammable.\n\nWe decided to continue our journey, and ascend the Dapoi River, to\nvisit some Punans,\u2014a nomadic tribe, who had recently encamped near the\nhead-waters of the stream.\n\nJust as we were pushing off in our canoe, a wild figure, with arms\nwaving, and face distorted with malignant rage, dashed down the log-walk\nto the beach; there it turned and faced the house. It was Jamma, the\ncorpse. Snatching off his war-cap of Tiger skin, he waved it, backward\nand forward above his head with frantic gestures, toward the house. We\ndid not care to wait for the upshot of these remarkable antics, but\npursued our tranquil course up the Dapoi, inhaling peace and repose\nbeneath the over-arching boughs festooned with ferns and orchids.\n\n[Illustration: SIBOP WOMEN AT THE HOUSE OF TAMA BALAN DENG.]\n\nLate in the afternoon, we landed at the house of Tama Balan Deng, a Sibop\nChief, who received us kindly, and most hospitably gave up to us his own\nroom, wherein throughout every minute of the entire night we were the\nobjects of awestruck curiosity to his whole household, the larger part\nof whom had never before seen a white man; they sat immovably huddled\ntogether at one side of the room, and were the last objects that we\nsaw on going to sleep, and when we awoke at dawn they were noiselessly\ncreeping away.\n\nEarly in the day, to our surprise, Tama Aping Buling arrived in his\ncanoe, in a state of painful excitement over Jamma\u2019s conduct of the day\nbefore, whose antics were now explained. As soon as we had left, the\nold rascal, tired of being a corpse, fell into a violent rage with the\nuniverse, and had stormed down to the beach, and there had cursed with\nhis awful Tiger skin cap every bit of timber in the house, together with\nall its inmates, big and little, old and young, and all the Kayans, root\nand branch, who had been in it, and ended up with the white men who had\nhalf-killed him. The house, as I said above, had just been built, at a\ncost of infinite labor and great expense; but after such a blood-curdling\ncurse had been launched at it, to Tama Aping Buling\u2019s superstitious mind,\nthe domicile was for ever banned and ruined. The object of the poor\nfellow\u2019s hurried visit was to ask Dr. Hose if he did not think it best\nthat the whole structure should be immediately destroyed; it took much\nserious argument from Dr. Hose to dissuade the disconsolate Tama Aping\nfrom the determination to empty his house of all movables and then set\nfire to it.\n\nThis account of Jamma\u2019s malevolence did not exhaust Tama Aping\u2019s budget.\nHe brought the latest news of Aban Liah, whom we had last seen stricken\ndown by the dreadful omen in the pig\u2019s liver. The most skilful Dayongs\nhad been summoned to keep the soul of the old Berawan Chief from wholly\ndeserting his body, and, at last reports, they had grave doubts as to\ntheir success in finding whither it had temporarily flown, unless several\nadditional parang blades and three or four more bolts of cloth were given\nto them, wherewith they could bribe the Spirits who were luring far away\nthe soul of Aban Liah; they were sorely afraid that, in spite of all\ntheir exertions, the soul would evade them and slip off to Bulun Matai.\nWe despatched the necessary spiritual bribes, and then continued our\njourney to the home of the Punans.\n\nFour days afterward, when we left the Dapoi and again turned into the\nTinjar, we stopped at the scene of the Great Peace making, and there we\nlearned the end of Aban Liah\u2019s tragic story. The fate foretold so clearly\nby the liver of the Government\u2019s albino pig had been fulfilled. The\nconscience-stricken soul of the faithless Aban Liah had, indeed, departed\nto the Fields of the Dead. From the moment that he saw that ulcerous\nliver, and realized its plain indication to himself he sickened, became\ndelirious, and within forty-eight hours was dead!\n\nThere happened to be in one of the boats of our party an old woman, a\ndistant relative of Aban Liah, and when the news of his death was first\nshouted to us from a boat which we met on the river, this old creature\nwithdrew a short distance from the bank, and, squatting down on the\nsand, proceeded to emit a solo of heart-rending wails for the dead,\nrehearsing his good qualities in a jerky and descending chromatic scale,\nbeginning at high C and ending when her breath gave out; then, after a\ndeep inspiration, the wailing strain was resumed. All the while she was\nglancing around to see the effect it had upon us, and also to see what\nwas going on up and down the river while she was busy in sorrowing for\nthe defunct; she knew, quite as well as we, what a thorough-paced old\nrascal he was, and how far better it was for all his household that he\nwas dead and out of the way. When she had reeled off a due amount of\nprofound sorrow, she re-embarked, and was as chatty and gay as possible\nuntil we reached the dead Chief\u2019s house; there it behooved her to roar\nagain for appearance\u2019s sake. We went up to the house of mourning to pay\nour respects to the household and be witness to their grief. At the\nhour of our arrival, there happened to be a lull in the wailing, but\nthe appearance of visitors of such august importance at once demanded a\nresumption, not only of gong-beating, but also of the recitation of the\nestimable, noble character of the departed. The obtrusive old Jamma was\nagain to the fore, all animosity forgotten in his eagerness to display\nhis extreme grief; out of respect for the dead he had discarded his\njockey cap and goggles. Several other Chiefs from neighbouring houses and\nourselves were led to places of honor in front of the bier, whereon lay\nAban Liah, sealed up in a coffin hewn out of Durian wood. The bier was\ndraped with some cotton cloth, which we recognized as that which we had\nsent as a bribe to the Spirits, and on posts at the four corners were\nhung the Chief\u2019s most valuable beads, his parang, shield, and spear,\nand a number of musical instruments; it was expected that he would hold\na high position among the minstrels and warriors in Bulun Matai. As soon\nas the chief men had conducted us to our places, they squatted beside us,\nand, covering their faces with their hands to hide the scalding tears\nthat did not flow, they began to moan and groan in a style which was,\nperhaps, quite as symbolical to them of true sorrow as black crape and\nnodding plumes are to us.\n\nAt this moment, the women of the dead man\u2019s immediate family issued from\nhis private room, clad in high-pointed yellow hoods of bark-cloth, which\nflowing down enveloped them from head to foot; they gathered about the\nhead of the coffin, and wailed to the accompaniment of several deep-toned\ngongs. This same rite had been repeated for every visitor who had come\nto the Chief\u2019s house since his death; they were in good practice. All\nmembers of the household were in their dirtiest and most worn-out\nhabiliments; every ornament had been discarded; girdles of beads had\nbeen replaced by belts of twisted rattan, and weights made of pebbles\nwrapped in bark-cloth had been substituted for metal ear-rings; many\nof the men and some of the women had smeared themselves with soot from\nthe cooking-pots, and no one had bathed in the river since the demise\nof the Chief, four or five days before. They were certainly repulsive\nin appearance. This wailing lasted but a scant five minutes, and then\nthe women retired, and the men withdrew their hands from their eyes; of\ncourse, not a tear had been shed. With the elasticity of youth,\u2014for they\nare all mere children,\u2014they were at once interested in hearing of the\nexpedition we were about to make to the summit of a mountain near by, and\nwere laughing and joking over the Ghosts and Sprites that we were sure to\nmeet in that mysterious moss-jungle continually shrouded in mists.\n\nIt is the custom among the Berawans to keep a corpse in the house for\nseveral months, varying the length of time in accordance with the rank or\nwealth of the deceased; sometimes the body may have to remain unburied\nuntil after the harvest. On the third or fourth day after death, the body\nis squeezed into a large jar, which has been carefully cut apart at its\nlargest diameter, so that the body does not have to be forced through\nthe narrow neck. It is in the lower half that the corpse is placed in a\ncramped, squatting position; the upper half is then fitted on tightly,\nand the crack sealed up with resinous gum. The jar is then placed in a\ncorner of the veranda, and a pipe of hollow bamboo is inserted to drain\noff to the ground below the fluids resulting from decomposition. It\noccasionally happens that gases accumulate inside the jar, and cannot\nescape through the tube, owing to a stoppage, and then an explosion\nfollows.\n\nThe Berawans believe that shortly after death the spirits of the dead\nreturn from Bulun Matai, to see that their relatives and friends are\ndisplaying the due amount of grief by performing the proper ceremonies.\nShould a spirit find that it has been neglected and forgotten, it curses\nthe culprits, and they become blind, deaf, or lame. If all has been done\nto show befitting grief and respect,\u2014if the mourners have been on a raid\nand secured a nice head wherewith to decorate the grave or the household\nhearth,\u2014then the spirit retires to the nether world, never again to\nreturn.\n\nIn former days, on the death of any influential Chief, if his people were\neither too lazy or too cowardly to go head-hunting, a male or female\nslave was purchased and sacrificed in honor of the dead. From near and\nfar, friends were invited to take part in the high ceremony. When the\npoor wretch of a slave was thrust into a cage of bamboo and rattan, he\nknew perfectly well the death by torture to which he was destined. In\nthis cage he was confined for a week or more, until all the guests had\nassembled and a feast was prepared. On the appointed day, after every\none had feasted and a blood-thirsty instinct had been stimulated to a\nhigh pitch by arrack, each one in turn thrust a spear into the slave. No\none was allowed to give a fatal thrust until every one to the last man\nhad felt the delight of drawing blood from living, human flesh. We were\ntold by the Berawans that the slaves often survived six or seven hundred\nwounds, until death from loss of blood set them free. The corpse of the\nvictim was then taken to the grave of the Chief, and the head cut off and\nplaced on a pole overhanging the grave. Frequently, some of the guests\nworked themselves into such a blood-thirsty frenzy that they bit pieces\nfrom the body, and were vehemently applauded when they swallowed the raw\nmorsel at a gulp.\n\nIt is, probably, in conformity with the same idea of a head-hunt in\nhonor of the memory of the deceased, that the tribe of Malanaus, on their\nreturn from a burial, engage in a mock battle with those who remained\nbehind to guard the house, and throw at them mud and imitation javelins\nmade of light pith.\n\nThe body of Aban Liah, although a Berawan, was not placed in a jar, but,\nas I have said, in a coffin, and would be kept in the house, so they told\nus, for three months, until the end of the harvest. The people darkly\nhinted at the absolute necessity of their obtaining, at that time, a\nfresh human head. But Dr. Hose warned them of the sure consequences\nfollowing every violation of the solemn compact and rites of peace which\nthey had just concluded.\n\nWe left them in their grief, and set out on our trip to the summit of Mt.\nDulit, one of the lofty range that forms the watershed between the Rejang\nand the Baram Rivers. When we turned into the little stream that flows\ndown the side of the mountain, we noticed lying on one of the banks the\nhuge, stately Durian tree, (worth a livelihood to a whole household on\naccount of its much-prized fruit,) which had been already cut down just\nto make a monumental support for the coffin of the good-for-nothing old\nAban Liah. The giant pole was to be elaborately carved and painted, and,\nwhen the Chief\u2019s body was ready to be placed in position, this huge trunk\nwould be erected near the bank of the river, a little below his house.\n\nWhatever might have been its origin, it is not now easy to determine\nwhat emotion it is which prompts the Borneans to decorate elaborately\nthe depositories of their dead; at first glance, it seems as if it must\nbe affectionate remembrance and a devotion to the habitation of the soul\neven after the soul has left it. But, certainly among the Borneans,\ndemonstrative affection is, I should say, an exceedingly rare trait;\ntheir lives are almost as purely individual and selfish as are the\nexamples Nature sets before them at every turn in the jungle. During\nthe time that a child is still nursing at the mother\u2019s breast, there is\nthat instinctive, protective parental affection observable in all mating\nanimals; but after the child is weaned and is able to toddle, it is\nallowed to ramble pretty much where it will, and to take its educational\nbumps and tumbles without parental worry. Mother Nature provides the\nonly clothes it wears, and, after her own healing, scarifying fashion,\ndarns and patches the rents and tears that they may receive. Among the\nyoung boys and girls there is a sort of playmate affection, whenever\nself-sacrifice is not necessary, and where the one who plans the game or\nsport always expects to be and is the principal player. Between adults,\nbe they the nearest of kin or be they even lovers, I think I am safe in\nsaying that there is no such thing as unselfish love; a youth would never\nthink of resigning a comfortable place in a boat to his father, or to his\nmother, or to his sister, or even to his sweetheart. When a man comes\nback from a long, and perhaps dangerous, expedition, he does not fall\ninto the arms of his family amid tears of joy and welcome; but he walks\nup the notched log and stalks along the public veranda, looking neither\nto the right nor to the left until he deposits his burden opposite his\nown door, and there he sits down, lights a cigarette, and tries to act\nand look as if he had just come in from the rice-field after a day\u2019s\nwork.[14] There is not a greeting of any kind whatsoever exchanged on\neither side; but after a while, and little by little, an admiring group\nof men and boys gather round, and slowly he unbends, telling scraps of\nnews about friends or foes in the country whence he is come, until at\nlast he is haranguing the people and acting \u2018Sir Oracle\u2019 in the centre\nof a circle of gaping mouths and unwinking eyes. It is the same were he\nabout to start off on an expedition; no kerchiefs are waved to him nor\ndo eyes stream with tears as his canoe pushes off from the shore; he\ngoes down to the boat with his parcels in just the same matter-of-fact\nmanner as if he were only going to cross the river for fire-wood. I\nhave seen Bornean mothers, fathers, and sweethearts, part from those\nwho ought to have been dear to them, and who were about to set out on\ndistant expeditions of a peaceful nature, or on long war expeditions of a\ndangerous nature, but I remember only one solitary instance where there\nwere any tears or the slightest show of reluctance at parting; that one\ninstance was the parting of a sister from a brother who had come over on\na visit to the house into which she had married quite recently. The woman\nin this case did really show a downright love for her snaggle-toothed and\nhideous brother; she hung upon his neck, sobbing and wailing, trying her\nbest to hold him back, and pleading with him not to go; he patted her on\nthe shoulder, seemed very self-conscious and exceedingly bored; finally,\nextricating himself rather rudely from her arms, he stalked toward the\nnotched log and descended, looking straight in front of him. Possibly it\nwas, on the woman\u2019s part, more homesickness than love for her brother.\nFrom the Arctics to the Tropics, be it ever so humdrum, there\u2019s no place\nlike home.\n\n[Illustration: GRAVE OF THE WIFE OF ORANG KAYA TEMANGANG LAWI.\n\nTHE CORPSE WAS PLACED IN A SQUATTING POSITION IN A DEEP PIT, HOLLOWED OUT\nAT THE UPPER END OF THE COLUMN AND COVERED OVER WITH A LARGE TRIANGULAR\nSLAB OF WOOD, CUT FROM THE ROOT OF A BUTTRESS TREE. THE ORNAMENTATION IS\nCOMPOSED OF WHITE CHINA BOWLS AND PLATES, FASTENED ON WITH GUTTA-PERCHA]\n\nAmong certain tribes, the body of a Chief swathed in cloths is placed\nwithin the upper end of a tree trunk hollowed out for the purpose, and\na large slab of wood cut from a \u2018buttress tree\u2019 is fastened on top. The\nphotograph, on the opposite page, is that of the grave of a Chief\u2019s\nwife, and I am sure that in its erection and ornamentation no jot of\naffection was felt by the husband, Temangang Lawi, than whom no more\nheartless old head-hunter, and slayer of women and children, exists in\nBorneo. His only idea in spending so much time and money on the grave of\nhis wife was his own glorification. The white spots on the column are\nchina bowls and saucers stuck on with damar gum; the flags and streamers\non top are strips of white and red cloth, possibly to keep off birds of\nprey; possibly a remnant of the Mongolian idea that anything moving and\nfluttering in the wind attracts or distracts the attention of the Spirits.\n\nAgain, other tribes enclose their dead in coffins which are placed in\nminiature houses on the top of high poles, sometimes on single poles,\nagain on two or even four poles. These little houses are decorated with\nopen-work carving along the ridge-pole and down the angles of the roof,\nand with painting on the sides. Not infrequently small wooden figures of\nmen are placed standing on the roof or climbing up the poles; possibly,\nthese are effigies of the slaves which in former times were sacrificed at\nthe burial.\n\nNatural surroundings and the habitations of the living have, of course, a\ngreat influence on the methods of disposing of the dead. In mountainous,\nstony districts, the primitive form of burial is apt to be in cairns or\nin caves; in lowlands, where land is swampy, burial in trees, out of the\nway of beasts of prey, is adopted. In those districts of Borneo where\nthe jungle is so dense that it is well-nigh impossible to dig a grave\nthrough the impenetrable, interlocking roots of trees, a burial on poles\nfollows of necessity. Where the river-banks are constantly changing with\nevery freshet, burial in such soft soil would not be permanent. I think,\ntherefore, that it is more than likely that burial on high pedestals\nwas, in the first instance, a result of natural surroundings, and the\nelaborate decorations are for the glorification of the living, and not\nfor the dead. In Borneo, there are no carnivorous animals to dig up\nbodies, but it is by no means unknown that men exceedingly anxious to win\nadmiration as head-hunters obtain from graves the coveted prize, be it\nof friend or of foe; therefore, the more inaccessible the body, the less\nis the likelihood that the market for heads will become over-stocked. In\nthe Naga Hills of Eastern Assam, where the natives live in communities\nmuch like the Borneans, some of the tribes bury their dead in the village\nstreets; others dig graves just outside the door of the house, or, when\nthe body is perhaps that of a young unmarried girl or a child, the grave\nis made even inside the door. There was I acknowledge, much pathos in the\nexplanation once given to me by a Naga, whose child was buried inside his\nhouse, that if his little girl were buried out in the jungle or under\nthe open sky, she would be \u2018very much frightened at night.\u2019 The simple\nand unostentatious mounds made by the Nagas over their dead, bear more\nevidence, I think, of their affection than do the gaudily decorated tombs\nerected by the tribes of Borneo, and yet in their daily lives the Nagas\nare not one whit more demonstrative than the Borneans.\n\nWhen, after two days of hard climbing through virgin jungle, we reached\nthe topmost peak of Dulit, which is almost exactly five thousand feet\nhigh, dense clouds shut off our view of the valley below, but the last\nrays of the sun were slanting through endless aisles and marvellous\nrecesses of emerald moss, and from far below, and beneath the clouds,\ncame the dull booming of a deep-toned tawak from the house of the dead\nAban Liah, announcing fresh mourners at his coffin.\n\nThe great Peace-party had at least brought peace to that scheming,\nturbulent old soul, whose body now rests in the valley of the Tinjar.\n\n[Illustration: THE MOSS-COVERED JUNGLE ON THE SUMMIT OF MT. DULIT.\n\nSPHAGNOUS MOSS AND OVERGROWN LYCOPODIUMS COVER THE GROUND AND ENVELOPE\nEVERY TWIG AND BRANCH, TRANSFORMING THE JUNGLE INTO A LABYRINTH OF ALLEYS\nAND GROTTOS, DRIPPING WITH MOISTURE AND LIT BY FLECKS OF SUNLIGHT, WHICH,\nFALLING UPON THE SPARKLING DROPS, ILLUMINE THESE SILENT DEPTHS WITH A\nSOFT, GREEN LIGHT.]\n\nOn the opposite page is a photograph taken on the summit of Mt. Dulit.\nThe heavy drapery which covers every tree and branch, almost every leaf,\nis a sphagnous moss, breast-high and many feet in thickness. I beseech\nthe reader to summon to his memory the most vivid, emerald green he has\never beheld; and then intensify it by a cloudless, tropical sun, at high\nnoon; and then, in addition to this, let every burnished leaflet glow and\nsparkle with myriads of iridescent drops fed by the warm, heavy mists\nwhich constantly sweep over the mountain.\n\nNo words can describe the endless shades of \u2018greenth\u2019 which are revealed\nin the vistas formed by overhanging masses, where here and there the rays\nof the sun pierce the cavernous recesses; of which, most assuredly, this\nis the first photograph that has ever been taken.\n\n\n\n\n_PERSONAL EMBELLISHMENT_\n\n\nEarly in the morning of the third day of our journey up the Baram,\nto visit Tama Bulan, far in the interior of Borneo, we stopped at a\nlong-house, and as I saw the women descend on their errand to the river\nfor water I was utterly amazed at their costume, and rubbed my eyes to\nmake sure I was not dreaming. I looked and rubbed, and rubbed and looked!\nIt was no illusion! The women who were descending the long notched logs\nto the river\u2019s edge wore on their thighs and legs beautiful blue silk\n_tricots_ or \u2018tights,\u2019 of an elaborate open-work pattern! and on their\nhands and forearms delicate black silk mits! I was not prepared for this\nelegant toilette in the Jungle, and my bewildering amazement continued\nuntil, on nearer inspection, I found that the airy tracery which I had\nmistaken for silken tights was tattooing.\n\nI will not enter on any discussion of the origin or purpose of\ntattooing:\u2014whether or not it began in the mark which God set on Cain\nafter the killing of Abel, or as to its religious, or tribal, or social\npurposes, but will simply set forth the customs in regard to it as I\nobserved them among the Kayans and Kenyahs, the patterns, and the mode\nof performing it. Inasmuch as the details will be dry and extremely\nuninteresting, and, in reference to the patterns, given with minuteness,\nbecause these patterns are in their general features almost immutable\nand are supposed to be symbolic, I would advise my readers to skip the\nfollowing pages, and examine only the photographs, merely premising that,\nsince Nature has inscribed at the entrance to the Torrid Zone, \u2018All\nclothes abandon, ye who enter here,\u2019 I fancy no one will dispute that, as\na substitution for clothes, pervasive tattooing provides a device both\nattractive and modest.\n\n[Illustration: BATU\u2014YOUNGEST SON OF THE KAYAN CHIEF OYONG LUHAT.\n\nHIS TATTOOING IS CHARACTERISTIC OF THE KAYANS OF THE BARAM DISTRICT,\nEXCEPT THAT HIS HANDS DO NOT BEAR THE MARKS DENOTING A SUCCESSFUL\nHEAD-HUNTER; THE TIGER-CAT\u2019S TEETH IN HIS EARS SHOW, HOWEVER, THAT HE HAS\nBEEN ON HEAD-HUNTING EXPEDITIONS AND HAS ATTAINED THE RANK OF A WARRIOR.\nAFTER THE EAR HAS BEEN STRETCHED TO THE DESIRED LENGTH, ONE SMALL\nCOPPER RING IS USUALLY ALL THAT IS WORN, MERELY TO KEEP THE LOBE FROM\nCONTRACTING. THE BANDS BELOW HIS KNEES ARE OF FINELY BRAIDED FERN-ROOT,\nAND ARE KNOWN AS \u2018UNUS\u2019; OCCASIONALLY THEY ARE OF STRIPS OF RATTAN BOUND\nWITH BRASS WIRE. UNUS ARE UNIVERSALLY WORN BY THE MEN, AND THEY THINK\nTHAT WITHOUT THEM A MAN LOOKS EXCEEDINGLY NAKED.]\n\nThe tattoo-marks on the Kayan men are small in size, and confined to\ncertain portions of the body. There are only four or five, and they\nare placed on the thighs either in front, below the groin, or on the\nouter surface, just below the hip-joint, and on the flexor surface\nof the forearm. The designs consist of extremely conventionalised\nrepresentations of \u2018dogs,\u2019 \u2018scorpions,\u2019 and the \u2018head of a prawn;\u2019 these\nare the native names given to the different patterns; in none of them is\nit possible to recognise the animal after which it is named.\n\nProfessor Alfred C. Haddon, whose opinion commands all respect,\nhas expressed to me the extremely ingenious explanation, that,\nnotwithstanding the native names, all these patterns represent the head\nof a dog. To this I modestly and most humbly demur, and incline to the\nbelief that it is rather the head of that animal which enters so largely\ninto all their ceremonials, namely, the pig. Dogs, on the other hand, are\ntreated by all Borneans uniformly with great contempt. It may be noted,\nfurthermore, that this same pattern, whatever be its origin, enters into\nall Kayan decoration, whether of doors, of beams, of implements, of\nbead-work, or of graves.\n\nThe patterns are selected purely according to fancy, and, as far as I\ncould ascertain, serve solely as personal embellishment. The only mark\nwhich is really a male distinction is placed on the back of the hands\nand fingers after a man has taken a head. The designs on the hands of\nthese men are always very indistinct, owing to the constant exposure and\nrough treatment to which the tattooing is necessarily subjected before\nit is thoroughly healed; hence the lines become faint and merge into one\nanother, so that the appearance of a head-hunter\u2019s hands reminds one\nforcibly of Edward Lear\u2019s nonsensical Jumblies, whose \u2018heads were green\nand their hands were blue, and they went to sea in a sieve.\u2019 I never saw\na head-hunter\u2019s hands that were freshly tattooed, nor did I ever see the\nstamps wherewith these designs are marked out. I am, therefore, unable to\ngive a description of these important marks further than that the backs\nof the hands appear to be covered with narrow parallel lines running\ntransversely, and the knuckles and their interspaces are covered with\ntriangles with base and apex alternating; on the joints of the fingers\nare oblong patches of solid black.\n\nThe tattooing on the men, except, of course, the badge of a head-hunter,\nis done at about the age of puberty. It is not at all a ceremony; the\nyouth himself decides when it shall be done and selects the pattern.\nIn many tribes allied to the Kayans, in the Dutch possessions in South\nBorneo, some of the men are far more elaborately tattooed than the Kayans\nand Kenyahs of Sarawak, and extend the tattooing to the chest and back,\nand even to the cheeks and neck; but these elaborately tattooed men are\nthe exceptions and not the rule in their tribe, and the marks are by no\nmeans as characteristic as are the \u2018dog,\u2019 \u2018scorpion,\u2019 and \u2018prawn\u2019 of the\nBaram Kayans. The Dayaks, or, properly speaking, the Ibans (the name\n_Dayak_ is a mere Malay name, meaning \u2018up-river people,\u2019 and never used\nby the natives themselves to whom it is applied) tattoo on the wrists,\nforearms, chest, neck, and thighs, but never in large designs. On the\nchest, and on the point of the shoulder, they bear many-pointed stars,\nwith a spiral sometimes double and interlocking in the centre. On the\nthroat I have often observed narrow zig-zag lines connecting two designs\nlike the escapement wheel of a watch. The zig-zag lines, they said,\nrepresent chains, but why a chain should be appropriate for the neck\nthey did not say. The stars on the chest and shoulder, some maintained,\nrepresent flowers; others said they were silver dollars. With the\nexception of the few links of chain on the front of the throat, they do\nnot seem to aim at the representation of ornaments, such as necklaces,\nbracelets, anklets, etc. In addition to these marks on the chest, arms,\nand neck, a very common position for a small design is directly on the\nprominent end of the ulna at the wrist; almost every Iban has over this\nprominence a small star, or a wheel-like design, with radii extending\nbeyond the circumference.\n\nFar more elaborate, on the contrary, is the tattooing of Kayan women,\nwhich, in the case of married women, invariably covers the thighs, legs,\nforearms, hands, and feet.\n\nOn the arms, it extends from the second joint of the fingers, (whereon is\na simple black patch about a half inch square,) to just a little below\nthe bend of the elbow. The knuckles and intervening hollows are decorated\nwith a row of solid black triangles with base and point alternating; on\nthe back of the hand are four small ovals surrounded by five concentric\novals, the outer four merging into the contiguous series, so that the\nupper and lower arcs form merely wavy lines. This row of concentric\novals is enclosed in a border of five lines, following the margin of the\nback of the hand below the knuckles to the wrist.\n\n[Illustration: TATTOO DESIGNS ON THE FOREARMS OF KAYAN AND KENYAH WOMEN\nCOPIED FROM THE ARM OF A WOMAN IN TAMA BULAN\u2019S HOUSEHOLD.]\n\n[Illustration: TATTOO DESIGNS USED BY IBANS OF THE REJANG AND BY KENYAHS\nOF THE BARAM.\n\n   1. IBAN. \u2018KALA,\u2019 THE SCORPION,\u2014ON THE OUTERSIDE OF THE THIGH.\n   2. \u201d \u2018TAIA GASING,\u2019 THE COTTON SPINNER,\u2014ON THE ULNAR SIDE OF THE\n        WRIST, EXTENDING UP THE ARM.\n   3. \u201d ON THE FRONT OF THE THROAT.\n   4. \u201d ON THE FRONT OF THE THROAT.\n   5. \u201d \u2018KALA,\u2019 THE SCORPION,\u2014ON THE OUTERSIDE OF THE THIGH.\n   6. \u201d \u2018BUAH ANDU,\u2019 THE ANDU (?) FRUIT,\u2014ON THE SHOULDER IN FRONT.\n   7. \u201d \u2018TALI SABIT,\u2019\u2014ALONG THE RIBS.\n   8. KENYAH. \u2018ASU,\u2019 THE DOG,\u2014ON THE FOREARM.\n   9. \u201d \u2018KALA ASU,\u2019 THE SCORPION DOG,\u2014ON THE FOREARM.\n  10. IBAN. \u2018BUAH ANDU,\u2019\u2014ON THE SHOULDER IN FRONT.\n  11. \u201d \u2018LUKUT,\u2019\u2014ON THE POINT OF THE SHOULDER.\n  12. \u201d \u2018TANDAN BUAH,\u2019 THE TANDAN (?) FRUIT,\u2014ON THE CHEST.\n  13. KENYAH. ON THE BACK AND FRONT OF A WOMAN\u2019S FOREARM.\n  14. IBAN. \u2018BUNGA TRONG,\u2019 THE TRONG (?) FLOWER,\u2014ON THE SHOULDER.\n  15. KENYAH. \u2018KALA ASU,\u2019\u2014ON THE FOREARM OR THIGH.\n  16. IBAN. \u2018RINGGIT SALILANG,\u2019\u2014ON THE CHEST OR BREASTS.]\n\nOn the back of the wrist is another row of four concentric ovals; above\nthese, nine narrow lines and then two rows of five concentric ovals\nalternating with bands composed of five narrow lines. Above these, again,\nare intertwining zig-zags and scrolls composed of seven lines; this\npattern, they told me, represents the root of the Tuba-plant, which is\nused in drugging, or poisoning, the water to get fish. The concentric\novals, so they say, are pictures of the moon. It is barely possible that\nan explanation of this frequent figure of the moon is to be found in a\nremark made to me by a tattooer, that when a woman died and passed to\nthe next life, \u2018her tattooing becomes luminous like a fire-fly\u2019s light,\nand that without it she would wander in total darkness.\u2019 Above the Tuba\npattern are eleven, sometimes more, finely waving lines completely\nencircling the arm, like rings. From these rings to the wrist, along both\nsides of the arm, is a narrow recurrent line making four laps on itself,\nand dividing the patterns on the flexor and extensor surfaces of the arm.\n\nOn the flexor surface of the arm, the pattern begins at the wrist with a\nrow of triangles like those on the knuckles; then a band of narrow lines\nand two large concentric moons; above these, a large triangle whose sides\nand base are composed of seven narrow, parallel lines,\u2014this represents\nthe spring bow-piece, affixed to a canoe when shooting rapids; above\nthis, two more large moons and then the band of rings around the arm.\n\nThese patterns vary to a slight extent in different households, but the\nmain features are always present; the concentric ovals may be replaced by\na spiral coil surrounded by radiating lines; or the twists and zig-zags\nof the Tuba-root may be arranged according to the artistic ability of the\noperator. The concentric moons are, however, considered a higher grade of\nwork than the spiral coils.\n\nThe pattern on the thighs extends externally from the level of the\nhip-joint to the calf of the leg; it consists of four panels, each\nenclosed in a border of five delicate and parallel lines. At the top of\nthese panels are conventionalised designs of \u2018scorpions,\u2019 of \u2018dogs,\u2019 or\nof the \u2018heads of prawns;\u2019 at least they closely resemble these patterns\nin the tattooing of the men. Beneath these, are small Tuba-root designs,\nand then a chain of interlocking diamonds, whereof the smaller and\nunderlying diamonds have their vertical apices terminating in little\nhooks and curves; these, they assert, represent a creeping vine with\nhooked tendrils, like many of the palms and rattans. Round the calf is\na series of rings, sixteen, more or less, in number, which completely\nencircle the leg like the rings on the forearm. Directly down the back\nof the thigh, from the fold of the gluteus muscle to the rings on the\ncalf of the leg, a strip about an inch wide is left blank; this is an\ninvariable feature, but they could give me no explicit explanation\nof its meaning. Dr. Hose expressed to me his belief that the natives\nconsidered this space to be necessary in order that the \u2018blood might run\nup and down.\u2019 On several occasions I tried to verify this interesting\nexplanation, sedulously avoiding all leading questions, but always failed\nto elicit satisfactory answers. It would be remarkable should it prove\nthat they knew anything about the circulation of the blood. As far as\nmy observation goes, even the most experienced old Dayong, who, as an\n_haruspex_, must cut up, yearly, hundreds of pigs and fowls and examine\ntheir internal organs, has not the slightest accurate knowledge of the\nfunction of any organ, not even of the heart. By one tattooer I was\nassured that if this space were not left unmolested the leg would swell\nexcessively and the tattooing prove a failure. It is not impossible that\nshe had herein found the true reason for this \u2018safety valve,\u2019 as it\nwere, of healthy skin. When a limb is girdled with tattooing, done under\nsuch septic conditions as always obtain in Borneo, the inflammation and\nswelling are very considerable; the skin becomes tense and non-elastic,\nand if there be no healthy area of elastic skin whereby to relieve\ntension, consequences might prove serious.\n\nThe markings on the feet are plain, broad stripes running from the\nbend of the ankle in front, over the dorsum of the foot, following\nthe metatarsal bones to the toes; these stripes are interrupted once,\ndividing off the upper third over the instep. There is also an oblong\npatch of black on the second joint of each toe.\n\n[Illustration: TATTOOING ON THE FOREARMS AND FEET OF A KENYAH WOMAN.]\n\nThe persistence of the Tuba-root design in all of these patterns is,\npossibly, due to the fact that Tuba-fishing is considered more or less a\nfeminine sport, although men participate in it and do the greater part\nof the work; nevertheless, it is the only sport wherein women join, and\nit is always a picnic and jollification.\n\nThe conjecture may be hazarded that the bands of rings close to the elbow\nand around the calf of the leg may possibly represent the \u2018Unus,\u2019 or\nrings of braided fern-root, worn by men and boys. The wavy lines look\nmuch like the impressions which these narrow braids make in the skin.\n\nThe tattooing of girls is begun when they are about four or five years\nold; the fingers and toes and knuckles are then decorated with the\nsquares and the triangles, but here the process ceases until the girls\nbecome of marriageable age, when the tattooing of arms, and next of legs,\nis completed.\n\nIn connection with the operation of tattooing (which, by the way, they\ncall \u2018Bityek,\u2019\u2014a disyllabic _Bit-yek_), there seems to be no particular\nlali or taboo; no objection to spectators was ever made either by the\noperator or by the patient; nor at being photographed was there shown any\nmore than the usual reluctance.\n\nAs an indispensable preliminary, before the skin is touched, several\nbeads must be given to the operator, who may not keep them all, but must\nhand over some to the \u2018Toh,\u2019\u2014the demons who are always lurking about to\nsee that the rules of the house are obeyed. It is lali to draw human\nblood in a house unless the Toh be previously informed that it is for a\nlawful purpose. Some of the beads are, therefore, flung broadcast out of\ndoors, for the Toh to gather up at their leisure. The girl is put on no\nspecial diet while undergoing the operation.\n\nAll tattooing is done by women, (be it remembered that I am here speaking\nonly of the Kayans,) who, as far as I could ascertain, have no privileged\nposition in the community, nor is any qualification demanded of them\nother than artistic taste and manual skill. The office is not hereditary,\nalthough it often happens that the profession descends from mother to\ndaughter, merely because the daughter from an early age is employed as\nan assistant, and thereby acquires a familiarity with the process, and\nnaturally inherits her mother\u2019s instruments.\n\n[Illustration: Kayan Tattooing Instrument. Two-thirds of the natural\nsize.]\n\nThe pattern to be tattooed is marked out on the skin by means of wooden\nstamps whereon the raised patterns have been carved out, leaving the\ndesigns in high relief; these stamps are inked and pressed on the\nskin, leaving a print which sufficiently guides the operator. For\ntattooing, three needles are bound tightly together, and inasmuch as it\nis considered advisable to force them obliquely into the skin, they are\ninserted slightly slantwise in the head of the wooden holder (shaped\nsomewhat like a hammer), and enveloped in gutta-percha to about an\neighth of an inch from their points, which holds them firmly in place\nand regulates the depth to which they may penetrate the skin. Not\ninfrequently the handle and the head of the needle-holder are ornamented\nwith carving.\n\nThe ink is made of the juice of sugar-cane, thickened with the soot of\ndamar gum; it is kept in a bowl of soft wood, wherein the needles can\nbe dipped without dulling the points; and finally the operator provides\nseveral pieces of soft bark-cloth for wiping away the blood, which\nflows profusely. All these instruments are usually kept in a cob-webby,\nsooty, blood-smeared box; but as heirlooms and tools they are of almost\npriceless value.\n\nDuring the operation the girl sits or lies upon the floor; beside her\nsquats the operator, with her toes pressing upon the skin to be tattooed;\nan assistant on the opposite side keeps the skin stretched. At the edge\nof the design marked out by the wooden stamp is placed a roll of soft\nbark-cloth, so thick that when the handle of the needle-holder rests\nupon it the needles exactly touch the skin. The needles, well dipped in\nthe ink, carry enough fluid to tattoo lines several inches in length.\nUsing the roll of cloth as a rest, the operator follows out the design\nand punctures the skin to a proper and uniform depth by means of quick\ntaps with a small iron rod on that portion of the handle which rests on\nthe roll. The assistant, following the track of the needles, wipes away\nsuperfluous ink and blood. (_Experto crede_, when I say that the pain\nof the Kayan operation, even for small designs, is very considerable;\nwhen endured for more than an hour, it becomes torture. Having also\nexperienced for many consecutive hours the Japanese method, I can affirm\nthat in comparison the Kayan verges on the inhuman.) A roll of bark-cloth\nor a stick is held by the victim, and, as an an\u00e6sthetic during the\noperation, clutched with desperate strength. (The photograph herewith\ngiven necessarily had to be taken in a very dark room. A magnifying glass\nwill greatly assist an examination of the details.)\n\n[Illustration: TATTOOING A KAYAN GIRL.\n\nWHILE THE SKIN IS KEPT TENSE BY THE HANDS OF AN ASSISTANT AND BY THE\nFEET OF THE TATTOOER, THE DESIGN, WHICH HAS BEEN MARKED ON THE SKIN WITH\nINK-SMEARED WOODEN STAMPS, IS PRICKED IN BY TAPPING ON THE BACK OF THE\nNEEDLE-HOLDER WITH AN IRON OR A WOODEN BEATER.]\n\nOf course, the complete pattern on women is never finished at one\nsitting; it would involve more suffering than can be borne without,\nperhaps, serious shock; but the martyrdom is often endured for a couple\nof hours, and then, to fill in chance gaps and weak places, that which\nhas been already pricked in, and is become an exquisitely tender welt, is\nmercilessly jabbed and hammered over again, not only once but even twice.\nThe instant that the poor wretch of a girl is released from the hands,\nand toes, of her tormentor, she runs with the swiftness of agony to the\nriver, there to soothe with the cool flowing water the frightful, burning\nache. The absorption of so much foreign matter by the lymphatics often\ninduces high fever; suppuration also not infrequently results from the\nseptic manner in which the operation is performed; this naturally injures\nthe sharpness of the lines. After one session, the tattooing is not\nresumed until the skin is entirely healed, unless an approaching marriage\nnecessitates the utmost speed; should a woman have a child before her\ntattooing is completed, she is lastingly disgraced. The Kenyah women are\ntattooed only on the forearms and hands and on the dorsum of the foot,\nnot on the legs or thighs.\n\nWoe worth the behests of Bornean fashion! Tattooing is not the only\ntorture that the Kayan or Kenyah damsel must endure who would fain be a\nbelle; her ear-lobes must be pierced and stretched with weights until\nthey hang down to her very bosom in long, slim loops of skin. One\nevening, in Tama Bulan\u2019s house, I was entertaining his daughter, Bulan,\nwith the pictures in some illustrated papers that I had brought with me,\nand was trying my best (my fluency in Malay, at that time, was limited)\nto make them intelligible to her. As I have mentioned above, she was\nfilled with boundless amazement at the slim and wasp-like waists of the\nwomen, and utterly failed to understand how any woman could endure the\nhourly suffering entailed by being horribly squeezed in by steel bands,\nwhich, I managed to tell her, were the secret of the extraordinary and\nunnatural shape. But while in the very act of gazing and marvelling at\nthese pictures of what rational human beings will suffer in order to\nappear more beautiful, she was herself constantly relieving her poor,\nelongated ear-lobes of the several pounds weight of copper rings dangling\nand clinking on her shoulders, by sustaining in her hands, if only for a\nbrief moment, these monstrous demands of Bornean fashion.\n\nWith a prophetic eye to future charms, they begin early. The ear-lobes\nare slit when a baby is two or three days old, and as soon as ever the\ncuts are sufficiently healed several small pewter rings are inserted, and\ngradually increased in number until their weight amounts to five or six\nounces, and by the end of the first year the lobe has been lengthened\nthree or four inches.\n\nThis gradual increase of weights is kept up with girls until the lobe\nstretches seven or eight inches. I have seen many a loop of skin, thus\nformed, sufficiently large and elastic to allow it to be slipped over the\nhead.\n\nIt is by no means uncommon to see women with as many as three pounds of\ncopper rings dangling in their ears; of course, this precludes all rapid\nmotion unless the weights are supported by the hands. When they stoop\nover their work the rings are tossed behind on the back.\n\nIt often happens that the weights in the ears are increased\ninjudiciously, and the thin band of skin gives way; it may be that the\nloop catches on a twig in the jungle or on some projection in the house,\nand, in a minute, all the long years of suffering have been in vain;\nimmaculate beauty is for ever gone. To be sure, the ends may be spliced\nby instantly binding them fast together; but an ugly, tell-tale lump\nis the result, and nevermore are the two ears of a symmetrical, lovely\nlength, and nevermore can they, like John Gilpin\u2019s bottles, \u2018keep the\nbalance true\u2019 by bearing equal weights of copper rings. The patched lobe\nremains the weaker.\n\n[Illustration: A KENYAH WOMAN WITH ELONGATED EAR-LOBES.\n\nTHE PROCESS OF ELONGATING THE EAR-LOBES IS BEGUN ON THE SECOND OR THIRD\nDAY AFTER BIRTH, BY MAKING IN THE LOBE A SMALL PERPENDICULAR SLIT, WHICH\nIS KEPT OPEN WITH A PLEDGET OF CLOTH OR A PLUG OF WOOD UNTIL THE WOUND\nHAS HEALED; THEN SEVERAL SMALL PEWTER OR COPPER RINGS ARE INSERTED AND\nGRADUALLY INCREASED IN SIZE AND NUMBER UNTIL THE LOBE AND THE SKIN OF\nTHE NECK BELOW THE EAR BECOME SO STRETCHED THAT THE EAR-RINGS HANG FAR\nDOWN ON THE CHEST. SHOULD THE ORIGINAL SLIT NOT PROVE SUFFICIENTLY LARGE,\nOR SHOULD A GIRL WISH TO ENHANCE HER CHARMS BY AN ENLARGED EAR-LOBE, A\nSMALL, SPLIT CYLINDER OF BAMBOO, HAVING THE EDGES OF THE SPLIT, SHARPENED\nLIKE KNIVES, IS CLAMPED UPON THE SKIN ABOVE THE FORMER SLIT, AND\nGRADUALLY CUTS THROUGH, THUS ENABLING THE STRETCHING PROCESS TO EXTEND\nHIGHER UP TO THE SKIN OF THE EAR AND THE CHEEK.]\n\nThe women of the Berawan tribe, instead of weights, insert discs of wood\nthree or four inches in diameter, often carved on both sides in delicate\nstar-shaped patterns, and sometimes brightened by bits of colored glass\nor mirrors inlaid in the centre.\n\nThe Kayan and Kenyah men never stretch their ear-lobes to the same length\nas do the women; it is effeminate in a man to have his ears depend\nfurther than just to graze the shoulder. Men seldom wear more than one\nsmall copper ring, which is heavy enough merely to keep the loop taut.\n\nThe men of these same tribes, although they escape from extreme length of\nears, must endure a second mutilation of this appendage. But this time it\nis in the upper part that a hole is punched, wherein, when they attain\nto full manhood and have been on a war expedition, there is inserted\na tiger-cat\u2019s canine tooth decorated at the large end with a tuft of\nbead-work, or a silver cap, to keep it in place. Before they are entitled\nto this adornment, the hole, at least half an inch in diameter, is kept\nopen by a simple wooden plug, which is generally worn, even by warriors,\nexcept on ceremonial occasions, and especially when in mourning for the\ndead.\n\nThese holes for the tiger-cat\u2019s tooth are not punched at the same time\nthat the lobe is slit; the operation is not performed until the boy is\nabout ten years old. The best time for it, so they claim, is in the\nevening; the wounds then have the benefit of the quiet, cool night,\nwhereby the pain and chance of severe inflammation are notably lessened.\nA very opportune occasion is during a war expedition, when quietude and\nidleness are the rule, frequently for days, while the seers are finding\nthe Omen Birds, and consulting them as to the success of the expedition.\nYoung boys always accompany head-hunting raids, and serve in all menial\ncapacities, such as, baling out the boats, collecting wood, starting\nthe fires, etc. Inspired by the excitement of the hour, they are more\nthan willing to undergo the pain of having their ears punched, in\nanticipation of the respect with which they will be regarded by their\nplaymates when they return.\n\nThe operation is never performed unless the boy has had an auspicious\ndream the night before. It is auspicious to dream of bathing in clear,\ncold water, or of fruit trees laden with fruit, or of fish in large\nschools. It would be absolutely prohibitory of all thought of the\noperation were the lad to dream of fire or of eating anything hot, such\nas chillies or wild pepper. To make ready for the operation, the boy\nstands against a tree or post, so that the back of his ear stands out\nfrom his head with the firm support of the wood behind it; the hole is\nthen punched out with a cylinder of bamboo of the proper half-inch size,\nwhich has been sharpened round the edge so that it makes a clean cut when\ndriven by a smart blow from a billet of wood.\n\nIn the hole a plug of wood is at once inserted, and there remains until\nthe wound is healed. The poor little chaps suffer horribly from the\nswelling and inflammation that always ensue. But have they not advanced\nthe first step toward that happy day when they may be so blest as to kill\na foe, and ever after entitled to wear a tiger-cat\u2019s tooth?\n\nIt was not until I saw the women of Tama Bulan\u2019s household dressed out\nin all their very best during the ceremonies of The Naming of the son\nand heir, that I noticed that they, too, had the upper part of the ear\npierced for the insertion of a small tassel of beads. The hole is very\nsmall, and lies concealed in the fold of skin at the margin of the outer\near.\n\nThe Ibans do not stretch the ear-lobes more than an inch or two; but\nthey make up for it by puncturing the edge of the outer ear in a series\nof small holes about an eighth of an inch apart, extending from the lobe\nall round the ear to where it joins with the skin of the head. In these\ndiminutive holes they insert either a series of small white-metal rings\nor an elaborate ornament of open brass rings, either plain or strung\nwith cowrie shells, and connected, opposite the opening whereby they are\nslipped into the holes in the ear, with a narrow band of brass, from\nwhich are suspended many small diamond-shaped pieces of the same metal,\nwhich clink and jingle and glitter. The rings at the top of the ear are\nabout half an inch in diameter, but they increase gradually in size until\nat the lobe they are an inch or more. When an Iban is bedizened with\nthese aural adornments, and has a red and yellow cloth wound around his\nhead, and ten yards of Turkey-red calico tied and twined about his waist,\nelegance of Iban costume can no further go.\n\n[Illustration: BATU, A KAYAN YOUTH OF THE BARAM DISTRICT.\n\nHIS EAR-LOBE IS OF THE FASHIONABLE LENGTH DESIRED BY ALL THE KAYAN MEN.\nTHE LARGE, ROUND HOLE IN THE UPPER PART OF THE EAR IS FOR THE INSERTION\nOF A TIGER-CAT\u2019S TOOTH, WHEN THE PRIVILEGE OF WEARING THAT BADGE HAS BEEN\nWON BY VALOUR ON A HEAD-HUNTING RAID.]\n\n[Illustration: AN IBAN WITH FILED, STUDDED, AND BLACKENED TEETH.\n\nTHE TEETH ARE DRILLED THROUGH THE CENTRE, AND IN THE HOLES ARE INSERTED\nEITHER PLUGS OF BRASS WIRE OR BRASS-HEADED TACKS, WHEREOF THE HEADS HAVE\nBEEN CUT INTO STARS OR CRESCENTS. THE FOUR FRONT TEETH IN THE UPPER AND\nLOWER JAWS ARE FURTHERMORE FILED TO POINTS. THE FILING, DRILLING, AND\nBLACKENING KILL THE NERVES; THE GUMS RECEDE, AND AT A COMPARATIVELY EARLY\nAGE THE TEETH DECAY AND DROP OUT.\n\nTHE PHOTOGRAPH ALSO SHOWS ONE OF THE IBAN FASHIONS OF ORNAMENTING THE\nEARS WITH A SERIES OF SMALL PEWTER RINGS, ABOUT ONE-EIGHTH OF AN INCH\nAPART ROUND THE MARGIN OF THE EAR.]\n\nIn the way of improving nature, there is yet a third form of cosmetical\nadornment in which, it is safe to say, almost every tribe in Borneo\nindulges, namely, blackening the teeth. White teeth are universally\nconsidered frightful disfigurements, and he or she, who for a few days\nneglects to renew the stain, is sure to be jeered at by all companions\nwith the scoffing remark that white teeth are no better than a dog\u2019s. I\nhave had that reproach cast at me many a time by little children. The\nstaining is effected with a paste made of a greyish-black shale rock,\ncalled \u2018Tunai,\u2019 powdered very fine and mixed with water and the ashes of\na wood, which probably contains a considerable quantity of gallic or of\ntannic acid; two or three applications of this paste impart to the teeth\na brilliant, shining black, which color remains for several days, and\nthen must be renewed by fresh applications.\n\nThe Ibans use a mixture of the ashes of cocoanut husks and of a wood,\nknown to them as \u2018Garang,\u2019 and the burnt juice of a green rattan. This\nmixture produces the same evenly tinted black as the Tunai stone.\n\nIncomprehensible as it may seem, a row of regular, well-shaped teeth of\ninky jet is not devoid of charm; at a distance, I admit, the mouth looks\ncavernous, but near enough to distinguish the teeth at all, I venture to\nsay it is attractive.\n\nNow comes the fourth mandate of fashion, of an ineffably excruciating\ncharacter:\u2014\n\nThe Ibans, not content with blackening the teeth, actually drill holes\nthrough and through the faces of the six front teeth, and therein\ninsert plugs of brass, whereof the outer end is elaborated into stars\nand crescents. Then they finish up by filing the teeth to sharp points!\nNo dentist\u2019s chair can hold a more hideous torture than this. The\ndrill,\u2014usually no more delicate an instrument than the rounded end of a\nfile,\u2014bores directly through the sensitive pulp of the tooth, tearing and\ntwisting a nerve so exquisitely sensitive that but to touch it starts the\nperspiration and seems the limit of human endurance; yet an Iban will lie\nserene and unquivering on the floor while his beauty is thus enhanced\nby some kind and tender-hearted friend. Of course, the tooth dies and\nbecomes a mere shell, tanned inside and out by repeated applications of\nthe astringent blackening; the gums recede, exposing the fangs of the\nteeth and sometimes portions of the alveolar process,\u2014I need not add that\nthe mouth of a middle-aged Iban is anything but attractive.\n\nThe brass plugs can be inserted or removed at will. When a young Iban lad\nwhom I took with me as a servant to Singapore and Siam, noticed that the\npeople in the streets stared at his bestudded teeth, he at once removed\nthe brass studs and kept them carefully locked up in his private box.\n\nFor a fifth time Nature and the Borneans are at odds:\u2014\n\nNature\u2019s beneficent provisions of eyelashes, eyebrows, beard, and\nmoustache are all disdained, and plucked incontinently away. On the\nscore of beauty, I draw the line at blackened teeth. The depilation of\neyebrows and eyelashes is a backward step, and mars every face subjected\nto it, and is the cause, naturally enough, of much discomfort, if not of\nactual disease. At almost every house where we stopped we were called\nupon to treat cases of severe conjunctivitis, for which we could find\nno more reasonable cause than that it was due to the irritation caused\nby the depilation of eyelashes, coupled with bathing in muddy water.\nFurthermore, the absence of the slight shade given by the eyelashes\nin the glare of the sun seemed to me to be the cause of that anxious,\ndistressed expression, or of a fierce and wild scowl, observable on so\nmany faces. The moustache is very seldom allowed to grow, except on one\nside, and then only in a tuft at the corner of the mouth. The beard\nlikewise is usually limited to a few straggling hairs on one side of the\nchin.\n\nThere is a certain tribe,\u2014the Malanaus,\u2014among whom the custom obtains of\nflattening the foreheads of female children; the practice is begun about\nthe fifteenth day after birth, and continues for several months, until\nthe bones of the skull begin to harden. The process is as follows:\u2014On the\nforehead of the child a small padded board is held in place by means of\ncords, which pass through its ends and are attached to a band of cloth\nwhich passes round the back of the child\u2019s head. On the upper surface\nof the board the cords pass through a perforated coin, one from above\ndownward and the other from below upward, so that by turning the coin\nthe cords are twisted and the band shortened. By this means the pressure\nis exerted regularly by just so many turns of the coin each day. The\ncompression is applied only during sleep, and, unless very carefully\ndone, there is danger lest under too great pressure the skull be forced\napart at the fontanelles. The Malanaus maintain that a forehead thus\nflattened imparts to the face a very beautiful and mild expression.\nInasmuch as this compression is restricted to very early infancy, I am\ninclined to think that the skull resumes its shape. I did not observe any\ndeformity of the foreheads in adults or even in the young girls.\n\n[Illustration: MALANAU HEAD-COMPRESSION.\n\nTHE PADDED BOARD WHICH IS BOUND ON THE CHILD\u2019S HEAD IS KEPT IN PLACE\nONLY WHILE THE CHILD IS ASLEEP OR LYING QUIETLY IN ITS MOTHER\u2019S LAP.\nTHE PRESSURE EXERTED BY TWISTING THE CORD RUNNING OVER THE HEAD-BOARD\nIS NEVER VERY SEVERE, AND THE FLATTENING OF THE FOREHEAD IS BARELY\nPERCEPTIBLE IN AN ADULT.\n\nTHE OPEN BOX, CONTAINING FOUR SMALLER BOXES, IS THE \u2018BETEL\u2019 BOX, WHEREIN\nARE KEPT LIME, WILD PEPPER LEAVES, GAMBIER, TOBACCO, CLOVES, AND BETEL\nNUTS, ALL NECESSARY ADJUVANTS TO THE CHEWING OF BETEL, A PRACTICE TO\nWHICH THE MALANAUS ARE ALMOST UNIVERSALLY ADDICTED.]\n\nNone of the tribes mutilates the nose either with rings or sticks\nthrough the septum, or with studs through the al\u00e6. Nor do they ornament\nthemselves with scars, except as practised by the boys to show their\nfortitude. In this display of valour, they have adopted a species of\nmoxa,\u2014small pieces of tinder are placed along the forearm, set on fire,\nand allowed to burn out undisturbed by any sign whatever of pain. The\nstraight line of scars bears an enduring testimony to the fortitude of\nthe youth, and is infinitely precious in the eyes and to the heart of his\ndusky love.\n\nWhat with browless and lashless eyes, inky teeth, brass plugs, looped\nears, and blue legs, I am afraid I have given but a sorry picture of\nthose whom I would fain have my readers regard with as much kindliness\nas my memory now holds for the originals. These freaks of fashion are,\nhowever, merely external; underneath I found honesty, hospitality,\ngentleness, and a child-like simplicity. The Kayans and Kenyans harmonise\nwith their surroundings. The very word \u2018jungle\u2019 possesses an indefinable\ncharm,\u2014it is full of gay, exuberant life in insect and flower; but in its\ndepth, side by side with these, lurks swift death. Deep seated in the\nheart of the joyous, child-like Borneans there reigns in their bosoms,\ntrue to their jungle home, an inextinguishable yearning for a head not\ntheir own. Nevertheless, I like them.\n\n\n\n\n_PERMANTONG, OR LALI_\n\n_A BORNEAN SPECIES OF TABOO_\n\n\nDuring the days devoted to search for omens in reference to the sites\nof the rice-fields, and also again in reference to the planting, the\nKayans refrain from their usual daily occupations, and neither leave\ntheir houses themselves nor allow strangers to enter. These days of\nseclusion are termed \u2018Permantong Padi,\u2019 or \u2018Lali Padi,\u2019 and correspond\nvery closely to taboo elsewhere. Permantong is the word among the\nKayans in the Baram district in the northwest of the island; but among\nthe Kayans in the valley of the Kapuas River, in Dutch Borneo, it is\n\u2018Pantang;\u2019 both these forms are possibly derived from the Malay word\n\u2018Hantu,\u2019\u2014a Demon or evil Spirit,\u2014with the prefix _per_ and the affix\n_an_, both used to form derivative substantives; thus the Malay word in\nfull would be \u2018per-hantu-an,\u2019 meaning _possessed by Spirits_, or, more\nfreely, _bewitched_. \u2018Lali\u2019 is probably a pure Kayan word; its derivation\nI do not know. Between it and permantong I could discover no shade of\ndifference in meaning.\n\nThe work of clearing off the jungle is tedious in the extreme, and, if\nafter all the heavy labour, the crops should fail or be destroyed by\nmonkeys, or by birds, or by a beetle called \u2018pangau,\u2019 or by blight, the\nwhole household in their discouragement become convinced that they have\ncommitted some act to incur the displeasure of the Spirits; therefore,\nbefore this arduous work is begun, it is of prime importance to ascertain\nthe exact temper of the Spirits, by observing the actions of certain\nbirds, mammals, and reptiles, all of which are known to the Kayans as\n\u2018Amau,\u2019 and are supposed to be in the confidence of the unseen Powers.\nIt needs but a close observation of bird, beast, and snake to detect the\nsupernal favourable or unfavourable dispositions.\n\nThe experienced husbandmen of the household usually select a patch of\njungle, which in their opinion will make a good rice-field if the Spirits\nbe favourable; then each family does its share in clearing off the\nundergrowth.\n\n[Illustration: IBANS FELLING A BUTTRESS TREE.\n\nA TREE\u2019S WIDE-SPREADING, BUTTRESS-LIKE ENLARGEMENTS AT THE FOOT\nNECESSITATE THE BUILDING OF A SCAFFOLD, WHEREFROM, IN THE FELLING, THE\nTRUNK MAY BE CUT THROUGH AT ITS SMALLEST DIAMETER. WHEN A TRACT OF JUNGLE\nIS TO BE FELLED. THE LARGEST TREES ARE CUT PARTLY THROUGH AND LEFT\nSTANDING, SUPPORTED ONLY BY THE TREES AND BY THE INTERLACING VINES ROUND\nABOUT; THE LARGEST TREES ON THE CONFINES OF THE TRACT ARE THEN FELLED,\nAND IN THEIR FALL START ALL THE OTHERS, AND, WITH A SOUND AS OF THUNDER,\nTHE JUNGLE IS PROSTRATED.]\n\nDuring this preliminary stage, when the labour is not as severe as\nwhen heavy trees must be felled, the household is not as yet lali;\nnevertheless, every individual looks out most anxiously for any evil\nomens. If, on the way to the clearing, a snake called \u2018Nipa matei ekoh\u2019\n(_Dead-tailed snake_) is encountered, which has a brilliant red head\nand a red-tipped tail, or should any one see a deer called \u2018Tela-au\u2019\n(_Cervulus muntjac_), or a Civet cat (_Arctogale leucotis_) called\n\u2018Munin,\u2019 or a Rain bird called by the Kayans \u2018Pajan,\u2019 and by the Kenyahs\n\u2018Talajan\u2019 (_Platylophus coronatus_), they will relinquish the site, and,\nregardless of the work already done, abandon the place for ever. These\nfour animals are most unfavourable omens when seen near the clearing, and\nwilfully to disregard their warnings, even at this early stage, not only\ncompromises the abundance and quality of the crops, but also the health,\nor even the life, of the whole household. Should a man hear a downright\nwarning and yet pay no attention to it, it is natural enough that during\nthe ensuing year he should attribute to this disregard, whatever bad luck\nor even slight accident might befall him. If on the third day of work on\nthe clearing, the whistle of the Talajan bird is heard near by, the omen\nis favourable; up to this time it is ill-omened, but now it indicates\nthat the crops will be enormous, and that the rice-houses or granaries\nmust be made of hard, enduring wood, to stand the weight of the rice\nharvest.\n\nIf, during three days, no evil omens have been observed, there is\nsufficient encouragement therein to proceed to the next stage of felling\nthe heavy timber, and to incite the entire household to co-operate in the\nsearch for further requisite auguries.\n\nAll the families remain secluded in the long veranda, or in their small\nprivate rooms, and sit all day long quite still, smoking and talking; not\na soul is allowed to leave the house, or, at most, to go further than\nthe bank of the river, except two men designated as the \u2018Laki-Niho,\u2019\n(_Hawk-men_,) whose duty it is to look for a hawk, called \u2018Niho.\u2019\n\nWhile these Hawk-men are engaged in this search, no one must call them\nby their true names; even an accidental infringement of this rule is\npunished by a fine of a few beads, or of a coarse china plate. It is the\ncustom of some households for the Laki-Niho not to return to the house\nduring the whole three days\u2019 search for omens; at such times they build\nin the jungle, near the clearing, a small hut, which they indicate to be\npermantong, by putting up beside it two poles, called \u2018ponkut,\u2019 whereon\nthe bark is stripped into bunches of shavings at intervals down the pole.\nWhile living in this hut, members of their own household may communicate\nwith them, if urgent necessity arises, but with strangers, who ought to\nknow from the ponkut, the serious nature of the permantong, they will\nhold no communication whatever.\n\nShould the hawk be seen on the first day of the search, but not on\nthe two succeeding days, it is unfavourable; nevertheless, they would\ncontinue the preparation of the soil, with the expectation, however, of\npoor crops, which, if from no other cause, would be sure to follow the\nhalf-heartedness with which people work when discouraged at the very\noutset.\n\nOn the second day the search is kept up, and if the hawk be now seen, it\nis favourable, but not completely favourable; if they returned to the\nhouse, they would not probably refer to it, lest their chances for the\nmorrow be thereby jeopardised. But should they fail to catch sight of the\nhawk on the third day, they would accept the omen of the second day, and\nbe fairly well content; the search must be continued, however, until the\nlast chance of the most favourable of omens is gone.\n\nIf on the third day\u2019s search, the hawk is again observed, the omen of\nthe second day is rejected, and the omen of the third day is the only\none accepted. A small pile of chips is at once set on fire, to inform\nthe hawk, that a blessing is expected on their crops, and the Laki-Niho\nhurry back to the house to spread the good news. Every one in the house\nnow lights a cigarette or waves a fire-brand, whereby a blessing is\ninvoked on his or her particular rice-farm, and all eagerly watch for\nthe hawk, to see whether or not he sails around without flapping his\nwings. Should he sail away out of sight without once flapping his wings\nall are delighted; it means that the clearing of the jungle may now\ncontinue prosperously, and that neither attack of enemies nor accident to\nthe workers need be feared. Should the hawk flap his wings, it follows\nthat some men, in felling the jungle, will be badly cut by their axes\nor perhaps crushed under falling trees. All instantly avert their eyes\nfrom the flapping hawk, lest the bird should recognise them in the fields\nand select them as victims. After they have made their wishes known to\nthe hawk by means of the fire, there is a respite of a day or two in the\npermantong, and the people are allowed to go out of doors.\n\n[Illustration: FIELD OF HILL RICE, CLEARED AND PLANTED BY IBANS IN THE\nBARAM DISTRICT.]\n\nAfter this short respite, the same two Laki-Niho again set out, this\ntime in search of the Talajan bird; and again the people are housed.\nThis search lasts three days also, and on the third day, if successful,\nthey perform the same rite as before with fire and smoke. Next follows\na three days\u2019 lookout for the Tela-au deer, which must be not only seen\nbut heard; if it dart off the minute it is seen, without giving its gruff\nbark, it foretells a misfortune, but to an individual merely, not to the\nwhole household; consequently, but very little attention comparatively is\npaid to it.\n\nThe tedious formalities are now nearly over, and there remain but\ntwo more animals to be observed, namely, the Munin and the Makong,\n(_Berenicornis comatus_, the white-headed Horn-bill;) these two, also,\nmust utter some sound to show whether or not they are favourable. These\nare all the omens that must be consulted before the heavy timber can\nbe felled and the rice planted. During each period of three days, all\nmembers of the household must remain within the house.\n\nWhen the felled jungle is become dry, it is burned over, and as soon as\nthe ground is cool they dibble in the grain. From the hour when the real\nlabour of felling the jungle begins, until the seed-planting is finished,\nno stranger is allowed to enter the house or field; should inadvertence\nor necessity bring a neighbor within the lali district, he must pay a\nsmall offering to atone for the trespass. This offering is known as\n\u2018Usut,\u2019 and is ordinarily a few beads or something of iron, such as a\nspear-head, or an old knife. The usut is placed in a basket and hung up\nin the rice-field until it rusts away or disappears. To see that this\nusut is properly paid, is the duty of the women, who call the custom \u2018Toh\nLali,\u2019 or Lali of the Spirits. (Once, when on our way down the river from\nTama Bulan\u2019s, we stopped at a house, and, finding no one about, walked\nboldly up the bank, whereupon the head-man hurried down to meet us, and\ndemanded, with considerable persistence, that we should give him a\nknife. Thinking he was hinting at a present, I searched in the canoe for\none of my good hunting-knives. On receiving it, he incontinently thrust\nit into a basket and sent it off to the rice-fields to be hung up and\nto rust away. An old table-knife or any bit of old iron would have done\nas well, but my ignorance cost me a valuable knife, which I am sure was\nwasted on the Toh.)\n\nThe crop is now fairly started. The heaviest part of the task of keeping\ndown the weeds falls to the women, who rise with the sun, and, as soon as\nthe household is fairly awake, start off in rain or shine for the fields,\nin parties of six or eight, armed with their little, short-handled,\nlop-sided hoes. Usually they do not eat until they arrive at the scene of\ntheir labours; sometimes they halt at a pebbly \u2018karangan,\u2019 where dry wood\nis plenty, and there break their fast, but do not eat again until they\nreturn to the house in the evening.\n\nShortly before the rice is cut, a basket containing pieces of wood,\nroots, leaves, and strings of beads is carried to the field and left\nthere for three days. This basket of offerings, or charms for the crop,\nis called the \u2018Tigga,\u2019 and after the rice is cut the basket and its\ncontents are placed either on a shelf in the granaries or else on the\nplatform just outside the door.\n\nDuring the harvesting of the \u2018Parai Agit,\u2019 a small patch of rice planted\nfirst, and always harvested first, there is a lali of four days, known\nas the \u2018Lamali Parai,\u2019 (lali of the pregnant rice.) Of the Parai Agit no\nwoman must eat; if she does eat of this rice, she will go mad. Reiterated\nquestionings failed to disclose the origin of this belief, and even the\nreason for planting the Parai Agit itself.\n\nWhen the rice is all harvested, the household is lali to strangers, and\nfor eight days no one can go off on any expedition nor return to the\nhouse from an expedition. No sooner does this lali end, than another\nbegins, while the rice is being stored in the granaries. But as soon\nas this harvesting is over, a general feast is prepared, and merriment\nof all sorts makes up for the weariness of the long day\u2019s work. The\nwomen don every stitch of their finery and every bead to their name;\nsome even assume men\u2019s clothes, and carry shield, spear, and parang.\nIn the evening, all join in a long procession round the house; guests\nare invited to participate in the festivities, and \u2018jest and youthful\njollity\u2019 rule the hour; the brimming cup passes freely, and to the\nharmonious strains of the kaluri the women \u2018trip it as they go,\u2019 or\nleap in war-dances, in imitation of the men. As a half apology for all\nthis \u2018heart-easing mirth,\u2019 they told me that this harvest at least was\ntheirs,\u2014they might not live to see another.\n\n[Illustration: IBAN CAMPHOR-COLLECTORS SPLITTING UP A CAMPHOR TREE IN\nSEARCH OF CRYSTALS.\n\nWHEN ALL THE OMENS HAVE BEEN AUSPICIOUS, THE CAMPHOR TREE IS FELLED AND\nTHEN, DECKED OUT IN THEIR FINEST WAR CLOTHES, THE COLLECTORS EXAMINE WITH\nMINUTEST CARE EVERY CRACK AND CREVICE IN THE TRUNK OF THE TREE WHERE\nTHE CRYSTALS MIGHT LURK. THERE IS NO PRODUCT OF THE JUNGLE ABOUT WHICH\nTHERE IS SO MUCH MYSTERY AS ABOUT CAMPHOR, AND WHILE SEARCHING FOR IT THE\nCOLLECTORS ARE HEDGED IN AT EVERY TURN BY PERMANTONG OR TABOO, AND MUST\nTALK IN A LANGUAGE USED ONLY DURING QUESTS FOR THE ELUSIVE CRYSTALS.]\n\nAfter this festival there follows another lali, known as the \u2018Lali\nNeboko;\u2019 it lasts for ten long days, and is apparently devoted by the\nwomen to the resumption of their proper sphere and duties; they make\nall sorts of cakes out of the new rice, and vie with each other in\ndevising toothsome dishes for their lovers and husbands. During all this\nlali, no one is permitted to do a stroke of any work that resembles the\ncultivation of rice; a parang or a billiong, or any tool used in felling\nthe jungle, is a strictly lali article; should any restless creature\nexpress a desire for active work, he is scoffed at and scorned as a\nspoil-sport and kill-joy.\n\nDuring the Permantong Padi, the large wooden mortars, wherein the rice\nis husked, are enclosed in bamboo railings, to prevent human beings,\nand dogs also, from touching them. The store of rice will last but a\nshort time should these mortars be touched by any hands other than those\nwhose duty it is to use them. If a dog in search of food, or of a place\nto sleep, crawl into one of them, he is straightway caught, and his\nhair rubbed the wrong way with a cord, which they call a \u2018Tali Gamai.\u2019\nDuring this rubbing, the owner of the mortar exorcises the evil Spirit\nby saying: \u2018I stroke this dog thus, because I do not wish my food to\ndisappear on account of this dog. Let my food last until the next year\u2019s\ncrop. One! Two! Three! Four!\u2019 The dog is sure to die, so they say, very\nsoon after this ceremony. These large mortars are fastened to the floor,\nand when not in use are often used as seats, except during the Permantong\nPadi, when even the deep hollow in the centre is plugged up, to keep the\ndogs, which no railing can exclude, from licking it in their search for\nremnants of rice.\n\nBesides the Permantong Padi, there are many minor permantongs in the\ndaily life of the Kayans; for instance, in a Kayan house it is permantong\nto whistle after dark. To play the kaluri, or the nose-flute, is\nallowable, even though thereby the same sound as whistling is produced;\nwhistling summons evil Spirits, and is sure to bring mischief into the\nhouse. Some Ibans aver that in old times it was strictly against all rule\never to whistle in the house, even in the daytime.\n\nIt is permantong, or lali, for a member of a dead man\u2019s household to\ngive anything to be used in laying out the corpse; cloth or other things\nnecessary for such purposes may be obtained from any other than a member\nof the same house. When in need of such things, the relatives and friends\nshould ask for them when the patient is moribund, and not after death has\nput a seal on his lips, preventing him from making the request himself.\nWhen the corpse has been laid out for several days, no one, whether a\nmember of the household or not, is willing to sell or give any thing to\nbe placed upon the corpse; it may be placed, however, close by the corpse\nwith perfect propriety, together with cigarettes, which carry messages to\ndead friends. Dr. Hose told me that on one occasion, while he was talking\nto Tama Bulan, in his long-house on the Pata River, a message was brought\nto the Chief from a very sick man, with the request for enough white\ncloth to make a \u2018Bah\u2019 or waist-cloth, wherein to die. Tama Bulan asked\nwhether the message came from the man himself or from his relatives, and\nshowed no inclination to give the cloth until he learned that the man\nwas still alive; then he very willingly produced the number of fathoms\ndesired. He explained afterward, that had the man been dead, and the\nrequest come from the relatives, he would not have given the Bah. Had he\ngiven it under these circumstances, it would have angered the Spirits,\nand they would have claimed the giver as the next victim.\n\nWhen a man is sick and likely to die, no one in the house is allowed to\nopen boxes, or any receptacles whatever, at night, except it be the small\ntobacco boxes of bamboo which all carry, or the ordinary baskets wherein\nthey keep the sleeping-mats; breach of this law brings death into the\nroom in which the offence was committed.\n\n[Illustration: PUNAN CAMPHOR-COLLECTORS.\n\nPUNANS TESTING THE PRODUCTIVENESS OF A CAMPHOR TREE BY SMELLING THE CHIPS\nCUT FROM THE TRUNK ABOUT TEN FEET FROM THE GROUND. EXPERT COLLECTORS\nCAN TELL BY THE STRENGTH OF THE ODOR WHETHER OR NOT THE TREE IS RICH IN\nCRYSTALS.]\n\nIt is lali to cook inside the house the flesh of deer, buffalo, wild\ncattle, tiger-cats, many of the smaller mammals, and the large lizard\n(_Veranus_,\u2014sometimes as much as six feet long,) and only old and proved\nwarriors may eat the flesh of deer; the timid disposition of the animal\nenters the souls of youths who are rash enough to eat of it.\n\nVery similar to the search for omens in reference to the rice-fields is\nthe observation of omens preliminary to the search for camphor crystals,\n(which are found in a tree known to botanists as the _Dryobalanops\nCamphora_.) Before setting out for the depths of the jungle where the\ncamphor trees grow, the Kayans first look for a bird known to them as\n\u2018Isit\u2019\u2014a Spider hunter, (_Arachnothera longirostris_ or _Anthreptes\nmalaccencis_,) and should it be seen flying across their path, from right\nto left, the omen is not good, there will be poor luck in their search;\nif it be seen flying in the opposite way, there will be good luck. After\nthey have seen the Spider hunter, they must next look for the common Red\nHawk, whose flight must be also from left to right; if its flight be\nfrom right to left, their search will be fruitless, or else some heavy\ncalamity will happen to them, and they had far better return home at\nonce. When both these Omen bearers have been seen flying favourably, the\nPajan, or Rain Bird, and the Tela-au, or Barking Deer, must be either\nseen or heard on the right-hand side of the trail; but even when all\nthese omens have been favourably observed, the camphor searchers are not\nyet free to pursue their quest. For a final omen, they seek for a certain\nsnake, \u2018Batang limu,\u2019 (_Simotes octolineatus_,) and the most strenuous\nefforts must be made to kill it; should it escape, they may as well\nreturn home; they will find no camphor, even though all the other omens\nhave been auspicious.\n\nAs soon as they have decided upon the tributary stream, near whose\nbanks they are to direct their search, a rattan is stretched across its\nmouth, as Jamma explained to me, and as is set forth on page 115 above;\non this rattan are hung wooden images and models of parangs, billiongs,\nspears, and the wooden wedges used in splitting up the trunks of the\nfelled camphor trees; this gives notice to other camphor hunters, or\nto passing strangers, that the stream is closed and all trespassing\nforbidden. When they have selected the camphor tree, which they intend\nto cut down, they build their hut near it, and then, after the first\nstrokes of the axe, if they hear the note of an Omen bird, they give\nup work for the rest of the day, and sit idle in their hut. But if all\nomens are favourable, and they find that the tree is likely to prove\nrich in camphor, they plant near their hut a stake, whereof the outer\nsurface has been cut into curled shavings and tufts down the sides and\nat the top. (I suggest as possible that these shavings represent the\ncurling tongues of flame which communicate with the unseen Powers.) When\nthe Kayans are collecting camphor, they are under no restrictions as\nto food, nor are they forbidden to speak to people whom they may meet,\nalthough they will not allow strangers to enter their hut. With many\nother tribes, all communication with strangers is strictly forbidden; the\nSibops, for instance, when asked, by people whom they meet, the usual\nquestion:\u2014\u2018Where are you going?\u2019 maintain a stony silence.\n\nWhen the camphor tree has been felled, the trunk is cut into small\npieces, and during this process the searchers are clad in their most\nshowy war-clothes and armed with parang and spear. It is in the crevices\nof the fibre of the wood that the crystals are found, (a peculiarity\nof the Borneo camphor,) and the searchers seem to regard the tree as a\nfallen foe, who can be made to yield his hidden treasure only at the\npoint of sword and spear.\n\nThe search for the crystals is tedious work; each piece of wood must be\nsplit with the greatest care and examined with minuteness. No camphor is\nfound beyond twenty feet from the root, and trees productive of camphor\ncrystals are always hollow; it is, therefore, probable that no crystals\nare found unless the tree has been in some way injured. Besides the\ncrystals, there is always an abundance of oil, useful as an embrocation;\nand there is also usually a quantity of soft camphor, called \u2018Kapor\nBata,\u2019 not yet crystallised; yellow, resinous crystals are of no value.\nThe blossoms of the tree have a strong smell of camphor, and near its\nroots is usually found a peculiar luminous fungus.\n\nMany tribes when on an expedition for camphor must not talk among\nthemselves in their own language about their quest, but must use \u2018camphor\nlanguage.\u2019 The Malanau tribes are herein very strict; the crystals will\nimmediately dissolve if any language be used other than the camphor\nlanguage. The Malanau word for _to return_ is \u2018muli,\u2019 but when in the\npresence of a camphor tree they say \u2018beteku;\u2019 _to hide_ in the Malanau\nlanguage, is \u2018palim,\u2019 but when on a camphor hunt they say \u2018krian.\u2019\nSimilarly, all common names for implements and for food are changed.\nOne would expect to find an interesting remnant of an ancient language\nin this camphor dialect, but it is very doubtful if there be any such\nremnant there. This curious custom prevails throughout Borneo, and in\nthe Malay Peninsula also; possibly, it was introduced by the Malays to\npreclude all outside interference in the trading transactions between the\nnatives and themselves.\n\n[Illustration: KAYAN CAMPHOR-COLLECTORS SELLING THEIR STORE OF CRYSTALS\nTO CHINESE TRADERS.\n\nTHE PRICE GIVEN FOR CAMPHOR DEPENDS LARGELY UPON THE SIZE AND PURITY OF\nTHE CRYSTALS; YELLOW AND SOFT CRYSTALS ARE OF LITTLE VALUE. THE BOY ON\nTHE LEFT IS HOLDING IN HIS HAND SEVERAL ROLLS OF COPPER CENTS TIED UP IN\nPACKETS OF FIFTY.]\n\nAmong some tribes, when engaged in camphor collecting, the names of\nChiefs and of influential men must never be mentioned; should any one\nviolate this rule, the trees are always found camphorless.\n\nWives dare not touch a comb while their husbands are away collecting this\nvaluable gum; the fibres of the tree will duly reveal abundant spaces\nwhere camphor ought to be found; but if a comb has been touched at home,\nthese spaces will prove empty and resemble the spaces between the teeth\nof a comb.\n\nHusbands are able to discover, by certain knots in the tree, when their\nwives are unfaithful; and in former days, many women are said to have\nbeen killed by jealous husbands on evidence no better than these knots.\n\nThe leathery sheath of the leaf-stalk of the Penang palm is used as a\nplate for food, and it must not be washed during the whole time of an\nexpedition for camphor, for fear that the camphor will dissolve and\ndisappear from the crevices of the tree.\n\nNo one is allowed to bathe except at daylight and at nightfall; no\nsong is sung; no deer of any species should be eaten at these times;\nthe collectors are, however, allowed to hunt for smaller game with the\nblow-pipe.\n\n(The finest camphor is that which is found in large, transparent\ncrystals, about three-quarters of an inch long; this often brings in\nthe up-country bazaars as much as forty or fifty dollars a pound. The\nchief camphor workers are the Punans, who are either hired as guides and\nhelpers by the Kayans, Kenyahs, Sibops, or Ibans, or else they collect\nthe camphor themselves and barter it with the other natives, who in turn\nsell it to the Chinese.)\n\nWith almost every tribe the name for camphor-hunting is \u2018Paji.\u2019\n\n\n\n\n_THE PUNANS_\n\n\nWhen we parted company with the somewhat unpeaceful Peace-party at Tama\nAping Buling\u2019s, as previously narrated, we set out by ourselves to visit\na settlement of Punans, which had been for some months past in the jungle\na short distance from the head-waters of the Dapoi. The sense of freedom\nand relief from the responsibility of that host of warlike peace-makers\ncould not fail to add to our enjoyment of this lovely river; but, even\napart from this private, personal emotion, nothing can be imagined\nmore thoroughly and charmingly tropical than the scenery, shifting and\nchanging at every stroke of the paddle, on which we now entered. The sky\nwas cloudless, the temperature delightful; great trees, slanting far\nover the river, interlocked their branches overhead, and, in perfect\nsun-flecked shade, we pursued our slow way over the curling, bubbling,\nand babbling water, with our men lazily poling or paddling the canoes.\nLittle blue, green, and red king-fishers darted across our bows, hither\nand thither, from the tangled undergrowth on the banks; from huge,\ndistorted branches covered with delicate little bright-green ferns,\ndangled long, sweeping vines, which had caught in their coils clumps\nof stag\u2019s-horn fern and gay orchids, thus adorning our pathway with\nhanging-baskets of Nature\u2019s own handicraft; large, startled fruit-pigeons\nglided swiftly under the archway of boughs, stirring the leaves with the\nwind from their swift wings; and from the depths of the ever-dripping\njungle resounded the hoarse croak of the horn-bill or there was wafted\nthe plaintive, melodious call of the Wawa monkey. Except for these sounds\nand the gurgling of the water, all nature was absolutely hushed, and the\nodor of damp, rich earth and warm leaves was heavy, like the atmosphere\nin an orchid-house in winter.\n\nThe banks of the Dapoi are somewhat thickly populated, and we halted at\nseveral houses, where we made ourselves most welcome by largesses to\nthe women of strips of bright yellow or of gay red cloth, for frontlets,\nand to the men we gave handfuls of Java tobacco. From the female heart,\nas grateful as, in this instance, it was vain, our gifts received an\nimmediate appreciation; when we took our departure, the river-bank looked\nlike nothing so much as a bed of marigolds and poppies in fullest bloom.\n\n[Illustration: TAMA BALAN DENG, A CHIEF OF THE SIBOP TRIBE. HIS THREE\nDAUGHTERS, AND TWO SONS.]\n\n[Illustration: PIPES AND OTHER REQUISITES TO TOBACCO SMOKING.\n\nON THE LEFT, IN THE UPPER HALF OF THE PHOTOGRAPH, IS A CARVED, BAMBOO\nTOBACCO BOX, USED BY THE KAYANS TO HOLD BOTH TOBACCO AND ROLLS OF BANANA\nLEAF, WHEREOF CIGARETTES ARE MADE. NEXT TO IT IS A PAIR OF WOODEN TOBACCO\nBOXES, PROBABLY MADE BY A KELABIT. ABOVE THEM IS A POUCH OF PLAITED\nRATTAN. THE THREE LONG SECTIONS OF BAMBOO, WITH SLIM BOWLS INSERTED AT\nRIGHT ANGLES, AND ALSO THE BENT ROOT WITH A SMALL BOX ATTACHED, ARE PIPES\nUSED BY THE SIBOP TRIBE. ON A RIGHT IS A PLUG OF PALM LEAVES, FASTENED\nIN A CLEFT STICK, WHICH IS INSERTED IN THE STEM OF A PIPE TO STRAIN THE\nSMOKE AND TO KEEP THE ASHES OF TOBACCO FROM BEING DRAWN INTO THE MOUTH.\nNEXT TO IT IS A FIRE-SYRINGE, USED BY THE SARIBAS IBANS, CONSISTING OF\nA BRASS CYLINDER LINED WITH LEAD, AND A TIGHTLY FITTING, WOODEN PISTON;\nON THE TIP OF THE PISTON IS PLACED A SMALL PIECE OF TINDER MADE FROM A\nMOSSY LICHEN, AND BY DRIVING THE PISTON VIOLENTLY INTO THE CYLINDER AND\nRAPIDLY WITHDRAWING IT, THE SUDDEN COMPRESSION AND EXHAUSTION OF THE AIR\nIGNITE THE TINDER. THE OPERATION REQUIRES GREAT DEXTERITY. ABOVE ARE TWO\nSMALL TOBACCO BOXES, ONE COVERED WITH BEAD-WORK, THE OTHER WITH PLAITED\nFERN-FIBRE; TO THE LATTER ARE ATTACHED A WHET STONE AND A GOURD TO HOLD A\nSUPPLY OF PITH BUTTS FOR THE BLOW-PIPE DARTS. IN THE LEFT LOWER HALF IS A\nSTRAIGHT BAMBOO PIPE, USED BY MADANGS. AT THE BOTTOM OF THE PICTURE IS A\nBOARD, WHEREON CIGARETTES ARE ROLLED AND TOBACCO IS CUT INTO THIN STRIPS.\n\n(From _The Furness-Hose Collection_, Philadelphia.)]\n\nAt dusk we arrived at Tama Balan Deng\u2019s,\u2014a village of Sibops recently\nmoved over from the Rejang. The Chief gave up his own room to us, and,\nhospitable soul, without hinting it to us, quietly and silently moved his\nfamily into an adjoining temporary hut; for his house was only partially\ncompleted. We found here that tobacco was smoked by the men much more\nfrequently in pipes\u2014a rare custom in this part of Borneo\u2014than in\ncigarettes. These home-made pipes differ so widely from any I have ever\nseen or heard of, that possibly they are worth a word of description:\u2014The\nstem is a piece of bamboo more than an inch in diameter, into which is\nset a straight, slim bowl, which can hold only a small wad of tobacco.\nIn the stem they insert a plug of shredded palm leaves, or of shavings\nof wood, bound on a stick; and then take the end of the stem into their\nmouths, and having first got the tobacco well alight by a few gentle\npuffs, they give a powerful suck, whereby the wad of glowing tobacco is\ndrawn down through the bowl into the stem, but is prevented from reaching\nthe mouth by the plug of palm leaves. Their name for a tobacco-pipe is\n\u2018S\u2019puk,\u2019 which seems to be an imitation of the sound of the check given\nby the plug of palm leaves to the wad of tobacco under the vigorous suck.\n\nVery few of the inmates of the house had ever before seen white people;\nand we had a crowd of gaping spectators constantly about us. During\nour first night, almost all the inmates crowded into our room, as I\nsaid above, where they remained, positively the whole night through,\nwatching us, exchanging observations on our personal appearance, and lost\nin wonder at our clothes, our marvellous paleness, the colour of our\neyes and of our hair. We opened our eyes at daylight, in time to catch\nsight of the women in the group creeping out, almost on all fours. This\ncreeping, crouching, feminine mode of walking obtains among almost all\nthe tribes; when women pass a group of men on the veranda, they must\ncrouch down as low as they can; or even when they have themselves been of\nthe group and wish to leave it, they must creep away, not rising higher\nthan a squatting position until they are at a distance. Thus it was, on\nthis present morning; when they withdrew from this inquisitive vigil they\ncrouched until they were outside the room.\n\nTama Balan\u2019s was the last house on the Dapoi, and as we continued up the\npleasant stream we seemed to have left all Borneo behind us. Suddenly we\ncaught sight of a young Punan girl standing in a canoe near the shore,\nand so earnestly engrossed in stamping grated tapioca root through a\npiece of matting to strain it, that she never noticed our approach.\nWhen at last she looked up and caught sight of our canoes, and the\ninconceivable white beings in them, in a flash she snatched up her mat\nand basket of tapioca, and darted into the jungle, like a startled fawn.\nShe was such a pretty picture, as she stood in her canoe, absorbed in\nher work, that I told one of our men to find her and lure her back with\npromises of rich presents, if she would allow me to take a picture of\nher. She was quickly found, and brought back somewhat reluctantly; never\nbefore had she seen white folk, and what idea the making of a picture\nconveyed to her poor, little, bewildered brain, cannot be fathomed. In\nreminiscence, it must have seemed to her a hideous dream; she was told\nto go on with her work, while a horrible monster, with a face as pale as\nashes, and incomprehensibly clad, stood off at a distance, and placed\non three long sticks an awful object, that expanded and contracted, hid\nhis face in a black cloth, looked at her with an awful eye for a moment,\ngave her a big piece of yellow cloth and a handful of tobacco, and then\nwith his black object and long sticks was off again in a canoe;\u2014such,\nat least, was her utterly bewildered and dazed expression, as she stood\nmotionless in her canoe, holding in her hands the yellow cloth and the\ntobacco, her only proofs that she was not dreaming, and glancing from\nthem to us alternately as we disappeared rapidly round the turn of the\nriver, vanishing into empty space from which we had as suddenly and\nmysteriously emerged. No Punan mind could doubt that she had been visited\nin a trance by supernatural Spirits.\n\n[Illustration: PUNAN HUTS NEAR THE HEAD WATERS OF THE DAPOI.\n\nTHESE LEAFY SCREENS, THE MOST SUBSTANTIAL HABITATIONS WHICH THE PUNANS\nEVER BUILD, ARE DESERTED AS SOON AS THE TAPIOCA OR OTHER JUNGLE PRODUCT,\nON WHICH THE PEOPLE LIVE, IS EXHAUSTED IN THAT LOCALITY. THE PUNANS DO\nNOT PLANT RICE, NOR DO THEY CULTIVATE ANY CROPS, BUT LIVE SOLELY ON WHAT\nTHEY FIND GROWING WILD IN THE JUNGLE.]\n\n[Illustration: PUNAN GIRL STRAINING GRATED TAPIOCA.\n\nTHE TUBERS ARE FIRST FINELY GRATED AND THEN, DILUTED WITH WATER, PLACED\nIN A MAT, AND BY A VIGOROUS TREADING THE FINE PARTICLES ARE STRAINED\nTHROUGH AND COLLECTED IN THE BOTTOM OF THE BOAT OR OTHER RECEPTACLE USED\nFOR THE PURPOSE.]\n\nNot long after this, the river grew so shallow that we deserted the\nboats, and walked for miles and miles, so it seemed, up the bed of the\nstream.\n\nAt last, as we were nearing our destination, we halted for rest and\nrefreshment, at a rice-field hut; and here there strolled in upon us one\nof the Punans themselves from the settlement; he had been out with his\nblow-pipe after small game. He made no attempt to conceal his speechless\nwonderment at white people, and silently gazed at us in open-eyed and\nopen-mouthed astonishment. When our Sibop guide, whom we had brought from\nTama Aping\u2019s, as an interpreter, asked him whether he had ever before\nseen white men, he replied, with awestruck earnestness, \u2018Never anything\nlike them have I seen! Surely they must be the Fathers of all People!\u2019\nEver after he referred to us or addressed us as his \u2018fathers.\u2019\n\nNot long after resuming our march, our guide suddenly turned off from\nthe river-bed into the open jungle,\u2014that is, jungle in which there is\nbut little undergrowth, except thorny palms and rattans. It is the ideal\nforest primeval, where old and majestic trees form in every direction\nvast, illimitable, solemn vistas. On a sudden, our guide asked us to halt\nand keep perfectly silent, while he went on ahead to give notice to the\nPunans that some peaceful, friendly visitors were approaching. Unless\nthis notice were given, he declared that the people would scatter at the\nfirst sound of our approach, and we should find nothing but empty huts.\nWhen he returned, he guided us down a slight hill and over a stream, and\nthrough a dense hedge of tall plants of wild tapioca. We emerged into\nmore open ground, and were all at once in the Punan village. The huts\ncould be hardly distinguished from the surrounding grasses and palms,\nso low and fragile were they. The walls were merely boughs and twigs\ninterlaced, and against them leaned broad palm leaves; the roofs were a\nloose thatch of leaves and boughs, but could not be more waterproof than\nthe natural roof of leaves overhead. The \u2018village\u2019 comprised only four\nhuts, and in not one of them could I stand upright.\n\nOutside the huts, when we approached, there seemed to be only a few\nold women. Although our friendly intentions had been announced, the\nyounger folks had hidden in the huts, so as to observe us from a safe\ndistance through the chinks in the leafy walls. There were only two men\nin the village when we arrived; all the others were away hunting with\nblow-pipes, or after camphor, gutta-percha, rattans, or other products\nof the jungle, which from time to time they trade off with their more\ncivilized neighbors, the Sibops and Berawans, for cloth, tobacco, salt,\netc. Three old women, however, at once greeted us, and, coming up\nboldly, insisted on touching all of us, passing their hands over our\narms and our backs, and talking volubly all the while in a plaintive and\nmuch injured tone of voice. It was quite depressing. I was sure that\nwe had unconsciously wounded their tenderest and holiest feelings, and\nthat they were reproaching us for wandering near their \u2018sacred bower\u2019\nand molesting their \u2018ancient solitary reign;\u2019 but, before long, I was\nimmensely relieved by finding that a tone of petulant but resigned\nremonstrance was the common and invariable intonation of each and all.\nLittle by little all fear was dismissed, and we were soon surrounded by\na merry, but sad-voiced, crowd of boys and girls, young women and old;\neven babies in arms,\u2014I should say, babies in slings on their mothers\u2019\nbacks,\u2014were pressed forward, not merely to look at us and to touch us,\nbut to be touched by us. Gentle, simple-hearted creatures, they believed\nthat merely to stroke us or to be stroked by us, brought them blessings;\nthis then, we found, was the meaning of the feeble stroking and caressing\ntouches that greeted us from the old women. Our interpreter told me, that\nwhat I had imagined were reproaches, was a continuous plaintive murmur\nof how good and kind it was of the wonderful white people to come so far\njust to see them and bring them blessings. They examined and admired\neverything we had with us or on us; our coats, our hats, our shoes, the\nbuttons and button-holes on our clothes,\u2014these excited their profound\nwonder.\n\nA book of photographs, which I had taken during a former visit to the\nBaram, was looked at over and over again; they never wearied of it,\nand their clucks of admiration were constant while they explained to\none another the meaning of the pictures. After they fully understood\nthat these miraculous pictures had been made by my camera, they became\nabsolutely without fear of having their pictures taken,\u2014indeed, in their\nsimple hearts, they had somehow come to believe that thereby bodily\nailments would be cured. In the photograph of a group of women and\nchildren, on the opposite page, in the corner on the right, there sits a\npoor, unhappy mother, whose unfortunate little baby is so hopelessly and\nenormously hydrocephalic that it could never leave the basket which she\nholds in her lap. She begged me for medicine to cure it, but when I told\nher that there is none that would do it any good, she piteously begged\nto be allowed to sit in the front line, so that the little patient might\nderive the full benefit of the picture-making. Just beyond her stands\nanother devoted mother, who, in order to bring the powerful curative\neffect of the camera to bear on the alleviation of the severe sufferings\nof her little boy, is holding her hand on the abdominal locality, where\nlittle children most frequently have pains. On her right, and again in\nthe front row, are women afflicted with goitre, which they, too, hoped\nwould be cured by the picture-making.\n\n[Illustration: HUNTING FOR SMALL GAME WITH THE SUMPIT.\n\nTHESE MEN ARE NOT PUNANS, BUT LEPPU ANNANS OF THE TINJAR RIVER; THE\nMANNER OF HOLDING THE SUMPIT IS, HOWEVER, THE SAME IN ALL TRIBES. THE\nJOINT OF BAMBOO, HANGING AT THE BELT, IS THE QUIVER FOR POISONED DARTS;\nIT IS USUALLY LINED WITH FUR, TO PROTECT THE DELICATE POINTS OF THE\nDARTS. THE POISON SEEMS TO ACT VERY SLOWLY ON BIRDS; UNLESS THE WOUND\nFROM THE DART CRIPPLES THE FLIGHT OR ENTERS A VITAL PART, THE GAME\nESCAPES THE HUNTER. FOR KILLING SMALL BIRDS, CLAY PELLETS ARE QUITE AS\nEFFECTIVE AS DARTS.]\n\n[Illustration: WOMEN AND CHILDREN OF THE PUNAN SETTLEMENT NEAR THE HEAD\nWATERS OF THE DAPOI.\n\nBECAUSE THEY SAW IN THE PHOTOGRAPHS WHICH I SHOWED THEM ONLY\nHEALTHY-LOOKING PEOPLE, THEY BELIEVED THAT THEREFORE PICTURE-MAKING MUST\nBE A PANACEA FOR ALL AILMENTS.]\n\nThe Punans are nomads, never building permanent houses, nor remaining\nlong in one locality. Of all the tribes they are, perhaps, the most mild\nand gentle; they are not head-hunters, and care no more for a collection\nof human heads than for that of any other animal, and, therefore, never\ngo on a raid. They know the country more thoroughly than any other\nnatives, and are always sought by the Sibops, Kayans, Kenyahs, and Ibans\nas guides in expeditions after camphor, gutta-percha, and bees-wax. They\nlive solely on the products of the jungle, esculent roots and plants,\nsuch as caladium, wild tapioca, a species of canna, the tender, uncurled\nfronds of ferns, and the heart of several species of palm.\n\nThe men are extremely skilful with the blow-pipe and in the construction\nof snares and traps. When they are not surfeited with small birds, they\nare completely happy with roast or boiled monkey, and as for the small\nBornean porcupine,\u2014it is a delicacy never to be rejected. For some\nreason, which I could never discover, they will not kill a python. Salt,\ntobacco, and rice are downright luxuries. They cultivate no fields, owing\nto their nomadic life; consequently, the Punan fathers and husbands and\nsons work hard to obtain from the jungle, far and near, those articles\nfor which they themselves have no use, such as camphor, bees-wax, etc.,\nwhich they can barter with Malay and Chinese traders. Most valuable of\nall these articles is rhinoceros horn; in fact, the killing of a single\nrhinoceros places the wealth of a Punan village almost \u2018beyond the dreams\nof avarice;\u2019 there is no scrap or portion of the animal that is not\nprized; the flesh is coveted food; the horn, nails, hair, skin, and even\nthe contents of the stomach, are traded at the highest rate of exchange\nto the Chinese, who use them all for medicinal purposes.\n\nIt falls to the lot of the women to prepare the tapioca root for food, an\noperation which takes the place of the monotonous pounding and threshing\nof rice in other tribes.\n\nThese roots, which look much like sweet potatoes, are first scraped or\ngrated on a piece of the stalk of a rough, scaly palm, and the coarse\npulp is then washed and strained by stamping it through a mat while water\nis constantly poured over it; this washed and strained pulp is then\ncollected in wooden troughs and allowed to settle. The sediment is a\nthick, white paste, which when boiled makes a very palatable farinaceous\ndiet. The paste may be also dried and preserved for future use. The roots\nof the _Caladium esculentum_ are either boiled like potatoes or mashed\nand made into a sort of gruel. We partook of all the toothsome dishes\nof the Punans except boiled fern-fronds and monkey; neither happened to\nbe in the Punan larder at the time. I must candidly admit that to me\nthe sight of the preparation of tapioca is not appetizing. In the first\nplace, the hands which hold the tubers while they are being scraped\nare none too icy clean, they often dabble in the pulp just after they\nhave been successfully busy in alleviating a neglected or troublesome\ncoiffure. In the next place, the finely scraped pulp is taken to a stream\nand deposited in a mat which rests in a trough, or in a large wooden\nbowl, on a little platform over the stream. The operator then jumps into\nthe mash and executes therein a lively dance, while, from time to time, a\nsmall boy dips up water from the stream and splashes it over the legs of\nthe dancer, to wash down the particles that may have been spattered up,\nand also to moisten the mash. Strange to say, the paste, when strained,\nis of the most pure and dazzling whiteness.\n\nTo be sure, this operation is no worse than wine-making; but then we very\nseldom see the must foaming round \u2018the white feet of laughing girls;\u2019\nwhereas we cannot pass a day, where tapioca is the standing diet,\nwithout seeing our dinner mashed by girlish feet by no means white,\u2014or\nclean.\n\n[Illustration: SIBOP GIRLS IN THE HOUSE OF TAMA BALAN DENG GRATING TUBERS\nOF TAPIOCA.\n\nTHIS IS THE FIRST STAGE IN THE PREPARATION OF TAPIOCA; AFTER THE ROOTS\nHAVE BEEN FINELY GRATED BY RUBBING THEM ON PIECES OF ROUGH, SCALY\nPALM-STEM, THE MASH IS STRAINED THROUGH A CLOSELY WOVEN MAT.]\n\n[Illustration: PUNAN WOMEN STRAINING GRATED TAPIOCA ROOTS.\n\nTHE GRATED TAPIOCA IS THEN PLACED ON A MAT IN A WOODEN TROUGH, WHICH IS\nSUPPORTED ON A PLATFORM OVER A STREAM, AND BY EXECUTING ON THE PULP A\nLIVELY DANCE, THE FEET, NONE TOO IMMACULATE, OF THE WOMEN PRESS OUT THE\nFINE WHITE PASTE, WHICH IS WASHED THROUGH THE MAT BY CONSTANT ADDITIONS\nOF WATER DIPPED UP AND POURED INTO THE MASH BY A SMALL BOY WITH A LARGE\nPALM-LEAF LADLE. THE PASTE SINKS TO THE BOTTOM OF THE TROUGH AND THE\nWATER IS DRAINED OFF.]\n\nOur men built for us a temporary hut, which, in comparison with any of\nthe Punan huts, was a palace; unfortunately, it had one serious defect;\nits location seemed to be over an extremely popular thoroughfare of\nstinging ants,\u2014those veritable little devils. Just as we were about to\nturn in for the night, a broad procession of thousands of them, every\nsingle one with its vicious little tail turned defiantly up, began\na diabolical march across our floor of bark. The natives, however,\nimmediately built a small fire directly in their path, which at once\ncaused, first, a stampede of the vanguard, and then all the rest turned\ntail, and, still in quadruple or sextuple file, retreated somewhat more\nrapidly than they had advanced, and, at last, all disappeared under the\nleaves on the ground outside. Next to land-leeches, they are the most\npestiferous and noxious insects in the jungle. They do not wait to be\nattacked, but are instantly aggressive when a victim comes within their\nken; and they know to a nicety where the skin is most sensitive. Their\nbite is quite as severe as the sting of a wasp or of a hornet.\n\nThe Punans are pure jungle-folk, and know very little about canoeing or\nswimming. When we asked to be taken to some place where we could bathe,\nwe were led about a mile away to a delightful, deep, sandy-bottomed pool;\nbut our guide thither could not be persuaded to enter the water, and\nwarned us repeatedly to be careful, as the water was very deep,\u2014it was\nhardly up to our waists. When we ducked under, a native bystander shouted\nin genuine terror that one of the \u2018white fathers\u2019 was drowned.\n\nTo test their skill in marksmanship with the blow-pipe, we fastened\na potato about an inch and a half in diameter on a pole, and from a\ndistance of fifty paces they stuck in it six darts out of ten. For small\nbirds, they seldom use darts, which cost some trouble to make; little\npellets of clay are equally effective; poisoned darts are reserved for\nmonkeys and larger game. They assert that with a properly prepared dart\nthey can kill even the formidable rhinoceros. For such large game, the\npoint is weighted with a little triangular head of bamboo or of tin,\nwhich carries more poison, and becomes detached in the wound.\n\nWhen we bade farewell, we gladdened every Punan heart by distributing\nall that remained of our gay cloth and good tobacco; the cloth was quite\nsufficient for every woman and child in the village to meet the tolerant\ndemands of fashion in the way of apparel; and as for the tobacco,\u2014I\nlonged to know what prodigious stories they would rehearse, as they\nsat round their fires in the evening, of the marvellous appearance and\nmysterious actions of the \u2018White Fathers.\u2019 But my heart was woeful\nfor that little mother as, day by day, she would discover that the\n\u2018picture-making\u2019 had brought no healing balm to her poor, hydrocephalic\nboy.\n\nThere is one product of the Punan country which I think deserves a note:\nit is that luxury so dear to the Chinese palate, the edible nests built\nby swallows, or swifts, in certain limestone caves. In the Niah hills,\nnear the coast, these caves have been the breeding-places of these birds\nfrom time immemorial, and in supplying the market with their nests the\nPunans have been for many a year employed by Chinese traders, and the\nestimate is well within bounds that several hundred tons of nests have\nbeen there gathered by this tribe.\n\nWithin the caves of Mt. Subis,\u2014one of the Niah hills,\u2014there is a small\nsettlement of Punans who, during the building season, collect nests.\nThere are three harvests of nests, then the season closes, and the\nswallows are allowed to rebuild undisturbed and rear their brood.\n\nWhen I visited the village of Niah and the caves in Mt. Subis, the\nseason was closed, but it had been so very successful and had kept all\nthe natives so busy that those, whose duty it was to attend to the rice\ncrop, had neglected it; consequently, the people of Niah,\u2014a mixed tribe\nof Malanaus and Punans,\u2014were actually suffering from a rice famine;\nboats had been sent to neighbouring villages to purchase rice, but they\nhad been away for thirty days or more, and almost every pound in the\nvillage had been consumed, except a goodly store in the secure granaries\nof a stingy, avaricious old head-man, Orang Kaya Perkassa by name, who\ndemanded such an unconscionably exorbitant price for it that even to\nstarving men it was almost prohibitory.\n\n[Illustration: PUNAN WOMAN CARRYING HER BABY IN A SLING MADE OF RATTAN.\n\nTHIS MODE OF CARRYING CHILDREN ENABLES THE MOTHER TO HAVE BOTH HER HANDS\nFREE, AND THE SOMEWHAT CRAMPED POSITION OF THE CHILD KEEPS IT OUT OF\nMISCHIEF. ON THESE SLINGS ARE USUALLY HUNG SHELLS OF LAND SNAILS, CURIOUS\nKNOTS OF WOOD, MALFORMED BOAR TUSKS, OR SEVERAL LARGE BEADS, ALL OF WHICH\nARE EXCEEDINGLY EFFECTIVE IN WARDING OFF THE EVIL SPIRITS, WHOSE OBJECT\nIT IS TO HARASS SMALL CHILDREN.]\n\nAnd thereby hangs a tale. A strange old fellow was this Orang Kaya\nPerkassa, tottering on the brink of the grave, and, possibly for this\nvery reason, saturated with superstition. I took the opportunity,\nwhen he happened to pay me a visit, to beg him graciously to grant me\nthe privilege of taking his picture. He refused point-blank and with\nunusual vehemence; but at last he so far relented that he professed\nhis willingness to submit to the hazardous operation, if he might be\nallowed to return to his house and procure such charms as would safeguard\nhis person and counteract the baleful effects of the picture-making.\nOf course, I readily acquiesced, and in a few minutes he reappeared\nwith a ponderous bundle of infallible charms, (they may be seen in\nhis photograph, girdling his waist,) which were oddly shaped pebbles,\nmalformed boars\u2019 tusks, strange knots of wood, etc., (I was not permitted\nto see them, but from my knowledge of Bornean charms, I cannot be far\nastray.) As soon as the exposure was over, in an imperative tone he\ndemanded a picture of myself, saying, \u2018Since the Tuan now has my picture,\nit is in his power to do all manner of harm to me, unless I have one of\nhim to keep me safe.\u2019 Before I had time to tell him that I really had no\npicture of myself with me, several of the natives who had accompanied me\non the trip besought me most urgently to refuse his request, insisting\nthat should this wicked old man once get hold of my likeness he would\nwork most powerful charms with it, and I should inevitably die within the\nmonth.\n\nIt appeared that Orang Kaya Perkassa had recently suffered, under his own\nroof, an extraordinary piece of ill-luck; a Malay had there run amuck,\nand, after slashing several of the inmates very severely with his parang,\nhad fled to a hut on the river-bank, where he had been surrounded and\nfinally speared to death. This, of course, involved no end of bad luck to\nthe Orang Kaya\u2019s house; wherefore to exorcise the evil Spirits a great\nfeast had been held, poles elaborately decorated with carved faces were\nerected to frighten away demons; and, finally, the blood of slaughtered\npigs and chickens, together with pieces of their flesh, was sprinkled\nover both cooked and uncooked rice, which, combined with salt and\nnative ginger, was enclosed in small packages, and solemnly placed in a\nminiature boat and set adrift on the river, to the end that it might bear\nout to sea all the ill-luck of the household, and waft it where it could\ndo no one any harm.\n\nAfter I had finished photographing the Orang Kaya in my own quarters,\nI left him busy talking to some of his friends, and, with my camera,\nstrolled casually toward his house. After having taken a picture of\nthe \u2018demon frighteners\u2019 erected near his dwelling, my attention was\nattracted to a collection, on his veranda, of uncouth, worm-eaten,\nwater-worn, wooden idols, openly displayed on a shelf and draped with\nextremely dirty bits of coloured cloth. I had just finished photographing\nthem, when the Orang Kaya himself suddenly hobbled up the notched log,\nand was at my elbow. He was exceedingly angry, I am sorry to say, at\nmy boldness in taking a picture of them during his absence, and I did\nmy very best to soothe him, and apologized humbly for my intrusion by\nurging my ignorance. I succeeded at last in appeasing him, and had just\ncalmed him into a fairly peaceable frame of mind, when, unwittingly and\nmost unluckily, I undid all that I had done, by innocently offering to\nbuy one of the worm-eaten figures. Never shall I forget the violent,\nvehement, towering rage into which he fell, nor the flood of Malay which\nmy proposal called forth. \u2018How dare Tuan ask such a thing?\u2019 he almost\nshrieked, his wrinkled and cross-wrinkled features working with rage.\n\u2018Shall I sell for money my gods of good fortune! Those are gods, _gods_,\nI tell you! they are not wood! they are my honored guests, my dearest\nfriends! from the broad sea they came to me! and they will bring me\nblessings if their livers are not enraged by having a picture made of\nthem. Never would I have suffered it had I been here; the people in the\nhouse should have stopped it! Surely, surely more misfortunes will now\nfall on me!\u2019\n\nHe then stamped into his room and slammed the door. The evil my camera\nhad done must be thwarted. Accordingly, from that sunset till dawn,\nand even into broad daylight, every gong, big and little, in the Orang\nKaya\u2019s house was kept hot with beating. All through the weary vigils of\nthat night we heard this incessant din. \u2018The good that\u2019s done we may\ncompute, but not the ill prevented;\u2019 therefore, who can say what success\nattended this fervent zeal? That it was not successful, the Orang Kaya\nhimself probably believed. For certain it is that he sickened and died\nwithin three or four weeks. His death was really due, I believe, to old\nage, hastened by an unbridled temper and a life of avarice, so strong\nthat, as I have mentioned, he was willing his neighbors and even his own\nhousehold should die of starvation if only he could add to his wealth.\n\nHis people, I learned afterward, attributed his death to my camera, but\nI rather imagine that by this time they have found out that my camera\nreally brought them an unmixed blessing in disguise.\n\n[Illustration: ORANG-KAYA PERKASSA, HEAD-MAN IN THE MALANAU VILLAGE AT\nNIAH.\n\nROUND HIS WAIST IS TIED A BUNDLE OF HIGHLY POTENT CHARMS, WORN ESPECIALLY\nFOR THIS OCCASION, TO COUNTERACT THE EVIL EFFECTS OF HAVING HIS\nPHOTOGRAPH TAKEN. IN HIS LEFT HAND HE IS HOLDING A NATIVE-MADE CIGARETTE\nOF THE USUAL, GENEROUS SIZE. THE CHARMS WERE, HOWEVER, IMPOTENT; A MONTH\nAFTER THE PHOTOGRAPH WAS TAKEN HE DIED.]\n\n[Illustration: THE HOUSEHOLD GODS OF ORANG-KAYA PERKASSA.\n\nTHESE WATER-WORN, WOODEN IMAGES WERE WASHED UP ON THE BEACH AT THE MOUTH\nOF THE NIAH RIVER; THE ORANG-KAYA, PERCEIVING AT ONCE THAT THEY HAD COME,\nOF THEIR OWN FREE WILL, TO BRING HIM GOOD FORTUNE, ESTABLISHED THEM IN\nA PLACE OF HONOUR IN THE VERANDA OF HIS HOUSE, AND ADORNED THEM WITH\nSUITABLE RAIMENT.\n\nTHE FEATHERED WAR-COAT HANGING TO THE LEFT OF THE IMAGES WAS WORN BY\nTHE ORANG-KAYA AT THE TIME OF THE FEAST, WITH ITS ATTENDANT SACRIFICE\nOF PIGS, WHICH WAS HELD TO COUNTERACT THE EVIL ENTAILED BY THE VIOLENT\nAND SUDDEN DEATH OF A MEMBER OF THE HOUSEHOLD WHO RAN AMUCK. THE\nBLOOD-SMEARED COAT IS HUNG NEAR THE GODS, TO ASSURE THEM THAT EVERY RITE\nHAD BEEN PERFORMED TO PRESERVE THEIR DIGNITY.]\n\nMt. Subis is only about fifteen hundred feet high, and the entrance to\nthe birds\u2019-nest cave on the mountain side is some little distance from\nthe base, and can be gained only by a very tortuous and narrow path round\nthe ledges and projections of slippery limestone.\n\nNot far from the main cave is a smaller one, known as the \u2018Traders\u2019\ncave,\u2019 wherein is a village of twenty or thirty huts, for the\naccommodation of the Chinese traders who come to pay for the nests that\nhave been collected. It is a village of houses without roofs; within the\ncave there is no fear of the sun smiting by day nor the moon by night,\nnor of rain from clouds; consequently, the houses are merely walls\nand floors, and pretty wobbly walls and floors in addition. The roof\nof the cave, frescoed with green mould and lichen, is fifty or sixty\nfeet overhead, with irregular projections of limestone, but free from\nstalactites. No swallows build here, the cave is too light and shallow.\n\nThe Punans\u2019 cave, beyond, is of majestic size; just within the entrance\nthe floor dips abruptly to a deep valley, and the roof curves upward\nin a vast dome; hence, from the level of the valley to the roof is at\nleast six hundred feet. Insensate, indeed, must he be who is not filled\nwith speechless awe as he turns from the brilliant sunshine and enters\nthis illimitable abode of silence and of night. It seemed the veritable\nentrance to the Inferno; and as the light from the opening struck the\nmassive projections here and there, and cast long, blacker shadows, it\nbecame a landscape in the moon, while the appalling, death-like stillness\nseemed to presage a frightful cataclysm in nature. Underfoot is a deep\ncarpet,\u2014fully three feet deep,\u2014of what seemed tan-bark, but which proved\nto be a fine, dry, odorless guano, composed mostly of the wing-covers\nof insects, of a dark-brown color; the jagged sides and roof, and here\nand there boulders projecting through the covering of the floor, were\ncovered with a deep-green mould or lichen, except where the white\nlimestone gleamed out in patches and seemed almost phosphorescent. The\nextent beyond, in the utter darkness, seemed illimitable.\n\nOur presence and the echoing of our voices soon startled the swallows,\nand forth they emerged, in myriads on myriads, from the darkness, and\ncircled round us and above us, and about the mouth of the cave like\nswarming bees; the whirr of their wings and their twittering sounded like\nwaves on a pebbly beach.\n\nOn a flat ledge at one side, near the entrance, was a line of fifteen or\ntwenty of the platform dwellings of the Punans, even more fragile and\ntumble-down than the huts in the \u2018Traders\u2019 cave.\u2019 At the time of our\nvisit, the huts were deserted, giving an air of even greater desolation.\n\nThe nests are obtained by lashing long, stout poles, end to end, and then\nsupporting them with guy-ropes of rattan until they reach to the very\ntop of the cave. Up these poles the agile Punans climb hand over hand\nand foot over foot, walking up them like monkeys; when at the top, they\nscrape down the nests within reach, by means of a long pole bearing a\nhoe-like blade, and with a home-made wax candle fastened to it to show\nwhere the nests are. An assistant below gathers the nests as they fall.\nThere are two varieties of nest, the black and the white; the latter sell\nfor two thousand Mexican dollars a picul, (one hundred and twenty-three\npounds,) the black nests bring only a hundred dollars for the same\nweight. Unfortunately, the Niah caves are \u2018black nest\u2019 caves; but the\nnests are so very abundant that the export revenue tax assessed on them\nby the Sarawak Government amounts to thousands of dollars in a year.\n\nThe Punans, however, are not the owners of the poles in the caves, but,\non account of their skill in climbing, are hired by a Malay or Chinaman,\nwho pays so much a season to the Government for all the nests gathered in\nan area prescribed by the length of the detaching-pole. The Punans do not\nuse the nests as food, and have learned their value and the best times\nand methods of harvesting them only since Chinese and Malay traders have\ncome to Niah. The caves, however, have been inhabited by the Punans for\nvery many years. We found tobacco growing wild not far from the mouth,\nand we were told that it is to be found in considerable quantities all\nabout this locality. The Punans know it well and gather it, but maintain\nthat it is none of their planting, and that it has been known to them and\nused by them as long as they can remember.\n\n[Illustration: THE BIRDS\u2019-NEST CAVES AT NIAH.\n\nTHE LINES INTERSECTING THE PHOTOGRAPH DIAGONALLY FROM RIGHT TO LEFT ARE\nGUY ROPES OF RATTAN, SUPPORTING THE POLES WHEREON THE COLLECTORS CLIMB TO\nREACH THE NESTS. THE PHOTOGRAPH WAS TAKEN FROM THE CREST OF AN ELEVATION,\nABOUT FIFTY YARDS WITHIN THE MOUTH OF THE CAVE, WHENCE A VIEW COULD BE\nOBTAINED ACROSS A DEEP VALLEY TO THE SUMMIT OF ANOTHER HILL. THE GROUND\nWITHIN THE CAVE WAS COVERED WITH A FINE, DRY GUANO, ABOUT THREE FEET\nIN DEPTH AND OF A DARK-BROWN COLOUR, APPARENTLY COMPOSED MAINLY OF THE\nREMAINS OF BEETLES.]\n\n[Illustration: PUNAN HUTS WITHIN THE BIRDS\u2019-NEST CAVES.\n\nWITH THE ROOF OF THE CAVE OVERHEAD, THERE IS NO NEED OF ROOFS TO THE\nHOUSES; CONSEQUENTLY, THIS IS A VILLAGE OF HOUSES WITHOUT HOUSE-TOPS.]\n\nAs to the relationship of the Punans to the other tribes of the interior,\nAban Deng, of the clan of Long Wats, (who in turn are closely allied to\nthe Kayans, Kenyahs, and Sibops,) gave us the following account:\u2014\u2018An old\nChief living far in the interior highlands of Borneo, left, at his death,\ntwo sons, one of whom was energetic and laboured in the rice-clearings,\nwhile the other was incorrigibly lazy. With such different temperaments,\nthe affairs of their common household soon became much disordered, and\nthey agreed to separate, each one choosing the families that were to\nfollow them, and thereafter all were to live as they pleased. The lazy\nbrother and his adherents, who preferred hunting and roaming, betook\nthemselves to the jungle, never built houses nor cultivated rice; their\ndescendants are the Punans of to-day. The industrious brother, named\nPlian, and his adherents cleared the hills of jungle, planted rice, and\nbuilt strong houses; from them are descended the Sibops and Long Wats.\nThe Punans, after many years of wandering, determined to begin the\ncultivation of rice; two of their Chiefs collected them in a fertile\nvalley near the base of \u201cBukit Bulan,\u201d or the Mountain of the Moon, that\nhigh mountain in the centre of Kalamantan, (Borneo,) and they all set to\nwork clearing off the jungle, while the Chiefs stood in a group and gave\ndirections on all sides. The Punans, utterly unversed, however, in the\ncultivation of land, set fire in many places at once to the jungle when\nit was felled, and their leaders, thus surrounded by a circle of fire,\nperished in the flames. Dispirited and discouraged at the loss of their\nleaders, they once more scattered, and have ever since wandered in small\nbands throughout the jungle, depending on their blow-pipe, and snares,\nand the fruits of the forest, for their sustenance.\u2019\n\nWhen a Punan of the common class dies, his body is stretched out simply\nin a little hut of boughs and leaves, with no further burial. The corpse\nof a head-man or of one of his family is, on the other hand, wrapped in\na coarse mat or a sheet of bark-cloth, and, doubled up in a squatting\nposition, is forced into one of the baskets they use for carrying loads\non their backs. It is then placed on a platform of poles, and over it a\nflimsy shelter of leaves.\n\n[Illustration: PUNANS CAMPED FOR THE NIGHT.\n\nA LARGE, FLAT BUTTRESS ROOT OF A TAPANG TREE FORMS THE BACKGROUND ON THE\nRIGHT. THE STICKS CUT INTO CURLED SHAVINGS ARE THE CHARMS INVARIABLY PUT\nUP TO WARD OFF EVIL SPIRITS. THE HEAD-MAN OF THE PARTY IS HONOURED WITH\nTHE PROTECTION OF A ROOF OF PALM LEAVES, BUT HIS FOLLOWERS SLEEP EITHER\nON THE GROUND OR ON PALM-LEAF MATS, WITH NO OTHER COVERING THAN THE\n\u2018CLOISTERED BOUGHS\u2019 OVERHEAD.]\n\nWere the choice of a residence in a Bornean tribe forced on me, I should\nnot hesitate long in casting my lot with the Punans. They have never a\nthought of the morrow; no cares; no responsibilities; no possessions;\nno enemies, for they desire nothing that other people have, not even\nclothes; money is dross; and home is where they rest their blow-pipes\nand hang up their parangs. Night can never find them homeless; home is\nwherever the setting sun finds them; does rain threaten, a few poles and\na few leaves make a house; let the night be clear, and a soft bed of\nleaves in a nook between the great flat roots of a Tapang tree is luxury\nitself; for \u2018where youth with unstuffed brain [never was a Punan brain\n\u2018stuffed\u2019] doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth reign.\u2019\n\nAnd, finally, in the happy land of the Punan there is no dressing and\nundressing morning and evening.\n\n\n\n\n_TUBA-FISHING_\n\n\nThere are two varieties of Tuba[15] known to the natives, and used by\nthem to poison fish in streams; these two varieties are called by them\n\u2018Tuba Ber\u00e1but,\u2019\u2014a shrub, and \u2018Tuba Ja Jaran,\u2019\u2014a creeper; Tuba Ber\u00e1but is\nmore generally used, and is known to Botany as _Derris elliptica_. The\npoison is extracted from the bark of the creeper, and from the tubers\nand roots of the shrub. It seems to kill the fish by suffocation, and\ndoes not injure them for food; and as they do not die at once, but rise\nto the surface of the water, and dart hither and thither to evade the\npoison, there is not a little sport in spearing them or scooping them up\nin nets; at any rate, a Tuba-fishing is made a great occasion by all the\ntribes, and furnishes almost as fruitful a topic of conversation as a war\nexpedition. To none of the tribes is the sport more attractive than to\nthe Kenyahs, who live in the mountainous districts of the interior of the\nisland.\n\nThe streams usually selected for this form of fishing, are the\ntributaries of the larger rivers,\u2014mountain streams as clear and cool as\ncrystal, flowing over pebbly beds. High over-arching trees, draped and\nfestooned with ferns, orchids, and vines, ward off the heat of the sun\nand tone down its glare to that emerald, translucent green of damp, dense\ntropical forests. The swish and tinkle of the water as it rushes over the\nrapids above and below the deep pools which the fish frequent, and the\nmusical calls of the Wawa monkeys, alone break the stillness, until the\narrival of the merry, happy party of fishers from a Kenyah long-house.\nThe women are bedecked in their finery of gay head-gear and bright\nbead-work necklaces. The young, unmarried damsels prove to be the life of\nthe party, and are endlessly chaffing their lovers; the sidelong glances\nfrom beneath palm-leaf hats are as arch and coquettish as any ever cast\nfrom behind a spangled fan. Fun and innocent frolic rule supreme as\nthe canoes race and jostle with each other round sharp turns where the\nstream runs swift, or over the turbulent rapids. The women catch the\nexcitement of the fierce, desperate paddling; they stand up to the work,\ntheir jet-black hair streams over their shoulders, their tawny bodies\nsway with the boat as they dash from their paddles the \u2018tender, curving\nlines of creamy spray.\u2019 The men shout in triumph or laugh in defeat; and\neven the old crones cackle and urge on the youths to the sport. The scene\nis idyllic; there is nothing to revolt, everything to charm. Careless,\nuntamed life amid a tropical jungle is to be seen at its very fairest on\none of these Tuba-fishings among the Kenyahs.\n\nThe best time for the sport is during the dry season, when the rivers\nare low and the stones, left bare on the wide banks of the river, supply\nmaterial for the dams, where the fish may be \u2018rounded up.\u2019 A dam is\nbuilt of loose stones, either straight across the river, or else in a\nwedge-shape with the point up-stream, thus forcing the fish close to the\nbank on each side, where the chase is to end. When it has been built\nabout eighteen inches high, a platform of rattans, with little fences at\nthe sides, is placed in the centre of the dam or wherever the fish will\nbe apt to congregate. The up-river end of this platform rests on the\nbottom of the stream, and the down-river end is about on a level with the\nsurface of the water. In their mad endeavour to escape the suffocating\npoison, the fish make futile attempts to leap the dam, but by the force\nof the stream and their own exertions they land on the platform, where an\nactive watcher deals death to them with a stick.\n\n[Illustration: SCENE ON A LEVEL STRETCH OF RIVER IN THE\nCENTRAL-HIGHLANDS.]\n\nThe day before the expedition, all who wish to have a share in the fish\nmust contribute a due proportion of Tuba root, which is gathered in the\njungle and scorched over a fire to make it more virulent. After the Tuba\nhas been gathered and the day appointed for the fishing, then so much as\neven to breathe the name of Tuba is forbidden; if reference must be made\nto it, then it is to be called \u2018pakat Abong;\u2019 Abong is a strong-smelling\nroot something like Tuba, and pakat means _to agree upon_; thus, \u2018pakat\nAbong\u2019 means _what we have agreed to call Abong_. This concealment of\nthe truth deceives all the bats, birds, and insects, which are always\nkeen to report to the fish all the sayings and doings of men, and, as\nTuba has not been mentioned, no warning can be given. On one occasion,\nafter a Tuba-fishing had been planned for the morrow, one of our party\nnoticed a man with a bundle of roots, which he recognised as Tuba, and,\nfollowing the usual Bornean custom of asking a question when at loss for\na subject of conversation, inquired what was in the bundle. The reply\nwas \u2018pakat Abong.\u2019 \u2018Indeed,\u2019 said the questioner, \u2018I thought it looked\nlike Tuba.\u2019 At this mention of the fatal word, woe-begone looks passed\nround and every countenance fell, whereupon the Chief explained: \u2018We\nKenyahs call that root Abong when we wish to use its white juice, and\nthose animals which live in the water [avoiding the word _fish_] we call\n\u201cDaun\u201d [_leaves_] which float down stream; did we not do so, when we want\nto stupefy them with this juice, those good-for-nothing, prying beetles\ncalled \u201cBalli sunggong,\u201d or some other friends of the _leaves_ such as\nthe bats, or some kind of bird, would instantly carry the news of our\nintentions, and then where would be the use of all of our preparations?\nThe _leaves_ would quickly disperse, and we should have to return from\nour pleasant excursion empty-handed and hungry. They might even invoke\ntheir powerful charm-working _leaf_,\u2014the bony Balira,\u2014to call down heavy\nrains and make the streams rushing torrents, and then good-bye to all our\nsport. But calling things by their wrong names, we fool these _leaves\nthat float down stream_, and have a good day\u2019s sport out of them.\u2019\n\nThe \u2018Balira,\u2019 a fish full of bones and worthless as food, is supposed to\nbe the Dayong of the fish. The legend runs that the fishes, aware that\nthere was none among them who would devote himself to working charms,\ndetermined to elect a Dayong. No fish could be found to accept the office\nuntil, finally, the Balira offered his services on condition that every\nfish should give him one of his bones. They all agreed, with the result\nthat now the Balira is choke full of bones, and a very skilful worker of\ncharms to counteract the plans of mankind.\n\nThe boats assemble about a quarter of a mile above where the dam has\nbeen built in the river. On the bank, logs are placed, whereon the Tuba\nroots are pounded to a pulp, which is then swashed round and squeezed out\nin some of the smaller canoes, which have been half filled with water.\nThe men pound, keeping time with their blows; and again and again the\npulp is washed in the canoes until every drop of the sticky, white juice\nhas been extracted. Then whitish clay or lime is mixed with the poison,\nto make it sink and spread through the water. Sometimes as much as two\nor three hundred weight of roots are pounded up for one fishing, the\namount, of course, depending on the size of the stream. But before any\npoison is cast in, a certain quantity must be set aside for the Spirits.\nOne of the party, therefore, goes a little further up the stream to some\ninsignificant pool which has been left on the pebbly bank, (wherein\u2014alas!\nfor poor human nature,\u2014any one could see with half an eye that there was\nno fish,) and, pouring in the Tuba juice, he calls out:\u2014\u2018O Spirits of\nthe Rocks! of the Wood! of the Smooth, Flat Stones! of the Karangans!\nof the Earth! and of the Leaves! here in this pool is your share of the\nnumberless fish! Spoil not our sport by any interference!\u2019\n\nAfter this generous sacrifice has been made to the superior Powers, all\nthe boats assemble round the canoes containing the poison, which are then\nsuddenly tipped over, and the milk-white paste sinks to the bottom and\ncontaminates all the water. One man in a small canoe goes in advance of\nall the rest, and the first fish that rises to the surface is caught in a\nscoop-net and thrown out on the bank; at the same instant the man again\nshouts to the Spirits that this fish is for them, and that they ought\nnot grudge the small share that will probably fall to the lot of the\nparty. This pious duty having been performed, the fun at once grows fast\nand furious. With shouts and splashes and jeers and laughter, all the\ncanoes plunge into the chase after the fish which rise to the surface.\nAs every where under the cope of heaven, here, too, the funny man is on\nhand, and laughs uproariously at his own fun after he has excitedly given\nfalse directions as to where the largest fish are coming up, and mocking\nthose who miss their game; boats get entangled, but an occasional upset\ncreates no ill feeling; the occupants are soon back in their places, and\nengrossed with spearing and scooping up the fish. The very old and the\nvery young are stationed on the bank to catch the small fish or to drive\nthe larger ones from their hiding-places under the overhanging roots and\nbranches.\n\n[Illustration: FLAT PALM-LEAF HAT WORN BY WOMEN.\n\nTHE CENTRAL ORNAMENT IS COMPOSED OF YELLOW AND BLACK BEADS. THE SMALL,\nWHITE DECORATIONS, IN GROUPS OF THREE, ARE PORCELAIN SHIRT-BUTTONS, THE\nFIRST EVIDENCE OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF CIVILIZATION, INTRODUCED BY \u2018TRADE\u2019S\nUNFEELING TRAIN\u2019 AS SUBSTITUTES FOR COWRIE SHELLS.]\n\nSo the whole party slowly drift down-stream, heaping their boats with\nthe stupefied game until they reach the dam, where the man stationed\non the rattan platform, or \u2018Bering,\u2019 has had a busy time of it, too;\nnot only has he had to see to it that no fish escape, but he has also\nto keep a very keen look-out for his own safety; many of the fish have\nsharp, poisonous spines, which, if he be not careful, make ugly and\nexcruciatingly painful wounds in his feet.\n\nWhen all the fish possible have been caught, the party disembark,\nand fires are lit beneath green-wood platforms whereon the fish are\nspread after having been split and salted for future use. The plumpest\nand largest are always cooked and eaten on the spot by the keen-set\nfishermen, who revel, even to gorging, in the dainty change from their\nmonotonous daily fare of boiled rice and dried salted fish.\n\nWith canoes, and hampers, and bodies filled, as the low descending sun\nsends shafts of amber light down the long reaches of the river, the\nfishers again embark, and lazily dip their paddles in the glowing water\nas the current drifts them on their homeward way. The red-letter day is\nover, but the joy of it remains for ever in the laughing gossip round the\nevening hearth.\n\n[Illustration: A KENYAH GRAVE.]\n\n\n\n\nFOOTNOTES\n\n\n[1] See _Folk-lore in Borneo_, p. 29.\n\n[2] The substance of the following paragraphs appeared in a Paper which I\nread before the American Philosophical Society, 1896.\n\n[3] J. G. Frazer, _The Golden Bough_, p. 413.\n\n[4] For instances elsewhere of the observance of similar purification,\nsee _The Golden Bough_, FRAZER, vol. iii., p. 398 _et seq._\n\n[5] I asked to have these words repeated to me after the ceremony; they\nare as follows: \u2018Nilang megang beleuer, tebuku urip lakip makun alun!\u2019\nThis \u2018tebuku\u2019 (knotted cord) illustrates a custom among the Kayans and\nKenyahs which, I think, is noteworthy. When they wish to make a record\nof days or of things, they do so by tying knots either in a thin strip\nof rattan or in a cord of bark-fibre; this strip is called a \u2018tebuku.\u2019\nIt was a source to me of never-failing wonder to note how accurately\nand for what a length of time the maker of the strip can remember what\nevery knot represents. I have seen a \u2018tebuku tali\u2019 (\u2018tali\u2019 here means\n_strip_) wherein there were possibly three hundred knots, recording\nevery article seized in a raid on a long-house; every knot or group of\nknots represented an article or collection of articles, and the itemized\nlist was read off months and months afterward by the man who tied the\nknots, and, for aught I know, he could have remembered them for years. Of\ncourse, none could read it but the man who made it.\n\n[6] The words \u2018laram,\u2019 _cool_, and \u2018manin,\u2019 _hot_, are used\nidiomatically; if a man is told to do anything, he need not instantly\nobey, as long as the command is, as he says, still \u2018manin;\u2019 if a man lay\ndown a tool for which another has been waiting, the tool must not be\ninstantly picked up, it is still \u2018manin.\u2019 A heavy, or, perhaps, an unjust\nfine, is termed \u2018manin.\u2019 The sense in which the old Dayong here used the\nword \u2018laram\u2019 is, I think, quiet and firm, like Tama Bulan, not hot-headed\nand inconstant.\n\n[7] Aban Avit did not translate this, and I believe it is ancient Kayan,\nretained for its onomatopoetic sound.\n\n[8] \u2018Snappang,\u2019 the Malay name for a gun, imitates the sound of the\ndischarge. In the years following our Civil War the name, \u2018Ku Klux Klan,\u2019\nwas formed, it is said, from the sound of the cocking of a firearm.\n\n[9] Poles cut into shavings in this manner have a significance which\neven the Borneans have lost sight of; they never could or would give any\nreason therefor except that it was \u2018the custom.\u2019\n\n[10] DR. MORRIS JASTROW, JR., _Journal of Am. Oriental Soc._, 1900, xxi.,\np. 30 et seq.\n\n[11] See _The Golden Bough_, FRAZER, vol. i., p. 15.\n\n[12] See page 54 and photograph.\n\n[13] DR. WILLY K\u00dcKENTHAL, _Forschungsreise in den Molukken und in\nBorneo_, 1896, Tafel 42.\n\n[14] See also, to the same effect, _The Golden Bough_, vol. i., p. 26.\n\n[15] Allow me to call attention to the fact, whereof the significance I\nam hardly competent to judge, that in the Mohammedan Paradise \u2018the most\nremarkable tree is called T\u00fbba, or the tree of happiness,\u2019 which among\nits manifold blessings, \u2018will supply the blessed with food.\u2019 Sale\u2019s\n_Koran_. _Preliminary Discourse_, p. 68, ed. London, 1857.\n\n\n\n\nINDEX\n\n\n  Aban,\u2014the prefix to a name, 18, 55\n\n  Aban Avit, 55\n\n  Aban Avit\u2019s veranda, 57, 66\n\n  Aban Jau\u2019s house, 111\n\n  Aban Liah, 116\n\n  Aban Liah\u2019s final illness, 132\n\n  Abun, the Chief at Long Lama, 69\n\n  Admiration denoted by clucks, 101\n\n  Adorn, 26\n\n  Affection among the Borneans, 141\n\n  Amau,\u2014Omen birds and mammals, 160\n\n  Ambuscade, a Bornean, 83\n\n  Amok at Tama Aping Buling\u2019s, 134\n\n  Apoi, 27\n\n  Appreciation of photographs, 125\n\n  Appreciation of foreign songs, 27\n\n  Arrack, drinking of, at naming ceremony, 42\n\n  Attainment of paradise, 63\n\n  Attempt to deceive the Omen birds, 28\n\n\n  B\u00e1llo,\u2014the prefix to a name, 18\n\n  Bamboo, burning a strip of, to determine the giving of a name, 41\n\n  Bamboo, ceremonial use of ashes of, 41, 42\n\n  Bamboo drinking-cups, 107, 108\n\n  Bananas, salt, and ginger root given at a Naming, 35, 42\n\n  Batu, 76\n\n  Beads, Lukut sek\u00e1la, 118\n\n  Beads, imitation of valuable, 118\n\n  Belief in future life, 62\n\n  Benefits from skulls hung in veranda, 59\n\n  Berawans,\u2014Disposal of the dead, 139\n\n  \u2018Bintang sik\u00f3pa\u2019, 62\n\n  Bird\u2019s-nest caves, 178, 181\n\n  Blackening the teeth, 157\n\n  Blari, 27\n\n  Blood, indifference to sight of, 62\n\n  Blood of a fowl, inspection of, 50\n\n  Blow-pipes, the making of, 113\n\n  Blow-pipes among the Punans, 177\n\n  Borrowing a head, 88\n\n  Breaking a taboo, 115\n\n  Bulan, daughter of Tama Bulan, 29\n\n  Bulun matai, Fields of the Dead, 61\n\n  Burial in jars, 139\n\n  Burial of a Chief, 140\n\n  Burial custom in the Naga Hills of Assam, 144\n\n  Burial of Punans, 183\n\n\n  Calling the name to revive a dying person, 50\n\n  Camphor collecting, 167\n\n  Camphor collecting, pre-empting a river, 115\n\n  Camphor language, 168\n\n  Camphor, reluctance to mention, 17\n\n  Cases for war-coats, 8\n\n  Casting off the taboos of mourning, 92\n\n  Caves, bird\u2019s nest, 178-181\n\n  Ceremonial fire, 37\n\n  Ceremonies at the naming of a Chief\u2019s son, 16\n\n  Ceremonies on the return from a war expedition, 90\n\n  Changing name after sickness, 16\n\n  Chanting of returning warriors, 91\n\n  Charm to divert evil Spirits at the Lelak house, 99\n\n  Charms for abundant crops, 164\n\n  Charms worked with portraits of a person, 179\n\n  Children initiated as warriors, 92\n\n  Cigarette-making, 30\n\n  Clucking to denote admiration, 101\n\n  Communication between Omen birds and man, 162\n\n  Conjunctivitis, 26\n\n  Conveying thanks to Omen birds, 78\n\n  Cord of life,\u2014Tebuku urip,\u2014Naming Ceremony, 34\n\n  Corpse, presents to a, 166\n\n  Costume of Berawan women while mourning, 139\n\n  Costume of Kayans and Kenyahs, 21\n\n  Council Negri, 20\n\n  Council of war, 73\n\n  Crops, charms for abundant, 164\n\n  Cupping to relieve headache, 49\n\n  Curled shavings on sticks, 168\n\n  Cursing a house, 136\n\n\n  Daily routine of household, 12\n\n  Dancing performed by women of the Lelak household, 101\n\n  Dayong, the, in case of illness, 12\n\n  Dayong\u2019s attempt to recall a departing soul, 50\n\n  Dead bodies not carried through usual doorways, 52\n\n  Dead father\u2019s name not mentioned, 17\n\n  Death posts, 67\n\n  Decorated house posts, 56\n\n  Decorating grave of dead Chief, 94\n\n  Deer may not be cooked in the house, 71\n\n  Deng, 27\n\n  Depilation of eyebrows and eyelashes, 158\n\n  Designs tattooed on the legs and arms of Kayan and Kenyah women, 148\n\n  Determining a name by burning a loop of bamboo, 41\n\n  Disposal of the dead,\u2014Berawans, 139\n\n  Dogs, 8\n\n  Dreams, auspicious and prohibitory, to perforating the ears, 156\n\n  Drinking arrack at a Naming, 42\n\n  Drinking-cups, bamboo, 107, 108\n\n  Drinking a toast, 106\n\n  Dulit, Mount, 144\n\n\n  Ear-lobes, elongated, 153\n\n  Ear ornaments, 155\n\n  Ears, perforation of, 156\n\n  Early training of a Head-hunter, 54\n\n  Eating of the flesh of deer, 166\n\n  \u2018Eat slowly\u2019, 80\n\n  Edible bird\u2019s-nests, 178, 182\n\n  Education in indifference to sight of blood, 62\n\n  Eternal life in the jungle, 64\n\n  Etiquette in regard to weapons, 56\n\n  Etiquette in entering a house, 130\n\n  Evening chat with Aban Avit, 57\n\n  Evil omens in pig\u2019s liver at Aban Liah\u2019s feast, 121\n\n  Evil omen in pig\u2019s liver at Tama Aping Buling\u2019s, 132\n\n  Evil Spirits exorcised by fire, 28\n\n  Evil Spirits exorcised at the Naming ceremony, 33, 39\n\n  Evil Spirits exorcised by spitting, 28\n\n  Evil Spirits exorcised when a dog touches a rice-mortar, 165\n\n  Evil Spirits warded off by gong-beating, 34\n\n  Eyelashes and eyebrows depilated, 158\n\n  Exhortation to the sacrificial pig at Aban Liah\u2019s, 120\n\n  Exorcism of Evil Spirits, 28, 33, 39\n\n\n  Facsimile of valuable beads, 118\n\n  Family rooms (_Lamin_), 9\n\n  Fat pork feast at Naming ceremony, 44\n\n  Fear of making life-like images or pictures, 56\n\n  Feast at Tama Aping Buling\u2019s, 133\n\n  Feast after return of war party, 95\n\n  Feast, injunction at beginning of, 47\n\n  Feasting of a war party, 80\n\n  Female tattooers, 151\n\n  Fields of the dead, 61\n\n  Fine for violating a permantong, 12\n\n  Fire, a means of communicating with Omen birds, 4, 78\n\n  Fire, ceremonial, 37\n\n  Fire-drill, 37\n\n  Fireplaces, 4\n\n  Fire-saw, 37\n\n  Fish not spoken of before a Tuba fishing, 17, 186\n\n  Flattening heads, 158\n\n  Food, 11\n\n  Food of Punans, 175\n\n  Freeing women from mourning restrictions, 93\n\n  Future life, Belief in a, 62\n\n\n  Game of tag in the water, 14\n\n  Gathering edible bird\u2019s-nests, 182\n\n  Gau, 27\n\n  Ghost\u2019s clutch, 54\n\n  Ginger root, salt, and bananas given at Naming ceremony, 35, 42\n\n  Gong-beating to counteract effects of photography, 180\n\n  Gong-beating to ward off evil Spirits, 34\n\n  Government\u2019s pig at the feast at Tama Aping Buling\u2019s, 131\n\n  Grave, decoration of a Chief\u2019s, 94\n\n  Greeting, absence of signs of, 142\n\n  Grippe in Borneo, 25\n\n  Grippe at Tama Bulan\u2019s, 49\n\n  Guest chambers in Lelak house, 102\n\n\n  Handling of skulls, 65\n\n  Harvest festival, 164\n\n  Hawk-men,\u2014_Laki Niho_, 161\n\n  Head, borrowing a, 88\n\n  Head-flattening, 158\n\n  Head-hunter, early training of a, 54\n\n  Head-hunters, mark of successful, 147\n\n  Head-hunting, Origin of, 59\n\n  Head-hunting, punishment for, 69\n\n  Horn-bill, Image of, hung with cigarettes, 31\n\n  Hose, Dr. Charles, invitation to people of Batang Kayan, 109\n\n  House-building, 1, 3, 4\n\n  House-building, sacrifice, 3\n\n  House-posts, decorated, 56\n\n  Humble attitude of women, 171\n\n  Husking rice, 7\n\n\n  Iban ear ornaments, 156\n\n  Iban tattooing, 148\n\n  Ill luck consigned to miniature boat, 179\n\n  Images, fear of making life-like, 56\n\n  Image of horn-bill hung with cigarettes, 31\n\n  Images made to work evil as they decay, 93\n\n  Importance of a name, 18\n\n  Indemnity,\u2014_Usut_, 112, 163\n\n  Indifference to sight of blood, 62\n\n  Inflammation of the eyes, 26\n\n  Influence of skulls hung in the veranda, 65\n\n  Initiation of children as warriors, 92\n\n  Injunction at beginning of feast, 47\n\n  Ink for tattooing, 152\n\n  Inspection of pig\u2019s liver at Aban Liah\u2019s feast, 120\n\n  Inspection of spattering of blood from a fowl, 50\n\n  Instruction in the art of defence, 75\n\n  Invocation of the sacred pig at a Naming, 40\n\n  Invocation to the Spirits before a Tuba fishing, 188\n\n  Iron given for infringement of permantong, 163\n\n  Isit, the Omen-bird, 167\n\n\n  Jamma, 110\n\n  Jamma\u2019s curse on Tama Aping Buling\u2019s house, 136\n\n  Jamma\u2019s feigned death, 135\n\n  Jawa, 116, 130\n\n  Jawa, Violation of rules of, 129\n\n  Jawa, or peace-making, 97\n\n  Joke, a Bornean, 128\n\n  Journey to Tama Bulan\u2019s, 24\n\n  Juman, 68\n\n  Jungle, the, 64\n\n\n  Kaluri, kaludi, or kaleeri (musical instrument), 6\n\n  Kaluri among Naga tribes, 6\n\n  Kayan songs, 81\n\n  Kayan war dances, 101\n\n  Kayans and Kenyahs, 21\n\n  Kayans and Kenyahs, Costume of, 21\n\n  Kenyah lunar calendar, 31\n\n  Kayu urip,\u2014_Tree of life_, 34\n\n  Killing of Tinggi the murderer, 68\n\n  Kilup breaks the rules of Jawa, 129\n\n  Kissing, the Bornean custom, 13\n\n  Kromong, a musical instrument, 110\n\n  K\u00fckenthal, Dr. Willy, 105\n\n\n  Lack of affection, 141\n\n  Laid Jok Orang, 106\n\n  Laki La, 53\n\n  Laki Niho,\u2014_Hawk-men_, 161\n\n  Laki Oi, Kayan Prometheus, 37\n\n  Laki Pesong,\u2014the Fire-saw, 37\n\n  Lali, or permantong, 160\n\n  Lali of the pregnant rice, 164\n\n  Lali imposed on unnamed child, 32\n\n  Lali of mourning removed, 94\n\n  Lamin, or family rooms, 9\n\n  Language of camphor collectors, 168\n\n  Laram\u2014meaning cool\u2014idiomatic use of, 39\n\n  Legend about origin of head-hunting, 59\n\n  Lelak clan or tribe, 99\n\n  Lelak, guest chamber, 102\n\n  Leppu Anans, a small clan or tribe, 124\n\n  Leput,\u2014_blow-pipes_\u2014Manufacture of, 113\n\n  Leron clan, Jawa ceremonies, 117\n\n  Lijow, Tama Bulan\u2019s son, 42\n\n  Lishun, 26\n\n  Love tokens before a war expedition, 75\n\n  Lueng\u2019s death at Tama Bulan\u2019s, 49\n\n  Lukut Sek\u00e1la, valuable beads, 118\n\n  Lunar calendar, 31\n\n\n  Ma Obat, 84\n\n  Madong, 76\n\n  Manin,\u2014meaning warm\u2014idiomatic use of, 39\n\n  Manufacture of Sumpits or blow-pipes, 115\n\n  Mark of successful Head-hunter, 147\n\n  Marksmanship with the blow-pipe, 177\n\n  Maternal advice before a war expedition, 76\n\n  Meals, 11\n\n  Medicine, Rhinoceros used as, 176\n\n  Method of burial among the Berawans, 139\n\n  Method of tattooing, 151\n\n  Methods of resuscitating a fainting woman, 49\n\n  Miniature boat to carry away ill-luck, 179\n\n  Moon, Phases of, 31\n\n  Mosquitoes, 23\n\n  Mourning for a dead Chief, 139\n\n  Mourning, restrictions of, removed, 92\n\n  Mourning, restrictions of, removed from women, 93\n\n  Mount Dulit, 144\n\n  Musa\u2014the Fire-saw, 37\n\n  Music of the kaluri, 7\n\n  Music of the kromong, 111\n\n  Mutilation of the ears, 155\n\n\n  Naga Hills, burial customs in, 144\n\n  Nalika,\u2014the Fire-drill, 37\n\n  Name, determination of, 41\n\n  Name of dead father not mentioned, 17\n\n  Name, Reluctance in telling, 16\n\n  Name, Importance of, 18\n\n  Names of tattoo designs, 147\n\n  Names, Paraphrases of, 18\n\n  Names of relatives not mentioned, 17\n\n  Naming ceremonies, 16\n\n  Naming ceremonies, fat pork feast, 44\n\n  Naming ceremonies, exhortation of sacred pig, 40\n\n  Naming a Kenyah child, 32\n\n  New Fire, 37\n\n  Niah village and bird\u2019s-nest caves, 178\n\n  Night before a war expedition, 32\n\n  Nicknames of very young children, 74\n\n  Nipa palms, 23\n\n\n  Oaths on a tiger\u2019s tooth, 133\n\n  Object of a hunt not mentioned, 17\n\n  Objection to having idols photographed, 180\n\n  Observation of Omens before clearing of the jungle, 162\n\n  Occupations of the Punans, 175\n\n  Omen animals, 161\n\n  Omen birds and mammals\u2014amau, 160\n\n  Omen birds, attempts to deceive, 28\n\n  Omen birds, communication between man and the, 162\n\n  Omen birds conveying thanks to, 4, 78\n\n  Omen bird,\u2014Isit, 167\n\n  Omens in pig\u2019s liver, 43\n\n  Omens in pig\u2019s liver at Aban Liah\u2019s feast, 121\n\n  Omens in pig\u2019s liver at Tama Aping Buling\u2019s feast, 132\n\n  Omen birds of house-building, 4\n\n  Operation of wet-cupping, 49\n\n  Orang Kaya Perkassa, 178\n\n  Oratory, 73, 123\n\n  Ordeal of a feast of raw pork, 44\n\n  Origin of head-hunting, 59\n\n  Origin of Punans, Legend, 183\n\n  Ornaments worn in the ears, 155\n\n  Ornamentation of the teeth, 157\n\n\n  \u2018Pakat Abong\u2019, 186\n\n  Paradise, attainment of, 63\n\n  Parangs, taken off on entering a veranda, 56\n\n  Paraphrases of names, 18\n\n  Peace-making, or Jawa, 97\n\n  Perforation of the ears, 155\n\n  Permantong or Lali, 160\n\n  Permantong before house-building, 4\n\n  Permantong, breaking of a, 115\n\n  Permantong during sickness, 12\n\n  Permantong during camphor collecting, 169\n\n  Permantong, fine for violation of, 12\n\n  Permantong of a room, 12\n\n  Permantong in a Kayan house, 166\n\n  Permantong, infringement of, 163\n\n  Personal embellishment, 146\n\n  Pestles used in husking rice, 7\n\n  Phases of the moon, 31\n\n  Photographing the Punans, 174\n\n  Photographing idols, objection to, 180\n\n  Photography, evil effects of, 34\n\n  Photography, superstitions in regard to, 179\n\n  Pictures of animals always conventionalised, 56\n\n  Pig\u2019s liver, Omens consulted in, 43\n\n  Pipes, tobacco, 171\n\n  Planting the corner-post of a house, 3\n\n  Platforms on the veranda, 6\n\n  Plugs of brass in the teeth, 157\n\n  Portrait of a woman taken by Dr. K\u00fckenthal, 105\n\n  Posts recording head-hunts, 2, 67\n\n  Pre-empting a river for camphor collecting, 115\n\n  Prefixes of names, Meaning of, 55\n\n  Preliminary to speech-making, 122\n\n  Preparation for war expedition, 74\n\n  Presents to guests at Naming ceremony, 55\n\n  Presents to a corpse, 166\n\n  Presents sent to tribes on Batang Kayan River, 108\n\n  Primitive customs revived in all ceremonies, 90\n\n  Pronouncing a name for the first time at a Naming, 42\n\n  Propitiation of Spirits before tattooing, 151\n\n  Propriety in broaching a subject for discussion, 73\n\n  Punans, 170\n\n  Punans,\u2014burial customs, 183\n\n  Punans\u2019 bill of fare, 175\n\n  Punans\u2019 fear of water, 177\n\n  Punans\u2019 method of preparing tapioca, 176\n\n  Punans, relationship to Long Wats, 183\n\n  Punans, story of their origin, 183\n\n  Punans, Village of, 173\n\n  Punans, Village of, in bird\u2019s-nest caves, 184\n\n  Punishment for head-hunting, 69\n\n  Purification after unlucky journey, 28\n\n  \u2018Put,\u2019\u2014a blow-pipe, Manufacture of, 113\n\n\n  Rack on which parangs are hung, 56\n\n  Raw pork feast, 44\n\n  Reasons for obtaining heads, 65\n\n  Recalling the soul of a dying person, 50, 51\n\n  Relationship of Punans to Long Wats, 183\n\n  Religion of the Borneans, Negative, 64\n\n  Reluctance to mention the name of the object of a search, 17\n\n  Retaliation for the killing of Tinggi, 69\n\n  Return of a war expedition, 90\n\n  Return to earth of Spirits of the dead, 140\n\n  Rhinoceros used as medicine, 176\n\n  Rice husking, 7\n\n  Rice mortars, 7\n\n  Rice mortars protected during the Permantong Padi, 165\n\n  Rivers pre-empted for camphor collecting, 115\n\n  River scenery, 23\n\n  Rivers tabooed, sign of, 167\n\n  Rules of Tama Bulan\u2019s house, 20\n\n  Running amuck, 134\n\n\n  Sacrifice of slave girl\u2014house-building, 3\n\n  Sacrifice of slave girl at burial of a Chief, 140\n\n  Sacrifice of slave for education of boys, 62\n\n  Sacrifice of pig on arrival of a Peace party, 126\n\n  Salt, ginger root, and bananas given at a Naming, 35, 42\n\n  Second day\u2019s ceremony of Naming, 36\n\n  Serious consequences to us on account of Lueng\u2019s death, 52\n\n  Shaving the hair after mourning, 92\n\n  Shavings, curled, on sticks, 168\n\n  Shy Punan maiden, 172\n\n  Sign of permantong of a river, 167\n\n  Sign of permantong in case of sickness, 12\n\n  Singing among the Kayans, 81\n\n  Skulls, the handling of, 65\n\n  Skulls, influence of, hung in veranda, 65\n\n  Skulls in Aban Avit\u2019s veranda, 58\n\n  Slaves, sacrifice of, 62, 140\n\n  Sleeping-closets, 10\n\n  Smearing face and body with soot as sign of mourning, 139\n\n  \u2018Snappang,\u2019 the name for a gun, 68\n\n  Soap, 13\n\n  Songs, appreciation of foreign, 27\n\n  Speech-making, 73\n\n  Speech-making at Aban Liah\u2019s, 122\n\n  Spitting to banish evil Spirits, 28\n\n  Spitting on the hair cut off after mourning, 93\n\n  Sprinkling with water at a Naming, 39\n\n  Start of a war party, 77\n\n  Sticks cut into curled shavings, 168\n\n  Stinging ants, 177\n\n  Stretching the lobes of the ears, 153\n\n  Substitution of names, 17, 18, 55, 186\n\n  Summit of Mount Dulit, 144\n\n  Sumpits,\u2014_blow-pipes_\u2014Manufacture of, 113\n\n  Superstition with regard to photography, 179\n\n\n  Table manners, 11\n\n  Taboo or permantong, 160\n\n  Taboo, the breaking of, 115\n\n  Tag in the water, Game of, 14\n\n  \u2018Tama\u2019, 18\n\n  Tama Aping Buling\u2019s house, 127\n\n  Tama Balan Deng\u2019s house, 136\n\n  Tama Bulan, 18, 21\n\n  Tama Bulan\u2019s son, 30\n\n  Tama Bulan\u2019s farewell to the Peace party, 109\n\n  Tama Liri\u2019s house, 103\n\n  Tama Talun, 27\n\n  Tapioca, Method of preparation, 176\n\n  Tattoo designs, names of, 147\n\n  Tattooers, female, 151\n\n  Tattooing, propitiation of spirits before, 151\n\n  Tattooing of Kayan men, 146\n\n  Tattooing of Kayan and Kenyah women, 148\n\n  Tattooing needle and ink, 152\n\n  \u2018Tebok bulu,\u2019\u2014_bamboo cup_, 107\n\n  \u2018Tebuku Tali\u2019 (note), 34\n\n  \u2018Tebuku urip,\u2019\u2014_cord of life_, 34\n\n  Teeth, Ornamentation of, 157\n\n  Terluat, 27\n\n  Tiger skin regarded with awe, 133\n\n  Tiger skin used in uttering a curse, 136\n\n  Tiger\u2019s tooth, oath sworn on, 133\n\n  \u2018Tigga\u2019\u2014charms for the crops, 164\n\n  Timidity of Punans, 173\n\n  Tina\u2014a prefix to a name, 18\n\n  Tinggi, a murderer, 68\n\n  Toasts, the Bornean custom of giving, 105\n\n  Tobacco growing wild, 183\n\n  Tobacco pipes, 171\n\n  \u2018Toh Lali\u2019, 163\n\n  Tokong, the father of head-hunting, 59\n\n  Tone of voice of Punans, 174\n\n  Tree of life,\u2014Kaya Urip\u2014Naming ceremony, 34\n\n  Tuba ber\u00e1but, and Tuba ja jaran, 185\n\n  Tuba-fishing, 185\n\n  Tuba-fishing, fish not mentioned before, 17, 186\n\n  Tuba-fishing, invocation of spirits, 188\n\n\n  Unfavourable sign in pig\u2019s liver at Aban Liah\u2019s feast, 121\n\n  Unnamed children, 18, 32\n\n  Unselfish love not a trait of the Borneans, 141\n\n  \u2018Usut,\u2019 The rite of giving, 112, 163\n\n\n  Valuable beads,\u2014Lukut Sek\u00e1la, 118\n\n  Verandas of Kayan and Kenyah houses, 4\n\n  Violation of the rules of \u2018Jawa\u2019, 129\n\n\n  Wailing for the dead, 52, 138\n\n  War-coats, cases for, 8\n\n  War dances, 101\n\n  War expedition, 67\n\n  War expedition, ceremonies on return of, 90\n\n  War expedition, preparation for, 74\n\n  War party, the feasting of a, 80\n\n  Water, use of, in Naming ceremony, 39\n\n  Wawa monkey sacred to some families, 55\n\n  Weapons, etiquette in regard to, 56\n\n  Wet cupping, 49\n\n  Why the Balira is a bony fish, 187\n\n  Wild tobacco, 183\n\n  Wit of Borneans, 128\n\n  Women dressing as men, 164\n\n  Women, humble attitude of, 171\n\n  Wooden discs as ear-ornaments, 155\n\n  Words of invitation to a feast, 80","title":"The home-life of Borneo head-hunters : $b Its festivals and folk-lore","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":86093}