CHAPTER 14
Ideas of the Soul Illustrated by Burial Customs, Soul-Catching, and Exorcism
As among ourselves, several very different systems for the cure of sickness are practised among the Kayans, and these seem to imply very different theories of the cause of disease. But the Kayans, less consistent or more open-minded than ourselves, are not divided into sects, each following one system of therapeutics, but rather the various systems are held in honour by all the people, and one or the other is applied according to the indications of each case. Thus, bodily injuries received accidentally or in battle are treated surgically by cupping, splints, bandaging, and so forth. Familiar disorders, such as malarial fever, are treated medically, I.E. by rest and drugs. Cases of severe pain of unknown origin are generally attributed to the malign influence of some TOH,[105] and the method of treatment is usually that of extraction.[106] Madness also is generally attributed to possession by some TOH. But in cases of severe illness of mysterious origin that seems to threaten to end mortally, the theory generally adopted is that the patient's soul has left his body, and the treatment indicated is therefore an attempt to persuade the soul to return. The first two modes of treatment are not considered to demand the skill of a specialist for their application, but the third and fourth are undertaken only by those who have special powers and knowledge.
Among the Kayans the professional soul-catcher, the DAYONG, is generally a woman who has served a considerable period of apprenticeship with some older member of the profession, after having been admonished to take up this calling by some being met with in dreams — often a dream experienced during sickness. The DAYONG does not necessarily confine his or her activities to this one calling; for in a large village there are usually several DAYONGS, and the occasions demanding their services recur at considerable intervals of time. The relatives of the sick man usually prefer to call in a DAYONG from some other village. The DAYONG is expected to make the diagnosis and to determine upon the line of treatment to be practised. If he decides that the soul or BLUA of the patient has left his body, and has made some part of the journey towards the abode of departed souls, his task is to fall into a trance and to send his own soul to overtake that of his patient and to persuade it to return. The ceremony is usually performed by torch-light in the presence of a circle of interested relatives and friends, the patient being laid in the midst in the long public gallery of the house.
The DAYONG struts to and fro chanting a traditional form of words well known to the people, who join in the chorus at the close of each phrase, responding with "BALI-DAYONG," [107] I.E. "Oh powerful DAYONG;" the meaning and intention of this chorus seem to be that of the "Amen" with which a Christian congregation associates itself with the prayer offered by its pastor. For the chant with which the DAYONG begins his operations is essentially a prayer for help addressed to LAKI TENANGAN, or, in case of a woman, to DOH TEMANGAN also.
The DAYONG may or may not fall and lie inert upon the ground in the course of his trance; but throughout the greater part of the ceremony he continues to chant with closed eyes, describing with words and mimic gestures the doings of his own soul as it follows after and eventually overtakes that of the patient. When this point is reached his gestures generally express the difficulty and the severity of the efforts required to induce the soul to return; and the anxious relatives then usually encourage him by bringing out gongs or other articles of value, and depositing them as additions to the DAYONG'S fee. Thus stimulated, he usually succeeds in leading back the soul towards the patient's body. One feature of the ceremony, not quite logically consistent with its general scheme, is that the DAYONG takes in his hand a sword and, glancing at the polished blade with a startled air, seems to catch in it a glimpse of the wandering soul.[108] The next step is to restore the soul to the body. The DAYONG comes out of his trance with the air of one who is suddenly transported from distant scenes, and usually exhibits in his palm some small living creature, or it may be merely a grain of rice, a pebble, or bit of wood, in which the captured soul is in some sense contained. This he places on the top of the patient's head, and by rubbing causes it to pass into the head. The soul having been thus restored. to the body, it is necessary to prevent it escaping again; and this is done by tying a strip of palm-leaf about the patient's wrist.
A fowl is then killed, or, in very severe cases of sickness, a pig, and its blood is sprinkled or wiped by means of the sword or knife upon this confining bracelet. In mild cases the fowl may be merely waved over the head of the patient without being killed. The DAYONG then gives directions as to the MALAN (the tabus) to be observed by the patient, especially in regard to articles of diet, and retires, leaving his fee to be sent after him.
This ceremony clearly involves a curious confusion of symbolical and descriptive acts, which are not ordered in strict consistency with any clearly defined theory of the nature of the soul and of its relations to the body, or of the exact nature of the task of the soul-catcher.
The catching of souls is practised in very similar fashion among all the peoples of Borneo, even by the Punans, though the details of the procedure differ from tribe to tribe.
Mental derangement is commonly attributed to possession by evil TOH, and exorcism is practised among some of the tribes, but very little by the Kayans, who generally content themselves with confining any troublesome madman in a cage.
No doubt the catching of the soul does make strongly for the recovery of the patient, through inspiring him with hope and confidence. But it cannot always stave off death. If, in spite of the operations of one soul-catcher, the patient's strength still sinks, some other practitioner is usually called in for consultation. In the case of a chief the help of three or even four may be invoked successively or together; and the ceremony of catching the soul may be repeated again and again with greater elaboration of detail, and may be prolonged through many hours and even days with brief interruptions.
When all these efforts prove unavailing, despairing relatives sometimes put the end of a blow-pipe to the dying or dead man's ear (or merely their lips) and shout through it, "Come back, this is your home, here we have food ready for you." Sometimes the departed soul is believed to reply, "I am far from home, I am following a TOH and don't know the way back."
If, in spite of all these efforts, the patient dies, a drum is loudly beaten (or in case of a female a TAWAK) in order to announce the decease to relatives and friends gone before, the number of strokes depending upon the rank and sex of the departing spirit. The corpse is kept in the house during a period which varies from one night for people of the lower class, to three nights for middle class folk, and ten days for a chief. During this time the dead man lies in state. The corpse has a bead of some value under each eyelid;[109] it is dressed in his finest clothes and ornaments, and is enclosed within a coffin hollowed from a single log, the lid of which is sealed with resin and lashed round with rattans.
The coffin is covered with a particular design in red and black and white, and is placed in the gallery on a low platform, surrounded by the most valuable personal property of the dead man, whose family will take pains to make the display of property as imposing as possible. A fire is kept burning near the coffin, and small packets of cooked rice and of tobacco are placed upon it for the use of the dead man's soul. Hundreds of cigarettes are hung in bundles about the platform by people of the house, sent by them as tokens of kindly remembrance to their departed friends, who are believed to be able to recognise by smell the hands that made each bundle. During the whole period the dead man is attended continuously by at least two or three mourners, either relatives or, more rarely, hired mourners, who from time to time throughout both day and night wail loudly, renewing their wailing at the arrival of each party of friends or relatives.
These parties come in from neighbouring villages in response to news of the death sent them by special messengers, and in the case of an influential chief several thousand men and women sometimes congregate in this way to do him honour.
Upon the arrival of any person of importance, gongs and drums are beaten, and the dead man is informed of the fact by the DAYONG or by a relative. The visitor is led to a scat near the coffin, where he will sit silently or join in the wailing, until after a few minutes he enters into conversation with his hosts. When all the expected guests have arrived, pigs are slaughtered and a feast is made.
While the coffin lies in the house all noises other than the wailing are avoided in its immediate neighbourhood, and the children, dogs, and fowls are kept away from it. The DAYONG will sit beside the coffin occasionally brandishing a sword above it in order to keep in check the TOH who, attracted to the neighbourhood of the corpse, might grow too bold.
On the day appointed for the removal of the corpse it is the duty of the DAYONG to instruct the dead man's soul how to find his way to the other world; this he does, sitting beside the coffin and chanting aloud in doleful tones. For (curiously enough in view of the theory implied by the soul-catching ceremony) the man's soul is regarded as remaining in, or in the proximity of, the body so long as it remains in the house. This is one of several indications that the Kayans vaguely distinguish two souls — on the one hand the ghost-soul or shade, which in dreams wanders afar, on the other hand the vital principle. It would seem that so long as this vital spark remains in the body the ghost-soul may return to it; but that, when death is complete, this vital spark also departs, and then the ghost-soul will return no more.
The use of the word URIP further bears out this interpretation. In common speech URIP means alive, but it is applied also as a prefix to the names of those recently deceased, and seems to mark the speaker's sense of the continuance of the personality as that which has life in spite of the death of the body.
Thus BLUA and URIP seem to mark a distinction which in Europe in different ages has been marked by the words soul and spirit, ANIMA and ANIMUS, psyche and pneuma, and which was familiar also to the Hebrews. In this, of course, Kayan thought on this subject does but follow on the lines of many other peoples of more advanced civilisation.
When the DAYONG has completed his instructions, the rattan lashings about the head of the coffin are loosed. Since this is the moment at which the soul is believed to take its final departure from the body, it is probable that this custom of unlashing the coffin is connected with the idea of facilitating its escape, although we have obtained no definite statement to this effect. At the same time the fire that has been kept burning by the coffin is allowed to die out. To the coffin, which is shaped roughly like a boat, two small wooden figures are attached — a figure of a woman at the head, a male figure at its foot. These figures are not improbably a vestige of a bygone custom of killing slaves, whose souls would row the boat of the dead man on his journey to the other world. This interpretation is borne out by the fact that a live fowl is usually tied to one of these wooden figures. The coffin is then conveyed out of the house by lowering it to the ground with rattans, either through the floor, planks being taken up for the purpose, or under the caves at the side of the gallery. In this way they avoid carrying it down the house-ladder; and it seems to be felt that this precaution renders it more difficult for the ghost to find its way back to the house.[110] All this is done with great deliberation, the coffin being brought by easy stages to the river bank. There it is laid in a large boat gaily decorated with bright-coloured cloths, which is paddled down river to the graveyard, followed by the boats of the mourning friends, who refrain from speaking to any persons encountered on the way. The tombs of the village are on the river bank some quarter of a mile below the house, generally on the opposite bank. Here the final resting-place of the coffin has been prepared by erecting a great log of timber, which is large in proportion to the social standing of the dead man. In the case of a chief the log is of ironwood, some three feet or more in diameter and some thirty feet in length. One end of this is sunk some four or five feet into the ground. The erecting of such a massive support is a task of some difficulty, achieved by first digging the pit at the foot of the log and then hauling up the other end with a rough windlass. The upper end, which is always the root-end of the log, is cut in the form of a deep cleft, just wide enough to receive the coffin. Above the cleft a large slab of hardwood forms a cover for the coffin, and this is often elaborately carved (see Pls. 152, 153). In some cases two, and in others even four, smaller poles are used for the support of the coffin, but this usually only to avoid the labour of erecting one very large one. The coffin is lifted into this cleft by the aid of a scaffolding which is built around the large pole, and which afterwards falls away when the lashings are cut. On landing at the graveyard the mourners carry the coffin between the two parts of a cleft pole which are fixed in the ground so as to make a large V (this is called NYRING, the wall), and all the mourners are expected to pass through this cleft, each, in doing so, placing his foot upon a fowl which is laid bound upon the ground. The coffin is then lifted to its cleft, and the weapons, implements, and war clothes, the large hat, the cooking-pot, and in fact any articles of personal property that may be of use to the departing soul, are hung upon the tomb.[111] If a gong is hung up, it may be cracked or pierced beforehand, but it is not usual among Kayans to spoil other articles before hanging them on the tomb.[112] The scaffolding about the tomb is then caused to fall away, and it only remains for the mourners to purify themselves. This they do with the help of the lower jaws of the pigs that were consumed at the funeral feast. The jaws are placed together with water in a gong or other basin, and the DAYONG, taking a fowl's feather, sprinkles drops of water from the basin upon all the assembled mourners, pouring out the while a stream of words, the purport of which is — may all evil things, all sickness and such things be kept away from you. Then the mourners return in a single file through the V formed by the cleft pole, each one again placing his foot on the fowl (which dies before the end of the ceremony), spitting as he goes through, and exclaiming, "Keep off evil" (BALI JAAT, I.E. literally, spiritual or supernatural evil). When all have passed through, the upper ends of the two parts of the cleft pole are brought together and lashed round with rattans; and a small tree, pulled up by the roots, and having its branches cut away, is laid beside the pole with its roots turned towards the grave (this is called SELIKANG); and on the other side of the pole is put another vertical pole with a cross-piece tied at its upper end. Fire is left burning beside these structures. In this way the Kayans symbolically prevent any of the uncanny influences of the graveyard following the party back to the house; though they do not seem to be clear as to whether it is the ghosts of the dead, or the TOH of the neighbourhood, or those which may have contributed to his death, against whom these precautions are taken. This done, the whole party returns as quickly as possible to the village, halting only to bathe on the way.
The whole household of which the dead man was a member continues in mourning for a period which is long in proportion to his social standing; the mourning rules are observed most strictly by the nearest relatives. The signs of mourning are the wearing of bark-cloth or of clothes made yellow with clay, allowing the hair to grow on the parts of the head and face usually kept shaved,[113] and the putting aside of ornaments such as ear-rings, necklaces, or the substitution of wooden ear-rings for the metal ones commonly worn by the women. All music, feasts, and jollifications are avoided. The period of mourning can only be properly terminated by a ceremony in which a human head plays an essential part. Where the influence of the European governments has not made itself felt, the death of a chief necessitates the procuring of a fresh head, and a party may be sent out to cut off in the jungle, on the farms, or on the river, some small party of a hostile village. The common people must postpone the termination of their mourning until some such occasion presents itself. Nowadays in the districts in which head hunting has been suppressed, an old head, generally one surviving from an earlier period, is borrowed or begged for the purpose from another village, and is brought home with all the display properly belonging to a return from successful war (see Chap. X). As soon as the head is brought into the house the period of mourning terminates amid general rejoicing. The head, or a fragment of it, or the bundle of palm leaves (DAUN ISANG) with which it has been decorated, is hung upon the tomb.[114]
In case of any dispute regarding the division of the property of a dead man, his ghost may be called upon by a DAYONG and questioned as to the dead man's intentions; but this would not be done until after the harvest following upon the death. The ceremony is known as DAYONG JANOI. A small model of a house, perhaps a yard in width and length, is made and placed in the gallery beside the door of the dead man's chamber. Food and drink of various kinds as prepared for a feast are placed in this house, together with cigarettes. The DAYONG chants beside the house, calling upon the soul of the dead man to enter the soul-house, and mentioning the names of the members of his family. From time to time he looks in, and after some time announces that all the food and drink has been consumed. The people accept this statement as evidence that the ghost has entered the soul-house.[115] The DAYONG acts as though listening to the whispering of the soul within the house, starting and clucking from time to time. Then he announces the will of the ghost in regard to the distribution of the property, speaking in the first person and reproducing the phraseology and peculiarities of the dead man.[116] The directions so obtained are usually followed, and the dispute is thus terminated. But in some cases the people apply a certain test to verify the alleged presence of the ghost. A shallow dish (often a gong) of water is placed near the soul-house, and a ring-shaped armlet of shell is placed vertically in this basin, the water covering its lower half. A few fine fibres of the cotton-seed are thrown on to the surface of the water, and by tapping on the planks the people keep these in movement. If the threads float through the ring, that is conclusive evidence of the presence of the ghost; but so long as the threads cannot be got to pass through the ring, the people are not satisfied that the ghost is present.
Ideas of Life After Death
The soul of the dead man is supposed to wander on foot through the jungle until he reaches the crest of a mountain ridge. From this point he looks down upon the basin of a great river, the LONG MALAN, in which five districts are assigned as the dwelling-places of souls, the destination of each being determined by the mode of death. The ghosts of those who die through old age or disease go to APO LEGGAN, the largest of these districts, where they live very much as we do in this life. Those who die a violent death, whether in battle or or by accident, go to the basin of a tributary river, LONG JULAN, where is BAWANG DAHA (lake of blood); there they live in comfort, and become rich though they do no work: they have for wives the ghosts of women that have died in child-bed. Those that have been drowned find a home beneath the rivers, and are supposed to become possessed of all property lost in the water by their surviving friends; this place (or places) bears the name of LING YANG. The souls of still-born children dwell in TENYU LALU; they are believed to be very brave, owing to their having experienced no pain in this world. Finally, suicides[117] have assigned to them a special district, TAN TEKKAN, where they live miserably, eating only roots, berries, and other jungle produce.
Other districts of this great country are vaguely assigned to the souls of Malays and other peoples. It is generally said that the left bank of the river is the place of the tribes of Borneo, while the right bank is assigned to all other peoples; and the soul is especially warned by the DAYONG to avoid the right bank lest it should find itself among foreigners. These beliefs seem to involve some faint rudiment of the doctrine of POST-MORTEM retribution or, at least, compensation, — a rudiment which does not appear in the beliefs of the other peoples.
The departed soul standing on the mountain ridge surveys these regions; and it is not until he stops here to rest that he becomes aware that he is finally separated from his body. This fact is brought home to him by the arrival of the ghost-souls of the various articles hung upon his tomb, which hurry after him, but only overtake him at this his first resting-place; and he bewails his unhappy fate.
There are current among Kayans several versions of the further journey of the soul. The ghost descends the mountain to the banks of LONG MALAN, which river he must cross to reach his appointed place. The river must be crossed by means of a bridge consisting of a single large log suspended from bank to bank. This log, BITANG SEKOPA, is constantly agitated by a guardian, MALIGANG by name. If the ghost has during the earthly life taken a head, or even merely taken part in a successful head-hunting raid, a fact indicated by the tatuing of the hands, he crosses this bridge without difficulty; but if not, he falls below and is consumed by maggots or, according to another version, is devoured by a large fish, PATAN, and so is destroyed. When the ghost reaches the other bank, he is greeted by those of his friends who have gone before, and they lead him to their village. Some part of the journey is generally regarded as made by boat, though it is not possible to make this fit consistently into the general scheme. Another point on which opinion is very vague is the part played by LAKI JUP URIP, a deity or spirit whose function it is to guide the souls to their proper destinations.
In many Kayan villages stories are told of persons who are believed to have died and to have come to life again. This belief seems to have arisen in every case from the person having lain in a trance for some days, during which he was regarded as dead. The Kayans accept the cessation of respiration as evidence of death, and they assert that these persons cease to breathe.[118]
It seems that such persons usually give some account of their experiences during the period in which they have deserted their bodies. They usually allege that they have traversed a part of the road to the land of shades, and describe it in terms agreeing more or less closely with the traditional account of it current among the Kayans. Since in these cases the person is thought to be dead, no efforts are made by the DAYONG to lead back his departing soul, and its return has to be explained in some other way. In some cases the returned soul describes how he was turned back by MALIGANG, the awful being who guards the bridge across the river of death.[119]
Mr. R. S. Douglas, Resident of Baram, has recently reported a similar belief held by the Muriks, a Klemantan tribe, where it is supported by the following legend. The soul or spirit of a certain man, UKU PANDAH by name, left his body two years before the time appointed as the term of its incorporate life, and gained admittance to the land of shades in the shape of a pig. It was, however, recognised by the ruler of that land, and ordered by him to return to its mortal body. The command was obeyed, and UKU PANDAH, having been dead for two days, came to life again and lived for two years, during which he described to his friends the country of the dead of which he had thus obtained a glimpse; and this knowledge has been preserved by the tribe.
The beliefs and traditions of the various tribes in regard to the other world seem to have been confused through the intercourse between them, so that it is not possible to mark off clearly what features properly belong to each of the tribes. The general features are. similar with all the peoples. The Kenyah story is very similar to that of the Kayans, though the names of the various places are different, and they usually conceive the first part of the soul's journey as being made by boat on the river.
TAMA KAJAN ODOH, the MADANG chief whose line of descent from BALINGO is given on p. 12, vol. ii., made us a rough map of the land of the shades (Fig. 78) and of the country traversed by the ghost on its journey thither. This was done in the way maps of their own country are always made by the Borneans, namely, he laid upon the floor bits of stick and other small objects to represent the principal topographical features and relations. We tested the trustworthiness of his account by asking him to repeat it on a subsequent occasion; when he did so without any noteworthy departure from the former description. A point of special interest is the appearance in the land of shades of the house of BALI PENYALONG and of OKO PERBUNGAN (which seems to be the MADANG name for the wife of the Supreme Being). This map brings out clearly what seems to be the essential feature of all these schemes, namely, that the land of shades is the basin of a river divided by a mountain ridge from that from which the ghost departs.
The Punans add some picturesque incidents. According to their version, a huge helmeted hornbill[120] (RHINOFLAX VIGIL) sits by the far end of the bridge across the river of death, and with its screams tries to terrify the ghost, so that it shall fall from the bridge into the jaws of the great fish which is in league with the bird. On the other side of the river IS UNGAP, a woman with a cauldron and spear. UNGAP, if appeased with a gift, aids the ghost to escape from the monstrous bird and fish. Pebbles or beads are put in the nostrils of the Punan corpse in order that they may be presented to UNGAP.
The Punans recite or sing a story in blank verse descriptive of this passage of the soul. It is sometimes sung in very dramatic fashion, the performer acting the principal incidents and pitching his voice in a doleful, though musical, minor key. Such a recitation of the passage of the soul, delivered by a wild and tragic figure before an intently listening group of squatting men and women illuminated by flickering torchlight, is by no means unimpressive to the European observer. The following lines are a rough literal translation of a fragment of the story which describes the meeting with UNGAP of BATANG MIJONG, a departed soul: —
UNGAP SPEAKS —
BATANG MIJONG stands waving his shield.
The helmsman SARAMIN with body of brass will carry over BATANG MIJONG.
BATANG MIJONG seeks the place of the Punans.
Good journey to you, BATANG MIJONG.
BATANG MIJONG, O, why are you called?
BATANG MIJONG SPEAKS: —
Why do you question me, why do you stare at me?
UNGAP ANSWERS —
Your limbs are shapely, smooth is your skin and slender your body.
My eyes are dazzled by your bodily perfections.
Some of the Malanaus, one of the many branches of the Klemantan people, hold peculiar views about the soul. Each man is credited with two souls. After his death one of these goes to some region in the heavens where it becomes a good spirit that assists at the BAYOH ceremonies.[121] The other makes a journey to a world of the dead much like APO LEGGAN of the Kayans; and the journey involves the crossing of the river on a single log, the passage of which is disputed by a malign being, who tries to shake the nerve of the ghost by flinging ashes at him as he traverses the bridge. Other Malanaus (of Muka) describe this opposing power as a twoheaded dog, MAIWIANG by name, whom it is necessary to propitiate with the gift of a valuable bead. For this reason a bead of some value is fastened to the right arm of the corpse before the coffin is closed. It is said of the Malanaus that they were formerly in the habit of killing several slaves at the tomb of a chief; and, since it was believed that, if the victims died a violent death, their souls would not go to the same place as the dead chief, and would thus be of no service, they were allowed to die from exposure to the sun while bound to the tomb. Now that homicide is prohibited, these people arrange a great cock-fight; and there can be little doubt that the death of many of the birds is felt to compensate in some degree for the enforced abstention from homicide.
The last case on record of the killing of a slave at the entombment of a chief occurred about fifteen years ago among the Orang Bukits (Klemantans) in Bruni territory. The son of the dead chief (Datu Gunong) went to Bruni city, and there bought an aged slave from one of the principal officers of state. The slave was kept in a bamboo cage until the day of entombment, when he was killed, each of the funeral guests inflicting a small wound with a spear. His head was hung on the tomb. From circumstantial accounts of this incident which reached one of us, we infer that those who took part in this brutal act were moved only by a sense of duty and that the co-operation was repugnant to all of them.[122]
Exorcism
The Kayans, as well as most of the peoples, regard madness as due to possession by an evil spirit,[123] but the Malanaus extend this theory to many other forms of disease, and practise an elaborate rite of exorcism. This will be described in the chapter (XVI.) dealing with charms and magical practices.
It will be gathered from what has been said in the foregoing pages that the life after death is regarded as not in any way very different from this life, as neither a very superior nor an inferior condition; although, as we have said, those who die a violent death are believed to have a rather better lot, and suicides a worse fate, than others. Social distinction and consideration, especially such as is achieved by the taking of heads in war, is carried over into the life after death; and men are anxious that outward marks of such distinction should go with them. This is undoubtedly one of the grounds for tatuing the body. Among the Kayans a man's hands are only fully tatued when he has taken a head; while the social status of a woman is marked by the degree of fineness of the tatuing.[124] It follows that death is neither greatly feared nor desired; but an old man will sometimes affirm that he is quite ready or even desirous to die, although he may seem cheerful and fairly vigorous.
The Kayans believe in the reincarnation of the soul, although this belief is not clearly harmonised with the belief in the life in another world. It is generally believed that the soul of a grandfather may pass into one of his grandchildren, and an old man will try to secure the passage of his soul to a favourite grandchild by holding it above his head from time to time. The grandfather usually gives up his name to his eldest grandson, and reassumes the original name of his childhood with the prefix or title LAKI, and the custom seems to be connected with this belief or hope. There is no means of discovering whether the hope is realised. The human soul may also, in the belief of all the peoples, be reincarnated in the body of almost any animal; but opinions in regard to this matter are very vague. Thus the Kayans believe that the objection of the Mohammedan Malays to the eating of pig is due to reincarnation of their souls in animals of that species, which belief naturally causes some vexation to the Malay traders.
Among the Kayans and other peoples sceptics are to be found, and, as no inquisitorial methods are in vogue among them, such persons will on occasion give expression to their doubts about the accepted dogmas, although speech about such topics is generally repressed by some touch of awe. One man, for example, argued in our hearing that he could hardly believe that man continues to exist after death, for, said he, if men and women still lived after death, some of those who have been very fond of their children would surely return to see them, and would be in some way perceived by the living. But all such discussions are usually terminated with the remark, "NUSI JAM?" ("Who knows?")
The Kenyahs' disposal of their dead is very similar in all respects to the Kayan practice. But the burial customs of most of the Klemantan tribes are different. Their usual practice is to keep the coffin containing the corpse in the gallery of the house until the period of mourning is terminated. A bamboo tube carried down through the floor to the ground permits the escape of fluids resulting from decomposition. The coffin itself is sealed closely with wax, and elaborately decorated with carved and painted wood-work. After several months or even years have elapsed a feast is made (the feast of the bones); the coffin is opened and the bones taken out and cleaned. They are then packed into a smaller coffin or a large ovoid jar, which is carried to the village cemetery. There it is placed either in the hollowed upper end of a massive post, or into a large wooden chamber containing, or to contain, the remains of several persons, generally near relatives. These tombs are in many cases very elaborately decorated with painted woodwork.
Since the Klemantans who use the jar to contain the bones are not capable of making such large jars, but procure jars of Indo-Chinese and Chinese manufacture, it seems probable that the jars are comparatively modern substitutes for the smaller wooden coffin or bone-box. Only the richer folk can afford the luxury of a jar.
A rather different procedure is sometimes adopted by the same Klemantans who use the wooden coffins, namely, the corpse is placed in a jar a few days after death. Since the mouth of the jar is generally too small to admit the corpse the jar is broken horizontally into two parts by the following ingenious procedure. The jar is sunk in the water of the river until it is full of water and wholly submerged; it is held horizontally by two men, one at either end, just beneath the surface of the water. A third man strikes a sharp downward blow with an axe upon the widest circumference of the jar; it is then turned over and he strikes a second blow upon the same circumference at a spot opposite to the first. At the second stroke the jar falls in two, sometimes as cleanly and nicely broken as though cut with a saw.[125] The corpse is then packed in with its knees tied closely under the chin; the upper part of the jar is replaced and sealed on with wax. When the time of the feast of the bones arrives, the jar is reopened, the bones cleaned, and replaced in the jar.
This mode of jar burial is commonly practised by the Muruts, and is commoner in the northern parts of the island than elsewhere. It may be added that the jars used are generally valuable old jars, and that the cheap modern copies of them find little favour.
The Klemantans put selected pieces of the property of the deceased within the tomb, but do not generally hang them on it externally as the Kayans and Kenyahs do.
The Sea Dayaks bury their dead in the earth, generally in a village graveyard on the river banks not far from the house. The body, together with personal property, is merely wrapped in mats and laid in a grave some three feet in depth. It is not usual to keep it in the house for some days as the Kayans do, and the burial is effected with comparatively little ceremony. The grave of the common man is not marked with any monument, but that of a chief may be marked by a SUNGKUP; this consists of two pairs of stout posts, at head and feet respectively; each pair is erected in the form of an oblique cross; the upper end of each post is carved in decorative fashion. Two broad planks laid between the lower parts of these crossed posts form a roof to the grave. In the case of a man noted for great success in farming or fighting, a bamboo tube may be sunk through the earth to the spot just above the root of the nose, and through this they speak to him and pour rice spirit in order to strengthen their appeal.
The Land Dayaks of upper Sarawak, as well as some other Klemantan tribes in South Borneo, are peculiar in that they burn the dead, or the bones alone after the flesh has dropped away. The burning of the whole body is in some tribes carried out by the richer families only; the bodies that are not burned are buried in the earth.
CHAPTER 15
Animistic Beliefs Connected with Animals and Plants[126]
Many of the animals, both wild and domesticated, are held by the Kenyahs in peculiar regard; those that most influence their conduct are the omen-birds, and among the omen-birds the common white-headed carrion-hawk (HALIASTER INTERMEDIUS) is by far the most important. The Kenyahs always observe the movements of this hawk with keen interest, for by a well-established code of rules they interpret his movements in the heavens as signs by which they must be guided in many matters of moment, especially in the conduct of warlike or any other dangerous expeditions.[127] The hawk is always spoken of and addressed as BALI FLAKI, and is formally consulted before any party of Kenyahs sets out from home for distant parts.
To illustrate the formalities with which they read the omens we will transcribe here a passage from a journal kept by one of us. The occasion of the incidents described was the setting out of a large body of Kenyahs from the house of Tama Bulan (Pl. 27), a chief who by his personal merits had attained to a position of great influence among the other Kenyah chiefs, and who had been confirmed in his authority by His Highness the Rajah of Sarawak. The object of the expedition was to visit and make peace with another great fighting tribe, the Madangs, who live in the remotest interior of Borneo.[128] Tama Bulan, whose belief in the value of the omens had been slightly shaken, was willing to start without ceremonies, and to make those powers which he believed to protect us responsible for himself and his people also. But the people had begged him not to neglect the traditional rites, and he had yielded to their wishes.
At break of day, before I was up, Tama Bulan was washed by the women at the river's brink with water and the blood of pigs to purify him for his journey, and later in the morning the people set to work to seek omens and a guarantee of their safety on the journey from the hawks that are so numerous here. A small shelter of sticks and leaves was made on the river-bank before the house, and the women having been sent to their rooms, three men of the upper class[129] sat under this leaf-shelter beside a small fire, and searched the sky for hawks. After sitting there silently for about an hour the three men suddenly became animated; one of them took in his right hand a small chick and a stick frayed by many deep cuts with a knife, and waved them repeatedly from left to right, at the same time pouring out a rapid flood of words. They had caught sight of a hawk high up and far away from them, and they were trying to persuade it to fly towards the right. Presently the hawk, a tiny speck in the sky, sailed slowly out of sight behind a hill on the right, and the men settled themselves to watch for a second hawk which must fly towards the left, and a third which must circle round and round. In the course of about half-an-hour two hawks had obligingly put in an appearance, and behaved just as it was hoped and desired that they should behave; and so this part of the business was finished, and about a score of men bustled about preparing for the next act. They brought many fowls and several young pigs, and a bundle of long poles pointed at either end. Before the house stand upright two great boles of timber; the upper end of each of them is carved into a rude face and crowned with a brass gong (Pl. 157). These are two images of the one Supreme Being, Bali Penyalong, and they seem to be at the same time the altars of the god. A tall young tree, stripped of all but its topmost twigs, stands beside one of them, and is supposed to reach to heaven or, at least, by its greater proximity to the regions above, to facilitate intercourse. As to the meaning of this and many other features of these rites it is impossible to form any exact idea, for the opinions of these people in such matters are hardly less vague and diversified than those of more civilized worshippers. Tama Bulan, in his character of high priest,[130] took his stand before one of these images, while a nephew, one of the three men who had watched the hawks, officiated before the other and went through exactly the same ceremonies as his uncle, at the same time with him. Tama Bulan held a small bamboo water-vessel in his left hand, and with a frayed stick in his right hand sprinkled some of the water on the image, all the time looking up into its face and rapidly repeating a set form of words. Presently he took a fowl, snipped off its head and sprinkled its blood upon the image, and so again with another and another fowl. Then he held a young pig while a follower gashed its throat, and as the blood leapt out he scattered it on the image, while the score of men standing round about put their hands, some on him, some on one another; maintaining in this way physical contact with one another and with their leader, they joined in the prayer or incantation which he kept pouring forth in the same rapid mechanical fashion in which many a curate at home reads the Church service. In the house, meanwhile, four boys were pounding at two big drums to keep away from the worshippers all sounds but the words of their own prayers.[131] Then another fowl and another pig were sacrificed in similar fashion at each altar, and the second part of the rite was finished by the men sticking the carcases of the slaughtered beasts each one on the point of a pole, and fixing the poles upright in the earth before the images.
Tama Bulan now came up into the house to perform the third and last act. A pig was brought and laid bound upon the floor, and Tama Bulan, stooping, with a sword in his right hand, kept punching the pig gently behind the shoulder as though to keep its attention, and addressed it with a rapid flow of words, each phrase beginning "O Bali Bouin." The pig's throat was then cut by an attendant, and Tama Bulan, standing up, diluted its blood with water and scattered it abroad over all of us as we stood round about him, while he still kept up the rapid patter of words. Then he pulled off the head of a fowl and concluded the rites by once more sprinkling us all with blood and water. Everyone seemed relieved and well satisfied to have got through this important business, and to have secured protectors for all the party during the forthcoming journey. For the three hawks will watch over them, and are held to have given them explicit guarantees of safety. The frayed stick that had figured so largely in the rites was stuck under the rafters of the roof among a row of others previously used, and there it will remain, a sign and a pledge of the piety of the people, as long as the house shall stand. And then as Tama Bulan, pretty well covered with blood, went away to wash himself, I felt as though I had just lived through a book of the AENEID, and was about to follow Father Aeneas to the shores of Latium.
This elaborate rite, so well fitted to set agoing the speculative fancy of any one acquainted with the writings of Robertson Smith and Messrs. Jevons and Frazer, was one of the first that we witnessed together. After giving all our facts we shall return to discuss some of the interesting questions raised by it, but it will be seen that we are far from having discovered satisfactory explanations of all its features. Obscure features to which we would direct attention are the use of the fire and the frayed stick, for these figure in almost all rites in which the omen-birds are consulted or prayers and sacrifices made. The Kenyahs seem to feel that the purpose of fire is to carry up the prayers to heaven by means of the ascending flame and smoke, in somewhat the same way as the tall pole planted by the side of the image of Bali Penyalong facilitates communion with the spirit; for they conceive him as dwelling somewhere above the earth.
Before going out to attack an enemy, omens are always sought in the way we have described, and if the expedition is successful the warriors bring home not only the heads of the slain enemy, but also pieces of their flesh, which they fix upon poles before the house, one for each family, as a thank-offering to Bali Flaki for his guidance and protection. It seldom occurs that a hawk actually takes or eats these pieces of flesh, and that does not seem to be expected. Without favourable omens from the hawks Kenyahs will not set out on any expedition, and even when they have secured them, they still anxiously look out for further guidance, and may be stopped or turned back at any time by unfavourable omens. Thus, should a hawk fly over their boat going in the same direction as themselves, this is a good omen; but if one should fly towards them as they travel, and especially if it should scream as it does so, this is a terribly bad omen, and only in case they can obtain other very favourable omens to counteract the impression made by it will they continue their journey. If one of a party dies on the journey, they will stop for one whole day for fear of offending Bali Flaki. If a hawk should scream just as they are about to deliver an attack, that means that some of the elder men will be killed in the battle.
Bali Flaki is also consulted before sowing and harvesting the rice crop, but besides being appealed to publicly on behalf of the whole community, his aid may be sought privately by any man who wishes to injure another. For this purpose a man makes a rough wooden image in human form, and retires to some quiet spot on the river bank where he sets up a TEGULUN, a horizontal pole supported about a yard above the ground by a pair of vertical poles. He lights a small fire beside the TEGULUN, and, taking a fowl in one hand, he sits on the ground behind it so as to see through it a square patch of sky,[132] and so waits until a hawk becomes visible upon this patch. As soon as a hawk appears he kills the fowl, and with a frayed stick smears its blood on the wooden image, saying, "Put fat in his mouth" (which means "Let his head be taken and fed with fat in the usual way"), and he puts a bit of fat in the mouth of the image. Then he strikes at the breast of the image with a small wooden spear, and throws it into a pool of water reddened with red earth, and then takes it out and buries it in the ground. While the hawk is visible, he waves it towards the left; for he knows that if it flies to the left he will prevail over his enemy, but that if it goes to the right his enemy is too strong for him.
When a new house is built, a wooden image of Bali Flaki with wings extended is put up before it, and an offering of mixed food is put on a little shelf before the image, and at times, especially after getting good omens from the hawks, it is offered bits of flesh and is smeared with pig's blood. If the people have good luck in their new house, they renew the image; but if not, they usually allow it to fall into decay. If, when a man is sitting down to a meal, he espies a hawk in the heavens, he will throw a morsel of food towards it, exclaiming, "Bali Flaki!"
We have seen that during the formal consultation of the hawks the women are sent to their rooms. Nevertheless many women keep in the cupboards in which they sleep a wooden image of the hawk with a few feathers stuck upon it. If the woman falls sick she will take one of these feathers and, waving it to and fro, will say, "Tell the bad spirit that is making me sick that I have a feather of Bali Flaki." When she recovers her health Bali Flaki has the credit of it.
Although Kenyahs will not kill a hawk, they would-not prevent us from shooting one if it stole their chickens; for they say that a hawk who will do that is a low-class fellow, a cad, in fact, for there are social grades among the hawks just as there are among themselves.
Although the Kenyahs thus look to Bali Flaki to guide them and help them in many ways, and express gratitude towards him, we do not think that they conceive of him as a single great spirit, as some of the other tribes tend to do; they rather look upon the hawks as messengers and intermediators between themselves and Bali Penyalong,[133] to which a certain undefined amount of power is delegated. No doubt it is a vulgar error with them, as in the case of professors of other forms of belief, to forget in some degree the Supreme Being, and to direct their prayers and thanks almost exclusively to the subordinate power, which, having
concrete forms, they can more easily keep before their minds. They regard favourable omens as given for their encouragement, and bad omens as friendly warnings.[134] We were told by one very intelligent Kenyah that he supposed that the hawks, having been so frequently sent by Bali Penyalong to give them warnings, had learnt how to do this of their own will, and that sometimes they probably do give them warning or encouragement independently without being sent by him.
All Kenyahs hold Bali Flaki in the same peculiar regard, and no individuals or sections of them claim to be especially favoured by him or claim to be related to him by blood or descent.
Other Omen-birds
Kenyahs obtain omens of less importance from several other birds. When favourable omens have been given by the hawks, some prominent man is always sent out to sit on the river-bank beside a small fire and watch and listen for these other birds. Their movements and cries are the signs which he interprets as omens, confirming or weakening the import of those given by the hawks. Of these other omens the most regarded are those given by the three species of the spider-hunter (ARACHNOTHERA CHRYSOGENYS, A. MODESTA, and A. LONGIROSTRIS). All three species are known as "Sit" or "Isit." When travelling on the river, the Kenyahs hope to see "Isit" fly across from left to right as they sit facing the bow of the canoe. When this happens they call out loudly, saying, "O, Isit on the left hand! Give us long life, help us in our undertaking, help us to find what we are seeking, make our enemies feeble." They usually stop their canoes, land on the bank, and, after making a small fire, say to it, "Tell Isit to help us." Each man of the party will light a cigarette in order that he may have his own small fire, and will murmur some part at least of the usual formulas. After seeing "Isit" on their left, they like to see him again on their right side.
Next in importance to the spider-hunters are the three varieties of the trogan (HARPACTES DIARDI, H. DUVAUCELII, and H. KASUMBA). They like to hear the trogan calling quietly while he sits on a tree to their left; but if he is on their right, the omen is only a little less favourable.[135] On hearing the trogan's cry, they own it, as they say, by shouting to it and by stopping to light a fire just as in the case of "Isit."
KIENG, the woodpecker (LEPOCESTES PORPHYROMELAS), has two notes, one of which is of good, the other of had omen. If they have secured good omens from the birds already mentioned, they will then try to avoid hearing KIENG, lest he should utter the note of evil omen; so they sing and talk and rattle their paddles on the sides of the boat.
Other omen-birds of less importance are ASI (CARCINEUTES MELANOPS), whose note warns them of difficulties in their path, and UKANG (SASIA ABNORMIS), whose note means good luck for them. TELAJAN, the crested rain-bird (PLATYLOPHUS CORONATUS), announces good luck by its call and warns of serious difficulties also.
KONG, the hornbill (ANORRHINUS COMATUS), gives omens of minor importance by his strange deep cry. The handsome feathers of another species of hornbill (BUCEROS RHINOCEROS), with bold bars of black and white, are worn on war-coats and stuck in the war-caps by men who are tried warriors, but may not be worn by mere youths. The substance of the beak of the helmeted hornbill (RHINOFLAX VIGIL) is sometimes carved into the form of the canine tooth of the tiger-cat, and a pair of these is the most valued kind of ear-ornament for men. Only elderly men, or men who have taken heads with their own hands, may wear them. One of the popular dances consists in a comical imitation of the movements of the hornbill, but no special significance attaches to the dance; it seems to be done purely in a spirit of fun. Young hornbills are occasionally kept in the house as pets.
We know of no other bird that plays any part in the religious life of the Kenyahs or affects them in any peculiar manner.
The Pig
All Kenyahs keep numerous domestic pigs, which roam beneath and about the house, picking up what garbage they can find to eke out the scanty meals of rice-dust and chaff given them by the women. It seems that they seldom or never take to the jungle and become feral, although they are not confined in any way.
The domestic pig is not treated with any show of reverence, but rather with the greatest contumely, and yet it plays a part in almost all religious ceremonies, and before it is slaughtered explanations are always offered to it, and it is assured that it is not to be eaten. We have seen that, in the rites preparatory to an important and dangerous expedition, the chief was washed with pig's blood and water, and that young pigs were slain before the altar-post of Bali Penyalong, and their blood sprinkled on the post and afterwards upon all or most of the men of the household. It is probably true that Bali Penyalong is never addressed without the slaughter of one or more pigs, and also that no domestic pig is ever slaughtered without being charged beforehand with some message or prayer to Bali Penyalong, which its spirit may carry up to him. But the most important function of the pig is the giving of information as to the future course of events by means of the markings on its liver.[136]
Whenever it becomes specially interesting or important to ascertain the future course of events, when, for example, a household proposes to make war, or when two parties are about to go through a peace-making ceremony, a pig is caught by the young men from among those beneath the house, and is brought and laid, with its feet lashed together, before the chief in the great gallery of the house. And it would seem that the more important the ceremony the larger and the more numerous should be the pigs selected as victims. An attendant hands a burning brand to the chief, and he, stooping over the pig, singes a few of its hairs, and then, addressing the pig as "Bali Bouin," and gently punching it behind the shoulder, as we have already depicted him, he pours out a rapid flood of words. The substance of his address is a prayer to Bali Penyalong for guidance and knowledge as to the future course of the business in hand, and an injunction to the soul of the pig to carry the prayer to Bali Penyalong.
Sometimes more than one chief will address one pig in this way; and then, as soon as these prayers are concluded, some follower plunges a spear into the heart or throat of the pig, and rapidly opens its belly in the middle line, drags out the liver and lays it on a leaf or platter with the underside uppermost, and so carries it to the chief or chiefs. Then all the elderly men crowd round and consult as to the significance of the appearances presented by the underside of the liver. The various lobes and lobules are taken to represent the various districts concerned in the question on which light is desired, and according to the strength and intimacy of the connections between these lobes, the people of the districts represented are held to be bound in more or less lasting friendship. While spots and nodules in any part betoken future evils for the people of that part, a clean healthy liver means good fortune and happiness for all concerned.
The underside of the liver, which alone is significant, varies considerably from one specimen to another, and this must prevent any very definite and consistent identification of the parts with the different districts of the country. The rule generally observed is to identify the under surface of the right lobe (ARTI TOH) with the territory of the party that kills the pig and makes the enquiry; the adjacent part of the left lobe (SUNAN) with the territory of any party involved in the question which adjoins that of the first party; and the under surface of the caudal extremity (ARTI ARKAT) with that of any remoter third party (see Fig. 79). If the ridge that runs up between the right and left lobes is sharp, it indicates that there will still be some bad feeling (or, as they say, the swords are still sharp). A gall-bladder which is long and overlapping indicates more trouble between the parties to the right and left; but one which is sunk almost out of sight in the substance of the liver is a sign that no further trouble is to be expected. The grooves on the under surface of the right lobe stand for the waterways and, if they are strongly marked, imply freedom of intercourse. Notches at the free edges stand for past injuries suffered (the scars of wounds received, as it were); and if these are equally marked in the several parts they indicate peace, because it is implied that no balance of old scores remains to any one of the parties concerned. A sore or abscess in any part foretells the speedy death of one of the chiefs of the people of that part.
FIGURE 79
It is obvious that this system of interpretation, which is common to nearly all the peoples, gives much scope for the operation of prejudice, suggestion, and ingenuity. But the group of interpreting chiefs and elder men generally achieves unanimity in giving its verdict.
The omens thus obtained are held to be the answer vouchsafed by Bali Penyalong to the prayers which have been carried to him by the spirit of the pig.
If the answer obtained in this way from one pig is unsatisfactory, they will often kill a second, and on important occasions even a third or fourth, in order to obtain a favourable answer. Unless they can thus obtain a satisfactory forecast, they will not set out upon any undertaking of importance.
After any ceremony of this kind the body of the pig is usually divided among the people, and by them cooked and eaten without further ceremony. But we have seen that, after the ceremony in preparation for an expedition, the bodies of the young pigs whose blood was scattered on the altarpost of Bali Penyalong were fixed upon tall poles beside this altar-post and there left; and this seems to be the rule in ceremonies of this sort, though it is not clear whether the carcases are left there as offerings to the hawks or to Bali Penyalong, or because they are in some sense too holy to be used as food after being used in such rites.
Probably Kenyahs never give to the spirits in this way the whole body of a large pig, but only of quite small pigs, and in this they are probably influenced by considerations of economy.
It may be said generally that Kenyahs do not kill domestic pigs simply and solely for the sake of food. The killing of a pig is always the occasion for, or occasioned by, some religious rite. It is true that on the arrival of honoured guests a pig is usually killed and given to them for food; but its spirit is then always charged with some message to Bali Penyalong. It is said that, when the pig's spirit comes to Bali Penyalong, he is offended if it brings no message from those who killed the pig, and he sends it back to carry off their souls.
On many other occasions also pigs are killed; thus, on returning from a successful attack on enemies, a pig is usually killed for each family of the household, and a piece of its flesh is put up on a pole before the house; and during the severe illness of any person of high social standing, pigs are usually killed, and friendly chiefs may come from distant parts, bringing with them pigs and fowls that they may sacrifice them, and so aid in restoring the sick man to health. On the death of a chief, too, a great feast is made, and many pigs are slaughtered, and their jaw-bones are hung up on the tomb. A pig is sometimes used in the ceremony by which a newly-made peace is sealed between tribes hitherto at blood-feuds, but a fowl is more commonly used.
The wild pig which abounds in the forest is hunted by the Kenyahs, and when brought to bay by the dogs is killed with spears, and it is eaten without ceremony or compunction by all classes. The wild pig is never used as messenger to the gods, and its liver is not consulted. The lower jaws of all wild pigs that are killed are cleaned and hung up together in the house, and it is believed that if these should be lost or in any way destroyed the dogs would cease to hunt.
The domestic fowls are seldom killed for food, and their eggs too can hardly be reckoned as a regular article of diet, though the people have no prejudice against eating them. And it would seem that the fowls are kept in the main for ceremonial Purposes, and that their table use is of very secondary importance.
Fowls are killed on many of the occasions on which pigs are sacrificed, and, as we have seen in the description of the ceremony at Tama Bulan's house, their blood may be poured upon the altarposts of Bali Penyalong. It would seem that fowls and pigs are to some extent interchangeable equivalents for sacrificial purposes. Perhaps the most important occasion on which the fowl plays a part is the performance of the rite by which a blood-feud is finally wiped away. The following extract from the journal previously quoted describes an incident of this kind: —
In the evening there was serious business on hand. Two chiefs, who some years ago were burned out of their homes in the Rejang district by the government, have settled themselves with their people in the Baram district. They had made a provisional peace with the Kayans some years ago, but the final ceremony was to be performed this evening. The two chiefs of the immigrants, who had remained hitherto in a remote part of the house, seated themselves at one side, and the Kayan chiefs at the other, and Tama Bulan and ourselves between the two parties. First, presents of iron were exchanged. In the old days costly presents of metal-work used to be given; but, as this led sometimes to renewed disputes, the government has forbidden the giving, in such ceremony, of presents of a greater value than two dollars. So now old sword-blades are given, and the other essential part of the present has been proportionately reduced from a full-grown fowl to a tiny chick. After much preliminary talking, two chicks were brought and a bundle of old sword-blades, which Tama Bulan, in his character of peace-maker, carries with him whenever he travels abroad. A chief of either party took a chick and a sword and presented them to the other. Then one led his men a little apart and began to rattle off an invocation beginning, "O sacred (Bali) chick," snipped off its head with the sword, and with the bloody blade smeared the right arm of his followers as they crowded round him. The old fellow kept up the stream of words until every man was smeared; and then they all stamped together on the floor raising a great shout. Then the other party went through a similar performance; and the peace being thus formally ratified, we sat down to cement it still further by a friendly drinking bout.
Another ceremony in which the fowl plays a prominent part is that by which the wandering soul of a sick person is found and led back to his body by the medicine-man. This is described in Chapter XIV.
It seems clear that the fowl, like the pig, is used on these occasions as a messenger sent by man to the Supreme Spirit. In most cases when a fowl is slaughtered in the course of a ceremony, it is first waved over the heads of the people taking part in it, and its blood is afterwards sprinkled upon them.
In the blood-brotherhood ceremony, when each of the two men drinks or smokes in a cigarette a drop of the other's blood drawn with a bambooknife, a fowl is in many cases waved over them and then killed, and occasionally a pig also is killed. In such a case the man who has killed the fowl will carry its carcase to the door of the house, and there he will wave towards the heavens a frayed stick moistened with its blood, while he announces the facts of the ceremony to Bali Penyalong. So that here again the fowl seems to play the part of a messenger. The carcase and the bloody stick are afterwards put up together on a tall pole before the house. After going through this ceremony a man is safe from all the members of the household to which his blood-brother belongs; and in the case of two chiefs all the members of either household are bound to those of the other by a sacred tie.
Fowls' eggs are sometimes put on the cleft poles as sacrifices. In one instance, when we were engaged in fishing a lake with a large party in boats, we came upon a row of eight poles stuck upright at the edge of the lake, each holding a fowl's egg in its cleft upper end. These had just been put there by the crew of one of the canoes as an offering to the crocodiles, which were regarded as the most influential of the powers of the lake and able to ensure us good sport.
In such cases the eggs are probably economical substitutes for fowls, as seems to be indicated by the following facts: When Kenyah boys enter a strange branch of the river for the first time, they go, each one taking a fowl's egg in his hand, into the jungle with some old man, who takes the eggs, puts them into the cleft ends of poles fixed upright in the earth, and thus addresses all the omen-birds collectively, "Don't let any harm happen to these children who are coming for the first time to this river; they give you these eggs." Sometimes instead of eggs the feathers of a fowl are used; and both the eggs and feathers would seem to be substituted for fowls, as being good enough in the case of mere children performing a minor rite.
When the belly of a fowl is opened there are prominent two curved portions of the gut. The state of these is examined in some cases before the planting of PADI, and sometimes before attempting to catch the soul of a sick man. If the parts are much curved, it is a good omen; if straight or but slightly curved, it is a bad omen.
The Crocodile
Like all other races of Sarawak, the Kenyahs regard the crocodiles that infest their rivers as more or less friendly creatures. They fear the crocodile and do not like to mention it by name, especially if one be in sight, and refer to it as "old grandfather." But the fear is rather a superstitious fear than the fear of being seized by the beast. They regard those of their own neighbourhood as more especially friendly, in spite of the fact that members of their households are occasionally taken by crocodiles, either while standing incautiously on the bank of the river or while floating quietly at evening time in a small canoe. When this happens, it is believed either that the person taken has in some way offended or injured one or all of the crocodiles, or that he has been taken by a stranger crocodile that has come from a distant part of the river, and therefore did not share in the friendly understanding usually subsisting between the people and the local crocodiles. But in any case it is considered that the crocodiles have committed an unjustifiable aggression and have set up a blood-feud which can only be abolished by the slaying of one or more of the aggressors. Now it is the habit of the crocodile to hold the body of his victim for several days before devouring it, and to drag it for this purpose into some muddy creek opening into the main river. A party is therefore organised to search all the neighbouring creeks, and the first measure taken is to prevent the guilty crocodile escaping to some other part of the river. To achieve this they take long poles, frayed with many cuts, and set them up on the river-bank at some distance above and below the scene of the crime and at the mouths of all the neighbouring creeks and streamlets; and they kill fowls and pray that the guilty crocodile may be prevented from passing the spots thus marked. They then search the creeks, and if they find the criminal with the body of his victim they kill him, and the feud is at an end. But, if they fail to find him thus, they go out on the part of the river included between their charmed poles, and, with their spears tied to long poles, prod all the bed of this part of the river, and thus generally succeed in killing one or more crocodiles. They then usually search its entrails for the bones and hair of the victim so as to make sure that they have caught the offending beast. But, even if they do not obtain conclusive evidence of this kind, they seem to feel that justice is satisfied, and that the beast killed is probably the guilty one.
Except in the meting out of a just vengeance in this way, no Kenyah will kill a crocodile, and they will not eat its flesh under any circumstances. But there is no evidence to show that they regard themselves as related by blood or descent to the crocodiles or that their ancestors ever did so.
When Kenyahs go on a journey into strange rivers or to the lower part of the main river, they fear the crocodiles of these strange waters, because they are unknown to them, and any one of them might easily be mistaken by the crocodiles for some one who has done them an injury. Some Kenyahs tie the red leaves of the DRACAENA below the prow of their boat whenever they go far from home, believing that this protects them from all danger of attack by crocodiles.
The Dog
In all Kenyah houses are large numbers of dogs, which vary a good deal in size and colour, but roughly resemble large, mongrel-bred, smooth-haired terriers. Each family owns several, and they are fed with rice usually in the evening; but they seem to be always hungry. The best of them are used for hunting; but besides these there is always a number of quite useless, ill-fed, ill-tempered curs; for no Kenyah dare kill a dog, however much he may wish to be rid of it. Still less, of course, will he eat the flesh of a dog. The dogs prowl about, in and around the house, much as they please, but are not treated with any particular respect. When a dog intrudes where he is not wanted it is usual to click with the tongue at him, and this is usually enough to make him pass on; but blows with a stick follow quickly if the animal does not obey. They display little affection for their dogs, and they do not like children to touch or play with the dogs, but of course cannot altogether prevent them.
One young Kenyah chief, on being questioned, said that the reason they will not kill dogs is that they are like children, and eat and sleep together with men in the same house; and he added that, if a man should kill a dog, he would go mad.
If a dog dies in the house, the men push the carcase out of the house and into the river with long poles, and will on no account touch it with their hands. The spot on the floor on which the dog died is fenced round with mats for some few days in order to prevent the children walking over it.
It is usual for the Kenyah men to have one or more designs tatued on their forearms and shoulders. Among the commonest of these designs are those known as the prawn and the dog (see Chap. XII). They seem to be conventionalised derivatives from these animal forms. It is said that the dog's head design was formerly much more in fashion than it is at the present time.
Deer and Cattle
Very few Kenyahs of the upper class will kill or eat deer and wild cattle. They believe that if they should eat their flesh they would vomit violently and spit out blood. They have no domestic cattle, and the buffalo does not occur in their districts. Lower-class Kenyahs and slaves, taken as war-captives from other tribes, may eat deer and horned cattle, but they must take the flesh some little distance from the house when they cook it. A woman who is pregnant, or for any other reason is in the hands of a physician, has to observe the restrictions with regard to deer and cattle more strictly than other people, and she will not touch or allow to be brought near her any article of leather or horn.
The war-coats of the men are often made of the skin of goats or deer, and any man may wear such a war-coat. But when a man has a young son, he is particularly careful to avoid contact with any part of a deer, lest through such contact he should transmit to his son in any degree the timidity of the deer. On one occasion when we had killed a deer, a Kenyah chief resolutely refused to allow its skin to be carried in his boat, alleging the above reason.
The cry or bark of the deer (CERVULUS MUNTJAC) is a warning of danger, and the seeing or hearing of the mouse-deer or PLANDOK (TRAGULAS NAPU) has a like significance.
The Tiger-cat
The only large species of the FELIDAAE that occurs in Borneo is the tiger-cat (FELIS NEBULOSA). Kenyahs will not eat it, as men of some tribes do, but will kill it; and they fashion its handsome spotted skin into war-coats. Such coats are worn only by men who have been on the war-path. The canine teeth of the tiger-cat are much prized as ornaments; they are worn thrust through holes in the upper part of the shell of the ear, but only by full-grown men. KULEH, the name of this beast, is sometimes given to a boy.