AERIAL HOUSES — THE LONG HOUSE AND ITS ARRANGEMENTS — THE ORANG-KAYA’S ROOM — STRUCTURE OF THE FLOORING — REASONS FOR THE DYAK ARCHITECTURE — THE NIPA PALM AND ITS USES — THE ATAPS — SALT AND SUGAR MANUFACTURE — ERECTION OF THE FIRST POST — VARIOUS MODES OF PROCURING FIRE — CONSTRUCTION OF THE DYAK BRIDGE — A NARROW ESCAPE — MANUFACTURES — THE ADZE AXE OF THE DYAKS — ITS ANALOGY WITH THE BANYAI AXE — SMELTING AND FORGING IRON — BASKET MAKING — THE DYAK MAT — SPLITTING THE RATTAN — THE BORNEAN KNIFE, AND MODE OF USING IT — THE SACRED JARS AND THEIR PROPERTIES.

The architecture of the Dyaks is very peculiar. The reader may find a Dyak village represented on page 1153.

In the first place, the houses are all built on posts, some of them twenty feet in height, and the mode of access to them is by climbing up a notched pole, which answers the purpose of a ladder. The chief dwelling in every village, and indeed practically the village itself, is the long house, which is of wonderfully large dimensions. One of these houses, measured by Mr. St. John, was more than five hundred and thirty feet long, and was inhabited by nearly five hundred people.

Throughout the entire length of the house runs the broad veranda or common room, which is open to all the members, and at the side are rooms partitioned off for the different families, as many as sixty or seventy such rooms being sometimes seen in one long house. Although the veranda is common ground to all the tribe, and in it the members go through their various sedentary occupations, each family occupies by tacit consent the portion of the veranda opposite their own rooms.

These rooms are strictly private, and none except the members of the family, or their intimate friends, would think of entering them. The chief or Orang-kaya of the long house has a much larger room than the others, and the space in front of his room is considered to be devoted to the use of the lesser chiefs and councillors, and, although free to all the inhabitants, is frequented almost entirely by the old men and warriors of known courage.

One of the rooms inhabited by the Orang-kaya was visited by Mr. Boyle, and was not an attractive apartment. On each side of the entrance there was a piece of furniture somewhat resembling an old English plate-rack, upon the lower shelf of which was placed a flat stone. In spite of the heat, which was terrific, a large fire was burning on the stone, and on the range above were wood, rice, pots, and other utensils. There was no chimney to the house, but a sort of flap in the roof was lifted up, and kept open by a notched stick. This flap answered both for window and chimney, and when it was closed the room was in total darkness, beside being at once filled with smoke.

The height of the chamber was barely seven feet, and the space was rendered still more limited by the weapons, girdles, mats, mosquito curtains, strings of boars’ tusks, aprons, and other property, that hung from the rafters. The sides were adorned with a quantity of English and Dutch crockery, each piece being in a separate rattan basket and suspended from the wall. The house being an old one, the smell was abominable; and the Orang-kaya’s chamber was, on the whole, a singularly uncomfortable residence.

A number of fire-places, varying according to the population of the house, are arranged along the veranda, and, as a general rule, one of the primitive ladders already mentioned is placed at either end, so that when a visitor enters the house, he sees throughout its entire length, the range of his eye being only interrupted by the posts, which after supporting the floor pass upward and serve also to support the roof. Outside this veranda extends another, called the outer veranda. It has no roof, and is exposed to the blazing sunbeams. It is used, not as a habitation, but as a kind of storehouse and drying ground.

As the flooring is made of bamboo, the Dyaks can easily, if they choose, keep the interior of their rooms clean. This, however, they seldom choose to do, limiting their cleanliness to the simple process of sweeping any offal through the floor so as to fall under the house. They never think of removing it after it has fallen, so that by degrees the heaps of refuse become higher and higher, and gradually diminish the distance between the floor of the house and the soil beneath. In some of the older houses, these heaps of rubbish have increased to such an extent that when the pigs are grubbing in them their backs touch the bamboo flooring of the house.

The reason for building the Dyak houses on piles are several, the chief being that such a house acts as a fort in case of attack. The custom of building on piles is universal, but only those tribes that are liable to invasion employ piles of the height which have been mentioned. This mode of architecture also protects the inhabitants from floods and from the intrusion of reptiles. The Dyaks do not use the bow and arrow, and before they learned the use of fire-arms, a house built on piles some twenty or thirty feet in height made a very secure fort, which could not be fired, and which exposed the storming party to certain and heavy loss. Even since the English have taken up their residence in Borneo, some of these houses, belonging to revolted chiefs, have given great trouble before they could be taken, artillery appearing to be the only weapon to which they at once succumb.

The piles are made of the hardest iron-wood, and are very thick, much thicker than is needed for the support of the house. The reason for this strength and thickness is, that in case of attack, the assailing party dash under the house, protecting themselves from missiles by a canoe which they turn keel upward, and hold over their heads while they chop at the posts, so as to bring the house and its defenders down together. If the posts are but moderately stout, they will sometimes succeed; but if they are very thick and strong, the defenders can remove part of the floor, and throw on the attacking party weights sufficiently heavy to break through their roof and kill them.

It is probable that the custom of building houses on piles is partly derived from the Malay fashion of erecting buildings over the water. The Dyaks copied this plan, and became so used to it that when they built inland they still continued the practice. The same theory accounts for the habit already mentioned of throwing all kinds of offal through the open bamboo flooring. This custom was cleanly enough when the houses were built over the water, but became a source of utter pollution when they were erected on land, and the offal was allowed to accumulate below, undisturbed except by the dogs and pigs.

Most of these houses are built rather high up the rivers, especially upon the tributary streams; and booms, composed of bamboos and rattans, are fastened across the stream below them, so as to hinder the advance of the enemy’s canoes. The thatch, as well as a considerable portion of the material, is obtained from the nipa palm, a tree which to the Borneans is almost a necessity of existence, and supplies a vast number of their wants. It grows in large numbers at the water’s edge; its huge leaves, fifteen or twenty feet in length, projecting like the fronds of vast ferns.

When dried, the leaves are woven into a sort of matted fabric called “ataps,” which is used sometimes as thatch, sometimes as the indispensable covering of boats, and sometimes even as walls of houses, the mats being fastened from post to post. By the use of these ataps certain portions of the roof can be raised on sticks in trap-door fashion, so as to answer the double purpose of admitting light and securing ventilation.

Various other mats are made of the nipa palm leaf, and so are hats and similar articles. The entire leaf is often used in canoes as an extemporized sail, the leaf being fastened upright, and driving the boat onward at a very fair pace. Besides these uses the nipa leaves, when young, are dressed as vegetables, and are both agreeable and nutritious, and the fine inner leaves, when dried, are rolled round tobacco so as to form cigars.

From the root and stem a coarse sugar is made, which is used for all general purposes; for, although the sugar-cane grows magnificently in Borneo, the natives only consider it in the light of a sweetmeat. It seems rather strange that sugar and salt should be extracted from the same plant, but such is really the case, and salt-making is one of the principal occupations of some of the tribes.

They gather great quantities of the nipa root, and burn them. The ashes are then swept together, and thrown into shallow pans half filled with water, so that the salt is dissolved and remains in the water, while the charcoal and woody particles float at the surface, and can be skimmed off. When the water is clear, the pans are placed over the fire and the water driven off by evaporation, after which the salt, which remains on the bottom and sides of the pans, is scraped off. It is of a coarse and decidedly bitter character, but it is much liked by the natives, and even the European settlers soon become accustomed to it. Salt is imported largely from Siam, but the Borneans prefer that of their own manufacture for home use, reserving the Siamese salt for preserving fish.

The nipa and the mangrove grow in similar localities and on the same streams, and are useful to those who are engaged in ascending rivers, as they know that the water is always shallow where the mangrove grows, and deep near the nipa.

In the olden times, when a long house was projected, the erection of the first post was always accompanied by a human sacrifice, precisely as has been mentioned of several other parts of the world. Mr. St. John saw one of these houses where a human sacrifice had been made. A deep hole was dug in the ground, and the huge post, which, as the reader may remember, is cut from the trunk of the hardest and heaviest wood which can be found, was suspended over it by rattan lashings. A girl was laid at the bottom of the hole, and at a given signal the lashings were cut, permitting the post to drop into the hole, and crush the girl to atoms.

The same traveller saw a ceremony among the Quop Dyaks, which showed that the principle of sacrifice still remained, though the victim was of a different character. The builder wanted to raise a flag-staff near his house, and proceeded on exactly the same plan. The excavation was made, the pole was suspended by a rattan, but, instead of a human being, a fowl was bound and laid at the bottom of the hole, so as to be crushed to death when the lashings were cut.

These houses are often approached by bridges, which are very curious structures, so apparently fragile that they seem unable to sustain the weight of a human being, and of so slight a character that to traverse them seems to imply the skill of a rope dancer. As these houses are often built on the side of a steep hill, a pole is laid from the platform to the hill, and, if it be a tolerably long one, supported by several rattan ropes fastened to trees. A very slight bamboo handrail is fastened a little above it, and the bridge is considered as complete.

One of these simple bridges is shown in illustration No. 2, on the 1153d page, which gives a good idea of the height of the house and its general style of architecture. Near the foreground is a man engaged in making fire by means of twirling one stick upon another, precisely as is done by the Kaffirs and other savage tribes. There is, however, one improvement on the usual mode. Instead of merely causing a pointed stick to revolve upon another, the Dyaks use instead of the lower stick a thick slab of very dry wood, with a deep groove cut on one side of it, and a small hole on the other, bored down to the groove.

When the Dyak wishes to procure fire, he places the wooden slab on the ground with the groove undermost, and inserts his pointed stick in the little hole and twirls it rapidly between his hands. The revolution of the stick soon causes a current of air to pass through the groove, and in consequence the fire is rapidly blown up as soon as the wood is heated to the proper extent. In consequence of this arrangement, much labor is saved, as the firemaker is not obliged to stop at intervals to blow upon the just kindled dust which collects in the little hole around the firestick. Some tribes merely cut two cross grooves on the lower piece of wood, and insert the point of the firestick at their intersection.

The Saribas and Sakarrang Dyaks have a very remarkable instrument for obtaining fire, called by them “besi-api.” It consists of a metal tube, about three inches in length, with a piston working nearly air-tight in it. A piece of dry stuff by way of tinder is introduced into the tube, the piston rod is slapped smartly down and withdrawn with a jerk, when the tinder is seen to be on fire. Europeans find that to manage the besi-api is as difficult a task as to procure fire by two sticks. The reader may remember that a machine of similar construction is sold at the philosophical instrument makers, and that a piece of German tinder is lighted by the sudden compression of the air.

Another form of the besi-api is thus described by Mr. Boyle:—“Among some of the Dyak tribes there is a manner of striking fire much more extraordinary. The instrument used is a slender cube of lead, which fits tightly in a case of bamboo. The top of the cube is hollowed into a cup, and when fire is required this cup is filled with tinder, the leaden piston is held upright in the left hand, the bamboo case is thrust sharply down over it, as quickly withdrawn, and the tinder is found to be lighted. The natives say that no metal but lead will produce the effect.”

The same traveller gives an account of another mode of obtaining fire:—“Another interesting phenomenon these natives showed us, which, though no doubt easily explained on scientific principles, appeared very remarkable. As we sat in the veranda my cheroot went out, and I asked one of the Dyaks squatted at our side to give me a light.

“He took from his box of bamboo a piece of pitcher and a little tinder; put the latter upon the pitcher and held it under his thumb, struck sharply against the bamboo, and instantly offered me the tinder lighted. Several times subsequently we watched them obtain fire by this means, but failed to make out a reasonable theory for the result.”

Even rivers are bridged over in the same simple, but really efficacious manner, as the approaches to the houses. The mountain streams alternate greatly in depth and rapidity, and it is no uncommon occurrence for a heavy rain to raise a river some forty feet in its deep and rocky channel, and even after a single heavy shower the fords are rendered impassable. In consequence of this uncertainty, the Dyaks throw across the chasms such bridges as are described by Mr. St. John:—

“How light and elegant do these suspension-bridges look! One, in particular, I will attempt to describe. It was a broad part of the stream, and two fine old trees hung over the water opposite to each other. Long bamboos lashed together formed the main portion, and were fastened by smaller ones to the branches above; railings on either side were added to give greater strength and security, yet the whole affair appeared so flimsy, and was so far above the stream, that when we saw a woman and child pass over it we drew our breath until they were safe on the other side. And yet we knew that they were secure.

“I have often passed over them myself; they are of the width of one bamboo, but the side railings give one confidence. Accidents do happen from carelessly allowing the rattan lashings to rot. Once, when pressed for time, I was passing rapidly across with many men following close behind me, when it began to sway most unpleasantly, and crack! crack! was heard as several of the supports gave way. Most of my men were fortunately not near the centre, and relieved the bridge of their weight by clinging to the branches, otherwise those who were with me in the middle would have been precipitated on the rocks below. After that, we always passed singly over such neglected bridges.”

The domestic manufactures of the Dyaks are of a very high order, and display a wonderful amount of artistic taste. The mode of building canoes has already been mentioned, but the principal tool of the canoe maker is too curious to be passed over. The implement in question is singularly ingenious, combining within itself a number of qualifications. The general appearance of it can be seen by reference to the illustration, which is drawn from a specimen presented to me by C. T. C. Grant, Esq.

It is apparently a most insignificant tool, hardly worthy the hands of a child; and yet, when wielded by a Dyak, it produces the most remarkable results. The handle is only ten inches in length, and the blade measures barely an inch and a quarter across the widest part. The handle is made of two portions, united with a strong lashing of rattan, backed up by cement, The lower portion, which is curved exactly like the hilts of the Dyak swords, is made of a soft and light wood, while the upper part, which carries the head, is made of a hard, strong, and moderately elastic wood.

The head is made of iron, mostly imported, and is in all probability formed on the model of a stone implement that was formerly in use. As the reader may see, it is fastened to the wood by rattan, exactly as the stone heads of the Polynesian axes are held in their places by lashings of plaited sinnet.

But here the resemblance ends. The head of the Polynesian axe is immovable, whereas the essence of the Bornean axe is that the head can be shifted at will, by taking it out of the rattan lashing, reversing and replacing it, so that it forms an axe or an adze, as the user desires. The reader may remember that the Banyai tribe of Southern Africa have an axe made on a similar principle, though in their case the reversal is accomplished by cutting holes at right angles to each other, through which the shank of the iron head can be passed. (See p. 364, figs. 4, 5.)

With this tiny instrument the Dyaks not only shape their planks, but cut down the largest trees with a rapidity that an English workman could scarcely equal, in spite of the superiority of his axe. They have a very curious method of clearing away timber from a space of ground. They first cut away all the underwood with their parangs, or choppers, and then, with their little axes, cut the larger trees rather more than half through, leaving the largest to the last. This tree is then felled, and, as all the trees are bound together with rattans and other creepers, it brings down all the others in its fall.

Although the iron which the Dyaks use is mostly imported, they are capable of smelting their own metal by a very simple process. By way of a crucible, they dig a small pit in the ground, and perforate the sides with holes, through which currents of air can be passed by means of the native bellows. Charcoal is first placed in the pit, and then the ore, well broken, is laid on the charcoal; and so the Dyak workmen proceed to fill the pit with alternate layers of charcoal and ore. A light is then introduced by means of a hole, the bellows are worked, and in a short time the metal is smelted. Although each man is generally capable of making his own tools on a pinch, there is generally a man in each village who is a professional blacksmith, and makes his living by forging spear heads and parang blades, as well as by keeping the weapons of the villagers in repair.

The basket work of the Dyaks is exceedingly good, color as well as form being studied in the manufacture. The basket called tambok is made of the nipa palm leaf, cut into strips not quite the twelfth of an inch wide, and stained alternately yellow and red. These are interwoven so as to produce a considerable variety of pattern, somewhat resembling that which is used in the sarongs and other woven fabrics. These patterns are nearly all combinations of the square, the zigzag, and the diamond; the last form, however, being nothing more than the square turned diagonally.

Although made in cylindrical form, the tambok is slightly squared by means of four strips of hard red wood, which are tightly fastened to the basket by rattan lashing. The bottom of the basket is squared in a similar manner, so as to flatten it and enable it to stand upright, and is defended by thicker strips of wood than those which run up the sides. The lid is guarded by two cross-strips of wood, and both the lid and the top of the basket are strengthened by two similar strips bound firmly round their edges. This basket is exceedingly light, elastic, strong, easily carried, and fully warrants the estimation in which it is held. Tamboks are made of almost all sizes, and are extensively used by the Dyaks, the Malays, and the European colonists.

Mats of various kinds are made by this ingenious people. One of these mats, which is in my possession, is a wonderful specimen of Dyak work. It is nine feet long and five wide, and is made of rattan, cut into very narrow strips—not wider, indeed, than those of the enlarged patterns of the tambok basket. These strips are interwoven with such skill as to form an intricate and artistic pattern. The centre of the mat is occupied by a number of spiral patterns, two inches in diameter, the spiral being produced by extensions of the zigzag already mentioned.

Around the spirals are three distinct borders, each with a definite pattern, and the whole is edged by a sort of selvage, which gives strength to the fabric, and prevents it from being torn. This kind of mat is exceedingly durable, the specimen in question having been long used in Borneo, then brought over to England, and employed as a floor-cloth; and, although cut in one or two places by chair-legs, is on the whole as firm as when it was made. As the rattan has not been dyed, the color of the mat is a pale yellow; but the pattern comes out with wonderful distinctness, just as is the case with good English table linen.

Like all uncivilized people, the Dyaks never hurry themselves about their manufactures. Time is no object to them; there is none of the competition which hurries European workmen through life. The women, who make these beautiful mats, go about their work in a very leisurely way, interweaving the slender rattan strips with infinite care, and certainly producing work that is thorough and sound.

The rattan is split in rather a curious manner. On account of the direction and length of its fibre, it will split almost ad infinitum into perfectly straight strips of very great length, so that the only difficulty is to cut the slips of precisely the same width. The knives with which this task is performed are rather peculiar. One of them has already been described on page 1125, as an appendage to the Bornean sword; but there is another which is so remarkable that it deserves a separate description.

The handle is bent at an angle like that of the parang-latok, described and figured on the page to which reference was just made. In order to produce this effect, the handle is made of two pieces of wood, the ends of which are bevelled off, so that when they are placed together they produce the angular form which is desired. The two pieces are fitted very neatly together, and the joint is strengthened by a thick coating of cement. The handle is further ornamented by having a long piece of brass wire coiled tightly round it, and is finished off at the end with the same kind of cement as that which is used at the joint.

Not only does the handle resemble that of the parang, but there is a great resemblance between the blades of the sword and the knife. The blade of this knife has been forged out of a square bar of steel, which has been first flattened, and then beaten out into the slightly curved form which is so largely used throughout the whole of this part of the world.

As is the case with the sword knife already described, this implement is used by putting the handle under the left arm and holding the blade firmly in front of the body, while both hands are at liberty to press the end of the rattan against the edge of the knife, and so to split it into as many strips as are needed. In spite of the comparative roughness of the manufacture, which dispenses with a finish and polish, the knife can take a very fine edge; and my own specimen, after having suffered rather rough usage, is so sharp that I have just mended a pen with it, and cut a piece of note paper edgewise. The blade of this knife is eleven inches in length.

In order to preserve the sharpness of the edge, the Dyak carries the knife in a sheath made simply of a small joint of bamboo, closed at the lower end of the natural knot, and carefully wrapped at each end with rattan to prevent it from splitting.

The cotton fabrics are entirely made by the women, from the preparation of the thread to the weaving of the stuff. They beat out the cotton with small sticks, and, by means of a rude sort of wheel, spin it out into thread very rapidly. They cannot compete with the English manufacturer in fineness of thread, but in durability there is no comparison between the two, the Dyak thread being stronger than that made in England, and the dye with which it is stained being so permanent that no fabric wears so well as that which is of native manufacture.

Although we can hardly rank the Dyak jars among native manufactures, they play so important a part in the domestic life of these tribes that they cannot be passed over without some notice.

The Dyaks have no real currency, and can scarcely be made to understand it. They perfectly comprehend direct barter, but the secondary barter by means of a circulating medium is, as a rule, beyond an ordinary Dyak. He will take some goods to the market for the purpose of exchanging them for some article which he wants; but he has no idea of selling his goods for money, and buying with that money the needed article.

The reader may remember that brass guns have already been mentioned as a sort of currency. These are nothing more or less than cannon of various sizes, which are valued by weight, and form a sort of standard by which prices are measured, like the English pound or the French franc. They are bored to carry balls from one to two pounds weight, and, though regarded chiefly in the light of money, are serviceable weapons, and can throw a ball to a considerable distance. There is an advantage about this kind of currency. It is not easily stolen, and outside the chiefs’ houses may be seen rows of brass guns lying on the ground unmounted and owing their safety to their weight.

There is also a second standard of value among the Dyaks. This is the Jar, an institution which, I believe, is unique. These jars are of earthenware, and as far as can be judged by appearance, must have been of Chinese manufacture. They are of different descriptions, and vary greatly in value. The commonest jars, called Naga or Dragon jars, are worth about seven or eight pounds, and derive their name from figures of dragons rudely scrawled on them. They are about two feet in height. The Rusa jar, which is next higher in value, is worth from ten to fifteen pounds, according to its quality, and is known by the figures of the Rusa deer which are drawn upon it.

But the most costly is the Gusi, which is worth almost any sum that the owner chooses to demand for it. The Gusi jar is neither large nor pretty. It is of a dark olive green color, and about two feet in height. These jars are very scarce, and are considered as being worth on an average about five hundred pounds. Seven or eight hundred pounds have been paid for a Gusi jar, and there have been one or two so valuable that many thousands pounds have been offered and refused for them.

Mr. St. John mentions a jar of this kind belonging to the Sultan of Brunei, which derived its chief value from the fact that it spoke on certain great occasions. For example, the Sultan declared that on the night before his wife died the jar uttered hollow moaning sounds, and that it never failed to apprize him of any coming misfortune by wailing pitifully. This jar is kept in the women’s apartments, and is always covered with gold brocade, except when wanted for consultation, or to exhibit its medicinal properties. Water poured into a Gusi jar is thought by the Dyaks and by the Malays to be the best possible medicine for all kinds of diseases, and, when sprinkled over the fields, to be a certain means of procuring a good crop. As the people are willing to pay highly for this medicated water, there is some reason for the enormous cost of these jars.

One of them is said to possess a quality which belongs to itself. It increased everything that was put into it. If, for example, it were half filled with rice in the evening it would be nearly full in the morning; and if water was poured into it, a few hours would increase the depth of water by several inches. It is remarkable that the art of making these jars is lost. The Chinese, admirable imitators as they are, have always failed when they have endeavored to palm off upon a Dyak a jar manufactured by themselves.