THE LUNDUS.
The beginning of the year 1851 brought us much sorrow. After my illness
in November, 1850, we were persuaded by Sir James Brooke to accompany
him to Penang Hill, where the Government bungalow had been placed at his
disposal; consequently, after Christmas, we sailed in H.M.S. _Amazon_,
through the kindness of Captain Troubridge, for Singapore, taking our
child Harry with us. We had to wait some weeks at Singapore for the
Rajah, and soon after our arrival our little boy died of diptheria,
leaving us childless, for we had already lost two infants at Sarawak.
This grief threw a veil of sadness over the remaining years of our first
sojourn in the East. Perhaps it urged us to a deeper interest in the
native people than we might have felt had there been any little ones of
our own to care for; but those six years "the flowers all died along our
way," one infant after another being laid in God's acre.
We stayed six weeks amid the lovely scenery and in the cooler air of
Penang Hill, and returned to Sarawak in May, Admiral Austin giving us a
passage in H.M.S. _Fury_. The admiral gave me his cabin to sleep in, all
the gentlemen sleeping in the cuddy. I woke in the night, hearing a
rushing sound in the air, then, patter, patter, all over the bed. I
jumped up, and called Frank to bring a light and see what was the
matter. "Oh," said a voice from the cuddy, "better not: it is only
cockroaches, and if you saw them you would not go to sleep again." This
swarm of cockroaches came out several times before daylight. The next
night I put up a mosquito-net to protect my face and hands from these
disgusting creatures. When a steamer has been nearly three years in
these hot latitudes it becomes horribly full of rats and cockroaches. My
husband, taking a trip in H.M.S. _Contest_, in 1858, woke one morning
unable to open one eye. Presently he felt a sharp prick, and found a
large cockroach sitting on his eyelid and biting the corner of his eye.
They also bite all round the nails of your fingers and toes, unless they
are closely covered. It must be said that insects are a great discomfort
at Sarawak. Mosquitoes, and sand-flies, and stinging flies which turn
your hands into the likeness of boxing-gloves, infest the banks of the
rivers, and the sea-shore. Flying bugs sometimes scent the air
unpleasantly, and there are hornets in the woods whose sting is
dangerous. When we look back upon the happy days we spent in that
lovely country, these drawbacks are forgotten; the past is always
beautiful, and shadows, even of sorrow and sickness, only enhance the
interest of the picture. Sin alone, in ourselves and those about us, can
make the past hateful, and the great charm of the future is that it is
untouched by sin. Happy, then, are those who are able to look back on
the past with smiles of thankfulness, while they stretch out their arms
hopefully to the future.
Sarawak looked very peaceful on our return; and now began the interest
of the Dyak missions. From our first arrival at Kuching my husband had
taken every opportunity of visiting the Dyak tribes, and sometimes a
chief would come to the town with a number of his people, to pay their
rice tax, or purchase clothes, tobacco, gongs, gunpowder, whatever the
bazaar possessed which they valued. They brought with them beeswax,
damar, honey, or rattans to exchange for those things. On these
occasions the whole party came up to the mission-house to hear the
harmonium, see the magic-lantern, and beg presents. At first they would
ask for arrack, but finding nothing but claret to be had with us, soon
left off that request. Plates and cups were always valued, and they used
to say we had _so many_ more than we could possibly want in the pantry,
that of course we would give them some. To their honour be it said, they
never stole one, and were invariably refused, for we had not any more
than we wanted. The Dyaks hung their plates in loops of rattan very
ingeniously against the walls of their houses; but a plantain-leaf
folded up is more often used by them in lieu of plates, and they could
not have a better substitute. I never enjoyed a meal so much as some
cold rice and sardines eaten off a plantain-leaf in the jungle at Lundu,
after a long walk to the waterfall. The servant with the provision
basket had lost his way, and as we sat hungry under the great trees at
the foot of the fall, a Dyak friend produced a box of sardines and a
parcel of cold rice, and divided it amongst us. When at last the basket
of cold chickens arrived we handed them over to the Dyaks, feeling quite
superior to such civilized food.
The Lundu Dyak chief was a great friend and admirer of Sir James Brooke
from his first arrival in the country. He and his tribe were the
determined enemies of the pirates, and with the Balows of the Batang
Lupar braved the Sarebas and Sakarrans, even when they were most
powerful. At the pirate fight of 1849 the Lundu chief lost two of his
sons: they were killed by an ambush set by Lingi the Sarebas chief. Only
one son, Callon, remained, and he was not his father's favourite. Poor
old Orang Kaya! it was a terrible trial, and nearly brought him to his
grave. Some time afterwards, he and Callon were at Sarawak to pay their
tax. Lingi, who had then submitted to the Rajah, had been in Sarawak for
some days, professedly to trade, but really to see if he could not take
Sir James Brooke's head. This was prevented by the watchfulness of the
Malays, who, suspecting Lingi, never let him get near the Rajah when
they sat talking after dinner, as was the custom in those days. So Lingi
went away foiled, and the day they dropped down the river the Lundus
heard of it. Revenge seemed ready at hand: they had a fast boat, were a
large party, and brave to a man. They entreated the Rajah to let them
follow Lingi and take his head--never again would they take a head, only
Lingi's, the Rajah's enemy and their own. Of course they were refused,
and it must have been a terrible strain on their affection and fealty to
the Rajah, not in this instance to follow the traditions of their
ancestors, and gratify their personal revenge by killing a traitor. But
they obeyed, and Lingi got safely back to Sarebas, little knowing how
narrowly he escaped. The old Lundu chief was a Christian before he died.
He always professed a desire to be of the same religion and brother to
the white man, but when, after due instruction, his son and grandson
came to Kuching to be baptized, he was not well enough to accompany
them, Mr. Gomes promised to baptize him on their return; but when that
event took place Orang Kaya was dead, gone where, no doubt, the will was
taken for the deed, as he was a Christian at heart. Mr. Gomes was from
Bishop's College, Calcutta. Soon after he came to us, in 1852, he went
to Lundu and remained there until 1867, when his children requiring more
education than he could give them at a Dyak station, he went to
Singapore, and accepted the post of missionary priest there.
Mr. Grant was Government resident at Lundu, and the ruler and missionary
devoted themselves to the improvement of the people. In 1855, when we
returned to our home after our first visit to England, we received a
delightful visit from Mr. Gomes and twelve Dyaks, whom he brought to be
baptized at St. Thomas's Church. Callon's son Langi, and half a dozen
other boys, lived with Mr. Gomes, and ran after him all day--nice little
fellows, who fraternized with our boys at the school-house. There were
also five men, the chief of whom was Bulan (Moon), one of the manangs,
or witch-doctors, of the tribe. These manangs, being as it were the
priests of Dyak superstitions, and getting their living by pretended
cures, interpretations of omens and the voices of birds, were of course
the natural enemies of truth and enlightenment. Bulan, however, had
tried to be an honest manang, and finding it impossible had turned with
all his heart to Christianity. His brother Bugai, also a Christian, was
a very intelligent person, and became catechist at Lundu.
There was also a very rich old man, Simoulin by name, who was baptized
at this time. His wife had opposed his conversion with all her might;
indeed, she declared she would leave him and carry half the property
with her. Simoulin said quietly, "If she will she must: she is only a
woman, and her judgment in the matter is not likely to be good."
Christianity had strong opponents in the women of all the Dyak tribes.
They held important parts in all the feasts, incantations, and
superstitions, which could not be called religion, but were based on the
dread of evil spirits and a desire to propitiate them. The women
encouraged head-taking by preferring to marry the man who had some of
those ghastly tokens of his prowess. When Sir James Brooke forbad
head-taking among the tribes in his dominions, it was the women who
would row their lovers out of the rivers in their boats, and set them
down on the sea-coast to find the head of a stranger. When heads were
brought in, it was the women who took possession of them, decked them
with flowers, put food into their mouths, sang to them, mocked them, and
instituted feasts in honour of the slayers. The young Dyak woman works
hard; she helps in all the labours of sowing, planting out, weeding, and
reaping the paddy. She beats out the rice in a wooden trough, with a
long pole, or pestle. She grows the cotton for clothing, dyes and weaves
it. She carries heavy burdens, and paddles her boat on the river. All
these are her duties, and in performing them she quickly loses her
smooth skin, bright eyes, and slender figure. It is only the young girls
who can boast of any beauty, but the old women are very important
personages at a seed-time or harvest festival. They dress themselves in
long garments embroidered with tiny white shells, representing lizards
and crocodiles. With long wands in their hands, they dance, singing wild
incantations. They have already prepared the food for the
feast--chickens roasted in their feathers; cakes of rice, spun like
vermicelli and fried in cocoa-nut oil; curries, and salads of bitter and
acid leaves; sticks of small bamboo filled with pulut rice and boiled,
when it turns to a jelly and is agreeably flavoured with the young
bamboo. It is the women also who serve out the tuak, a spirit prepared
from rice and spiced with various ingredients, tobacco being one. The
men must drink at these feasts; they are very temperate generally, but
on this occasion they are rather proud of being drunk and boasting the
next day of a bad headache! The women urge them to drink, but do not
join in the orgies, and disappear when the intoxicating stage begins. I
trust that this description belongs only to the past; at any rate, we
know that in those places where the missionaries have long taught, their
people follow a more excellent way of rejoicing in the joy of harvest,
and, after their thanksgiving service in church, pour out their
offerings of rice before the altar to maintain the services, and
minister to the sick and needy.
[Illustration: A DYAK GIRL.
_Page_ 74.]
For many years, however, the women were opposed to a religion which
cleared away the superstitious customs which were the delight of their
lives, their chief amusement and dissipation, and a means of influencing
the men. It was not until the year 1864 that Mr. Gomes asked us to visit
Lundu and welcome a little party of women, the first converts to the
faith which their fathers and husbands had long professed. This is a
long digression from the history of the Lundus' visit to Kuching in
1855, which was at the time a great event. I find the following passage
in my journal: "Every evening, before late dinner, the Lundus go up to
Mr. Gomes's room to say their prayers, and sing, or rather chant, their
hymns. There is something very affecting in this little service--the
Dyak voices singing of Christ's second coming with His holy angels, and
rejoicing that He came once before for their salvation; then praying for
holy, gentle hearts to receive Him. I always feel on these occasions as
if I heard these precious truths afresh when they are spoken in a tongue
till lately ignorant of them. Indeed, there can scarcely be a more
joyful excitement than such passages in the life of a missionary; they
are worth any sacrifice. After English morning service, Mr. Gomes has
prayers in church for his Dyaks. He then instructs them in the baptismal
service. This makes five daily services in church, two English, two
Chinese, and one Dyak. We clothed all the candidates in a new suit of
cotton garments with a bright-coloured handkerchief for their heads. It
would be considered very irreverent for Easterns to uncover their heads
in church. I taught the school-children to sing 'Veni, Creator Spiritus'
at this baptism, while the clergy were arranging the candidates and
sponsors round the font. The font was wreathed with flowers by my
children. There was quite a full church, for the Chinese Christians all
came to see the Dyaks baptized, and all the English of the place were
present. Mr. Gomes baptized, and my husband signed them with the cross.
They all spoke up bravely in answering to their vows: may God give them
grace to keep them."
This baptism took place on Whit Sunday. On Thursday of that week, Mr.
Gomes, his Dyaks, and Frank, went off to Linga for a week to visit Mr.
Chambers, and Mr. Horsburgh at Banting, that the converts of both tribes
might become friends. The Balows and Lundus had always been united in
their efforts against the pirate tribes, and in their fealty to the
Rajah's Government. On this account they had a right to the services of
the first missionaries who came from England to teach Dyaks. The visit
to Banting had another object besides the mutual friendship of the
converts. A controversy had arisen in the mission about the right word
to be used in translations for _Jesus_. Isa is the name the Malays use,
and the Dutch translations of the Bible employ this name; but there
happened to be a bad Malay man owning the name of Isa, well known to the
Balows, and Mr. Chambers feared some confusion would arise in the minds
of converts in applying the same name to our Lord. It was therefore
necessary to have a meeting of the clergy to decide this and many other
religious terms to be used in hymns, catechisms, and in general
teaching, that there might be unity in the mission: it would not do to
have any divisions in the camp on such a subject. There are fifty miles
of sea to cross from the Sarawak River to the Batang Lupar, then a long
pull from the fort at Linga up to Banting. The journey took three nights
and two days.
The mission-house at Banting is most romantically placed on the crest of
a hill overhanging the river about three hundred feet, and stands in a
grove of beautiful fruit-trees. The view from it is enchanting. The
river branches at the foot of the hill, and each branch seems to vie
with the other in the tortuousness of its course through the bright
green paddy-fields. About a mile off rises Mount Lesong[3] with a
graceful slope, about three thousand feet, and then terminates abruptly
in a rugged top. The four clergymen who met at Banting looked almost as
wild as their people--wide shady hats, long staffs, long beards, not a
shirt among the party, and but one pair of shoes, belonging to my
husband, who never could walk barefooted. They spent several days
together, and had much consultation about religious terms. The most
intelligent of the Dyak Christians were present, as it was necessary,
not only to choose words they could understand, but such as they could
easily pronounce. On Trinity Sunday there were several services in the
large room of the house, for the church was not yet built. The Lingas
sang their hymns with great energy to one of their own wild strains, but
when they heard the Lundus' melodious chant they were ashamed to sing
after them, and begged them to teach them. The Dyaks love music and
verse. Mr. Gomes and Mr. Chambers wrote them hymns, and the Creed in
verse, which they readily commit to memory and understand better than
prose. Pictures are also used in their instruction: a parable or miracle
is read, then a picture of it produced and explained, the Dyaks
repeating each sentence after the teacher, to keep their attention.
[Footnote 3: _Lesong_, mortar, being mortar-shaped.]
The baptized alone join in the Litany and Holy Communion. The afternoon
was spent in visiting the sick and giving medicine. Several women came
to the house for instruction, and seemed to take great interest in Mr.
Chambers, teaching; but it was not until Mr. Chambers was married that
any women were baptized. At breakfast the next morning came an old
chief, called Tongkat Langit--the Staff of Heaven. His son Lingire was
one of the most pleasing converts, and Tongkat was wavering--had not
leisure at present! The necessity of forswearing the practise of
head-taking deters the old men from becoming Christians: they fear to
lose influence with their tribe. The little party then fixed upon the
spot where the church should be built, a permanent bilian chancel to
which a nave could be added when the additional room was required.
Twenty-five pounds from the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge
was all the money then in hand to begin with; but very soon more was
collected, and when I visited Banting in 1857 there was a lovely little
church standing on the hill overlooking the village, and surrounded by
beautiful trees. The walk to it from the mission-house was just like a
gentleman's park, the green sward and groups of trees with lovely peeps
of hill and valleys and winding streams between. Again in 1864 we went
to Banting, that the Bishop might consecrate the church. The nave was
then built. Every stick in the church was bilian. The white ants walked
in as soon as the workmen left. In one night they carried their covered
ways all over the inside of the roof, the walls, the beams, and rafters;
and finding nothing they could bite, they walked out again, leaving
their traces plainly marked. Since then a coloured-glass window,
representing our Lord's Resurrection, has been added at the east end of
the church; and, what is better far, the church is full of Dyak
Christians every Sunday, and from this living Church many branches have
been planted, so that the Banting Mission now includes seven stations,
where there are school-churches built by the natives themselves, and
many hundreds of Christian worshippers.
In 1854, six years having passed away since a little band of Sir James
Brooke's friends founded the Borneo Church Mission, the funds of the
Society came to an end; and the mission would have collapsed also, had
not the venerable Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign
Parts consented to become responsible for it. As the missionaries and
catechists increased in number, and fresh stations were added to the
church, they opened their arms wider to receive them, until they set
apart £3000 a year for Borneo. Under their fostering care the mission
flourished, as it could not have done under the management of any
private society.