SOJOURN OF THREE MONTHS AMONG THE SAVAGE STIÊNS--MANNERS OF THIS
TRIBE--PRODUCTS OF THE COUNTRY--FAUNA--MANNERS OF THE ANNAMITES.
THE SAVAGE STIENS.
I resided nearly three months among the savage Stiêns. Is this too
short a period to enable me to form an opinion of them? One would think
so, on hearing Father Guilloux repeat often that, although he has lived
here two years, he is yet far from knowing all their superstitions and
_devilries_.
We are surrounded by forests, which are infested with elephants,
buffaloes, rhinoceros, tigers, and wild boars, and the ground all
about the pools is covered with their footprints. We live almost as
in a besieged place, every moment dreading some attack of the enemy,
and keeping our guns constantly loaded. Sometimes they come close to
our quarters, and we cannot go even a few steps into the woods without
hearing them. As a general rule, however, they fly from the approach of
man, and in order to get a shot it is necessary to lie in wait either
amongst the branches of a tree or hidden amid the brushwood near the
spots where they come to drink.
Scorpions, centipedes, and, above all, serpents, were the enemies we
most dreaded, and against which precautions were chiefly requisite;
but the mosquitoes and the leeches, though less dangerous, were the
most troublesome and most inveterate plagues. During the rainy season
you cannot be too much on your guard; going to bed or getting up, you
are ever in peril of putting hand or foot on some venomous snake. I
have killed more than one in my house with a gun or a hatchet. As I
write, I am obliged to be continually on the watch, fearing to see one
reappear on which I trod this evening, but which made his exit without
hurting me. From time to time, also, I stop to listen to the roaring
of a tiger, who is wandering round our dwelling and looking longingly
at the pigs through their fence of planks and bamboos. Again, I hear a
rhinoceros breaking down the bamboos which oppose his progress towards
the brambles encircling our garden, on which he intends to banquet.
The savage Stiêns who inhabit this region have probably the same
origin as those who people the mountains and the table-land which
separate the kingdoms of Siam and Cambodia from that of Annam, and
which extend along the great river from 11° north lat. and between
106° and 108° east long. They form as many separate communities as
there are villages, and seem to be a race distinct from all the people
who surround them. I am myself inclined to believe them to be the
aborigines of the country, and to suppose that they have been driven
back from the sea and the rivers to the districts now occupied by
them by the successive invasions of the Thibetans, who have spread
themselves over Laos, Siam, and Cambodia, and nothing that I can
discover leads to any other supposition.[21]
[21] The drawings of M. Mouhot at first sight recall those of the
Polynesians of the North, and more especially of the Carolinas, as they
are depicted in the works of Gutke, of Duperoy, and of Dumont d’Urville.
[Illustration:
Drawn by M. Bocourt, from a Sketch by M. Mouhot.
SAVAGE STIEN.]
These savages are so strongly attached to their forests and mountains
that to quit them seems almost like death, and those who are dragged as
slaves to the neighbouring countries languish under captivity and try
every method of escape, frequently with success. Like other savages,
they have appeared formidable to their neighbours, and the fear
inspired by them has occasioned exaggerated reports of their wonderful
skill in shooting with the bow, as well as of the pestilential climate.
However, it is a fact that fever prevails here terribly; numbers of
Annamites and Cambodians have fallen victims to it, and I am assured
that I am the only stranger who has come without suffering from it more
or less. These people love the deep shade of the pathless woods, which
they do not trouble themselves to cut down; but if they cling to their
country, they do not to any particular locality, for if they meet with
any inconvenience in their neighbourhood, or if any of their family
die of fever, they raise their camp, take their children in baskets on
their backs, and set off to make a settlement elsewhere; land is not
wanting, and the forest everywhere alike.
These tribes are nearly independent, although the Cambodians on one
side, and the Laotians and Annamites on the other, levy on the villages
near them a triennial tribute of rice and wax. The King of Cambodia
does not want the will to treat the Stiêns as he did the Thiâmes, in
order to people some of his desert provinces.
The inscription placed--alas! so vainly--on our public edifices is
here, notwithstanding slavery, the motto of the people, and its
sincerity is evidenced in their practice. We use words; they act. If
there is abundance at one house, the whole village shares in it, and
when scarcity prevails, which is often the case, all alike suffer.
[Illustration:
Drawn by M. Bocourt, from a Sketch by M. Mouhot.
SAVAGE STIEN.]
They work admirably in iron and ivory, and some tribes are noted, as
in Annam, for their hatchets and the beautiful workmanship of their
sabres. Their drinking-vessels are rude, but of their own manufacture,
and the women weave and dye the long fine scarfs which they wear, the
best of which are often valued at the price of an ox. They cultivate
rice, maize, tobacco, various kinds of vegetables, and fruit-trees,
such as bananas, mangoes, and oranges. Every person of any substance
possesses several slaves, and a field, always at some distance from
the village, and very carefully attended to. In these fields, in little
huts raised on piles, the Stiêns pass the whole of the rainy season,
during which they can neither hunt nor fish, both on account of the
inclement weather and the leeches, the immense numbers of which, as in
the forests of Siam, make them a perfect pest.
[Illustration:
Drawn by M. Bocourt, from a Sketch by M. Mouhot.
SAVAGE STIENS SOWING THEIR RICE.]
RICE CULTIVATION.
IMPROVIDENCE OF THE PEOPLE.
Their manner of preparing a rice-field is very different from the way
in which our agriculturists set about matters. As soon as the first
rains begin to fall, the Stiên chooses his ground, and busies himself
in clearing it. This would be a laborious task for a European; but he,
with his hatchet with cane handle, has in a few days cut down a thicket
of bamboos 100 or 150 mètres square. If he meets with any tree too
large for him to manage, he leaves it standing. After a few days, when
the canes are a little dry, he sets fire to them, and the field is soon
cleared. As for the roots, he cares little about them, as no digging
is required; on this virgin soil everything grows with little labour.
There only remains to sow the seed, and for this purpose he takes two
long bamboos, which he lays in a line on the ground; then, with a stick
in each hand, he makes on each side of this line holes about an inch
or an inch and a half deep at short distances. The man’s work is now
finished, and that of the woman begins: stooping down, she follows the
line traced by her husband, and from a basket carried at her left side
takes a handful of rice, of which she throws a few grains into each
hole with great rapidity, and at the same time so dexterously that it
is rare for any to fall outside. In a few hours the task is finished,
for here there is no need of harrow or plough; kind Nature will soon
send some violent showers, which, washing the soil over the holes,
will cover the seeds. Then the proprietor establishes himself in his
hut, where, as he smokes his cigarette (made of tobacco rolled in some
leaf), he lets fly his arrows at the wild boars, apes, or goats, or
amuses himself by frightening away the doves and parroquets. To this
end, a couple of bamboos are so placed in the middle of the field that,
by pulling a rope made of rattan, they are made to strike against each
other, and the noise scares away the birds, which without some such
contrivance would eat up all the seed. The harvest is reaped at the end
of October. Generally, two months previously poverty and famine begin
to make themselves felt. As long as provisions last they feast without
ever thinking of the morrow; when they are exhausted they are reduced
to eat serpents, toads, and bats, which last are found in great numbers
in the hollows of the old bamboos. Often they have even to content
themselves with the seeds of the maize, young bamboo-shoots, wild
roots, and other spontaneous productions of the ground.
All the domestic animals of the neighbouring countries, such as oxen,
pigs, fowls, and ducks, are found here, but in small numbers. Elephants
are scarce; but farther north, among the tribe of the Benams, it is
said that no village is without them.
When the harvest has been gathered in the Stiêns commence a series
of festivities. The rice having been piled up in oblong stacks, they
take from these every morning as much as suffices for the day’s
consumption. One community sends invitations to another, and the
inhabitants of a wealthy village will often kill as many as ten oxen
for the entertainment; all must be consumed before they separate, and
day and night they eat and drink to the accompaniment of the Chinese
tam-tam and tambourine. This excess, after a long period of privation,
brings on illness, commonly the itch and other cutaneous disorders.
Much of this, however, also proceeds from the want of salt, which they
cannot always procure. For all internal complaints, the general remedy
here, as in Cambodia, is an iron heated in the fire and applied to the
pit of the stomach, and there are few men without scars on this part of
the body.
MANNERS AND CUSTOMS.
They are acquainted with many of the remedies drawn from simples; they
never cover up a wound or sore, but leave it exposed to the air and
sun, and it generally heals. They appear to be exempt from leprosy, so
common among the Chinese; but then they are very cleanly, and bathe in
all weathers, often three times a day.
The Stiêns have no resemblance to either the Cambodian or Annamite
races; like the last, however, they wear the hair long, twisted up, and
fastened by a bamboo comb, in which is often inserted, for ornament,
a piece of brass wire surmounted by the crest of a pheasant. They are
usually above the middle height, are well proportioned and robust;
their features are regular, and the thick eyebrows and beard of the
men, when they do not pull out the hair from the face, give them a
grave appearance. The forehead is well developed, and announces an
intelligence much beyond that of the Annamites. Their manners are
hospitable, and a stranger is always certain of being well received
and feasted. They either kill a pig or fowl, and offer you wine,
which is not drunk out of any sort of vessel, but sucked, through a
bamboo cane, from a large jar; it is made from rice, fermented, but
rarely distilled. To refuse a pipe when offered is considered a great
rudeness, which more than one savage has paid for by a knife-thrust. It
is also etiquette to eat the whole of the food set before you.
Their only dress is the long scarf I have already mentioned, and which,
when worn, appears only about two inches wide. I often surprised them
quite naked in their cabins; but on perceiving me they always covered
themselves.
The greatest liberty is allowed to slaves, and corporal punishment is
never inflicted on any one. For theft, a forfeit is exacted of a pig
or ox, and several jars of wine, of which the whole village partake.
If the fine be not paid, it rapidly increases in amount; the offender
is soon in debt to the community for fifteen or twenty buffaloes, and
finally he is sold as a slave.
SUPERSTITIONS.
The Stiêns have neither priests nor temples, yet they recognise the
existence of a supreme being, to whom they refer everything good or
evil; they call him “Brâ,” and invoke him in all cases. They believe
also in an evil genius, and attribute all diseases to him. If any one
be suffering from illness, they say it is the demon tormenting him;
and, with this idea, make, night and day, an insupportable noise around
the patient, which they keep up until one of the party falls in a kind
of fit, crying out, “He has passed into my body; he is stifling me.”
They then question the new patient, asking him, first, what remedies to
give the sick man, and how the demon can be made to abandon his prey.
Sometimes the sacrifice of a pig or an ox is required, often a human
victim; in this latter case they pitilessly seize upon a slave and
offer him up to the evil genius.
Funerals are solemnly performed, the whole village assisting, with the
exception of the nearest relatives, who generally remain at home. All
those present fill the air with lamentable cries. They bury their dead
near their dwellings, covering the tomb with a little roof of branches,
beneath which they place gourds full of water, and sometimes small bows
and arrows; and every day some member of the family comes and sows a
few grains of rice, that the dead may have something to eat. These
customs resemble those of the Chinese.
Before every meal they take care to spill a little rice to feed the
souls of their ancestors, and in their fields and other places formerly
frequented by them they make similar little offerings to them. At the
end of a long bamboo planted in the ground they suspend plumes of
reeds; lower down are fastened smaller bamboos containing a few drops
of wine or water; and, lastly, on a slight trellis-work raised above
the ground, is laid some earth, in which they stick an arrow, and on
which they throw a few grains of cooked rice, a bone, a little tobacco,
and a leaf.
According to their belief, animals also have souls which wander about
after their death; thus, when they have killed one, fearing lest its
soul should come and torment them, they ask pardon for the evil they
have done to it, and offer sacrifices proportioned to the strength and
size of the animal. For an elephant, the ceremony is conducted with
pomp; the head is ornamented with crowns, and musical performances
on the tam-tam and tambourine, with singing, are continued for seven
consecutive days. The whole village, summoned by sound of trumpet,
assembles to take part in the fête, and every one is entitled to a
portion of the flesh.
The Stiêns smoke the flesh of the animals when they desire to preserve
it for any length of time; but ordinarily, all those taken in the chase
are eaten on the spot, and within a few days; they then merely singe
them whole, without skinning, and afterwards cut them in pieces and
cook them.
It is rare to meet a Stiên without his cross-bow in his hand, his knife
over his shoulder, and a basket on his back, which serves both for
quiver and game-bag. Hunting and fishing occupy all the time not given
to the cultivation of the ground. They are indefatigable in the chase,
and glide amidst the thickest woods with the speed of a deer, seeming
not to feel fatigue. The women appear as robust and strong as the men.
Their cross-bows are very effective weapons, and they are skilful in
the use of them; but rarely shoot from a distance of more than fifty
paces. They use poisoned arrows for the larger animals, the venom being
extremely rapid in its effects; if the beast, whether it be elephant,
tiger, or rhinoceros, have the skin ever so slightly pierced, so that
the poison touches the blood, it is almost certain to be found dead a
few hundred yards from the place where it was struck.
They are very fond of ornaments, particularly beads of brilliant
colours, which they make into bracelets. Glass ornaments and brass wire
pass among them as money; a buffalo or an ox is valued at six armfulls
of thick brass wire; a pig is nearly as dear; but for a small piece of
fine wire or a bead necklace you can purchase a pheasant or a hundred
ears of maize. Men generally wear a bracelet above the elbow and one at
the wrist; but the women cover both arms and legs with these ornaments.
Both sexes have their ears pierced, and widen the hole every year by
inserting pieces of bone or ivory three inches long.
Polygamy is held in honour among the Stiêns, although only the chiefs
are rich enough to allow themselves the luxury of several wives.
ECLIPSE OF THE SUN.
While I was among them there was a total eclipse of the sun, which, if
I remember right, was also visible in England. Like the Cambodians,
on the occurrence of such phenomena, they believe that some being has
swallowed up the sun and moon; and in order to deliver them, they made
a frightful noise, beat the tam-tam, uttered savage cries, and shot
arrows into the air, until the sun reappeared.
One of their favourite amusements is to send up kites, to which they
attach a musical instrument somewhat resembling a bow, and this, when
agitated by the wind, produces sweet and melodious sounds to which they
are fond of listening.
Their memories are bad, and they have great difficulty in learning to
calculate. If a hundred ears of maize are to be offered for sale, they
are arranged in tens, to make sure that the number is correct. Their
notions of geography are very limited; they imagine that white men
inhabit only a few obscure corners of the globe, and, judging of them
by the Catholic missionaries, doubt much if they have any women among
them.
MODE OF WARFARE.
Hostilities between one village and another are not infrequent, but
they are never very serious: they seek to surprise and take one another
prisoners in the fields or pathways, and the captives are sold as
slaves to the Laotians or Cambodians. Their disposition is gentle and
timid, and at the least alarm of an enemy they retire into the forest,
previously placing in the paths sharp-pointed stakes of bamboo, which
often pierce quite through the feet of their pursuers.
The manners of the savages of Brelum and those of the surrounding
villages differ considerably; this is owing to the influence of the
good and courageous missionaries, who, although they do not make many
converts--which is their chief trouble--have at least the consolation
of being able by their presence, good counsel, and example, to soften
and enlighten these poor creatures--in one word, to civilize them.
THE FAUNA.
The Fauna of this country does not differ much from that of the kingdom
of Siam; thus, with the exception of some beautiful new species
of insects and land shells, and a number of interesting birds, I
shall gain by my excursion nothing but the pleasure of having been
able to study the habits of a curious people, and the not inferior
gratification of making them known to the public, should these rough
notes, written hastily, and with no claim to any merit but truth, be
destined to see the light. Whether God reserves for me the happiness of
again seeing my native country, in which event it will be my endeavour
to put them into some sort of readable shape; or whether I fall a
victim to pestilence or ferocious beasts, and some kind person takes
charge of these sheets, scribbled generally by the light of a torch,
and on my knees at the foot of a tree, amidst interruptions of all
sorts, of which the mosquitoes are not the least annoying; in either
case, living or dead, I shall need, I am aware, an indulgence seldom
granted. Most readers prefer being amused to being instructed; while
my sole aim has been to paint faithfully, and to the best of my poor
abilities, what came under my observation.
PRIVATIONS OF MISSIONARIES.
My arrival here was--I may say it without vanity, for I was a stranger
to him--quite an event in the poor missionary’s lonely life; and the
landing--for it did not deserve the name of room--left vacant by the
departure of Father Arnoux, was placed at my disposal. I ask pardon of
the good, brave, and generous priests who have aided, welcomed, and
sheltered me through all my wanderings, if I have spoken too plainly of
their poverty and privations of all kinds; if I have raised the curtain
which, perhaps, they would wish to keep drawn, for, I repeat, they look
not for recompense in this world; but I have done it that the world
may know that their life is one of the hardest and most painful, and
requires self-sacrifice more than any other. Exposed to the influence
of pernicious climates, badly lodged, badly fed, far from their
families and from their country, often ill and dying without help--such
is the lot of these men.
The house of uncle Apait was at least as elegant and well furnished as
that of the humble priest at Brelum: both had the bare ground for a
floor, walls of bamboo canes, and dried grass for thatch. The hut was
divided into four compartments, two being used by the missionaries,
another by their servant, and the fourth served as a chapel. This, like
the others, was far from splendid, and the whole house had been so
undermined by the white ants, that it seemed menaced with approaching
ruin.
[Illustration:
Drawn by M. H. Rousseau, from a Photograph.
AMAZON OF THE KING’S FEMALE GUARDS.]
THE ANNAMITES.
Speaking of the Annamite servants, I shall quote what the Abbé Gagelin
says about them, for I can testify to its truth. “All sensibility,”
says he, “appears deadened among them; they are very proud, however,
and great cheats. There is so little affection among them, that the
nearest relations never think of embracing; even a child, returning
to his parents after a ten years’ absence, would not think of such
a thing. Among brothers and sisters it would be considered almost a
scandal. They will not permit us missionaries to caress a child, not
even a baby. This coldness is not confined to their domestic relations;
under an ardent sky, which should warm the imagination, they, in their
stupid _sang froid_, will not tolerate in a preacher the slightest
movement or gesture.” However, to compensate for these defects, the
abbé, who, even in the opinion of several of the other missionaries,
has been guilty of great errors in his letters, might have added that,
at times, they are capable of acts of devotion and self-sacrifice truly
great and courageous.
The French missionaries in Cochin China must have had many proofs of
this, for, hunted as they are like wild beasts, they could not long
escape the vigilant eyes of the mandarins, nor continue, in spite
of the most terrible persecutions, to reside in the country. It is
death for any one to be caught sheltering or assisting a priest; but,
notwithstanding, they and their goods are conveyed in boats from
Singapore, eluding all the spies set to watch for them, and remain
hidden for months and even years. If an alarm is raised, in spite of
the danger of discovery, they are conveyed to another locality, where
they find new friends equally ready to peril their lives for them.
Missions are founded amongst the most savage tribes; and in spite of
the terrible reputation of this climate, in spite of fevers, wild
beasts, and love of home, the missionary has but to speak, and he is
sure to find poor Christians ready to follow him, often without fee or
reward. In what country in the world, among what civilized people of
the West, can you find more than this?
Intelligent, and with a desire for civilization, the only difficulty is
to know how to guide them. From my own experience and that of others, I
believe the Annamite to be lively, adroit, intelligent, and courageous;
but obstinate, vindictive, a dissembler, a liar, and a thief; slow
to get into a passion, but terrible when he does so. His dirtiness
surpasses anything I have ever seen, and his food is abominably nasty.
Rotten fish and dog’s flesh are his favourite diet.
[Illustration:
Drawn by M. Catenacci, from a sketch by M. Mouhot.
SCENE IN THE JUNGLE BETWEEN BATTAMBONG AND BANGKOK.]
TIGER HUNTING.
The tiger of Annam is terribly savage, and his strength is equal to
his ferocity. Often, however, a couple of men will go alone to attack
one, armed merely with pikes. As soon as they see the animal, the more
powerful or more courageous of the two lowers his pike; the tiger
hesitates a moment, and sometimes, if not pressed by hunger, turns and
disappears with the rapidity of lightning; but at other times he will
make a spring at the hunter, when, if the force of the leap do not
carry him right over the man’s head, he falls upon the pike, which the
hunter then elevates by pressing the handle on the ground. The second
hunter now comes forward, and in his turn pierces him, and uniting
their strength, they both hold him down till he dies. Occasionally
the first man misses his aim, and his pike breaks; then all is over
for one, if not both. The most common method of hunting the tiger has
more actors engaged. There is in every village some experienced
man who leads the attack; and if any one has been carried off by one
of these animals, the tam-tam is sounded to summon people from the
neighbouring villages to follow this leader after the creature. As
he always sleeps near the spot where he has left the remains of his
repast, they are pretty sure of discovering his retreat.
When they have tracked the tiger to his lair, all the hunters form a
circle as large as their number will allow, and sufficiently apart
not to impede each other’s movements. These preparations completed,
the leader makes sure that the animal has no outlet for escape. Some
of the most daring then venture into the centre and cut away the
brushwood, during which operation they are protected by others armed
with pikes. The tiger, pressed on all sides, rolls his eyes, licks his
paws in a convulsive manner, as though preparing for combat, then,
with a frightful howl, he makes his spring. Immediately every pike is
raised, and the animal falls pierced through and through. Accidents not
infrequently happen, and many are often severely hurt; but they have no
choice but to wage war against the tigers, which leave them no rest,
force the enclosures, and carry off domestic animals and even men, not
only from the roads and close vicinity of the houses, but from the
interiors of the buildings. In Annam, the fear inspired by the tigers,
elephants, and other wild animals, makes the people address them with
the greatest respect; they give them the title of “Grandfather” or
“Lord,” fearing that they may be offended, and show resentment by
attacking them.
CLIMATE.
During the three months I passed in Brelum and its environs, my two
poor servants were almost constantly ill with fever. I think myself
very fortunate to have preserved my health, for even in these forests
I have not had a touch of this complaint. In the rainy season the
atmosphere is dreadfully damp and oppressive; in the thickest wood,
where the sun scarcely penetrates, you might fancy yourself in a stove,
and with the slightest exercise you are in a bath of perspiration.
In July and August we experienced violent storms, which burst out every
second or third day; but in September and October it rained without
intermission. At the beginning of November, after a change of wind,
we had some refreshing nights, which made the thermometer fall to 12°
centigrade. From noon to three o’clock there was little variation in
the temperature.
Having paid visits to all the villages in the neighbourhood, and been
visited in return by many of the inhabitants, I announced to my two
excellent friends the missionaries that I must shortly leave them, and
fixed my departure for the 29th November, meaning to return to Pinhalú
and Udong, and from thence to ascend the Mekon as far as the great lake
Touli-Sap.