up among the Tinjar people for many months, and was perhaps feeling a
little sore over his poor bargains, let fall to Dr. Hose, the English
Resident of the Baram district, some hints that again set in motion the
wheels of justice and soon fastened the guilt of that murder on Tinggi,
a dweller in the house of Tama Talip. The culprit was at once summoned
to appear for trial at the Baram Fort, but his people hid him and
resolutely defied the Government; consequently, a reward was offered for
his capture alive, or for his head, if dead. Nevertheless, the Tinjar
people continued to conceal and protect Tinggi, even after an influential
Chief had been deposed by the Government for his duplicity in the matter,
and, possibly, for the transparent quality of the lies he manufactured.
There remained, therefore, nothing to be done but to appoint an entire
stranger, a native from another river, to lead an expedition against the
Lerons, the tribe that was protecting Tinggi. The man thus appointed
was Tama Bulan, a Kenyah, and the most influential Chief in the Baram
district, who accepted the appointment and gathered a force to ascend the
Tinjar. Among his followers was Juman, a Kayan Chief and the lucky and
sole possessor of a gun. Tama Bulan had been strictly commanded to take
Tinggi, and no one else but Tinggi; on no account was he to suffer his
Kayan or Kenyah followers to kill innocent people. Juman, with a small
party ascended the Tinjar, to a point opposite the house of the Lerons.
Tinggi, the murderer, emerged unattended from the house, entered a light
canoe, and was crossing the river, apparently to surrender himself, when,
at the last moment, he seemed to change his mind, and resolved to attempt
an escape. In an instant, taking advantage of the swift current, he was
dashing past Juman’s camp. The details of his death I had, as follows,
from Juman himself: ‘Tinggi came down the river, Tuan, lying flat in his
canoe until he was just opposite to me and my men; then he stood up,
straight, brandishing his spear and his parang, and shouting defiance to
us all. But,’ continued Juman, his eyes glowing with excitement, ‘I was
all ready, Tuan; I raised this “snappang”[8] of mine, that the Government
gave me; it was loaded full of nails; and I shot that insect, Tinggi,
right here,—through the breast. Over he fell backward in his boat; he
kept on waving his arms; I paddled fast after him in a canoe; I got along
side of him; I caught hold of his head; I pulled it over to the edge of
the boat; with two chops of my parang, like that and like that, off it
came.’
This head was the first Juman had ever taken, and measureless was his
pride in displaying the tattooing, to which he was thereby entitled,
on the back of one of his hands; the other hand was to be similarly
decorated as soon as the harvesting was over. Tinggi’s head he was
allowed to hang from the roof of his veranda, opposite his door, in his
house at Bowang Takun. Although this slaying of Tinggi was retributive
justice, yet according to Borneo sentiment, it was a _causa belli_,
and when I arrived at the Baram River, on a second visit to Borneo,
about three months after these events, there were already reports of
retaliating expeditions led by Tinggi’s brother, Kilup, in which the
Tinjar people generally joined, against the peaceful dwellers on the
Baram; women had been frightened from the rice-clearings by the traces of
recent camp-fires, and of fresh footprints in the adjacent jungle, and
doubtless would have been attacked, and killed, and decapitated, had not
their husbands mounted guard each day, clad in war-coat and war-cap, and
fully armed with spear, parang, and shield. Reports of new disturbances
and threatened outrage came by every canoe from up the river that halted
at the Baram Bazaar, until finally Dr. Hose determined to crush out
this portentous feud betimes before it reached greater and, possibly,
unmanageable proportions.
[Illustration: BORNEAN WAR COSTUME.
THE FEATHERS OF THE HORN-BILL ON THE WAR-CLOAK, AND THE TUFTS OF HUMAN
HAIR ON THE SHIELD, WHICH THE WARRIOR HOLDS, ARE THE BADGES OF A
SUCCESSFUL HEAD-HUNTER.]
The whole Kayan population of the river was, moreover, somewhat in a
commotion, owing to the accidental death of Oyang Luhat, one of its
influential Chiefs. The control of three or four hundred people had thus
fallen to his eldest son, Abun, and the large household were beginning
to fret under the tedious restraints of the prolonged mourning; these
restraints could be removed only by adding to the household collection
a beneficent fresh head or two; consequently, under a new and vigorous
young leader there was imminent danger of an extensive and formidable
raid upon all the Tinjar people. Furthermore, it happened to be just at
the beginning of the rainy season, when there was nothing to be done but
to wait for the rice, already planted, to sprout and grow. Even in highly
civilized communities, Satan finds some mischief still for idle hands
to do, so, too, in Borneo what can be more natural than that days of
idleness should prompt a mischievous use of spear and parang?
His Excellency, Rajah Brooke, (this wise and beneficent ruler,) has,
of course, made every possible effort to eradicate the custom of
head-hunting in Sarawak, but in a country without roads, and where news
travels no faster than the river’s sluggish current, swift retribution
for any outrage is impossible; and, with the small force of Englishmen
who act as his Residents, it is almost inconceivably difficult, in
districts isolated by well-nigh impenetrable jungle, to follow up
and arrest any offender, much more a head-hunter, whom the natives
themselves, holding head-hunting to be a most praiseworthy virtue, screen
to the best of their ability.
Where the decapitated victim has relatives or near and dear friends,
there the Rajah’s officers may possibly obtain some aid; but even under
these favorable conditions, the information is reluctantly given,
unless the hope is held out of a participation in the punishment or the
retaliation.
In such circumstances, it is remarkable and redounds greatly to the
efficiency of the Sarawak government, that exceedingly few murderers
escape detection and punishment, even should it take years to trace them.
The punishment is not always a death sentence; it may be a heavy fine.
The veneration with which the practice of head-hunting is regarded by the
tribes of the central high-lands, and the fact that they have been taught
by their fathers and grandfathers that it is a religious duty, cannot but
influence the Rajah and his Residents to incline to leniency in their
judicial sentences on these people whenever there has been provocation,
albeit slight, for the commission of the deed. Where a whole household of
more than a hundred men has made an unprovoked raid upon an unsuspecting
neighbor, the Rajah, on several occasions, has wisely allowed the injured
tribe to make, as a kind of ‘wild justice,’ a retaliating raid upon the
aggressors; but the expedition has been always under the direction of one
of his Residents, who makes sure that only the guilty are attacked,—if
unrestrained, the natives would be driven by excitement to kill all who
cross their path, whether friend or foe.
To resume the story of the troublous times on the Baram. It was
decided by the Government to quiet the disturbances at the very outset
by administering a severe lesson to those turbulent natives on the
Tinjar who still resented the legal slaying of the murderer, Tinggi;
accordingly, a war expedition was planned, which should be the means of
intimidating the seditious tribe, without, it was ardently hoped, the
shedding of any blood, and, withal, of such an imposing character that
the mere demonstration might, of itself, lead even to a lasting peace.
[Illustration: COUNCIL OF WAR, DURING A MARCH TO THE HOUSE OF AN
ENEMY.]
Dr. Hose decided, first of all, to investigate the truth of the rumours
concerning the marauding Lerons. With this end in view, he decided to set
out at once for the house of the young Chief, Abun, just mentioned, about
one hundred and twenty miles up the Baram, where, if the rumours proved
correct, his forces could be mustered.
We arrived after dark at Long Lama (‘Long’ meaning the _mouth of a
river_, and ‘Lama’ being the name of a stream at whose junction with the
Baram Abun’s house is situated). The river’s bank, sloping gradually in
low, irregular terraces of sandy mud up to the house, about a hundred
and fifty yards from the shore, was dotted in all directions with
little fires, whereon the natives were cooking venison. A deer had been
killed in the clearings, and, although the flesh is one of the greatest
of delicacies, it must never be cooked in the house; the timidity of
the deer will be infused into the household. By inhaling its spirit,
liberated by fire, young men assimilate its timidity and become cowards
in battle,—therefore the flesh is cooked in the open air, and the
timid spirit at once makes its way again to the jungle. Several of the
natives, when they recognized us, deserted their flesh-pots and came
down to meet us, carrying fire-brands, which they waved vigorously to
keep them blazing and give us light. Of course, all knew that a visit
from the Resident meant something of importance, but, according to Kayan
etiquette, the purpose must not be broached until we were settled in the
veranda. Escorted by these torch-bearers we picked our way past the fires
up the soggy, muddy bank, walked warily on the pathway of slippery logs,
and so to the notched log whereby the veranda is gained.
The immense long-house, looking on its high, multitudinous piles like
a gigantic centipede, stretched far away to the right and to the left
into the darkness under rustling cocoanut palms; mongrel dogs barked and
yapped round our heels, and from beneath the house snorting pigs rushed
hither and thither in all directions. The house seemed deserted; the
restrictions of mourning had banished all mirth, music, and song; the
only signs of life along its whole length were three or four dim fires
flickering on the clay hearths; hardly a sound was to be heard in it.
With as much dignity as can be assumed when crawling on all fours up
an almost perpendicular, and slippery, and notched pole, we gained the
veranda, where the young Chief greeted us cordially, and ceremoniously
conducted us to the clay hearth, the place of honor, in front of his own
door. Fresh wood to replenish the fire was brought, and several small
tin kerosene lamps, made by Chinese at the Bazaar, and without glass
chimneys, were placed here and there, on the floor, and on the beams. It
was not advisable, even had it been etiquette, to divulge at once the
purpose of our visit, or even to allude to the Tinjar people; so dropping
cross-legged about the fire, we accepted the proffered bead-work box of
coarse Kayan tobacco and banana-leaf wrappers, and joined the encircling
and rapidly increasing group, in a social cigarette. The talk drifted
up-river and down-river, discussing crops of rice and the promise of the
abundance of rattan, or of gutta, or of camphor yet to be gathered in
the jungle. Occasional puffs of hot air were wafted in under the eaves,
bringing with them the combined scent of the fires on the bank, of mud,
and of damp chips from the logs which beneath the house were being
fashioned into canoes. The brief twilight of the tropics was gone, the
night was already as black as ink, although it was barely a half hour
after sunset, and the insects had not yet begun the incessant din of
their nocturnal medley.
Gradually, Dr. Hose led up the conversation to the killing of Tinggi and
to the retaliation of the Lerons. At once eyes flashed, and every man
was eager to set forth his account of the outrages; some asserted that
women and children working in the rice-fields had been murdered; others
maintained that certain rattan-cutters had caught sight of a large force
of Tinjar people, in the jungle close by Long Lama; again, others said
that the Tinjar marauders numbered hundreds, while others contended that
there were, at most, but a dozen or so. Finally, it turned out that no
one present had actually seen a single enemy, and the substance of the
stories was so flimsy that the purpose of the expedition threatened to
come to naught, when suddenly our ears caught the rhythmical and rapid
thump of paddles, followed by the grating sound of the beaching of
canoes. Flickering torches struggled up the bank toward the house, and,
as though by telepathy, it flashed upon every one that Juman himself was
at hand.
[Illustration: A CHIEF AND TWO SLAVES IN WAR COSTUME.
THE SLAVES ARE MAKING READY THE POISONED DARTS FOR THEIR BLOW-PIPES.
IN THEIR HAMPERS ARE THE SLEEPING-MATS FOR THE CHIEF AND THEIR COOKING
POTS.]
Presently, sure enough, in came the hero of the hour, with fifteen or
twenty followers. All took their places amid the squatting group, as
unconcernedly as if their minds were as free of care, as their bodies
of clothes. Juman seated himself beside us on the low platform. Again,
we had to comply with the inviolable rules of Bornean propriety, and
converse on any subject under heaven, save on the sole object of the
visit; but this time it did not take so long to beat about the bush.
After a few decorous minutes, Juman, jumping to his feet, poured forth
to the assembly a harrowing account of the horrid dangers to which his
household was exposed every hour of the day and night from this crowd
of skulking, murderous Lerons! He spoke in Kayan, a language of soft,
lingual, and prolonged vowel sounds, abruptly interspersed with short
gutturals pronounced far back in the throat; and while relating his
wrongs he stamped with his bare feet, turning first to this side, then
to that, wildly waving his arms, snapping his fingers, and emphasising
the close of each sentence by shouting ‘Bahh! bahh!’—a convenient
exclamation to gain time for ideas; I fear it corresponded to the cough
which afflicts our own after-dinner speakers. The telling point of the
speech was that the camp of the enemy had been actually discovered close
to Juman’s own fields, and, from the way that the jungle had been trodden
down, the war-party must be in large numbers; much of the rice had been
uprooted just as it was beginning to sprout, and many of their banana
trees had been wantonly slashed to pieces. There were men here with
Juman,—he called them forth and bade them tell their stories,—who had
actually seen the encampment of the enemy, and the hundreds of footprints
on the bank of the stream where they had rested. Juman was clearly an
orator, and swayed at will the emotions of the assembly; volleys of
grunts marked approval of his eager words; cigarettes burned quick and
fast under excited puffing.
When Juman dropped on his haunches, there followed an ominous
silence,—the hush before a storm. Dr. Hose at once perceived that the
native blood was deeply stirred, and that these reports about the
Lerons, who had no right to be in this part of the country at all, were
probably correct, and would infallibly lead to an indiscriminate war.
The thirst of the people for vengeance must not be absolutely thwarted,
but judiciously controlled. Accordingly, he at once addressed them
very earnestly, approving of their just indignation, and fearlessly
telling them that the reason why their expeditions so often failed was
because they lost so much time in consulting Omen Birds, that the enemy
had time to prepare themselves or to decamp. Now was the hour when the
lives of their wives and children depended upon instant action, and he
impressively concluded by saying:—
‘This time do not ask advice from birds, get ready to-night at once, and
we’ll all start at dawn to-morrow and chase these thieves and cowards
back to their river! or else many fresh heads will hang in the houses on
the Baram! But remember, that though the Government is with you in this
fight, it makes war on the guilty, and on no one but the guilty. Go,
therefore! Send messengers without delay, up-river and down, to summon
all Kayan fighters to arms! And to be ready to join us to-morrow before
the birds wake up!’
For several seconds every man sat motionless with dilated eyes and open
mouth, hardly realising the joyful news. Then with one wild shout all
bounded to their feet, and the whole house from end to end was staring
wide awake and fairly quivering with life! Canoes were hastily launched
in the darkness and dispatched up and down the black river, to bear the
swift news to friendly houses miles away. The slamming of doors was
incessant, dusty and long unused spears, shields, war-coats, caps, were
eagerly brought from sleeping-rooms into the veranda, for inspection,
or for repairs, or for fresh decorations. Clay lamps with damar-gum
sizzling, sputtering, and smoking, were lit everywhere. Crouched about
one lamp was a group of young men warming fresh ‘Ipoh’ (_arrow poison_),
and smearing it on the tips of the darts for their blow-pipes. Around
another, was gathered a group busily cutting new darts and shaping the
pith butts to fit tightly in the bore of the blow-pipe. Others sharpened
their spears and parangs, rearranging the dangling charms, which they
smeared with the blood of chickens, while murmuring exhortations to
them to protect the bearer from all harm and help the parang to deal
death at a single blow. All the women, too, and the girls, joined in
the hurry-scurry, and stitched, on the backs of war-coats, horn-bill
feathers, or big butterflies embroidered in black and yellow beads. Many
a love-knot was tied, that night, and fastened on parang, war-coat, and
shield, and I am quite sure that some young hearts beat high with hopes
of presenting, as the fairest of bridal gifts, what no female Kayan heart
could possibly resist,—a lovely, fresh, human head. But, perhaps, I was
too sentimental, and imputed romantic aspirations to those dusky breasts
which entertained no such lodgers. For as I sat there passively watching
this strange scene, so dramatic and unreal to me, and so earnest and real
to the actors, I saw a girl with serious mien furtively thrust into a
young warrior’s hand a strip of bead-work of her own making, wherewith to
ornament the scabbard of his parang. I am sorry to say that, so far from
responding to any tender sentiment, the young fellow looked decidedly
sheepish, and not a little puzzled by the gift, and, alas! I could not
detect that he even thanked her for it. Half an hour later I saw him
wandering about, dangling the precious love-token aimlessly in his hand.
I concluded that she had better throw him over; such ardour as his, never
leads to where glory waits.
[Illustration: 1. WOODEN FORM ON WHICH THE PITH BUTTS OF THE DARTS USED
IN A BLOW-PIPE ARE SHAPED. THE PIECE OF PITH IS FASTENED ON THE POINT AT
THE END, AND CUT TO THE PROPER CONE SHAPE. THE BASE OF THE CONE IS GAUGED
BY THE WOODEN FORM, WHICH IS THE EXACT SIZE OF THE BORE OF THE BLOW-PIPE.
2. PALATE WHEREON ARROW POISON IS MIXED.]
[Illustration: KAYAN WAR-COAT OF GOAT’S SKIN.
THE WARRIOR’S HEAD IS INSERTED THROUGH THE OPENING, AND THE PART
DECORATED WITH THE FEATHERS OF A HORN-BILL PROTECTS HIS BACK, WHILE THE
SHORT FLAP, WEIGHTED WITH THE PEARL SHELL, HANGS OVER HIS CHEST. ONLY
THOSE WHO HAVE TAKEN HEADS ARE ENTITLED TO WEAR THE HORN-BILL FEATHERS,
WHICH ARE ALWAYS TRIMMED TO POINTS WHEN USED TO DECORATE WAR-COATS. THE
PEARL SHELL IS PLACED UPON THE COAT BECAUSE FROM THIS SHELL THE SPIRIT
OF A WARRIOR, SLAIN IN BATTLE, MUST MAKE THE BOAT WHICH IS TO CARRY
IT ACROSS THE RIVER TO THE HAPPY LAND OF THE DEAD. THE ORNAMENT OF
BEAD-WORK. SHAPED LIKE A BUTTERFLY, JUST BELOW THE OPENING FOR THE HEAD,
IS THE FEMININE CONTRIBUTION TOWARD THE DECORATION OF THE WAR-COAT.]
Hearing vigorous stamping and loud shouting in the room of the young
Chief, Abun, I entered unbidden. In the middle of the room, which was
unusually large, stood an old warrior decked out in war-coat and cap, and
brandishing a spear in one hand and a shield in the other; around him
in a circle sat eight or ten young men watching breathlessly his every
movement.
It was difficult to repress a smile at his antics; but the intense
earnestness and wrapt attention of his pupils were absolute; he was
instructing the novices how to lunge, guard, and parry with spear and
shield. With a shrill shout and a lofty caper he dashed at an imaginary
foe, warded off the attack with his shield, and, crouching low behind
it, gave imaginary crippling jabs with his spear, emitting loud grunts
the while, and hopping from right to left at each thrust; these thrusts
were evidently fatal to the phantom foe, for, dropping his spear, the
hoary instructor drew his parang, and with one chop, followed by sawing,
severed an imaginary head from its body. His final explosive grunt,
expressed as plain as words: ‘There it is! off at last! simple as kiss
your hand!’ Again, he backed and sidled to show the motions when an enemy
attacks in the rear; or, again, he showed how to creep stealthily, and at
the same time to keep the body thoroughly covered by the shield, which,
considering that this protecting article is four feet long by eighteen
inches wide, cannot be called a difficult problem. Of course, the
enemy was always stupid and completely deceived by the baldest feints,
and inevitably fell an easy prey. But the open-eyed and open-mouthed
youngsters drank in the instruction in gulps. Their instructor could not
be called a handsome old man, his nose was a flattened aquiline, his lips
thin and pushed far forward like a frog’s; his hands were, of course,
tattooed, for his knowledge of warfare had been gained in many a battle,
and his contribution to the household collection of heads was large; his
hair was cropped short, (probably out of respect for the late Chief,) and
stood up in gray bristles all over his head; his muscular development,
however, was fine for a man of his years, and his litheness and agility
were remarkable.
The alcove where I sat, watching this military drill, was the sleeping
platform of the old widowed mother of the Chief; her mats had been
already spread for the night, before this war excitement had begun. She
sat beside me, speaking earnestly and bravely to her three sons, Abun,
Madong, and Batu, squatting in front of her, each busily engaged, while
listening to her, in selecting from their store the best darts for their
blow-pipes, and replacing with new butts any old ones which were dry
or cracked. ‘Be brave, sons of mine,’ she said, in earnest tones, ‘and
remember your father, Oyang Luhat, the bravest of the brave, the friend
of the Rajah, and one who obeyed every command of the Government. Bring
back, I implore you, an enemy’s head, that your fearless father’s grave
may be honoured with a fragment of it. Obey the orders of the Tuan
Resident; if he forbids you to kill, then come back empty handed rather
than disobey the Prenta. If you are killed, of course I shall wail and
lament for you; but I am old, and shall meet you soon again with your
father in Long Julán, where all brave warriors go who die in battle or
by accident. And you, Batu, [the youngest, about eighteen years old,]
be not headstrong, but follow your brothers and take their advice in
everything.’
[Illustration: A WAR-CANOE, OR A RACING-CANOE, MADE FROM A SINGLE LOG.
IT IS ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY FEET LONG AND HOLDS QUITE EASILY A HUNDRED
MEN.]
Her words were so simple and direct, and, withal, uttered in that soft,
flowing language which I had learned to like so well, that, I confess,
it never entered my mind at the time that her personal appearance was
far from prepossessing. I saw in her only a modern instance of the
Spartan mother, and quite forgot her few and blackened teeth, and her
slit ear-lobes, enormously elongated by her mourning ear-rings of heavy
wood. She sat on the floor half leaning back against the wall, with only
a strip of blue cotton cloth (not immaculate) around her waist, and
covering as far as the knee her thin, wrinkled, and tattooed legs, while
she was addressing her three boys, of whom she was very proud. Her eyes,
dimmed from age and from the daily glare of the sun, rested first on
one, then on another, but most frequently on the youngest, Batu, whose
marriage was to take place as soon as the tattooing on the legs of his
bride was finished. Evidently her mother’s heart feared lest this high
prize of his enamoured hopes, coupled with his youth, might spur him
on to hazard more danger than his brothers. The ardour of the hour was
contagious, and I saw (honesty bids me acknowledge) nothing unnatural or
unmotherly in these prayers to her sons to bring home a freshly severed
head, to hang in consecrated repose above the domestic hearth or on an
honoured father’s grave.
In the veranda, all the bustle and excitement were continued; fresh
recruits kept constantly arriving from neighbouring houses, and from
rice-clearings, where men often pass the night in small huts. Outside,
in front of the house, in the granaries for rice, there was also much
commotion, the commissariat department must not be overlooked; a good
store of rice had to be packed in baskets and bags of a size convenient
for handling. In this work, the youngsters could help, and the sturdy
little chaps, infected with the excitement of their elders, forgot sleep,
and shouted and laughed as they darted here and there, and stumbled in
the dark, carrying the baskets down to the canoes at the river’s edge.