seemed to grow bigger and his jockey cap dirtier every minute. Tama Talip
silently munched betel nut, and squirted the blood-red juice incessantly
through a crack in the floor. Aban Liah was depressed in spirit, and
sat sullenly twisting an extinguished cigarette between his fingers.
We became thoroughly wearied of the whole assemblage, and, unattended,
paddled across the river to a grassy point where we could watch for the
coming of the Kayans, and, at least for awhile, get rid of the natives.
Even this watching became intolerable, and finally we decided to go up
the clear Dapoi River a short distance and take a swim. Of course, this
was the very time through the perversity of luck, that the Kayans decided
to go up to the house, and we, unfortunately, were not on hand. Kilup,
one of Tinggi’s brothers, took it upon himself to be the leader of a
small Jawa party, and did not even wait for Juman to disembark from his
canoe, but ran full speed down to the beach, and with his parang drawn,—a
violation of propriety absolutely forbidden in every well-conducted
Jawa—actually chopped at Juman’s boat and slashed the palm-leaf covering.
They told us afterward that Juman behaved bravely, and sat unmoved
in his boat,—his serenity was possibly due to the knowledge that the
‘snappang,’ albeit with the ‘fever-stricken engine,’ was at his side,
and that, if necessity arose, its discharge would prove fatal to some
one, either to himself or to Kilup. By the time we returned from our
bath the excitement had subsided, but none the less, Tama Aping Buling
remained secluded in the depths of his private apartments. Dr. Hose at
once summoned Kilup before him, and incontinently imposed on him a fine
of one tawak,—equivalent to thirty dollars, a really heavy fine. Kilup
sat unmoved during his sentence, and then arose slowly and swaggered off
to his room, where he was told to remain until sent for, under penalty of
another fine, or, possibly, imprisonment in the Baram Fort.
The Kayans were very naturally greatly incensed at such treatment;
certainly they had a right to expect a little more hospitality after
their dolorous night in the soaking rain.
By way of precaution against too much zeal in the approaching sham fight,
we made the Tinjar people place about half-way down the veranda a high,
square platform, used ordinarily as a sleeping-shelf for guests; this
would tend to keep the two forces apart and check too quick an onslaught.
When this was done, Tama Liri was deputed to go down to the river and
conduct the Kayans to the veranda. It is an inexcusable breach of decorum
for any strangers outside the house, to pass in front of a Chief’s door,
before ascending to the veranda; guests, therefore, from down-river
should enter at the down-river end of the house, and _vice versâ_. Tama
Liri knew this as well as he knew his name; but, solely to stir up more
trouble, he conducted the Kayans who came from down-river to the up-river
end of the house, which involved a direct insult to Tama Aping Buling.
Of course, the Kayans remonstrated, but too late; and then, to retrieve
the insult, had to tramp almost the whole length of the house in the mud
and slime beneath the veranda; this added fresh fuel to the fire already
burning in their breasts.
The Lerons, Sibops, Berawans, and Leppu Anans gathered at the up-river
end of the veranda, to await the entrance of the Kayans, and we placed
ourselves midway, so as to be on hand to moderate, if possible, too
realistic a sham fight.
The Kayans and Kenyahs came quietly up the notched log, and halted
in a close crowd until the last man had fairly entered the veranda.
Standing thus within the house of one who had always been an enemy, and
confronting their deadly foes, it is no wonder that they were trembling
with excitement; their eyes were glancing suspiciously in all directions
to detect any signs of treachery or the sight of concealed weapons.
Suddenly, with one impulse, they began yelling, stamping, waving their
arms, and leaping in the air. Immediately the Tinjar people joined in; in
a second the whole veranda from end to end became a perfect pandemonium
of shrieking, frenzied, gymnastic savages. Not a step did they advance
toward each other, although everywhere there were furious, threatening
gestures.
This appalling scene was kept up for fully a minute, and then the
frightful turbulence gradually quieted down. Dr. Hose at once seized
Juman by the arm and led him, followed by his people, right in among
their bitter enemies; then glancing round quickly to see that no one had
a weapon in hand, instantly proposed that they should all once more jump
and stamp together, and he himself led off with a resounding stamp and
a terrific shout. Juman followed, then another and another, until, in a
trice, once more the house was trembling beneath them, and the rafters
echoing; but this time friends and foes were almost shoulder to shoulder.
The inanity, I think, of the proceeding slowly dawned on them; the
shouting did not last as long as before; it became more and more feeble;
at last it ceased suddenly, and they all sat down. Little by little the
ice of mutual distrust began to thaw; here and there men who had been
mortal foes were sitting cheek by jowl, engaged in friendly conversation.
At this stage, it was the host’s clear duty to bring out his arrack; his
guests might at once have pledged each other, and friendship might have
been cemented; but Tama Aping Buling was in his sleeping-room, probably
buried beneath a pile of mats.
Speeches were made by Jamma, Aban Liah, and Juman, but they lacked
earnestness and cordiality, and, at their conclusion, the pigs whose
livers were to foretell the issue of this Peace-making and the futurity
of the participants, were dragged into the centre of the assembly. As
each one was brought in, it was harangued by the Dayongs, and adjured
to tell the truth and to intercede with the Spirits to drive out all
animosity from the people of the two rivers. The largest pig was reserved
as the ‘Government’s pig,’ and had been selected on account of its size
and beauty, but it did not turn out to be exactly what the Government
would have chosen as its fittest representative. It was an albino, with
lack-lustre, whitish eyes and a pale, mottled snout; it lay so still
that I half expected it was about to cheat the sacrifice by dying a
natural death. Of course, it fell to Dr. Hose’s lot to exhort this pig
_ante mortem_ to proclaim truthfully _post mortem_, by infallible omens
in its liver, whether or not the Government’s course was right; but he
gave the natives clearly to understand that, whatever the omens might
be, they would not in the least influence him in the management of
Government affairs; and that he followed the custom merely to please
them. Thereupon, he prodded the pale-eyed and anæmic pig with his foot,
to arouse its earnest attention, but no responsive grunt nor indignant
squeal came from that cadaverous representative of the Government; it lay
imperturbably still and blinked. As soon as his words ceased, the pig was
dragged to one side, its throat cut, and its liver at once dexterously
extracted. When this organ, which proved to be unusually large, was
passed round among the Chiefs and among those who were skilled in the
interpretation of auguries, it was pronounced with one accord to be in
its every aspect most favourable; but, in an unlucky moment, just as it
was about to be taken away, some one, inquisitively, lifted one of the
lobes to examine the under surface, and instantly a convulsive horror and
shuddering recoil ran through the whole assemblage,—a large, foul abscess
was disclosed!
Once before, on this expedition, had the natives been shocked by a
fateful foreboding of death, and now, for a second time, in yet clearer
terms, had this death-warrant been delivered. On the first occasion, at
Tama Liri’s house, their horrified eyes had noted a deep scar, and now
with inexpressible dismay they beheld a corroding ulcer.
Dr. Hose, in solemn tones, again repeated the true interpretation of
the blood-curdling portent:—_a faithless, scheming Chief_, who was
secretly hostile to the Rajah and to his people, would _very shortly
die a miserable, inevitable death_! Again the liver was passed round
the awe-stricken circle; in vain they summoned their best ingenuity in
suggesting a less dreadful interpretation, but it was only too clear that
Dr. Hose’s words bore every impress of truth.
Old Aban Liah, of whose hostility to the Government there had been such
recent proofs, sat a little outside the circle, and when the liver with
its death-warrant was passed over to him, he waved it aside, and in tones
that reminded me vividly of Shylock, and almost in Shylock’s very words,
said, tremulously, ‘Let me go away; I am not well;’ and then added,
apologetically: ‘the smell of this beastly, warm, raw flesh has made me
ill. I must go.’ And he got up, with dazed looks, and went with uncertain
steps to his room.
An hour or two later, in the evening, some of his friends came and
begged me to go see him. To my surprise, I found him in a high fever
and semi-delirious. I directed them to wrap him up warmly, to produce
a sweat, and advised them to remove him to his own home as soon as
possible. I supposed that he would be all right in the morning, when the
effects of the feasting at his house the day before had passed off. I
never dreamed that his illness would have a fatal termination.
Neither Aban Liah’s sudden illness, nor his absence, interfered with
the Peace-making. Kilup was summoned from his room, and in the presence
of the assembled tribes he was given such a vehement rating by the
Government that he probably remembers it to this hour, and he was
furthermore warned that even threatening language was punishable.
Still no arrack was broached, nor feast spread. At the slightest noise or
excitement, off sped Tama Aping Buling to his room, and there remained
in seclusion until all was again quiet. He had, in truth, more cause
for alarm than the others; his wife, his children, and all the women
of the household were dependent on him for protection in any outbreak
of hostility; his guests had to look but after their own safety; these
guests were now peaceable, but in a flash they might become mortal foes
in deadly conflict.
Old Jamma was always to the fore, talking incessantly and making effusive
attempts to ingratiate himself with everybody; but if all present
shared my feelings, his thick, everted lips, and eyes distorted behind
those prodigious goggles, would have checked every throb of sympathy.
Furthermore, he had unaccountably changed his jockey cap for a war-cap
of Tiger skin, with which he fairly terrified the Kayans. A skin of the
great tiger is something so terrible to many of the natives that they
dare not even touch it; an oath bound by a tiger’s tooth or tiger’s skin
is one of their most solemn pledges. The Kenyahs and Sibops are the only
tribes who may touch a Tiger’s skin with impunity.
It was not until afternoon had deepened into night that the feast and the
arrack were brought out. The roar that went up when Juman drained the
first cup could have been heard certainly for a mile, and the stamping
was stupendous. In fact, under the weight of the three hundred jumping
men, the floor sagged fully six inches, and the huge piles, whereon
the house was built, swerved and sank deeper into the earth. Thus it
went on, one toast after another, and roar upon roar; then they made
speeches fervid with alcohol. Jamma talked rank, open treason when his
tongue was loosened, and claimed the whole Tinjar River as a direct
inheritance from his Uncle, Aban Jau; the Rajah had no right to be there,
and the Government obstructed instead of helped the people. Very little
attention, however, was paid to him, either by the assemblage, or by
Dr. Hose, a neglect which cut him deeply; he ached to be of sufficient
importance to receive a rebuke from the Government, but Dr. Hose merely
replied, ‘We must all bear in mind the source whence these silly remarks
come; I think you’ll all agree that they are not of the slightest
consequence.’
The drinking, the stamping, and the shouting were kept up throughout
the night, and, to our great content, the Kayan guests behaved well and
restrained themselves within bounds. Jamma and his clan were the only
flagrant offenders, talking treason and indulging in threats.
A smell of fermented arrack, stale fumes of rank tobacco, maudlin gabble
from drunken men, the snarling and yelping of dogs, the clucking and
cackling of poultry, the wailing of children, and the crying of babies,
pervaded the world into which we awoke in Tama Aping Buling’s house the
morning after the great Peace-making carouse.
Suddenly, above all sounds, arose repeated, piercing shrieks from
terror-stricken women, excited shouting of men, slamming of doors, and
the clatter of bare feet fleeing over the loose, rattling boards of the
veranda. The master of the house flung himself, trembling, into our room
and breathlessly announced that one of his men, overcome by the night’s
debauch, had gone ‘amok’—as he said,—and, armed with parang and shield,
had sworn to hack in pieces all whom he met; he was now rushing from room
to room slashing right and left at the terrified and fugitive inmates.
Two or three brave men had climbed to the loft above the partitions
between the private rooms, and, with poles, were trying to beat down and
disarm the maniac and lasso him with loops of rattan.
A man who runs amok both expects and desires to be killed, but endeavors
to slaughter beforehand as many victims as possible. Dr. Hose caught
up a long and heavy pestle used for husking rice, and we all hurried
out in the veranda, armed with our revolvers, to assist in the capture
of this most dangerous ruffian; and, since he desired to be killed, we
were quite ready to gratify him. Just as we came opposite the room from
which the maniac had driven the occupants, frantic with terror, the man
himself rushed forth directly in front of Dr. Hose, but the latter was
ready for him with a greeting which was as well-directed and cordial
as it was unexpected. By one waive of the long pestle, his shield was
instantly thrust aside, and there followed a disconcerting and most
demoralising prod full in the pit of the stomach. All his valiant ‘amok’
collapsed, and, with eyes rolling in his head, he staggered back through
the doorway and plumped down, with a flop, on the floor. Instantly the
men overhead, with their rattan loops, had him encircled round the waist,
and a vigorous pull suspended him in mid-air from a cross-beam; with
their poles they knocked the weapons from his hands, and then, like a
spider with a fly, they had him quickly swathed with rattans and bound
hand and foot. The next thing was to take him to his own room, and leave
him thus confined until he had recovered his senses. But while they were
carrying him thither, the ever-officious, and withal treacherous, Jamma,
staggered impetuously forward, and, vehemently insisting that the maniac
should be set free, actually began to grapple with the carriers. In a
twinkling, his wrist was seized by Dr. Hose, and he was whirled round;
then, after executing an astonishing and dizzy pirouette, he lost his
balance and went skimming along the floor, until, with a reverberating
thump, his head struck the wall, and he lay motionless. Some friends ran
to him and propped him up. He made no attempt to rise, but only blinked
his bloodshot eyes, denuded for once of the goggles, and kept gasping,
panting forth: ‘Why did the Government strike me? Why did the Government
strike me?’ Finding his question unanswered, he lapsed into silence, and
put in practice the ingenious idea of feigning death, wherein he was much
helped by a sudden rush of alcoholic fumes to his head. His nephew and a
few devoted friends lost not an instant’s time in laying out the corpse,
and, seated beside the limp body, immediately struck up a funeral wail
over his sad, untimely demise. It really seemed possible that the man
might be dead, so, at Dr. Hose’s request, I examined him, but no trace of
injury could I find on the corpse but a severe, darkly coloured bruise
on its forehead; when, however, this bruise was bathed with arnica, I
noticed that it wholly disappeared, and the discoloration was transferred
to the absorbent cotton, and that the skin presented an unbroken surface.
When I attempted to examine his eyes, the wrinkled resistance of the lids
showed me his inflexible determination to remain dead.
Disgusted with the whole household, we had our luggage incontinently
carried down to the boats; then, after speeding the Kayans and Kenyahs,
now in a benign and peaceful mood, on their homeward journey, the Great,
Historic, Ceremonial Peace-making came to an end. It had been a veritable
and a notable success throughout; old scores had been settled by exchange
of Usut and by the Jawa, and return visits had been planned; barring Aban
Liah’s antagonism and illness, Kilup’s bad behavior, and the incident
with Jamma just related, everything had gone off more smoothly than
we had any reason to expect, considering the undisciplined, grown-up
children with whom we had to deal. We were, nevertheless, truly glad to
be rid of the responsibility of a party so large, and of material so
inflammable.
We decided to continue our journey, and ascend the Dapoi River, to
visit some Punans,—a nomadic tribe, who had recently encamped near the
head-waters of the stream.
Just as we were pushing off in our canoe, a wild figure, with arms
waving, and face distorted with malignant rage, dashed down the log-walk
to the beach; there it turned and faced the house. It was Jamma, the
corpse. Snatching off his war-cap of Tiger skin, he waved it, backward
and forward above his head with frantic gestures, toward the house. We
did not care to wait for the upshot of these remarkable antics, but
pursued our tranquil course up the Dapoi, inhaling peace and repose
beneath the over-arching boughs festooned with ferns and orchids.
[Illustration: SIBOP WOMEN AT THE HOUSE OF TAMA BALAN DENG.]
Late in the afternoon, we landed at the house of Tama Balan Deng, a Sibop
Chief, who received us kindly, and most hospitably gave up to us his own
room, wherein throughout every minute of the entire night we were the
objects of awestruck curiosity to his whole household, the larger part
of whom had never before seen a white man; they sat immovably huddled
together at one side of the room, and were the last objects that we
saw on going to sleep, and when we awoke at dawn they were noiselessly
creeping away.
Early in the day, to our surprise, Tama Aping Buling arrived in his
canoe, in a state of painful excitement over Jamma’s conduct of the day
before, whose antics were now explained. As soon as we had left, the
old rascal, tired of being a corpse, fell into a violent rage with the
universe, and had stormed down to the beach, and there had cursed with
his awful Tiger skin cap every bit of timber in the house, together with
all its inmates, big and little, old and young, and all the Kayans, root
and branch, who had been in it, and ended up with the white men who had
half-killed him. The house, as I said above, had just been built, at a
cost of infinite labor and great expense; but after such a blood-curdling
curse had been launched at it, to Tama Aping Buling’s superstitious mind,
the domicile was for ever banned and ruined. The object of the poor
fellow’s hurried visit was to ask Dr. Hose if he did not think it best
that the whole structure should be immediately destroyed; it took much
serious argument from Dr. Hose to dissuade the disconsolate Tama Aping
from the determination to empty his house of all movables and then set
fire to it.
This account of Jamma’s malevolence did not exhaust Tama Aping’s budget.
He brought the latest news of Aban Liah, whom we had last seen stricken
down by the dreadful omen in the pig’s liver. The most skilful Dayongs
had been summoned to keep the soul of the old Berawan Chief from wholly
deserting his body, and, at last reports, they had grave doubts as to
their success in finding whither it had temporarily flown, unless several
additional parang blades and three or four more bolts of cloth were given
to them, wherewith they could bribe the Spirits who were luring far away
the soul of Aban Liah; they were sorely afraid that, in spite of all
their exertions, the soul would evade them and slip off to Bulun Matai.
We despatched the necessary spiritual bribes, and then continued our
journey to the home of the Punans.
Four days afterward, when we left the Dapoi and again turned into the
Tinjar, we stopped at the scene of the Great Peace making, and there we
learned the end of Aban Liah’s tragic story. The fate foretold so clearly
by the liver of the Government’s albino pig had been fulfilled. The
conscience-stricken soul of the faithless Aban Liah had, indeed, departed
to the Fields of the Dead. From the moment that he saw that ulcerous
liver, and realized its plain indication to himself he sickened, became
delirious, and within forty-eight hours was dead!
There happened to be in one of the boats of our party an old woman, a
distant relative of Aban Liah, and when the news of his death was first
shouted to us from a boat which we met on the river, this old creature
withdrew a short distance from the bank, and, squatting down on the
sand, proceeded to emit a solo of heart-rending wails for the dead,
rehearsing his good qualities in a jerky and descending chromatic scale,
beginning at high C and ending when her breath gave out; then, after a
deep inspiration, the wailing strain was resumed. All the while she was
glancing around to see the effect it had upon us, and also to see what
was going on up and down the river while she was busy in sorrowing for
the defunct; she knew, quite as well as we, what a thorough-paced old
rascal he was, and how far better it was for all his household that he
was dead and out of the way. When she had reeled off a due amount of
profound sorrow, she re-embarked, and was as chatty and gay as possible
until we reached the dead Chief’s house; there it behooved her to roar
again for appearance’s sake. We went up to the house of mourning to pay
our respects to the household and be witness to their grief. At the
hour of our arrival, there happened to be a lull in the wailing, but
the appearance of visitors of such august importance at once demanded a
resumption, not only of gong-beating, but also of the recitation of the
estimable, noble character of the departed. The obtrusive old Jamma was
again to the fore, all animosity forgotten in his eagerness to display
his extreme grief; out of respect for the dead he had discarded his
jockey cap and goggles. Several other Chiefs from neighbouring houses and
ourselves were led to places of honor in front of the bier, whereon lay
Aban Liah, sealed up in a coffin hewn out of Durian wood. The bier was
draped with some cotton cloth, which we recognized as that which we had
sent as a bribe to the Spirits, and on posts at the four corners were
hung the Chief’s most valuable beads, his parang, shield, and spear,
and a number of musical instruments; it was expected that he would hold
a high position among the minstrels and warriors in Bulun Matai. As soon
as the chief men had conducted us to our places, they squatted beside us,
and, covering their faces with their hands to hide the scalding tears
that did not flow, they began to moan and groan in a style which was,
perhaps, quite as symbolical to them of true sorrow as black crape and
nodding plumes are to us.