flattening the foreheads of female children; the practice is begun about
the fifteenth day after birth, and continues for several months, until
the bones of the skull begin to harden. The process is as follows:—On the
forehead of the child a small padded board is held in place by means of
cords, which pass through its ends and are attached to a band of cloth
which passes round the back of the child’s head. On the upper surface
of the board the cords pass through a perforated coin, one from above
downward and the other from below upward, so that by turning the coin
the cords are twisted and the band shortened. By this means the pressure
is exerted regularly by just so many turns of the coin each day. The
compression is applied only during sleep, and, unless very carefully
done, there is danger lest under too great pressure the skull be forced
apart at the fontanelles. The Malanaus maintain that a forehead thus
flattened imparts to the face a very beautiful and mild expression.
Inasmuch as this compression is restricted to very early infancy, I am
inclined to think that the skull resumes its shape. I did not observe any
deformity of the foreheads in adults or even in the young girls.
[Illustration: MALANAU HEAD-COMPRESSION.
THE PADDED BOARD WHICH IS BOUND ON THE CHILD’S HEAD IS KEPT IN PLACE
ONLY WHILE THE CHILD IS ASLEEP OR LYING QUIETLY IN ITS MOTHER’S LAP.
THE PRESSURE EXERTED BY TWISTING THE CORD RUNNING OVER THE HEAD-BOARD
IS NEVER VERY SEVERE, AND THE FLATTENING OF THE FOREHEAD IS BARELY
PERCEPTIBLE IN AN ADULT.
THE OPEN BOX, CONTAINING FOUR SMALLER BOXES, IS THE ‘BETEL’ BOX, WHEREIN
ARE KEPT LIME, WILD PEPPER LEAVES, GAMBIER, TOBACCO, CLOVES, AND BETEL
NUTS, ALL NECESSARY ADJUVANTS TO THE CHEWING OF BETEL, A PRACTICE TO
WHICH THE MALANAUS ARE ALMOST UNIVERSALLY ADDICTED.]
None of the tribes mutilates the nose either with rings or sticks
through the septum, or with studs through the alæ. Nor do they ornament
themselves with scars, except as practised by the boys to show their
fortitude. In this display of valour, they have adopted a species of
moxa,—small pieces of tinder are placed along the forearm, set on fire,
and allowed to burn out undisturbed by any sign whatever of pain. The
straight line of scars bears an enduring testimony to the fortitude of
the youth, and is infinitely precious in the eyes and to the heart of his
dusky love.
What with browless and lashless eyes, inky teeth, brass plugs, looped
ears, and blue legs, I am afraid I have given but a sorry picture of
those whom I would fain have my readers regard with as much kindliness
as my memory now holds for the originals. These freaks of fashion are,
however, merely external; underneath I found honesty, hospitality,
gentleness, and a child-like simplicity. The Kayans and Kenyans harmonise
with their surroundings. The very word ‘jungle’ possesses an indefinable
charm,—it is full of gay, exuberant life in insect and flower; but in its
depth, side by side with these, lurks swift death. Deep seated in the
heart of the joyous, child-like Borneans there reigns in their bosoms,
true to their jungle home, an inextinguishable yearning for a head not
their own. Nevertheless, I like them.
_PERMANTONG, OR LALI_
_A BORNEAN SPECIES OF TABOO_
During the days devoted to search for omens in reference to the sites
of the rice-fields, and also again in reference to the planting, the
Kayans refrain from their usual daily occupations, and neither leave
their houses themselves nor allow strangers to enter. These days of
seclusion are termed ‘Permantong Padi,’ or ‘Lali Padi,’ and correspond
very closely to taboo elsewhere. Permantong is the word among the
Kayans in the Baram district in the northwest of the island; but among
the Kayans in the valley of the Kapuas River, in Dutch Borneo, it is
‘Pantang;’ both these forms are possibly derived from the Malay word
‘Hantu,’—a Demon or evil Spirit,—with the prefix _per_ and the affix
_an_, both used to form derivative substantives; thus the Malay word in
full would be ‘per-hantu-an,’ meaning _possessed by Spirits_, or, more
freely, _bewitched_. ‘Lali’ is probably a pure Kayan word; its derivation
I do not know. Between it and permantong I could discover no shade of
difference in meaning.
The work of clearing off the jungle is tedious in the extreme, and, if
after all the heavy labour, the crops should fail or be destroyed by
monkeys, or by birds, or by a beetle called ‘pangau,’ or by blight, the
whole household in their discouragement become convinced that they have
committed some act to incur the displeasure of the Spirits; therefore,
before this arduous work is begun, it is of prime importance to ascertain
the exact temper of the Spirits, by observing the actions of certain
birds, mammals, and reptiles, all of which are known to the Kayans as
‘Amau,’ and are supposed to be in the confidence of the unseen Powers.
It needs but a close observation of bird, beast, and snake to detect the
supernal favourable or unfavourable dispositions.
The experienced husbandmen of the household usually select a patch of
jungle, which in their opinion will make a good rice-field if the Spirits
be favourable; then each family does its share in clearing off the
undergrowth.
[Illustration: IBANS FELLING A BUTTRESS TREE.
A TREE’S WIDE-SPREADING, BUTTRESS-LIKE ENLARGEMENTS AT THE FOOT
NECESSITATE THE BUILDING OF A SCAFFOLD, WHEREFROM, IN THE FELLING, THE
TRUNK MAY BE CUT THROUGH AT ITS SMALLEST DIAMETER. WHEN A TRACT OF JUNGLE
IS TO BE FELLED. THE LARGEST TREES ARE CUT PARTLY THROUGH AND LEFT
STANDING, SUPPORTED ONLY BY THE TREES AND BY THE INTERLACING VINES ROUND
ABOUT; THE LARGEST TREES ON THE CONFINES OF THE TRACT ARE THEN FELLED,
AND IN THEIR FALL START ALL THE OTHERS, AND, WITH A SOUND AS OF THUNDER,
THE JUNGLE IS PROSTRATED.]
During this preliminary stage, when the labour is not as severe as
when heavy trees must be felled, the household is not as yet lali;
nevertheless, every individual looks out most anxiously for any evil
omens. If, on the way to the clearing, a snake called ‘Nipa matei ekoh’
(_Dead-tailed snake_) is encountered, which has a brilliant red head
and a red-tipped tail, or should any one see a deer called ‘Tela-au’
(_Cervulus muntjac_), or a Civet cat (_Arctogale leucotis_) called
‘Munin,’ or a Rain bird called by the Kayans ‘Pajan,’ and by the Kenyahs
‘Talajan’ (_Platylophus coronatus_), they will relinquish the site, and,
regardless of the work already done, abandon the place for ever. These
four animals are most unfavourable omens when seen near the clearing, and
wilfully to disregard their warnings, even at this early stage, not only
compromises the abundance and quality of the crops, but also the health,
or even the life, of the whole household. Should a man hear a downright
warning and yet pay no attention to it, it is natural enough that during
the ensuing year he should attribute to this disregard, whatever bad luck
or even slight accident might befall him. If on the third day of work on
the clearing, the whistle of the Talajan bird is heard near by, the omen
is favourable; up to this time it is ill-omened, but now it indicates
that the crops will be enormous, and that the rice-houses or granaries
must be made of hard, enduring wood, to stand the weight of the rice
harvest.
If, during three days, no evil omens have been observed, there is
sufficient encouragement therein to proceed to the next stage of felling
the heavy timber, and to incite the entire household to co-operate in the
search for further requisite auguries.
All the families remain secluded in the long veranda, or in their small
private rooms, and sit all day long quite still, smoking and talking; not
a soul is allowed to leave the house, or, at most, to go further than
the bank of the river, except two men designated as the ‘Laki-Niho,’
(_Hawk-men_,) whose duty it is to look for a hawk, called ‘Niho.’
While these Hawk-men are engaged in this search, no one must call them
by their true names; even an accidental infringement of this rule is
punished by a fine of a few beads, or of a coarse china plate. It is the
custom of some households for the Laki-Niho not to return to the house
during the whole three days’ search for omens; at such times they build
in the jungle, near the clearing, a small hut, which they indicate to be
permantong, by putting up beside it two poles, called ‘ponkut,’ whereon
the bark is stripped into bunches of shavings at intervals down the pole.
While living in this hut, members of their own household may communicate
with them, if urgent necessity arises, but with strangers, who ought to
know from the ponkut, the serious nature of the permantong, they will
hold no communication whatever.
Should the hawk be seen on the first day of the search, but not on
the two succeeding days, it is unfavourable; nevertheless, they would
continue the preparation of the soil, with the expectation, however, of
poor crops, which, if from no other cause, would be sure to follow the
half-heartedness with which people work when discouraged at the very
outset.
On the second day the search is kept up, and if the hawk be now seen, it
is favourable, but not completely favourable; if they returned to the
house, they would not probably refer to it, lest their chances for the
morrow be thereby jeopardised. But should they fail to catch sight of the
hawk on the third day, they would accept the omen of the second day, and
be fairly well content; the search must be continued, however, until the
last chance of the most favourable of omens is gone.
If on the third day’s search, the hawk is again observed, the omen of
the second day is rejected, and the omen of the third day is the only
one accepted. A small pile of chips is at once set on fire, to inform
the hawk, that a blessing is expected on their crops, and the Laki-Niho
hurry back to the house to spread the good news. Every one in the house
now lights a cigarette or waves a fire-brand, whereby a blessing is
invoked on his or her particular rice-farm, and all eagerly watch for
the hawk, to see whether or not he sails around without flapping his
wings. Should he sail away out of sight without once flapping his wings
all are delighted; it means that the clearing of the jungle may now
continue prosperously, and that neither attack of enemies nor accident to
the workers need be feared. Should the hawk flap his wings, it follows
that some men, in felling the jungle, will be badly cut by their axes
or perhaps crushed under falling trees. All instantly avert their eyes
from the flapping hawk, lest the bird should recognise them in the fields
and select them as victims. After they have made their wishes known to
the hawk by means of the fire, there is a respite of a day or two in the
permantong, and the people are allowed to go out of doors.
[Illustration: FIELD OF HILL RICE, CLEARED AND PLANTED BY IBANS IN THE
BARAM DISTRICT.]
After this short respite, the same two Laki-Niho again set out, this
time in search of the Talajan bird; and again the people are housed.
This search lasts three days also, and on the third day, if successful,
they perform the same rite as before with fire and smoke. Next follows
a three days’ lookout for the Tela-au deer, which must be not only seen
but heard; if it dart off the minute it is seen, without giving its gruff
bark, it foretells a misfortune, but to an individual merely, not to the
whole household; consequently, but very little attention comparatively is
paid to it.
The tedious formalities are now nearly over, and there remain but
two more animals to be observed, namely, the Munin and the Makong,
(_Berenicornis comatus_, the white-headed Horn-bill;) these two, also,
must utter some sound to show whether or not they are favourable. These
are all the omens that must be consulted before the heavy timber can
be felled and the rice planted. During each period of three days, all
members of the household must remain within the house.
When the felled jungle is become dry, it is burned over, and as soon as
the ground is cool they dibble in the grain. From the hour when the real
labour of felling the jungle begins, until the seed-planting is finished,
no stranger is allowed to enter the house or field; should inadvertence
or necessity bring a neighbor within the lali district, he must pay a
small offering to atone for the trespass. This offering is known as
‘Usut,’ and is ordinarily a few beads or something of iron, such as a
spear-head, or an old knife. The usut is placed in a basket and hung up
in the rice-field until it rusts away or disappears. To see that this
usut is properly paid, is the duty of the women, who call the custom ‘Toh
Lali,’ or Lali of the Spirits. (Once, when on our way down the river from
Tama Bulan’s, we stopped at a house, and, finding no one about, walked
boldly up the bank, whereupon the head-man hurried down to meet us, and
demanded, with considerable persistence, that we should give him a
knife. Thinking he was hinting at a present, I searched in the canoe for
one of my good hunting-knives. On receiving it, he incontinently thrust
it into a basket and sent it off to the rice-fields to be hung up and
to rust away. An old table-knife or any bit of old iron would have done
as well, but my ignorance cost me a valuable knife, which I am sure was
wasted on the Toh.)
The crop is now fairly started. The heaviest part of the task of keeping
down the weeds falls to the women, who rise with the sun, and, as soon as
the household is fairly awake, start off in rain or shine for the fields,
in parties of six or eight, armed with their little, short-handled,
lop-sided hoes. Usually they do not eat until they arrive at the scene of
their labours; sometimes they halt at a pebbly ‘karangan,’ where dry wood
is plenty, and there break their fast, but do not eat again until they
return to the house in the evening.
Shortly before the rice is cut, a basket containing pieces of wood,
roots, leaves, and strings of beads is carried to the field and left
there for three days. This basket of offerings, or charms for the crop,
is called the ‘Tigga,’ and after the rice is cut the basket and its
contents are placed either on a shelf in the granaries or else on the
platform just outside the door.
During the harvesting of the ‘Parai Agit,’ a small patch of rice planted
first, and always harvested first, there is a lali of four days, known
as the ‘Lamali Parai,’ (lali of the pregnant rice.) Of the Parai Agit no
woman must eat; if she does eat of this rice, she will go mad. Reiterated
questionings failed to disclose the origin of this belief, and even the
reason for planting the Parai Agit itself.
When the rice is all harvested, the household is lali to strangers, and
for eight days no one can go off on any expedition nor return to the
house from an expedition. No sooner does this lali end, than another
begins, while the rice is being stored in the granaries. But as soon
as this harvesting is over, a general feast is prepared, and merriment
of all sorts makes up for the weariness of the long day’s work. The
women don every stitch of their finery and every bead to their name;
some even assume men’s clothes, and carry shield, spear, and parang.
In the evening, all join in a long procession round the house; guests
are invited to participate in the festivities, and ‘jest and youthful
jollity’ rule the hour; the brimming cup passes freely, and to the
harmonious strains of the kaluri the women ‘trip it as they go,’ or
leap in war-dances, in imitation of the men. As a half apology for all
this ‘heart-easing mirth,’ they told me that this harvest at least was
theirs,—they might not live to see another.
[Illustration: IBAN CAMPHOR-COLLECTORS SPLITTING UP A CAMPHOR TREE IN
SEARCH OF CRYSTALS.
WHEN ALL THE OMENS HAVE BEEN AUSPICIOUS, THE CAMPHOR TREE IS FELLED AND
THEN, DECKED OUT IN THEIR FINEST WAR CLOTHES, THE COLLECTORS EXAMINE WITH
MINUTEST CARE EVERY CRACK AND CREVICE IN THE TRUNK OF THE TREE WHERE
THE CRYSTALS MIGHT LURK. THERE IS NO PRODUCT OF THE JUNGLE ABOUT WHICH
THERE IS SO MUCH MYSTERY AS ABOUT CAMPHOR, AND WHILE SEARCHING FOR IT THE
COLLECTORS ARE HEDGED IN AT EVERY TURN BY PERMANTONG OR TABOO, AND MUST
TALK IN A LANGUAGE USED ONLY DURING QUESTS FOR THE ELUSIVE CRYSTALS.]
After this festival there follows another lali, known as the ‘Lali
Neboko;’ it lasts for ten long days, and is apparently devoted by the
women to the resumption of their proper sphere and duties; they make
all sorts of cakes out of the new rice, and vie with each other in
devising toothsome dishes for their lovers and husbands. During all this
lali, no one is permitted to do a stroke of any work that resembles the
cultivation of rice; a parang or a billiong, or any tool used in felling
the jungle, is a strictly lali article; should any restless creature
express a desire for active work, he is scoffed at and scorned as a
spoil-sport and kill-joy.
During the Permantong Padi, the large wooden mortars, wherein the rice
is husked, are enclosed in bamboo railings, to prevent human beings,
and dogs also, from touching them. The store of rice will last but a
short time should these mortars be touched by any hands other than those
whose duty it is to use them. If a dog in search of food, or of a place
to sleep, crawl into one of them, he is straightway caught, and his
hair rubbed the wrong way with a cord, which they call a ‘Tali Gamai.’
During this rubbing, the owner of the mortar exorcises the evil Spirit
by saying: ‘I stroke this dog thus, because I do not wish my food to
disappear on account of this dog. Let my food last until the next year’s
crop. One! Two! Three! Four!’ The dog is sure to die, so they say, very
soon after this ceremony. These large mortars are fastened to the floor,
and when not in use are often used as seats, except during the Permantong
Padi, when even the deep hollow in the centre is plugged up, to keep the
dogs, which no railing can exclude, from licking it in their search for
remnants of rice.
Besides the Permantong Padi, there are many minor permantongs in the
daily life of the Kayans; for instance, in a Kayan house it is permantong
to whistle after dark. To play the kaluri, or the nose-flute, is
allowable, even though thereby the same sound as whistling is produced;
whistling summons evil Spirits, and is sure to bring mischief into the
house. Some Ibans aver that in old times it was strictly against all rule
ever to whistle in the house, even in the daytime.
It is permantong, or lali, for a member of a dead man’s household to
give anything to be used in laying out the corpse; cloth or other things
necessary for such purposes may be obtained from any other than a member
of the same house. When in need of such things, the relatives and friends
should ask for them when the patient is moribund, and not after death has
put a seal on his lips, preventing him from making the request himself.
When the corpse has been laid out for several days, no one, whether a
member of the household or not, is willing to sell or give any thing to
be placed upon the corpse; it may be placed, however, close by the corpse
with perfect propriety, together with cigarettes, which carry messages to
dead friends. Dr. Hose told me that on one occasion, while he was talking
to Tama Bulan, in his long-house on the Pata River, a message was brought
to the Chief from a very sick man, with the request for enough white
cloth to make a ‘Bah’ or waist-cloth, wherein to die. Tama Bulan asked
whether the message came from the man himself or from his relatives, and
showed no inclination to give the cloth until he learned that the man
was still alive; then he very willingly produced the number of fathoms
desired. He explained afterward, that had the man been dead, and the
request come from the relatives, he would not have given the Bah. Had he
given it under these circumstances, it would have angered the Spirits,
and they would have claimed the giver as the next victim.
When a man is sick and likely to die, no one in the house is allowed to
open boxes, or any receptacles whatever, at night, except it be the small
tobacco boxes of bamboo which all carry, or the ordinary baskets wherein
they keep the sleeping-mats; breach of this law brings death into the
room in which the offence was committed.
[Illustration: PUNAN CAMPHOR-COLLECTORS.
PUNANS TESTING THE PRODUCTIVENESS OF A CAMPHOR TREE BY SMELLING THE CHIPS
CUT FROM THE TRUNK ABOUT TEN FEET FROM THE GROUND. EXPERT COLLECTORS
CAN TELL BY THE STRENGTH OF THE ODOR WHETHER OR NOT THE TREE IS RICH IN
CRYSTALS.]
It is lali to cook inside the house the flesh of deer, buffalo, wild
cattle, tiger-cats, many of the smaller mammals, and the large lizard
(_Veranus_,—sometimes as much as six feet long,) and only old and proved
warriors may eat the flesh of deer; the timid disposition of the animal
enters the souls of youths who are rash enough to eat of it.
Very similar to the search for omens in reference to the rice-fields is
the observation of omens preliminary to the search for camphor crystals,
(which are found in a tree known to botanists as the _Dryobalanops
Camphora_.) Before setting out for the depths of the jungle where the
camphor trees grow, the Kayans first look for a bird known to them as
‘Isit’—a Spider hunter, (_Arachnothera longirostris_ or _Anthreptes
malaccencis_,) and should it be seen flying across their path, from right
to left, the omen is not good, there will be poor luck in their search;
if it be seen flying in the opposite way, there will be good luck. After
they have seen the Spider hunter, they must next look for the common Red
Hawk, whose flight must be also from left to right; if its flight be
from right to left, their search will be fruitless, or else some heavy
calamity will happen to them, and they had far better return home at
once. When both these Omen bearers have been seen flying favourably, the
Pajan, or Rain Bird, and the Tela-au, or Barking Deer, must be either
seen or heard on the right-hand side of the trail; but even when all
these omens have been favourably observed, the camphor searchers are not
yet free to pursue their quest. For a final omen, they seek for a certain
snake, ‘Batang limu,’ (_Simotes octolineatus_,) and the most strenuous
efforts must be made to kill it; should it escape, they may as well
return home; they will find no camphor, even though all the other omens
have been auspicious.
As soon as they have decided upon the tributary stream, near whose
banks they are to direct their search, a rattan is stretched across its
mouth, as Jamma explained to me, and as is set forth on page 115 above;
on this rattan are hung wooden images and models of parangs, billiongs,
spears, and the wooden wedges used in splitting up the trunks of the
felled camphor trees; this gives notice to other camphor hunters, or
to passing strangers, that the stream is closed and all trespassing
forbidden. When they have selected the camphor tree, which they intend
to cut down, they build their hut near it, and then, after the first
strokes of the axe, if they hear the note of an Omen bird, they give
up work for the rest of the day, and sit idle in their hut. But if all
omens are favourable, and they find that the tree is likely to prove
rich in camphor, they plant near their hut a stake, whereof the outer
surface has been cut into curled shavings and tufts down the sides and
at the top. (I suggest as possible that these shavings represent the
curling tongues of flame which communicate with the unseen Powers.) When
the Kayans are collecting camphor, they are under no restrictions as
to food, nor are they forbidden to speak to people whom they may meet,
although they will not allow strangers to enter their hut. With many
other tribes, all communication with strangers is strictly forbidden; the
Sibops, for instance, when asked, by people whom they meet, the usual
question:—‘Where are you going?’ maintain a stony silence.
When the camphor tree has been felled, the trunk is cut into small
pieces, and during this process the searchers are clad in their most
showy war-clothes and armed with parang and spear. It is in the crevices
of the fibre of the wood that the crystals are found, (a peculiarity
of the Borneo camphor,) and the searchers seem to regard the tree as a
fallen foe, who can be made to yield his hidden treasure only at the
point of sword and spear.
The search for the crystals is tedious work; each piece of wood must be
split with the greatest care and examined with minuteness. No camphor is
found beyond twenty feet from the root, and trees productive of camphor
crystals are always hollow; it is, therefore, probable that no crystals
are found unless the tree has been in some way injured. Besides the
crystals, there is always an abundance of oil, useful as an embrocation;
and there is also usually a quantity of soft camphor, called ‘Kapor
Bata,’ not yet crystallised; yellow, resinous crystals are of no value.
The blossoms of the tree have a strong smell of camphor, and near its
roots is usually found a peculiar luminous fungus.