Magic Rites connected with the Several Departments of Nature
(a) Air
1. WIND AND WEATHER CHARMS
Not the least important attribute of the Malay magician in former
days was his power of controlling the weather--a power of which Malay
magic incantations still preserve remarkable traces.
Thus when the wind fails and the sails of a boat are flapping (kalau
layer k'lepek-k'lepek), a Selangor magician would not unfrequently
summon the wind in the following terms:--
"Come hither, Sir, come hither, my Lord,
Let down your locks so long and flowing."
And if the wind is contrary he would say:--
"Veer round, Wind, a needle or twain (of the compass),
A needle to (let me) fetch Kapar. [212]
However heavy the merchandise that I carry unassisted,
Let me repair to Klang for the (morning) meal,
And Langat for the (evening) bathe.
Come hither, Sir, come hither, my Lord,
And let down your locks so long and flowing."
Again, if the wind grew violent he would say:--
"Eggs of the House-lizard, Eggs of the Grass-lizard,
Make a trio with Eggs of the Tortoise.
I plant this pole thus in the mid-stream
(That) Wind and Tempest may come to naught.
Let the White (ones) turn into Chalk,
And the Black (one) into Charcoal. [213]
Sometimes the magician will fasten a rice-spoon (chemcha) [214]
horizontally to the mast of the vessel, and repeat some such charm
as the following:--
"The bird 'Anggau-anggau' flies
To perch on the house of Malim Palita.
May you die as you lean, may you die from a push,
May you die by this 'sending' of 'Prince Rice-spoon's.'" [215]
Of rain-making ceremonies in Selangor there now remains little but
tradition. Yet a Langat Malay told me that if a Malay woman puts
upon her head an inverted [216] earthenware pan (b'langa), and then,
setting it upon the ground, fills it with water and washes the cat
in it until the latter is more than half drowned, heavy rain will
certainly ensue. [217]
On the other hand the recital of the following charm will, it is
believed, effectually stop the heaviest downpour:--
"Though the stem of the Meranti tree [218] rocks to and fro
(in the storm),
Let the Yam leaves be as thick as possible, [219]
That Rain and Tempest may come to naught."
With the foregoing should be classed such charms as are used by the
Malays to dispel the yellow sunset glow. [220]
2. BIRDS AND BIRD CHARMS
The chief features of the Bird-lore of the Peninsular Malays, which,
as will appear in the course of this chapter, is strongly tinged with
animism, have been thus described by Sir William Maxwell:--
"Ideas of various characters are associated by Malays with birds of
different kinds, and many of their favourite similes are furnished by
the feathered world. The peacock strutting in the jungle, the argus
pheasant calling on the mountain peak, the hoot of the owl, and the
cry of the night-jar, have all suggested comparisons of various kinds,
which are embodied in the proverbs of the people. [221] The Malay
is a keen observer of nature, and his illustrations, drawn from such
sources, are generally just and often poetical.
"The supernatural bird Gerda (Garuda, the eagle of Vishnu), who
figures frequently in Malay romances, is dimly known to the Malay
peasant. If, during the day, the sun is suddenly overcast by clouds
and shadow succeeds to brilliancy, the Pêrak Malay will say "Gerda is
spreading out his wings to dry." [222] Tales are told, too, of other
fabulous birds [223]--the jintayu, which is never seen, though its
note is heard, and which announces the approach of rain; [224] and the
chandrawasi, which has no feet. The chandrawasi lives in the air, and
is constantly on the wing, never descending to earth or alighting on
a tree. Its young even are produced without the necessity of touching
the earth. The egg is allowed to drop, and as it nears the earth it
bursts, and the young bird appears fully developed. The note of the
chandrawasi may often be heard at night, but never by day, and it is
lucky, say the Malays, to halt at a spot where it is heard calling.
"There is an allusion to this bird in a common pantun--a kind of
erotic stanza very popular among the Malays:--
"Chandrawasi burong sakti,
Sangat berkurong didalam awan.
Gonda gulana didalam hati,
Sahari tidak memandang tuan. [225]
"Nocturnal birds are generally considered ill-omened all over the
world, and popular superstition among the Malays fosters a prejudice
against one species of owl. If it happens to alight and hoot near
a house, the inhabitants say significantly that there will soon be
'tearing of cloth' (koyah kapan) for a shroud. This does not apply
to the small owl called punggok, which, as soon as the moon rises,
may often be heard to emit a soft plaintive note. The note of the
punggok is admired by the Malays, who suppose it to be sighing for
the moon, and find in it an apt simile for a desponding lover.
"The baberek or birik-birik, another nocturnal bird, is a harbinger
of misfortune. This bird is said to fly in flocks at night; it has
a peculiar note, and a passing flock makes a good deal of noise. If
these birds are heard passing, the Pêrak peasant brings out a sengkalan
(a wooden platter on which spices are ground), and beats it with a
knife, or other domestic utensil, calling out as he does so: "Nenek,
bawa hati-nia" ("Great-grandfather, bring us their hearts"). This is
an allusion to the belief that the bird baberek flies in the train
of the Spectre Huntsman (hantu pemburu), who roams Malay forests
with several ghostly dogs, and whose appearance is the forerunner
of disease or death. "Bring us their hearts" is a mode of asking
for some of his game, and it is hoped that the request will delude
the hantu pemburu into the belief that the applicants are ra`iyat,
or followers of his, and that he will, therefore, spare the household.
"The baberek, [226] which flies with the wild hunt, bears a striking
resemblance to the white owl, Totosel, the nun who broke her vow,
and now mingles her "tutu" with the "holloa" of the Wild Huntsman of
the Harz. [227]
"The legend of the Spectre Huntsman is thus told by the Pêrak Malays:--
"In former days, at Katapang, in Sumatra, there lived a man whose
wife, during her pregnancy, was seized with a violent longing for the
meat of the pelandok (mouse-deer). But it was no ordinary pelandok
that she wanted. She insisted that it should be a doe, big with male
offspring, and she bade her husband go and seek in the jungle for what
she wanted. The man took his weapons and dogs and started, but his
quest was fruitless, for he had misunderstood his wife's injunctions,
and what he sought was a buck pelandok, big with male offspring,
an unheard-of prodigy.
"Day and night he hunted, slaying innumerable mouse-deer, which he
threw away on finding that they did not fulfil the conditions required.
"He had sworn a solemn oath on leaving home that he would not return
unsuccessful, so he became a regular denizen of the forest, eating
the flesh and drinking the blood of the animals which he slew, and
pursuing night and day his fruitless search. At length he said to
himself: 'I have hunted the whole earth over without finding what I
want; it is now time to try the firmament.' So he holloa'd on his dogs
through the sky, while he walked below on the earth looking up at them,
and after a long time, the hunt still being unsuccessful, the back of
his head, from constantly gazing upwards, became fixed to his back,
and he was no longer able to look down at the earth. One day a leaf
from the tree called Si Limbak fell on his throat and took root there,
and a straight shoot grew upwards in front of his face. [228] In this
state he still hunts through Malay forests, urging on his dogs as
they hunt through the sky, with his gaze evermore turned upwards. [229]
"His wife, whom he left behind when he started on the fatal chase,
was delivered in due time of two children--a boy and a girl. When
they were old enough to play with other children, it chanced one day
that the boy quarrelled with the child of a neighbour with whom he was
playing. The latter reproached him with his father's fate, of which the
child had hitherto been ignorant, saying: 'Thou art like thy father,
who has become an evil spirit, ranging the forests day and night,
and eating and drinking no man knows how. Get thee to thy father.'
"Then the boy ran crying to his mother and related what had been said
to him. 'Do not cry,' said she, 'it is true, alas! that thy father
has become a spirit of evil.' On this the boy cried all the more,
and begged to be allowed to join his father. His mother yielded at
last to his entreaties, and told him the name of his father and
the names of the dogs. He might be known, she said, by his habit
of gazing fixedly at the sky and by his four weapons--a blow-pipe
(sumpitan), a spear, a kris, and a sword (klewang). 'And,' added she,
'when thou hearest the hunt approaching, call upon him and the dogs
by name, and repeat thy own name and mine, so that he may know thee.'
"The boy entered the forest, and, after he had walked some way, met
an old man who asked him where he was going. 'I go to join my father,'
said the lad. 'If thou findest him,' said the old man, 'ask him where
he has put my chisel which he has borrowed from me.' This the boy
promised to do, and continued his journey. After he had gone a long
way he heard sounds like those made by people engaged in hunting. As
they approached, he repeated the names which his mother had told
him, and immediately found himself face to face with his father. The
hunter demanded of him who he was, and the child repeated all that
his mother had told him, not forgetting the message of the old man
about the chisel. Then the hunter said: 'Truly thou art my son. As
for the chisel, it is true that when I started from home I was in
the middle of shaping some bamboos to make steps for the house. I
put the chisel inside one of the bamboos. Take it and return it to
the owner. Return now and take care of thy mother and sister. As for
him who reproached thee, hereafter we will repay him. I will eat his
heart and drink his blood, so shall he be rewarded.'
"From that time forward the Spectre Huntsman has afflicted mankind,
and many are those whom he has destroyed. Before dismissing his son,
he desired him to warn all his kindred never to use bamboo for making
steps for a house, and never to hang clothes to dry from poles stuck in
between the joists supporting the floor, and thus jutting out at right
angles with a house, 'lest,' said he, 'I should strike against such
poles as I walk along. Further,' he continued, 'when ye hear the note
of the bird birik-birik at night, ye will know that I am walking near.'
"Then the boy returned to his mother and delivered to her and all
their kindred the injunctions of the lost man. One account says that
the woman followed her spectre husband to the forest, where she joins
in the chase with him to this day, and that they have there children
born in the woods. The first boy and girl retained their human form,
according to this account, but some Pawangs say that the whole family
are in the forest with the father. [230]
"Numerous mantra, or charms, against the evil influence of the
Wild Huntsman are in use among the Pawangs, or medicine-men of
Pêrak. These are repeated, accompanied by appropriate ceremonies,
when the disease from which some sick person is suffering has been
traced to an encounter with the hantu pemburu. [231]
"The following may serve as a specimen:--
"Bi-smi-lláhi-r-rahmáni-r-rahim.
Es-salamu `aleykum Hei Si Jidi laki Mah Jadah.
Pergi buru ka-rimba Ranchah Mahang.
Katapang nama bukit-nia,
Si Langsat nama anjing-nia,
Si Kumbang nama anjing-nia,
Si Nibong nama anjing-nia,
Si Pintas nama anjing-nia,
Si Aru-Aru nama anjing-nia,
Timiang Balu nama sumpitan-nia,
Lankapuri nama lembing-nia,
Singha-buana nama mata-nia,
Pisau raut panjang ulu
Akan pemblah pinang berbulu.
Ini-lah pisau raut deripada Maharaja Guru,
Akan pemblah prut hantu pemburu.
Aku tahu asal angkau mula menjadi orang Katapang.
Pulang-lah angkau ka rimba Ranchah Mahang.
Jangan angkau meniakat-meniakit pada tuboh badan-ku.
In the name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful,
Peace be on thee, O Si Jidi, husband of Mah Jadah.
Go thou and hunt in the forest of Ranchah Mahang.
Katapang is the name of thy hill,
Si Langsat is the name of thy dog,
Si Kumbang is the name of thy dog,
Si Nibong is the name of thy dog,
Si Pintas is the name of thy dog,
Si Aru-Aru is the name of thy dog,
Timiang Balu is the name of thy blow-pipe
Lankapuri is the name of thy spear,
Singha-buana is the name of its blade,
The peeling-knife with a long handle
Is to split in twain the fibrous betel-nut.
Here is a knife from Maharaja Guru,
To cleave the bowels of the Hunter-Spirit.
I know the origin from which thou springest,
O man of Katapang.
Get thee back to the forest of Ranchah Mahang.
Afflict not my body with pain or disease.
"In charms intended to guard him who repeats them, or who wears them
written on paper, against the evil influences of the Spectre Huntsman,
the names of the dogs, weapons, etc., constantly vary. The origin of
the dreaded demon is always, however, ascribed to Katapang [232] in
Sumatra. This superstition strikingly resembles the European legends of
the Wild Huntsman, whose shouts the trembling peasants hear above the
storm. It is, no doubt, of Aryan origin, and, coming to the Peninsula
from Sumatra, seems to corroborate existing evidence tending to show
that it is partly through Sumatra that the Peninsula has received Aryan
myths and Indian phraseology. A superstitious prejudice against the
use of bamboo in making a step-ladder for a Malay house and against
drying clothes outside a house on poles stuck into the framework,
exists in full force among the Pêrak Malays.
"The note of the birik-birik at night, telling as it does of the
approach of the hantu pemburu, is listened to with the utmost dread
and misgiving. The Bataks in Sumatra call this bird by the same
name--birik-birik. It is noticeable that in Batak legends regarding
the creation of the world, the origin of mankind is ascribed to
Putri-Orta-Bulan, the daughter of Batara-Guru, who descended to the
earth with a white owl and a dog." [233]
To the information contained in the foregoing passage I would add
the following observations:--
Charms for neutralising the power of the Spectre Huntsman are by no
means uncommon, and though they almost invariably differ in unimportant
details, such as the names of his dogs and weapons, they still bear
strong and unmistakable family likeness. Still there are some versions
which contain important divergencies (two or three of these versions
will be found in the Appendix), and it will only be after the diligent
collation and compilation of a great many versions that the real germ
or nucleus of the myth as known to the Malays will be clearly apparent.
One of the charms given in the Appendix evidently alludes to a
different version of the story; the lines which contain the allusion
being as follows:--
"I know your origin, O man of penance,
Whose dwelling was upon the hill of Mount Ophir,
[You sprang] from a son of the Prophet Joseph who was wroth with
his mother,
Because she would eat the hearts of the birds of Paradise."
Yet even here, if we except the obvious interpolation of the reference
to the "son of the Prophet Joseph," the task of reconciling the
conflicting versions may be easier than would appear at first
sight. [234]
A still more curious deviation occurs in another version, [235]
where the Spectre Huntsman's poniard and k'ris are declared to be the
insignia of the great Spirit-King Rama. The passage is as follows:--
"With a blind crow as his guide,
The giant demon, Si Adunada,
Carries (his weapons) slung over his shoulder with back bent
double.
Salampuri is the name of his poniard (sekin),
Silambuara the name of his k'ris,
The insignia of the Demon Rama."
That it is his weapons which the Spectre Huntsman's son (Adunada)
carries on his back appears from a passage below, which runs:--
"O Si Adunada, with the sword slung at your back,
Bent double you come from the lightwood swamps,
We did not guess that you were here."
This reference to Rama opens up a long vista of possibilities, but
for the present it will be sufficient to remark that the Spectre
Huntsman himself is almost universally declared by the Malays to be
the King of the Land-folk (Raja orang darat). It is on account of
this kingship that his weapons receive distinguishing titles such as
are given to royal weapons. This, too, is the reason that he is so
much more dreaded by Malays than ordinary spirits of evil; his mere
touch being considered sufficient to kill, by the exercise of that
divine power which all Malay Rajas are held to possess. [236]
To return from the foregoing digression: there are many other curious
legends connected with Birds. Thus, in 1882, Captain Kelham wrote
as follows:--
"From Mr. W. E. Maxwell, H.M. Assistant Resident, of Lârut, I hear
that the Malays have a strange legend connected with one of the
large Hornbills; but which species I was not able to find out. It is
as follows:--
"'A Malay, in order to be revenged on his mother-in-law (why, the
legend does not relate), shouldered his axe and made his way to the
poor woman's house, and began to cut through the posts which supported
it. After a few steady chops the whole edifice came tumbling down,
and he greeted its fall with a peal of laughter. To punish him for his
unnatural conduct he was turned into a bird, and the tebang mentuah
(literally, He who chopped down his mother-in-law) may often be heard
in the jungle uttering a series of sharp sounds like the chop of an
axe on timber, followed by Ha! ha! ha!'" [237]
The following account of the bird-lore of the Malay Peninsula was
compiled by me from notes supplied to the Selangor Journal [238]
by the late Sir William Maxwell:--
The Night-jar (Burong cheroh [239]) takes its name from the word
applied to the second stage in the operation of husking rice. Malay
women husk rice by pounding it in a mortar with a wooden pestle. The
husked grain is then commonly winnowed in a sieve, and the unhusked
rice (antah) which remains has to be separated from the husked rice
and pounded over again. The second process, which is called ckeroh,
is that from which the night-jar derives its name, the quick fancy of
the Malay hearing in the note of the bird the slow measured stroke of
a pestle (antan) descending in a mortar (lesong). This is possibly
the foundation of the legend that the Night-jar is a woman who,
while engaged in husking rice by moonlight, was turned into a bird
in consequence of a quarrel with her mother. Another name for the
night-jar is burong chempak.
The Burong sepah putri ("Princess's betel-quid") belongs to the
Honey-birds or Bee-eaters, of which there are several species,
remarkable chiefly for their brilliant metallic plumage. [A quaint
story is told in explanation of its name: once upon a time the Owl
(ponggok) fell in love with the Princess of the Moon (Putri Bulan)
and asked her to marry him. She promised to do so, if he would
allow her first to finish her quid of betel undisturbed; but before
finishing it she threw it down to the earth, where it took the form
of the small bird in question. The Princess then requested the Owl
to make search for it, but as, of course, he was unable to find it,
the proposed match fell through. This is the reason why the Owl,
to quote the Malay proverb, "sighs longingly to the Moon," and is
the type of the plaintive lover. [240]]
The Burong tinggal anak (lit. "Good-bye, children" bird) is a small
bird whose note is to be heard at the season when the young rice is
sprouting (musim padi pechah anak). As soon as her young are hatched
out this bird dies in the nest, repeating the words "Tinggal anak"
("Good-bye, children"), and the maggots which breed in her corpse
afford an unnatural nourishment to her unsuspecting offspring.
Burong diam 'kau Tuah, or "Hold your peace, Tuah," is the name of a
small bird which is said to repeat the words--
"Diam 'kau, Tuah,
K'ris aku ada,"
or,
"Hold thy peace, Tuah,
My k'ris (dagger) is with me."
The story runs that once upon a time there was a man who had a slave
called Tuah, who answered him back, and with whom he accordingly
found fault, using the words given above. In the transport of his
rage he was turned into a bird.
The bird called Kuau in Perak (kuau is the name given in Malacca and
Selangor to the argus pheasant, which in Perak is called kuang) is
about the size of the mynah (gambala kerbau), and is said to have been
metamorphosed from a woman, the reason of whose transformation is not
known. It is said to be unknown on the right bank of the Perak River.
The "'Kap-kap' bird" is the name of a night-bird of evil omen, whose
note heard at night prognosticates death.
The Tearer of the shroud (Burong charik kapan) is also a night-bird,
with a slow, deliberate note which the Malays declare sounds exactly
like the tearing of cloth. [241] This signifies the tearing of
the shroud, and unerringly forebodes death. Yet another night-bird
ominous of approaching dissolution is the Tumbok larong. This bird,
like the two preceding, is probably a variety of owl; the first and
third are only found inland at a distance from the sea.
'Toh katampi ("Old-man-winnow-the-rice-for-the-burial-feast,"
as Sir Frank Swettenham calls him, [242]) is a species of horned
owl, which derives its name from a word meaning to winnow (tampi,
menampi). Malays say that this bird has a habit of treading upon the
extremities of its own wings, and fluttering the upper part while thus
holding them down. This singular habit produces a sound resembling
that of winnowing.
The 'Toh katampi is larger than the Jampuk, another species of owl,
which is popularly supposed to enter the fowl-house and there live
on the intestines of fowls, which it extracts during life by means
of a certain charm (`elmu pelali, a charm similar to those used by
the Malays for filing teeth, etc.) which it uses in order to perform
the operation painlessly.
The "Luck-bird" (Burong untong) is a very small white bird about
the size of a canary. It builds a very small white nest, which if
found and placed in a rice-bin possesses the valuable property of
securing a good harvest to its owner. As, however, the nest is built
on branches in places difficult of access it is but rarely found,
and Malays will give $10 for a genuine specimen, while sellers are
known to ask as much as $25.
The Ruwak-ruwak is a kind of Heron whose nest if discovered would give
the possessor the power of becoming invisible (alimun). But as neither
nest nor eggs can usually be found it is held to be childless. Yet,
however, if it is possible to approach sufficiently near, when the bird
is heard calling in the swamps, it may be seen dipping a twig or else
its bent leg into the water, and accompanying its action with its call,
as if it were bathing a child on its knee; hence the Malay who hears
its note says mockingly, "the Ruwak-ruwak is bathing its young one."
Tukang is the name given in Kedah to a kind of Hornbill, which is
believed to be the same as the langlin of Perak. The horn is of
a yellow tinge, and is made into buttons, which, the Malays say,
turn to a livid colour whenever the wearer is about to fall sick,
and black when he is threatened by the approach of poison. [243]
The Merbu (? merbok) is a variety of Dove which brings good luck to
its owner. Instances have been known where all the houses in a village
have been burnt except that which contained a merbu; indeed, treatises
have been written on the subject of keeping them. When the merbu dies
its body merely shrivels up instead of breeding worms, which, it is
added, would be worth keeping as curiosities should any appear. [244]
The bird called Pedrudang is a diver which has the power of remaining
under water for a very long time. It is only to be found where the fish
called kelesah exist in large quantities. The eggs of the kelesah are
of great size, and the Malays say, therefore, that it cohabits with
the pedrudang. These eggs are considered a delicacy by the Malays,
who make them into a sort of custard pudding (s'ri-kaya).
To the Ground-pigeon (Tekukur) belongs the following story:--"Once
upon a time there was a maiden who lived in the forest with her parents
and little sister. When she grew up she was troubled by an anxiety to
accompany her father in his expeditions to the forest, where he was
engaged in clearing the ground for a rice-plantation. Her parents,
however, persuaded her to stay at home; first until the trees were
felled, then until the fallen timber had been burnt off, then till the
rice had been planted, and then again till it was cut. When, however,
they attempted to put her off yet once more, until the rice should be
trodden out, she could bear it no longer, and taking off her bracelets
and earrings, which she left behind the door, and placing her little
sister in the swinging-cot, she changed herself into a ground-dove
and flew away to the clearing. [She retained her necklace, however,
and this accounts for the speckled marks on this dove's neck.] On
arriving at the spot where her parents were engaged at work, she
alighted on a dead tree stump (changgong), and called out thrice to her
mother, 'Mother, mother, I have left my earrings and bracelets behind
the door, and have put my little sister in the swing.' Her mother,
amazed at these words, hastened home, and found her daughter gone. She
then returned to the bird, which repeated the same words as before,
this time, however, concluding with the coo of a dove. In vain the
distressed parents endeavoured to recapture her, by cutting down the
tree on which she had perched; before they had done so she flew to
another, and after following her from tree to tree for several miles
they were obliged to desist, and she was never recaptured." [245]
The following notes on birds are taken from a reprint [246] of
"Museum Notes" by Mr. L. Wray, jun., the official curator of the
Perak Museum. Mr. Wray says:--
"The Weaver-bird, which makes the long hanging bottle-shaped nests
occasionally seen hanging from the branches of a low tree, is said
to use a golden needle in the work; and it is affirmed that if the
nest is carefully picked to pieces, without breaking any part of it,
the needle will be found; but if it is pulled ruthlessly apart, or
if even a single piece of the grass of which it is made is broken in
unravelling it, the golden needle will disappear. The makers of these
curious and beautiful nests are said to always choose trees that are
infested with red ants or wasps, or which grow in impassable swamps."
The Weaver-bird (Ploceus Baya, Blyth) is called (in Selangor) Burong
Tempua or Chiak Raya. It is said to use only the long jungle grass
called lalang for making its nest, which latter is called buah rabun,
and is used by the Malays for polishing sheaths and scabbards. When an
infant keeps crying, one of the parents takes the weaver-bird's nest,
reduces it to ashes, and fumigates the child by thrice moving it round
in a circle over the smoke. Whilst doing so, the parent either stands
up with the right toe resting upon the toe of the left foot, or else
squats upon the left heel, bending the right knee, and saying, 'As the
weaver-bird's young in its nest, so rest and weep not' (Bagimana anak
tempua dalam sarang-nya, bagitu-lah 'kau diam jangan menangis). To
the above I may add that besides the ordinary bottle-shaped nest,
the weaver-birds also occasionally make a hood-shaped, or rather a
helmet-shaped nest, which is alleged by the Malays to be the male
bird's 'swing' (buayan). This 'swing' resembles the upper half of an
ordinary bottle-shaped nest, with a perch across it, which latter is
also woven of grass. On the walls of the swing, just over each end of
the perch, is a small daub of clay. The Malays allege that the male
bird swings in it while the hen bird is sitting, and that the young
too 'take the air' in it as soon as they are able to fly so far. Into
the two daubs of mud over the perch the male bird (say the Malays)
sticks fire-flies to give itself light at night.
"The King crow [247] is called by the Malays the Slave of the Monkeys
(Burong hamba kra). It is a pretty, active, noisy little bird,
incessantly flying about with its two long racquet-shaped tail feathers
fluttering after it. They say that when it has both of these feathers
it has paid off its debt and is free, but when it is either destitute
of these appendages, or has only one, it is still in bondage.
"The Gray Sea-eagle [248] is called Burong hamba siput 'the Slave of
the Shell-fish,' and its office is to give warning by screaming to
the shell-fish of the changes of the tide, so that they may regulate
their movements, and those species which crawl about on the mud at
low water may know when to take refuge in the trees and escape the
rising tide, or when the tide is falling, that they may know when to
descend to look for food.
"The Burong demam, or 'Fever bird,' is so called from its loud,
tremulous note, and the Malays say that the female bird calls in its
fever-stricken voice to its mate to go and find food, because it has
fever so badly that it cannot go itself. This bird is probably one
of the large green barbets. The note is often heard, and doubtless
the bird has been collected, but it is one thing shooting a bird and
another identifying it as the producer of a certain note.
"Another bird, the White-breasted Water-hen, a frequenter of the
edges of reedy pools and the marshy banks of streams, is reputed to
build a nest on the ground which has the property of rendering any
one invisible who puts it on his head. The prevailing idea among the
Malays is that the proper and legitimate use to put it to is to steal
money and other species of property."
The next few notes on Malay bird-lore were collected by the writer
in Selangor:--
The Toucan or small Hornbill (Enggang) was metamorphosed from a man
who, in conjunction with a companion, broke into the house of an old
man living by himself in the jungle, and slew him for the sake of
his wealth. When life was extinct they threw a sheet over the body,
and proceeded to ransack the house, throwing the loot into a second
sheet close to the corpse. Day was about to dawn, when a false alarm
induced them to make a hurried departure, so that they picked up the
sheet with their loot and made off with it, carrying it slung hastily
upon a pole between them. As they proceeded on their way day commenced
gradually to dawn, and the man behind noticing something unexpected
about the bundle, and divining the cause, called out to his companion
"Orang!" (pr. o rang) "The man!" His companion, misunderstanding
his exclamation, thought he meant that they were pursued by "a man,"
and only went all the faster, until, on hearing his comrade repeat
the cry a second and a third time, he turned round, and there saw the
feet of the man he had murdered protruding from the sheet, a sight
which startled him to such a degree that he turned into a bird upon
the spot, and flew away into a tree, repeating as he went the fatal
cry of "O'Rang! 'Rang!" which had caused the transformation. And to
this day, whenever the Malay hears among the tree-tops the cry of
"'Rang! 'rang!" he knows that he is listening to the cry of the
murderer. [249]
The Argus-pheasant [250] and the Crow [251] in the days of King
Solomon were bosom friends, and could never do enough to show their
mutual friendship. One day, however, the argus-pheasant, who was then
dressed somewhat dowdily, suggested that his friend the crow should
show his skill with the brush by decorating his (the argus-pheasant's)
feathers. To this the crow agreed, on condition, however, that the
arrangement should be mutual. The argus-pheasant agreed to this,
and the crow forthwith set to work, and so surpassed himself that the
argus-pheasant became, as it is now, one of the most beautiful birds in
the world. When the crow's task was done, however, the argus-pheasant
refused to fulfil his own part of the bargain, excusing himself
on the plea that the day of judgment was too near at hand. Hence a
fierce quarrel ensued, at the end of which the argus-pheasant upset
the ink-bottle over the crow, and thus rendered him coal-black. [252]
Hence the crow and the argus-pheasant are enemies to this day.
The bird called "Barau-barau" is said to have once been a bidan
(midwife) whose employers (anak bidan) refused to pay her for her
services, and kept constantly putting her off. Her patience, however,
had its limits, and one day, after experiencing the usual evasion,
she broke out into a torrent of intemperate language, in the midst
of which she was changed into a bird, whose querulous note may be
recognised as the voice of the aged woman as she cries out for the
payment of her just wages.
About the big Kingfisher (Pekaka) an amusing parallel to the fable
of the Fox and the Crow is related. It is said that this kingfisher
once caught a fish, and flew to a low branch just overhanging the
water to devour it. The fish, seeking for a means to save his life,
decided to try the effect of a speech, and accordingly addressed his
captor in the following verses, judiciously designed to appeal at
once to her vanity and compassion:--
"O Kingfisher! Kingfisher!
What a glistening, glittering beak!
Yet while you, Big Sister, are filling your maw,
Little Brother will lose his life."
At this critical juncture the Kingfisher opens her beak to laugh,
and the fish slips back into his native element and escapes!
Fowling Ceremonies
Ideas of sympathetic magic run very strongly through all ceremonies
connected with the taking of wild birds, such for instance as
jungle-fowl or pigeon.
The commonest method of snaring jungle-fowl is to take a line (called
rachik), with a great number of fine nooses attached to it, and set
it so as to form a complete circle, enclosing an open space in the
forest. You must bring a decoy-bird with you, and the instructions
which I collected say that you should on arriving enter the circle,
holding the bird like a fighting cock, and repeat these lines:--
"Ho, Si Lanang, Si Tempawi,
Come and let us play at cock-fighting
On the border-line between the primary and secondary forest-growth.
Your cock, Grandsire, is spurred with steel.
Mine is but spurred with bamboo."
Here deposit the bird upon the ground. The challenge of the decoy-bird
will then attract the jungle-fowl from all directions, and as they
try to enter the circle (in order to reach the decoy), they will
entangle themselves in the nooses.
As often as you succeed, however, in catching one, you must be careful
to cast the "mischief" out of it, using the same form of words as is
used to drive the "mischief" out of the carcase of the deer.
The method of catching wild pigeon is much more elaborate, and brings
the animistic ideas of the Malays into strong relief, the "souls"
of the wild pigeon being repeatedly referred to.
First you build a small sugar-loaf (conical) hut (called bumbun) in
a carefully selected spot in the jungle. This hut may be from four
to five feet high, is strongly built of stakes converging to a point
at the top, and is thickly thatched with leaves and branches. The
reason for making it strong is that there is always an off-chance
that you may receive a visit from a tiger. At the back of the hut
you must leave a small square opening (it can hardly be dignified
with the name of a door), about two feet high and with a flap to it,
through which you can creep into the hut on your hands and knees. [I
may remark, parenthetically, that you will find the hut very damp,
very dark, and very full of mosquitoes, and that if you are wise you
will take with you a small stock of cigarettes.] In front of the hut,
that is to say, on the side away from the door, if you want to proceed
in the orthodox way, you will have to clear a small rectangular space,
and put up round it on three sides (right, left, and front opposite
the hut) a low railing consisting of a single bar about 18 inches
from the ground. This is to rail off what is called "King Solomon's
Palace-yard," and will also be useful from a practical point of view,
as it will serve as a perch for your "decoy." [253]
The instructions proceed as follows:--
Before entering the hut the wizard must go through what is called the
"Neutralising Rice-paste" (tepong tawar) ceremony, first in the centre
of the enclosed space, and then in each corner successively, beating
each of the forked sticks (uprights) at the corners with a bunch
of leaves. He must then take the decoy-tube, and after reciting the
appropriate charm, sound a long-drawn note in each corner successively,
and then insert the mouth-end of it into the hut through a hole in
the thatch, supporting the heavy outer end upon a forked upright
stick. Then entering the hut, he slips the noose at the end of the
decoy-bird's rod on to the decoy-bird's feet, and pushing the bird
out through the front door of the hut, makes it flutter on to one of
the horizontal rods, where it will sit, if well trained, and call its
companions. After a time the decoy-bird's challenge is met by first
one and then many counter challenges, then the wild pigeon approach,
there is a great fluttering of wings, and presently one of the first
arrivals flies down and commences to walk round and round the hut. Then
the wizard awaits his opportunity, and as the pigeon passes in front of
the door he pushes out one of the rods with a noose at the end, slips
the noose over the bird's neck or feet, and drags it into the hut.
The hut must be used, if possible, before the leaves with which it
is thatched have faded, as the wild pigeon are less likely to be
suspicious of the hut when its thatch is green.
In the way just described any number of pigeon can be taken, a bag
of twenty or thirty being a fair average for a day's work under
favourable conditions.
The "call" will occasionally, for some unexplained reason, attract
to the spot wild animals such as deer (especially mouse-deer) and
tigers. Is it not possible that the story of the lute of Orpheus may
have had its origin in some old hunting custom of the kind?
The following are specimens of the charms used by the wizard:--
When you are about to start (to decoy pigeons) say--
"It is not I who am setting out,
It is 'Toh Bujang Sibor [254] who is setting out."
Then sound the decoy-tube (buluh dekut) thrice loudly, and say--
"I pray that they (the pigeons) may come in procession, come
in succession,
To enter into this bundle [255] of ours."
Now set out, and when you reach the conical hut (bumbun) say--
"My hut's name is the Magic Prince,
My decoy's name is Prince Distraction,
Distraught be ye, O Kapor [256] (pigeon),
Distraught be ye, O Puding[3] (pigeon),
Distraught be ye, O Sarap[3] (pigeon),
Distraught (with desire) to enter our bundle."
Or else when you first reach the hut, "take the (leaves of) the branch
of a tree which is as high as your head, the leaves of the branch of
a tree which is as high as your waist, the leaves of the branch of a
tree which is as high as your knee, and the leaves of a tree which
is only as high as your ankle-joint. Make them all into a bunch,
and with them "flick" the outside of the hut, saying these lines--
"Dok Ding [stands for the] 'Do'ding' Pigeon,
Which makes three with the Madukara Pigeon,
The twig breaks, and the twig is pressed down,
And our immemorial customs are restored."
When scattering the rice, say--
"Sift, sift the broken rice-ends,
Sift them over the rush-work rice-bag,
As one disappears another is invited,
Invited and brought down.
If you descend not, the Bear-cat (Binturong) shall devour you,
If you come not, wild beasts shall devour you,
And if you perch on a twig, you shall fall headlong,
If you perch on a bough, you shall be killed by a woodcutter,
If you perch on a leaf, you shall be bitten by the leaf-snake,
If you descend to the ground, you shall be bitten by a venomous
serpent,
If you fly upwards, you shall be swooped upon by kites and eagles,
(That is) if you descend not.
Cluck, cluck! souls of Queen Kapor, of Princess Puding, and
Handmaid Sarap.
Come down and assemble in King Solomon's audience-hall,
And put on King Solomon's breast-ornaments and armlets."
When sprinkling the rice-paste (tepong tawar) on the uprights at each
corner of the railed-off enclosure, say--
"Neutralising rice-paste, genuine rice-paste,
Add plumpness to plumpness,
Let pigeon come down to the weight of thousands of pounds,
And alight upon the Ivory Hall,
Which is carpeted with silver, and whose railings are of amalgam,
Unto the dishes of Her Highness Princess Lebar Nyiru (Broad-sieve).
Come in procession, come (in succession),
The 'assembly-flower' begins to unfold its petals,
Come down in procession, come down as stragglers,
King Solomon's self has come to call you.
Sift, sift (the rice) over the rice-bag,
King Solomon's self bids you haste.
Sift, sift the rice-ends,
Sift them over the rush-work bag.
As one disappears another is invited,
Is invited and escorted down.
Sift, sift the rice-ends,
Sift them over the salt-bag,
As one disappears another is invited,
And escorted inside (the hut)."
When you are sounding the call (melaung), stand in the middle of the
enclosure and say:--
"Cluck, cluck! soul of Princess Puding, of Queen Kapor, and
Queen Sarap,
Enter ye into our Bundle,
And perch upon the Ivory Railing.
Come in procession, come in succession,
The assembly-flower unfolds its petals.
Come down in procession, come down in succession,
King Solomon's self is come to call you.
If you do not come down, the Bear-cat shall eat you,
If you do not appear, wild beasts shall devour you,
If you perch upon a twig, you shall fall headlong
(All over) the seven valleys and seven knolls of rising ground.
If ye go to the hills, ye shall get no food;
If ye go to the forest-pools, ye shall get no drink."
Or else the following:--
"Cut the mengkudu [257] branch,
Cut it (through) and thrust it downwards.
Let those which are near be the first to arrive,
And those which are far off be sent for,
Let those which have eggs, leave their eggs,
And those which have young, desert their young,
Let those which are blind, come led by others,
And those which have broken limbs, come on crutches.
Come and assemble in King Solomon's audience-hall.
Cluck, cluck! souls of Queen Kapor, Princess Puding, Handmaid
Sarap,
Come down and assemble in King Solomon's audience-hall,
And put on King Solomon's necklace (breast-ornaments) and
armlets." [258]
When about to enter the hut say--
"[Hearken], O Hearts of Wild Doves,
Cut we the Rod of Invitation,
This hut is named the Magic Prince,
This tube is named Prince Distraction,
Distraught (be ye) by day, distraught by night,
Distraught (with longing) to assemble in King Solomon's Hall,
Cluck, cluck! souls of Queen Kapor," etc. (as before). [259]
When you have just entered, and before you seat yourself, say--
"Sift, sift the rice-ends,
Sift them over a rush-work rice-bag," etc. (as before).
Put your lips to the decoy-tube, and sound the call, saying--
"Cut the mengkudu stem;
Cut it (through) and thrust it downwards," etc. (as before).
(or else some longer version, such as one of those given in the
Appendix). When the wild pigeon have arrived and have entered the
enclosure or "Palace-yard," wait till they are in a good position,
and then push out one of the rods with the fine noose at the end,
slip the noose over the bird's neck, and drag it into the house,
saying as you do so--
"Wak-wak [stands for] a heron on the kitchen shelf,
Covered over with the top of a cocoa-nut shell,
Do you move aside, Sir Bachelor, Master of the Ceremonies,
I wish to ensnare the necks of the race of wild doves."
Now that you understand the process of decoying pigeon with a
pigeon-call, I must explain something of the curious nomenclature used
by the wizard; for during the ceremony you must never call a spade a
spade. In the first place, the hut must not on any account be mentioned
as such: it is to be called the Magic Prince--why so called, it is hard
to say, but most likely the name is used in allusion to the wizard who
is concealed inside it. The name given to the calling-tube itself is
more appropriate, as it is called "Prince Distraction" (Raja Gila),
this name of course being an allusion to the extraordinary fascination
which it evidently exercises on the pigeon. Then the decoy (or rather,
perhaps, the rod to which it is linked) is called Putri Pemonggo',
or the Squatting Princess. Next to these come three Princesses which
prove to be merely the representatives of three important species of
wild pigeon. Their names, though variously given, are perhaps most
commonly known as Princess "Kapor," Princess "Sarap," and Princess
"Puding."
Finally, even the rod used for ensnaring the pigeon has its own
special name, Si Raja Nyila (Prince Invitation).
"King Solomon's necklaces" and armlets are of course the nooses with
which they are to be snared, and which will catch them either by the
neck or by the leg.
The Princesses are invited to enter a gorgeous palace:--
"Come down, pigeons, in your myriads,
And perch upon the 'Ivory Hall,'
(That is) carpeted with silver, and railed with amalgam,
(Come down) to the dishes of Her Highness Princess Lebar Nyiru
(Broad-sieve)." [260]
The "dishes of Her Highness Princess Broad-sieve" cleverly suggest
an abundance of provender such as is likely to appeal to a hungry bird!
In another version the three Princesses are invited to enter the
"Palace Tower" called "Fatimah Passes" (Mahaligei Fatimah Lalu).
Moreover those who issue the invitation are no respecters of persons:--
"Let those which are near, arrive the first,
Let those which are far off be sent for,
Let those which have eggs, leave their eggs,
Those which have young, leave their young,
Those which are blind, be led by others,
Those which have broken limbs, come on crutches;
Come and assemble in King Solomon's Audience-Chamber." [261]
And a similar passage in another charm says--
"Let those which are near, arrive the first,
Let those which are far off be sent for,
Cluck! cluck! souls of the children of forest doves,
Come ye down and assemble together
In the fold of God and King Solomon."
If blandishments fail, however, there is to be no doubt about the
punishments in store for their wilful Highnesses: thus, a little later,
we find the alternative, a thoroughgoing imprecation calculated to
"convince" the most headstrong of birds:--
"I call you, I fetch you down,
If you come not down you shall be eaten by the Bear-cat,
You shall be choked to death with your own feathers,
You shall be choked to death with a bone in your throat.
If you perch on a creeper you shall be entangled by it,
If you settle on a leaf you shall be bitten by the 'leaf snake,'
Come you down quickly to God's fold and King Solomon's."
And an imprecation of similar import says--
"[If you do not come down, the Bear-cat shall eat you],
If you perch on a bough, you shall slip off it,
If you perch on a creeper, you shall slide off it,
If you perch upon a leafless stump, the stump shall fall;
If you settle on the ground, the ground-snake shall bite you,
If you soar up to heaven, the eagle shall swoop upon you."
(b) Earth
1. BUILDING CEREMONIES AND CHARMS
The first operation in building is the selection of the site. This
is determined by an elaborate code of rules which make the choice
depend--firstly, upon the nature of the soil with respect to colour,
taste, and smell; secondly, upon the formation of its surface; and,
thirdly, upon its aspect:--
"The best soil, whether for a house, village, orchard, or town, is a
greenish yellow, fragrant-scented, tart-tasting loam: such a soil will
ensure abundance of gold and silver unto the third generation. [262]
"The best site, whether for a house, village, orchard, or town,
is level. [263]
"The best aspect (of the surface) is that of land which is low upon
the north side and high upon the south side: such a site will bring
absolute peacefulness." [264]
When you have found a site complying with more or less favourable
conditions, in accordance with the code, you must next clear the ground
of forest or undergrowth, lay down four sticks to form a rectangle in
the centre thereof, and call upon the name of the lords of that spot
(i.e. the presiding local deities or spirits). Now dig up the soil
(enclosed by the four sticks), and taking a clod in your hand, call
upon the lords of that spot as follows:--
"Ho, children of Mentri [265] Guru,
Who dwell in the Four Corners of the World,
I crave this plot as a boon."
(Here mention the purpose to which you wish to put it.)
"If it is good, show me a good omen,
If it is bad, show me a bad omen." [266]
Wrap the clod up in white cloth, and after fumigating it with incense,
place it at night beneath your pillow, and when you retire to rest
repeat the last two lines of the above charm as before and go to
sleep. If your dream is good proceed with, if bad desist from, your
operations. Supposing your dream to be "good," you must (approximately)
clear the site of the main building and peg out the four corners with
dead sticks; then take a dead branch and heap it up lightly with earth
(in the centre of the site?); set fire to it, and when the whole heap
has been reduced to ashes, sweep it all up together and cover it over
while you repeat the charm (which differs but little from that given
above). Next morning uncover it early in the morning and God will
show you the good and the bad.
The site being finally selected, you must proceed to choose a day for
erecting the central house-post, by consulting first the schedule of
lucky and unlucky months, and next the schedule of lucky and unlucky
days of the week. [267]
[The best time of day for the operation to take place is said to be
always seven o'clock in the morning. Hence there seems to be no need
to consult a schedule to discover it, though some magicians may do so.]
The propitious moment having been at last ascertained, the erection
of the centre-post will be proceeded with. First, the hole for its
reception must be dug (the operation being accompanied by the recital
of a charm) and the post erected, the greatest precautions being taken
to prevent the shadow of any of the workers from falling either upon
the post itself or upon the hole dug to receive it, sickness and
trouble being otherwise sure to follow. [268]
[The account in the Appendix, of which the above is a résumé, omits
to describe the sacrifice which has to be made before the erection of
the centre-post, which has therefore been drawn from the instructions
of other magicians.]
"When the hole has been dug and before the centre-post is actually
erected, some sort of sacrifice or offering has to be made. First
you take a little brazilwood (kayu sepang), a little ebony-wood
(kayu arang), a little assafoetida (inggu), and a little scrap-iron
(tahi besi), and deposit them in the hole which you have dug. Then
take a fowl, [269] a goat, or a buffalo [according to the ascertained
or reputed malignity of the locally presiding earth-demon (puaka)],
and cut its throat according to Muhammadan custom, spilling its blood
into the hole. Then cut off its head and feet, and deposit them within
the hole to serve as a foundation for the centre-post to rest upon
(buat lapik tiang s'ri). Put a ring on your little finger out of
compliment to the earth-spirit (akan membujok jembalang itu), repeat
the charm [270] and erect the post." [271]
Another form of the above ceremony was described to me by a magician
as follows:--
"Deposit in the hole a little scrap-iron and tin-ore, a candle nut
(buah k'ras or buah gorek), a broken hatchet head (b'liong patah),
and a cent (in copper). Wait till everybody else has returned home,
and, standing close to the hole, pick up three clods (kepal) of
earth, hold them (genggam) over the incense, turn 'right-about-face'
and repeat the charm. [272] Then take the three clods home (without
once turning round to look behind you till you reach home), place
them under your sleeping pillow and wait till nightfall, when you may
have either a good or a bad dream. If the first night's dream be bad,
throw away one of the clods and dream again. If the second night's
dream be bad, repeat the process, and whenever you get a good dream
deposit the clod or clods under the butt-end of the centre-post to
serve as a foundation."
A magician gave me this specimen of a charm used at this ceremony
(of erecting the centre-post):--
"Ho, Raja Guru, Maharaja Guru,
You are the sons of Batara Guru.
I know the origin from which you spring,
From the Flashing of Lightning's spurs;
I know the origin from which you spring,
From the Brightening of Daybreak.
Ho, Spectre of the Earth, Brains of the Earth, Demon of the Earth,
Retire ye hence to the depths of the Ocean,
To the peace of the primeval forest.
Betwixt you and me
Division was made by Adam."
Another rule of importance in house-building is that which regulates
the length of the threshold, as to which the instructions are as
follows:--
"Measure off (on a piece of string) the stretch (fathom) of the arms
of her who is to be mistress of the proposed house. Fold this string
in three and cut off one third. Take the remainder, fold it in eight
and cut off seven-eighths. Take the remaining eighth, see how many
times it is contained in the length of the threshold, and check off
the number (of these measurements) against the "category" (bilangan)
of the "eight beasts" [273] (benatang yang d'lapan). This category
runs as follows:--(1) The dragon (naga); (2) the dairy-cow (sapi); (3)
the lion (singa); (4) the dog (anjing); (5) the draught-cow (lembu);
(6) the ass (kaldei); (7) the elephant (gajah), and (8) the crow
(gagak), all of which have certain ominous significations. If the
last measurement coincides with one of the unlucky beasts in the
category, such as the crow (which signifies the death of the master
of the house), the threshold is cut shorter to make it fit in with
one that is more auspicious." [274]
The names of the "eight beasts," coupled with the events which they
are supposed to foreshadow, are often commemorated in rhyming stanzas.
Here is a specimen:--
I.--The Dragon (naga).
"A dragon of bulk, a monster dragon,
Is this dragon that turns round month by month. [275]
Wherever you go you will be safe from stumbling-blocks,
And all who meet you will be your friends."
II.--The Dairy-Cow (sapi).
"There is the smoke of a fire in the forest,
Where Inche `Ali is burning lime;
They were milking the young dairy-cow,
And in the midst of the milking it sprawled and fell down dead."
III.--The Lion (singa).
"A lion of courage, a lion of valour,
Is the lion gambolling at the end of the Point.
The luck of this house will be lasting,
Bringing you prosperity from year to year."
IV.--The Dog (anjing).
"The wild dog, the jackal,
Barks at the deer from night to night;
Whatever you do will be a stumbling-block;
In this house men will stab one another."
V.--The Draught-Cow (lembu).
"The big cow from the middle of the clearing
Has gone to the Deep Forest to calve there.
Great good luck will be your portion.
Never will you cease to be prosperous."
VI.--The Ass (kaldei).
"The ass within the Fort
Carries grass from morn to eve;
Whatever you pray for will not be granted,
Though big your capital, the half will be lost."
VII.--The Elephant (gajah).
"The big riding elephant of the Sultan
Has its tusks covered with amalgam.
Good luck is your portion,
No harm or blemish will you suffer."
VIII.--The Crow (gagak).
"A black crow soaring by night
Has perched on the house of the great Magic Prince;
Great indeed is the calamity which has happened:
Within the house its master lies dead."
In close connection with the ceremonies for the selection of individual
house sites are the forms by which the princes of Malay tradition
selected sites for the towns which they founded. The following extract
will perhaps convey some idea of their character:--
"One day Raja Marong Maha Podisat went into his outer audience hall,
where all his ministers, warriors, and officers were in attendance,
and commanded the four Mantris to equip an expedition with all the
necessary officers and armed men, and with horses and elephants, arms
and accoutrements. The four Mantris did as they were ordered, and when
all was ready they informed the Raja. The latter waited for a lucky
day and an auspicious moment, and then desired his second son to set
out. The Prince took leave after saluting his father and mother, and
all the ministers, officers, and warriors who followed him performed
obeisance before the Raja. They then set out in search of a place of
settlement, directing their course between south and east, intending
to select a place with good soil, and there to build a town with fort,
moat, palace, and balei. [276] They amused themselves in every forest,
wood, and thicket through which they passed, crossing numbers of
hills and mountains, and stopping here and there to hunt wild beasts,
or to fish if they happened to fall in with a pool or lake.
"After they had pursued their quest for some time they came to the
tributary of a large river which flowed down to the sea. Farther
on they came to a large sheet of water, in the midst of which were
four islands. The Prince was much pleased with the appearance of the
islands, and straightway took a silver arrow and fitted it to his
bow named Indra Sakti, and said: 'O arrow of the bow Indra Sakti,
fall thou on good soil in this group of islands; wherever thou mayest
chance to fall, there will I make a palace in which to live.' He then
drew his bow and discharged the arrow, which flew upwards with the
rapidity of lightning, and with a humming sound like that made by a
beetle as it flies round a flower, and went out of sight. Presently
it came in sight again, and fell upon one of the islands, which on
that account was called Pulau Indra Sakti. On that spot was erected a
town with fort, palace, and balei, and all the people who were living
scattered about in the vicinity were collected together and set to
work on the various buildings." [277]
Even in the making of roads through the forest it would appear that
sacrificial ceremonies are not invariably neglected. On one occasion
I came upon a party of Malays in the Labu jungle who were engaged in
making a bridle-track for the Selangor Government. A small bamboo
censer, on which incense had been burning, had been erected in the
middle of the trace; and I was informed that the necessary rites
(for exorcising the demons from the trace) had just been successfully
concluded.
2. BEASTS AND BEAST CHARMS
All wild animals, more especially the larger and more dangerous
species, are credited in Malay folklore with human or (occasionally)
superhuman powers.
In the pages which now follow I shall deal with the folklore which
refers to the more important animals, first pointing out their
anthropomorphic traits, then detailing some of the more important
traditions about them, and finally, where possible, describing the
methods of hunting them.
The Elephant
Of the Elephant we read:--
"The superstitious dread entertained by Malays for the larger animals
is the result of ideas regarding them which have been inherited
from the primitive tribes of Eastern Asia. Muhammadanism has not
been able to stamp out the deep-rooted feelings which prompted the
savage to invest the wild beasts which he dreaded with the character
of malignant deities. The tiger, elephant, and rhinoceros [278] were
not mere brutes to be attacked and destroyed. The immense advantages
which their strength and bulk gave them over the feebly-armed savage
of the most primitive tribes naturally suggested the possession of
supernatural powers; and propitiation, not force, was the system by
which it was hoped to repel them. The Malay addresses the tiger as
Datoh (grandfather), and believes that many tigers are inhabited
by human souls. Though he reduces the elephant to subjection, and
uses him as a beast of burden, it is universally believed that the
observance of particular ceremonies, and the repetition of prescribed
formulas, are necessary before wild elephants can be entrapped and
tamed. Some of these spells and charms (mantra) are supposed to have
extraordinary potency, and I have in my possession a curious collection
of them, regarding which, it was told me seriously by a Malay, that in
consequence of their being read aloud in his house three times all the
hens stopped laying! The spells in this collection are nearly all in
the Siamese language, and there is reason to believe that the modern
Malays owe most of their ideas on the subject of taming and driving
elephants to the Siamese. Those, however, who had no idea of making
use of the elephant, but who feared him as an enemy, were doubtless the
first to devise the idea of influencing him by invocations. This idea
is inherited, both by Malays and Siamese, from common ancestry." [279]
To the above evidence (which was collected by Sir W. E. Maxwell no
doubt mainly in Perak) I would add that at Labu, in Selangor, I heard
on more than one occasion a story in which the elephant-folk were
described as possessing, on the borders of Siam, a city of their own,
where they live in houses like human beings, and wear their natural
human shape. This story, which was first told me by Ungku Said Kechil
of Jelebu, was taken down by me at the time, and ran as follows:--
"A Malay named Laboh went out one day to his rice-field and found
that elephants had been destroying his rice.
"He therefore planted caltrops of a cubit and a half in length in
the tracks of the offenders. That night an elephant was wounded in
the foot by one of the caltrops, and went off bellowing with pain.
"Day broke and Laboh set off on the track of the wounded elephant,
but lost his way, and after three days and nights journeying, found
himself on the borders of a new and strange country. Presently he
encountered an old man, to whom he remarked 'Hullo, grandfather,
your country is extraordinarily quiet!' The old man replied,
'Yes, for all noise is forbidden, because the king's daughter is
ill.' 'What is the matter with her?' asked Si Laboh. The old man
replied that she had trodden upon a caltrop. Si Laboh then asked,
'May I see if I can do anything to help her?'
"The old man then went and reported the matter to the king, who
ordered Si Laboh to be brought into his presence.
"[Now the country which Si Laboh had reached was a fine open country
on the borders of Siam. It is called 'Pak Henang,' and its only
inhabitants are the elephant-people who live there in human guise. And
whoever trespasses over the boundaries of that country turns into
an elephant.]
"Then Si Laboh saw that the king's daughter, whose name was Princess
Rimbut, was suffering from one of the caltrops which he himself
had planted. He therefore extracted it from her foot, so that she
recovered, and the king, in order to reward Si Laboh, gave him the
Princess in marriage.
"Now when they had been married a long time, and had got two children,
Si Laboh endeavoured to persuade his wife to accompany him on a visit
to his own country. To this the Princess replied 'Yes; but if I go
you must promise never to add to the dish any young tree-shoots at
meal-time.' [280]
"On this they started, and at the end of the first day's journey
they halted and sat down to eat. But Si Laboh had forgotten the
injunctions of his wife, and put young tree-shoots into the dish with
his rice. Then his wife protested and said, 'Did I not tell you not
to put young tree-shoots into your food?' But Si Laboh was obstinate,
and merely replied, 'What do I care?' so that his wife was turned
back into an elephant and ran off into the jungle. Then Si Laboh wept
and followed her, but she refused to return as she had now become
an elephant. Yet he followed her for a whole day, but she would not
return to him, and he then returned homewards with his children.
"This is all that is known about the origin of elephants who are
human beings."
A Malay charm which was given me (at Labu) to serve as a protection
against elephants (pendinding gajah) gives the actual name of the
Elephant King--
"O Grandfather Moyang Kaban,
Destroy not your own grandchildren."
Ghost elephants (gajah kramat) are not uncommon. They are popularly
believed to be harmless, but invulnerable, and are generally supposed
to exhibit some outward and visible sign of their sanctity, such as
a stunted tusk or a shrunken foot. They are the tutelary genii of
certain localities, and when they are killed the good fortune of the
neighbourhood is supposed to depart too. Certain it is, that when
one of these ghost elephants was shot at Klang a year or two ago,
it did not succumb until some fifty or sixty rifle-bullets had been
poured into it, and its death was followed by a fall in the local
value of coffee and coffee land, from which the district took long
to recover. [281]
A ghost elephant is very often thought to be the guardian spirit
of some particular shrine--an idea that is common throughout the
Peninsula.
Other general ideas about the elephant are as follows:--
"Elephants are said to be very frightened if they see a tree stump that
has been felled at a great height from the ground, as some trees which
have high spreading buttresses are cut, because they think that giants
must have felled it, and as ordinary-sized men are more than a match
for them they are in great dread of being caught by creatures many
times more powerful than their masters. Some of the larger insects of
the grasshopper kind are supposed to be objects of terror to elephants,
while the particularly harmless little pangolin (Manis pentadactyla)
is thought to be able to kill one of these huge beasts by biting its
foot. The pangolin, by the bye, is quite toothless. Another method in
which the pangolin attacks and kills elephants is by coiling itself
tightly around the end of the elephant's trunk, and so suffocating
it. This idea is also believed in by the Singhalese, according to
Mr. W. T. Hornaday's Two Years in the Jungle." [282]
The foregoing passage refers to Perak, but similar ideas are common in
Selangor, and they occur no doubt, with local variations, in every
one of the Malay States. Selangor Malays tell of the scaring of
elephants by the process of drawing the slender stem of the bamboo
down to the ground and cutting off the top of it, when it springs
back to its place.
The story of the "pangolin" is also told in Selangor with additional
details. Thus it is said that the "Jawi-jawi" tree (a kind of banyan)
is always avoided by elephants because it was once licked by the
armadillo. The latter, after licking it, went his way, and "the
elephant coming up was greatly taken aback by the offensive odour,
and swore that he would never go near the tree again. He kept his
oath, and his example has been followed by his descendants, so that
to this day the 'Jawi-jawi' is the one tree in the forest which the
elephant is afraid to approach." [283]
The following directions for hunting the elephant were given me by
Lebai Jamal, a famous elephant hunter of Lingging, near the Sungei
Ujong border:--
"When you first meet with the spoor of elephant or rhinoceros, observe
whether the foot-hole contains any dead wood, (then) take the twig of
dead wood, together with a ball of earth as big as a maize-cob taken
from the same foot-hole (if there is only one of you, one ball will
do, if there are three of you, three balls will be wanted, if seven,
seven balls, but not more). Then roll up your ball of earth and the
twig together in a tree-leaf, breathe upon it, and recite the charm
(for blinding the elephant's eyes), the purport of which is that if
the quarry sees, its eyesight shall be destroyed, and if it looks,
its eyesight shall be dimmed, by the help of God, the prophet, and
the medicine-man, who taught the charm.
"Now slip your ball of earth into your waistband just over the navel,
and destroy the scent of your body and your gun. To do this, take
a bunch of certain leaves [284] (daun sa-cherek), together with
stem-leaves of the betel-vine (kerapak sirih), leaves of the wild
camphor (chapa), and leaves of the club-gourd (labu ayer puteh),
break their midribs with your left hand, shut your eyes, and say
'As these tree leaves smell, so may my body (and gun) be scented.'
"When the animal is dead, beat it with an end of black cloth, repeating
the charm for driving away the 'mischief' (badi) from the carcase,
which charm runs as follows:--
"Badiyu, Mother of Mischief, Badi Panji, Blind Mother,
I know the origin from which you sprang, [285]
Three drops of Adam's blood were the origin from which you sprang,
Mischief of Earth, return to Earth,
Mischief of Ant-heap, return to Ant-heap,
Mischief of Elephant, return to Elephant, [286]
Mischief of Wood, return to Wood,
Mischief of Water, return to Water,
Mischief of Stone, return to Stone
And injure not my person.
By the virtue of my Teacher,
You may not injure the children of the race of Man."
The perquisites of the Pawang (magician) are to be "a little black
cloth and a little white cloth," and the only special taboo mentioned
by Lebai Jamal was "on no account to let the naked skin rub against
the skin of the slain animal."
Before leaving the subject of elephants, I may add that Raja Ja`far
(of Beranang in Selangor) told me that Lebai Jamal, when charged by an
elephant or rhinoceros, would draw upon the ground with his finger a
line which the infuriated animal was never able to cross. This line,
he said, was called the Baris Laksamana, or the "Admiral's Line,"
and the knowledge of how to draw it was naturally looked upon as a
great acquisition.
The Tiger
"The Tiger is sometimes believed to be a man or demon in the form
of a wild beast, and to the numerous aboriginal superstitions which
attach to this dreaded animal Muhammadanism has added the notion which
connects the Tiger with the Khalif Ali. One of Ali's titles throughout
the Moslem world is 'the Victorious Lion of the Lord,' and in Asiatic
countries, where the lion is unknown, the tiger generally takes the
place of the 'king of beasts.'" [287]
But the anthropomorphic ideas of the Malays about the Tiger go yet
farther than this. Far away in the jungle (as I have several times
been told in Selangor) the tiger-folk (no less than the elephants)
have a town of their own, where they live in houses, and act in every
respect like human beings. In the town referred to their house-posts
are made of the heart of the Tree-nettle (t'ras jelatang), and their
roofs thatched with human hair--one informant added that men's bones
were their only rafters, and men's skins their house walls--and there
they live quietly enough until one of their periodical attacks of
fierceness (mengganas) comes on and causes them to break bounds and
range the forest for their chosen prey.
There are several of these tiger-villages or "enclosures" in the
Peninsula, the chief of them being Gunong Ledang (the Mount Ophir
of Malacca), just as Pasummah is the chief of such localities in
Sumatra. [288] So too, from Perak, Sir W. E. Maxwell writes in 1881:--
"A mischievous tiger is said sometimes to have broken loose from its
pen or fold (pechah kandang). This is in allusion to an extraordinary
belief that, in parts of the Peninsula, there are regular enclosures
where tigers possessed by human souls live in association. During
the day they roam where they please, but return to the kandang at
night." [289]
Various fables ascribe to the tiger a human origin. One of these,
taken down by me word for word from a Selangor Malay, is intended to
account for the tiger's stripes. The gist of it ran as follows:--
"An old man picked up a boy in the jungle with a white skin, green
eyes, and very long nails. Taking the boy home his rescuer named him
Muhammad Yatim (i.e. 'Muhammad the fatherless'), and when he grew
up sent him to school, where he behaved with great cruelty to his
schoolfellows, and was therefore soundly beaten by his master ('Toh
Saih Panjang Janggut, i.e. 'Toh Saih Long-beard), who used a stick made
of a kind of wood called los [290] to effect the chastisement. At the
first cut the boy leapt as far as the doorway; at the second he leapt
to the ground, at the third he bounded into the grass, at the fourth
he uttered a growl, and at the fifth his tail fell down behind him
and he went upon all fours, whereat his master (improvising a name to
curse him by), exclaimed, 'This is of a truth God's tiger! (Harimau
Allah). Go you,' he added, addressing the tiger, 'to the place where
you will catch your prey--the borderland between the primeval forest
and the secondary forest-growth, and that between the secondary
forest-growth and the plain--catch there whomsoever you will, but
see that you catch only the headless. Alter no jot of what I say,
or you shall be consumed by the Iron of the Regalia, and crushed by
the sanctity of the thirty divisions of the Koran.'" Hence the tiger
is to this day compelled to "ask for" his prey, and uses divination
(bertenung), as all men know, for the purpose of discovering whether
his petition has yet been granted.
Hence, too, he carries on his hide to this very day the mark of the
stripes with which he was beaten at school.
The method of divination said to be practised by the tiger is as
follows: The tiger lies down and gazes (bertenung) at leaves which he
takes between his paws, and whenever he sees the outline of a leaf
take the shape of one of his intended victims, without the head, he
knows it to be the sign that that victim has been "granted" to him,
in accordance with the very terms of his master's curse.
I once asked (at Labu) how it was known that the tiger used divination,
and was told this story of a man who had seen it:--
"A certain Malay had been working, together with his newly-married
wife, in the rice-fields at Labu, and on his stepping aside at
noon into the cool of the forest, he saw a tiger lying down among
the underwood apparently gazing at something between its paws. By
creeping stealthily nearer he was able at length to discern the object
at which the tiger was gazing, and it proved to be, to his intense
horror, a leaf which presented the lineaments of his wife, lacking
only the head. Hurrying back to the rice-field he at once warned the
neighbours of what he had seen, and implored them to set his wife in
their midst and escort her homeward. To this they consented, but yet,
in spite of every precaution, the tiger broke through the midst of
them and killed the woman before it could be driven off. The bereaved
husband thereupon requested them to leave him alone with the body
and depart, and when they had done so, he took the body in his arms,
and so lay down embracing it, with a dagger in either hand. Before
sunset the tiger returned to its kill, and leapt upon the corpse,
whereupon the husband stabbed it to the heart, so that the points of
the daggers met, and killed it on the spot."
The power of becoming a man- or were-tiger (as it has sometimes
been called), is supposed to be confined to one tribe of Sumatrans,
the Korinchi Malays, many of whom are to be met with in the Malay
Native States. This belief is very strongly held, and on one occasion,
when I asked some Malays at Jugra how it could be proved that the man
really became a tiger, they told me the case of a man some of whose
teeth were plated with gold, and who had been accidentally killed
in the tiger stage, when the same gold plating was discovered in the
tiger's mouth. [291]
Of the strength of the Malay belief in were-tigers Mr. Clifford
writes:--
"The existence of the Malayan Loup Garou to the native mind is a fact,
and not a mere belief. The Malay knows that it is true. Evidence, if
it be needed, may be had in plenty; the evidence, too, of sober-minded
men, whose words in a Court of Justice would bring conviction to the
mind of the most obstinate jurymen, and be more than sufficient to
hang the most innocent of prisoners. The Malays know well how Haji
`Abdallah, the native of the little state of Korinchi in Sumatra, was
caught naked in a tiger trap, and thereafter purchased his liberty
at the price of the buffaloes he had slain while he marauded in the
likeness of a beast. They know of the countless Korinchi men who have
vomited feathers, after feasting upon fowls, when for the nonce they
had assumed the forms of tigers; and of those other men of the same
race who have left their garments and their trading packs in thickets
whence presently a tiger has emerged. All these things the Malays know
have happened, and are happening to-day, in the land in which they
live, and with these plain evidences before their eyes, the empty
assurances of the enlightened European that Were-Tigers do not, and
never did exist, excite derision not unmingled with contempt." [292]
Writing on the same theme, Sir Frank Swettenham says:--
"Another article of almost universal belief is that the people of a
small State in Sumatra called Korinchi have the power of assuming at
will the form of a tiger, and in that disguise they wreak vengeance
on those they wish to injure. Not every Korinchi man can do this,
but still the gift of this strange power of metamorphosis is pretty
well confined to the people of the small Sumatran State. At night
when respectable members of society should be in bed, the Korinchi man
slips down from his hut, and, assuming the form of a tiger, goes about
'seeking whom he may devour.'
"I have heard of four Korinchi men arriving in a district of Perak,
and that night a number of fowls were taken by a tiger. The strangers
left and went farther up country, and shortly after only three of
them returned and stated that a tiger had just been killed, and they
begged the local headman to bury it.
"On another occasion some Korinchi men appeared and sought hospitality
in a Malay house, and there also the fowls disappeared in the night,
and there were unmistakable traces of the visit of a tiger, but the
next day one of the visitors fell sick, and shortly after vomited
chicken-feathers.
"It is only fair to say that the Korinchi people strenuously deny
the tendencies and the power ascribed to them, but aver that they
properly belong to the inhabitants of a district called Chenâku in
the interior of the Korinchi country. Even there, however, it is only
those who are practised in the elemu sehir, the occult arts, who are
thus capable of transforming themselves into tigers, and the Korinchi
people profess themselves afraid to enter the Chenâku district." [293]
There are many stories about ghost tigers (rimau kramat), which are
generally supposed to have one foot a little smaller than the others
(kaki tengkis). During my stay in the Langat district I was shown
on more than one occasion the spoor of a ghost tiger. This happened
once near Sepang village, on a wet and clayey bridle-track, where
the unnatural smallness of one of the feet was very conspicuous. Such
tigers are considered invulnerable, but harmless to man, and are looked
upon generally as the guardian spirits of some sacred spot. One of
these sacred spots was the shrine (kramat) of 'Toh Kamarong, about
two miles north of Sepang village. This shrine, it was alleged, was
guarded by a white ghost elephant and ghost tiger, who ranged the
country round but never harmed anybody. One day, however, a Chinaman
from the neighbouring pepper plantations offered at this shrine a
piece of pork, which, however acceptable it might have been to a
Chinese saint, so incensed the orthodox guardians of this Muhammadan
shrine that one of them (the ghost tiger) fell upon the Chinaman and
slew him before he could return to his house.
By far the most celebrated of these ghost tigers, however, were the
guardians of the shrine at the foot of Jugra Hill, which were formerly
the pets of the Princess of Malacca (Tuan Putri Gunong Ledang). Local
report says that this princess left her country when it was taken
by the Portuguese, and established herself on Jugra Hill, a solitary
hill on the southern portion of the Selangor coast, which is marked
on old charts as the "False Parcelar" hill.
The legend which connects the name of this princess with Jugra Hill
was thus told [294] by Mr. G. C. Bellamy (formerly of the Selangor
Civil Service).
"Bukit Jugra (Jugra Hill) in its isolated position, and conspicuous
as it is from the sea, could scarcely escape being an object of
veneration to the uneducated Malay mind. The jungle which clothes its
summit and sides is supposed to be full of hantus (demons or ghosts),
and often when talking to Malays in my bungalow in the evening have
our discussions been interrupted by the cries of the langswayer (a
female birth-demon) in the neighbouring jungle, or the mutterings
of the bajang (a familiar spirit) as he sat on the roof-tree. But
the 'Putri' (Princess) of Gunong Ledang holds the premier position
amongst the fabulous denizens of the jungle on the hill, and it is
strange that places so far apart as Mount Ophir and Bukit Jugra should
be associated with one another in traditionary lore. The story runs
that this estimable lady, having disposed of her husband by pricking
him to death with needles, [295] decided thenceforth to live free
from the restrictions of married life. She was thus able to visit
distant lands, taking with her a cat [296] of fabulous dimensions
as her sole attendant. This cat appears to have been a most amiable
and accommodating creature, for on arriving at Jugra he carried the
Princess on his back to the top of the hill. Here the lady remained
for some time, and during her stay constructed a bathing-place for
herself. Even to this day she pays periodical visits to Jugra Hill,
and although she herself is invisible to mortal eye, her faithful
attendant, in the shape of a handsome tiger, is often to be met with as
he prowls about the place at night. He has never been known to injure
any one, and is reverently spoken of as a rimau kramat (ghost tiger)."
To the above story Mr. C. H. A. Turney (then Senior District Officer
and stationed at Jugra) added the following:--
"The Princess and the stories about her and the tiger are well known,
and the latter are related from mother to daughter in Langat.
"There are, however, they say, one or two omissions; instead of one
tiger there were two, the real harimau kramat and an ambitious young
tiger who would also follow the Princess in her round of visits. This
brute came to an untimely and ignominious end (as he deserved to) at
the hands of one Innes, who was disturbed whilst reading a newspaper,
and this can be verified by Captain Syers.
"The other tiger jogged along gaily with his phantom mistress, and
made night hideous with his howlings and prowlings all about the
Jugra Hill. He was really kramat, and was said to have been shot at
by several Malays, and the present Sergeant-Major Allie, now stationed
at Kuala Lumpur, can vouch for this." [297]
I myself collected at the time the following extra details:--
"The local version of the legend about the kramat at the foot of Jugra
Hill runs somewhat as follows:--Once upon a time one Nakhoda Ragam was
travelling with his wife (who is apparently to be identified with the
Princess of Malacca, Tuan Putri Gunong Ledang) in a boat (sampan),
when the latter pricked him to death with a needle (mati di-chuchok
jarum). His blood flooded the boat (darah-nya hanyut dalam sampan),
and presently the woman in the boat was hailed by a vessel sailing
past her. 'What have you got in that boat?' said the master of the
vessel, and the Princess replied: 'It is only spinach-juice' (kuah
bayam). She was therefore allowed to proceed, and landed at the foot
of Jugra Hill, where she buried all that yet remained of her husband,
which consisted of only one thigh (paha). [298] She also took ashore
her two cats, which were in the boat with her, and which, turning into
ghost tigers, became the guardians of this now famous shrine." [299]
Tigers are naturally too fierce to be tracked by the Malays, and
are usually caught in specially constructed traps (penjara rimau),
or killed by a self-acting gun or spear-trap (b'lantek s'napang,
b'lantek terbang, b'lantek parap, etc.); but even in this case the
Pawang explains to the tiger that it was not he but Muhammad who set
the trap. There are, however, as might be expected, a great number of
charms intended to protect the devotee in various ways from the tiger's
claws and teeth. Of these I will give one or two typical specimens.
Sometimes a charm is used to keep the tiger at a distance (penjauh
rimau):--
"Ho, Bersenu! Ho, Berkaih!
I know the origin from which you sprang;
(It was) Sheikh Abuniah Lahah Abu Kasap.
Your navel originated from the centre of your crown,
Your breasts are [to be seen] in [the spoor of] your
fore-feet. [300]
May you go wide (of me) as the Seven Tiers of Heaven,
May you go wide (of me) as the Seven Tiers of Earth;
If you do not go wide,
You shall be a rebel unto God," etc.
Sometimes the desired effect is expected to be obtained by a charm
for locking the tiger's jaws:--
"Ho, Sir Cruncher! Ho, Sir Muncher!
Let the twig break under the weight of the wild goose.
Fast shut and locked be (your jaws), by virtue of `Ali Mustapah,
OM. Thus I break (the tusks of) all beasts that are tusked,
By virtue of this Prayer from the Land of Siam." [301]
The next specimen is described as a "charm for fascinating" (striking
fear into) a "tiger and hardening one's own heart":--
"O Earth-Shaker, rumble and quake!
Let iron needles be my body-hairs,
Let copper needles be my body-hairs!
Let poisonous snakes be my beard,
A crocodile my tongue,
And a roaring tiger in the dimple of my chin.
Be my voice the trumpet of an elephant,
Yea, like unto the roar of the thunderbolt.
May your lips be fast closed and your teeth clenched;
And not till the Heavens and the Earth are moved
May your heart be moved
To be wroth with or to seek to destroy me.
By the virtue of 'There is no god but God,'" etc.
To which may be added--
"Kun! Payah Kun!
Let (celestial) splendour reside in my person.
Whosoever talks of encountering me,
A cunning Lion shall be his opponent.
O all ye Things that have life
Endure not to confront my gaze!
It is I who shall confront the gaze of you,
By the virtue of 'There is no god but God.'"
When tigers were wounded, it was said (in Selangor) that they would
doctor themselves with ubat tasak, which is the name generally
given to a sort of poultice used by those who have just undergone
circumcision. And when a tiger was killed a sort of public reception
was formerly always accorded to him on his return to the village.
Though I have not seen the actual reception (generally miscalled a
"wake"), I once saw near Kajang in Selangor a tiger which had been
prepared for the ceremony. The animal was propped up on all fours
as if alive, and his mouth kept open by propping the roof with a
stick. It was unfortunately impossible for me to wait for the ceremony,
but from a description which I received afterwards, it was evidently
regarded as a sort of "reception" given by the people of the village
to a live and powerful war-chief or champion (hulubalang) who had
come to pay them a visit, the dancing and fencing which takes place
on such occasions being intended for his entertainment.
One of these ceremonies, which took place in Jugra in Selangor,
was thus described:--
A Tiger's Wake
"At 10 A.M. a great noise of rejoicing, with drums and gongs,
approaching Jugra by the river, was heard, and on my questioning
the people, I was told Raja Yakob had managed to shoot a tiger
with a spring gun behind Jugra Hill, and was bringing it in state
to the Sultan. I went over to the Sultan's at Raja Yakob's request
to see the attendants on the slaughter of a tiger. The animal was
supported by posts and fastened in an attitude as nearly as possible
approaching the living. Its mouth was forced open, its tongue allowed
to drop on one side, and a small rattan attached to its upper jaw was
passed over a pole held by a man behind. This finished, two swords
were produced and placed crosswise, and a couple of Panglimas [302]
selected for the dance; the gongs and drums were beaten at a quick
time, the man holding the rattan attached to the tiger's head pulled
it, moving the head up and down, and the two Panglimas, after making
their obeisance to the Sultan, rushed at their swords, and holding
them in their hands commenced a most wild and exciting dance. They
spun around on one leg, waving their swords, then bounded forward and
made a thrust at the tiger, moving back quickly with the point of the
weapon facing the animal; they crawled along the ground and sprung over
it uttering defiant yells, they cut and parried at supposed attacks,
finally throwing down their weapons and taunting the dead beast by
dancing before it unarmed. This done, Inas told me the carcase was
at my disposal.
"The death of the tiger now establishes the fact of the existence
of tigers here, for asserting which I have been pretty frequently
laughed at. However this is not the Jugra pest, a brute whose death
would be matter for general rejoicing, the one now destroyed being
a tigress 8 feet long and 2 feet 8 inches high." [303]
I may add that both the claws and whiskers of tigers are greatly
sought after as charms, and are almost invariably stolen from a tiger
when one is killed by a European. I have also seen at Klang a charm
written on tiger's skin.
The Deer [304]
Anthropomorphic ideas are held by the Malays almost as strongly in
the case of the Deer as of any other animal.
The Deer is, by all Malays, believed to have sprung from a man who
suffered from a severe ulcer or abscess (chabuk) on the leg, (which
is supposed to have left its trace on the deer's legs to this day). Of
the Perak form of this legend Sir William Maxwell writes as follows:--
"The deer (rusa) is sometimes believed to be the metamorphosed body
of a man who has died of an abscess in the leg (chabuk), because it
has marks on the legs which are supposed to resemble those caused by
the disease mentioned. Of course there are not wanting men ready to
declare that the body of a man who has died of chabuk has been seen
to rise from the grave and to go away into the forest in the shape
of a deer." [305]
The Selangor legend is practically identical with that current
in Perak.
The deer are frequently addressed, in the charms used by the hunters,
exactly as if they were human beings, e.g.--
"If you wish to wear bracelets and rings
Stretch out your two fore-feet."
These rings and bracelets are of course the nooses which depend from
the toils.
In a charm of similar import we find:--
"Ho, Crown Prince (Raja Muda) with your Speckled Princess
(Putri Dandi),
Rouse you quickly (from your slumbers)
And clasp (round your neck) King Solomon's necklace."
I may add that in some places the Pawang (magician) will himself first
enter the toils, probably with the object of deceiving the stag as
to their nature and purpose.
The ceremonies for hunting deer are somewhat intricate, and it
will perhaps be best to commence by giving a general description of
deer-catching as practised by the Malays.
"This pastime" [306] (deer-catching) "is one the Malay delights
in. After a rainy night, deer may be easily traced to their lair by
their footprints, and as they remain stationary by day the hunters
have ample time to arrange their apparatus. When the hiding-place
is discovered all the young men of the kampong [307] assemble,
and the following ceremony is performed before they sally out on
the expedition: Six or eight coils of rattan rope, about an inch in
diameter, are placed on a triangle formed with three rice-pounders,
and the oldest of the company, usually an experienced sportsman, places
a cocoa-nut shell filled with burning incense in the centre, and taking
sprigs of three bushes, viz. the jellatang, sapunie, and sambon [308]
plants (these, it is supposed, possess extraordinary virtues), he
walks mysteriously round the coils, beating them with the sprigs, and
erewhile muttering some gibberish, which, if possessing any meaning,
the sage keeps wisely to himself. During the ceremony the youths
of the village look on with becoming gravity and admiration. It is
believed that the absence of this ceremony would render the expedition
unsuccessful, the deer would prove too strong for the ropes, and the
wood demons frustrate their sport by placing insurmountable obstacles
in their way. Much faith appears to be placed in the ceremony. Each
coil referred to above is sixty to seventy fathoms long, and to the
rope running nooses, made also of rattan rope, are attached about
three feet apart from each other. On reaching the thicket wherein
the deer are concealed, stakes are driven into the ground a few
feet apart in a straight line, the coils are then opened out, and
the rope attached to the stakes, two or three feet above the ground,
with the nooses hanging down, and two of the party conceal themselves
near the stakes armed with knives for the purpose of despatching
the deer when entangled in the nooses. The remainder of the hunters
arrange themselves on the opposite side of the thicket and advance
towards it, shouting and yelling at the top of their voices. The deer,
startled from their rest, spring to their feet and naturally flee from
the noise towards the nooses, and in a short time are entangled in
them. As they struggle to escape, the concealed hunters rush out and
despatch them. Occasionally the flight is prolonged till the major
party arrives, and then the noble creatures soon fall beneath the
spears and knives of their assailants. The animal is divided between
the sportsmen." [309]
The "gibberish" employed by the deer Pawangs when the latter enter
the jungle is intended to induce the wood demons and earth demons to
recede, or at least to dissuade them from active interference with the
proceedings. Charms are also employed by the Pawang, as he proceeds,
from time to time, to "ask for" a tree (to which the toils may be
fastened); to "ask for" a deer; to unroll and suspend the toils; to
call upon the spirits (who are the herdsmen of the deer) to drive
the latter down to meet the dogs; to turn back the deer when they
have got away; to "prick" or urge on the dogs, or make them bark;
to stop wild dogs from barking in the jungle, or those of the pack
from barking at the wrong moment; to deceive the deer as to the
reality of the toils used by the hunters; to deceive the spirits as
to the identity of the hunting-party; and, finally, to drive out the
"mischief" (badi) from the carcase of the slain animal; examples of
all of which will be found in the course of the next few pages.
The first charm which I give is one used in "asking for deer":--
"Ho! master of me your slave, Sidi the Dim-eyed,
Si Lailanang and Si Laigan his brother,
Si Deripan, Si Baung, Si Bakar,
Si Songsang (Sir Topsy Turvy), Si Berhanyut (Sir Floater),
Si Pongking, Si Temungking!
I demand Deer, a male and a female,
Blunt-hoofed, hard-browed,
Long-eared, tight-waisted,
Shut-eyed, shaggy-maned, spotted;
If not the shut-eyed, the shaggy-maned and the spotted,
The "rascal," the starveling, the mere skeleton.
Most fervently we beg this boon, by the light of this very
same day,
By virtue of the 'kiraman katibin.' [310]
And here is the token of my petition." [311]
The directions proceed:--
"On first entering the jungle, say--
"Ho, Hantu Bakar, Jembalang Bakar,
Turn a little aside,
That I may let loose my body-guard."
(By which the "pack" is no doubt intended.)
"When you meet the slot, examine the slot. If it is a little shortened
on one side, the quarry is in some danger; if it has gone lame of
one hoof, it is a sign that it will be killed within seven days.
"After entering the jungle, and finding the dogs, wait for the dogs
to bark, and then give out this 'cooee'--
"Ho! Si Lanang, Si Lambaun,
Si Ketor, Si Becheh!
Ye Four Herdsmen of the Deer,
Come ye down to meet the dogs.
And refuse not to come down
Or ye shall be rebels unto God, etc.
It is not I who am huntsman,
It is Pawang Sidi (wizard Sidi) that is huntsman;
It is not I whose dogs these are,
It is Pawang Sakti (the 'magic wizard') whose dogs these are;
Let Dang Durai cross the water,
It is only a civet-cat that is left for me.
Grant this by virtue of my teacher, 'Toh Raja--
May his art be yet more powerful in my hands. [312]
By virtue of 'There is no god but God,'" etc.
A deer Pawang ('Che Indut) also gave me this charm for recital when
the support (lit. "shoulder") of the noose is being cut (for which
purpose it would appear that a young tree of the kind called "Delik"
is usually taken).
"The Delik's branches spread out horizontally (at the top), [313]
Chop at it, and it will produce roots.
Though its bark is destroyed, a cudgel is still left for people's
bones,
Even though it be worked on by the charm Kalinting Bakar." [314]
From the same source I obtained this charm, addressed to the Deer,
but intended for fixing the scent (menetapkan bau), and for suspending
the toils (memasang jerat):--
"Teng [315] [stands for] the satengteng flower,
Ascend ye the twin stream.
If you delight in bracelets and rings
Push forward your two fore-feet.
"When setting the nooses (bubohkan perindu jerat) say, addressing
the deer as before:--
"Be filled with yearning, be filled with longing,
As the Holy Basil grows even to a rock,
Be filled with yearning as you sit, be filled with yearning as
you go,
Fast-bound by love of this noose of mine."
The directions given me by another Pawang commenced with a charm for
emboldening the dogs, after which the account proceeds:--
"When you have finished (the charm referred to), take seven steps
forward, leaving the toils behind you, and standing erect, look
forward and call as follows:--