"O all ye Saids (lawful descendants of the Prophet),

Unto you, my Lords, belong the Deer,

Si Lambaun was the origin of the Deer,

Si Lanang is their Herdsman,

Drive ye the Deer into our toils.

This causeway of rock (titian batu) is your high road and

market-square,

The resort of innumerable people.

Follow, follow in long procession,

And let the "Assembly"-Flower unfold its petals.

Come in procession, come in succession,

Our toils have come to summon you to the spot.

Ho, Deer that are unfortunate, Deer that are curst,

Enter this path of mine which is empty of men.

On the left stand spearmen,

On the right stand spearmen,

And whichever of (those two) ways you go,

By that self-same way will you be turned back.

"Now proceed till you meet the stag, and as he rouses himself from

slumber, say:--

"Ho, Crown Prince with your Speckled Princess,

Rouse you in haste and slip on King Solomon's royal breast

ornament.

Receive it, receive it in your turn,

And do ye (huntsmen) shout 'Bi' again and again.

"[Here the spearmen right and left shout in concert.]

"So, too, when spearing the deer, say--

"It is not I who spear you,

It is Pawang Sidi who spears you.

"When you have secured a deer, flick (kebaskan) the carcase thrice

in a downward direction with a black cloth or with a leafy spray (if

you will), such as the deer feed upon, for instance with the sendayan

(or sendereian, a kind of sedge), or with fern-shoots, and call out:--

"O Si Lanang, Si Lambaun,

Si Ketor, Si Becheh, who are Four Persons,

Take back your own share (of the carcase). [316]

"Here 'take the representative parts, pierce them with a rattan line,

and suspend them from a tree.'"

But the fullest account of this ceremony (of driving out the mischief

from the carcase) runs as follows:--

"When you have caught the deer, cast out the mischief from it (buang

dia-punya badi). To effect this, take a black jacket such as can cast

out this mischief (if no black jacket is obtainable, take the branch

of any tree), and stroke (the carcase) from the head downwards to

the feet and the rump, saying as you do so:--

"Ho Badi Serang, Badi Mak Buta,

Si Panchor Mak Tuli,

It is not I who cast out these mischiefs,

It is the Junior Dogboy who casts them out.

It is not I who cast out these mischiefs,

It is the Dogboy Rukiah who casts them out.

It is not I who cast out these mischiefs,

It is Mukaël [317] (Michael) who casts them out.

It is not I who cast out these mischiefs,

It is Israfel who casts them out.

It is not I who cast out these mischiefs,

It is Azrael who casts them out.

It is not I who cast out these mischiefs,

It is Mukarael (?) who casts them out.

I know the origin of these mischiefs,

They are the offspring of the Jin Ibni Ujan, [318]

Who dwell in the open spaces and hill-locked basins.

Return ye to your open spaces and hill-locked basins,

And do me no harm or scathe.

I know the origin from which you spring,

From the offspring of the Jin Ibni Ujan do ye spring.

"Here take small portions of his eyes, ears, mouth, nose, hind-feet,

fore-feet, hair (of his coat), liver, heart, spleen and horns (if it

be a stag), wrap them up in a leaf, and deposit them in the slot of

his approaching tracks, saying: 'O Mentala (Batara) Guru, one a month,

two a month, three a month, four a month, five a month, six a month,

seven a month (be the deer which fall) by night to you, by day to

me. One deer I take with me, and one I leave behind.'"

A deer Pawang named 'Che Indut gave me a charm for turning the deer

back upon their tracks, "though their flesh was torn to rags and their

bones well-becudgelled." It concluded with the following appeal to

the spirits:--

"Ho (ye Spirits) turn back my Deer!

If you do not turn them back,

At sea ye shall get no drink,

Ashore ye shall find no food.

By virtue of the word of God," etc.

I will conclude with the following charm, believed to be a means of

bringing the stag low:--

"Measure off three sticks (probably dead wood taken from the slot of

the deer, as in the case of the elephant), their length being measured

by the distance from the roof of your mouth to the teeth of the lower

jaw. Lay these sticks in a triangular form inside the slot of the

stag, press the left thumb downwards in the centre of the triangle,

and humble your heart. This will humble the deer's heart too."

The Mouse-deer or chevrotin is the "Brer Rabbit" of the Malays. It

figures in many proverbial sayings and romances, in which it is

credited with extraordinary sagacity, and is honoured by the title of

"Mentri B'lukar," the "Vizier of the (secondary) Forest-Growth." [319]

It is generally taken by means of a snare called tapah pelandok, but

sometimes by tapping on the ground with sticks (mengetok pelandok),

the sound of which is supposed to imitate the drumming of the buck's

fore-feet upon the ground in rutting-time, by which the attention of

the doe is attracted. Whatever the reason may be, there is no doubt

that the method is often successful.

When this "tapping" method is adopted, the charms used are similar

to those used for calling the big deer, e.g.--

"Arak-arak iring-iring

Kembang bunga si Panggil-Panggil,

Datang berarak, datang beriring,

Raja Suleiman datang memanggil.

Follow in procession, follow in succession,

The Assembly-flower has opened its petals.

Come in procession, come in succession,

King Solomon comes to summon you."

But at the end of the charm is added, "Ini-lah gong-nya," i.e. "This

is his (King Solomon's) gong."

The stick which is used may be of any kind of wood except a creeper,

and the best place for the operation is where the ground sounds

hollow when tapped. Either three, five, or seven leaves must, however,

be laid on the spot before the tapping is commenced.

The directions for setting the snare (jerat or tapah pelandok) were

taken down by me as follows:--

First look for a tree whose sap is viscid, and chop at it thrice

(with a cutlass). If the splinters fall, one the right and the other

the wrong way up (lit. one prone and the other supine), it is a bad

sign (though it is a good sign when one is setting a trap); for in

the case of a snare they must fall the wrong way up (supine).

When this is done, commence to set the snare near the foot of a tree,

at about a fathom's distance, and say:--

"As a cocoa-nut shell rocks to and fro

When filled with clay,

Avaunt ye, Jembalang and Badi,

That I may set this snare."

Next you say:--

"Ho, Sir 'Pointed-Hoof,'

Sir 'Sharp-Muzzle,'

Do you step upon this snare that I have spread

Within two days or three.

If you do not step upon this snare that I have spread

Within two days or three,

You shall be choked to death with blood in your throat,

You shall be in sore straits within the limits of your own

Big Jungle.

At sea you shall get no drink,

Ashore you shall get no food,

By virtue of," etc.

Hunting-Dogs

Hunting-dogs are spoken to continually as if they were human

beings. Several examples of this occur in the deer charms.

Thus we find the following passage addressed to the dogs:--

"Let not go the scent,

Formidable were you from the first;

Hot-foot, hot-foot, do you pursue,

If you do not pursue hot-foot,

I will minimise my benediction (lit. my 'Peace be with you').

If it (the deer) be a buck, you shall have him for a brother;

If it be a doe, you shall have her for a wife."

So too, again, after calling several dogs by name, the Pawang gets

together the accessories (leaves of the tukas and lenjuang, a brush

of leaves (sa-cherek) and a black cloth), and exclaims:--

"Bark, Sir Slender-foot; bark, Sir Brush-tail."

The Pawang generally tries to deceive the deer as to his ownership

of the hunting-dogs. Thus he will say:--

"It is not I whose dogs these are,

It is the magical deer Pawang whose dogs these are."

So, too, they are called by certain specific names (according to

their breed and colour), which are in several cases identical with

the names of the dogs with which the wild Spectre Huntsman (the

most terrible of all personified diseases in the Malay category)

hunts down his prey. [320]

Ugliness is by no means looked upon as a disadvantage, but rather

the opposite. An ugly dog is apparently formidable. Thus we find a

dog addressed as follows:--

"Let not go the scent (of the quarry)

As you were formidable (lit. ugly) [321] from the first."

Again, the description of the "good points" of some of these dogs

which is given in the Appendix would, if ugliness and formidability are

convertible terms, satisfy the most exacting whipper-in, the so-called

good points being for the most part a mere list of deformities. These

points, however, are merely the external sign of the Luck to which

dogs, as well as human beings, are believed to be born. In a fine

passage we are told:--

"From the seven Hills and the seven Valleys

Comes the intense barking of my Dogs.

My Dogs are Dogs of Luck,

Not Luck that is adventitious,

But Luck incarnate with their bodies.

Go tread upon the heaped and rotting leaves,

And never desert the scent."

Speaking of dog-lore generally, it may be remarked that though dogs

are very frequently kept by the Malays, it is considered unlucky to

keep them. "The dog ... is unlucky. He longs for the death of his

master, an event which will involve the slaying of animals at the

funeral feast, when the bones will fall to the dogs. When a dog is

heard howling at night, he is supposed to be thinking of the broken

bones (niat handak mengutib tulang patah)." [322]

Even the wild dogs in the jungle [323] are warned not to bark, and

are addressed as if they were human:--

"If you bark your windpipe shall burst,

If you smack your lips your tongue shall be docked.

If you come nearer, you shall break your leg;

Return to the big virgin jungle,

Return to your caverns and hill-locked basins,

To the stream which has no head-waters,

To the pond which was never dug,

To the waters which bear no passengers,

To the fountain-head which is [never] dry.

If you do not return, you shall die,

Cursed by the First Pen (i.e. the Human Tongue),

Pierced by the twig of a gomuti-palm, [324]

Impaled by a palm thatch-needle,

Transfixed by a porcupine's quill."

Bears and Monkeys

"The Bear [325] is believed to be the mortal foe of the Tiger, which

he sometimes defeats in single combat. (Bruang, the Malay word for

'bear,' has a curious resemblance to our word 'Bruin.' [326]) A story

is told of a tame bear which a Malay left in charge of his house and

of his sleeping child while he was absent from home. On his return

he missed his child, the house was in disorder, as if some struggle

had taken place, and the bear was covered with blood. Hastily drawing

the conclusion that the bear had killed and devoured the child, the

enraged father slew the animal with his spear, but almost immediately

afterwards he found the carcase of a tiger, which the faithful

bear had defeated and killed, and the child emerged unharmed from

the jungle, where she had taken refuge. It is unnecessary to point

out the similarity of this story to the legend of Beth-Gelert. It

is evidently a local version of the story of the Ichneumon and the

Snake in the Pancha-tantra." [327]

Monkeys and men have always been associated in native tradition,

and Malay folklore is no exception to the rule. Thus we get the

tradition of the great man-like ape, the Mawas (a reminiscence of

the orang-outang or mias of Borneo), which is said to make shelters

for itself in the forks of trees, and to be born with the blade of a

cutlass (woodknife) in place of the bone of the forearm, so that it is

able to cut down the undergrowth as it walks through the jungle. It

is believed, moreover, occasionally to carry off and mate with human

kind. [328]

The Siamang (Hylobates lar), [329] which walks on its hind-legs, is,

however, the species which is most commonly associated in legend with

the human race; in fact, it is not impossible that there may sometimes

have been a confusion between its name (siamang) and Semang, which is

the name of one of the aboriginal (Negrito) races of the interior. The

following Malay legend, which I took down at Labu in Selangor is

believed to explain its origin, and also that of the Bear: [330]--

Once upon a time her Highness the Princess Telan became the affianced

bride of Si Malim Bongsu. After the betrothal Si Malim Bongsu sailed

away and did not return when the period of the engagement, which was

fixed at from three to four months, came to an end.

Then Si Malim Panjang, elder brother of Si Malim Bongsu, decided to

take the place of his younger brother, and be married to the Princess

Telan. The latter, however, repelled his advances, and he therefore

attacked her savagely; but she turned herself into an ape (siamang)

and escaped to the jungle, so that Si Malim Panjang desisted from

pursuit. Then the ape climbed up into a pagar-anak tree which grew

on the sea-shore, and leaned over the sea, and there she chanted

these words:--

"O my dear Malim Bongsu,

You have broken your solemn promise and engagement,

And I have to take upon myself the form of an ape."

Now Si Malim Bongsu was passing at the time, and on recognising the

voice of the Princess Telan he took a blow-gun and shot her so that

she fell into the sea. Then he took rose-water and sprinkled it over

her, so that she resumed her natural shape, and they started to go

home together. Still, however, Si Malim Bongsu would not wed her, but

promised that he would do so when he came back from his next voyage,

whereupon the Princess chanted these words:--

"If you do not return within three months

You will find me turned into an ape."

The same course of events, however, happened as before. Malim Bongsu

did not return at the time appointed; his elder brother, Malim Panjang

once more attacked her, and, leaping towards an areca palm, she once

more became an ape, whereupon she chanted as before:--

"O my dear Malim Bongsu,

You have broken your solemn promise and engagement,

And I am forced to become an ape."

Again Malim Bongsu, as he passed by, heard and recognised her voice;

but upon learning that he had been for the second time the cause of

his Princess's troubles, he exclaimed, "Better were it for me were I

nothing but a big fish"; and leaping into the water he disappeared,

and was changed into a big fish as he desired.

Now the Princess's nurse (who was called "The Daughter of Sakembang

China") was at the same time transformed into a bear, and as they

were bathing at the time when they were surprised, and had not time

to wash off all the soap (rice-cosmetic), the white marks on the

breast and brows of the bear and on the breast and brows of the ape

(siamang) have remained unto this day.

Occasionally the opposite transformation is believed to take place,

some species of the monkey tribe being supposed to turn into fish.

Thus the k'ra (Macacus cynomolgus) is believed to develop into a

species of fish called senunggang, and of the fish called kalul (kalui

or kalue), Sir W. E. Maxwell writes: "The ikan kalul (is believed)

to be a monkey transformed. Some specially favoured observers have

seen monkeys half through the process of metamorphosis--half-monkey

and half-fish." [331] The species of monkey which is believed to

turn into the ikan kalul is, as I was told in Selangor, the b'rok or

"cocoa-nut monkey."

"Berhakim kapada brok" is a Malay proverbial expression which means,

"'To make the monkey judge,' or, 'to go to the monkey for justice.' A

fable is told by the Malays of two men, one of whom planted bananas

on the land of the other. When the fruit was ripe each claimed it,

but not being able to come to any settlement they referred the matter

to the arbitration of a monkey (of the large kind called brok). The

judge decided that the fruit must be divided; but no sooner was this

done than one of the suitors complained that the other's share was

too large. To satisfy him the monkey reduced the share of the other

by the requisite amount, which he ate himself. Then the second suitor

cried out that the share of the first was now too large. It had to be

reduced to satisfy him, the subtracted portion going to the monkey

as before. Thus they went on wrangling until the whole of the fruit

was gone, and there was nothing left to wrangle about. Malay judges,

if they are not calumniated, have been known to protract proceedings

until both sides have exhausted their means in bribes. In such cases

the unfortunate suitors are said to berhakim kapada brok." [332]

The Wild Pig and Other Animals

There are several superstitions about the Wild Boar which prove that

it was not always regarded as an unclean animal.

Of these the following recipe, which was given me by a Jugra (Selangor)

Malay, for turning brass into gold is the most remarkable:--

"Kill a wild pig and rip open its paunch. Sew up in this a quantity

of old 'scrap' brass, pile timber over it, burn it, and then leave

it alone until the grass has grown right over it. Then dig up the

gold." Again, certain wild boars are believed to carry on their tushes

a talisman of extraordinary power, which is called rantei babi, or

"Wild Boar's Chain." This chain consists, it is asserted, of three

links of various metals (gold, silver, and amalgam), and is hung up

on a shrub by the wild boar when he is enjoying his wallow, so that it

is occasionally stolen by Malays who know his habits. I may add that,

according to a Malay at Langat, the "were-tiger" (rimau jadi-jadian)

occasionally appears in the shape of a wild boar escaping from a grave,

in the centre of which may be afterwards seen the hole by which the

animal has escaped.

"Among the modern Malays avoidance of the flesh of swine and of

contact with anything connected with the unclean animal is, of course,

universal. No tenet of El-Islam is more rigidly enforced than this. It

is singular to notice, among a people governed by the ordinances of

the Prophet, traces of the observance of another form of abstinence

enjoined by a different religion. The universal preference of the

flesh of the Buffalo to that of the Ox in Malay countries is evidently

a prejudice bequeathed to modern times by a period when cow-beef was

as much an abomination to Malays as it is to the Hindus of India

at the present day. This is not admitted or suspected by ordinary

Malays, who would probably have some reason, based on the relative

wholesomeness of buffalo and cow-beef, to allege in defence of their

preference of the latter to the former." [333]

To the above I may add that it is invariably the flesh of the Buffalo,

and not that of the Ox, which is eaten sacrificially on the occasion

of festivities. [334] But the flesh of the so-called White (albino)

Buffalo (kerbau balar) is generally avoided as food, though I have

known it to be prescribed medicinally (as in the case of Raja Kahar, a

son of H.H. the Sultan of Selangor, the circumstances of whose illness

will be detailed elsewhere). [335] As might be expected, a story

is told by the Malays to account for this distinction. The general

outline of the tale is to the effect that a Malay boy (a mere child)

fell into the big rice-bin (kepok) in his parents' absence and was

suffocated by the rice. After some days the body began to decompose,

and the ooze emanating from the rice-bin was licked up by a buffalo

belonging to the boy's parents. The attention of these latter being

thus attracted to the rice-bin, they found therein the remains of

their child, and thereupon cursed the buffalo, which (we are led

to infer) became "white," and has remained so ever since. According

to one version, a ground-dove (tekukur) was implicated both in the

offence and the punishment which followed it. Wherefore to this day

no man eats of the flesh of either of the offenders.

Perhaps the most extraordinary transformation in which the Malays

implicitly believe is that of the Squirrel, which is supposed to be

developed from a large caterpillar called ulat sentadu. [336]

About the Cat there are many superstitions which show that it is

believed to possess supernatural powers. Thus it is supposed to be

lucky to keep cats because they long for a soft cushion to lie upon,

and so (indirectly) wish for the prosperity of their master. [337]

On the other hand, cats must be very carefully prevented from rubbing

up against a corpse, for it is said that on one occasion when this was

neglected, the badi or Evil Principle which resides in the cat's body

entered into the corpse, which thus became endowed with unnatural

life and stood up upon its feet. So too the soaking of the cat in

a pan of water until it is half-drowned is believed to produce an

abundance of rain. [338] It is, besides, believed to be extremely

unlucky to kill cats. Of this superstition Mr. Clifford says:--

"It is a common belief among Malays that if a cat is killed he who

takes its life will in the next world be called upon to carry and

pile logs of wood, as big as cocoa-nut trees, to the number of the

hairs on the beast's body. Therefore cats are not killed; but if they

become too daring in their raids on the hen-coop or the food rack,

they are tied to a raft and sent floating down stream, to perish

miserably of hunger. The people of the villages by which they pass

make haste to push the raft out again into mid-stream, should it in

its passage adhere to bank or bathing-hut, and on no account is the

animal suffered to land. To any one who thinks about it, this long

and lingering death is infinitely more cruel than one caused by a blow

from an axe; but the Malays do not trouble to consider such a detail,

and would care little if they did." [339]

Before leaving the subject of cats, I must mention the belief that the

"fresh-water fish called ikan belidah" was "originally a cat." Sir

W. E. Maxwell says that many Malays refuse to eat it for this reason,

and adds, "They declare that it squalls like a cat when harpooned,

and that its bones are very white and fine like a cat's hairs." [340] A

story is also sometimes told to account both for the general similarity

of habits of the cat and the tiger and for the fact that the latter,

unlike most of the Felidæ, is not a tree-climber. It is to the effect

that the cat agreed to teach the tiger its tricks, which it did,

with the exception of the art of climbing trees. The tiger, thinking

it had learnt all the cat's tricks, proceeded to attack its teacher,

when the cat escaped by climbing up a tree; so the tiger never learnt

how to climb and cannot climb trees to this day.

Even the smallest and commonest of mammals, such as Rats and Mice,

are the objects of many strange beliefs. Thus "clothes which have

been nibbled by rats or mice must not be worn again. They are sure

to bring misfortune, and are generally given away in charity." [341]

So too on the Selangor coast a mollusc called siput tantarang or

mentarang is believed to have sprung from a mouse; and many kinds of

charms, generally addressed to the "Prophet Joseph" (Nabi Yusuf), are

resorted to in order to drive away rats and mice from the rice-fields.

The following passage describes the general ideas about animal

superstitions which prevail on the east coast of the Peninsula:--

"The beliefs and superstitions of the Fisher Folk would fill many

volumes. They believe in all manner of devils and local sprites. They

fear greatly the demons that preside over animals, and will not

willingly mention the names of birds or beasts while at sea. Instead,

they call them all chêweh [342]--which, to them, signifies an

animal, though to others it is meaningless, and is supposed not to be

understanded of the beasts. To this word they tack on the sound which

each beast makes in order to indicate what animal is referred to;

thus the pig is the grunting chêweh, the buffalo the chêweh that says

'uak,' and the snipe the chêweh that cries 'kek-kek.' Each boat that

puts to sea has been medicined with care, many incantations and other

magic observances having been had recourse to, in obedience to the

rules which the superstitious people have followed for ages. After

each take the boat is 'swept' by the medicine man with a tuft of

leaves prepared with mystic ceremonies, which is carried at the bow

for the purpose. The omens are watched with exact care, and if they

be adverse no fishing-boat puts to sea that day. Every act in their

lives is regulated by some regard for the demons of the sea and air,

and yet these folk are nominally Muhammadans, and, according to that

faith, magic and sorcery, incantations to the spirits, and prayers to

demons, are all unclean things forbidden to the people. But the Fisher

Folk, like other inhabitants of the Peninsula, are Malays first and

Muhammadans afterwards. Their religious creed goes no more than skin

deep, and affects but little the manner of their daily life." [343]

3. VEGETATION CHARMS

The Vegetation Spirit of the Malays "follows in some vague and partial

way," to use Professor Tylor's words, from the analogy of the Animal

Spirit. It is difficult to say, without a more searching inquiry than

I have yet had the opportunity of making, whether Malay magicians

would maintain that all trees had souls (semangat) or not. All that we

can be certain of at present is that a good many trees are certainly

supposed by them to have souls, such, for instance, as the Durian,

the Cocoa-nut palm, and the trees which produce Eagle-wood (gharu),

Gutta Percha, Camphor, and a good many others.

What can be more significant than the words and actions of the men who

in former days would try and frighten the Durian groves into bearing;

or of the toddy-collector who addresses the soul of the Cocoa-nut

palm in such words as, "Thus I bend your neck, and roll up your hair;

and here is my ivory toddy-knife to help the washing of your face";

[344] or of the collectors of jungle produce who traffic in Eagle-wood,

Camphor, and Gutta (the spirits of the first two of which trees are

considered extremely powerful and dangerous) or, above all, of the

reapers who carry the "Rice-soul" home at harvest time?

A special point in connection with the Malay conception of the

vegetation soul perhaps requires particular attention, viz. the fact

that apparently dead and even seasoned timber may yet retain the

soul which animated it during its lifetime. Thus, the instructions

for the performance of the rites to be used at the launching of a

boat (which will be found below under the heading "The Sea, Rivers,

and Streams") [345] involve an invocation to the timbers of the boat,

which would therefore seem to be conceived as capable, to some extent,

of receiving impressions and communications made in accordance with

the appropriate forms and ceremonies.

So, too, a boat with a large knot in the centre of the bottom is

considered good for catching fish, and in strict conformity with

this idea is the belief that the natural excrescences (or knobs)

and deformities of trees are mere external evidences of an indwelling

spirit. So, too, the fruit of the cocoa-nut palm, when the shell lacks

the three "eyes" to which we are accustomed, is believed to serve in

warfare as a most valuable protection (pelias) against the bullets of

the enemy, and the same may be said in a minor degree of the joints of

"solid" bamboo (buluh tumpat) which are occasionally found, whilst to a

slightly different category belong the comparatively numerous examples

of "Tabasheer" (mineral concretions in the wood of certain trees),

which are so highly valued by the Malays for talismanic purposes. Such

trees as the Mali mali, Rotan jer'nang (Dragon's-blood rattan), Buluh

kasap (rough bamboo), etc., are all said to supply instances of the

concretions referred to, but the most famous of them all is without

doubt the so-called "cocoa-nut pearl," of which I quote the following

account from Dr. Denys's Descriptive Dictionary of British Malaya.

Cocoa-nut Pearls

The following remarks concerning these peculiar accretions are

extracted from Nature:--

"During my recent travels," Dr. Sidney Hickson writes to a scientific

contemporary, "I was frequently asked by the Dutch planters and others

if I had ever seen 'a cocoa-nut stone.' These stones are said to be

rarely found (1 in 2000 or more) in the perisperm of the cocoa-nut,

and when found are kept by the natives as a charm against disease and

evil spirits. This story of the cocoa-nut stone was so constantly

told me, and in every case without any variation in its details,

that I made every effort before leaving to obtain some specimens,

and eventually succeeded in obtaining two.

"One of these is nearly a perfect sphere, 14 mm. in diameter, and the

other, rather smaller in size, is irregularly pear-shaped. In both

specimens the surface is worn nearly smooth by friction. The spherical

one I have had cut into two halves, but I can find no concentric or

other markings on the polished cut surfaces.

"Dr. Kimmins has kindly submitted one-half to a careful chemical

analysis, and finds that it consists of pure carbonate of lime without

any trace of other salts or vegetable tissue.

"I should be very glad if any of your readers could inform me if

there are any of these stones in any of the museums, or if there is

any evidence beyond mere hearsay of their existence in the perisperm

of the cocoa-nut." [346]

On this letter Mr. Thiselton Dyer makes the following

remarks:--"Dr. Hickson's account of the calcareous concretions

occasionally found in the central hollow (filled with fluid--the

so-called 'milk') of the endosperm of the seed of the cocoa-nut is

extremely interesting. It appears to me a phenomenon of the same

order as tabasheer, to which I recently drew attention in Nature.

"The circumstances of the occurrence of these stones or 'pearls'

are in many respects parallel to those which attend the formation

of tabasheer. In both cases mineral matter in palpable masses is

withdrawn from solution in considerable volumes of fluid contained

in tolerably large cavities in living plants; and in both instances

they are monocotyledons.

"In the case of the cocoa-nut pearls the material is calcium carbonate,

and this is well known to concrete in a peculiar manner from solutions

in which organic matter is also present.

"In my note on tabasheer I referred to the reported occurrence of

mineral concretions in the wood of various tropical dicotyledonous

trees. Tabasheer is too well known to be pooh-poohed; but some

of my scientific friends express a polite incredulity as to the

other cases. I learn, however, from Prof. Judd, F.R.S., that he

has obtained a specimen of apatite found in cutting up a mass of

teak-wood. The occurrence of this mineral under these circumstances

has long been recorded; but I have never had the good fortune to see

a specimen." [347]

The Durian

The Durian tree (for an account of whose famous fruit the classical

description in Wallace's Malay Archipelago may be referred to) is a

semi-wild fruit-tree, whose stem frequently rises to the height of some

eighty or ninety feet before the branches are met with. It is generally

planted in groves, which are often to be found in the jungle when all

other traces of former human habitation have completely disappeared,

though even then its fruit, if tradition says true, is as keenly

fought over by the denizens of the forest (monkeys, bears, and tigers)

as ever it was by their temporary dispossessors. Interspersed among

the Durian trees will be found numerous varieties of orchard trees

of a less imperial height, amongst which may be named the Rambutan,

[348] Rambei, [349] Lansat, [350] Duku, [351] Mangostin, [352] and

many others. A small grove of these trees, which was claimed by the

late Sultan `Abdul Samad of Selangor, grew within about a mile of my

bungalow at Jugra, and I was informed that in years gone by a curious

ceremony (called Menyemah durian) was practised in order to make the

trees more productive. On a specially selected day, it was said,

the village would assemble at this grove, and (no doubt with the

usual accompaniment of the burning of incense and scattering of rice)

the most barren of the Durian trees would be singled out from the

rest. One of the local Pawangs would then take a hatchet (beliong)

and deliver several shrewd blows upon the trunk of the tree, saying:--

"Will you now bear fruit or not?

If you do not I shall fell you." [353]

To this the tree (through the mouth of a man who had been stationed for

the purpose in a Mangostin tree hard by) was supposed to make answer:--

"Yes, I will now bear fruit;

I beg you not to fell me." [354]

I may add that it was a common practice in the fruit season for the

boys who were watching for the fruit to fall (for which purpose they

were usually stationed in small palm-thatch shelters) to send echoing

through the grove a musical note, which they produced by blowing

into a bamboo instrument called tuang-tuang. I cannot, however,

say whether this custom now has any ceremonial significance or not,

though it seems not at all unlikely that it once had. [355]

The Malacca Cane

No less distinct are the animistic ideas of the Malays relating to

various species of the Malacca-cane plant. Mr. Wray of the Perak

Museum writes as follows:--

"A Malacca-cane with a joint as long as the height of the owner will

protect him from harm by snakes and animals, and will give him luck in

all things. What is called a samambu bangku [356] or baku, possesses

the power of killing any one even when the person is only slightly

hurt by a blow dealt with it. These are canes that have died down

and have begun to shoot again from near the root. They are very rare,

one of eighteen inches in length is valued at six or seven dollars,

and one long enough to make a walking stick of, at thirty to fifty

dollars. At night the rotan samambu plant is said to make a loud noise,

and, according to the Malays, it says, 'Bulam sampei, bulam sampei,'

[357] meaning that it has not yet reached its full growth. They are

often to be heard in the jungle at night, but the most diligent search

will not reveal their whereabouts. The rotan manoh [358] is also

said to give out sounds at night. The sounds are loud and musical,

but the alleged will-o'-the-wisp character of the rattans which are

supposed to produce them seems to point to some night-bird, tree-frog,

or lizard as being the real cause of the weird notes, though it is

just possible that the wind might make the rattan leaves vibrate in

such a way as to cause the sounds." [359]

In Selangor it is the stick-insect (keranting) which is believed to be

the embodiment of the "Malacca-cane spirit" (Hantu Samambu), by which

last name it is most commonly called. These stick-insects are believed

by the Selangor Malays to produce the sounds to which Mr. Wray refers,

and in order to account for their peculiar character a story is told,

the main features of which are as follows:--

Once upon a time a married couple fell out, and the husband

surreptitiously introduced stones into the cooking-pot in place

of the yams which his wife was cooking. Then he went off to climb

for a cocoa-nut, and as he climbed, he mocked her by calling out

"Masak belum? Masak belum?" ("Are they cooked yet? Are they cooked

yet?"). What she did by way of retaliation is not clear, but as

he climbed and mocked her, she is said to have retorted, "Panjat

belum? Panjat belum?" ("Have you climbed it yet? Have you climbed

it yet?"), a reply which clearly shows that her woman's wit had been

at work, and that she was not going to allow her husband to get the

better of her. [360] However this may be, a deadlock ensued, the result

of which was that both parties were transformed into stick-insects,

but were yet condemned to mock each other as they had done during

the period of their human existence.

I have often from my boat, during dark nights on the Langat river,

listened to the weird note which my Malays invariably ascribed to

these insects, and which is not inaptly represented by one of the

Malay names for them, viz. "belum-belam." I have not yet, however,

succeeded in identifying the real producer of the note, of which all I

can say at present is, that although it may not be itself discoverable,

the Malays look upon it as a certain guide to the localities where

the Malacca-canes grow.

The Tualang or Sialang Tree

So too of the Tualang-tree Mr. Wray writes:--

"One of the largest and stateliest of the forest trees in Perak is that

known as Toallong, or Toh Allong; [361] it has a very poisonous sap,

which produces great irritation when it comes in contact with the

skin. Two Chinamen who had felled one of these trees in ignorance,

had their faces so swelled and inflamed that they could not see out of

their eyes, and had to be led about for some days before they recovered

from the effects of the poison. Their arms, breasts, and faces were

affected, and they presented the appearance of having a very bad attack

of erysipelas. These trees are supposed to be the abiding-places of

hantu, or spirits, when they have large hollow projections from the

trunk, called rumah hantu, or spirit houses. These projections are

formed when a branch gets broken off near the trunk, and are quite

characteristic of the tree. There are sometimes three or four of them

on a large tree, and the Malays have a great objection to cutting down

any that are so disfigured, the belief being that if a man fells one

he will die within the year. As a rule these trees are left standing

when clearings are made, and they are a source of trouble and expense

to planters and others, who object to their being left uncut.

"The following series of events actually happened:--A Malay named

Panda Tambong undertook, against the advice of his friends, to fell

one of the Toh Allong trees, and he almost immediately afterwards was

taken ill with fever, and died in a few weeks' time. Shortly after

this some men were sitting plaiting ataps [362] under the shade

of another of these ill-omened trees, when, without any warning,

a large branch fell down, breaking the arm of one man, and more or

less injuring two others. There was not a breath of wind at the time,

or anything else likely to determine the fall of the branch. After

this it was decided to have the tree felled, as there were coolie

houses nearly under it. There was great difficulty in getting any

one to fell it. Eventually a Penang Malay undertook the job, but

stipulated that a Pawang, or sorcerer, should be employed to drive

away the demons first. The Pawang hung pieces of white and red cloth

on sticks round the tree, burnt incense in the little contrivances

made of the split leaf-stalks of the bertam palm, used by the Malays

for that purpose, cut off the heads of two white fowls, sprinkled

the blood over the trunk, and in the midst of many incantations the

tree was felled without any mishap; but, strange to say, the Pawang,

who was a haji [363] and a slave-debtor of the Toh Puan Halimah,

died about nine months afterwards." [364]

There appears to be very little reason to doubt that the word Tualang

('Toh Alang or Sialang) is the name not of a particular species of

tree, but rather the generic name of all trees in which wild bees have

built their nests, so that in reality it simply means a "Bee-Tree."

I have not yet succeeded in obtaining any of the Malay charms used

by the collectors of these bees' nests, except such as are used

by Sakais under Malay influence on the Selangor coast, the Sakais

being most usually the collectors. Some of these latter, however,

were pure Malay charms, and may perhaps be considered, in the absence

of charms collected from Malays, as evidence of at least secondary

importance. One of these charms commences as follows:--

"Here is the Peeling-knife, the knife with the long handle,

Stuck into the buttress of a Pulai-Tree." [365]

And another, which is almost word for word the same, as follows:--

"Here is the Peeling-knife, the knife with the long handle,

With which to stab (lit. peck at) the buttress of the

Pulai-Tree." [366]

It will be noticed that both refer to the Pulai-tree by name, and

not to the Tualang. The footnote which I here quote with reference

to the customs of Siak is, almost word for word, equally true of the

Bee-Trees in Selangor. [367]

Other haunted trees (pokok berhantu) are the Jawi-jawi, the Jelotong,

and Berombong, of which the following tradition will perhaps suffice:--

"All trees," according to Malay tradition, "were planted by 'the

Prophet Elias,' [368] and are in the 'Prophet Noah's' charge. In

the days of King Solomon, trees could speak as well as birds and

animals, and several of the trees now to be seen in the forest are

really metamorphosed human beings. Such are the 'Jelotong' and the

'Berombong,' which in the days of King Solomon were bosom friends,

until there broke out between them an unfortunate quarrel, which

terminated in 'Si Jelotong's' lacing the skin of 'Si Berombong' all

over with stabs from his dagger, the effect of which stabs remains

visible to this day. Si Berombong, on the other hand, cursed Si

Jelotong with his dying breath, praying that he might be turned into a

tree without any buttresses to support his trunk, a prayer which was,

of course, duly fulfilled. Thus originated the lack of buttresses

at the base of the former tree, and the laced and slashed bark of

the latter."

The Lime-Tree

Yet another tree whose spirit is the object, as it were, of a special

cult, [369] is the lime-tree, which is revered and looked up to almost

as their chief patron by the theatrical players (orang ma'yong) of

Penang. The invocations addressed to this spirit show that, as in

most branches of magic, every part of the tree had its appropriate

"alias." Thus the root was called the "Seated Prince," the trunk

the "Standing Prince," the bark the "Prince Stretching Himself,"

the boughs the "Stabbing Prince," the leaves the "Beckoning Prince,"

the fruit the "Prince loosing an arrow."

The Eagle-wood Tree

The following account of Eagle-wood and of the tree which produces

it is quoted from the Journal of the Straits Asiatic Society:--

"In Crawfurd's Dictionary of the Malay Archipelago [370] I find the

following:--'Agila, the Eagle-wood of commerce.--Its name in Malay

and Javanese is kalambak or kalambah, but it is also known in these

languages by that of gharu or kayu gharu, gharu-wood, a corruption of

the Sanskrit agahru.... There can be no doubt but that the perfumed

wood is the result of disease in the tree that yields it, produced

by the thickening of the sap into a gum or resin.'

"This 'Eagle-wood of commerce,' under its more familiar name gharu, is

one of the rarest and most valuable products of our Malayan jungles,

and the following notes may be of interest. They are the result of

inquiries amongst the Malays and Pawangs in Ulu Muar and Johol, and

I am indebted to Mr. L. J. Cazalas for much assistance in obtaining

the information contained in them.

"The gharu-tree is a tall forest tree, sometimes reaching the size

of fifteen feet in diameter. The bark is of a silvery gray colour,

and the foliage close and dense, of a dark hue. The Malay name for the

tree is "tabak," and no other may be used by the Pawang when in search

of the kayu gharu. [371] Gharu, the diseased heart-wood of the tabak,

is found in trees of all sizes, even in trees of one foot in diameter,

thus showing that the disease attacks the tree at an early stage.

"The gharu is found in pockets, and may sometimes be discovered by

the veins which run to these pockets. In other trees the veins are

absent, which renders the process of searching more difficult. The

tree is generally cut down and left to rot, which exposes the gharu

in about six months.

"'Pockets' are found to contain as much as 104 catties; a single tree

has been known to yield 400 catties. [372] Gharu is seldom found in

the sap-wood, generally in the heart-wood or teras.

"Many tabak-trees do not contain gharu at all. To select the

right trees is the special province of the Pawang or wise man. The

tabak-trees are under the care of certain hantu or wood-spirits, and

it would be hopeless for the uninitiated to attempt to find gharu;

even the Pawang has to be very careful.

"The following is the process as far as I have been able to ascertain

it:--

"On the outskirts of the forest the Pawang must burn incense, and

repeat the following charm or formula:--

"Homali hamali [373] matilok (mandillah ?) serta kalam mandiyat serta

teboh. Turun suhaya [374] trima suka turun kadim serta aku kabul kata

gharu mustajak [375] kata Allah Berkat la ilaha il'allah. Hei Putri

Belingkah, [376] Putri Berjuntei, Putri Menginjan [377] aku meminta

isi tabak. Ta'boleh di surohkan, ta'boleh lindong kapada aku kalau

di-suroh di-lindong-kan biar durâka kapada tuhan."

"There is no "pantang gharu" except that the words "isi" and "tabak"

must be used instead of "tras" and "gharu." [378]

"He then proceeds to search for a likely tree, and upon finding

one he again burns incense and repeats the spell as above. The tree

having been cut down, the next thing is to separate the gharu from

the sap-wood. The best way is to let the tree rot, but the Pawang is

often "hard-up," and does not mind wasting some of the gharu in his

hurry to realise.

"The following are said to be the tests for finding gharu in a

standing tree:--

1. The tree is full of knots. (Berbungkol.)

2. The bark full of moss and fungus. (Bertumuh berchandawan.)

3. Heart-wood hollow. (Berlobang.)

4. Bark peeling off. (Bergugor kulit.)

5. A clear space underneath. (Mengelenggang.)

6. Stumps jutting out. (Berchulak.)

7. Tree tapering. (Bertirus.)

8. The falling of the leaves in old trees.

"There are great differences in the quality of gharu, and great care

is taken in classifying them. It requires a skilled man to distinguish

between some of the varieties.

"The names are as follow:--

1. Chandan. [379]

2. Tandok.

3. Menjulong-ulong. [380]

4. Sikat.

5. Sikat Lampam. [381]

6. Bulu Rusa.

7. Kemandangan.

8. Wangkang.

"The chandan (pada tiada champur) is oily, black, and glistening. It

sinks in water.

"The tadak very closely resembles the chandan.

"The menjulong-ulong may be distinguished from the chandan and the

tandok by its length and small breadth. Splinters, 36 inches long,

have been found evidently from veins, not pockets. [382]

"Sikat (bertabun champur kubal dan teras), fibrous, with slight lustre,

will just float in water. Black and white streaks.

"Sikat lampam--the same as sikat, only white streaks more prominent.

"Bulu Rusa will float in water, fibrous, generally of a yellow colour.

"Kemandangan floats in water, whitish, fibrous fragments small.

"Wangkang floats in water, fibrous blocks whitish in colour.

"The chandan tree differs from other gharu-trees in having a maximum

diameter of about 1 1/2 feet, and very soft sap-wood.

"Gharu varies in price between 200 and 50 dollars a pikul [383]

according to the variety. The chandan and the tandok are the most

valuable.

"Chinese and Malays burn it in their houses on high days and

festivals--the latter generally take a supply with them on the

pilgrimage to Mecca. The better varieties are used in the manufacture

of aromatic oils." [384]

Before setting out to search for gharu, the gharu-wizard burns incense

and repeats these words, "O Grandsire Duita, Divinity of Eagle-wood,

if you are far, be so good as to say so; if you are near, be so

good as to say so," and then sets out on his quest. On finding a

karas-tree he chops the bark of the trunk lightly with his cutlass,

and then puts his ear to the trunk to listen. If he hears a kind

of low singing, or rather whispering noise (bunyi ting ting) in the

tree, he takes this as a signification that the tree contains gharu

(isi), [385] and after marking the bark with a cross (silang ampat)

he collects wood to build a temporary shelter (pondong) for himself,

and when about to plant the first post repeats the following charm:--

"O Grandsire Batara of the Earth, Earth-Genie, Earth-Spirit,

Idol of Iron, Son of Wani, Solitary Wani,

Son of Wayah, Bandan the Solitary,

I ask you to show me (an eagle-wood tree),

If you do not do so

You shall be a rebel against God," etc.

The result of this invocation is, or should be, that the gharu-spirit

appears to the wizard (generally, no doubt, in a dream), and

informs him what kind of sacrifice he requires on this particular

occasion. Whatever kind of sacrifice is asked for, must of course

be given, with the exception of a human sacrifice which, as it is

expressly stated, may be compounded by the sacrifice of a fowl.

When the tree has been felled you must be exceedingly careful to see

that nobody passes between the end of the fallen trunk and the stump;

whoever does so will surely be killed by the "eagle-wood spirit,"

who is supposed to be extremely powerful and dangerous. I myself

received a warning to this effect from some Labu Malays when I saw

one of these trees felled. Malays maintain that men are frequently

killed by this spirit (mati de' Hantu Gharu), but that they may

be recalled to life if the following recipe is acted upon:--"Take

two 'cubits' (?) of 'Panchong leaves' (daun panchong dua heta),

flowers of the sunting mambang, and 'bullock's eye' limes (limau

mata kerbau), squeeze [the limes(?)] and rub them over the corpse,

saying, 'Sir Allah! Sir Mangga Tangan! God's Essence is in your heart

(lit. liver). God's attributes are in your eyes. Go and entertain

the male Borer-Bee that is in your heart and liver.' The dead man

will then revive and stand upon his feet."

The most important point about eagle-wood, however, from the animistic

point of view, is the Pawang's use of the gharu merupa, a strangely

shaped piece of eagle-wood which possesses a natural resemblance to

some animal or bird. It is believed to contain the soul of the tree,

and therefore is always, when possible, carried by the collectors of

eagle-wood in the belief that it will aid them in their search. I

myself once owned one of these gharu merupa, which possessed a

remarkable resemblance to a bird. This appears to me very fairly

sufficient evidence to prove that the tree-soul is not supposed by

the Malays necessarily to resemble a tree. [386]

Camphor

The following account of the superstitious notions connected with

the search for Camphor (kapur Barus) is extracted from a paper by

Messrs. H. Lake and H. J. Kelsall [387]:--

"The chief interest attaching to the Kapur Barus in Johor lies in

the superstitions connected with the collection of the camphor by

the natives, or Orang Hulu. [388]

"Amongst these superstitions the most important is the use of a special

language, the subject of the present paper, which has been the means

of preserving some remnants of the aboriginal dialects of this part

of the Malay Peninsula. This language is called by the Orang Hulu

"Pantang Kapur"; pantang means forbidden or tabooed, and in this case

refers to the fact that in searching for the camphor the use of the

ordinary Malay language is pantang, or forbidden. In addition to this

there are restrictions as to food, etc.

"This Camphor language is first referred to by Mr. Logan in his

account of the aboriginal tribes of the Malay Peninsula, [389] and

he gives a list of eighty words, thirty-three of which are Malay or

derived from Malay."

"The Jakuns believe that there is a "bisan," or spirit, which presides

over the camphor-trees, and without propitiating this spirit it is

impossible to obtain the camphor. This bisan makes at night a shrill

noise, and when this sound is heard it is a sure sign that there are

camphor-trees near at hand. (This bisan is really one of the Cicadas

which are so numerous in the Malayan jungles.)

"When hunting for camphor the natives always throw a portion of their

food out into the jungle before eating, as an offering to the bisan.

"No prayers are offered up, but all food must be eaten dry,

i.e. without sumbul, [390] or stewed fish, or vegetables. Salt must

not be pounded fine; if it is eaten fine, the camphor when found will

be in fine grains; but if eaten coarse the grains of camphor will

be large. In rainy weather the cry of the bisan is not heard. At

certain seasons regular parties of Jakuns, and sometimes Malays,

go into the jungle to search for camphor, and they remain there as

long as three or four months at a time. Not only must the men who go

into the jungle to search for the camphor speak the 'Pantang Kapur,'

but also the men and women left at home in the Kampongs.

"The camphor occurs in the form of small grains deposited in the cracks

in the interior of the trunk of the tree. Camphor is only found in the

older trees, and not in all of these, and to obtain it the tree must

be cut down and split up. There are certain signs which indicate when

a tree contains camphor, one of which is the smell emitted from the

wood when chipped. A man who is skilled in detecting the presence of

camphor is called Penghulu Kapur. [391] The camphor when taken away

from the tree is washed, and all chips of wood and dirt carefully

removed, and it is then sold to Chinese traders at Kwala Indau at

prices varying according to the quality from $15 to $40 per katti.

"The Camphor language consists in great part of words which are

either Malay or of Malay origin, but contains, as above mentioned,

a large number of words which are not Malay, but which are presumably

remnants of the original Jakun dialects, which are apparently almost

obsolete otherwise in the Indau and Sembrong districts of Johor." [392]

Gutta-percha

The trees from which Gutta-percha is taken are also supposed to be

inhabited by a spirit; but this, the Gutta-spirit, being far less

dangerous than the Eagle-wood spirit, fewer precautions are taken in

dealing with it. In the invocation addressed to the Gutta-spirit,

the petitioner asks for the boon of a drop of the spirit's blood,

which of course is an indirect way of asking for the tree's sap.

Here is a specimen of the charms used by the gutta-collectors:--

"Ho, Prince S'ri Bali,

Prince S'ri Bandang,

I wish to crave the boon of a drop of blood;

May the yield be better than from this notch of mine.

(Here the speaker notches the tree.)

"If it be not better

You shall be a rebel unto God," etc. [393]

The Cocoa-nut Palm

The following instructions to be followed by toddy-collectors (who

tap the Cocoa-nut palm for its juice, which is boiled into sugar)

were given me by a Kelantan Malay ('Che `Abas of Klanang):--

"When you are about to set foot against the base of the trunk (i.e. to

start climbing) repeat these lines:--

"Peace be with you, O Abubakar!

Drowse not as you keep watch and ward in the heart of this tree

(umbi)."

Here climb half-way up and say:--

"Peace be with you, Little Sister, Handmaiden Bidah,

Drowse not as you keep watch and ward in the middle of the trunk,

Come and accompany me on my way up this tree."

Here climb up among the leaf-stalks, lay hold of the central shoot,

give it three shakes, and say--

"Peace be with you, Little Sister, Youngest of the Princesses,

Drowse not as you keep watch and ward over the central shoot,

Do you accompany me on my way down this tree."

Now commence by bending down one of the blossom-sheaths, lay hold of

the central shoot, and thrice repeat the following lines:--

"Peace be with your Highnesses, Princesses of the Shorn Hair and

(perpetual) Distillation,

Who are (seen) in the curve (lit. swell) and the ebbing away of

the Blossom-sheath,

Of the Blossom-sheath Si Gedebeh Mayang,

Seven Princesses who are the Handmaidens of Si Mayang."

(Here the speaker addresses the soul (or rather souls) of the tree.)

"Come hither, Little One, come hither,

Come hither, Tiny One, come hither,

Come hither, Bird, come hither,

Come hither, Filmy One, come hither.

Thus I bend your neck,

Thus I roll up your hair,

And here is an Ivory Toddy-knife to help the washing of your face.

Here is an Ivory Toddy-knife to cut you short,

And here is an Ivory Cup to hold under you,

And there is an Ivory Bath that waits below for you.

Clap your hands and splash in the Ivory Bath,

For it is called the 'Sovereign Changing Clothes.'" [394]

Rules for planting various Crops

The following rules have an evident bearing upon the subject of

vegetable animism. They were collected at Langat, in Selangor:--

The time to plant Sugar-cane is at noon: this will make it sweeter,

by drying up the juice and leaving the saccharine matter. If you plant

it in the early morning its joints will be too long, if in the middle

of the day they will be short.

Plant Maize with a full stomach, and let your dibble be thick, as

this will swell the maize ear.

For Plantains (or Bananas) you must dig a big hole, and the evening

is the time to plant them. The evening is the quicker, and if planted

after the evening meal they fill out better.

Plant Sweet Potatoes on a starry night to ensure their filling out

properly (by getting plenty of eyes?)

Plant Cucumbers and Gourds on a dark moonless night, to prevent them

from being seen and devoured by fire-flies (api-api).

Plant Cocoa-nuts when the stomach is overburdened with food (kalau kita

'nak sangat berak); run quickly and throw the cocoa-nut into the hole

prepared for it without straightening the arm; if you straighten it

the fruit-stalk will break. Plant them in the evening, so that they

may bear fruit while they are still near the ground. When you pick

seed cocoa-nuts off the tree somebody should stand at the bottom of

the tree and watch whether the "monkey-face" of each seed cocoa-nut,

as it is thrown down, turns either towards himself or the base of the

tree, or whether it looks away from both. In the former case the seed

will be good, in the latter it is not worth planting.

Plant Rice in the early morning, about five, because that is the hour

at which infants (the Rice Soul being considered as an infant) get up.

The Cultivation of Rice

The most important contribution of the Malays to the animistic theory

of vegetation is perhaps to be found in the many strange ceremonies

with which they surround the culture of Rice. In order to properly

understand the significance of these ceremonies, however, a proper

understanding of the Malay system of rice-planting is essential,

and I therefore quote in extenso a description of rice-culture,

which possesses the additional interest of being translated from the

composition of a Malay: [395]--

"It is the established custom in Malacca territory to plant rice once

a year, and the season for doing so generally falls about the month

of Zilka`idah or Zilhijah. [396]

"In starting planting operations, however, the object is, if possible,

to coincide with the season when the West wind blows, because at

that time there are frequent rains, and accordingly the earth of the

rice-field becomes soft and easy to plough. Moreover, in planting

rice it is an invariable rule that there must be water in the field,

in order that the rice may sprout properly; though, on the other hand,

if there is too great a depth of water the rice is sure to die. It

has also been observed that as a rule the season of the West wind

coincides with the fourth month [397] of the Chinese calendar, and

sometimes also with the month of Zilka`idah or Zilhijah. [398]

"2. In olden time the order of planting operations was as

follows:--First, the elders had to hold a consultation with the Pawang;

then the date was fixed; then Maulud [399] prayers were read over

the 'mother-seed,' and benzoin, (incense) supplied by the Pawang,

was burned; then all the requisites for rice-planting were got ready,

viz.:--

"(1) A strong buffalo (to pull the plough).

(2) A plough with its appurtenances (to turn over the earth and the

short weeds).

(3) A harrow with its appurtenances (to level and break up small the

clods of earth left by the plough).

(4) A roller with its appurtenances (to knock down the long weeds,

such as sedges, in fields that have lain fallow for a long while).

(5) A wood-cutter's knife, to mend any of the implements that may

get out of order at the time of ploughing.

(6) A hoe to repair the embankments and level the higher grounds.

(7) A scythe [400] to cut the long weeds.

(8) And a whip to urge the buffalo on if he is lazy.

"3. When the proper season has arrived for beginning the work of

planting, and the elders have come to an agreement with the Pawang,

then on some Friday after the service in the Mosque the Penghulu

addresses all the people there present, saying that on such a day of

the month every one who is to take part in rice-cultivation must bring

to the Mosque half a quart of grain (for 'mother-seed') in order that

Maulud prayers may be read over it. (At that time ketupats [401] and

lepats [402] are prepared for the men who are to read those prayers.)

"When the Maulud prayers are over, every man goes down to the

rice-field, if possible on the same day or the next one, in order to

begin ploughing the nursery plot, that is, the plot which is near

his house or in which he has been in the habit of sowing the seed

every year.

"But if a man has a great number of plots, he will begin by ploughing

half of them, and then at the end of the month of Zilhijah he must

diligently prepare the nursery plot so as to be ready in about ten

days' time.

Of Sowing

"4. Before sowing one must first of all lay out the grain, both the

seed-grain and the 'mother-seed,' each separately, to dry. It must then

be soaked in a vessel (a bucket or pot) for two days and two nights,

after which it is taken out, strained and spread quite evenly on a

mat with fresh leaves (areca-nut fronds are best), and every afternoon

one must sprinkle water on it in order that the germ may quickly break

through, which will happen probably in two days' time or thereabouts.

"5. While the seed is soaking, the nursery plot must be carefully

prepared; that is to say, it must be ploughed over again, harrowed,

levelled, ditched, and the soil allowed to settle; the embankments

must be mended, and the surface made smooth. When the germs have

sprouted the seed is taken to the nursery plot. Benzoin supplied by

the Pawang is burnt, and the plot sprinkled with tepong tawar. [403]

Then a beginning is made by sowing the 'chief of the seed,'

i.e. 'mother-seed,' in one corner of the nursery prepared for the

purpose, and about two yards square; afterwards the rest of the seed

is sown all over the plot. It is well to sow when the plot contains

plenty of water, so that all the germs of the seed may be uppermost,

and the roots may not grow long, but may be pulled up easily. The

time for sowing must be during the dark half of the month, so that

the seedlings may be preserved from being eaten by insects. [404]

"Three days after the seed is sown the young shoots begin to rise

like needles, and at that time all the water should be drawn off

the plot; after seven days they are likened to a sparrow's tail,

and about the tenth or fifteenth day they break out into blades. At

that period the water is again let into the plot, little by little,

in order that the stalks of the seedlings may grow thick.

"The seedlings have to remain in the nursery for at least forty or

forty-four days from the time of sowing before they are sufficiently

grown; it is best to let them remain till they are about seventy

days old.

"6. While the seedlings are in the nursery the other plots are

being ploughed, one after another; and this is called the first

ploughing. Then the embankments are mended and re-formed with earth,

so that the water in the field may not escape and leave it dry. After

the embankments have been mended the harrowing begins: a start is

made with the plot that was first ploughed (other than the nursery

plot), for there the earth will have become soft, and the weeds being

rotten after many days of soaking in the water will form a sort of

manure. Each plot is so dealt with in its turn. Then all have to be

ploughed once more (which is called the second ploughing) and harrowed

again; for the first harrowing merely breaks up the clods of earth,

and a second is required to reduce them to a fine state and to kill

the weeds. Most people, having first used an iron harrow, use a

wooden one for the second harrowing, in order that the earth may

be broken up quite fine. Their rice is sure to thrive better than

that of people who are less careful; for in rice-planting, as the

saying goes, there is 'the plighted hope of good that is to come,'

in the way of bodily sustenance I mean. So day by day the different

plots are treated in the way that has been described in connection

with the nursery plot in paragraph 5 above.

Of Planting

"7. When the seedling rice has been in the nursery long enough,

and the fields are clean and ready for planting (which will be about

the month of Safar, or August) the seedlings are pulled up and tied

together with strips of dried palas [405] leaves into bundles of

the size known as sachekak (i.e. the space enclosed by the thumb

and the index finger when their ends meet). If the roots and blades

are long the ends can be clipped a little, and the roots are then

steeped in manure. This manure is made of buffalo bones burnt with

chaff till they are thoroughly calcined, and then pounded fine,

passed through a sieve and mixed with mud: that is the best kind of

manure for rice-planting, and is known as 'stock manure.' (It can

also be applied by merely scattering it in the fields. In that case,

after cutting off the ends of the blades, the seedlings are planted,

and afterwards, when they are green again and appear to be thriving,

the manure is scattered over the whole field. There are some places,

too, where no manure at all is used because of the perennial richness

of the soil.)

"Afterwards the seedlings are allowed to remain exposed to the air

for about two nights, and then taken to the field to be planted. The

bundles are broken up, and bunches of four or five plants together

are planted at intervals of a span all over the different plots till

all are filled up. If there are very many plots, ten or fifteen female

labourers can be engaged to assist in planting, and likewise in pulling

up the seedlings, at a wage of four cents for every hundred bundles.

Of the Rice after it has been Transplanted

"8. Ten days after the young rice has been transplanted it recovers

its fresh green colour; in thirty days the young shoots come out;

in the second month it increases more and more, and in the third it

becomes even all over. After three months and a half its growth is

stayed, and in the fourth month it is styled bunting kechil.

"At that stage the stalk has only five joints, and from that period

it must be fumigated daily till the grain appears.

"About the time when the stalk has six joints it is called bunting

besar; in forty days more the grain is visible here and there, and

twenty days later it spreads everywhere. At this time all the water in

the field must be drawn off so that the grain may ripen quickly. After

five or six days it ripens in patches, and a few days later the rice

is altogether ripe.

"From the time of transplanting to the time when it is ripe is reckoned

six months, not counting the days spent in ploughing and in growing

it in the nursery, which may be a month or two, or even (if there

are many plots) as much as three months to the end of the ploughing.

Of Reaping and taking the Soul of the Rice

"9. When one wishes to begin reaping the grain one must first have

the Pawang's permission, and burn benzoin supplied by him in the field.

"The following implements must be got ready, viz.:--

"(1) A small basket to hold the rice cut first, known as the 'Soul

of the Rice' (semangat padi).

(2) A jari lipan [406] to put round the small basket.

(3) A string of terap [407] bark to tie up the rice that is cut first.

(4) A small stem of bamboo, of the variety known as buloh kasap,

with a flag attached, which is to be planted in the small basket as

a sign of the 'Soul of the Rice' that has been cut first.

(5) A small white cloth to wrap up the 'Soul of the Rice.'

(6) An anchak [408] to hold the brasier.

(7) A brasier, in which to burn the incense provided by the Pawang.

(8) A nail and a kind of nut, known as buah keras, [409] to be put

into the anchak together with the brasier.

"When the rice is ripe all over, one must first take the 'Soul' out

of all the plots of one's field. You choose the spot where the rice

is best and where it is 'female' (that is to say, where the bunch of

stalks is big) and where there are seven joints in the stalk. You begin

with a bunch of this kind and clip seven stems to be the 'soul of the

rice'; and then you clip yet another handful to be the 'mother-seed'

for the following year. The 'Soul' is wrapped in a white cloth tied

with a cord of terap bark, and made into the shape of a little child

in swaddling clothes, and put into the small basket. The 'mother-seed'

is put into another basket, and both are fumigated with benzoin, and

then the two baskets are piled the one on the other and taken home,

and put into the kepuk (the receptacle in which the rice is stored).

"10. One must wait three days (called the pantang tuai) before one may

clip or cut any more of the rice. At first only one or two basketfuls

of rice are cut; the rice is dried in the sun, winnowed in a winnowing

basket, and cleaned in a fanning machine, pounded to free it from the

husk, so that it becomes beras (husked rice), and then boiled so that

it becomes nasi (cooked rice), and people are invited to feast on it.

"11. Then a bucket is made for the purpose of threshing the rest of

the rice, and a granary built to keep it in while it remains in the

field, and five or six labourers are engaged to reap and thresh it

(banting). [410] Their hours of working are from 6 to 11.30 A.M.,

and all the rice they thresh they put into the granary.

"12. If the crop is a good one a gallon of seed will produce a

hundredfold. Each plot in a field takes about a gallon of seed.

"13. When the rice has all been cut it is winnowed in order to get

rid of the chaff, and then laid out in the sun till quite dry, so

that it may not get mouldy if kept for a year.

"Then the wages of the labourers are taken out of it at the rate of

two gallons out of every ten. When that is settled, if the rice is

not to be sold, it is taken home and put into the rice-chest.

"Whenever you want to eat of it, you take out a basketful at a time

and dry it in the sun. Then you turn it in the winnowing basket, and

clean it in the fanning machine, pound it to convert it into beras,

and put a sufficiency of it in a pot and wash it. Enough water is

then poured over it to cover it, and it is put on the kitchen fire

till it is boiled and becomes nasi, when it can be eaten.

"14. The custom of reaping with a sickle (sabit) and threshing the

rice as described in paragraph 11 is a modern method, and is at present

mainly practised by the people living in the neighbourhood of the town

of Malacca, in order to get the work done quickly; but in olden times

it was not allowed, and even to this day the people who live in the

inland parts of the territory of Malacca prefer to clip their rice

with a tuai, [411] and put it into their baskets a handful at a time

[i.e. without threshing it]. (If labourers are employed to do this

their wage is one-tenth of the rice cut.) It takes ever so many days

to get the work done, but the idea is that this method is the pious

one, the 'Soul of the Rice' not being disturbed thereby. A good part

of the people hold this belief, and assert that since the custom of

threshing the rice has been introduced, the crops have been much less

abundant than in years of olden time when it was the custom to use

the tuai only.

"15. If a man has broad fields so that he is unable to plant them

all by his own labour, he will often allow another to work them on an

agreement, either of equal division of the produce (each bearing an

equal share of the hire of a buffalo and all other expenses incidental

to rice-planting), or of threefold division (that is, for example,

the owner bears all expenses, in which case the man who does the work

can get a third of the produce; or the latter bears all expenses,

in which case the owner only gets a third of the produce). Or again,

the land can be let; for instance, a field which ordinarily produces

a koyan [412] of rice a year will fetch a rent of about two hundred

gallons more or less.

"16. Every cultivator who does not act in accordance with the ordinance

laid down in paragraphs 9 and 10 above, will be in the same case as

if he disregarded all the prohibitions laid down in connection with

planting. If a man does not carry out this procedure he is sure to

fail in the end; his labour will be in vain and will not fulfil his

desires, for the virtue of all these ordinances and prohibitions lies

in the fact that they protect the rice, and drive away all its enemies,

such as grubs, rats, swine, and the like." [413]

I will now deal with the ceremonies indicated in the foregoing article

from the ceremonial point of view exclusively.

The Sowing of the Rice-Seed

The ceremony to be observed at the sowing of the rice-seed was thus

described to me by the Pawang who performed the reaping ceremony

described below:--

"First arrange four poles upon the ground, so as to form a rectangular

frame (galang dapor), in the middle of the clearing. Then plant in

succession at the four corners--

"1. A young banana-tree.

2. A plant of lemon grass (serai).

3. A stem of sugar-cane (of the kind called lanjong).

4. A plant of saffron (kunyit).

Perform the operation carefully, so that they are all likely to live.

"In the centre of the ground enclosed by the frame deposit a cocoa-nut

shell full of water.

"Early next morning go out and observe the omens. If the frame has

moved aside (berkuak) ever so little, or if the water has been spilt,

it is a bad omen. But if not, and if the water in the cocoa-nut

shell has not been spilt, or if a black ant (semut) or a white ant

(anei-anei) is found in the water, it is a good sign.

"When good omens have been obtained, proceed by planting rice-seed in

seven holes with a dibble of satambun wood, repeating the following

charm:--

"In the name of God, etc.,

Peace be with you, Prophet 'Tap,

Here I lodge with you, my child, S'ri Gading, Gemala Gading, [414]

But within from six months to seven

I will come and receive it back,

Cluck, cluck, soul! cluck, cluck, soul! cluck, cluck, soul!"

The Planting out of the Young Rice

The following account (by Mr. C. O. Blagden) of the ceremony of

planting out the young rice (from the rice-nursery) appeared in the

Journal of the Straits Asiatic Society in 1896:--

"In agricultural operations the animistic ideas of the Malays are

clearly apparent: thus, before the rice is cut a sort of ritual

is performed which is known as puji padi, and which is regarded,

apparently, as a kind of propitiatory service, a sort of apology to

the padi (rice) for reaping it. The padi is usually sprinkled with

tepong tawar (flour mixed with water) before the reaping is commenced,

and the first lot cut is set apart for a ceremonial feast.

"At planting there are also ceremonies: as a rule the beginning of

the planting season is ushered in by a visit of the whole body of

villagers to the most highly revered kramat in the neighbourhood,

where the usual offerings are made and prayers are said. Sometimes,

however, there is a special service known as bapua, [415] consisting

of a sort of mock combat, in which the evil spirits are believed to

be expelled from the rice-fields by the villagers: this is not done

every year, but once in three or four years.

"Another occasional service of a peculiar character, which is not

of very frequent occurrence, is the ceremony which would perhaps be

best described as the propitiation of the earth-spirit. Some years

ago I happened, by chance, to be present at a function of this kind,

and as its details may be of some interest as illustrating the wide

dispersion of certain points of ritual, I will end these notes by

giving a full description of it as noted down at the time. It was

in the month of October, and I happened to be out shooting snipe in

the padi-fields of the village of Sebatu on a Sunday morning, when

I was met by the Penghulu, the headman of the village, who asked me

to leave off shooting for an hour or so. As I was having fair sport,

I naturally wanted to know the reason why, so he explained that the

noise of gunshots would irritate the hantu, and render unavailing the

propitiatory service which was then about to begin. Further inquiry

elicited the statement that the hantu in question was the one who

presided over rice-lands and agricultural operations, and as I was

told that there would be no objection to my attending the ceremony,

I went there and then to the spot to watch the proceedings. The place

was a square patch of grass-lawn a few yards wide, which had evidently

for years been left untouched by the plough, though surrounded by

many acres of rice-fields. On this patch a small wooden altar had been

built: it consisted simply of a small square platform of wood or bamboo

raised about three or four feet above the ground, each corner being

supported by a small sapling with the leaves and branches left on it

and overshadowing the platform, the sides of which appeared to face

accurately towards the four cardinal points. To the western side was

attached a small bamboo ladder leading from the ground to the edge

of the platform. At the four corners of the patch of grass were four

larger saplings planted in the ground. On the branches of all these

trees were hung a number of ketupats, which are small squarish bags

plaited of strips of the leaves of the screw-pine (mengkuang) or some

similar plant, like the material of which native bags and mats are

made. A larger ketupat hung over the centre of the altar, and all

of them were filled with a preparation of boiled rice. On the altar

were piled up various cooked foods laid on plantain leaves, including

the flesh of a goat cooked in the ordinary way, as well as rice and

different kinds of condiments and sweetmeats. The Pawang was present as

well as a number of the villagers, and soon after my arrival with the

Penghulu the ceremony began by some of the villagers producing out of

a bag the skin of a black male goat with the head and horns attached

and containing the entrails (the flesh having been cooked and laid on

the altar previously). A large iron nail four or five inches long,

and thick in proportion, was placed vertically in a hole about two

feet deep which had been dug under the altar, and the remains of the

goat were also buried in it, with the head turned towards the east, the

hole being then closed and the turf replaced. Some of the goat's blood,

in two cocoa-nut shells (tempurong), was placed on the ground near

the south side and south-west corner of the altar close to the ladder.

"The Pawang, after assisting at these preliminaries, then took his

stand at the west side of the altar, looking eastward: he covered

his head, but not his face, with his sarong wrapped round it like a

shawl, and proceeded to light a torch, the end of which was tipped

with incense (kemenyan). With this he touched the bottom of the altar

platform four times. He then took a cup of tepong tawar and dipped in

it a small bundle of four kinds of leaves, with which he then sprinkled

the north-west and south-east corners of the platform. He then

coughed three times--whether this was part of the ritual, or a purely

incidental occurrence, I am unable to say, as it was not practicable

to stop the ceremony for the purpose of asking questions--and again

applied the torch under the altar and sprinkled with tepong tawar

all the corners of it, as well as the rungs of the ladder.

"At this stage of the proceedings four men stationed in the rice-field

beyond the four corners of the patch of turf, each threw a ketupat

diagonally across to one another, while the rest of the assembly,

headed by the Penghulu, chanted the kalimah, or Muhammadan creed,

three times.

"Then a man holding a large bowl started from a point in the rice-field

just outside the north side of the patch of turf, and went round it

(first in a westerly direction). As he walked, he put handfuls of the

rice into his mouth and spat or vomited them out, with much noise, as

if to imitate violent nausea, into the field. He was followed closely

by another who also held a bowl filled with pieces of raw tapioca root

and beras bertih (rice roasted in a peculiar way), [416] which he threw

about into the field. Both of them went right round the grass plot. The

Pawang then took his cup of tepong tawar and sprinkled the anak padi,

that is, the rice-shoots which were lying in bundles along the south

and east sides of the altar ready for planting. Having sprinkled them

he cut off the ends, as is usually done; and after spitting to the

right and to the left, he proceeded to plant them in the field. A

number of others then followed his lead and planted the rest of the

rice-plants, and then a sweetmeat made of cocoa-nut and sugar was

handed round, and Muhammadan prayers were said by some duly qualified

person, an orang `alim or a lebei, and the ceremony was concluded.

"It was explained to me that the blood and the food were intended for

the hantu, and the ladder up to the altar was for his convenience;

in fact the whole affair was a propitiatory service, and offers

curious analogies with the sacrificial ceremonials of some of the

wild aboriginal tribes of Central India who have not been converted

to Hinduism or Islam. That it should exist in a Malay community

within twenty miles of the town of Malacca, where Muhammadanism

has been established for about six [417] centuries, is certainly

strange. Its obvious inconsistency with his professed religion

does not strike the average Malay peasant at all. It is, however,

the fact that these observances are not regarded with much favour

by the more strictly Muhammadan Malays of the towns, and especially

by those that are partially of Arab descent. These latter have not

much influence in country districts, but privately I have heard

some of them express disapproval of such rites and even of the

ceremonies performed at kramats. According to them, the latter might

be consistent with Muhammadan orthodoxy on the understanding that

prayers were addressed solely to the Deity; but the invocation of

spirits or deceased saints and their propitiation by offerings could

not be regarded as otherwise than polytheistic idolatry. Of course

such a delicate distinction--almost as subtle as that between dulia

and latria in the Christian worship of saints--is entirely beyond the

average Malay mind; and everything is sanctioned by immemorial custom,

which in an agricultural population is more deeply-rooted than any

book-learning; so these rites are likely to continue for some time,

and will only yield gradually to the spread of education. Such as they

are, they seem to be interesting relics of an old-world superstition.

"I have mentioned only a few such points, and only such as have been

brought directly to my knowledge; there are hosts of other quaint

notions, such as the theory of lucky and unlucky days and hours, on

which whole treatises have been written, and which regulate every

movement of those who believe in them; the belief in amulets and

charms for averting all manner of evils, supernatural and natural;

the practice during epidemics of sending out to sea small elaborately

constructed vessels which are supposed to carry off the malignant

spirits responsible for the disease (of which I remember a case a few

years ago in the village of Sempang, where the beneficial effect was

most marked); the widespread belief in the power of menuju, that is,

doing injury at a distance by magic, in which the Malays believe the

wild junglemen especially to be adepts; the belief in the efficacy of

forms of words as love-charms and as a protection against spirits and

wild beasts--in fact, an innumerable variety of superstitious ideas

exist among Malays." [418]

The Reaping Ceremony

On the 28th January 1897 I witnessed (at Chodoi, in the Kuala Langat

district of Selangor) the ceremony of fetching home the Rice-soul.

Time of Ceremony.--I arrived at the house belonging to the Malay owner

of the rice-field a little past 8 A.M., the hour at which the ceremony

was to take place having been fixed at angkat kening (about 9 A.M.) a

few days previously. On my arrival I found the Pawang (sorceress),

an aged Selangor woman, seated in front of the baskets required for

the ceremony. [419]

Accessories.--At her extreme left stood one of the circular brass

trays with high sides which are called dulang by the Malays, containing

the following objects:--

1. A small bowl of "parched rice" (b'ras ber'tih).

2. A small bowl of "saffron rice" (b'ras kunyit).

3. A small bowl of "washed rice" (b'ras basoh).

4. A small bowl of "oil of frankincense."

5. A small bowl of "oil of Celebes" (minyak Bugis).

6. A small bowl of "incense" (kem'nyan).

7. A small bundle of incense (in addition to the bowl).

8. One of the hard jungle-nuts called buah k'ras (the candle-nut).

9. One of the shells called k'rang (a cockle shell).

10. A hen's egg.

11. A stone (a small block of quartz).

12. A large iron nail.

13 to 15. Three Malay reaping instruments (penuwei). [420]

Close to the dulang stood a cocoa-nut shell filled with the tepong

tawar, which plays so prominent a part in Malay magic ceremonies, and

a brush made up of the leaves of seven different plants, bound up as

usual with a cord of kulit t'rap (the bark of the Wild Breadfruit),

and ribu-ribu (a kind of small creeper). The plants which supplied

the leaves of which the brush was composed, were as follows:--

1. Sapenoh. 2. Sapanggil. 3. Jenjuang (or lenjuang) merah (the Red

Dracæna). 4. Gandarusa. 5. Pulut-pulut. 6. Selaguri. 7. Sambau dara

(a kind of grass).

But the most interesting object was a small oval-shaped basket bound

with the ribu-ribu creeper, and about fourteen inches long, which

was standing just in front of the three rice-baskets and close to the

Pawang, and which, as I afterwards found out, was intended to serve as

the cradle of the Rice-soul (or "Rice-baby"). I examined it, however,

and found that as yet it only contained the following objects:--

1. A strip of white cloth (folded up and lying at the bottom of

the basket).

2. Some parti-coloured thread (benang panchawarna or pancharona).

3. A hen's egg.

4. One of the hard jungle-nuts (candle-nuts) already referred to.

5. A cockle shell (k'rang).

6. A long iron nail.

7. Five cubits of red cloth by means of which the soul-basket was to

be slung round the neck of its bearer. (The correcter custom would

require an expensive cloth of the kind called jong sarat, or the

"Loaded Junk," according to my informant the Pawang.)

Three new Malay skirts or sarongs were added, (one to each basket),

and everything being ready, the various receptacles described above

were entrusted to five female bearers (Penjawat), who descended

from the house, with the Pawang at their head, and set out for the

rice-field. Before they had gone many yards they were joined by the

owner of the field, who walked in front of them bearing what was

called the junjongan padi. This was the stem and leaves of a dark

red kind of sugar-cane, which was used in substitution for the black

or "raven" variety (tebu gagak) which, the Pawang explained, would

have been used in preference if it had been obtainable. Meanwhile

the procession passed on, and the Pawang repeated as we went the

following prayer to the spirits:--

"In the name of God, the merciful, the compassionate,

Peace be with thee, O Prophet 'Tap, in whose charge is the Earth,

I know the origin of the Rice, S'ri Gading, Gemala Gading,

That (dwelleth at) the end of the clearing, and that (dwelleth at)

the beginning (top) of the clearing;

That is scattered broadcast, that is cast headlong,

That is over-run (!) by the ants called Silambada.

Ho, Dang 'Pok, Dang Meleni, [421] (and)

Dang Salamat, who carriest the pole slung on thy back,

Gather together and press hitherwards your attendants.

May safety and our daily bread be granted us by God."

On reaching the rice the procession filed through a lane already

made in the rice, until the "mother-sheaf" was reached from which the

Rice-soul was to be taken. But immediately on arriving at the spot,

and before depositing the rice-baskets on the ground, the Pawang

repeated these lines:--

"Herons from all this region,

Roost ye upon the shaft of my bow;

Retire ye, O Spectral Reapers,

That we may deposit our baskets upon the ground."

Here the baskets were deposited, and the Pawang took up her station

in front of the mother-sheaf, of which mention has just been made.

Covering her head with a flowing white cloth of which the ends fell

upon her shoulders, the Pawang now stood up facing the sheaf, and waved

the ends of this cloth thrice upward to the right, thrice upward to

the left, and finally thrice upward to the right again. Then for a

few moments she stood still, close to the sheaf with her head bent

forward and buried among the ears, after which she reseated herself

and dabbled the tepong tawar thrice upon the roots of the sheaf. One

of the female bearers now planted the stem of the sugar-cane upright

in the centre of the sheaf, [422] whilst the Pawang sprinkled it with

the tepong tawar, and then holding the sharpened end of it over the

incense, fumigated it, saying:--

"Peace be with thee, O Prophet 'Tap!

Lo, I plant this Sugar-cane

For you to lean against,

Since I am about to take away this Soul of yours, S'ri Gading,

And carry it home to your palace,

Cluck, cluck, soul! cluck, cluck, soul! cluck, cluck, soul!"

Here the Pawang and Penjawat (Female Bearer), together proceeded to

plant the sugar-cane in the centre of the sheaf, and (pressing the

sheaf more tightly round the sugar-cane) drew the waist of the sheaf

together and belted it with some of the outer stems of the sheaf

itself; then the Pawang applied the tepong tawar once more to the

sheaf, and after fumigating it in the usual manner, ran her hands up

it. Next she took in one hand (out of the brass tray) the stone and

the egg, cockle-shell and candle-nut, and with the other planted the

big iron nail in the centre of the sheaf close to the foot of the

sugar-cane. Then she took in her left hand the cord of tree-bark,

and after fumigating it, together with all the vessels of rice and

oil, took up some of the rice and strewed it round about the sheaf,

and then tossed the remainder thrice upwards, some of it falling upon

the rest of the company and myself.

This done, she took the end of the cord in both hands, and encircling

the sheaf with it near the ground, drew it slowly upward to the waist

of the sheaf, and tied it there, after repeating what is called the

"Ten Prayers" (do`a sapuloh) without once taking breath:--

"The first, is God,

The second, is Muhammad,

The third, Holy Water of the five Hours of Prayer by Day and Night,

The fourth, is Pancha Indra,

The fifth, the Open Door of Daily Bread,

The sixth, the Seven Stories of the Palace-Tower,

The seventh, the Open Door of the Rice-sifting Platform,

The eighth, the Open Door of Paradise,

The ninth, is the Child in its Mother's Womb,

The tenth, is the Child created by God, the reason of its creation

being our Lord.

Grant this, `Isa! [423]

Grant this, Moses!

Grant this, Joseph!

Grant this, David!

Grant me, from God (the opening of) all the doors of my daily

bread, on earth, and in heaven."

This prayer completed, [424] she dug up with the great toe of the

left foot a small lump of soil, and picking it up, deposited it in

the centre of the sheaf.

Next she took the contents of the soul-basket (the egg and stone,

candle-nut and shell as before), and after anointing them with oil and

fumigating them, replaced them in the basket; then taking the penuwei

sulong ("Eldest Rice-cutter"), anointed the blade with the oil of

frankincense, and inserting the thumb of the right hand into her mouth,

pressed it for several moments against the roof of her palate. On

withdrawing it she proceeded to cut the first seven "heads" of rice,

repeating "the Ten Prayers" as she did so. Then she put the seven

"heads" together, and kissed them; turned up the whites of her eyes

thrice, and thrice contracting the muscles of her throat with a sort

of "click," swallowed the water in her mouth. [425] Next she drew the

small white cloth which she took from the soul-basket for the purpose

across her lap, and laying the little bundle of seven ears in it,

anointed them with oil and tied them round with parti-coloured thread

(benang panchawarna), after which she fumigated them with the incense,

and strewing rice of each kind over them, folded the ends of the cloth

over them, and deposited them as before in the basket, which was handed

to the first bearer. Then standing up, she strewed more rice over the

sheaf, and tossing some backwards over her head, threw the remainder

over the rest of the party, saying "tabek" ("pardon") as she did so,

and exclaiming "kur semangat, kur semangat, kur semangat!" ("cluck,

cluck, soul!") in a loud voice. Next she pushed the cocoa-nut shell

(which had contained the tepong tawar) into the middle of the sheaf,

and removed all traces of the lane which had been trodden round the

sheaf (to make it accessible) by bending down the surrounding ears

of rice until the gap was concealed.

Then the First Bearer, slinging the basket of the Rice-child about her

neck (by means of the red cloth before referred to), took an umbrella

[426] from one of the party, and opened it to shield the Rice-child

from the effects of the sun, and when the Pawang had reseated herself

and repeated an Arabic prayer (standing erect again at the end of it

with her hands clasped above her head), this part of the ceremony

came to an end. Moving on to another part of the field, the Pawang

now cut the next seven "heads" and deposited them in one of the three

rice-baskets, which she then handed to one of the female bearers,

telling her and her two companions to reap the field in parallel

straight lines facing the sun, until they had filled the three

rice-baskets, after which they were to return to the house. Leaving

the three reapers at their task, I followed the Pawang and Eldest

Bearer (the latter still shielding the Rice-child from the sun

with the umbrella) and arrived in time to witness the reception

of the party as they reached the foot of the house-ladder. Here

(on the threshold) we were met by the wife of the owner, and other

women of his family, the former thrice calling out as we approached,

"Apa khabar?" ("What news?"), and thrice receiving the reply, "Baik"

("It is well"). On receiving this reply for the third time she threw

saffron-rice over the Pawang and repeated these lines:--

"Chop the 'tree' Galenggang (a kind of shrub),

Chop it to pieces in front of the door:

Yonder comes One swinging (her) arms;

That (methinks) is a child of mine."

To which the Pawang immediately replied:--

"Chop the young bamboo-shoots as fine as you can,

If you wish to stupefy the fish in the main stream.

In good sooth I have crossed the stream,

For great was my desire to come hither."

And the bearer of the Rice-child added--doubtless on the Rice-child's

behalf:--

"This measure is not a measure filled with pepper,

But a measure filled with rice-husks.

My coming is not merely fortuitous,

But great (rather) was my desire, the wish of my heart."

She then entered the house and laid the Rice-child (still in its

basket) on a new sleeping-mat with pillows at the head. About

twenty minutes later the three Bearers returned, [427] each of

their rice-baskets covered with a sarong. These baskets were carried

into the bedroom and deposited in order of size on the mat at the

foot of the soul-basket, the largest basket being the nearest to the

soul-basket. Finally, the Pawang removed the sarongs which covered each

basket and deposited them on the Rice-child's pillow, and sticking

the "penuweis" into her hair, fumigated the entire row of baskets

and the Rice-child, and covered them over with the long white cloth,

after which the wife of the master of the house was told to observe

certain rules of taboo for three days.

The following were the taboos imposed upon her:--

1. Money, rice, salt, oil, tame animals, etc., were forbidden to

leave the house, though they might enter it without ill

consequences.

2. Perfect quiet must be observed, as in the case of a new-born child.

3. Hair might not be cut.

4. The reapers, till the end of the reaping, were forbidden to let

their shadows fall upon the rice. (Yang menuwei sampei habis

menuwei, tiada buleh menindeh bayang.)

5. The light placed near the head of the Rice-child's bed might not

be allowed to go out at night, whilst the hearth-fire might not be

allowed to go out at all, night or day, for the whole three days.

The above taboos are in many respects identical with those which have

to be observed for three days after the birth of a real child.

I may add that every day, when the reapers start their reaping,

they have to repeat the following charm:--

"A swallow has fallen, striking the ground,

Striking the ground in the middle of our house-yard;

But ye, O Shadows and Spectral Reapers,

See that ye mingle not with us."

When reaping, they must cover their heads and must face the sun,

no matter what hour of the day it is, in order to prevent their own

shadows from falling upon the rice in the basket at their side.

Pounding the first of the padi.--I witnessed this ceremony three

days later, at about 9 A.M. The three baskets filled with the first

reapings were removed from the mat on which they had been placed, and

their contents emptied out upon a new mat, to each corner of which

four rice-ears were tied, and trodden out (di-irekkan) by the owner

of the field. Then the rice was poured back into two of the baskets,

and the straw of the rice "heads" was plaited into a wreath. [428]

Drying the first of the padi.--Preparations being complete, the two

baskets full of newly-cut rice were carried down the steps and out

to an open part of the field, a little way from the house, and there

spread on a mat in the sun to dry. To spread it properly is not an

easy matter, the operator (who in this case was the owner), standing

on the mat and spreading the grains with a long sweeping motion of the

hand from one side of the mat to the other (the process being called

di-kekar, di-kachau, or membalikkan jemoran). In the present case

several objects were placed in the centre of the mat, consisting of--