Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
file which includes the original illustrations.
See 45958-h.htm or 45958-h.zip:
(https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/45958/pg45958-images.html)
or
(https://www.gutenberg.org/files/45958/45958-h.zip)
Images of the original pages are available through
Internet Archive. See
https://archive.org/details/indochinaitsprim00baud
Transcriber's note:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
INDO-CHINA AND ITS PRIMITIVE PEOPLE
[Illustration:
_Photo by_] [_L. de Layougune._
The Tomb of a Radé Chief decorated with Statues of his Faithful Women.]
INDO-CHINA AND ITS PRIMITIVE PEOPLE
by
CAPTAIN HENRY BAUDESSON.
Translated by E. Appleby Holt.
With 48 Illustrations from photographs.
[Illustration]
London: Hutchinson & Co.
Paternoster Row
TO
PROFESSOR ANTOINE CABATON
A TOKEN OF REVERENCE AND AFFECTION
CONTENTS
BOOK I
_AMONG THE MOÏ_
CHAPTER I
AMONG THE MOÏ
General characteristics of the Moï--A legend as to their selection of
a home--The part played by ocean currents in the distribution of
races--Had primitive peoples a sense of direction?--Features of daily
life--The hut--The village--Clothing and ornaments--A primitive method
of kindling a fire _p._ 3
CHAPTER II
INDUSTRIES AND OCCUPATIONS
Agriculture--Industries--Weaving, iron and copper mining--Commerce
and industrial products--Food supplies--Fishing--How we once
fished with dynamite--Hunting--Various methods of big-game hunting--My
first elephant hunt--Some useful hints to big-game
hunters--Poisons--Arms and weapons of defence--The tiger, a dangerous
neighbour--A bathing tragedy _p._ 18
CHAPTER III
FAMILY LIFE
Diseases and their cure--Betrothal and marriage--Adultery--Divorce--A
Moï wedding--Birth--Childhood--The game of Pig-Snatcher _p._ 52
CHAPTER IV
SOCIAL LIFE
Property--Slavery--Utilitarian morals--A bashful race--The
Levirate--Law and custom--An amateur arbitrator--Principles
and practice of the Ordeal _p._ 75
CHAPTER V
RELIGIOUS BELIEFS AND RITES
Similarity between the philosophical conceptions of uncivilized
races--Most of the ritual derived from magic--Dualism--Private
and public talismans--The Pi--The Legend of the Dog-King--
Totemism--Sorcery--Rebel Moï _p._ 98
CHAPTER VI
RITES AND SUPERSTITIONS (_continued_)
Tribal and proprietary signs--Tattooing and mutilation--Principles and
practice of the taboo--Its survival in modern Europe--The incarnation
of Spirits in stones, trees and animals--Belief in the magic powers
of the tiger--Animal poison--Bones as a charm--A protecting
ear--Ex-votos offered to the Spirit of the tiger--Superstitions about
monkeys--Hunting rites _p._ 116
CHAPTER VII
RITES AND SUPERSTITIONS (_continued_)
Agrarian rites--How Me-Sao, King of the Moï, opens the jar--Rites of
initiation and "coming of age" _p._ 137
CHAPTER VIII
BELIEFS AND RITES
The origin and observance of funeral rites--The ceremony of the
Commemoration of the Dead--Burial rites and various methods _p._ 161
CHAPTER IX
ART AND CULTURE
The relation between the evolution of artistic expression and social
development as illustrated by the Moï and the Laotians--The intimate
connection between Music, Dance and Stage--A Moï orchestra and war
dance--Deficiencies in the sense of sound due to lack of artistic
education--The effect of a gramophone--Predominance of the analytical
over the synthetic faculty--Exaggerated respect for form--Impression
produced by the stereoscope--Decorative arts--Sports, fêtes, and
public amusements--Extensive use of marks for ritual and other
purposes _p._ 177
CHAPTER X
INTELLECTUAL LIFE
The relations between the development of language and social
evolution--An enigmatic system of writing--Knotted cords, notches
in sticks and their accessories--The evolution of literature among
primitive races--Length of memory among races that have no written
records--Historical value of legends transmitted by oral
tradition--Nature of the more usual alterations to be met with
in documentary folklore--The most general legends, fables and
proverbs of the Moï _p._ 193
BOOK II
_THE CHAM_
CHAPTER I
THE CHAM
General characteristics of the Cham--A Mohammedan group--Its place
among ancient civilizations--Social life--Dress and ornaments--The
calendar--Rites accompanying the construction of a house, a cart, and
a junk--Agriculture and industry--Medicines--The use of narcotics
by criminals to stupefy their victims _p._ 225
CHAPTER II
SOCIAL AND FAMILY LIFE
Traces of the matriarchal system in the conception of the family--The
"Karoh"--Circumcision--Precautions against seduction--Rites incidental
to betrothal, marriage, birth and infancy _p._ 248
CHAPTER III
RITES AND SUPERSTITIONS
The beginnings of Islam in Indo-China--Rites which accompany initiation
into the priestly caste--The gods of Cham--Temples--Resemblance
between the architecture of the Cham and that of the Kmer--Phallic
rites--A visit to a royal sepulchre _p._ 266
CHAPTER IV
RITES AND SUPERSTITIONS (_continued_)
Agrarian rites--Tabooed ricefields--Secret ploughing--Sleeping
rice--Various uses of eagle-wood--How the Cham procure it--Public
festivals and holy days _p._ 297
CHAPTER V
RITES AND SUPERSTITIONS (_continued_)
Burial rites--Philology--Legends and fables _p._ 310
BIBLIOGRAPHY _p._ 325
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
The Tomb of a Radé Chief _Frontispiece_
A Moï Maiden with enlarged Ears _Facing page_ 16
A Cham Chief and his Daughter 16
Laotian Barque under full sail 17
A Moï Farmer at work 17
Fishing with Dynamite 26
A Floating Village 26
A Typical Village in Laos 27
Primitive Irrigation in Laos 27
Birth Ceremonies 54
The Wife of a Moï Chief 55
A Little Moï Family 55
A Sorcerer performing the Marriage Ceremony 64
Children scrambling over the Remains of the Marriage Feast 65
A Little Kha 78
Our Native Prisoners 78
The Village Musician serenading a Young Couple 79
A Hut of Propitiation 100
Tombs fenced with Bamboo and decorated with Elephants' Tusks 100
Woven Bamboo Baskets used to carry Offerings to the Priests 101
Memorial Stone erected to a Tiger 130
A Hunting Party 131
An Elephant and his Driver 131
The festival of the Dead: carrying home the Sacrificial
Buffalo 160
The Festival of the Dead: Poles erected for the Celebration 161
Funeral Rites: the Body in a Coffin made from the Hollowed Trunk
of a Tree 174
Funeral Rites: the Body by its weight has indicated its wish to
be buried in this spot 175
A Medical Examination 186
Looking through the Stereoscope 186
Three Boys of our Native Guard 187
A Court of Trial on an Annamese Stage 204
A Group of Amateur Actors in Annam 205
A Mandarin of Annam 205
Royal Elephants in Cambodia 250
A Buddhist Procession 251
Image of a Departed Saint in a Phallic Temple 272
Statues erected to the Dead in Laos 272
Shrine of a Laotian Priest 273
The Interior of the Shrine 273
Statue of an Ancient King of Cambodia 288
Statue of an Ancient Queen of Cambodia 288
An Old Cham Temple in a Cambodian Forest 288
The House of a Cham Aristocrat 289
A Cottage Home in Cambodia 289
Cremation in Cambodia: the Head of the Procession 312
A Catafalque upon which several Bodies are carried away for
Cremation 312
The Hearse and Bearers at an Annamese Funeral 313
The Altar of his Ancestors, which accompanies the Deceased 313
FOREWORD
No nation which desires worthily to fulfil the rôle of Protector to
the barbarous races on whom it proposes to confer the benefits of
civilization can afford to remain ignorant of their ways of life and
thought. The interchange of ideas is as essential to successful
colonization as the exchange of commodities. Unfortunately the path to
knowledge is beset with difficulties. In the first place the savage or
semi-savage is unable to apply the method of synthesis to those of his
institutions which seem founded on custom. He cannot tell us which of
his usages have been borrowed or imposed from outside. Further, as a
rule, it seems impossible to find any medium of communication between
his language and ours, so that any attempt at cross-examination is met
by the sorry pretence that our questions "make his head ache."
During the period covered by the geodetical and topographical surveys
which preceded the construction of the Trans-Indo-Chinese railway, the
members of the mission to which I was attached lived for years among
the natives upon terms of the greatest familiarity. We saw them in
their homes, at their work and recreations, and we can at least claim
that we obtained our knowledge at first hand.
I have not hesitated throughout this book to record the conclusions of
my colleagues and to compare or contrast them with my own for the sake
of the light they may throw upon each other.
I have analysed the rites and superstitions which came to my notice
with a mind unhampered by obsession or prejudice. If I have seemed to
dwell too fondly on analogous ceremonies among other peoples and in
other days it is only because I wish to arrive at the broad principles
which seem to me to underly all these phenomena, principles which are
as immutable as human nature itself.
BOOK I
AMONG THE MOÏ
Indo-China and its Primitive People
CHAPTER I
AMONG THE MOÏ
General characteristics of the Moï--A legend as to their
selection of a home--The part played by ocean currents in the
distribution of races--Had primitive peoples a sense of
direction?--Features of daily life--The hut--The
village--Clothing and ornaments--A primitive method of kindling
a fire.
The half-civilized races who inhabit the mountains and uplands of
Indo-China are known by different names among their neighbours. The
Birmans call them "Karens," the Laotians, "Kha," the Cambodians,
"Stieng," or "Pnong," the Annamites, "Man," or "Moï." "Moï," which can
be translated by "savage," is perhaps the most convenient label for
the whole complex of these primitive folk.
Their number is not capable of exact computation but probably
approaches 400,000, divided between tribes of different names. They
are to be found scattered between the eleventh and the twentieth
degrees of latitude, from the frontiers of China to the boundaries of
Cambodia and Cochin-China.
From the earliest times they have made their homes in the wooded
uplands at an altitude which secures them from the fear of inundation.
Their love of mountain and forest is a primitive and unchangeable
instinct and all attempts to acclimatize them to the plains have ended
in failure. Further, this instinct is reinforced by their religious
beliefs and their respect for ancestral tradition. According to a
charming legend this domain was the gift of Eve herself.
"The first human family had offspring so numerous that the land
of their birth could no longer sustain them. The mother
resolved that they should scatter to people other portions of
the earth. Before the separation she called them all together
for the last time and made a great feast in their honour. All
did credit to her bounty with the exception of one, who took
nothing but some red pimento.
"This self-restraint was not lost on Eve. She recommended those
of her sons who appreciated good cheer to share the fertile
plains, and giving a bow and arrows to her sober guest,
promised him the kingdom of the mountains where the beasts rove
the forests.
"He was the father of the Moï. His descendants share his
frugality, and, like his, their wants are few."
These characteristics distinguish them to-day. Our first discovery on
arrival among them was that the use of money is unknown. They value
an empty bottle more highly than a piastre, and if by chance they
accept some such coin it is only to cut it in pieces for an ornament.
Though their disposition is generally peaceful, some tribes are
extremely jealous of their independence and receive an intruder,
however innocent, with showers of arrows. In this, as in all other
respects, the people reflect the character of their surroundings.
As the national costume consists of the absence of it there is no
obstacle to the observation of their physical forms. The European on
his first arrival in this country will think himself in a museum of
classical statuary! Simplicity, harmony, virility and grace are all
exhibited in perfect combination.
An average figure measures five feet five inches in height. Few of the
natives are more than five feet nine inches, or less than five feet
one inch. The torso is faultless, the line of the loins elegant.
Sometimes the lower limbs are rather frail. The big toe, while
preserving its prehensile faculty (the feature of all races of the far
East), is not detached from the other toes. In this respect the Moï
differ from the Annamites, who have gained the nickname of "Giao-Chi"
(detached toe).
The adipose tissue is so fine that obesity is rare. Generally speaking
the skin is of the colour of earth and varies between reddish brown
and dark yellow. It has a characteristic odour resembling that of a
wild beast in good condition. There is an abundance of coarse black
hair, which is generally rolled up in a knot at the back and fastened
with a comb or band of stuff. In case of illness the patient lets his
hair fall loose to conceal his face. The forehead is low and narrow
and sometimes terminates in a point. The expression of the eyes, which
are frequently oblique, is one of fearless frankness. The thick chin
is the characteristic prognathous feature. The lips are fleshy and
colourless. The prominence of the cheek-bones give the face the
appearance of a pentagon with the chin as its apex. The long and
narrow skull places the type among the dolichocephalic races.[1] These
are the broad characteristics of all branches of the Indonesian race
and are especially to be remarked among the peoples of the Asiatic
archipelago, the Battaks of Sumatra, the Dyaks of Borneo and the Alfurs
of the Celebes, who show the least alteration from the original type.
It is well known that these primitive peoples were aware of the
existence of ocean currents and used them for their own purposes. No
other theory can account for the distribution of the Malayo-Polynesian
races among the swarm of islands, some of them hundreds of leagues
apart. It demonstrates beyond doubt the importance of the influence of
currents on the dispersion of the human race over the surface of the
globe.
The existence of a large number of legends common to the two peoples
reinforces the physiological resemblance between the Moï and the
primitive races of the Malay Archipelago. The folklore of all of them
speaks of the existence of human beings reputed to have had a tail
like a monkey's, and, what is even more extraordinary, a razor-edged
membrane on the forearm which was used to cut down branches
obstructing their path.
Curiously enough Borneo possesses a people, the Murut, who habitually
wear the skin of a long-tailed monkey. At a distance this appendage
seems to belong to the wearer rather than to the garment.
In the same way it may be that the custom of carrying a wooden knife,
practised by forest-roving peoples, is responsible for the illusion
which confuses the weapon with the arm which wields it.
The Moï have a wonderful memory for places and a marked sense of
direction. The latter faculty is attributed mainly to a peculiarly
highly-developed sensibility to physical contact. Like all peoples who
spend most of their time in the open air they are constantly noting
the direction of the wind. They know the exact hour at which,
according to the season, the wind will rise or fall. However light, a
breeze will induce a sensation of freshness immediately recorded by
their bodies, especially when moist with exertion. As they walk or run
they note carefully every movement which obstacles oblige them to
make. According to Doctor Ouzilleau, this sixth sense is localized in
the ampullæ of the semicircular canals. A movement of the head causes
the displacement of the endolymph which acts on the auditory nerves.
Further, the Moï possess keen vision and a highly-developed sense of
smell which bring to their notice objects which would remain
unobserved by Europeans. A small drop of blood is on a leaf. It is the
evacuation of a wild boar whose lair is close at hand.
As is well known, instinct prompts almost all the actions of the
semi-savage. Accordingly the psychology of the Moï is not easy to
describe. Is he capable of altruism, pity, or gratitude? With few
exceptions these virtues are almost completely unknown. But he will
learn them, like anyone else, as soon as civilization has given him
more favourable conditions than under his present precarious
existence. To-day he falls an easy victim to injustice, intrigue and
exaction. So if Europeans arrive in force they are treated as an enemy
to be feared and therefore worthy of respect, but a casual foreigner
may easily pay for his rashness with his life.
Like all men of weak character, the Moï is very revengeful and awaits
with patience the day of redress. Months and years may pass without
effacing the least detail of his wrong. I was frequently called upon
to compose their quarrels and it was seldom that the injury was not
one of long standing.
"But why," I asked, "wait so long before taking action?"
"I had other things to do," came the answer.
"What other things, you idler?"
"Oh, invitations to share a flask of spirits of rice or a fat pig."
Nothing, not even the most imperious necessity, can overcome their
inveterate laziness.
I shall never forget the curious impression produced on me by my first
entry into a Moï village. The village in question was Dran on the
Da-Nhim, whose narrow valley marks the outposts of the great Annamite
chain. Five or six straw huts had been erected on stakes some ten feet
above the earth, less to avoid dampness than to secure immunity from
the raids of wild beasts.
Some women were pounding paddy (a preparation of rice) for the evening
meal in mortars of ironwood. The measured beat of a metronome and the
regular thuds of the pestles set the time for the wailing chant with
which the women beguiled their work. On seeing me they looked up
startled. A single piece of flimsy cloth draped from the waist to the
knee revealed the outline of many a full and graceful thigh and
emphasized rather than concealed their sinuous movements. The children
played around or pretended to help in lifting the heavy pestles.
At the top of a pole a rude figure had been carved of the genius of
the village armed with a murderous-looking cross-bow. He was the
tutelary deity of the place.
The supports of the houses are built of ironwood, the other portions
being of plaited bamboo sticks. The roof is open to the sky and
overhangs both the farmyard and the pigsty. We had no difficulty in
conjuring up the discomforts that awaited us should we ever be
compelled to lodge in such a place. The thin wattled walls would not
spare us the least noise nor the slightest odour.
My unwonted appearance still continued to excite demonstrations of
alarm, but it seems my beard was mainly responsible for the
indiscriminate flight which ensued. One old woman only was brave
enough to remain seated in her doorway. I asked her for permission to
inspect her dwelling, accompanying my request with a gift of a large
packet of tobacco. She acceded, not without hesitation and a look of
infinite distrust in her eyes. A rude wooden approach with apologies
for steps led up to the interior. The rooms, one of which is assigned
to each distinct family, were about the size of a horse-box, but a
special apartment was reserved for strangers and solemn occasions such
as a general reunion. The hearth, raised a few inches above the level
of the floor, consisted of a platform on which three fires were
burning and an appetizing and harmonious murmur proceeded from three
pots in which rice, the evening meal, and the food for the pigs were
being prepared. There was no chimney, for the duty of the smoke is to
keep off the mosquitoes, which are such a plague in these regions.
Accordingly every object in the place was covered with a thick layer
of soot, and no window was to be seen.
The inhabitants of this particular village were poor and the huts were
very small, but in some of the more fortunate villages the houses
sometimes attain a length of two hundred yards.
Huge blocks of wood served as beds to a people usually too tired to be
critical. The walls of the partitions were hung with a medley of
gongs, tom-toms, weapons and domestic utensils. The spirit flask,
without which no family celebration is complete, was suspended from a
post adorned with rude carving.
The frightened inhabitants eyed us askance and behaved like whipped
curs. The children squalled and hid under any convenient object, nor
could I gain their confidence by emptying my pockets of all the
tempting trifles I had brought with me for the purpose.
Seen from a distance there was nothing to point to the presence of a
village. It was perched on the side of a ravine with the forest behind
it, and thick brushwood in front protected it from the gaze of the
inquisitive. The only entrance, known to the initiated alone, was that
furnished by two narrow passages. Even when the entrance has been
found, another dark passage has to be traversed which is designed for
easy defence in case of attack. A small number of determined warriors
would be quite sufficient to repel invaders.
The open space in the centre of the village was adorned with two
public buildings, a large hut reserved for the boys who had just
attained the age of puberty and another which contained the last
harvest. The door of this public granary was secured in a manner which
demonstrated to perfection the naïve simplicity of these folk. The
lock consisted of a rattan thread passed through an empty egg-shell.
Of course it was impossible to touch the thread without breaking the
shell, and as all are equally interested in the preservation of the
precious grain supply, each man thus became policeman to his
neighbour.
The Moï is not nomadic by nature, but moves his habitation
periodically as soon as he has exhausted the natural resources of the
soil he occupies. Other causes of this periodical exodus are serious
misfortunes, such as a fire, an epidemic, or unpleasantly frequent
raids by the tiger. Such mishaps are invariably attributed by the Moï
to the evil influence of the genius of the place. To dispute the
possession of the ground with so powerful a divinity would be sheer
madness, and accordingly he yields with grace and betakes himself
elsewhere without regret.
The choice of the next habitation is not a mere matter of chance. The
Geomancer is called in to consult the omens, and no selection is made
until after ripe reflection.
But I am forgetting the mild adventure which was the occasion for
these general observations. After some time I became aware that my
visit could not be prolonged without a breach of etiquette and that I
was trespassing on the time of my hostess. She herself recalled me to
good manners by resuming her multifarious household duties.
Accordingly I bade her farewell and left her surrounded by a crowd of
the feathered tribe who assembled in answer to her guttural cry of
"loc-loc," the usual signal for a generous distribution of maize.
The national costume is marked by an almost evangelical simplicity.
The men may truly be described as clothed in sunbeams, for a flimsy
piece of cloth draping the waist can hardly be dignified with the name
of dress. A knife in a leather or wooden sheath is the only weapon
carried, though another small knife is frequently fastened in the
hair, which is twisted into a knot and secured by a comb. The women
have a clinging skirt, which does full justice to their graceful
figures. The bust is seldom covered at all, but in cold weather a
large piece of cloth is draped round the waist. Both sexes sometimes
wear a rough cloak trimmed at the edge with a variegated fringe, but
in spite of such precautions they are very liable to affections of the
throat.
The chief peculiarity, however, which distinguishes them from the
other groups of Indo-China is their inordinate love of personal
decoration. The passion for finery gives rise to the most embittered
rivalry among the women, and takes many curious forms, such as the
artificial elongation of the lobe of the ear, in which various
ornaments are introduced. This painful process begins in infancy, when
the ears are pierced with a sharpened bamboo rod. A wooden ring is
inserted in the hole thus made, and weights hung from it, at first
small, then increasing in size. The lobe, unnaturally distended,
sometimes reaches the shoulder, in which case it is accounted a
feature of the greatest beauty, and a husband with every talent and
virtue is assured to its fortunate possessor. But it is of prime
importance that the ear should remain unbroken. Should the skin give
way, the two hanging pieces will be an eternal reproach. No husband
will want a woman thus degraded, and a hopeless spinsterhood will be
her lot in life.
The men are addicted to the same practice, but with rather more
discretion. They confined themselves to filling the holes in their
ears with our champagne corks, which were quite at a premium on the
market and shared the honours with our boxes of Swedish matches.
Sometimes, too, their taste turned to an ivory serviette ring or even
a simple drawing pencil. Another fashionable masculine ornament is a
brass collar, consisting of a number of spiral rings. We never
satisfied ourselves as to whether this was pure decoration or served
some ulterior purpose, such as protection against affections of the
throat.
Copper and brass bangles adorned the wrists and ankles, but he who
wished to touch the supreme height of fashion wrapped his head in one
of the towels with which we rewarded our more industrious coolies.
I brought from Paris a supply of beads, in the hope of finding them
useful as a medium of exchange. To my surprise the natives took no
interest in them at all and they proved almost worthless. The Moï,
like the European, follows the caprice of fashion, and our beads, it
seemed, were too heavy and not gay enough for his taste. Besides, they
were not the mode of the moment.
It was thus sufficiently demonstrated that the wearing of clothes is
not even essential for the display of feminine vanity and coquetry.
Artifice can dispense with clothing, and if the sexes in this strange
land attract each other by means that seem curious and unaccountable
to us, the end in view is always and among all peoples the same, the
continuance of the race.
It must be remembered, too, that the development of a fashion is
similar to the development of a living organism. A certain form of
dress or style of decoration undergoes successive transformations, the
stages being generally exaggeration, diminution and ultimate
disappearance. For illustration we need go no further afield than the
recent vagaries of fashion in Europe which seem to oscillate between
the bell and the asparagus, but perhaps a more striking example is the
long, pointed shoes of the Middle Ages. At first the points were quite
reasonably short. Then little by little each man tried to sort himself
out of the common ruck of his neighbours by having longer points, and
after about a century the fashion culminated in the absurd
extravagance of the shoe with points long enough to be drawn upwards
and fastened to the knee. The mode first saw the light in the middle
of the thirteenth century and disappeared abruptly in 1428. The same
evolution can be traced in the progress of the ruff of the fifteenth
century and the crinoline of the nineteenth.
It is at least open to belief that ethnical transformations are
governed by similar laws. This distension of the lobe must be traced
to the practice of continually adding to the number of ornaments with
which the ear was overloaded.
Every individual tends to overrate the feature which is considered the
characteristic of his race. "Le beau pour le crapaud c'est sa
crapaude," said Voltaire, and the natural instinct of the savage is to
exaggerate what he regards as the most worthy of admiration. This
instinct is indubitably responsible for most of the mutilation
practised by primitive peoples. Thus the negresses of Africa produce
an artificial elongation of the nipple by the sting of a certain
insect, and the platyrrhine Malays make their flat noses even flatter,
while the Persians take the most elaborate pains to induce an extreme
hook on a nose already aquiline. This theory of exaggeration inherent
in our nature can alone explain certain customs which are otherwise
unaccountable.
[Illustration: A Moï Maiden with Enlarged Ears.]
[Illustration: A Cham Chief and his Daughter.]
[Illustration: Laotian Barque under Full Sail.]
[Illustration: A Moï Farmer at work.]
I ought perhaps, before leaving the subject, to enumerate three other
methods of decoration practised by the leaders of fashion among the
Moï. The women powder their hair with an odorous substance obtained
from the berries of the vetiver. Both men and women smear their teeth
with a kind of lacquer to protect the enamel from the action of lime,
the principal ingredient of the betel leaf.
Finally the society ladies dye their nails a vivid vermilion with the
sap of the plant "Semrang."
As I said above, our matches soon went to a premium as a medium of
exchange, but the Moï already employed two methods of kindling a fire.
One was by striking a flint against a piece of pyrite of iron, the
other by simply rubbing together two pieces of wood. The process is as
follows. A very dry bamboo is split at one end for about five inches
of its length. The two sections are kept apart by the insertion of a
wooden wedge. In this way a rude ventilating chimney is made under
which the operator piles up some dead leaves, bamboo cuttings and
moss. He now passes a long cane under the apparatus (which he keeps
steady with his foot) and rubs it rapidly backwards and forwards until
a spark appears, which is usually within a minute. The movement
closely resembles that of sawing.
This last method is only practised in the bush, for in the villages
the fires are carefully preserved under the ashes and seldom allowed
to go out. This preservation of fire is a phenomenon which
characterizes all primitive peoples in every clime.