Intellectual development--Sakais of the plain and Sakais of
the hills--Laziness and intelligence--Falsehood and the Evil
Spirit--The Sakai language--When the "Orang Putei" gets
angry--Counting time--Novel calendars--Moral gifts.
Intellectual development amongst the Sakais of the hills is very limited
and as a consequence requires little or no study but much more is to be
met with amongst those of the plain for two reasons which I have already
explained: one their traffic and consequent intercourse with more
civilized races; and the other the mixture of blood from their parents'
concubinage with strangers, thus destroying the purity of their own.
After the establishment of the British Protectorate and the abolition of
slavery in the Federated Malay States the Sakai men and women returned
to their native places, the latter taking with them the children born of
their masters and the former entered into business relations with their
quondam owners by the exchange of forest products for trifles of little
or no value.
This explains why in the tribes dwelling on the plains we meet with
certain cunning and malicious intents which are in strange contrast with
their primitive ingenuity and sincerity. But although in comparison to
their brethren of the mountains they might and do pass for artful, they
themselves are continually cheated and deceived by their more skilful
neighbours who barter inferior qualities of tobacco, iron, calico and
other trash, worth nothing, for real treasures in rattan, cane, rubber,
poisons, fruit and fishing gear which the Sakai of the plain is very
clever in making.
Notwithstanding this sharpening of their intellect due to sojourn
amongst their more astute neighbours or to the inheritance of
insincerity, theirs by birth when born in exile, they are not yet
capable of understanding what profit they might make by exciting
competition between their covetous barterers, and the latter, each one
for self-interest, are very careful not to open the eyes of those who
are so ready to let themselves be cheated. Moreover, the ill-treatment
to which they were once subjected, and the imperfect knowledge they
still have of what the British Protectorate means, renders them timid
and too much afraid of these rapacious merchants to dare resent, in any
way, the prepotence which damages them.
In spite of the corruption which has infected them from their
companionship or relationship with corrupted people the Sakai of the
plain still preserves some of his original goodness and uprightness.
Only too well it may be said that once he has rid himself of these moral
encumbrances which leave him defenceless in the hands of the
unscrupulous he will have taken a new step towards civilization but
there will be two virtues the less in his spiritual patrimony.
* * * * *
The Sakai who has taken refuge in the hilly part of the forest in order
to escape from the influences of Civilization which may now be said to
beset him on all sides, still preserves and defends the original purity
of his race.
His intellectual development is inferior to that of his brother living
in the plain because he keeps himself alien to everything that might
effect his physical laziness and the utter inertia of his brain.
He lives because the forest gives him abundant food, and he lives idly,
immersed in innumerable superstitions that _Alà_ (the sorcerer) enjoins
him to always preserve intact.
If, quite suddenly, a change should come in the life and conditions of
these Sakais they would never be able to adapt themselves to a different
regime until after extreme suffering and sacrifice had strewn the new
path with many victims.
And yet, in spite of all, I believe him to be endowed with a fair amount
of intelligence, dormant for the present, but susceptible of development
when once awakened and with great patience he has, by slow degrees
(almost imperceptibly) been taught to overcome his strange fears and to
lose those curious ideas concerning life which the old forest
philosopher revealed to me.
I say "almost imperceptibly"--as for some years I have been doing
myself--that no suspicions may be raised and that _Alà_ may have no
cause to rebel against the introduction of modern sentiments by
outsiders who insinuate themselves into the tribe, persons whom he does
not view with benevolent eyes, especially if they are white. This sort
of priest obstinately opposes every element of progress and obliges his
people to do the same.
[Illustration: Preparing the supper.
_p._ 151.]
I have my reasons for believing in the latent intelligence of the
mountain Sakai as I have noticed in him a great facility in imitating
sounds, movements and even the way of doing things and also of learning
and remembering what he has been taught or has seen. I have perceived in
him, too, a pronounced rectitude of judgment and a remarkable sharpness
of observation when his superstitious terrors do not throw a veil over
his mind.
But he is incorrigibly lazy and will not engage in any kind of work that
requires fatigue unless it be by his own spontaneous will. The spirit of
independence within him is so profound and indomitable as to induce him
perhaps to renounce a benefit to himself for fear of obtaining it
through satisfying the desire of another.
He is also very touchy; a harsh word or an impatient gesture is enough
to offend him.
In compensation he is hospitable, generous, sincere and averse to
falseness and intrigue. If sometimes he tells a lie he does so from the
dread of an imaginary or possible evil which might otherwise befall him
or his, as for instance when somebody he does not know asks his name or
seeks information about his place of abode. In such a case the Sakai,
with something like childish impudence, will give a fictitious name or
information quite contrary to the truth because he is convinced that
every stranger brings with him an evil spirit to let loose upon the
person or place he seeks, and that by not saying the truth he tricks
both the man and the spirit that cannot injure him as he is not the
person declared.
As can be seen, this their way of reasoning does not lack a certain
ingenuity which leads one to think that the poor things' brains might be
educated to more agility in thinking and understanding.
Unfortunately the means are very scarce for making new impressions upon
the grey matter enclosed in the bony case of their thoughtless pates.
The first difficulty to be met with is the incredible poverty of their
language which impedes the communication and development of an idea.
I endeavour to remedy this deficiency by employing English words and
phrases because this is the official language in the Protected Malay
States, and the British Government wishes to make it popular.
The Sakais catch the meaning and make use of the terms the same as they
often learn a word in Italian or Genoese that I sometimes utter when
speaking to myself.
I remember well, one day, that in a moment of irritation about something
that did not go right, I exclaimed "_Sacramento_" (I apologize to those
who know what a naughty word it is).
My little servant boy who was present looked at me frightened, then
began to cry and darted away as if mad, although he had nothing to do
with my bad temper.
Well, what do you think? Now it has passed amongst the Sakai boys that
when the _Orang Putei_ gets angry he says "_Sacramento_!". And they
repeat the oath with all the emphasis and air of a trooper, yet I had
not taught them it nor should I have wished them to learn the
exclamation.
* * * * *
The Sakai language is, as I have said, very poor indeed, so much so that
it is impossible to form a long phrase or keep up the most simple
conversation because there are no means of connecting the various words
one with the other.
An idea is expressed by a single word or perhaps by three or four
together so that it requires a great deal of practice, attention and
also a special study of the mimicry which accompanies and explains these
terse vocal sounds, to enable one to follow out the thought.
[Illustration: A group of Bretak boys.
_p._ 156.]
Their vocabulary is soon exhausted for it is composed only of those
words which are strictly necessary to make known their daily wants, the
necessity of defence and their superstitious feelings. They refuse to
adopt any of those expressions that their brethren of the plain have
learnt from other races, considering them as impure and perilous as the
people themselves. This is an implacable application of the maxim
"_timeo danaos et dona ferentes_" by folks who do not understand Latin
and who ignore the existence of the Greeks but who know thoroughly well
their stranger neighbours.
It is therefore vain to seek among the Sakais those poetical metaphors
and that flowery, figurative style of speech which is attributed by us
to all Orientals without distinction.
I am not a student or professor of glottology, contenting myself with
being able to speak one or two languages without troubling my head over
their origin, so I dare not judge upon the affinity more or less remote
of the not too sweet Sakai idioms with others, but there seemed to me
such a marked difference between the Malay and Sakai phraseologies that
I should have declared them to be absolutely distinct one from the
other.
However, the recent studies of the German, W. Schmidt, and the more
profound ones of the Italian, A. Trombetti, have proved that all the
tongues spoken by the inhabitants of the Malay Peninsula as well as
those to be heard in the neighbouring isles are in connection with each
other.
The most part of the words used by the Sakais are of only one syllable,
polysyllables being very rare, and the way in which these accents are
shot out from the lips would make a foreigner decide at once that the
best method of translating their talk would be by a volley of shots.
* * * * *
For the curious and the studious I have here added a short list of the
words commonly used amongst the Sakais but as their language is totally
exempt from every rule of orthography I have tried as well as I can to
give a phonetic interpretation of the same.
Arm -- _glahk_
Arrow -- _grog_
" (poisoned) -- _grog mahng tshegrah'_
" (not poisoned) -- _grog pe' m tshegrah_
Bamboo -- _annahd'_
Banana -- _tellah'e_
Betelnut -- _blook_
Bird -- _chep_
Body -- _brock_
Born -- _egoy_ (_alphabetical sound of_ e)
Blow-pipe -- _blahoo'_
Brother -- _tennah'_
" (elder) -- _tennah' bop_
" (younger) -- _manang se ne_ (_e sounded as in_ met, men)
Child -- _kennon_
Cigarette -- _rockò_
Come soon -- _hawl aghit_ (_a_ as in _father_)
Cover -- _tshenkop_
Day -- _e eah top_
Dead -- _daht_
Death -- _daht_
Dog -- _chaw_
Ear -- _garetook_
Earth -- _in noos_
Evening -- _danwee_
Evil -- _ne' ghne' e'_ (_alphabetical sound of_ e)
Eye -- _maht_
Father -- _abbay'_, _abboo'_, _appah'_
" (in-law) -- _tennah' amay_
Fear -- _sayoo neot_
Female -- _knah_
Fish -- _kah_
Flute -- _tshinelloi_
Foe -- _pay kabaad_
Foot -- _jehoo_
Forest -- _dahraht_
Fowl -- _poo_
Fruit -- _pla'_
Good -- _bawr_
Good-bye -- _abbawr_
Hail -- _tayho oontoy_
Hand -- _tahk_
Harm -- _ne'_, _ghne' e'_ (_like_ evil)
Head -- _kovey_
Heart -- _noos_
Hen -- _poo_
Hill -- _loop_
Hot -- _baykahk_
Hunger -- _chewahr_
Husband -- _care lore_
Hut -- _dop_
Illness -- _nigh_
Leaf -- _slah_
Leg -- _kaymung_
Lightning -- _bled_
Malay -- _my gope_
Male -- _crahl_
Man -- _sing no_
Mandoline -- _krob_
Mangosteen -- _play semmetah_
Many -- _jeho e_
Medicine -- _penglie_ (ie _as in_ lie)
Moon -- _ghecheck_
Monkey -- _dak_
" (with long tail) -- _raoh_
Mouth -- _eneoong_
Morning -- _pawr_
Mother -- _amay_, _kennen_, _kenung_
" (in-law) -- _tennah abbay_
Mountain -- _lot, loop_
Night -- _sin oar_
No -- _pay neay'_
Noon -- _dahjis_
Nose -- _moh_
Old -- _din grah_
One -- _nahnaw_
People -- _my_
Plain -- _barrow_
Pond -- _tebbahov_
Poison -- _chingrah_
Quiver -- _lock_
Rage -- _roh_
Rain -- _mahny_
Rat -- _hay loy_
Rice -- _bah_
River -- _tayhoo_
Season -- _moosin_
Sing -- _jeoolah_
Sister -- _kaynah_
" (elder) -- _taynah kaynah_
" (younger) -- _mennang kaynah_
Sky -- _sooey_
Sleep -- _bet bet_
Slumber -- _n' tahk_
Snake -- _teegee_
Sorcerer -- _ahlah_
Spirit -- _ghenigh nee_
" (Evil) -- _ahtoo_
Star -- _pearloy_
Storm -- _poss_
Sun -- _mahjis_
Thunder -- _nghoo_
Thunder-bolt -- _nahkoo_
Tiger -- _mah moot_, _mah noos_
Tobacco -- _bahkoo_
Tree -- _jehoo oo_
Two -- _nahr_
Valley -- _wawk_
Water -- _tayhoo_
" for drinking -- " _engot_
Wedding -- _ba' kaynah_
Wife -- _kay el_
Wild boar -- _loo_
Will, wish, want -- _engot_
Wind -- _poy_
Woman -- _knah_, _caredawl_
Yes -- _aye ay._[12]
* * * * *
This poor language that seems to be composed of short coughs does not
even lose its roughness in song, if I may so term the musical (?) sounds
that proceed from the Sakais' mouths, because real songs they have none.
They are accustomed, however, to improvise something of the sort in
which they always allude to facts of the day but as there is nobody to
collect these fragments of extemporaneous ballads they disappear from
the world of memories as quickly as they have been put together.
It is for this that all my endeavours have been in vain to find amongst
them some song transmitted from father to son which by referring to an
event more or less remote might serve as a clue to the legends or
history of this mysterious people. But nothing of the kind exists and
not even in talking can they narrate anything farther, back than three
or four generations. They could not tell you if the sun and the forest
were in existence before their great-grandfather lived. One cannot
wonder much at this, though, when it is known that these poor
inhabitants of the wildest parts of the jungle can scarcely reckon
beyond three and have no means of counting time.
With them the first three numbers are not followed by a series of others
which always increase by one but from _neer_ (three) it is rare that
they pass to _neer nahnò_ (three one) jumping instead to _neer neer_
(three three), and by this addition they express number six. They use
the words _neer neer nahnò_ for seven and then jump again to _neer neer
neer_ which means nine.
When a birth, a death or any other event takes place which requires the
exact period of seven days for the accomplishment of certain ceremonies
according to their habit, the Sakai takes a strip of reed or rattan
(splitting it into parts to make it flexible) with which he ties two
groups of three knots each and a single one apart. Every day he undoes
one of these knots and so knows when the time prescribed is finished.
If you ask him whether it would not be better for him to learn to count
at least as far as seven, a number that for one thing or another is
frequently necessary in his life, he answers you invariably:
"We know nothing. Our fathers did so and we too will do the same without
being too fantastical".
Thus we see that the saying: "My father did so", may be an inveterate
enemy of arithmetic whilst it establishes a close relationship between
those who in civilized society put it into practice and the savages
dwelling on the heights of Perak.
The Sakai renounces all attempts at counting more than nine, and his
total abstention from commercial persuits permits him to spare his brain
this fatigue.
[Illustration: Two more solid huts.
_p._ 166.]
Returning from a day's shooting, if they have had luck, my good friends
do not trouble themselves much over counting the heads of game they have
brought home. They will perhaps begin by placing their victims in groups
of _neer_ (three) until they amount to three threes but should the
number exceed nine they simply declare them to be _jeho e_ (many) and do
not care about knowing anything more precise as they are satisfied at
the fact that they, and any of their relations who like to partake of
the feast, can live upon game until it is all finished.
Many times I have amused myself by asking a prolific father or mother
how many children they had. My friends would get as far as three but
then becoming confused would beg me to count them for myself, and their
offspring had to pass in front of me whilst they called each by name,
for example: _Roy_ (boy) _No_ (boy) _Taynah_ (girl) _Po lo_ (boy) _Tay
lep_ (girl) _Betah_ (girl).
Counting them upon my fingers I would tell the parent or parents that
they were six, to which they agreed with:
"If you say they are six, they are six".
It is more difficult still for the Sakais to count time. They imagine
pretty nearly what hour it is by the position of the sun overhead or
from the various sounds which come from the forest announcing, as I have
already said, morning, noon, and evening, and during the night the
_crescendo_ and _diminuendo_ of the wild beasts' roaring proclaim the
hours before and after midnight.
The shortest measure of time that the Sakais understand is that employed
in smoking a cigarette.
They observe, although not with much precision, the phases of the moon
that they gladly greet at her appearance but they do not feel any
curiosity in knowing where she has gone and where she remains when they
do not enjoy her soft light at night and during their dances.
The flowering of certain plants and the ripening of certain fruits gives
the Sakai a faint idea of the longest period of time they are capable of
imagining and which is about equal to our year. The seasons, which
cannot here be recognized by diversity of temperature, are distinguished
by the gathering and storing away of those fruits that supply them with
food at regular intervals of time, such as the _durian_ season, that of
the _buà pra_, the _dukon_ and the _giù blo lol_.
I think it would be quite impossible to find out the right age of a
Sakai. Sometimes after the birth of a child its parents will cut a notch
in the bark of a tree every time the season when he was born returns.
But these signs never continue very long because even if the father or
mother have not been compelled to abandon their tree-register to follow
their clan to another part of the forest, after the third or fourth
incision they easily forget to keep up the practice.
* * * * *
When as often happens a Sakai has to undertake a journey of more than
three days as in the case of seeking a wife or of making a large
provision of tobacco for all the encampment, both he and those left
behind have recourse to a novel calendar in order to remember how many
days he is absent. They pick up some small stones or little sticks and
dividing them into threes the traveller carries away a half with him
leaving the rest with his family. At the end of every day those at home
and the one who has departed throw away one of these stones or sticks.
When the little stock is finished the Sakai is sure to return because he
knows very well that any further delay would be the cause of grave
apprehensions and anxiety to his dear ones which he is eager to spare
them.
Some of them adopt the same system on this occasion as when counting the
days of traditional ceremonies, that is by the tying and untying of
knots in a strip of _scudiscio_.[13]
* * * * *
Amongst those Oriental peoples not yet civilized the Sakais are the
least known, and yet I firmly believe that they could surpass the others
in intelligence--as they undoubtedly excel them in solid moral
qualities--if they were to be made the object of assiduous care and
benevolent interest.
Once these poor jungle dwellers could be brought to have full confidence
in their white protectors, it seems to me that the best thing which
could be done for them would be to induce them, by degrees, to dedicate
themselves to agriculture.
But their aversion to any kind of labour cannot be overcome by coercive
means or evangelical preaching. They would rebel as much against one as
the other for they wish to be absolute masters of their own will and
their own conscience. And this liberty of thought and action must be
left them whilst very slowly and with great patience, by force of
example and gentle persuasion, they are made to understand that by doing
what we want they are giving us a pleasure which will be largely
compensated with tobacco and with the numerous trifles that are the joy
and vanity of savages.
He who would dream of redeeming them from their present ignorant state
by treating them arbitrarily and thereby hurting their feelings and
insulting their beliefs would find his undertaking not only fruitless
but also dangerous because he would be immediately considered an enemy
and the _Alà_ would not fail to incite vengeance upon him in the
troubled spirits of the tribe.
I think the method most promising in its results is that which I myself
have proved. I slipped in amidst them, living the life that they live
and respecting their opinions and superstitions, at the same time
seeking indirectly to cure them of their natural laziness.
The Sakais are nomadic for two reasons: first, because when they have
exhausted, by their prodigality, the edible treasures that the forest
soil produces for them without need of toil, in the tract of land within
reach of their settlement, they change their residence to a fresh
quarter where this uncultivated product is for a long time in
superabundance; secondly, because when somebody of their number dies
they believe that an evil spirit has entered their village and that to
free themselves from its malignant influence it is necessary to fly to
another part.
Well, more than once I have made a point of sleeping in a hut lately
visited by death to show them how absurd the idea is. At first they
stood afar, looking at the forsaken spot and believing that I, too, was
dead, but afterwards finding, to their immense wonder, that I was still
alive and well, they began to doubt their own superstition and to build
their huts a little more solid so that they might be of greater
durability.
Overthrown in a definite manner one of the motives of their wanderings
the other would cease to exist from the moment they were taught to work
the ground. With this scope in view, from time to time, I make a
distribution of padi or maize and am glad to see that little by little
the miserable plots once rudely sown with corn are now becoming ample
fields.
Like the old philosopher I found in the forest, the other Sakais have
never thought, or rather let themselves think, what a boon it would be
for them to grow the things they like best, around their huts, instead
of feeling obliged to get it from others, and they evidently shared his
dislike to torturing the earth with iron, for before my advent and
sojourn amongst them they simply burnt the pith of the trees and plants
they felled and into the bed formed by the ashes they cast
indiscriminately bulb and grain, covering up both with their feet or
with a piece of wood, and afterwards they took no more care of it.
But this pretence of cultivation was nothing less than a greedy caprice
and did not in any way help their domestic economy. The products of the
planting which had cost them so little fatigue was deemed surplus food
and they would eat up in a few days what might have lasted them for
months, inviting friends even lazier than themselves (who had not taken
the trouble so much as to imitate this rudimental mode of agriculture)
to take part in the gorging feast.
It would be a real blessing to those Sakais who have already begun to
cultivate their fields, to work with me in the plantations I am making,
to help me in gathering in jungle produce and to apply themselves to
some simple industry, if a few good-hearted, thrifty families of
European agriculturists were to come and dwell amongst them. In this way
my forest friends would make rapid and immense progress for they have
already shown their aptitude and ability and the British Government
would in a very short time have a flourishing colony by thus bringing
them into direct contact with a wholesome civilization consisting of
kindness, rectitude and honest work without their losing any of their
characteristic integrity through the contaminating influence of spurious
evolutionary principles.
It is true that the wide dominions of England claim an immense amount of
care and energy but her rulers display sufficient activity and wisdom
for the need and would have no cause to regret, but rather rejoice, if
they were to extend their beneficence to the far off worthy tribes of
Sakais now wandering over Perak and Pahang.
* * * * *
Returning to the character of my no-longer new friends I must really
repeat that we should be fortunate if we could find similar traits in
many of the persons belonging to civilized society.
Whether I am prejudiced by the sympathy I feel for this people amongst
whom I live, and who have granted me hospitality without any limit, I
will leave you to judge, kind reader, you who have the patience to
peruse these modest pages written, not from an impulse of personal
vanity, but in all sincerity, and whose only aim is to do good to the
poor Sakais, unknown to the world in general and slandered by those who
know them and who are interested in preventing any sort of intercourse
with other outsiders besides themselves.
Nobody has ever been to teach the Sakai to be honest and as no kind of
moral maxims are known by them it stands to reason that this honesty
which speaks in their looks, words and acts depends upon their natural
sweet temper and their way of living.
The real Sakai recoils from everything approaching violence and never
assaults a fellow creature unless he believes himself or his family
seriously menaced or badly treated.
[Illustration: A young man procuring food with his blowpipe.
_p._ 169.]
Paolo Mantegazza has written that the nature of a weapon indicates not
only the technical ability of a race but also its degree of ferocity.
All those arms which serve to make suffer instead of to kill are certain
signs of cruelty.
Well, the Sakai inflicts no suffering upon his foe. The terrible poisons
with which he tinges his fatal arrows cause almost immediate death, and
his sole motive for killing is to rid himself of one whom he thinks will
do him harm, but should his enemy run away before he can hit him he
would neither follow nor lay an ambush for him. He might almost take as
his motto the celebrated line by Niccolini:
Ripassi l'Alpi e tornerà fratello.[14]
Even if their gentle, peaceable characters did not disincline them for a
deed of crime, if their indolence and lack of passionate feelings were
not safe-guards from evil-doing the entire absence of incentive power
prevents them from committing a guilty action. Why should they rob when
their neighbours' goods are also theirs? When everything is everybody's,
be it a rich supply of meat, fruit, grain, tobacco or accomodation in a
sheltered hut? And why should they kill anybody?
For pure malignity? Because there is no other reason to prompt such a
wickedness. They have no excuse for jealousy, even if they were capable
of entertaining it, for when two young people are fond of each other no
pressure is ever made upon them to suffocate their love or to fix their
affections upon another through ambition or some sort of hypocritical
respect for the usages of society. If the enamoured swain can manage his
blowpipe ably enough to procure animal food for his wife their amorous
desires are at once contented. And so is the custom among more mature
couples. Should it happen that a man no longer cares for his wife or a
woman for her husband (which seldom befalls) or should they have met
with somebody else that they like better, no demoralizing
love-intrigue, or guilty flirtation is the consequence; they simply
announce their change of feeling to their conjugal half and if the
latter still cherishes a sincere attachment for the faithless partner in
wedlock he or she will hasten to make the other happy by giving up all
claim upon the loved one and they agree to part upon the best of terms,
as also they do when by chance they are reciprocally tired of one
another's company. The fact does not give rise to drama, tragedy or
Othello-like fury.
Now tell me under what impulse can the Sakai become a criminal?
He is honest and sincere from the kindness and indolence of his
character, because of the free life which is his, and the society of
people like himself, not because he fears being punished or has any hope
of a prize in Heaven.
Will not this strange fact induce some genius of the State to meditate
the subject, there being full proof that the alliance of Prison and Hell
does not succeed in eradicating the seeds of corruption and crime in
civilized nations?
This innate honesty of the Sakai is especially revealed in the manner he
respects whatever engagement he has, of his own accord, assumed.
Mistrustful in dealing with others, violent and apparently overmastering
from the vivacity with which he speaks and gesticulates, as soon as the
bargain is fixed he will keep it faithfully to the very letter.
In conformity with the custom that both the Sakai of the hills and his
brother of the plain have of not providing for the future, he will
consume even beforehand his share of the exchange agreed upon, but all
the same he will perform his duties towards the other with the most
scrupulous punctuality.
Many times I have intentionally left outside my cabin such articles as
would excite in the Sakais a desire of possession, but upon my return I
have always found them intact and in their right place. My habitation is
always open, even when I am far away but I have never missed a single
object.
A little from habit, a little from the virtue I have frequently
mentioned, and a little, very likely, because he is too lazy to be
otherwise, the Sakai is a just and upright man. He has a great respect
for the old, seeks their advice, and--what is much more--follows it; he
has a deep sense of gratitude, is unselfish, open-hearted and
open-handed, and ever ready to do a service to those who belong to his
own village. And this exclusiveness is one of the curious contrasts that
may sometimes be noted in human nature.
Meeting upon his road a person who is evidently suffering and has need
of aid, if he does not recognize in him, or her, one of his own tribe he
will pass on with indifference and grumble out cynically: "All the worse
for them". But if the same person were to make an appeal to his charity
on the threshold of his rude home, he or she would receive hospitality
without being known, and in the event of an accident or any other
misfortune which has occasioned grief or trouble to a kinsman, however
distant, he will share in their affliction, and do all he can to relieve
them in their distress.
After all this, that close and continual observation permits me to
affirm, may I not ask the public, or at least those who have followed me
in my rambling notes until now: might not this type of savage be held up
as an example of perfection to many of our acquaintances in the
civilized world whose boundary line of honesty is where it ceases to
bring profit, who scorn the thought of gratitude for a favour received
as being inconsistent with their "spirit of independence" and who never
lose an occasion for exemplifying the tender brotherly love of Cain?
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 12: The author of this book has given the pronunciation of the
above words according to the sounds and rules of Italian and it has been
a difficult task to present them in a sufficiently orthoepical form for
English readers to understand, for the reason that all the vowels and
many of the consonants are so differently articulated in the two
languages.
Where _a_ is followed by _h_ it should be pronounced as in _father_; by
_w_ as in _all_; by _y_ as in _may_. The consonants _g_ _k_ and _n_
which precede certain words and which would be mute in English must be
very lightly accented with the same sound they have in the
alphabet.--_Translator's Notes._]
[Footnote 13: The _scudiscio_ is a very large fungus that grows upon
trees. It is easily broken into strips which the Indigines use for tying
up things and for putting round their necks to protect them from fever.
The Sakais call it _tennak kahràh_ that means literally "the root of a
stone".]
[Footnote 14: Go back over the Alps and we shall be brothers again.]