Part 4 (1/2)
The chief was a tall, fine-looking man, the personification of physical strength combined with a dignified bearing. He readily granted permission to photograph the women coming down to the river to fetch water. The Kenyah women wear scantier attire than those of any other tribes of Borneo--simply a diminutive piece of cloth. It was picturesque to see these children of nature descend the steps of the rough ladder that leads down to the river, gracefully carrying on their backs a load of five or six bamboos, then wade into the calm water, where they bathed for a few moments before filling their receptacles. The Kenyah drinks water by taking it up in his hands while looking at it. In the house he drinks from the bamboo utensils which are always conveniently placed. The Malay throws water quickly into his mouth with his right hand.
There seemed to be an epidemic of cholerine among the children, three having already died and one succ.u.mbed while we were at the kampong. The sounding of a gong drew attention to this fact and people a.s.sembled at the house of mourning where they wailed for an hour. The fis.h.i.+ng was postponed one day on account of the burial, and the work of making the coffin could be heard over on our side of the river. During the night there was much crying.
Next day at noon the funeral took place. First, with quick steps, came two men and two women, parents of children who had died before, followed by the father of the dead child and another man of the family who carried the coffin. The procession embarked in three prahus. The relatives were all attired in simple but becoming mourning garments, made from wood-fibre, consisting of tunics, and wrappers around the loins, which as regards the women covered practically the whole body, and on their heads they wore pointed hats of the same material. In the first prahu the little coffin was placed, and immediately behind it the mother lay with face down. Over her breast was a broad band of fibre which pa.s.sed around to the back where it was tied in a large bow. The mourning garb worn in this and other Dayak tribes by relatives of a deceased person is an attempt to elude the evil spirit (antoh) who is regarded as the cause of death and whose wrath the remaining relatives are anxious to evade by disguising themselves in this way. The men poled fast, and ten minutes later the cortege ascended the bank without following a path, and deposited the coffin in a small, old-looking house. Once daily for three days food is deposited near a dead child, while in the case of adults it is given for a long time.
The following day we all started up the river for the great catch. About 300 Dayaks had gathered, with 80 prahus. There were people from as far east as Kaburau, but those of the kampongs west of Long Pangian did not appear as expected. Some of the men carried spears specially devised for fis.h.i.+ng, and some had brought their s.h.i.+elds. We pa.s.sed seven traps, in Kenyah called ”bring,” some in course of making, and others already finished. These rapidly made structures were found at different points on the river. Each consisted of a fence of slightly leaning poles, sometimes fortified with mats, running across the river and interrupted in the middle by a well-constructed trough, the bottom of which was made from poles put closely together, which allowed the water to escape but left the fish dry.
The poison which stupefies or even kills the fish, without making it unfit for food, is secured from the root of a plant called tuba and described to me as being a vine. The root, which is very long, had been cut up into short pieces and made into about 1,800 small bundles, each kampong contributing its share. The packages had been formed into a beautifully arranged pile, in accordance with the artistic propensities of both Kenyah and Kayan, whose wood-stacks inside the rooms are models of neatness. The heap in this case was two and a half metres long and a metre high, a surprisingly small amount for the poisoning of a whole river.
Before daylight they began to beat these light-brown tuba pieces until the bark became detached. The bark is the only part used, and this was beaten on two previously prepared blocks, each consisting of two logs lashed together, with flattened upper sides. On either side of these crude tables stood as many men as could find room, beating earnestly with sticks upon the bark, singing head-hunting songs the while with much fervour.
Occasionally they interrupted the procedure to run about animatedly, returning shortly to resume their labour.
Later an augury was to be taken, and all gathered closely on a wide pebbly beach. First a long piece of root, which is called the ”mother of tuba,”
was beaten vigorously by a number of men. Then one of the princ.i.p.al actors stepped forward and began to make fire in the old-fas.h.i.+oned way, _i.e._, by pulling with both hands a piece of rattan around a bamboo stick held to the ground. According to several possibilities the divinations are expounded: Should the rattan break before smoke ensues, the undertaking is postponed for an hour or two; if the rattan breaks into two equal parts, fish will not be caught; but if the right-hand piece is longer than the left, all is well and much fish will be the result.
The a.s.semblage was chewing betel, smoking tobacco, and with hopeful patience antic.i.p.ating a successful outcome, while one chief after another vainly attempted the augury. Only men who have taken heads are permitted to make divinations of fire at the tuba-fis.h.i.+ng, and if all the elders have tried and failed the fis.h.i.+ng is delayed one day.
The same augury is used when dogs have run away. If the left-hand piece is the longer, the dog is dead; if of the same size, the dog will be found at a distant future time; but if the right is the longer, the animal will be recovered very soon. The reading of pig's liver in regard to the present or the future is used more by the Kayan than by the Kenyah.
It was after nine o'clock in the morning when success was attained, and the fishers all suddenly dispersed. Some of them carried beaten bark into four empty prahus, threw water over it with their hands, then beat it again, until finally it was crushed to shreds. The prahus were then turned over and the stuff emptied into the water, where it soon disappeared. The bark on the blocks, which by this time had the appearance of a reddish-brown fibre, was now thrown into the river with much shouting and running about, whereupon the men ran out of sight, probably to take to their prahus.
The majority of the stupefied fish are caught in the so-called ”bring,”
the traps running across the river, but frantic endeavours were made by those engaged in the sport to take the fish before the fences were reached, and for this purpose hand nets or spears were used. This part of the proceeding was most entertaining.
The fleet of prahus thoroughly searched the water, descending the river slowly in seven hours. At a few places where the stream makes large pools a few hundred metres long the boats loitered for a considerable time, as the prey would not often rise to the surface. Now and then there was much excitement over a fish that had risen and dived again, and the nearest prahus would all try to get it. Soon a man would be seen to jump after it with fixed spear, pa.s.s out of view, and after a while reappear on the surface, invariably with a large fish on the spear point. It was a magnificent exhibition of agility combined with skill.
The Malays also captured many victims with their casting-nets. It is customary for each to consider as his personal property all the fish he obtains. These gatherings afford much delight to the children, of whom a great number accompanied their elders in the prahus. Women and children were in holiday attire, and, in spite of the grotesque ornaments of big rings in the split, distended ear-lobes, the latter were unusually charming. They had bracelets of bra.s.s and silver around their wrists and ankles; some of them wore necklaces of antique beads in dull colors, yellow, dark brown, or deep blue. Such a necklace may cost over a thousand florins. The spirit of the whole occasion was like that of a great picnic.
All was over at five o'clock in the afternoon, when the people dispersed to their respective kampongs. At each of the seven ”bring,” each belonging to one of the princ.i.p.al men, were caught from 100 to 200 fish, most of them fairly large. I noted seven species. More than a thousand have been caught, and for the next two nights and days the people were engaged in opening and drying fish over fire and smoke. Thus preserved they are of a dark-brown tint, very light in weight, and will keep for three months.
Before the dried product is eaten it is pounded, then boiled, and with each mouthful a pinch of salt is taken.
During the night much fish was obtained even as far down the river as our kampong, and many men searched for it here, using as lamps petroleum in bamboo with a piece of cloth for a wick. Next day all the able-bodied people left the kampong for a week's stay at the ladangs (fields), one day's journey up the Kayan River, only the weak and old people remaining behind. On this occasion I observed five or six individuals, men and women, of a markedly light, yellowish colour. One woman's body was as light as that of a white woman, but her face was of the usual colour, perhaps somewhat lighter.
CHAPTER VIII
THE JOURNEY CONTINUED UP THE KAYAN RIVER--FIRST EXPERIENCE OF KIHAMS, OR RAPIDS--WITH KENYAH BOATMEN--ADVANTAGE OF NATIVE COOKING--LONG PELABAN--THE ATTRACTIVE KENYAHS--SOCIAL STRATA--CUSTOMS AND HABITS--VALUABLE BEADS
At Long Pangian several days were spent in vain efforts to secure men and prahus to continue the journey up the Kayan River. The few Malays about, as usual, did not believe in work, but the posthouder finally succeeded in calling Kenyahs from the river above, and on the 1st of May we started with five prahus and twenty-four men. It was quite refres.h.i.+ng to hear again the joyous shouts of the paddlers, who worked eagerly and quickly against the strong current. A little over an hour brought us to some well-known rapids, or ”kihams,” as they usually are called in Borneo.
Formerly this Kiham Raja had a bad reputation, Dayaks being killed here occasionally every year, but of late the government has blasted out rocks and made it more pa.s.sable. However, even now it is no trifle to negotiate these rapids. Below them we halted and threw explosive Favier into the water in the hope of getting fish, and as soon as the upheaval of the water began the Kenyahs, as if by a given signal, hurried all the prahus out to the scene. With other natives than Dayaks this would have given me some anxiety, as the boats were heavily laden and contained valuable cameras and instruments. We secured quite a number of fish and the Kenyahs had a good time.
The traveller soon a.s.sumes a feeling of confidence in these experienced men as, according to circ.u.mstances, they paddle, pole, or drag the prahu by a long piece of rattan tied to the inside of the bow. In pa.s.sing these rapids most of them got out and dragged us by the rattan, but as the sh.o.r.e consisted of big stones that sometimes were inaccessible, they would often throw themselves with the rope into the foaming water and manage to get foothold a little further up. Sometimes it looked as if they would not succeed, the prahu receding precariously, but they were so quick in their movements and the prahus followed each other so closely that it was possible to give mutual help.
Amban Klesau, the only son of the chief of Long Mahan, directed my prahu.
He had taken part in an expedition to New Guinea and was an efficient and pleasant man who had seen something of the world, but his attire was fantastic, consisting of a long white nights.h.i.+rt with a thin red girdle around the waist, to which was attached his parang adorned with many ornaments. He liked that s.h.i.+rt, for he did not take it off all day, notwithstanding the extreme heat. The dry season had set in, and though in our travels I took good care to place mats over the iron boxes in which cameras and plates were kept, still they became warm. When I photographed, perspiration fell like rain-drops. At Long Mahan (mahan = difficulties, or time spent) we found the pasang-grahan occupied by travelling Malays, two of whom were ill from a disease resembling cholera, so we moved on to a ladang a little higher up, where we found a camping-site.