Part 8 (1/2)
In October a patrouille of seventeen native soldiers and nine native convicts, under command of a lieutenant, pa.s.sed through the kampong. In the same month in 1907 a patrouille had been killed here by the Murungs.
It must be admitted that the Dayaks had reason to be aggrieved against the lieutenant, who had sent two Malays from Tumbang Topu to bring to him the kapala's attractive wife--an order which was obeyed with a tragic sequence. The following night, which the military contingent pa.s.sed at the kampong of the outraged kapala, the lieutenant and thirteen soldiers were killed. Of course the Dayaks had to be punished; the government, however, took the provocation into account.
The kapala's wife and a female companion demanded two florins each for telling folklore, whereupon I expressed a wish first to hear what they were able to tell. The companion insisted on the money first, but the kapala's wife, who was a very nice woman, began to sing, her friend frequently joining in the song. This was the initial prayer, without which there could be no story-telling. She was a blian, and her way of relating legends was to delineate stories in song form, she informed me. As there was n.o.body to interpret I was reluctantly compelled to dispense with her demonstration, although I had found it interesting to watch the strange expression of her eyes as she sang and the trance-like appearance she maintained. Another noticeable fact was the intense attachment of her dogs, which centred their eyes constantly upon her and accompanied her movements with strange guttural sounds.
With the Murungs, six teeth in the upper front jaw and six in the under one are filed off, and there is no pain a.s.sociated with the operation. The kapala had had his teeth cut three times, first as a boy, then when he had one child, and again when he had four children. The teeth of one of the blians had been filed twice, once when he was a boy and again when he had two children.
If a man has the means he is free to take four wives, who may all be sisters if he so desires. As to the number of wives a man is allowed to acquire, no exception is made in regard to the kapala. A brother is permitted to marry his sister, and my informant said that the children resulting from this union are strong; but, on the other hand, it is forbidden for cousins to marry, and a still worse offence is for a man to marry the mother of his wife or the sister of one's father or mother. If that transgression has been committed the culprit must pay from one to two hundred rupias, or if he cannot pay he must be killed with parang or klevang (long knife). The children of such union are believed to become weak.
When twelve years of age girls are regarded as marriageable, and s.e.xual relations are absolutely free until marriage; in fact, if she chooses to have a young man share her mat it is considered by no means improper. If a girl should be left with child and the father cannot be found she is married to somebody else, though no man is forced to wed her. Marriage relations are very strict and heavy fines are imposed on people at fault, but divorces may be had provided payment is made, and a widow may remarry if she desires to do so.
When a person dies there is much wailing, and if the deceased is a father or mother people of the same house do not sleep for three days. The corpse remains in the house three days, during which time a root called javau is eaten instead of rice, babi and bananas being also permissible. The body is washed and wrapped in white cotton cloth, bought from Malay traders, and placed in a coffin made of iron-wood. As the coffin must not be carried through the door, the house wall is broken open for it to pa.s.s on its way to a cemetery in the utan. Sometimes as soon as one year afterward, but usually much later, the coffin is opened, the bones are cleaned with water and soap and placed in a new box of the same material or in a guts.h.i.+, an earthen jar bought from the Chinese. The box or jar is then deposited in a subterranean chamber made of iron-wood, called kobur by both Malays and Murungs, where in addition are left the personal effects of the deceased,--clothing, beads, and other ornaments,--and, if a man, also his sumpitan, parang, axe, etc. This disposition of the bones is accompanied by a very elaborate feast, generally called tiwah, to the preparation of which much time is devoted.
According to a conception which is more or less general among the Dayaks, conditions surrounding the final home of the departed soul are on the whole similar to those existing here, but before the tiwah feast has been observed the soul is compelled to roam about in the jungle three or four years, or longer, until that event takes place. This elaborate ceremony is offered by surviving relatives as an equivalent for whatever was left behind by the deceased, whose ghost is regarded with apprehension.
Fortunately the Murungs were then preparing for such an observance at the Bundang kampong higher up the river where I intended to visit. They were making ready to dispose of the remains of no less a personage than the mother of our kapala. A water-buffalo would be killed and the festival would last for a week. In three years there would be another festal occasion of two weeks' duration, at which a water-buffalo would again be sacrificed, and when a second period of three years has elapsed the final celebration of three weeks' duration will be given, with the same sacrificial offering. Thus the occasions are seen to be of increasing magnitude and the expenses in this case to be on a rising scale. It was comparatively a small affair.
About a month later, when I stopped at Buntok, on the Barito, the controleur of the district told me that an unusually great tiwah feast had just been concluded in the neighbourhood. He had spent ten days there, the Dayaks having erected a house for him to stay in. More than two hundred pigs and nineteen water-buffaloes had been killed. Over three hundred bodies, or rather remains of bodies, had previously been exhumed and placed in forty boxes, for the accommodation of which a special house had been constructed. These, with contents, were burned and the remains deposited in ten receptacles made of iron-wood, those belonging to one family being put in the same container.
Some of the Dayaks were much preoccupied with preparations for the Bundang ceremony, which was postponed again and again. They encouraged me to partic.i.p.ate in the festivities, representing it as a wonderful affair. I presented them with money to buy a sack of rice for the coming occasion, and some of them went at once to Puruk Tjahu to purchase it. Having overcome the usual difficulties in regard to getting prahus and men, and Mr. Demmini having recovered from a week's illness, I was finally, early in November, able to move on. Several people from our kampong went the same day, and it looked as if the feast were really about to take place.
We proceeded with uneventful rapidity up-stream on a lovely day, warm but not oppressively so, and in the afternoon arrived at Bundang, which is a pleasant little kampong. The Dayaks here have three small houses and the Malays have five still smaller. A big water-buffalo, which had been brought from far away to be sacrificed at the coming ceremonial, was grazing in a small field near by. The surrounding scenery was attractive, having in the background a jungle-clad mountain some distance away, which was called by the same name as the kampong, and which, in the clear air against the blue sky, completed a charming picture. We found a primitive, tiny pasang-grahan, inconveniently small for more than one person, and there was hardly s.p.a.ce on which to erect my tent.
There appeared to be more Siangs than Murungs here, the former, who are neighbours and evidently allied to the latter, occupying the inland to the north of the great rivers on which the Murungs are chiefly settled, part of the Barito and the Laong. They were shy, friendly natives, and distinguished by well-grown mustaches, an appendage I also later noted among the Upper Katingans. The people told me that I might photograph the arrangements incident to the feast as much as I desired, and also promised to furnish prahus and men when I wished to leave.
The following day Mr. Demmini seemed worse than before, being unable to sleep and without appet.i.te. The festival was to begin in two days, but much to my regret there seemed nothing else to do but to return to Puruk Tjahu. The Dayaks proposed to take the sick man there if I would remain, but he protested against this, and I decided that we should all leave the following day. In the evening I attended the dancing of the Dayak women around an artificial tree made up of bamboo stalks and branches so as to form a very thick trunk. The dancing at the tiwa feast, or connected with it, is of a different character and meaning from the general performance which is to attract good antohs. This one is meant to give pleasure to the departed soul. The scene was inside one of the houses, and fourteen or fifteen different dances were performed, one of them obscene, but presented and accepted with the same seriousness as the other varieties.
Some small girls danced extraordinarily well, and their movements were fairylike in unaffected grace.
Enjoying the very pleasant air after the night's rain, we travelled rapidly down-stream on the swollen river to Tumbang Marowei, where we spent the night. There were twenty men from the kampong eager to accompany me on my further journey, but they were swayed to and fro according to the dictates of the kapala, who was resolutely opposed to letting other kampongs obtain possession of us. He wanted to reserve for himself and the kampong the advantages accruing from our need of prahus and men. To his chagrin, in the morning there arrived a large prahu with four Murungs from Batu Boa, who also wanted a chance at this bonanza, whereupon the kapala began to develop schemes to hara.s.s us and to compel me to pay more.
Without any reason whatsoever, he said that only ten of the twenty men I had engaged would be able to go. This did not frighten me much, as the river was swollen and the current strong, so that one man in each of our prahus would be sufficient to allow us to drift down to the nearest Malay kampong, where I had been promised men some time before. At first I was quite concerned about the loading of the prahus, as the natives all exhibited a marked disinclination to work, the kapala, as a matter of fact, having ordered a strike. However, with the ten men allowed I was able by degrees to bring all our goods down to the river bank, whereupon the kapala, seeing that I was not to be intimidated, permitted the rest of the men to proceed.
It was an unpleasant affair, which was aggravated by what followed, and was utterly at variance with my other experiences during two years among the Dayaks. I was greatly surprised to observe that some of the men who had been loitering near our goods on the bank of the river had begun to carry off a number of large empty tins which had been placed there ready for s.h.i.+pment. These are difficult to procure, and being very necessary for conveying rice, salt, and other things, I had declined to give them away.
The natives had always been welcome to the small tin cans, also greatly in favour with them. Milk and jam tins are especially in demand, and after they have been thrown away the Dayaks invariably ask if they may have them. As they are very dexterous in wood-work they make nicely carved wooden covers for the tins, in which to keep tobacco or other articles.
Returning from one of many tours I had made back to the house from where our belongings were taken, I caught sight of three Murungs running as fast as they could, each carrying two large tins, the kapala calmly looking on.
I told him that unless they were immediately returned I should report the matter to the government. This had the desired effect, and at his order no less than sixteen large tins were promptly produced.
This was surprising, but as a faithful chronicler of things Bornean I feel obliged to tell the incident, the explanation of which to a great extent is the fact that the natives here have been too susceptible to the demoralising Malay influence which has overcome their natural scruples about stealing. It must be admitted that the Dayaks wherever I have been are fond of w.a.n.g (money), and they are inclined to charge high prices for the articles they are asked to sell. They have, if you like, a childish greed, which, however, is curbed by the influence of their religious belief before it has carried them to the point of stealing. Under continued Malay influence the innate longing for the possession of things very much desired overwhelms them and conquers their scruples.
We afterward discovered that several things were missing, of no great importance except a round black tin case containing thermometers and small instruments, which without doubt had been appropriated by the owner of the house where we had been staying. Two or three weeks previously he had begged me to let him have it, as he liked it much and needed it. I said that was impossible, but evidently he thought otherwise. Perhaps the Murungs are more avaricious than other tribes. I was told in Puruk Tjahu that they were greedy, and it seems also as if their scruples about stealing are less acute than elsewhere in Borneo. The reputation of the Dayaks for honesty is great among all who know them. As far as my knowledge goes the Murungs are mild-mannered and polite, but not particularly intelligent. The higher-cla.s.s people, however, are intelligent and alert, manifesting firmness and strength of mind.
It was one o'clock before we were able to start, but circ.u.mstances favoured us, and after dark we reached the kampong at the mouth of the Laong River, where we made ourselves quite comfortable on the landing float, and I rejoiced at our recent escape from an unpleasant situation.
The following day we arrived at Puruk Tjahu. After a few days' stay it was found expedient to return to Bandjermasin before starting on the proposed expedition through Central Borneo. A small steamer belonging to the Royal Packet Boat Company maintains fortnightly connections between the two places, and it takes only a little over two days to go down-stream.
CHAPTER XV
FINAL START FOR CENTRAL BORNEO--CHRISTMAS TIME--EXTENT OF MALAY INFLUENCE--THE FLOWERS OF EQUATORIAL REGIONS--AT AN OT-DANUM KAMPONG--THE PICTURESQUE KIHAMS, OR RAPIDS--FORMIDABLE OBSTACLES TO TRAVEL--MALAYS ON STRIKE
Having arranged various matters connected with the expedition, in the beginning of December we made our final start from Bandjermasin in the _Otto_, which the resident again courteously placed at my disposal. Our party was augmented by a military escort, under command of Onder-Lieutenant J. Van Dijl, consisting of one Javanese sergeant and six native soldiers, most of them Javanese. At midday the surface of the water was absolutely without a ripple, and the broad expanse of the river, ever winding in large curves, reflected the sky and the low jungle on either side with bewildering faithfulness. At night the stars were reflected in the water in the same extraordinary way.