Part 20 (2/2)
In the morning the Malays were again too late. I was ready for a start at six o'clock, but about that time they began to cook. The small river, perhaps twenty metres wide, is deep enough to have allowed a steam-launch of the _Selatan's_ dimensions to go as far as the kampong Rongkang, our first destination, and there is little current. At five o'clock we had to stop to give the men opportunity to prepare their rice, and in the evening we arrived at Rongkang. The gongs were being beaten l.u.s.tily in the darkness; we thought it must be on account of a death, which proved to be the case, a woman having died some days before. The house which was placed at my disposal was more nearly airtight than usual.
The kapala said it was difficult to get men, but he would do his best. A strange epidemic had lately appeared, and some deaths had occurred in the kampongs of this region. In the room I occupied a woman had recently recovered from an attack of a week's duration. The disease, which probably is a variety of cholera, was described to me as being a severe diarrhoea accompanied by vomiting, paralysis, and fever, the crisis occurring in three to five days. The disorder appears to rise from the feet, and if it settles between the liver and heart may prove fatal in half a day. As I learned later, this illness, which the Malays call men-tjo-tjok, is usually present in the inland region of the Sampit River, and is also found on the upper parts of the Kahayan and Pembuang Rivers.
People in this neighbourhood were lappar (hungry), having no rice, and the men were absent in the utan looking for rattan, white damar, and rubber, which they exchange for rice from Chinese traders. Under such circ.u.mstances, chiefly women and children are left in the kampongs. Of nearly thirty men needed for my overland trip, only three could be mustered here. One Dayak who was perfectly well in the evening came next morning to consult me about the prevalent illness which he had contracted during the night. The only available course was to return to Sampit.
The name of the Dayaks here and on Lake Sembulo is Tamoan (or Samoan), with intermixture of Katingans, who are said to understand each other's language. Most of these friendly natives had fair-sized beards, some only mustaches. The elder men complainingly said that the younger ones no longer want to tatu nor cut the front teeth. No haste was apparent about making the coffin for the woman who had been dead four days; although not yet commenced they said it would be completed that day.
The left bank of the river is much higher than the right, which is flooded, therefore the utan on that side presents a very different appearance, with large, fine-looking trees and no dense underbrush. All was fresh and calm after the rain which prevails at this season (February). There were showers during the afternoon, at times heavy, and the Malays were much opposed to getting wet, wanting to stop paddling, notwithstanding the fact that the entire prahu was covered with an atap.
As we approached the mouth of the river, where I intended to camp for the night, I noticed a prahu halting at the rough landing place of a ladang, and as we pa.s.sed it the rain poured down. When the single person who was paddling arose to adjust the scanty wet clothing I perceived that it was a woman, and looking back I discovered her husband snugly at ease under a palm-leaf mat raised as a cover. He was then just rising to walk home.
That is the way the men of Islam treat their women. Even one of the Malay paddlers saw the humour of the situation and laughed.
At Rongkang I was told the legend of the dog that in ancient times had come from the inland of Borneo to Sembulo, where it became progenitor of the tailed people. In various parts of Borneo I heard about natives with short tails, and there are to-day otherwise reliable Dayaks, Malays, and even Chinese, who insist that they have seen them. Especially in regard to their presence at the lake of Sembulo, at the kampong of the same name, the consensus of opinion is strong. That place is the cla.s.sical ground for the rumour of tailed men, and I thought it worth while, before leaving Borneo, to make another attempt later to reach Sembulo and investigate the reasons for the prevalent belief in tailed humans in that locality. The most complete legend on this subject I obtained from a prominent ex-district kapala, Kiai Laman, a Kahayan Dayak converted to Islam. He has travelled much in certain sections of Borneo, is interested in folklore matters, and told his stories without apparent errors or contradictions.
The tale here rendered is from the Ot-Danums on the Upper Kahayan River.
A male dog called Belang started out to hunt for game--pig, deer, plandok.
The kampong heard him bark in the manner common to dogs when on the trail of an animal, and then the baying ceased. The owner watched for the animal to return, but for half a year there was no news of him. In the meantime the dog had gone to Sembulo, making the trip in fifteen days. He appeared there in the shape of a man, took part in the work of the kampong, and married. His wife bore a child who had a tail, not long, about ten centimetres. ”I do not like to tell a lie,” said my raconteur. ”What the s.e.x was I do not know, but people say it was a male infant. She had another child, a female, also with a tail.”
In the ladang the woman thought the crying of her children sounded very strange. ”It is not like that of other infants,” she said. ”Other people have no tails and you have; you look like the children of a dog.” Their father replied: ”In truth I am a dog,” and immediately he resumed his natural form, ran away, and after an interval arrived in the Upper Kahayan, where his owner welcomed him, and the dog lived to old age and died.
In due time the two children married and had large families, all of whom had tails, but since the Malays came and married Sembulo women the tails have become shorter and shorter. At present most of the people have none, and those that remain are not often seen because clothes are now worn; however, many travellers to Sembulo have beheld them.
The rendering from Rongkal is similar, with this difference: The man from Upper Kahayan followed his dog--which at sight of his master resumed canine form--and killed it. According to a Malay version, a raja of Bandjermasin was much disliked and the people made him leave the country.
He took a female dog with him in the prahu and went to Sembulo, where he had children all of whom had tails.
CHAPTER x.x.xV
A VISIT TO KUALA KAPUAS--A BREED OF STUMP-TAILED DOGS--THE SHORT-TAILED CATS OF BORNEO--A SECOND EXPEDITION TO LAKE SEMBULO-NATIVES UNDISMAYED BY BERI-BERI--THE TAMOANS--THE PRACTICE OF INCISION
The second trip to Sembulo had to be postponed until the return of the controleur of Sampit from an extended tour, when the steam-launch _Selatan_ would again be placed at my service. During the weeks of waiting I made a trip to Kuala Kapuas, northwest of Bandjermasin. The Kapuas River is broad here, I should say at least 600 metres; if there is any wind one cannot cross because the prahus are all made of iron-wood and sink easily, owing to the fact that they are heavy and do not accommodate themselves to the waves. A German missionary and family had been here ten years. The children looked a little pale but strong, and had never had malaria nor children's diseases.
I soon became convinced that there was little here for me to learn. The Dayaks have been too long exposed to Malay and European influences, though still able to make splendid mats, for which this place is well known.
Malay ascendancy is strong on the lower courses of the two great rivers that meet here, on the Kapuas as far as Djangkang, on the Kahayan as far as Pahandut. I carried away mud for future zoological examination from the bottom of a pool, ten minutes walk from the sh.o.r.e. There are always small fish in it, and three or four times a year it is flooded. In dry seasons, although not every year, the water of the sea reaches as far as Mandumei.
In Bandjermasin my attention was drawn to an interesting breed of stump-tailed dogs which belonged to Mr. B. Brouers. The mother is a white terrier which has but half a tail, as if cut off. When she had pups, two had stump tails, two had long ones, and one had none; her sister has no tail. Though the fathers are the ordinary yellowish Dayak dogs with long tails, the breed apparently has taken nothing or next to nothing from them. They are all white, sometimes with hardly noticeable spots of yellow.
n.o.body who has travelled in Borneo can have failed to notice the great number of short-tailed cats. In Bandjermasin those with long tails are very rare, and among Malays and Dayaks I do not remember ever having seen them. They are either stub-tailed or they have a ball at the end of a tail that is usually twisted and exceptionally short. These cats are small and extremely tame, and can hardly be pushed away with a kick, because they have always been used to having their own way in the house. They are more resourceful and enterprising than the ordinary domestic cat, using their claws to an almost incredible extent in climbing down perpendicular wooden walls, or in running under the roof on rafters chasing mice. I have twice photographed such cats, a liberty which they resented by striking viciously at the man who held them and growling all the time. Their accustomed food is rice and dried fish.
The steams.h.i.+p _Janssens_ had recently reduced its already infrequent sailings for Singapore, which caused some delay, but finally, toward the end of March, I embarked for Sampit. I was glad to see the controleur, who came down to the pier, for the rare occasions when steamers call here are almost festive events, and arrangements were at once made for my journey to Sembulo. At Pembuang we took on board the native kapala of the district, who was to accompany me; he also brought an attendant, a cook, and a policeman, all natives. Twelve hours later, when we arrived at the kampong Sembulo, the kapala who came on board the _Selatan_ informed us that no Dayaks were there. As the lake was low and the water continued to fall it was impossible to proceed to Bangkal, the other kampong, or to remain here more than a few days. Therefore, at my request the native authorities agreed to have the Bangkal Dayaks congregate here, the kapala himself undertaking to bring them.
The population of the kampong Sembulo, formerly called Pulau Tombak, at the present time is Malay, comprising more than two hundred full-grown men, nearly all recent arrivals from Bandjermasin, Sampit, Pembuang, and other places. Very little rice is planted because the soil is sandy and unsuited to cultivation, therefore the inhabitants confine their activities mainly to rubber gathering. At that time about a hundred men were busy in the jungle on the opposite side, gathering white rubber, which is plentiful in the surrounding country. They cross the lake in their small prahus, pole them up the streams, and remain perhaps three months in the utan working under adverse conditions. When engaged in their pursuit they must always stand in water, which covers the ground and is usually shallow but at times reaches to the armpit.
Four weeks previously an epidemic of beri-beri had started with a mortality of one or two every day. When attacked by the disease they return to the kampong but only few recover, most of them dying from one or the other of the two forms of beri-beri. Nevertheless, the remainder continue the work undismayed--”business going on as usual.” In the tropics life and death meet on friendly terms. ”That is a sad phase of this country,” said a Briton to me in India; ”you shake hands with a man to-day and attend his funeral to-morrow.”
<script>