Part 22 (1/2)
(From the Penyahbongs; kampong Tamaloe)
Two young girls, not yet married, went to fish, each carrying the small oblong basket which the Penyahbong woman is wont to use when fis.h.i.+ng, holding it in one hand and pa.s.sing it through the water. A very young serpent, of the huge kind called penganun, entered a basket and the child caught it and placed it on the bark tray to take it home.
Penganun ate all the fish on the tray, and the girls kept it in the house, catching fish for it, and it remained thus a long time. When it grew to be large it tried to eat the two girls, and they ran away to their mother, who was working on sago, while their father was sleeping near by. Penganun was pursuing them, and he caught the smaller one around the ankle, but the father killed the monster with his sumpitan and its spear point. With his parang he cut it in many pieces and his wife cooked the meat in bamboo, and they all ate it.
NOTE.--Penganun, see preceding tale. The sumpitan (blow-pipe) has a spear point lashed to one end, and thus also may serve as a spear.
8. THE FATHERLESS BOY
(From the Saputans; kampong Data Laong)
A woman was going to the ladang in the morning, and she said to her young son, Amon Amang, whose father was dead: ”When the sun comes over the tree there you must begin to husk paddi.” She then went away to the ladang while the boy remained at home. He carried the paddi, as well as the oblong wooden mortar, up into a tree. There he began to work, and the mortar and the paddi and the boy all tumbled down because the branch broke. A man helped the half-dead boy to come to his senses again, throwing water on him, and when the mother returned she was very angry to see the mortar broken and the paddi strewed all about. ”I told you to husk paddi in the house when the sun came over the tree,” she said. ”Better that you now go and hunt birds.”
The boy then decided to hunt. He climbed a tree and put up snares to catch birds. He caught a great many big hornbills, which he fastened alive to his loin cloth, and they began to fly, carrying the boy with them to a big tree, where they loosened themselves from him, left him in a cleft, and all flew away. The tree was very tall, but he climbed down a fig tree which grew beside it, descended to the ground, and went home.
His mother was not pleased that he did not bring any birds, and he told her what had happened. ”Why all this?” she said. ”You fell from the tree!
You should have killed the birds,” she declared reproachfully.
NOTE.--Amon Amang means the husband's child. (Amon = father; Amang = child.)
During my stay of two weeks at Data Lahong fortunate circ.u.mstances enabled me to gather a considerable number of Saputan tales. Several prominent men from neighbouring kampongs visited me and were willing to tell them, while of equal importance was the fact that a Mohammedan Murung Dayak in my party spoke the language well and made a very satisfactory interpreter.
On the other hand, I remained among the Penihings for many weeks, but the difficulty of finding either men who knew folklore or who could interpret well, prevented me from securing tales in that tribe. However, there is strong probability that much of the folklore told me by the Saputans originated with the Penihings, which is unquestionably the case with No.
16, ”Laki Mae.” The reason is not far to seek since the Saputans appear to have been governed formerly by the Penihings, though they also are said to have had many fights with them. According to information given me at Long Tjehan, Paron, the Raja Besar in the kampong, until recent years was also raja of the Saputans.
9. THE ANTOH WHO MARRIED A SAPUTAN
(From the Saputans; kampong Data Laong)
Dirang and his wife, Inyah, went out hunting with dogs, and got one pig.
She then cut rattan to bind the pig for carrying it home, and the man in tying, broke the rattan. He became very angry and told his wife to look for another piece of rattan. She went away and met an antoh in the shape of a woman who asked her: ”Where are you going?” ”To look for rattan,” was the answer, and ”What is your name?” Inyah asked. ”I am Inyah Otuntaga,”
the antoh answered. Inyah then said: ”Take this rattan and give it to my husband.”
Inyah Otuntaga brought the rattan to the man, who tied the babi all around, and she took it up and carried it home. The man, meanwhile, followed her, thinking it was his wife. She went to this side and that side in the jungle, frequently straying. ”What is the matter,” he said, ”don't you know the way?” ”Never mind,” she retorted, ”I forgot.” Arriving at the house she went up the wrong ladder, and the man was angry and said: ”Don't you know the right ladder?” She answered: ”I cannot get up the ladder.” ”Come up and walk in,” he exclaimed, and began to think she was an antoh.
She entered the room and slept there, lived with him ever after, and had two children. His former wife, much incensed, went to the house of her father, and after a while she had a child. Her little boy chanced to come to the house of his father, who asked his name. ”I am the son of Inyah,”
he said. Then the father learned where his former wife was, and he went to fetch her, and afterward both wives and their children lived together.
10. LAKI SORA AND LAKI IYU
(From the Saputans; kampong, Data Laong)
Two men, Sora and Iyu, went into the utan to hunt with sumpitans. While Iyu made a hut for the two, Sora went to look for animals and came across a pig, which he killed. He brought the liver and the heart to the hut and gave them to Iyu to cook. When the cooking was finished Iyu advised him of it, and the two sat down to eat. It was already late in the afternoon and Iyu, whose duty it was to fetch the pig, waited until next day, when he went away to bring it in, but instead he ate it all by himself, and then returned to the hut and told Sora what he had done. It was now late in the evening and they both went to sleep. The following morning Sora went out again with his sumpitan, but chased all day without meeting an animal, so he took one root of a water-plant called keladi, as well as one fruit called pangin, and went home. The keladi was roasted, but the fruit it was not necessary to prepare. They then sat down to eat, but could not satisfy their hunger, and Iyu was angry and asked why he brought so little. ”I did not bring more,” Sora answered, ”because it is probable the owner would have been angry if I had.” Iyu said: ”Tomorrow I shall bring plenty.”
Next morning Iyu came to the place where Sora had found the root and the fruit, and he ate all that remained there, but this belonged to an antoh, called Amenaran, and one of his children saw Iyu eat the root which he did not cook, and also saw him climb the tree and eat the fruit. He went and told his father, the antoh, who became angry, spoke to Iyu about it, and wanted to know who had given him permission.
Iyu, who was up in the tree still gorging himself with fruit, said he was not afraid and he would fight it out that evening. Amenaran stood below and lightning poured forth from his mouth and thunder was heard. Iyu said: ”I have no spear, nor parang, but I will kill that antoh.” And the big pig he had eaten and all the roots and all the fruits that he had been feeding on, an immense quant.i.ty of faeces, he dropped on Amenaran's head, and it killed him. Iyu returned home and told Sora that he had put Amenaran to death. They then went out and killed many animals with the sumpitan and returned to the kampong. ”Now that antoh is dead we can no more eat raw meat nor much fruit,” said Iyu. Long ago it was the custom to eat the meat raw and much of it, as well as much fruit, and one man alone would eat one pig and a whole garden. Now people eat little. With the death of antoh the strong medicine of the food is gone, and the Saputans do not eat much.