The Pagan Tribes of Borneo / A Description of Their Physical Moral and Intellectual Condition, with Some Discussion of Their Ethnic Relations

by Charles Hose; William McDougall

CHAPTER 17

Myths, Legends, and Stories

Among all the peoples of Borneo a number of myths are handed on from generation to generation by word of mouth. These are related again and again by those who make themselves reputations as story-tellers, especially the old men and women; and the people are never tired of hearing them repeated, as they sit in groups about their hearths between supper and bed-time, and especially when camping in the jungle. The myths vary considerably in the mouths of different story-tellers, especially of those that live in widely separated districts; for the myths commonly have a certain amount of local colouring. Few or none of the myths are common to all the peoples; but those of any one people are generally known in more or less authentic form to their neighbours.

Although many of the myths deal with such subjects as the creation of the world, of man, of animals and plants, the discovery of fire and agriculture, subjects of which the mythology has been incorporated in the religious teachings of the classical and Christian worlds, the mythology of these peoples has little relation to their religion. The gods figure but little in the myths, and the myths are related with little or no religious feeling, no sense of awe, and very little sense of obligation to hand them on unchanged. They are related in much the same spirit and on the same occasions as the animal stories, of which also the people are fond, and they may be said to be sustained by the purely aesthetic or literary motive, rather than the religious or scientific motives. In fact it is not possible to draw any sharp line between myths and fables. If it is asked, Do the people believe the myths? no clear answer can be given; for few of the myths have any direct bearing upon practical life, and therefore belief in them is not brought to the test of action, the only test that can reveal the reality of belief, or indeed differentiate belief from merely unreflective acceptance of a story. Where such practical bearing is not altogether wanting, we commonly see conduct regulated in conformity with the myth or story, as in the case of the story of the bat carrying to the creatures in the river the news of the intention of the people to poison the water.

A certain number of the Bornean myths and legends have been published in Mr. Ling Roth's book and elsewhere, especially those of the Ibans. We have chosen for reproduction some representative specimens that have not hitherto appeared in well-known publications. A few stories that properly belong to this chapter are scattered in other parts of this book.

We give first in a condensed form the substance of a long rambling creation-myth current among all branches of the Kayan people. This myth is sung in rhymed blank verse, a fact which is partly responsible for the wealth of names occurring in it.

In the beginning there was a barren rock. On this the rains fell and gave rise to moss, and the worms, aided by the dung-beetles, made soil by their castings. Then a sword handle (HAUP MALAT) came down from the sun[159] and became a large tree. From the moon came a creeper, which hanging from the tree became mated with it through the action of the wind.[160] From this union were born KALUBAN GAI and KALUBI ANGAI, the first human beings, male and female. These were incomplete, lacking the legs and lower half of their trunks, so that their entrails hung loose and exposed. Leaves falling from the tree became the various species of birds and winged insects, and from the fallen fruits sprang the fourfooted beasts. Resin, oozing from the trunk of the tree, gave rise to the domestic pig and fowl, two species which are distinguished by their understanding of matters that remain hidden from all others, even from human beings. The first incomplete human beings produced PENGOK NGAI and KATIRA MUREI; the latter bore a son, BATANG UTA TATAI, who married AJAI AVAI and begot SIJAU LAHO, ODING LAHANG, PABALAN, PLIBAN, and TOKONG, who became the progenitors of the various existing peoples. ODING LAKANG is claimed as their ancestor by the Kayans, and also by the Kenyahs and some of the Klemantan tribes.

TOKONG is claimed as ancestor by the Sebops (a tribe of Klemantans) and by the Punans. The former attribute to him the introduction of head hunting. The story goes that once upon a time, when TOKONG and his people were preparing to attack a village, he was addressed by the frog, who called out, "WONG KA KOK, TETAK BATOK." This fairly represents the cry of this species of frog (BUFO); and TETAK BATOK in the Sebop language means "cut through the neck." At first the people, who hitherto had taken only the hair of their enemies to adorn their shields, scoffed at this advice; but the frog assured them that the taking of heads would bring them prosperity of every kind, and demonstrated the procedure he advised by decapitating a small frog. TOKONG therefore determined to follow the frog's advice and carried away the heads of his enemies; this was followed immediately by increased prosperity. As the party returned home and passed through their fields the PADI grew very rapidly. As they entered the fields the PADI was only up to their knees, but before they had passed through it was full-grown with full ears. As they approached the house their relatives came to meet them, rejoicing over various pieces of good fortune that had befallen them. The words of the frog thus came true, and Tokong and his people continued to follow the new practice, and from them it was learned by others.

Although the help of the stars is not needed by the Borneans in directing their course when travelling, since all but very short journeys are made on the rivers, most of them are familiar with the principal constellations, and name them in accordance with the resemblances they discover to men, animals, and other objects. Some of the tribes determine the arrival of the season for sowing PADI by the observation of the stars. Thus the LONG KIPUTS (Klemantans) name the great square of Pegasus PALAI, the PADI storehouse (these houses are generally square); the Pleiades they call a well; and the constellation of which Aldebaran is a member they call a pig's jaw. They measure the altitude of a star by filling a tall bamboo vessel with water, inclining it until it points directly to the star, and then setting it upright again, and measuring the height at which the surface of the water remaining in the vessel stands above its floor. Orion is interpreted as the figure of a man, LAFAANG, in much the same way as by Europeans; but his left arm is thought to be wanting. They tell the following story about LAFAANG, who of course is regarded as of their own tribe.

The Story of LAFAANG

The daughter of PALAI (the constellation Pegasus) fell in love with a Long Kiput youth, LAFAANG by name, and invited him to ascend to the heavens, warning him at the same time that the customs in her celestial home were very different from those of earth. The girl was very beautiful, and LAFAANG was not slow to find his way to her father's house. PALAI, surprised to see this mortal visitor, enquired of his daughter, "Who is this man, and why does he come here?" "It is the man I wish to wed," replied the girl. The kind-hearted father told her to give her lover food, and consented to the realisation of her hopes. So LAFAANG took up his abode in the house of PALAI and was wedded to his daughter. But in spite of repeated instructions, LAFAANG found it very difficult to conform to the customs of his adopted country. He put his food into his mouth with his fingers instead of using a needle for the purpose, and by doing so distressed his wife, who chid him for his disobedience to her instructions. On the morrow of his arrival he was invited to clear a patch of jungle for a PADI field; and his wife told him that, in order to fell a tree, he was merely to lay the axe she gave him at the foot of the tree, which would forthwith fall to the ground. But habit was too strong to be controlled, and, when LAFAANG set his hand to the task, he fell to chopping at the tree. But though he chopped with might and main he made no impression, and his gentle spouse was horrified to see the crudeness of his methods. On the next day he was told to watch PALAI at work felling the trees. Squatting in the jungle he saw how the great trees fell when PALAI merely laid the blade of the axe at the foot of each one. This spectacle filled LAFAANG with terror and he would have ran away, but that his wife reproached him for cowardice. On the following day he set to work again; and once more forgetting his lesson, he began to chop at the stems of the trees. This gross breach of custom was punished by the fall of a tree from the patch of jungle hard by that on which PALAI was at work; for the tree in falling cut off LAFAANG'S left arm. Disgusted by these disagreeable incidents and by the awkward appearance of his wife, who was now far advanced in pregnancy, LAFAANG made up his mind to return to his own people. His wife reproached him for his intention; but, when she could not alter his determination, she gave him sugar-cane tops and banana roots, previously unknown to men, and let him down to earth by means of a long creeper. Before he reached the ground he heard the cry of his new-born child, and begged to be allowed to go back to see him. But his entreaties were unavailing, and weeping bitterly, he alighted on the earth at TIKAN ORUM (a spot in the upper Baram district). Still his disobedience was not overcome; for, although he had been told to plant the sugar-cane and banana by merely throwing them on the ground, he planted them carefully in the soil; and to this day a tall coarse grass (BRU) grows on the spot. Nevertheless some sugar-cane and banana plants grew up; but they were of an inferior quality, and such they have remained wherever they have spread in this world. LAFAANG died among his own people on earth, but the bright constellation that bears his name and shape still moves across the heavens, reminding men of his journey to the world above the sky and of the misfortunes he suffered there.[161]

The Story of USAI

The following myth, current under several forms among the Klemantans, accounts for a number of the geographical features of the Baram district, in which it was told us. The story was evoked from an old man of the Long Kiputs by a question as to his views about the nature of the stars. He explained that the stars are holes in the sky made by the roots of trees in the world above the sky projecting through the floor of that world. At one time, he explained, the sky was close to the earth, but one day USAI, a giant, when working sago with a wooden mallet accidentally struck his mallet against the sky; since which time the sky has been far up out of the reach of man. Our informant, warming up with the excitement of the recital, went on to give us the following history of USAI: —

USAI was the brother of the guardian of the shades of men. His wife desired to have a large prawn that lived in the Baram river; so USAI built a dam across the river at LUBOK SUAN (a spot where the river is about 250 yards in width) and baled out the water below it, seizing the crocodiles with his fingers and whisking them out on to the bank. While this operation was in progress, the dam gave way; and USAI'S wife was drowned in the sudden rush of water. In vain he sought for his wife, weeping bitterly. Disconsolately he waded down the river. At the mouth of the PELUTAN he wept anew, throwing aside the crocodiles as he explored the bed of the river. At LONG SALAI he found his wife's coat and wept again. At LONG LAMA he found his wife's waist-cloth and gave up hope, and at TAMALA he clucked like a hen, so great was his grief. Still he went on wading down the river. The water, which at LONG PLUSAN was only just above his ankles, reached his middle at the mouth of the TUTAU, and covered all his body at the place where the Tinjar (the largest tributary) flows into the Baram. At the mouth of the ADOI he wailed aloud, "ADOI, ADOI!" (a sorrowful cry in common use, nearly the equivalent of our Alas!). He began to shiver with cold, but at the mouth of the BAKONG he wept again. When he reached LUBOK KAJAMAN he was out of his depth (this is a part known to be very deep) and colder than ever; but he kept on, and presently the water reached only to his belly, and when he reached the sea it came only to his knees. (There is a shallow bar at the river mouth.) On seeing the boundless ocean, USAI gave up the search and strode down the coast to Miri, where he lived on charcoal and ginger. (The belief is widely held that the people of Miri, formerly ate charcoal in large quantities.) The people of Miri seemed to him like maggots; and they, taking him to be a great tree, climbed up on him. When he brushed them off, he killed ten men with each sweep of his hand. The Miri people set to work to hew down this great tree, and blood poured from USAI'S foot as they worked. Then USAI spoke to them, asking them what sort of creatures they might be, and said, "Listen to my words. I am about to die. My brains are sago, my liver is tobacco. Where my head falls there the people will have much knowledge, where my feet lie will be the ignorant ones." Then, his legs being cut through, he fell with a mighty crash, his head falling towards the sea, his feet pointing up river. ("This accounts for the fact that white men and Chinese know so many things, while the people of Borneo are ignorant" said our informant; but this was probably his own comment.) The Miris, of whom a thousand were killed by the fall of USAI, have beautiful hair, because his head fell in their district; but the other people have only such hair as grew on USAI'S limbs. The mosquitoes that existed in the time of USAI were as big as fowls, and their bites were terribly painful. The people hewed them into small pieces, so that now they are the smallest of the animals; but their bite is still painful.

The Iban Story of Simpang Impang

The following story, which is an old favourite among the Ibans (Sea Dayaks) of the Batang Lupar, will serve to illustrate, with its many heterogeneous features, the myth-making faculty of this imitative and fun-loving people. It will be noticed that the story combines the characters of a creation-myth, an animal fable, and a fairy tale: —

Once upon a time some people were looking for edible vegetables in the jungle, when they came upon a huge python, which they took to be a log. Sitting upon it to cut up their vegetables, they by chance wounded it, and caused the python's blood to flow out. Recognising then the nature of their resting-place, the people cut up the python and began to cook its flesh. Then heavy rain began to fall, and it rained like anything for days and days, so that all the land was covered with water, and only the top of TIANG LAJU (the highest peak of the Batang Lupar district) stood out above the flood. All the people and animals were drowned except one woman, a dog, a rat, and a few other small animals, which climbed to the top of this mountain. The woman, seeking shelter from the rain, noticed that the dog seemed to have found a warm place beneath a creeper. The creeper was swaying in the wind and rubbing against a tree, and thus was warmed by the friction. The woman, taking the hint, rubbed the creeper hard on a piece of wood, and so for the first time produced fire. Having no husband the woman took the creeper for her mate, and soon afterwards gave birth to a son, who was but one-half of a human being, having one arm, one leg, one eye, and so on. This child, SIMPANG IMPANG, whose only companions were the animals, often complained bitterly to his mother of his incompleteness. One day SIMPANG IMPANG discovered some PADI grain which the rat had hidden in a hole. He spread it out to dry on a leaf, which he put on top of a stump. On this the rat demanded the PADI back; and when SIMPANG IMPANG refused it, he grew very angry, and swore that he and all his race would always retaliate by taking the PADI of men whenever they could get at it. While they were disputing, SELULAT ANTU RIBUT, the wind-spirit, came by and scattered the PADI grains far and wide in the jungle. SIMPANG IMBANG looked round in anger and astonishment, and could perceive nothing but the noise of the wind. So he set out with some of his companions to get back his corn from the wind-spirit, or know the reason why. After wandering for some days he came to a tree on which were many birds; they picked off its buds as fast as the tree could push them out. SIMPANG IMPANG asked the tree to tell him the way to the house of the wind-spirit; and the tree said, "Oh, yes, he came this way just now, and his house is far away over there. When you come to it, please tell him I am tired of putting out my leaves to have them bitten off by these rascal birds, and that I want him to come and end my miserable life by blowing me down."

SIMPANG IMPANG went on and came to a lake, which said, "Whither are you going, friend?" And when he answered that he was going to find the wind-spirit, the lake complained that its outlet to the river was blocked with a lump of gold, and told him to get the wind-spirit to blow away the obstruction. SIMPANG IMPANG promised to put in a word for the lake, and, passing on, came to a cluster of sugar-canes and bananas. "Whither are you going, friend?" said they. "I'm going to the wind-spirit" he answered. "Oh! then, will you please ask him how it is we have no branches like other trees; we should like to have branches like them."[162] "Yes, I'll remember it," said SIMPANG IMPANG, and, passing on, he soon came to the home of the wind-spirit. There he heard a great noise of wind blowing, and the wind-spirit said, "What do you want here, SIMPANG IMPANG." He answered angrily that he had come to demand the PADI that the wind-spirit had carried away. "We'll settle the dispute by diving" said the wind-spirit,[163] and he dived into the water; but being only a bubble, he very soon popped up to the surface. Then SIMPANG IMPANG called on his companion the fish to dive for him; and when the windspirit saw that he had no chance of coming out the winner in this ordeal, he said, "No, this is not fair, we'll settle the matter by jumping," and he leapt right over the house. SIMPANG IMPANG called on the swift as his substitute, and the swift, rising from the ground, jumped right out of sight. Still the wind-spirit would not give in. "We'll have another test; let's see who can go through this blow-pipe"; and he went whistling through. Then SIMPANG IMPANG did not know what to do, for none of his companions seemed able to help him. But he had forgotten the ant, until a little squeaky voice called out, "I can do it"; and forthwith the ant crawled through the blow-pipe. Still the wind-spirit would not give in, and SIMPANG IMPANG was very angry, and seizing his father, the fire-drill, he set the windspirit's house on fire. Then at last the wind-spirit called out that he would make compensation for the PADI he had taken away. "But," said he, "I haven't any gongs or other things to pay you, so I'll make you a whole man with two arms and two legs and two eyes." SIMPANG IMPANG accepted the bargain, and was overjoyed to find himself a whole man. Then he remembered the messages he had brought from the tree and the lake, and the wind-spirit promised to do as he was asked. And then SIMPANG IMPANG put to him the question of the bamboo and of the banana plant; and the wind-spirit said, "They have no branches because human beings are always offending against custom; they often utter the names of their father-in-law and mother-in-law, and sometimes they walk before them in going through the jungle; that is why the bamboo and the banana have no branches."

Kenyah Fable of the Mouse-deer and the Tortoise

Animal fables are current among all the peoples of Borneo, and are frequently repeated and listened to with much enjoyment; some individuals who acquire the reputation of being good story-tellers are frequently called upon to practise their art. Closely allied with this enjoyment of fables is the practice of describing incidents of social or tribal intercourse in fables, parables, or allegories, which are made to suit the occasions and to point the appropriate moral.

Once upon a time PLANDOK (the tiny mouse-deer) and KELAP (the water-tortoise) went out together to find fruit. They found a tree laden with ripe fruit close by a house. "I can't climb up that tree," said PLANDOK, "but I'll give you a leg up, and then you can get on to that branch." So he pushed up KELAP on to the lowermost branch. KELAP threw down all the fruit, but then didn't know how to get down, and called to PLANDOK for help. "Oh! get down anyway you like," said PLANDOK. "But I can't get down forwards and I can't get down backwards." "Then throw yourself down," said PLANDOK, and KELAP threw himself down and came to the ground with a great thud. The people in the house heard the sound and said," There's a durian falling." Then PLANDOK began to divide the fruit into heaps. "This is for me and that's for you," he kept calling out; and every time he put some more fruit to KELAP'S heap, he shouted louder than before. "Hello," said the people in the house, "there's somebody dividing something," and they ran out to see what was going on. PLANDOK skipped away with his share of the fruit, and left KELAP to hide himself as best he could under the broad leaves of a Caladium plant. The people saw the tree stripped of its fruit, and KELAP'S tracks on the ground soon led to the discovery of his hidingplace. "Here's the thief," said the people, "let's put him in the fire." "Oh yes," said KELAP, "please put me in the fire; last time they put me in the fire they only half did the thing, and left one side quite untouched by the fire."[164] "0h! that won't do," said the people, "let's squeeze him in the sugar-cane press." "Oh yes, please squeeze me in the press," said KELAP, "last time they put me in the press they only squeezed one side of me."[165] "Then that won't do either," they cried, "let's throw him into the river." "Oh! don't throw me into the river," said KELAP, and began to weep. So they threw him into the river. KELAP swam out to the middle of the river and, putting up his head above the surface, called out, "That's alright, this is my home." At this the people saw that he had got the better of them, and determined to turn the tables by poisoning the water with TUBA.[166] The bat overheard what they were saying, and at once flew off to KELAP, and advised him to get out of the river. "No, I shall stay here," said KELAP, "this is the safest place for me," and he went and stood quite still among the big stones in the shallow water.

Presently the people began to beat out the TUBA root on the stones, and one man, taking KELAP'S back for a stone, began to beat his TUBA upon it. Then KELAP made his back sink lower little by little, so that the water began to cover it. "Hello!" said the man, "the water's rising, it's no good trying to poison the river when the water's rising." So they went home.

The Kenyah Story of the BELIRA Fish

The BELIRA is a fish that has an extraordinary number of bones. The following story accounts for this exceptional number of bones and, in conjunction with the foregoing story, explains why Kenyahs, when proposing to poison the river with TUBA in order to take the fish, speak of their intentions only in parables.

The fish began to complain that they were so often caught by men who poisoned the river. So they decided they must have a DAYONG who could make rain for them[167] so as to prevent the poisoning of the water. They asked one fish after another to become a DAYONG; but all refused until they came to the BELIRA, who said he would do his best to become a DAYONG and to make rain for them, if each of the other fishes would give him a bone. They accepted the bargain and each gave him a bone, and that is why the BELIRA has so many bones.

The Story of the Stupid Boy

The following Klemantan story illustrates the taste of the people for the comic: —

One day SALEH and his father set out in their boat for their farm. "Look out for logs" (I.E. floating timber), said SALEH'S father. They had not gone very far when SALEH sings out, "I see some timber." ,Where?" says his father. "Why, there on the bank," says SALEH, pointing to the jungle. "Oh! you silly," says his father, "go on." So they went on and landed, and the father, leaving SALEH to cook some rice in the large pot, began to cut down some trees. Presently he came back and found SALEH with the pot upside down over the fire, and nothing cooked. "What are you at?" cries the father. "Well," says SALEH, "I put the pot over the fire as you told me to do, but when I poured the water on it, it all ran into the fire and put it out." "You stupid boy, you should have put the pot on the other way up." But you didn't tell me so," says SALEH.

The father had chipped his axe, so he sends SALEH home to fetch another. SALEH sets out gaily singing, the blade of the axe lying in the bow of the boat. Soon the boat strikes a snag and overboard goes the axe-blade. "Oh, bother!" says SALEH, "but never mind, I'll mark the place," and he whips out his knife and cuts a notch in the gunwale of the boat at the spot where the axe fell in. Arriving at the landing stage before his father's house, he begins to dive into the water to find the lost axe-head, and continues vainly seeking it till his mother comes out to ask what he is doing. "I'm looking for the axe that fell into the water just at this notch, as I was coming down river," says SALEH. "Oh! you are a stupid," says his mother, and fetches him a new axe. SALEH goes back to his father, who has found a fruit tree. He tells SALEH to gather the fruit in his basket while he goes on felling trees. Presently the father comes back and finds SALEH fastened with his back to the tree by the shoulder-basket, which he has put right round its stem, and his legs going up and down. "Hello! what ARE you up to now?" says the father. "Why, I'm carrying away the whole tree to save trouble," says SALEH, "and I'm watching the clouds up there to see how fast I'm walking with this tree on my back."

A Story with a Moral

We conclude this chapter with an example of a fable which points a moral. It is told by the Barawans of their neighbours, the Sebops (both are Klemantan tribes), who, they say, put off every task till the morrow.

One wet night KRA, the monkey, and RAONG, the toad, sat under a log complaining of the cold. "KR-R-R-H" went KRA, and "Hoot-toot-toot" went the toad. They agreed that next day they would cut down a KUMUT tree and make themselves a coat. of its bark. In the morning the sun shone bright and warm, and KRA gambolled in the tree-tops, while RAONG climbed on the log and basked in the sunlight. Presently down comes KRA and sings out, "Hello, mate! How are you getting on?" "Oh! nicely," says RAONG. "Well, how about that coat we were going to make?" says KRA. "Oh! bother the coat," says RAONG, "we'll make it to-morrow; I'm jolly warm now." So they enjoyed the sunshine all day long. But, when night fell, it began to rain again, and again they sat under the log complaining of the cold. "KR-R-R-H," went KRA, and "Hoot-toot-toot" went RAONG. And again they agreed that they must cut down the KUMUT tree and make themselves a coat of its bark. But in the morning the sun was shining again warm and bright; and again KRA gambolled in the tree-tops and RAONG sat basking in the sunshine; and again RAONG, said, "Oh! bother the coat, we'll make it tomorrow." And every day it was the same, and so to this day KRA and RAONG sit out in the rain complaining of the cold, and crying "KR-R-R-H" and "Hoot-toot-toot."

CHAPTER 18

Childhood and Youth of a Kayan

From the time that the parents of a Kayan become aware of his existence they faithfully observe, without intermission until his appearance in the world, certain tabus. Or, in their own language, they are MALAN and certain things and acts are LALI for them. The belief that the child will resemble in some degree the things which arrest the glance of his mother while she carries him (LEMALI) is unquestioningly held and acted upon; hence the expectant woman seeks to avoid seeing all disagreeable and uncanny objects, more especially the Maias and the long-nosed monkey; she observes also the tabus imposed upon sick women in general, and besides these a number of other tabus peculiar to her condition, most of which apply to acts or situations which may symbolise any difficulty in delivery of the child; for example, she must not tie knots, she must not thrust her hand into any narrow hole to pull anything out. The tabus of the latter class are observed by the husband even more strictly, if possible, than by the wife. The woman must also avoid certain kinds of flesh and fish. It frequently happens that the woman begins to crave to eat a peculiar soapy earth (BATU KRAP), and this is generally supplied to her.

The woman will also take positive measures to ensure the prosperous course of her pregnancy and delivery. At the quickening she sacrifices a young pig and charges it to convey her prayer to Doh Tenangan; and on the occurrence of any untoward incident, such as a fall, the prayer and sacrifice are repeated. The carcases of the victims are stuck upon poles before the house near her door, and the inevitable feathered sticks, smeared with blood, are thrust behind a roof beam in the gallery opposite her door.

In every Kayan house are certain elderly women (not the DAYONGS) who have a reputation for special knowledge and skill in all matters connected with pregnancy and childbirth. One of these is called in at an early stage; she makes from time to time a careful examination of the patient's abdomen and professes to secure the best position of the child.

She has also a number of charms, which she hangs in the woman's room, and various unguents, which she applies externally. But all these procedures are surrounded by a veil of secrecy which we have failed to penetrate. And, in fact, all information in regard to the processes of childbirth is difficult to obtain, for all Kayans are very reticent on the matter, even among themselves.

In all other respects the pregnant woman follows her ordinary mode of life until the pains of labour begin. Then she is attended by the wise woman and several elderly relatives or friends. She sits in her room which is LALI to all but her attendants and her husband; and she is hidden from the latter by a screen of mats. During the pains she grasps and pulls on a cloth fixed to a rafter above and before her. The pains seem to be severe, since the woman generally groans and cries out; but the duration of labour is commonly brief, perhaps two or three hours only. The attendants' great anxiety is lest the child should go upward, and to prevent this they tie a cloth very tightly round the patient about the upper part of her abdomen. During the pains two of them press down with great force upon the uterus, one from each side. The wise woman professes to accomplish version by external manipulation, if she judges that the feet are about to present. But we do not know whether her claim to so much skill is well founded. If the after-birth does not follow immediately upon the child, the attendants become very anxious; two of them lift up the patient, and, if it does not soon appear, an axe-head is tied to the cord in order to prevent its return within the body, and possibly that the weight may hasten its extrusion. We have no reason to suppose that any internal manipulation is attempted at this or any other stage of labour or of pregnancy. Immediately after delivery the cord is tied and cut across with a bamboo knife. If the child does not cry at once, its nostrils are tickled with a feather.

The after-birth is usually buried or merely thrown away. But if the child is born enclosed in the membranes (with a caul), they are dried and preserved by the mother. It is said that, when dried, it is pounded to a powder and mixed with medicines administered to the child in later years.

If labour is unusually difficult or prolonged, or if accidents happen, the news spreads quickly through the house; and, if the attendants begin to fear a fatal issue, the whole household is thrown into consternation, for death in childbirth is regarded with peculiar horror. All the men of the house, including the chief and boys, will flee from the house, or, if it is night, they will clamber up among the beams of the roof and there hide in terror; and, if the worst happens, they remain there until the woman's corpse has been taken out of the house for burial. In such a case the burial is effected with the utmost despatch. Old men and women, who are indifferent to death, will undertake the work, and they expect a large fee.

The body, wrapped in a mat, is buried in a grave dug in the earth among the tombs, instead of being put in a coffin raised on a tall post; for the soul of the woman who dies in childbirth goes, with the souls of those who fall in battle, or die by violence of any kind, to Bawang Daha (the lake of blood).

If twins are born, one is chosen, generally the boy, if they are of different sexes. The other is got rid off by exposure in the jungle. The avowed motive for this practice (which, of course, is rapidly passing away under the influence of the European governments) is the desire to preserve the life of the survivor; for they hold that his chances of life are diminished not only by the necessity of dividing the mother's care and milk between the twins, if both survive, but also by the sympathetic bond which they believe to exist between twins, and which renders each of them liable to all the ills and misfortunes that befall the other; and to Kayans the loss of a child of some years of age is a calamity of the first magnitude, whereas the sacrifice of one of a pair of new-born twins is hardly felt.

At the moment the child is completely born, a TAWAK or a drum (according as it is male or female) is beaten in the gallery with a peculiar rhythm. All members of the household (I.E. all whose rooms are under the roof of the one long house, and who, therefore, are under the same omens and tabus) who are within the house at this moment have the right to a handful of salt from the parents of the child; and all members who are not under the roof at the moment are expected to make a present of some piece of iron to the child. This is an ancient custom, which is no longer strictly observed, and which seems to be undergoing a natural decay.

During the confinement of a woman, Kayans (more especially those of the upper Rejang) sometimes perform a dance which is supposed to facilitate delivery. It is commonly performed by a woman, a friend or relative of the labouring woman, who takes in her arms a bundle of cloth, which she handles like a baby while she dances, afterwards putting it into the cradle (HAVAT) in which a child is carried on the back. An old story relates the origin of this dance as follows. A widow died in childbirth, and the child was given to a woman who happened to be dancing at the time of its birth, and who afterwards became a very influential and prosperous person.

When the delivery has been normally accomplished and all goes well, the mother at once nurses the child; and a woman of the lower class may resume her lighter household duties within twenty-four hours. A woman of the upper class may remain recumbent for the most part of several days or even weeks. For seventeen days the mother wears threads tied round the thumbs and big toes, and during this time she is expected to avoid heavy labour, such as farm-work and the pounding of hadi. There seems to be no trace of any such custom as the COUVADE, though the father observes, like the mother, certain tabus during the early months and years of the child's life, with diminishing strictness as the child grows older. The child also is hedged about with tabus. The general aim of all these tabus seems to be to establish and maintain about the child a certain atmosphere (or, as they say, a certain odour)[168] in which alone it can thrive. Neither father nor mother will eat or touch anything whose properties are thought to be harmful or undesirable for the child, E.G. such things as the skin of the timid deer (see vol. ii. p. 72), or that of the tiger-cat; and the child himself is still more strictly preserved from such contacts. Further, nothing used by or about the child — toys, garments, cradle, or beads — must be lost, lent, sold, or otherwise allowed to pass out of the possession of the parents; though, if one child has thriven, its properties are preferred to all others for the use of a younger brother or sister. It is important also that no stranger shall handle or gaze too closely upon the child; and when it is put down to sleep in the parents' room, the mat or rude wooden cradle on which it lies is generally surrounded by a rough screen. The more influential the stranger, the more is his contact to be feared; for any such contact or notice may attract to the infant the unwelcome and probably injurious attentions of the TOH. For the same reason it is forbidden, or PARIT, to a child to lie down on the spot where a chief has been sitting or where he usually reposes. And it is a grave offence for a child to, jump over the legs of a reclining chief; but in this case the disrespect shown is probably the more important ground of the disapprobation incurred.

If any such contact has unwittingly occurred, or if, for example, a Kayan mother has consented to submit an ailing child to inspection by a European medical man, the danger incurred may be warded off by the gift from the stranger to the child of some small article of value. In a similar way the breach of other tabus, such as the entering of a room which is LALI, may be rendered innocuous.

The infant is carried by the mother almost continuously during the waking hours of its first year of life; it is generally suspended in a sling made of wood or of basket-work, resembling in shape the baby's swing familiar in our nurseries; the child sits on a semicircular piece of board, its legs dependent, its knees and belly against the mother's back, and its own back supported by the two vertical pieces of the cradle (see Pl. 166). The mother nurses the infant in her arms during most of her leisure moments, and she hushes it to sleep by crooning old lullabies as she rocks it in her arms or in a cradle suspended from a pliable stick.[169] The father hardly handles it during its first year, but many fathers nurse and dandle the older infants for hours together in the most affectionate manner; and, if the child's grandfather is living, he generally becomes its devoted attendant.

About the end of its first year the infant begins to crawl and toddle about the room and gallery, to sprawl into the hearth and eat charcoal, and to get into all sorts of mischief in the usual way. During the first year he lives chiefly on his mother's milk, but takes also thick rice-water from an early age.

Towards the end of the first year the lobes of the ears are perforated, and a ring (or, in the case of a girl, several small rings) is inserted in each. Of childish affections of health, the commonest at this age is yaws (FRAMBOESIA) about the mouth. Kayan mothers believe that every child must go through this, and that one attack protects against its recurrence; and the rareness of the disease in adults seems to bear out this belief. Most of the children are weaned about the end of their second year.

During the next years, until the boy is five or six years of age, he remains always under the care of his mother. He spends the day running about within and around the house and among the boats at the landing-place, playing with his fellows, chasing the pigs and fowls, and bathing in the river. The children are in the main what is commonly called good, they cry but little, and quarrels and outbreaks of temper are few. During the boy's third year a hole is punched in the shell of each ear. A single blow with a bamboo punch takes out a circular piece; into this a circular plug of wax or wood is inserted. The girl, on the other hand, has more rings added to the lobes of her cars, which gradually yield to the weight, and begin to assume the desired character of slender loops. During these years the boy normally takes the first step of his initiation as a warrior by striking a blow at a freshly taken head, or, if need be, at an old one (see vol. ii. p. 169).

It is at some time in the course of these years, usually not earlier than the beginning of the child's third year, that he first receives a name. The occasion of the rite is a general naming of all the children of the house of suitable age; and the time is determined by the conclusion of a successful harvest; for a general feast is made for which much rice and BURAK are required, and these cannot be spared in a year of poor harvest. For each child who is to be named a small human image in soft wood is prepared. This is an effigy of Laki Pesong, the god whose special function it is to care for the welfare of the children. A small mat is woven and a few strips of rattan provided for each child. Each child sits with his (or her) mother in the gallery beside the door of their room, and the parents announce the name they propose for the child. Then the father, or some other man, after killing a chick or young pig, lays the image on the mat before the child, passes one of the rattan strips beneath it, and, holding the image firmly with a big toe on each end of it, pulls the strip rapidly to and fro, until it is made hot by its friction against the image, and smoke begins to rise. While this goes on, the same man, or another, pours out a stream of words addressed to Laki Pesong, the sense of which is a supplication for an answer to the question, "Is this a suitable name? Will he be prosperous under it? Will he enjoy a long life?" etc. He continues the sawing movement until the strip breaks in two. The two pieces are then compared; if they are of unequal length, this result is regarded as expressing the approval of the proposed name by Laki Pesong; if they are of approximately equal length, the god is held to have expressed his disapproval, and another name is proposed and submitted to the same test. If disapproval is thus expressed several times, the naming of the child is postponed to another occasion (Pls. 53, 168).

If a name has been approved, the image, together with the knife used in killing the pig or chicken, is wrapped up in the small mat; the bundle, which, as well as the ceremony, is called PUSA, is thrust behind the rafters of the gallery opposite the door of the child's room, to remain there as a memento of the naming.

When the naming is accomplished a general feast begins, the parents of the newly named children contributing the chief part of the good things; and a number of specially invited guests may participate.

The name so given at this ceremony is borne until the child becomes a parent; when he resigns it in favour of the name given to his child with the title Taman (= father) prefixed (or Tinan in the case of a woman).

Among the Kayans of the upper Rejang the naming ceremonies differ widely from those described above, and are even more elaborate. The following description was given us by Laki Bo, a Kayan PENGHULU.[170] A child is named sometime between its third month and the end of its second year, the date depending partly on the father's capacity to afford the expenses incidental to the ceremony. The father and his friends obtain specimens of all the edible animals and fish, and after drying them over the fire, set them up in his room in attitudes as lifelike as possible. He procures also the leaves of a species of banana tree which bears very large horn-like fruit, known as PUTI ORAN; and having procured the services of a female DAYONG, who has a reputation for skill in naming, he calls all the friends and relatives of the family to the feast. The DAYONG enters the room where the child is, bearing a fowl's egg, while gongs and drums are beaten and guns discharged. She strokes the child from forehead to navel with the egg, calling out some name at each stroke, until she feels that she has found a suitable name. The whole company then pretends to fall asleep; and presently some go out into the gallery. The DAYONG then calls upon sixteen of the women to enter the room; they enter led by a woman who, pretending to be a fowl, clucks and crows, and says, "Why are you all asleep here? It has been daylight for a long time. Don't you hear me crowing? Wake up, wake up." The child, which has been kept in its parents' cubicle during this first part of the ceremony, is then brought into the large room, and a fowl and small pig are slaughtered and their entrails examined. If these yield favourable omens, the DAYONG begins to chant, invoking the protection of good spirits for the child. Then sixteen men and sixteen women, whose parents are still living, are sent to fetch water for the use of the child and its mother. The feasting then begins, some person eating on behalf of the child, if it is too young to partake of the feast. Eight days later the DAYONG again invokes the protection of the beneficent spirits, and the child is taken out into the gallery and shown to all the household. Some near relative makes a cross upon its right foot with a piece of charcoal, and the child is taken to the door of each room to receive some small present from each roomhold. The child must then return to its parents' room and remain there eight days. After the next harvest a similar feast of pigs' flesh and dried animals is made, and the name is confirmed. But if in the meantime the child has been ill, or any other untoward event has happened, a new name is given to it. In this case it would be usual to choose the well-tried name of some prosperous uncle or aunt. Again the child must be confined to its parents' room for eight days following the feast; and after that time it is free to go where it will, or rather wherever children are allowed to go.

From five or six years onwards the boy more and more accompanies the men in their excursions on the river and in the jungle, and is taught to make himself useful on these occasions, and also on the PADI farm, where he helps in scaring pests and in other odd jobs. But he still has much leisure, which is chiefly devoted to playing with his fellows. Among the principal boys' games the following deserve mention: — Spinning of peg-tops of hard wood, usually thrown overhand, but sometimes underhand, in a manner very similar to that of English boys, each boy in turn striving to strike the tops of the others with his own; this game is played about the time of PADI harvest. Simple kites are flown. A roughly made bow with unfeathered arrow is a somewhat rare toy. Most of the out-door games are of the nature of practice for the chase and war, and of trials of strength and of endurance of pain. Wrestling is perhaps the most popular sport with the older boys and with men. Each grips his antagonist's waist-cloth at its lower edge behind, and strives to lay him on his back (Pl. 169). Throwing mock spears at the domestic pigs or goats, and thrusting a spear through a bounding hoop, afford practice for sport and war. Running games like prisoner's base, and diving and swimming games, are also played. All these boys' games are but little organised, and the competitive motive is not very strongly operative; there are few set rules, and but little scope for, training in leadership and subordination is afforded by them.

In the house less active games are played. In one of the most popular of these a number of children squat in a ring upon the floor; one takes a glowing ember from a hearth, and passes it on to his neighbour, who in turn passes it on as quickly as possible. In this way it goes round and round the ring until the last spark of fire goes out. He or she who holds it at that moment is then dubbed ABAN LALU or BALU DOH (=widower Lalu or widow Doh).

Pets, in the form of birds and the smaller mammals, especially hornbills, parrokeets, squirrels, porcupines, are kept in wicker cages.

About the age of ten years the Kayan boy begins to wear a waist-cloth — his first garment — his sister having assumed the apron some two or three years earlier; we are not aware of any ceremony connected with this. From this time onward the boy begins to accompany his father on the longer excursions of the men, especially on the long expeditions in search of jungle produce; and on these occasions he is expected to take an active part in the labours of the party. Participation in such expeditions affords, perhaps, the most important part of his education. There is little or no attempt made to impart instruction to the children, whether moral or other, but they fall naturally under the spell of custom and public opinion; and they absorb the lore, legends, myths, and traditions of their tribe, while listening to their elders as they discuss the affairs of the household and of their neighbours in the long evening talks. They learn also the prohibitions and tabus by being constantly checked; a sharp word generally suffices to secure obedience. Punishments are almost unknown, especially physical punishments; though in extreme cases of disobedience the child's ear may be tweaked, while it is asked if it is deaf. A sound scolding also is not infrequent, and an incorrigible offender, especially if his conduct has been offensive to persons outside his family, may be haled before the chief, who rates him soundly, and who may, in a more serious case, award compensation to be paid by the delinquent's father. But in the main the Spencerian method of training is followed. A parent warns his child of the ill effects that may be expected from the line of behaviour he is taking, and when those effects are realised, he says, "Well, what did I tell you?" and adds a grunt of withering contempt.

The growth of the children in wisdom and morality is aided also by the hearing from the lips of their elders wise saws and ancient maxims that embody the experience of their forefathers, many of which are possibly of Malay origin. A few of these seem worthy of citation here: —

"Never mind a drop or two so long as you don't spill the whole."

"Better white bones than white eyes" (which means — that death is preferable to shame).

"If you haven't a rattan do the best you can with a creeper."

It is difficult to say exactly at what age puberty begins with the youths. The girls mostly begin their courses in the fourteenth or fifteenth year. By this time the girl of the better class has the lobes of her ears distended to form loops, which allow her heavy ear-rings to reach to her collar-bone or even lower, and she is far advanced towards completion of her tatu on thighs, feet, hands, and forearms (see Chap. XII.). The process is begun at about the tenth year, and is continued from time to time, only a small area being covered at each bout, owing to the pain of the operation and the ensuing inflammation and discomfort.

The boys begin at about fifteen years, or rather earlier, to assert their independence, by clubbing together with those of their own age, and taking up their sleeping quarters with the bachelors in the gallery. At an earlier age the children have picked up a number of songs and spontaneously sing them in groups, but now they begin to develop their powers of musical. expression by practising with the KELURI, Jew's harp, drum and TAWAK.

Of these instruments the first is the most used, especially by the youths. It is a rude form of the bagpipes. The KELURI consists of a dried gourd which has the shape of an oval flask with a long neck (Fig. 85). The closed ends of a bundle of six narrow bamboo pipes are inserted in the body of the gourd through a hole cut in its wall, and are fixed hermetically with wax. Their free ends are open, and each pipe has a small lateral hole or stop at a carefully determined distance from the open end. The artist blows through the neck of the gourd, and the air enters the base of each pipe by an oblong aperture which is filled by a vibrating tongue or reed; this is formed by shaving away the wall of the bamboo till it is very thin, and then cutting through it round three sides of the oblong; it is weighted with a piece of wax. The holes are stopped by the fingers, 3ach pipe emitting its note only when its hole is stopped. The physical principles involved are obscure to us. Varieties of this instrument are made by all the tribes of Borneo as well as by many other peoples of the far East (Pl. 70).

The bamboo harp is similar to that made and used by the Punans (see Fig. 86); the SAPEH is a two-stringed instrument of the banjo order; the strings are thin strips of rattan; the whole stem and body are carved out of a single block of hard wood (see Pl. 170 and Fig. 20).

Some of the girls learn to execute a solo dance, which consists largely in slow graceful movements of the arms and hands (Pl. 170). The bigger boys are taught to take part in the dance in which the return from the warpath is dramatically represented. This is a musical march rather than a dance. A party of young men in full war-dress form up in single line; the leader, and perhaps two or three others, play the battle march on the KELURI. The line advances slowly up the gallery, each man turning half about at every third step, the even numbers turning to the one hand, the odd to the other hand, alternately, and all stamping together as they complete the turn at each third step. The turning to right and left symbolises the alert guarding of the heads which are supposed to be carried by the victorious warriors.

A more violent display of warlike feeling is given in the war-dance which is executed by one or two warriors only. The youth, in full panoply of war, and brandishing a PARANG and shield, goes through the movements of a single combat with some fanciful exaggeration (Pl. 171). He crouches beneath his shield, and springs violently hither and thither, emitting piercing yells of defiance and rage, cutting and striking at his imaginary foe or his partner in the dance. But it is characteristic of the Kayans that neither in this dance nor in actual practice in fencing do they attempt to strike one another. The boy, besides watching these martial displays, is instructed in the arts of striking, parrying, and shielding by the older men, who strike at him with a stick but arrest the blow before it goes home. And we have found it impossible to introduce among them a more realistic mode of playful fencing. The ground of this reluctance actually to strike one another in fencing is probably their strong feeling for symbolism and the prevailing tendency to believe that the symbolical art brings about that which it symbolises. In part also it is due to the fact that to draw the blood of any member of the household is LALI and involves the penalty of a fine.[171]

The youth goes through no elaborate rite of initiation to manhood; and, to the best of our knowledge, there exists no body of secret knowledge or of tradition or rites shared in only by the adult men, to participation in which he might be admitted in the course of such a rite. The only rite that is required to qualify him for taking his place as a full-fledged member of the community is the second occasion on which he strikes at the heads taken in battle. We have seen that he performs this ceremonial act for the first time when still of tender age. The age at which he repeats it depends in part upon the occurrence of an opportunity; it commonly falls between his eighth and fifteenth year. If in a house there is a number of big lads who have not performed this rite, owing to no heads having been taken for some years, a head may be borrowed for the purpose from a friendly household; and in this case the borrowed head is brought into the house with all the pomp and ceremony of successful war.

As the returning war-party approaches the village, the boys who are to take part in the rite are marshalled before the house by a master of the ceremonies. He kills a fowl and thrusts a sharpened stake right through it, so that the point projects from its beak, and slashes the carcase into three pieces, one for the adults of the house, one for the boys, and one for the infants. He then takes a short bamboo knife, and a bunch of ISANG leaves, and, after making a short address to the boys, ties a band of ISANG round the wrist of each of them, and, diluting the blood of the fowl with water, smears some of the mixture on each boy's wrist-band. He puts a handful of rice on a burning log and gives a grain of it to each of the boys to eat.

Some old man of the house goes down to the river to meet the returning war-party and brings up the head (or one of the heads) and holds it out, while the master of ceremonies, holding the portion of the fowl's carcase assigned to the boys, leads up each boy in turn to strike at the head with a sword. The boys then go down to the river; and, while they bathe, a bunch of ISANG with which the head has been decorated is waved over them. During the feasting which follows the boys may eat only twice a day. No youth may join a war-party until he has taken part in this rite. The boys are with few or no exceptions keen to go out to war and therefore they like to go through this ceremony at the earliest permissible opportunity.

When the youth begins to feel strongly the attraction of the other sex, he finds opportunities of paying visits, with a few companions, in friendly houses. It is then said in his own house that he has gone "to seek tobacco," a phrase which is well understood to mean that he has gone to seek female companionship.[172]

We must not pass over without mention a peculiar mutilation which is practised by most of the Kayan youths as they approach manhood, namely, the transverse perforation of the GLANS PENIS and the insertion of a short rod of polished bone or hard wood.

A youth of average presentability will usually succeed in becoming the accepted lover of some girl in his own or another house (cp. Chap. V.); and though he may engage himself in this way with two or three girls in turn before deciding to "settle down," he is usually not much over twenty years of age when he becomes accepted as the future husband of a girl some years his junior. A Kayan youth who has rendered pregnant a girl with whom he has kept company can be relied upon to acknowledge his responsibility and to marry her before her time comes. In general it may be said that the rite of marriage does not mark so complete a change in the recognised relations of the young couple as with ourselves, except perhaps in those parts of this country where "handfasting" is recognised as customary and regular. A time is appointed for the wedding, generally shortly after the completion of the padi-harvest; but this date is liable to be repeatedly postponed to the following year by the occurrence of various events which are regarded as of evil omen and as foretelling the early death of one of the couple if they should persist in going through the ceremony. Such omens are hardly ever disregarded; not even if the girl is far advanced in pregnancy.[173] In the latter case the girl does not incur the odium that attaches to the production of bastard offspring (see Chap. XX.); she is treated as a married woman would be, and her child is regarded as legitimate.

We describe in the following paragraphs the wedding of the son of an influential Kayan chief to the daughter of the chief of another house of the same village, such as we have had occasion to assist at. The weddings of couples of less exalted station are correspondingly less elaborate in all particulars.

When the appointed time draws near, the bridegroom sends a trusted friend (his "best man") to open negotiations with the bride's parents. The emissary carries with him a number of presents whose value accords with the status and wealth of the bridegroom's parents. For some time the fiction is maintained that the object of his visit is not even suspected by the family, who make enquiries into the nature of his business. After some fencing he comes to the point and asks on behalf of his friend for a definite date at which he may marry the daughter. The parents raise objections and difficulties of all sorts, and perhaps nothing is settled until a second or third visit. If the parents accept the proposal, the best man hands to them five sets each of sixteen beads, the beads of each set being of uniform shape and colour, namely (1) small yellow beads (UTEH); (2) black beads (MEDAK); (3) a set known as HABARANI which may not be worn by the bride before the naming of her first child; (4) light blue beads (KRUTANG); (5) dark blue beads (TOBI). Each of these sets of beads is held to ensure to the bride the enjoyment of some moral good. The girl also sends a string of beads to her lover by the hand of his best man, and at last the date is fixed, due regard being paid to the phases of the moon; new moon is considered the most favourable time of the month. The importance ascribed to the phase of the moon seems to arise from the fact that the shape of the half-moon suggests the state of pregnancy. Tally is kept by both parties of the date agreed upon. On two long strips of rattan an equal number of knots is tied. Each party keeps one of these tallies (often it is carried tied below the knee) and cuts off one knot each morning; when the last knot alone remains, the appointed day is at hand.

The parties on both sides invite the attendance of their friends and relatives, who crowd the gallery of the bride's house. Early in the morning the bridegroom arrives with his best man and a party of young friends in full war-dress; they land from a boat even though they have come but a few yards by water. They march up to the house, some of them carrying large brass gongs; ascending the ladder, they lay the gongs down the gallery from the head of the ladder towards the door of the bride's room at such intervals that the bride can step from one to another. It is understood that these gongs become the property of the bride and her parents. Others of the bridegroom's band carry other articles of value, and when the party reaches the door of the bride's room, they parley with her parents and friends who are gathered in the room, displaying and offering these objects to the defenders of the room as inducements to admit them. They strive also to push open the door. Presently the men of the defending party make a sortie from the room fully armed, and repel the attackers with much show of violence, but without bloodshed. After this sham fight has been repeated, perhaps several times, the bridegroom and his supporters are at last admitted to the room, and they rush in, only to find, perhaps, that the coy maiden has slipped away through the small door which generally gives access to a neighbouring room. The impatient bridegroom cannot obtain information as to her whereabouts, and so he and his men sit down in the room and accept the proffered cigarettes. Presently the bride relents and returns to her parents' room accompanied by a bevy of her girl friends. But the bridegroom takes no notice of her entry. The inevitable pig meanwhile has been laid in the gallery, together with a few gifts for the DAYONG who is to read its liver. Here the final steps of the bargaining are conducted by the friends of the bridegroom. (It is impossible to say in each case how far this bargaining is genuine and how far the terms of the bargain have been arranged beforehand.) More gongs are added to the row upon the floor, chiefly by the friends invited by the bridegroom, who thus make their wedding gifts, perhaps until the row extends to the door of the bride's room. The pig is then killed and its liver examined; and, if necessary, this is repeated with another and another pig, until one whose liver permits of favourable interpretation is found. (A series of bad livers would lead to postponement.) The DAYONG then sprinkles pig's blood and water from a gong upon all the assembly, invoking the blessing of the gods upon the young couple, asking for them long life and many children. Then the bride and bridegroom walk up and down the row of gongs eight times, stepping only upon the metal. In some cases the bridegroom descends to his boat at the landing-stage on each of these eight excursions, thus showing that he is free to come and go as he pleases and has no entanglements. In this degenerate age the ceremony terminates with this act, but for the feasting and speech-making which fill up the evening hours. But in the old days, as we are credibly informed by those who have been eye-witnesses, the bride descended with the groom and his party to his boat and was then carried off at full speed, pursued by several boat-loads of her friends. The fleeing party would then check the pursuit by throwing out on to the bank every article of value still remaining among them; each article in turn would be snapped up by the pursuers, who then, having thus resisted to the last and extorted the highest possible price from the bridegroom, would allow the happy pair to console each other in peace for the many trials they had had to endure.

It may seem difficult to reconcile the form of the marriage ceremony (involving as it does a blending of symbolical capture with actual purchase) with the fact that, in accordance with the custom almost universally followed among Kayans, the bridegroom becomes a member of the room of his father-in-law and remains there for some years before carrying off his wife to his own house. But we think this latter practice, which in some quarters has been regarded as a survival from a matriarchal organisation of society, is a recently introduced custom, which has come rapidly into favour as a means by which the bridegroom and his friends avoid a part of the expense involved in the older form of marriage. For the residence for a period of years of the young couple in the house and room of the wife's parents is made a part of the marriage contract. If the bride is the only child of a chief, her husband may remain permanently in her home and succeed her father as chief. But in most cases the couple migrates to the husband's house after a few years, generally on the occasion of the building of a new house or on the death of his father, both of which events afford him the opportunity of becoming head of a room and thus taking rank as, and assuming the full responsibilities of, a PATER FAMILIAS.

The marriage ceremonies of the Kenyahs and Klemantans are similar but less elaborate. But the Sea Dayak ceremony is different. A feast is made in the house of the girl's parents. The bridegroom makes no considerable gifts to the parents of the bride, though he is generally expected to become a member of their household for the first few years of his married life. The principal feature of the ceremony is the splitting open of a PINANG (the seed of the areca palm) during the feast, in the presence of the young couple and their relatives. The two halves are examined for signs of decay or imperfection; and if there are none, the marriage is regarded as approved. A live fowl is waved over the couple by the chief of the house as he says, "Make them prosperous, make them happy, give them long life, make them wealthy, etc. etc." The phrases conform to a conventional pattern, but each orator modifies and adapts them freely. The words seemed to be addressed to the fowl, and it seems impossible to discover in the Iban mind any conception of a higher power behind or beyond the fowl, though we may suspect that in a vague way the live fowl symbolises or represents Life in general or the power behind Nature (Pl. 173).

Few or no Kayans can state their age without going through some preliminary calculations, and even then their statements are apt to be vague and uncertain. A Kayan mother can generally work out the age of each of her children on request. She puts down in a row bits of leaf or stick, one for each year, working back from the present, and recalling each year by the name of the place where the PADI crop of that year was raised. When she reaches back to, the year of the birth of any one of her children, she says that the child was born about or before or soon after this particular harvest, and by counting the pieces of stuff laid down she then arrives at the child's age.

An elderly man can generally make no more accurate statement regarding his age than that at the time of the great eclipse he had just begun to wear a waist-cloth, or that when the great guns were heard (I.E. the sound of the eruption of Krakatoa) he was just beginning "to look for tobacco."

We mention here a statement commonly made by Kayans, which, if true, is of some interest as reporting a curious exception to a world-wide custom commonly regarded as directly determined by the difference of nature between the sexes, the report, namely, that among the Kalabits the initiative in all love-making is taken by the women. We have no detailed information in regard to their courtship and marriage procedures.

CHAPTER 19

The Nomad Hunters

In almost all parts of Borneo there are to be found hidden in the remotest recesses of the jungles small bands of homeless nomad hunters. All these closely resemble one another in physical characters and in mode of life; but differences of language mark them as belonging to several groups, of which the Punans, the Ukits, the Sians, the Bukitans, the Lugats, and the Lisums are the best known. Hitherto we have designated all these groups by the name Punan, which properly belongs to the largest group only. These groups inhabit different areas, though there is considerable overlapping; and it seems probable that they are merely local varieties of one stock, and that their differences are mainly the results of geographical separation and of intercourse with, and probably some mingling of blood with, the settled tribes of the regions inhabited by the several groups. For their languages seem to be closely allied; but in each region the nomads seem to have adopted many words from their settled neighbours, with whom they trade; and instances are known to us in which the men of the settled tribes have married women of the nomads and have adopted their mode of life, and others in which children of nomad women, married into Kenyah, Kayan, or other villages, have gone back to their mothers' people.

The Punans proper are found in the central highlands wandering through the upper parts of the basins of all the large rivers; here and there they range into the lowlands, and in rare instances they even reach the coast. The Ukits, on the other hand, confine themselves to the interior, and are found chiefly in the upper parts of the basins of the Kotei, the Rejang, the Kapuas, and Banjermasin rivers. The Bukitans inhabit chiefly the upper basins of the rivers of Sarawak. Although these nomads wander perpetually in the forests, moving their camp every few weeks or months, any one group attaches itself to a particular area, partly because they become familiar with its natural resources, partly because they establish friendly relations with the villagers of the region, with whom they barter jungle-produce to the advantage of both parties. The settled tribesmen of any region find this trade so profitable that they regard the harmless nomads with friendly feelings, learn their language, and avoid and reprobate any harsh treatment of them that might drive them to leave their district. In fact they look upon them with a certain sense of proprietorship and are jealous of their intercourse with other tribes; the nomads, in fact, rank high among the many natural products of the jungle that render any particular region attractive to the tribesmen.

Of all these nomad groups the Punans are the most numerous and we have seen more of them than of any others. We therefore describe their peculiar mode of life; but it may be understood that what we say of them holds good in the main of the other groups of nomads with but little modification.

From the point of view of physical development the Punans are among the finest of the peoples of Borneo. They resemble the Kenyahs more closely than any other tribe; that is to say, they are of very pale yellow colour, of short stature with long body and short legs, but otherwise well proportioned and very sturdily built with well-rounded limbs and large muscular development. Their heads are subbrachycephalic and inclining to be square; their features are more regular than those of most other tribes; their most distinctive physical characters are a relatively well-developed nasal bridge, nostrils directed so much forward that one seems to look right into their heads through them, and the slight greenish tinge and fine silky texture of their pale yellow skins. The greenish tinge may be noticed in all nomad Punans, and it is possible that the ruddier darker tint of the agricultural peoples is largely or wholly due to their greater exposure to the sun; for the Punan fears the broad daylight and rarely or never leaves the deep shade of the jungle.

In fineness of texture of the skin they surpass all the other tribes, and they seldom or never suffer from the disfiguring scaly affections of the skin so common among the others.

The Punans are more uniform as regards their physical characters than the other peoples; there are no distinctions of upper and lower social strata as among the other tribes, and thus the mixture of blood, which in the Kayan and Kenyah communities results from the adoption of war captives into the lower class, does not occur with them; and they present none of the wide diversities of type such as are common in the other tribes, especially between the upper and lower social classes. They correspond, in fact, to the relatively pure bred upper classes of the other tribes, and present the same high standard of physical development and vigour. It is not improbable that the severer conditions of their mode of life contribute to maintain this high standard.

The facial expression and the bodily attitudes of the Punans are also characteristic. When gathered in friendly talk with strangers, even those whom they have every reason to trust, they prefer to remain squatting on their heels, rather than to sit down on a mat; and the tension of their muscles, combined with the still alert watchfulness of their faces, conveys the impression that they are ready to leap up and flee away or to struggle for their lives at any moment. It is doubtless this alertness of facial expression and bodily attitude that gives the Punan something of the air of an untameable wild animal.

In spite of his distrustful expression the Punan is a likeable person, rich in good qualities and innocent of vices. He never slays or attacks men of other tribes wantonly; he never seeks or takes a head, for his customs do not demand it; and he never goes upon the warpath, except when occasionally he joins a war-party of some other tribe in order to facilitate the avenging of blood. But he will defend himself and his family pluckily, if he is attacked and has no choice of flight; and, if any one has killed one of his relatives, he will seek an opportunity of planting a poisoned dart in his body. In a case of this kind all the Punans of a large area will aid one another in obtaining certain information as to the identity of the offender; and any one of them will avenge the injury to his people, if the opportunity presents itself. They do not avenge themselves indiscriminately on all or any member of the offender's village or family, but they will postpone their vengeance for years, if the actual offender cannot be reached more promptly. It seems worth while to recount a particular instance of Punan vengeance. The Punans of the Tinjar basin were claimed by a Sebop chief; that is to say, the chief, Jangan by name, regarded them as under his protection and as therefore under an obligation to trade with him and his people only. But the Pokun people in the basin of a neighbouring river, the Balaga, a tributary of the Rejang, also claimed similar rights over the Punans of the district. One of these Pokuns, a man of the upper class, being angered by the adhesion of the Punans to the chief Jangan and by their refusal to trade with him, cut down one of them during an altercation in the jungle, leaving him dead on the spot. The companions of the murdered man retired, and all the Punans deserted the neighbourhood of the Pokuns. Some four years later the Pokun community migrated to the Tinjar; and shortly afterwards the murderer, thinking the whole matter was forgotten, set out through the jungle with a small party to seek to trade with another group of Punans. While on the march he was struck in the cheek (the favourite spot for the aim of the Punan marksman) by a poisoned dart from an unseen assailant and died within ten minutes. His companions, remembering the incident of four years before, suspected the Punans, but saw no trace of any.

The Punans confessed the act of vengeance to Jangan, and he communicated the facts to the Resident of the Baram district (C. H.), who happened to be in the neighbourhood at the time. The Pokuns wished to take vengeance on the Punans, and they would undoubtedly have turned out in force to hunt down and kill all the Punan men they could find, but that the Resident forbade them to take action, and enforced his command by threatening to burn down their houses in their absence. It is only fair to add that the Pokun chief recognised the justice of this prohibition and showed no resentment.

That the Punans will not allow the slaying of any one of their number to go unavenged on the person of the slayer is well known to all the people of the country, and this knowledge does much to give them immunity from attack.

The Punans cultivate no crops and have no domestic animals. They live entirely upon the wild produce of the jungle, vegetable and animal. Of the former, sago and a form of vegetable tallow found in the seed of a tree (SHOREA) are the most important. Animals of all kinds are eaten, and are secured principally by the aid of the blow-pipe and poisoned darts, in the use of which the Punans are very expert. The Punan dwelling is merely a rude low shelter of palm leaves, supported on sticks to form a sloping roof which keeps off the rain but very imperfectly, and leaves the interior open on every side.[174]

A Punan community consists generally of some twenty to thirty adult men and women, and, about the same number of children. One of the older men is recognised as the leader or chief. He has little formally defined authority, but rather the authority only that is naturally accorded to age and experience and to the fuller knowledge of the tribal history and traditions that comes with age. His sway is a very mild one; he dispenses no substantial punishments; public opinion and tradition seem to be the sole and sufficient sanctions of conduct among these Arcadian bands of gentle wary wanderers. Decisions as to the movements of the band are arrived at by open discussion, in which the leader will exercise an influence proportioned to his reputation for knowledge and judgment. He is mainly responsible for the reading of the omens, and has charge of the few and simple household gods — if that lofty title may be given to the wooden image of a crocodile and the bundle of charms attached to it which are always to be seen in a Punan camp.

If, in case of disagreement, one or more of the members of a band refuses to accept the judgment of the leader and of the majority, he, or they, will withdraw from the community together with wife and children, to form a band which, though in the main independent of the parent group, will usually remain in its near neighbourhood and maintain some intercourse. Fighting between Punans, whether of the same or of different communities, is very rare; the only instances known to us are a few in which Punans have been incited by men of other tribes to join in an attack on their fellows.

The members of the band are for the most part the near relatives of the leader, brothers and sons and nephews with their wives and children. Each man has usually one wife. We know of no instances of polygyny amongst them; though we know of cases in which a Punan woman has become the second wife of a man of some other tribe. On the other hand, polyandry occurs, generally in cases in which a woman married to an elderly man has no children by him. They desire many children, and large families are the rule; a family with as many as eight or nine children is no rarity.

Marriage is for life, though separation by the advice and direction of the chief, or by desertion of the man to another community, occurs. Sexual restraint is probably maintained at about the same level as among the other peoples, the women being more strictly chaste after than before marriage. The ceremony of marriage is less elaborate than among the settled tribes. A young man will become the lover of a girl generally of some other group than his own, and when she becomes pregnant the marriage is celebrated. There is little or no formal arrangement of marriages by the elders on behalf of the young people.

The ceremony of marriage consists merely in a feast in which all, or most of, the members of the two communities take part. Speeches are made, and the leaders exhort the young couple to industry and to obedience to themselves, making specific mention of the principal duties of either sex, such as collecting camphor and procuring animal food for the man, the preparing of sago, cooking, and tending the children for the woman.

After the ceremony, the husband joins the wife's community and generally remains a member of it; unlike the Kayans, among whom a husband, though he may live for some years with his wife's people, eventually brings her to his father's village. No definite payment is made to the parents of the bride, but some small gift, perhaps two or three pounds of tobacco, is usually presented to them by the bridegroom.

Adverse omens may cause the postponement of a marriage; but beyond this there seems to be no regular method of obtaining or seeking divine sanction for the marriage; an offering of cooked food may be made to Bali-Penyalong, by placing it on a stake beneath the image of the crocodile (which seems to serve as an altar) with some dedicatory words — for like the other peoples the Punans are voluble in speech, both in human intercourse and in appealing to the supernatural powers. On such occasions the words uttered usually take in part the form of a prayer for protection from danger.

Those who are accustomed to all the complex comforts and resources of civilisation, and to whom all these resources hardly suffice to make tolerable the responsibility and labour of the rearing of a family, can hardly fail to be filled with wonder at the thought of these gentle savages bearing and rearing large families of healthy well-mannered children in the damp jungle, without so much as a permanent shelter above their heads. The rude shelter of boughs and leaves, which is their only house, is perhaps made a little more private than usual for the benefit of the labouring woman. The pregnant woman goes on with her work up to the moment of labour and resumes it almost immediately afterwards. She at once becomes responsible for the care of the infant. The only special treatment after childbirth is to sit with the back close to a fire, so as to heat it as much as can be borne. The delivery is sometimes aided by tightly binding the body above the gravid uterus in order, it would seem, to prevent any retrogression of the process. While the mother goes about her work in camp, the infant is usually suspended in a sling of bark-cloth from a bent sapling or branch, an arrangement which enables the mother to rock and so soothe the child by means of an occasional push. When travelling or working in the jungle the mother carries the infant slung upon her back, either in a bark-cloth or a specially constructed cradle of plaited rattan such as is used by the Kayans. The infant is suckled from one to two years, and then takes to the ordinary diet of boiled wild sago, varied with other animal and vegetable products of the jungle.

The children begin to help in the family work at a very early age. They are disciplined largely by frequent warnings against dangers, actual and suppositious, of which they remain acutely conscious throughout life. This discipline no doubt contributes largely to induce the air and the attitude of timid alertness which are so characteristic of the Punan. Harmony and mutual help are the rule within the family circle, as well as throughout the larger community; the men generally treat their wives and children with all kindness, and the women perform their duties cheerfully and faithfully.

The religious beliefs and practices of the Punans are similar to those of the Kayans, but are less elaborated. They observe a simpler system of omens, of which the behaviour and calls of lizards and grasshoppers and of the civet cat (ARCTOGALE) are the chief. They pray to Bali Penyalong, who seems to be the principal object of their trust. This being is probably conceived anthropomorphically, but his human qualities are not so clearly marked as in the case of the gods of the settled tribes. They make no images in human form, and we do not know that Bali Penyalong is supposed by them to have a wife. The only image used in rites is the wooden image of the crocodile, which is carried from place to place with every change of camp. In communicating with the omen-creatures, fire and the frayed sticks are used in much the same way as by the Kayans. Their rites involve no animal sacrifices, and they do not look for guidance or answer to prayer in the entrails of animals. It seems probable that the Punans in each region have absorbed some of their religious and superstitious notions from the settled tribes of the same region; for in each region the Punan beliefs are different, showing more or less affinity to those of the settled tribes. It is an obscure question whether all their religious belief has been thus absorbed from more cultured neighbours, or whether the Punans represent in this and other respects the perpetuation (perhaps with some degeneration or impoverishment) of a more primitive culture once common to the ancestors of all, or the greater part of, the tribes of Borneo.[175] The fact that the principal divinity recognised by them bears the same name (Bali Penyalong) as the chief god of the Kenyahs is compatible with either view.

Beside Bali Penyalong the Punans are aware of the existence of other divinities, which, however, are very obscurely conceived and seldom approached with prayer or rite. As regards the land of shades and the journey thither, Punan beliefs are closely similar to those of Kenyahs and some of the Klemantans. Their account of the journey of the dead includes the passage of a river guarded by a great fish and a hornbill (see Chap. XIV.). But they practice no burial and no funeral rites. As soon as a man dies in any camp, the whole community moves on to a new camp, leaving his body under one of their rude shelters, covered only with a few leaves and branches.

Their view of the life after death seems to involve no system of retribution and to be wellnigh devoid of moral significance. Their religious beliefs probably influence their conduct less strongly than do those of the Kayans; for among the latter such beliefs certainly make strongly for social conduct, I.E. for obedience to the chiefs and for observance of custom and public opinion; but in the Punan community the conditions of life are so simple and so nearly in harmony with the impulses of the natural man that temptations to wrong-doing are few and weak; external sanctions of conduct, therefore, are but little needed and but little operative.

Danger assails the Punan on every side and at all times, hence alertness, energy, and courage are the prime virtues; courage is rated highest, and a woman looks especially for courage in her husband. But though courageous and active, Punans are not pugnacious; as was said above, they rarely or never fight against one another, and the nomadic groups of each region maintain friendly relations with one another. Within each group harmony and mutual helpfulness is the rule; each shares with all members of the group whatever food, whether vegetable or animal, he may procure by skill or good fortune. On returning to camp with a piece of game, a Punan throws it down in the midst and it is treated as common property. If he has slain a large pig or deer, too heavy for him to bring in unaided, he returns to camp and modestly keeps silence over his achievement until some question as to his luck is put to him; then he remarks that he has left some small piece of game in the jungle, a mere trifle. Three or four men will then set out and, following the path he has marked by bending down twigs on his way back to camp, will find the game and bring it in. If a present of tobacco is made to one member of a group of Punans, the whole mass is divided by one of them into as many heaps as there are members of the band present; and then each of them, men and women alike, takes one heap for his or her own use, the one who divided the mass taking the heap left by the rest.

In spite of their shyness and timidity, they respond readily to kind treatment. They are never seen on the rivers, as they have no boats and cannot easily be persuaded to venture a trip in a boat. It is possible to make many expeditions through the jungle without getting any glimpse of them. One of us (C. H.) had lived in the Baram district six years before succeeding in seeing a single Punan. The history of his first meeting with Punans may serve to illustrate their timidity, caution, and good feeling. On making a long hunting trip on the slopes of Mount Dulit, he took with him a Sebop who was familiar with Punans and their language. For some days no trace of them was seen; but one morning freshly made footprints were observed round about the camp. The following night a cleft stick was set up at some twenty paces from the camp with a large cake of tobacco in the cleft, and on the stick a mark was carved which would be understood by the Punans as implying that they were at liberty to take the tobacco. This is a method of opening communications and trade with them well known to the Klemantans. In the morning the tobacco had disappeared, and fresh foot prints showed that its disappearance was due to human agency. The following night this procedure was repeated, and in the course of the day Punan shouts were heard, coming from a distance of some hundreds of yards. The interpreter was sent out with instructions to parley and, if possible, to persuade the Punans to come into camp. Presently he returned with two shy but curious strangers, who squatted at some distance and were gradually encouraged to come to close quarters. After staying a few minutes and accepting presents of tobacco and cloth, they made off. On the following day they returned with eight male companions, bringing a monkey, a hornbill, and a rare bird, all killed with their poisoned darts; and they enquired how much rubber they should bring in return for the tobacco. They were told that no return was expected, but, understanding that animals of all sorts were being collected, they attached themselves to the party, lent their unmatched skill to adding to the collections, and brought in many rare specimens that now repose safely in the Natural History Museum at South Kensington. They soon gained confidence and took up their sleeping quarters under the raised floor of the rough hut; and, when after some weeks the time for parting came, they voluntarily took a prominent part in carrying down the collections to the boats, and went away well satisfied with the simple presents they received.

Punans never build boats or travel on the water of their own initiative and agency. In fact they dislike to come out from the shade of the forest on to a cleared space or the stony bed of the river. They are very conservative in spite of their intercourse with more advanced tribes, and they harbour many irrational prejudices. They entertain a particular aversion to the crocodile, an aversion strongly tinged with awe. They will not kill it or any one of their omen-beasts. They are very shy of whatever is unfamiliar. Many of them will not eat salt or rice when opportunity offers.

The medicine men or DAYONGS of the Punans are distinguished for their knowledge and skill, and are in much request among the other tribes for the catching of souls and the extraction of pains and disease. They are therefore fairly numerous; but, as among the other peoples, the calling is a highly specialised one, though not one which occupies a man's whole time or excuses him from the usual labours of his community. Their methods do not differ widely from those of the Kayan and Kenyah DAYONGS.

The Punan has great faith in charms, especially for bringing good luck in hunting. He usually carries, tied to his quiver, a bundle of small objects which have forcibly attracted his attention for any reason, E.G. a large quartz crystal, a strangely shaped tusk or tooth or pebble, etc., and this bundle of charms is dipped in the blood of the animals that fall to his blow-pipe.

As regards dress and weapons the Punan differs little from his neighbours. A scanty waist-cloth of home-made bark-cloth, or equally scanty skirt for the woman, strings of small beads round wrists or ankles or both, numbers of slender bands of plaited palm-fibre below the knees and about the wrists, and sometimes a strip of cloth round the head, make up his costume for all occasions.

All his belongings are such as can easily be transported. He carries a sword, a small knife, a blow-pipe with spear-blade attached, and a small axe with long narrow blade for working camphor out of the heart of the camphor-tree. Besides these essential tools and weapons, which he constantly carries, the family possesses sago-mallets and sieves, dishes and spoons or spatulas of hard wood, and tongs of bamboo for eating sago,[176] a few iron pots,[177] large baskets for carrying on the back, a few mats of plaited rattan, and small bamboo boxes.

These are the sum of the worldly goods of a Punan family, and it would, we suppose, be difficult to find another people who combine so great a poverty in material possessions with so high a level of contentment and decent orderly active living.

Although his material possessions are so few, the Punan is not capable of fashioning all of them by his own independent efforts. All his metal tools he obtains from the Kayans (or other tribes) who are his patrons. But everything else he makes with his own hands. The long blow-pipe of polished hard-wood, which is his favourite weapon, he makes by the same methods and as well as the Kayans. But the iron rod which he uses in the process of boring the wood he cannot make. This illustrates his intimate dependence on other tribes, and seems to imply that the blow-pipe, at least in the highly finished form in which it is now used, cannot have been an independent achievement of the Punans. They are especially skilful in the plaiting of rattan strips to make baskets, mats, and sieves. They do little wood-carving, but carve some pretty handles for knives and decorative pieces for the sword-sheaths from the bones of the gibbon and deer. They are expert also in making bamboo pipes with which to imitate the calls of the deer and of some of the birds.

Hunting, tracking, and trapping game are the principal and favourite pursuits of the men; they display much ingenuity in these pursuits and attain a wonderful skill in the interpretation of the signs of the jungle. For example, a Punan is generally able to read from the tracks left in the jungle by the passage of a party of men, the number of the party, and much other information about it. They are expert scouts, and, when their neighbourhood is invaded by any party whose intentions are not clearly pacific, they will follow them for many days, keeping them under close observation while remaining completely hidden.

The Punan has few recreations. His highest artistic achievement is in song. His principal musical instrument is a simple harp made from a length of thick bamboo (Fig. 86); from the surface of this six longitudinal strips are detached throughout the length of a section of twenty inches or more, but retain at both ends their natural attachments. Each strip is raised from the surface by a pair of small wooden bridges, and is tuned by adjusting the interval between these. The only other musical instrument is a very simple "harmonica." A series of strips of hard-wood, slightly hollowed and adjusted in length, are laid across the shins of the operator, who beats upon them with two sticks. But the finest songs are sung without accompaniment and are of the nature of dramatic recitals in the manner of a somewhat monotonous and melancholy recitative. To hear a wild Punan, standing in the midst of a solemn circle lit only by a few torches which hardly seem to avail to keep back the vast darkness of the sleeping jungle, recite with dramatic gesture the adventures of a departing soul on its way to the land of shades, is an experience which makes a deep impression, one not devoid of aesthetic quality.

In dancing, the Punan attains only a very modest level. The men dance upon a narrow plank (for the good reason that they have nothing else to dance upon); and the exhibition is one of skilful balancing on this restricted base while executing a variety of turning movements and postures. The women dance in groups with very restricted movements of the feet, and some monotonous swaying movements of the arms and body. The men also imitate the movements of monkeys and of the hornbill and the various strange sounds made by the latter.

The most striking evidence of the low cultural standing of the Punan is the fact that he cannot count beyond three (the words are JA, DUA, TELO); all larger numbers are for him merely many (PINA). Yet, although in culture he stands far below all the settled agricultural tribes, there is no sufficient reason for assuming him to be innately inferior to them in any considerable degree, whether morally or intellectually. Any such assumption is rendered untenable by the fact that many Punans have quickly assimilated the mode of life and general culture of the other tribes; and there can be no doubt, we think, that many of the tribes that we have classed as Klemantan and Kenyah are very closely related to the Punans, and may properly be regarded as Punans that have adopted Kayan or Malay culture some generations ago.

CHAPTER 20

Moral and Intellectual Peculiarities

In this chapter we propose to bring together a number of observations which have found no place in foregoing chapters but which will throw further light on the moral and intellectual status of the pagan tribes.

We have seen that among the Kayans the immediate sanction of all actions and of judgments of approval and disapproval is custom, and that the sanction of custom is generally supported by the fear of the TOH and of the harm they may inflict upon the whole house. The principle of collective or communal responsibility of the household, which is thus recognised in face of the spiritual powers, as well as in face of other communities, gives every man an interest in the good behaviour of his fellows, and at the same time develops in him the sense of obligation towards his community. The small size of each community, its separation and clear demarcation by its residence under a single roof, its subordination to a single chief, and its perpetual conflict and rivalry with other neighbouring communities of similar constitution, all these circumstances also make strongly for the development in each of its members of a strong collective consciousness, that is to say, of a clear consciousness of the community and of his place within it and a strong sentiment of attachment to it. The attachment of each individual to his community is also greatly strengthened by the fact that it is hardly possible for him to leave it, even if he would. For he could not hope to maintain himself alone, or as the head of an isolated family, against the hostile forces, natural and human, that would threaten him; and it would be very difficult for him to gain admittance to any other community.

It is only when we consider these facts that we can understand how smoothly the internal life of the community generally runs, how few serious offences are committed, how few are the quarrels, and how few the instances of insubordination towards the chief, and how tact and good sense can rule the house without inflicting any other punishment than fines and compensatory payments.

And yet, when all these circumstances have been taken into account, the orderly behaviour of a Kayan community must be in part regarded as evidence of the native superiority of character or disposition of the Kayans. For though the Sea Dayaks, Klemantans, and Muruts, live under very similar conditions, they do not attain the same high level of social or moral conduct. Among the Muruts there is much drunkenness and consequent disorder, and the same is true in a less degree of the Sea Dayaks; among them and some of the Klemantan tribes quarrels within the house are of frequent occurrence, generally over disputed ownership of land, crops, fruit-trees, or other property. And these quarrels are not easily composed by the chiefs. Such quarrels not infrequently lead to the splitting of a community, or to the migration of the whole house with the exception of one troublesome member and his family, who are left in inglorious isolation in the old house.

But the higher level of conduct of the Kayans is in most respects rivalled by that of the Kenyahs, and some importance must therefore be attributed to the one prominent feature of their social organisation which is peculiar to these two peoples, namely a clearly marked stratification into three social strata between which but little intermarriage takes place. This stratification undoubtedly makes for a higher level of conduct throughout the communities in which it obtains; for the members of the higher or chiefly class are brought up with a keen sense of their responsibility towards the community, and their example and authority do much to maintain the standards of conduct of the middle and lower classes.

We have said that almost all offences are punished by fines only. Of the few offences which are felt to require a heavier punishment, the one most seriously regarded is incest. For this offence, which is held to bring grave peril to the whole house, especially the danger of starvation through failure of the PADI crop, two punishments have been customary. If the guilt of the culprits is perfectly clear, they are taken to some open spot on the river-bank at some distance from the house. There they are thrown together upon the ground and a sharpened bamboo stake is driven through their bodies, so that they remain pinned to the earth. The bamboo, taking root and growing luxuriantly on this spot, remains as a warning to all who pass by; and, needless to say, the spot is looked on with horror and shunned by all men. The other method of punishment is to shut up the offenders in a strong wicker cage and to throw them into the river. This method is resorted to as a substitute for the former one, owing to the difficulty of getting any one to play the part of executioner and to drive in the stake, for this involves the shedding of the blood of the community.

The kind of incest most commonly committed is the connection of a man with an adopted daughter, and (possibly on account of this frequency) this is the kind which is most strongly reprobated. It is obvious also that this form of incest requires a specially strong check in any community in which the adoption of children is a common practice. For, in the absence of severe penalties for this form of incest, a man might be tempted to adopt female children in order to use them as concubines. We find support for this view of the ground of the especially severe censure on incest of this form in the fact that intercourse between a youth and his sister-by-adoption (or VICE VERSA) is not regarded as incest, and the relation is not regarded as any bar to marriage. We know of at least one instance of marriage between two young Kenyahs brought up together as adopted brother and sister.[178] Of other forms of incest the more common (though, it should be said, incest of any form is very infrequent) are those involving father and daughter, brother and sister, and brother and half-sister.

The punishment of the incestuous couple does not suffice to ward off the danger brought by them upon the community. The household must be purified with the blood of pigs and fowls; the animals used are the property of the offenders or of their family; and in this way a fine is imposed.

When any calamity threatens or falls upon a house, especially a great rising of the river which threatens to sweep away the house or the tombs of the household, the Kayans are led to suspect that incestuous intercourse in their own or in neighbouring houses has taken place; and they look round for evidences of it, and sometimes detect a case which otherwise would have remained hidden. It seems probable that there is some intimate relation between this belief and the second of the two modes of punishment described above; but we have no direct evidence of such connection.[179]

All the other peoples also, except the Punans, punish incest with death. Among the Sea Dayaks the most common form of incest is that between a youth and his aunt, and this is regarded at least as seriously as any other form. It must be remembered that, owing to the frequency of divorce and remarriage among the Sea Dayaks, a youth may find himself in the position of step-son to half a dozen or more divorced step-mothers, some of them perhaps of his own age, and that each of them may have several sisters, all of whom are reckoned as his aunts; therefore he must walk warily in his amorous adventures.

Sexual perversion of any form is, we think, extremely rare among the pagan tribes of Borneo. We have never heard of any case of homosexuality on good authority, and we have never heard any reference made to it; and that constitutes, to our thinking, strong evidence that vice of that kind is unknown among most of the tribes. It is not unknown, though not common, among the Malays and Chinese, and, if cases occur sporadically among the pagans, they are presumably due to infection from those quarters.

Homicide

Kayans, as we have seen, have no scruple in shedding the blood of their enemies, but they very seldom or never go to war with other Kayans; and the shedding of Kayan blood by Kayans is of rare occurrence. To shed human blood, even that of an enemy, in the house is against custom. Nevertheless murder of Kayan by Kayan, even by members of the same house, is not unknown. In a wanton case, where two or more men have deliberately attacked another and slain him, or one has killed another by stealth, the culprit (or culprits) would usually be made to pay very heavy compensation to relatives, the amount being greater the higher the social status and the greater the wealth of the culprit; the amount may equal, in fact, the whole of his property and more besides; and he might, in order to raise the amount, have to sell himself into slavery to another, slavery being their only equivalent to imprisonment. The relatives would probably desire to kill the murderers; but the chief would generally restrain them and would find his task rendered easier by the fact that, if they insist on taking the murderer's life, they would forfeit their right to compensation.[180] The amount of the compensation to be paid would not depend upon the social standing of the murdered man, but the fine paid to the house or chief would be heavier in proportion to his rank. But we have knowledge of cases in which chiefs have, with the approval of the house, had a murderer put to the sword. The murderer who has paid compensation has, however, by no means set himself right with the household; they continue to look askance at him. Set fights or duels between men of the same house are very rare. If a Kayan of one house kills one of another, his chief would see that he paid a proper compensation to the relatives, as well as a fine to his own house. If a man killed his own slave, he would be liable to no punishment unless the act were committed in the house; but public opinion would strongly disapprove.

'Running AMOK' is not unknown among Kayans, though it is very rare. If a man in this condition of blind fury kills any one, he is cut down and killed, unless he is in the house; in which case he would be knocked senseless with clubs, carried out of the house into the jungle, and there slain.

Drunkenness during an act of criminal violence is regarded as a mitigating circumstance, and the fines and compensation imposed would be of smaller amount than in a case of similar crime deliberately committed.

Suicide is strongly reprobated, and, as we have seen, the shades of those who die by their own hands are believed to lead a miserable and lonely existence in a distressful country, Tan Tekkan, in which they wander picking up mere scraps of food in the jungle. Nevertheless, suicides occur among Kayans of both sexes. The commonest occasion is the enforced separation of lovers, rather than the despair of rejected lovers. We have known of two instances of Kayan youths who, having formed attachments during a long stay in a distant house and who then, finding themselves under the necessity of returning home with their chief and unable to arrange marriage with their fair ones, have committed suicide. The method most commonly adopted is to go off alone into the jungle and there to stab a knife into the carotid artery. The body of a suicide is generally buried without ceremony on the spot where it is found. Suicides of women are rarer than those of men; desertion by a lover is the commonest cause.

Dishonesty in the form of pilfering or open robbery by violence are of very rare occurrence. Yet temptations to both are not lacking. Fruittrees on the river-bank, even at some distance from any village, are generally private property, and though they offer a great temptation to passing crews when their fruit is ripe, the rights of the proprietor are usually respected or compensation voluntarily paid. Theft within the house or village is practically unknown. Even before the European governments were established, Malay and Chinese traders occasionally penetrated with boat-loads of goods far into the interior; and now such enterprises are regularly and frequently undertaken. Occasionally a trader establishes himself in a village for months together, driving a profitable trade in hardware, cloth, tobacco, etc. These traders usually travel in a small boat with a company or crew of only two or three men, and they are practically defenceless against any small party of the natives who might choose to rob or murder them. Such traders have now and again been robbed, and sometimes also murdered, by roving bands of Sea Dayaks, but we know of no such act committed by Kayans or Kenyahs. The trader puts himself under the protection of a chief and then feels his life and property to be safe.

It would not be true to say that the Kayans or any of the other peoples are always strictly truthful. They are given to exaggeration in describing any event, and their accounts are apt to be strongly biassed in their own favour. Nevertheless, deliberate lying is a thing to be ashamed of, and a man who gets himself a reputation as a liar is regarded with small favour by his fellows.

The Kayans, as we have said elsewhere, are not coarse of speech, and both men and women are strictly modest in respect to the display of the body. Though the costume of both sexes is so scanty, the proprieties are observed. The Kayan man never exposes his GENITALIA even when bathing in the company of his fellows, but, if necessary, uses his hands as a screen. The bearing of the women is habitually modest, and though their single garment might be supposed to afford insufficient protection, they wear it with an habitual skill that compensates for the scantiness of its dimensions; they bathe naked in the river before the house, but they slip off their aprons and glide into the water deftly and swiftly; and on emerging they resume their garments with equal skill, so that they cannot be said to expose themselves unclothed. The same is true of most of the other tribes, with the exception of the men of Kenyah and Klemantan communities that inhabit the central highlands; these, when hauling their boats through the rapids, will divest themselves of all clothing, or will sit naked round a fire while their waist-cloths are being dried, without the least embarrassment.

There is no Kayan word known to us that could properly be translated as justice or just, injustice or unjust. Yet it is obvious that they view just conduct with approval and unjust with disapproval; and they express their feelings and moral judgments by saying laconically of any particular decision by a chief, TEKAP or NUSI TEKAP. But the word TEKAP is of more general application than our word 'just,' and might be applied to any situation which evokes a judgment of moral approval; for example, on witnessing any breach of custom or infringement of tabu a Kayan would say NUSI TEKAP; TEKAP, in short, is applicable to whatever is as it ought to be.

Specialised terms for moral qualities of character and conduct are, however, not lacking. A just and wise chief would be said to be TENANG; but this word implies less purely a moral quality than our word justice and more of intellectual capacity or knowledge or accuracy; the word is more especially applied as a term to describe the quality of a political speech which meets with approval. The word HAMAN means skilful, or clever, or cunning, in the older sense of capable both physically and intellectually. A man who fights pluckily is said to be MAKANG, and the same word is applied to any daring or dashing feat, such as crossing the river when it is dangerously swollen. To disregard omens would be MAKANG also; it seems, therefore, to have the flavour of the word rash or foolhardy.

SAIOH means good in the sense of kindly, pleasantly toned, or agreeable. JAAK is bad in the sense of a bad crop or an unfortunate occurrence, or a sore foot, I.E. it conveys no moral flavour. Morally bad is expressed by SALA; this is used in the same sense in Malay and may well be a recently-adopted word. In general the language seems to be very poor in terms expressive of disapproval, adverse judgments being generally expressed by putting nusi, the negative or primitive particle, before the corresponding word of positive import; thus a cowardly act or man would be denounced as NUSI MAKANG.

We think it is true to say that, although they thus distinguish the principal qualities of character and conduct with appropriate adjectival terms, they have no substantival terms for the virtues and vices, and that they have not fully accomplished the processes of abstraction implied by the appropriate use of such highly abstract substantives.

As regards the influence of their religious beliefs on the moral conduct of the Kayans, we have seen that the fear of the TOH serves as a constant check on the breach of customs, which customs are in the main salutary and essential for the maintenance of social order; this fear does at the least serve to develop in the people the power of selfcontrol and the habit of deliberation before action. The part which the major spirits or gods are supposed to play in bringing or fending off the major calamities remains extremely vague and incapable of definition; in the main, faithful observation of the omens, of rites, and of custom generally, seems to secure the favour of the gods, and in some way their protection; and thus the gods make for morality. Except in regard to that part of conduct which is accurately prescribed by custom and tradition, their influence seems to be negligible, and the high standard of the Kayans in neighbourliness, in mutual help and consideration, in honesty and forbearance, seems to be maintained without the direct support of their religious beliefs.

The high moral level attained by individuals among the Kayans and Kenyahs, and less frequently by Klemantans, is, we think, best exemplified by the enlightened and public-spirited conduct of some of the principal chiefs. It might have been expected that the leading chiefs of warlike and conquering peoples like the Kayans and Kenyahs, which, until the advent of the European governments, had never encountered any resistance which they could not break down by armed force, would have been wholly devoted to conquest and rapine; and that a chief who had acquired a high prestige and found himself able to secure the adhesion in war of a number of other chiefs and their followers would have been inspired with the barbarous ideals of an Alexander, a Napoleon, a Chaka, or a Cetewayo. But though some of them have shown tendencies of this kind, there have been notable exceptions who have recognised that chronic hostility, distrust, and warfare, which had always been characteristic of the relations between the various tribes and villages, were an unmixed evil. Such men have used their influence consistently and tactfully and energetically to establish peaceful relations between the tribes. Unlike some savage chieftains of warrior tribes in other parts of the world, such as some of those produced by the Bantu race, or those who established the great confederation of the Iroquois tribes, they have not sought merely to bring about the combination of all the communities of their own stock in order to dominate over or to exterminate all other tribes. They have rather pursued a policy of reconcilement and conciliation, aiming at establishing relations of friendship and confidence between the communities of all languages and races. One such powerful Kenyah chief of the Baram district, Laki Avit, had earned a high reputation for such statesmanship before the district was incorporated in the Raj of Sarawak. His policy was to bring about intermarriages between the families of the chiefs and upper-class people of the various tribes. Tama Bulan (see Pl. 27), the leading Kenyah chief of the same district at a later time, spared no efforts to bring about friendly meetings between chiefs of different tribes, for the purpose of making peace and of promoting intercourse and mutual understanding.[181] It should be added that these peacemaking ceremonies are generally of lasting effect; the oaths then taken are respected even by succeeding generations. Tama Kuling, who a decade ago was the most influential of the Batang Kayan chiefs, had also spontaneously pursued a similar policy.[182]

It has been said of many savage peoples that they recognise no natural death, but believe that all deaths not due to violence are due to black magic. No such statement can be made of the Kayans; few, if any, deaths are ascribed by them to the efforts of sorcerers. Natural death is recognised as inevitable in old age, and disease is vaguely conceived as the effect of natural causes; though as to what those natural causes are they have no definite ideas. This attitude is shown by their readiness to make use of European drugs and of remedies for external application. Quinine for fever, and sulphate of copper for the treatment of yaws, are most in demand. Cholera and smallpox are the great epidemic diseases which have ravaged large areas of Borneo from time to time. The Kayans recognise that both these diseases spread up river from village to village, and that to abstain from intercourse with all villages lower down river and to prevent any one coming up river contributes to their immunity. With this object the people of a tributary stream will fell trees across its mouth or lower reaches so as to block it completely to the passage of boats, or, as a less drastic measure, will stretch a rope of rattan from bank to bank as a sign that no one may enter (Pl. 183). Such a sign is generally respected by the inhabitants of other parts of the river-basin. They are aware also of the risk of infection that attends the handling of a corpse of one who has died of epidemic disease, and they attempt to minimise it by throwing a rope around it and dragging it to the graveyard, and there burying it in a shallow grave in the earth, without touching it with the hands.[183]

The Kayans have some slight knowledge of the medicinal properties of some herbs, and make general use of them. They administer as an aperient a decoction of the leaves of a certain plant, called OROBONG, which they cultivate for the purpose on their farms. The root of the ginger plant is used both internally and for external application. A variety of vegetable products are used in preparing liniments; the basis most in request for these is the fat of the python and of other snakes, but wild pig's fat is used as a more easily obtainable substitute.

There is a small common squirrel (SCIURUS EXILIS), the testicles of which are strikingly large in proportion to his body. These organs are dried and reduced to powder, and this powder, mixed with pig's fat, is rubbed over the back and loins in cases of impotence.[184]

Kayan mothers treat colic in their children by chewing the dried root of a creeper (known as PADO TANA) with betel nut, and spitting out the juice on the belly of the patient.

Some of the coastwise Klemantans make use of a bitter decoction of a certain creeper as a remedy for jungle fever. It is asserted by Kayans and others that the Punans make use of the poison of the IPOH tree (the poison used on their darts) as an internal remedy for fever. It is said also (probably with truth, we think) that the Punans also apply the IPOH poison to snake-bites and to festering wounds.[185]

Surgery

Broken limbs are bound round with neat splints made of thin slips of bamboo tied in parallel series. Little effort is made to bring the broken ends of the bones into their proper positions or to reduce dislocations. Abscesses are not usually opened with the knife, but are rather encouraged to point, and are then opened by pressure. A cold poultice of chopped leaves is applied to a bad boil or superficial abscess, and it is protected from blows and friction by a small cage of slips of rattan. Festering wounds are dressed with the chewed leaves or the juice of the tobacco plant, or are washed with a solution of common salt. But a clean wound is merely bound up with a rag; or, if there is much haemorrhage, wood ashes are first applied. They practise no more efficient methods for arresting haemorrhage.

Headache is treated by tugging the hair of the scalp in small bundles in systematic order. Massage of the muscles is practised for the relief of pain, and massage is applied to the abdomen in cases of obstinate constipation; in certain cases they claim to break up hard lumps in the belly by squeezing them with the hands. Bodily aches and fatigue are relieved by pulling and bending the parts of the limbs until all the joints crack in turn.

Cupping is perhaps the most frequently practised surgical operation. Severe internal bruising from falls or heavy blows is the usual occasion. The operation is performed by scratching the skin with the point of a knife, and then applying the mouth of a bamboo cup previously heated over the fire. The cup is a piece of bamboo some five or six inches in length and an inch or rather more in diameter. Its edge is thinned and smoothed. Several of these may be simultaneously applied in a case of extensive bruising. Since this operation, like tatuing, involves the shedding of blood, some small offering, such as a few beads, must be made to the patient by the operator.

The Kayans have distinct numerals up to ten (JI, DUA, TELO, PAT, LIMER, NAM, TUSU, SAYA, PITAN, PULU). Those from eleven to nineteen are formed by prefixing PULU ( = ten) to the names of the digits; and those from twenty to twenty-nine by prefixing DUA PULU ( = two twenty); and so on up to JI ATOR ( = one hundred). Two hundred is DUA ATOR, three hundred is TELO ATOR, and so on up to MIBU ( = one thousand). All or most of the other tribes (except the Punans) have a similar system of numerals, though the numbers beyond the first ten are little used. In counting any objects that cannot be held in the hand or placed in a row, the Kayan (and most of the other peoples) bends down one finger for each object told off or enumerated, beginning with the little finger of the right hand, passing at six to that of the left hand, and then to the big toe of the right foot, and lastly to that of the left foot. When all the names or objects have been mentioned, he holds the toe reached until he or some one else has told off the number; if the number was, say, seventeen, he would keep hold of the second toe of the left foot until he had counted up the number implied by that toe, either by means of counting or by adding up five and five and five and two; unless the count ends on the little toe of the left foot, when he knows at once that the number is twenty. If a larger number than twenty is to be counted, as when, for example, a chief has to pay in tax for each door of his house, he calls in the aid of several men, who sit before him. One of these tells off his fingers and toes as the chief utters the names of the heads of the rooms; and when twenty have been counted in this way, a second man begins on his fingers, while the first continues to hold on to all his toes. A third and a fourth man may be used in the same way to complete the count; and when it is completed, the total is found by reckoning each man as two tens, and adding the number of fingers and toes held down by the last man. The reckoning of the tens is done by addition rather than multiplication. Both multiplication and division are almost unknown operations.

When a chief is getting ready to pay in the door tax of two dollars a door, he does not count the doors and then multiply the number by two: he simply lays down two dollars for each door and pays in the lot, generally without knowing the sum total of the dollars. If a chief were told to pay in the tax for half his doors only, he would not know how to carry out the instruction. Subtraction is accomplished only in the most concrete manner, E.G. if a man wished to take away eight from twenty-five, he would count out twenty-five of the objects in question, or of bits of leaf or stick, then push away eight and count up the remainder. A dodge sometimes adopted, especially by the Kenyah, for counting the persons present, is to take a fern-leaf with many fronds, tear off a half of each frond, handing each piece to one of the men, until every man present affirms that he has a piece, and then to count the number of torn fronds remaining on the stalk.

It will thus be seen that the arithmetical operations of the Kayans are of an extremely concrete character; those of the other tribes are similar (with the exception again of the Punans, who do not count beyond three); though many of the Klemantans get confused over simple counting and reckoning, which the Kayans accomplish successfully.

Tama Bulan, the Kenyah chief whom we have had occasion to mention in several connections, obtained and learnt the use of an abacus from a Chinaman, and used it effectively. This deficiency in arithmetic is, however, no evidence of innate intellectual inferiority, and there seems to be no good reason to doubt that most of the people could be taught to use figures as readily as the average European; those children who have entered the schools seem to pick up arithmetic with normal rapidity.

The Sea Dayaks sometimes deposit sums of money with the Government officers, and they know accurately the number of dollars paid in; but when they withdraw the deposit, they generally expect to receive the identical dollars paid in by them.

Measurement

The Kayans use two principal standards of length, namely, the BUKA and the BUHAK. The former is the length of the span from finger-tip to tip of outstretched arms; the latter is the length of the span from tip of the thumb to tip of the first finger of the same hand. In buying a pig, for example, the price is determined by the number of BUHAK required to encircle its body just behind the forelegs. The half BUKA is also in general use, especially in measuring rattans cut for sale, the required length of which is two and a half BUKA. In order to express the half, they have adopted the Malay word STINGAH, having no word of their own.

Distances between villages are always expressed in terms of the average time taken by a boat in ascending the stream from one to the other. Distances by land are expressed still more vaguely; for example, the distance between the heads of two streams might be expressed by saying that, if you bathe in one, your hair would still be wet when you reach the other (which means about one hour); or a longer distance, by saying that if you started at the usual time from one of the places you would reach the other when the sun is as high as the hawk (which means a journey from sunrise to about 10 A.M.), or when the sun is overhead (I.E. noon), or when it is declining (about 3 P.M.), or when the sun is put out (sunset), or when it is dark.

In order to describe the size of a solid object such as a fish, a Kayan would compare its thickness with that of some part of his body, the forearm, the calf of the leg, the thigh, or head, or the waist. In describing the thickness of the subcutaneous fat of a pig, he would mention one, two, three, or even four fingers.

Cosmological and Geographical Notions

The more intelligent Kayans can give a fairly good general description of the geographical features and relations of the district in which they live. In order to do this a Kayan will map out the principal features on a smooth surface by placing pieces of stick to represent the rivers and their tributaries, and pieces of leaf to represent the hills and mountains; he will pay special attention to the relations of the sources of the various streams. In this way a Kayan chief of the Baram would construct a tolerably accurate map of the whole Baram district, putting in Bruni and USUN APO and the heads of the Rejang, Batang Kayan, Tutong, and Balait rivers. He knows that all the rivers run to the sea, though few Kayans have seen the sea or, indeed, been outside the basin of their own river. To have been to another river, or to have seen the sea, is a just ground of pride. He does not know that Borneo is an island, though he knows that the white men and the Chinese come from over the sea; he will confidently assert that the sea is many times larger than the Baram river, even ten times as large. They seem to regard the sea as a big river of which their main river is a tributary.

Ibans sometimes speak of AIROPA (meaning Europe), which they take to mean the river Ropa, as the home of the white man; and all the tribesmen are apt to think of foreigners as living on the banks of rivers in forest-covered country much like their own.

Although the Kayans do not observe the stars and their movements for practical purposes, they are familiar with the principal constellations, and have fanciful names for them, and relate mythical stories about the personages they are supposed to represent (Chap. XVII.).[186] They seem to have paid no special attention to the planets. Inconsistently with the star myths, the stars are regarded as small holes in the floor of another and brighter world, and it is said that these holes have been made by the roots of plants which have penetrated through the soil of that world.

The sky is regarded as a dome which meets the earth on every hand, and this limiting zone is spoken of as the edge of the sky; but they have no notion how far away this edge may be; they recognise that, no matter how many days one travels in any one direction, one never gets appreciably nearer to it, and they conclude, therefore, that it must be very distant. They understand that the clouds are very much less distant than the sky, and that they merely float about the earth. Neither sun nor moon seems to be regarded as animated.

Two total eclipses of the sun have occurred in Borneo in the last half-century. These, of course, caused much excitement and some consternation.[187] The former of them serves as a fixed date in relation to which other events are dated.

The traditional lore of the Kayans provides answers of a kind to many of the deep questions that the spirit of enquiry proposes whenever man has made provision against the most urgent needs of his animal nature. Yet the keener intelligences among them do not rest satisfied with these conventional answers; rather, they ponder some of the deepest questions and discuss them with one another from time to time. One question we have heard debated is — Why do not the dead return? Or rather, Why do they become visible only in dreams and even then so seldom? The meeting of dead friends in dreams generally leaves the Kayan doubtful whether he has really seen his friend; and he will try to obtain evidence of the reality of the REVENANT by prayer and by looking for a favourable answer in the liver of a pig, the entrails of a fowl, or in the behaviour of the omen birds. They argue that persons who have been much attached to their relatives and friends would surely return to visit them frequently if such return were at all possible.

The relation of the sky to the earth remains also an open and disputed question. One of us well remembers how, when staying in a Kenyah house, he was approached by a group of youths who evidently were debating some knotty problem, and how they very seriously propounded the following question: — If a dart were shot straight up into the air and went on and on, what would become of it? Would it come up against the sky and be stopped by it?

The whereabouts of the home of the white men, and how long is spent on the journey thither, are questions often raised. Tama Bulan once raised the question of the motion of the sun, and having been told that really the earth revolves and that the sun only appears to move round it, he argued that this could hardly be, since we see the sun move every day. For a long time he said nothing more on this topic to us, but it continued to occupy his mind; for some years later he recurred to it and announced that he now accepted the once incredible doctrine, because he had inquired concerning it of every European he had been able to meet, and all had given him the same answer.

The methods of argument of the Kayans are characteristic and worthy of a short description. As we have said, they are great talkers and orators. They are by no means an impulsive people; far less so than the Kenyahs or the Sea Dayaks. Although they are not a vivacious or talkative people in general intercourse, every undertaking of any importance is carefully discussed in all its aspects, often at what we should consider unnecessary length, before the first step is taken; and in such discussions each man likes to have his say, and each is heard out patiently by his fellows. They have a strong belief in the efficacy of words; this is illustrated by the copious flood of words which they pour out whenever they perform any religious or other rite.

In arguing or persuading, or even threatening, they rely largely on indirect appeals, on analogy, simile, and metaphor, flavoured with a good deal of humour of a rather heavy kind. Or they may convey a strong hint by describing a professed dream in which the circumstances under discussion are symbolised.

The following incident illustrates this mode of speech. Two Kayans quarrelled over the sale of a pig. The current price was a dollar a BUHAK (I.E. the span from finger-tip to thumb-tip, see vol. ii. p. 212). The buyer had insisted on measuring it by spans from thumb to tip of second finger, whereas the customary span is to the tip of the index finger. The case was brought before the chief, who of course might have contented himself, but not perhaps the purchaser, by authoritatively laying down the law of custom. He, therefore, being a man of tact and experience, thrust out his second finger and pointed it at the purchaser of the pig, saying, "Suppose any one pointed at you like that, instead of with the index finger; you would all laugh at him." All the people sitting round laughed, and the purchaser went away convinced of the propriety of using the index finger in measuring a pig.

To illustrate the way in which a chief may exert influence in matters in which he has no footing for the exercise of formal authority, we cite the following bit of history. It is an ancient custom of the Kayans to have in the house a very large LAMPIT (the mat made of parallel strips of rattan), the common property of the household, which is spread on the occasion of the reception of visitors to serve as a common scat for guests and hosts. The Kayans of the Baram, under the individualising influences of trade and increasing stocks of private property, neglected to renew these communal mats; and thus the good old custom was in danger of dying out. This was observed with regret by an influential chief, who, therefore, found an opportunity to relate in public the following story. "A party of Kayans," he said, "once came over from the Batang Kayan to visit their relatives in the Baram. The latter dilated upon the benefits of the Rajah's government, peace, trade, and the possibility of fine dress for themselves and their wives and of many other desirable acquisitions, all for the small annual payment of two dollars a door. The visitors looked about them and confessed that they still had to be content with bark clothing, bamboo cups, and wooden dishes; 'but,' they added, 'if you come to our house you will at least find on the floor a good LAMPIT on which we can all sit together.' " The story quickly went the round of the Kayan villages in the Baram, with the result that large LAMPITS quickly came back into general use and the good old custom was preserved.

The Kayans have a keen sense of humour and fun. As with ourselves, the most frequent occasions of laughter are the small mishaps that happen to one's companions or to oneself; and practical jokes are perpetrated and appreciated. For example, at the time when the wild pigs were dying in large numbers, a boat-load of Kayans working up-river encountered a succession of pigs' carcases floating down, most of them in a state of decomposition and swollen with gases. A practical joker at the bow conceived the notion of prodding the carcases with his spear and thus liberating the foul-smelling gases for the benefit of those who sat in the stern of the boat, to their great disgust and the amusement of those on the forward benches. Again — a Klemantan example — a chewer of betel-nut and lime sometimes prepares several quids wrapped carefully in SIRIH leaf, and sets them aside till they are required. On one occasion, while the crew of a boat landed to cook their dinner, a youngster carefully opened such a quid and substituted a piece of filth for the betel-nut. When the victim of the joke spat out the morsel, spluttering with disgust and anger, the crew was moved to loud laughter, which they tried in vain to suppress out of consideration for the feelings of the victim; for no one likes to be laughed at.

But, although the Kayans have a strong sense of the ridiculous, their laughter is not so violent and uncontrollable as that of Europeans is apt to be, and it is not so apt to recur from time to time at the mere recollection of an amusing incident.

We refer to some of the stories reproduced in Chapter XVII. as examples of the less crude forms of humour appreciated by the people. These stories are repeated again and again, without failing to amuse those who are perfectly familiar with them. AEsop's fables transposed into a Bornean key were, we found, much appreciated. In a large proportion of the entertaining stories of the Kayans, as well as of the other tribes, the point of the story depends on some reference to sexual relations or actions But such references are not, as a rule, coarsely put, but rather hinted at merely, often in a somewhat obscure way; E.G. such a story may terminate before the critical point is reached with some such phrase as "Well, well, what of it?" and a shrug of the shoulders.

The tendency of the Kayans to laconic speech is well illustrated by their way of referring to well-known stories or fables with one or two words, in order to sum up or characterise a situation — much as we say "sour grapes!"

Like all other varieties of mankind (some few savage tribes perhaps excepted), the Kayans and other tribes are apt to distort the truth in their own favour, in describing from memory incidents that seriously affect their interests. When a party has allowed itself to commit some reprehensible action, such as over-hasty and excessive reprisals, a whole village, or even several villages, may conspire together more or less deliberately to "rig up "some plausible version of the affair which may serve to excuse or justify the act in the eyes of the government. A good PENGHULU[188] will set about the investigation of such an affair with much tact and patience. He will send for those immediately concerned and patiently hear out their version of the incident. If it departs widely from the truth, he will find reason to suspect the fact. But, instead of charging the men with untruthfulness, or attempting to extort the truth by threats, or bullying, or torture (as is so often done in more highly civilised courts), he keeps silence, shrugs his shoulders, and tells them to go away and think it over, and to come back another day with a better story. In the meantime he hears the version of some other group, who view the affair from a different angle, and thus puts himself in a position to suggest modifications of the new version of the former group. When he has in this way gathered in a variety of accounts of the incident, he find himself in a position to construct, by a process of moral triangulation, an approximately correct picture; this he now lays before the party immediately concerned, who, seeing that the game is up, fill in the details and supply minor corrections. Throughout this process the tactful PENGHULU never shuts the door upon his informants or tries to pin them down to their words, or make them take them back; rather he keeps the whole story fluid and shifting, so that, when the true account has been constructed, the witnesses are not made to feel that they have lost their self-respect.

It seems worth while to describe here one of a large class of incidents which illustrate at the same time the workings of the native mind and the way in which an understanding of such workings may be applied by the administrator. The Resident of the Baram having heard of the presence in the central no-man's land of a considerable population of Kenyahs under a strong chief, TAMA KULING, sent friendly messages to the latter. He responded by sending a lump of white clay, which meant that he and his people recognised that they were of the same country as the people of the Baram and that their feelings were friendly; and with it came an elaborately decorated brass hook (Pl. 184), which was to serve as a complimentary and symbolical acknowledgment of the white man's power of binding the tribes together in friendship. He sent also a verbal message acknowledging his kinship with the Kenyahs of the Baram; but he added that he and his people were in the dark and needed a torch (I.E. they wanted more explicit information about the conditions obtaining in the Baram). In reply to these representations, the Resident despatched trusty messengers to TAMA KULING bearing the following articles: a large hurricane lamp for TAMA KULING, and smaller ones for the other principal chiefs of the district: smaller lamps again were sent for the heads of houses, and with them a large stock of boxes of lucifer matches, which were to be dealt out to the heads of the rooms of each house. In this way the desired torch was provided for every member of their communities. With these symbols went a large horn of the African rhinoceros, out of which TAMA KULING might fashion a hilt for his sword.[189]

We were afterwards informed that, on the arrival of these symbolic gifts, TAMA KULING called together the chiefs of all the surrounding villages to receive their share, and to discuss the advisability of accepting the implied invitation to migrate into the Baram. The proposition was favourably received, and a large proportion of the population of that region have since acted upon the resolution then taken.

To the disjointed collection of remarks which make up this chapter we venture to add the following observations. It has often been attempted to exhibit the mental life of savage peoples as profoundly different from our own; to assert that they act from motives, and reach conclusions by means of mental processes, so utterly different from our own motives and processes that we cannot hope to interpret or understand their behaviour unless we can first, by some impossible or at least by some hitherto undiscovered method, learn the nature of these mysterious motives and processes. These attempts have recently been renewed in influential quarters. If these views were applied to the savage peoples of the interior of Borneo, we should characterise them as fanciful delusions natural to the anthropologist who has spent all the days of his life in a stiff collar and a black coat upon the well-paved ways of civilised society.

We have no hesitation in saying that, the more intimately one becomes acquainted with these pagan tribes, the more fully one realises the close similarity of their mental processes to one's own. Their primary impulses and emotions seem to be in all respects like our own. It is true that they are very unlike the typical civilised man of some of the older philosophers, whose every action proceeded from a nice and logical calculation of the algebraic sum of pleasures and pains to be derived from alternative lines of conduct; but we ourselves are equally unlike that purely mythical personage. The Kayan or the Iban often acts impulsively in ways which by no means conduce to further his best interests or deeper purposes; but so do we also. He often reaches conclusions by processes that cannot be logically justified; but so do we also. He often holds, and upon successive occasions acts upon, beliefs that are logically inconsistent with one another; but so do we also.

CHAPTER 21

Ethnology of Borneo

In the foregoing chapters it has been shown that the six groups which we have distinguished by the names Kayans, Kenyahs, Klemantans, Muruts, Nomads or Punans, and Ibans or Sea Dayaks, differ considerably from one another in respect of material and moral culture as well as of mental and physical characters. We have used these names as though the groups denoted by them were well defined and easily to be distinguished from one another. But this is by no means the case. Our foregoing descriptions are intended to depict the typical communities of each group, those which present the largest number of group-marks. Besides these more typical communities, which constitute the main bulk of the population, there are many communities or sub-tribes which combine in some measure the characteristics of two or more of the principal groups. It is this fact that renders so extremely difficult the attempt to classify the tribes and sub-tribes in any consistent and significant fashion, and to which is largely due the confusion that reigns in most of the accounts hitherto given of the inhabitants of Borneo. We believe, however, that the divisions marked by the six names we have used, namely, Kayan, Kenyah, Klemantan, Murut, Punan, and Iban, are true or natural divisions; and that the intermediate forms are due, on the one hand, to crossing through intermarriage, which takes place continually in some degree, and, on the other hand, to the adoption of the customs and beliefs and traditions and to the imitation of the arts and crafts of one natural group by communities properly belonging to a different group. The main groups seem to us to be separated from one another by differences of two kinds: some by racial or ethnic differences, which involve differences of physical and mental constitution, as well as by cultural differences; others by differences of culture only, the racial characters being hardly or not at all differentiated.

We propose in this chapter to attempt to justify these main distinctions, and to define more nearly their essential nature and grounds. This attempt must involve the statement of our opinion as to the ethnic affinities of all the principal tribes. We are fully aware that this statement can be only of a provisional nature, and must be liable to modification and refinement in the light of further observation and discussion. But we think that such a statement may serve a useful purpose; namely, that it may serve as a basis upon which such corrections and refinements may later be made.

The most speculative part of this statement must necessarily be that which deals with the affinities of the tribes of Borneo with the populations of other areas; but even here we think it better to set down our opinion for what it may be worth, not concealing from the reader its slight basis. We state in the following paragraph the main features of the history of the tribes of Borneo as we conceive it.

The wide distribution of remnants of the Negrito race in the islands round about Borneo and in the adjacent parts of the mainland of Asia renders it highly probable that at a remote period Negritos lived in Borneo; but at the present time there exist no Negrito community and no distinct traces of the race, whether in the form of fossil remains or of physical characters of the present population, unless the curly hair and coarse features of a few individuals to be met with in almost all the tribes may be regarded as such traces. These negroid features of a small number of the present inhabitants are perhaps sufficiently accounted for by the fact that slaves have been imported into Borneo from time to time throughout many centuries by Arabs and Malays and by the Illanum pirates; and some of these slaves were no doubt Negritos, and some, possibly, Africans or Papuans.[190]

We leave open the question of an ancient Negrito population, and go on to the statement that the present population is derived from four principal sources. From a very early period the island has been inhabited in all parts by a people of a common origin whose surviving descendants are the tribes we have classed as Klemantans, Kenyahs, and Punans. This people probably inhabited Borneo at a time when it was still connected with the mainland. Their cultural status was probably very similar to that of the existing Punans. It seems not improbable that at this early period, perhaps one preceding the separation of Borneo, Sumatra, and Java from the mainland, this people was scattered over a large part of this area. For in several of the wilder parts, where the great forest areas remain untouched, bands of nomads closely resembling the Punans of Borneo are still to be found, notably the Orang Kubu of Sumatra, and perhaps the Bantiks of northern Celebes. The principal characteristics of this primitive culture are the absence of houses or any fixed abode; the ignorance of agriculture, of metal-working, and of boat-making; and the nomadic hunting life, of which the blow-pipe is the principal instrument. The chief and only important improvement effected in the condition of the Punans since that early period would seem to be the introduction of the superior form of blow-pipe of hard wood. This cannot be made without the use of a metal rod for boring, and, since none of the Bornean tribes which still lead the nomad life know how to work metals, it may be inferred that they have learnt the craft of making the SUMPITAN from more cultured neighbours, procuring from them by barter the iron tools required — as they still do.

It is impossible to make any confident assertion as to the affinities of this widely diffused people from which we believe the Punans, Kenyahs, and Klemantans to be descended. But the physical characters of these tribes, in respect of which they differ but slightly from one another, lead us to suppose that it was formed by a blending of Caucasic and Mongoloid elements, the features of the former predominating in the race thus formed. The fairness of the skin, the wavy and even, in some individuals, the curly character of the hair; the regular and comparatively refined features of many individuals; the frequent occurrence of straight and aquiline noses; the comparatively large, horizontal, or only slightly oblique, palpebral aperture; the not infrequent absence of all trace of the Mongolian fold of the eyelid and its slightness when present — all these characters point to the predominance of the Caucasic element in the ethnic blend.

On the other hand, the smooth yellowish skin, the long dark thick hair of the scalp, and the scantiness of the hair on the cheeks, chin, and lips; the rather broad cheek-bones, the prevailing slight obliquity of the eyes, the rather narrow palpebral aperture, and the presence of a slight Mongolian fold — these characters (all of which are found in a considerable proportion of these peoples) are features that point to Mongol ancestry.[191]

It was said above that the skin of these tribes is of very pale yellow colour. In this respect there is little to choose between them, but on the whole the Punans are of rather lighter colour than the others, and, as was said before, of a faintly green tinge. This difference is, we think, sufficiently accounted for by the fact that the Punan seldom or never exposes himself to full sunlight, whereas the others are habitually sun-browned in some degree. But the lighter colour of this whole group of tribes (as compared especially with the Kayans and Ibans) cannot be explained in this way; for the habits and conditions of life of Kenyahs and Klemantans are very closely similar to those of the Kayans; and it must, we think, be regarded as a racial character.

The name Indonesian is perhaps most properly applied to this people which we suppose to have resulted from the contact and blending of the Caucasic and Mongoloid stocks in this corner of Asia. The systematic ethnographers use this term in a vague and uncertain manner. Deniker defines the Indonesians by saying that they comprise "the little intermixed inland populations of the large islands (Dyaks of Borneo, Battas of Sumatra, various "Alfurus" of Celebes, and certain Moluccas)."[192] He seems doubtful whether the name Indonesian should be applied to the eight groups of aborigines of Indo-China which he distinguishes.[193] He recognises that the Indonesians and the Malayans are of very similar physical characters, but distinguishes them as two of four races which have given rise to the population of the Malay Archipelago — namely, Malayans, Indonesians, Negritos, and Papuans. He regards the Indonesians (used in a wide sense to include Malays) as most closely akin to the Polynesians; but he expresses no opinion as to their relations to the Mongol and Caucasic stocks.

Keane describes the Indonesians as a Proto-Caucasic race which must have occupied Malaysia and the Philippines in the New Stone Age. He separates them widely from the Malays and Proto-Malays, whom he describes as belonging to the Oceanic branch of the Mongol stock;[194] and the "Dyaks" of Borneo are classed by him with strict impartiality sometimes with the Proto-Malays, sometimes with the Proto-Caucasians.

If these oldest inhabitants of Borneo may be regarded as typical Indonesians (and we think that they have a strong claim to be so regarded), then we think that the usage of the term by both Keane and Deniker errs in accentuating unduly the affinity of the Indonesians with the Polynesians, and that Keane's errs also in ignoring the Mongol affinities of the Indonesians.

The most plausible view of the relations of these stocks seems to us to be the following. Polynesians and Indonesians are the product of an ancient blend of southern Mongols with a fair Caucasic stock. In both the Caucasic element predominates, but more so in the Polynesian than in the Indonesian. We imagine this blending to have been effected at a remote period in the south-eastern corner of Asia, probably before the date at which Borneo became separated from the mainland. If, as seems probable, this blending was effected by the infusion of successive doses of Mongol blood from the north into a Caucasic population that had previously diffused itself over this corner of Asia from the west,[195] the smaller proportion of the Mongol element in the Polynesians may be due to their having passed into the islands, while the Indonesians remained on the continent receiving further infusions of Mongol blood.

The separation of Borneo from the mainland then isolated part of the Indonesian stock within it, at a period when their culture was still in a very primitive condition, presumably similar to that of the Punans. The Proto-Malays, on the other hand, represent a blending of the Mongol stock (or of a part of the Indonesian race) with darker stock allied to the Dravidians of India, which is perhaps properly called Proto-Dravidian, and of which the Sakai of the Malay peninsula (and, perhaps, the Toala of central Celebes) seem to be the surviving representatives in Malaysia. In this blend, which presumably was effected in an area south of that in which the Indonesian blend was formed, the Mongol element seems to predominate.

After the separation of Borneo from the mainland, there came a long period throughout which it remained an isolated area, the population of which received no important accessions from other areas. It is probable that during this period the Indonesian population of the mainland continued to receive further infusions of Mongol blood; for there is abundant evidence that for a long time past there has been a drifting of Mongol peoples, such as the Shans, southwards from China into the Indo-Chinese area.

We may suppose that during this period the knowledge and practice of working iron, of building long houses and boats, and of cultivating PADI, became diffused through the greater part of the population of this corner of the Asiatic continent. This advance of culture would have rendered possible the passage of these peoples to the islands in boats. But it seems probable that no considerable incursion of people from this area was effected until a comparatively recent date.

In Chapter II. we have mentioned the evidences of Hindu-Javan influence on Borneo, to which must be ascribed the existence of the Buddhist court at Bruni before the coming of the Malays, as well as traces of Hindu culture in south Borneo, including the practice of cremation by the Land Dayaks, the burning of the bones by other tribes, stone carvings,[196] and articles of gold and fragments of pottery of Hindu character. There must have been a certain infusion of Javanese and perhaps Hindu blood at this time; but both in physical type and in culture the surviving traces seem to be insignificant.

We have mentioned also in Chapter II. the early intercourse between China and the Buddhist rulers of Bruni and other parts of north and northwest Borneo, and the legend of an early settlement of Chinese in the extreme north.

But these civilised or semi-civilised visitors and settlers were separated from the indigenous Borneans by a great culture gap, and they probably had but little friendly intercourse with them and affected their culture but little, if at all; and though it is possible that they bartered salt, metal, tools, and weapons, for camphor and other jungle produce, their influence, like that of the Malays, probably extended but a little way from the coasts in most parts of the island. The higher culture of the indigenous tribes of the interior has been introduced, we believe, by invasions of peoples less widely separated from them in cultural level, who have penetrated far into the interior and have mingled intimately with them. Three such invasions may be distinguished as of principal importance: that of the Kayans in the south and perhaps in the south-east, of the Muruts in the north, and of the Ibans in the south-west. Each of these three invading populations has spread up the course of the rivers to the interior and has established its communities over large areas, until in the course of the nineteenth century they have encountered one another for the first time. Besides these three most numerous and important invasions, there have been many smaller settlements from the surrounding islands, especially from Java, Celebes, and the Philippines, whose blood and culture have still further diversified the population and culture of the tribes of Borneo and complicated the ethnographical problems of the island.

Of the three principal invasions, that of the Kayans has been of most effect in spreading a higher culture among the indigenous population.

There is good reason to believe that the Kayans have spread across Borneo from the south and south-eastern parts, following up the course of the large rivers until they reached USUN APO, the central highlands, in which (see vol. i. p. 2) all the large rivers have their sources. The tradition of such north-westward migration is preserved among the Kayans of the Baram, who, according to their own account, crossed the watershed into the basins of the western rivers only a few generations ago. This tradition is in accordance with the fact that, within the memory of men still living, they have spread their villages farther westward along the banks of the Baram and the Rejang rivers, driving back the Muruts northwards from the Baram. It is borne out by the accounts of the Bruni Malays to the effect that the Brunis first became acquainted with the Kayans some few generations ago, and had known the Muruts long before the advent of the Kayans; and further, by the fact that the Kayans have left their name attached to many rivers both in the south and east, where the name Batang Kayan (or Kayan River) is the common appellation of several rivers on which Kayan villages are now very few.

The Kayans seem to have entered Borneo by way of the rivers opening on the south coast, and gradually to have penetrated to the central highlands by following up these rivers, pushing out communities every few years to build new villages higher up the river in the course of their unceasing search for new areas adapted to their wasteful farming operations.

There can, we think, be little doubt that the Kayans are the descendants of emigrants from the mainland, and that they brought with them thence all or most of the characteristic culture that we have described. But from what part exactly of the mainland, and by what route, they have come, and how long a time was occupied by the migration, are questions in answer to which we cannot do more than throw out some vague suggestions.

We believe that the Kayans migrated to Borneo from the basin of the Irrawadi by way of Tenasserim, the Malay Peninsula, and Sumatra; and that they represent a part of the Indonesian stock which had remained in the basin of the Irrawadi and adjacent rivers from the time of the separation of Borneo, there, through contact with the southward drift of peoples from China, receiving fresh infusions of Mongol blood; a part, therefore, of the Indonesians which is more Mongoloid in character than that part which at a remote period was shut up in Borneo by its separation from the mainland. During this long period the Kayans acquired or developed the type of culture characterised by the cultivation of PADI on land newly cleared of jungle by burning, the building of long houses on the banks of rivers, the use of boats, and the working of iron.

The way in which in Borneo the Kayans hang together and keep touch with one another, even though scattered through districts in which numerous communities of other tribes are settled, preserving their characteristic culture with extreme faithfulness, lends colour to the supposition that the whole tribe may thus have been displaced step by step, passing on from one region and from one island to another without leaving behind any part of the tribe. The passage of the straits between the Peninsula and Sumatra, and between Sumatra and Borneo, are the parts of this tribal migration that are the most difficult to imagine. But we know that Kayans do not fear to put out to sea in their long war-boats. We have known Kayan boats to descend the Baram River and to follow the coast up to Bruni; and we have trustworthy accounts of such expeditions having been made in former days by large war parties in order to fight in the service of the Sultan of Bruni. The distance from the Baram mouth to Bruni (about 100 miles) is nearly equal to the width of the broadest stretch of water they must have crossed in order to have reached Borneo from the mainland by way of Sumatra. This hypothetical history of the immigration of the Kayans receives some support from the fact that a vague tradition of having crossed the sea still persists among them. We attach some importance to this Kayan tradition of their having come over the sea, as evidence that they are comparatively recent immigrants to Borneo; but the principal grounds on which we venture to suggest this history of the Kayans and of their invasion of Borneo are three: first, the affinities of the Kayans in respect of physical character and culture to certain tribes still existing in the area from which we believe them to have come; secondly, historical facts which go far to explain such a migration; thirdly, their relations to other tribes of Borneo. We add a few words under each of these heads.

I. As long ago as the year 1850, J. R. Logan, writing of highland tribes of the basins of the Koladan and Irrawadi and the south-eastern part of the Brahmaputra, asserted that "the habits of these tribes have a wonderful resemblance to those of the inland lank-haired races of Indonesia… . There is hardly a minute trait in the legends, superstitions, customs, habits, and arts of these tribes, and the adjacent highlanders of the remainder of the Brahmaputra basin, that is not also characteristic of some of the ruder lank-haired tribes of Sumatra, Borneo, the Philippines, Celebes, Ceram, and the trans-Javan islands."[197]

This assertion, though, no doubt, rather too sweeping, seems to have a large basis in fact, so far as it concerns the tribes of Borneo.

We have not been able to find that any one tribe of this part of the mainland agrees closely with the Kayans in respect of physical characters and all important cultural features. Nevertheless, very many of the features of the Kayan culture are described as occurring amongst one or another tribe, though commonly with some considerable differences in detail. In attempting to identify the nearest relatives of the Kayans among the mainland tribes, it has to be remembered that all these have been subjected to much disturbance, in some cases, no doubt, involving changes of habitat, since the date at which, as we suppose, the Kayans left the continent. And since the Kayans, from the time of their arrival in Borneo, have played the part of a dominating and conquering people among tribes of lower culture, and have imposed their customs upon these other tribes, without blending with them or accepting from them any important cultural elements, it follows that we must regard the Kayans as having preserved, more faithfully than their relatives of the mainland, the culture which presumably they had in common with them a thousand years or more ago.

Of all the peoples of the south-eastern corner of the continent, the one which seems to us most closely akin to the Kayans is that which comprises the several tribes of the Karens.[198] These have been regarded by many authors (3) as the indigenous people of Burma. Their own traditions tell of their coming from the north across a great river of sand and of having been driven out of the basin of the Irrawadi at a later date (1). At present the Karens are found chiefly in the Karen hills of Lower Burma between the Irrawadi and the Salween and in the basin of the Sittang River, which runs southwards midway between those two greater rivers to open into the head of the Gulf of Martaban. But they have been much oppressed by their more civilised neighbours, the Burmese and the Shans, and their communities are widely scattered in the remoter parts of the country and are said to extend into Tenasserim far down the Malay Peninsula. By the Burmese they are called also KAYENS or KYENS, the Y and R sounds being interchangeable in Burmese (1 and 3).

Peoples generally recognised as closely akin to the KARENS are the CHINS (who are also known as Khyens) (14) of the basin of the Chindwin, the large western tributary of the Irrawadi; and the KAKHYENS (also called KACHINGS and SINGPHO), who occupy the hills east of Bhamo and the basin of the river Tapang in the borderlands of Burma and Yunnan (7). The Nagas of Manipur and of the Naga Hills of Assam also seem to belong to the same group of peoples, though less closely akin to the Karens than the Chins and the Kakhyens.

It seems highly probable that all these, together with the Kayans, are surviving branches of a people which occupied a large area of south-eastern Asia, more especially the basin of the Irrawadi, for a considerable period before the first of the successive invasions which have given rise to the existing Burmese and Shan nations. The physical characters of all of them are consistent with the view taken above, namely, that they represent the original Indonesian population of which the Klemantans of Borneo are the pure type, modified by later infusions of Mongol blood. In all these occur individuals who are described as being of almost purely Caucasic type and very light in colour.

Three principal tribes of Karens are distinguished, the Sgan, Pwo, and Bwe. Of these the Bwe are also known as the Hill-Karens and seem to have preserved their own culture more completely than the others, though the Sgan are said to be the purest in blood, the lightest in colour, and more distinctive in type than any other of the tribes of south-eastern Asia (4). Of the Hill-Karens, Mason said, "Some would be pronounced European. Indeed, if not exposed to the sun, some of them would be as fair, I think, as many of the inhabitants of northern Europe." Yet the commoner type of Karen is said to show distinctly Mongoloid facial characters. Of those Karens who have been least affected by their more cultured neighbours, we are told that they live in small communities, each of which is governed by a patriarch who is at once high priest and judge, and who punishes chiefly by the infliction of fines. He raises no regular tax, but receives contributions in kind towards the expenses of entertainment (3). Several communities join together, sometimes under a leading chief, in order to meet a common foe (3). They build long houses in which a whole community of as many as 400 persons dwell together (4). These houses are described as of Himalayic type. "It (the house) is made by sinking posts of large size firmly in the ground and inserting beams or joists through the posts eight feet from the ground, and on these laying the floor with slats of bamboo." The walls and partitions are mats of woven bamboo, and the roof is thatched with palm leaves (4). This very incomplete description leaves it open to suppose that the Karen house is very similar to that built by the Kayans when for any reason the latter build in hasty and temporary fashion. But the still more scanty description of another writer (3) implies that the arrangement of the interior of the house is unlike that characteristic of the Kayans. They frequently migrate to new sites.

The Karens cultivate PADI and prepare the jungle land for cultivation by burning down the forest. They prepare from rice a spirit to which they are much addicted. The hill tribes are truculent warriors and head-hunters. Captives are made slaves. They use and make spears and axes, and a cross-bow[199] with poisoned arrows. They rear pigs and poultry, and train dogs to the chase. The men eradicate their beards. They wear many small rings on the forearms and legs. The lobes of the ear are perforated and often enormously distended (3).

They address prayers and supplications for protection and prosperity to a Supreme Being whom they address as "Lord of the heavens and earth" (5). They believe also in a multitude of nature spirits, most of whom are harmful. The fear of them occasions many ceremonial acts. The taking of heads is said to be a means of propitiating these spirits (3). They believe that during sickness the soul departs from the body; and the medicine-man attempts to arrest it and to bring it back to the body of the patient. In this and other rites the blood of fowls (which they are said to venerate) (2) is smeared on the participants. Divination by means of the bones of fowls and the viscera, especially the liver of the pig, is in common use (5). The souls of the dead go to a place in which they live much as in this world. It is called ABU LAGAN[200] (3). In this abode of shades everything is upside down and all directions are inverted (5). There are no rewards and punishments after death (3). Parents take the names of father and mother of So-and-so — the name of their first child. The knife with which the navel cord is cut at birth is carefully preserved (5). Finally, the Karens are said to be distinguished by a lack of humour, a trait which is well marked also in the Kayans.

In respect of all the characters and culture elements mentioned above, the Karens resemble the Kayans very closely. Against these we have to set off a few customs mentioned by our authorities in which they differ from the Kayans.

The Karens eat everything except members of the cat tribe. They bury the bodies of the dead after they have lain in state some three or four days; and they hold an annual feast for the dead at the August new moon. They ascribe two souls to man, one of a kind which is possessed also by animals, tools, weapons, the rice, and one which is the responsible soul peculiar to man.[201]

The bride is taken to the house of the bridegroom's father. Only one tribe, namely, the Red Karens, practises tatu, and among them a figure which seems to represent the rising sun is tatued on the back of the men only (5). They weave a coarse cloth.

These differences are not very great, and their significance is diminished by the following considerations. The Kayans may have acquired their aversion to killing the dog through contact with Malays. They bury the dead in the ground in the case of poor persons or those dead of epidemic disease. And they have a tradition that they formerly practised the weaving of cloth. They may also have acquired the art of making and using the solid wooden blow-pipe from Malays; and this would account for their having given up the use of the bow and arrow as a serious weapon. On the other hand, the inferior houses of the Karens, the lack of restrictions among them upon animal foods, their earth burial — all these may well be due to decay of custom among an oppressed people; and the fact that they seem to make but little use of boats may well be due to their having been driven away from the main rivers and pushed into the hills. We have little doubt that many more points of resemblance would be discoverable, if we had any full account of the Karens as they were before their culture was largely affected by contact with Burmese and Shans and by the influence of the missionaries who have taught so successfully among them for more than sixty years.

Among the elements of Kayan culture which are lacking or but feebly represented among the Karens, some are reported among the tribes most nearly allied to the Karens, and others among other peoples of the same area.

Thus the peculiar Kayan custom of tatuing the thighs of women has a close parallel in the tatuing of the thighs of men among all Burmese and Shans; and the Kayans may well have adopted the practice from them. Among the Shans there obtains the custom of placing the coffin on upright timbers at some height above the ground (9). Among the Nagas, and especially the Kuki Nagas,[202] who are said to be most nearly allied to the Karens, beside a number of the culture elements which we have noticed above as common to Karens and Kayans, other noteworthy points of resemblance to the Kayans are the following: A system of tabu or GENNA which may affect individuals or whole villages, and is very similar to the MALAN of the Kayans; the practice of ornamenting houses with heads of enemies, the motive of taking the head being to provide a slave in Hades for a deceased chief; the use of human and other hair in decorating weapons.[203]

Their method of attacking a village is like that of the Kayans, namely, to surround it in the night and to rush it at dawn; they obstruct the approach of an enemy to their village by planting in the ground short pieces of bamboo sharpened and fire-hardened at both ends; they use an oblong wooden shield or a rounded shield of plaited cane; their blacksmiths use a bellows very like that of the Kayan smiths; they husk their PADI in a solid wooden mortar with a big pestle A LA Kayan; they floor their houses with similar massive planks; they catch fish in nets and traps, and by poisoning the water; men pierce the shell of the ear in various ways; omens are read from the viscera of pigs, and the cries of some birds are unlucky; they worship a Supreme Deity and a number of minor gods, E.G. gods of rain and of harvest; they often sacrifice pigs and fowls to the gods, and omens are always read from the slaughtered animals; those who die in battle and in childbirth are assigned to special regions of the other world; the women are tatued (on chest) to facilitate recognition in Hades; in felling the jungle preparatory to burning it to make a PADI farm, they always leave at least one tree standing for the accommodation of the spirits of the place.

Other of the instruments, arts, and customs of the Kayans are found widely spread in south-eastern Asia. Such are the small axe or adze with lashed head; the musical instrument of gourd and bamboo pipes with reeds; the bamboo guitar; the use of old beads and of hornbill feathers for personal adornment; the making of fire by friction of a strip of rattan across a block of wood.

II. Whether this people, of whom the Kayans, Karens, Chins, Kakhyens, and Nagas, seem to be the principal surviving branches, came into the Irrawadi basin and adjacent areas by migration from Central Asia by way of the Brahmaputra valley, as Cross and McMahon (accepting the tradition of the Karens) believe, or came, as Logan suggested, eastward from Bengal, it seems certain that it has been divided into fragments, driven away from the main rivers, and in the main pushed southwards by successive swarms of migration from the north. This pressure from the north seems to have driven some of the Karens down into the Malay Peninsula, where they are still found; and it may well be that, before the rise of the Malays as an aggressive people under Arab leadership, the ancestors of the Kayans occupied parts of the peninsula farther south than the Karens now extend, and possibly also parts of Sumatra. If this was the case, it was inevitable that, with the rise to dominance of the Mohammedan Malays in this region, the Kayans must have been either driven out, exterminated, or converted to Islam and absorbed. It seems probable that different communities of them suffered these three different fates.

The supposition that the Kayans represent a part of such a population, which was driven on by the pressure of Malays to seek a new country in which to practise its extravagant system of PADI culture, is in harmony with the probability as to the date of their immigration to the southern rivers of Borneo; for the rise and expansion of the Menangkabau Malays began in the middle of the twelfth century A.D.; and the Kayans may well have entered Borneo some 700 years ago.

III. We have now to summarise the evidence in favour of the view that the Kayans have imparted to the Kenyahs and many of the Klemantan tribes the principal elements of the peculiar culture which they now have in common.

We have shown that the culture of the Kenyah and Klemantan tribes is in the main very similar to that of the Kayans, and that it differs chiefly in lacking some of its more advanced features, in having less sharply defined outlines, in its greater variability from one community to another, and in the less strict observance of custom. Thus the Kayans in general live in larger communities, each of their villages generally consisting of several long houses; whereas a single long house generally constitutes the whole of a Kenyah or Klemantan village. The Kayans excel in iron-working, in PADI culture, in boat-making, and in house-building. Their customs and beliefs are more elaborated, more definite, more uniform, and more strictly observed. Their social grades are more clearly marked. They hang together more strongly, with a stronger tribal sentiment, and, while the distinction between them and other tribes is everywhere clearly marked and recognised both by themselves and others, the Klemantans and Kenyahs everywhere shade off into one another and into Punans.

The process of conversion of Punans into settled communities that assimilate more or less fully the Kayan culture is still going on. We are acquainted with settled communities which still admit their Punan origin; and these exhibit very various grades of assimilation of the Kayan culture. Some, which in the lives of the older men were still nomadic, still build very poor houses and boats, cultivate PADI very imperfectly, and generally exhibit the Kayan culture in a very imperfect state.

On the other hand, the Kenyahs have assimilated the Kayan culture more perfectly than any other of the aborigines, and in some respects, such as the building of houses, they perhaps equal the Kayans; but even they have not learnt to cultivate PADI in so thorough a manner as to keep themselves supplied with rice all through the year, as the Kayans do; and, like the various Klemantan tribes,[204] they suffer almost every year periods of scarcity during which they rely chiefly on cultivated and wild sago and on tapioca. The Kayans, on the other hand, grow sufficient PADI to last through the year, except in very bad seasons, and they never collect or cultivate sago. The view that this relative imperfection of the agriculture of the Kenyahs and Klemantans is due to the recency of their adoption of the practice, is confirmed by the fact that many of them still preserve the tradition of the time when they cultivated no PADI. It seems that most of the present Kenyahs first began to plant PADI not more than two, or at most three, centuries ago. Some of the Kenyahs also preserve the tradition of a time when they constructed their houses mainly of bamboo; this was probably their practice for some few generations after they began to acquire the Kayan culture. At the present day those Punans who have only recently taken to the settled mode of life generally make large use of the bamboo in building their small and relatively fragile houses.

The view that the Kayans have played this large civilising role is supported by the fact that Kayan is the language most widely understood in the interior, and that it is largely used for intercommunication, even between members of widely separated Kenyah communities whose dialects have diverged so widely that their own language no longer forms a medium of communication between them; whereas the Kayans themselves do not trouble to acquire familiarity with the Kenyah or Klemantan languages.

If both Kenyahs and Klemantans represent sections of the aboriginal population of nomadic hunters who have absorbed Kayan culture, it remains to account for the existence of those peculiarities of the Kenyahs that have led us to separate them from the tribes which we have classed together as Klemantans. The peculiarities that distinguish Kenyahs from Klemantans are chiefly personal characteristics, notably the bodily build (relatively short limbs and massive trunks), the more lively and energetic temperament, the more generous and expansive and pugnacious disposition. These peculiarities may, we think, be accounted for by the supposition that the aborigines from whom the Kenyahs descend had long occupied the central highlands where most of the Kenyah communities still dwell and which they all regard as the homeland and headquarters of their race.

Of the Klemantan tribes some, E.G. the Aki, the Long Patas, and the Long Akars, resemble more nearly the Kayans; others, E.G. the Muriks, the Sebops, the Lirongs, the Uma Longs, the Pengs or Pinihings, show more affinity with the Kenyahs. It seems probable that these diversities have resulted from the assimilation of culture directly from the Kayans by the one group and from the Kenyahs by the other. A third group of Klemantan tribes such as the Long Kiputs, the Batu Blah, and the Trings, scattered through the northern part of the island, resemble more nearly the Muruts; and among these are found communities whose culture marks them as descendants of nomads who have assimilated the Murut culture in various degrees.

The Muruts

The Muruts differ somewhat as regards physical features from all the other tribes, especially in having coarser but less Mongoloid features, a longer skull, and a more lanky build of body and limbs. Their intonation is nasal, and the colour of the skin slightly darker and ruddier than that of the Klemantans.

Their culture differs so much as to lead us to suppose that it had a somewhat different origin from that of the Kayans. They build long houses; but these are comparatively flimsy structures, and they are often situated at a distance from any navigable stream. Even those Muruts who live on the river-banks make much less use of boats than the other tribes, and all of them are great walkers. They have very little skill in boat-making. Their most distinctive peculiarity is their system of agriculture (see vol. i. p. 97), which involves irrigation, the use of buffalo, the raising of two crops a year, and the repeated use in successive years of the same land. Other distinctive features are their peculiar long sword and short spear; the absence of any axe and blow-pipe; the custom according to which the women propose marriage to the men (Kalabits).

In the Philippine Islands a system of agriculture similar to that of the Muruts is widely practised; and some of the tribes, though their culture has been largely influenced by Spanish civilisation, seem to be of the same stock as the Muruts; thus the Tagals of Borneo are not improbably a section of the people known as Tagalas in the Philippines, and the Bisayas of Borneo probably bear the same relation to the Visayas of the Philippines.

It seems probable, therefore, that this type of culture has been carried into the north of Borneo by immigrants from the Philippines, whither it was introduced at a remote period, possibly from Annam, the nearest part of the mainland; or possibly it came to Borneo directly from Annam.[205] It is probable that many of the tribes which we have classed with the Muruts, on account of their possession of the Murut culture, are, like the Klemantans and Kenyahs, descendants of the ancient Indonesian population who have adopted the culture of more advanced immigrants. The descendants of the immigrants who introduced this type of culture are, we think, the Muruts proper, who claim that name and dwell chiefly in the Trusan, the Padas, the Sembakong, the Kerayan rivers, and in the head of the Kinabatangan; also the Kalabits in the northern part of the upper basin of the Baram. It is these which display most decidedly the physical peculiarities noted above.

As examples of Klemantan tribes that have partially adopted the Murut culture we would mention the LONG KIPUTS, the BATU BLAHS, the TRINGS, and the ADANGS in the head of the Limbang River; to the same group belong the KADAYANS in the neighbourhood of Bruni, who, from contact with their Malay neighbours, have become in large part Mohammedans of Malay culture.

The Ibans (Sea Dayaks)

The Ibans stand distinctly apart from all the other tribes, both by reason of their physical and mental peculiarities and of the many differences of their culture; we have little doubt that they are the descendants of immigrants who came into the south-western corner of Borneo at no distant date. We regard them as Proto-Malays, that is to say, as of the stock from which the true Malays of Sumatra and the Peninsula were differentiated by the influence of Arab culture. A large number of the ancestors of the present Ibans were probably brought to Borneo from Sumatra less than two hundred years ago. Some two centuries ago, a number of Malay nobles were authorised by the Sultan of Bruni to govern the five rivers of Sarawak proper, namely, the Samarahan, the Sadong, the Batang Lupar, the Saribas, and the Klaka rivers. These Malays were pirate leaders, and they were glad to enrol large numbers of pagan fighting men among their followers; for the latter were glad to do most of the hard work, claiming the heads of the pirates' victims as their principal remuneration, while the Malays retained that part of the booty which had a marketable value. These Malay leaders found, no doubt, that their pagan relatives of Sumatra lent themselves more readily to this service than the less warlike Klemantans of Borneo, and therefore, as we suppose, they brought over considerable numbers of them and settled them about the mouths of these rivers. The co-operation between the piratical Malay Tuankus and the descendants of their imported PROTEGES continued up to the time of the suppression of piracy by the British and Dutch half a century ago. It was from this association with the sea and with coast-pirates that the Ibans became known as the Sea Dayaks by Sir James Brooke; and to this encouragement of their head-hunting proclivity by the Malays is no doubt due their peculiarly ruthless and bloodthirsty devotion to it as to a pastime, rather than (as with the Kayans and other tribes) as to a ceremonial duty occasionally imposed upon them by the death of a chief.

It seems to us probable that the greater part of the ancestors of the Ibans entered Borneo in this way. But there is reason to think that some of them had settled at an earlier date in this part of Borneo and rather farther southward on the Kapuas River. The BUGAUS, KANTUS, and DAUS, who dwell along the southern border of Sarawak, and some other Iban tribes in the northern basin of the Kapuas River, are probably descendants of these earlier immigrants of Proto-Malay stock. In most respects they closely resemble the other Iban tribes, but they are distinguished by some peculiarities of language and accent; their manners are gentler, their bearing less swaggering; they are less given to wandering, and they have little skill in the making and handling of boats. These are recognised by themselves and by other Ibans as belonging to the same people; but they are a little looked down upon by Ibans of the other tribes as any home-staying rural population is looked down upon by travelled cosmopolitans.

This conjectural history of the immigration of the Ibans explains the peculiar fact that, although all the Ibans of all parts are easily distinguishable from all the other peoples, and although they all recognise one another as belonging to the same people, they have no common name for the whole group. They commonly speak of KAMI MENOA (I.E. "we of this country") when they refer to their people as a whole; and the Kayan designation of them as IVAN (immigrant or wanderer) has been adopted by large numbers of them in recent years and modified into Iban, so that the expression KAMI IBAN is now frequently used by them.

The identification of the Iban with a Proto-Malay stock is justified by their language and physical characteristics. The former seems to be the language from which Malay has been formed under Arab influence and culture. It employs many words which are no longer current in Malay, but which, as is shown by Marsden's MALAY DICTIONARY, were in use among Sumatran Malays in the eighteenth century.

Since the Mohammedan populations which now are called Malay are of mixed origin, they present no very well-defined or uniform physical type. But of all Malays those of Sumatra and of the Peninsula are generally recognised as presenting the type in its greatest purity; and it is this type which the Ibans most closely reproduce. The near resemblance of facial type between the Malays and the Ibans is apt to be obscured for the casual visitor by the fact that the Iban puts little or no restraint upon his expressions and is constantly chattering, laughing, and smiling; whereas the Malay is taught from childhood to restrain his expressions and to preserve a severe and grave demeanour in the presence of strangers. But in private the Malay relaxes, and then the resemblance appears more clearly.

The principal features of the Iban's culture which distinguish it from that of the other tribes may be enumerated here. The Iban closely resembles the Kayan in his method of cultivating PADI, but he is even more careful and skilful, and generally secures a surplus. His house differs characteristically from those of the Kayan type, and resembles the long houses still inhabited by some Sumatran Malays, in being comparatively small, and in having a framework of many light poles rather than of heavy hardwood timbers, and a floor of split bamboo in place of huge planks. In methods of weaving and dyeing cloth and in the character of the cloths produced;[206] in the wearing of ornamental head-cloths; in the weaving of mats and baskets with the PANDANUS leaf and a large rush known as BUMBAN rather than with strips of split rattan; in their methods of trapping and netting fish; in the character of the sword and axe and shield as formerly used;[207] in the use of the fire-piston;[208] in musical instruments and methods; in the custom of earth burial; in the visiting and making of offerings at the graves of noted men in the hope of supernatural aid, — in all these respects the Iban culture differs from that of the Kayans, and closely resembles that of the Malays.

The Iban culture presents also certain features not common to other peoples of Borneo and not found among the Malays; and all or most are such as must have been exterminated among the Malays on their conversion to Islam, if they had formed part of their culture in their pre-Islamic period. Such are the religious beliefs and customs of the Ibans with the cult of the PETARA; the NGARONG; the rite with the clay crocodile for getting rid of farm pests (vol. ii. p. 88); the use in weaving of a number of designs of animal origin; the adornment of the edge of the ear with many brass rings; the lack of any strict avoidance of killing dogs.

Thirdly, of the features of Iban culture which are common to them and to the other tribes of Borneo, many seem to have been borrowed by them from their neighbours, and often in an incomplete or imperfect manner; such are the system of omenreading, the ritual slaughter of fowls and pigs, much of their dancing and tatuing, the PARANG ILANG and wooden shield, the feathered war-coat of skin, the KELURI or small bag-pipe, and the fashion of wearing their hair, — all these seem to have been borrowed from the Kayans; the woman's corset of brassbound hoops, from the Malohs; the mat worn posteriorly for sitting upon, from the Kenyahs.[209]

Besides the three great invasions of foreign blood and foreign culture, those borne by the Kayans, the Muruts, and the Ibans respectively, there have been numerous minor invasions on all sides. In the following paragraphs we make mention of those that seem to have been of most importance in modifying the population and the culture of Borneo.

In the south there are traces of Javanese culture with its Hindu elements among many of the tribes, but especially among the Land Dayaks who occupy the southern extremity of Sarawak. These cremate their dead; they set apart a separate round house for the trophies of human heads, and in this the bachelors are expected to pass the nights. The Malawis of South-East Borneo seem to be similar in many respects to the Land Dayaks of Sarawak. The Land Dayaks have a reputation in Upper Sarawak for quicker intelligence and more adaptability than the other tribes, and hence are in much request for services of the most various kinds. It is an interesting question whether this may be due to a dash of Hindu blood; the facial type and the more abundant growth of hair on the face would support an affirmative answer.

The Malohs are a well-marked tribe found on the Kalis and Mandai rivers, tributaries of the Kapuas River. Physically they are marked by exceptionally long narrow heads (index about 76). They speak a language very different from those of the central and northern parts of the island, but speak also the Iban language with a peculiar accent. The Malohs alone of all the peoples of Borneo eat the flesh of the crocodile. The most distinctive feature of their culture is their skill and industry in brass working. Malohs supply a large proportion of all the brass-ware to be found in the interior. This addiction to brass-working suggests that they represent an immigration from Java, which has long enjoyed a great reputation for its brass-ware and an extensive market throughout the islands.

On the east coast are many communities of Bugis, who are mostly Mohammedans and seem to have come from Celebes, where they are a numerous people.

In the north and extreme north-west the Dusuns seem to be of Murut stock with an infusion of Chinese blood and culture. They use a plough drawn by buffalo in the PADI fields, which they irrigate systematically.

Round about the northern coasts are to be found many small bands of Lanuns and Bajaus, living largely in boats. They are mostly Mohammedans, and descend from the notorious piratical communities whose headquarters were in the Sulu Islands and other islands off the north-east coast.

In the foregoing pages we have said very little about the languages spoken by the tribes of Borneo. Although one of us has a practical command of the Kayan, Kenyah, Sea Dayak, and Malay languages, and a tolerably intimate acquaintance with a number of the Klemantan dialects, we do not venture upon the task of discussing their systematic positions and relations to languages of other areas. For this would be a task of extreme difficulty and complexity which only an accomplished linguistic scholar could profitably undertake. Nevertheless, we think it worth while to add a few words regarding the bearing of the languages on the foregoing ethnological discussion. It seems clear that in the main the differences and affinities between the many languages and dialects spoken by the pagan tribes bear out, so far as they are known to us, the principal conclusions of our argument. The Sea Dayak or Iban tongue stands distinctly apart from all the rest, and is indisputably very closely allied to the Malay. The Kenyahs, Klemantans, and Punans speak a great variety of tongues, which are, however, so closely similar, and the extreme members of which are connected by so many intermediate forms, that it would seem they may properly be regarded as but dialects of one language. The Kayan language, on the other hand, stands apart from both the Iban and the Klemantan languages, but is much nearer to the latter than the former. The Kenyah dialects especially contain many words or roots that appear also in the Kayan, and seem to be more closely allied to it than is any of the Klemantan tongues. This may well be due to the more intimate contact with the Kayans enjoyed by the Kenyahs, who, as we have seen, have assimilated the Kayan culture more completely than any other of the indigenous tribes, and who may well have taken up many Kayan words together with other culture elements.

The Murut languages again seem to stand apart from the Iban, Kayan, and Kenyah-Klemantan, as a distinct group whose vocabulary has little in common with those others.[210]

In conclusion, we venture to make a suggestion which we admit to be widely speculative and by which we wish only to draw attention to a remote possibility which, if further evidence in its favour should be discovered, would be one of great interest. We have throughout maintained the view, now adopted by many others, of which Professor Keane has been the principal exponent, namely, the view that the Indonesian stock was largely, probably predominantly, of Caucasic origin. In our chapter on animistic beliefs concerning animals and plants, and in the chapter on religion, we have shown that the Kayans believe in a multiplicity of anthropomorphic deities which, with Lake Tenangan at the head of a galaxy of subordinate gods and goddesses presiding over special departments of nature, strangely resembles the group of divine beings who, in the imagination of the fathers of European culture, dwelt in Olympus. And we have shown that the system of divination practised by the Kayans (the taking of omens from the flight and cries of birds, and the system of augury by the entrails of sacrificial victims) strangely resembles, even in many details, the corresponding system practised by the early Romans. Our suggestion is, then, that these two systems may have had a common root; that, while the Aryans carried the system westward into Europe, the Indonesians, or some Caucasic people which has been merged in the Indonesian stock, carried it eastward; and that the Kayans, with their strongly conservative tendencies, their serious religious temperament, and strong tribal organisation, have, of all the Indonesians, preserved most faithfully this ancient religious system and have imparted it in a more or less partial manner to the tribes to whom they have given so much else of culture, custom, and belief.

It is perhaps not without significance in this connection that the Karens, whom we regard as the nearest relatives of the Kayans, were found to worship a Supreme Being, and have proved peculiarly apt pupils of the Christian missionaries who have long laboured among them.

By way of crowning the indiscretion of the foregoing paragraphs, we point out that there are certain faint indications of linguistic support for this speculative suggestion. BALI, which, as we have explained, is used by Kayans and Kenyahs to denote whatever is sacred or is connected with religious practices, is undoubtedly a word of Sanskrit derivation.[211] FLAKI, the name of the bird of most importance in augury, bears a suggestive resemblance to the German FALKE and the Latin FALCO. The Kayan word for omen is AMAN, the resemblance of which to the Latin word is striking. Are these resemblances merely accidental? If more of the words connected with the religious beliefs and practices could be shown to exhibit equally close resemblances, we should be justified in saying — No.

CHAPTER 22

Government

In an earlier chapter we have sketched the history of government in Borneo from the earliest times of which any record remains, up to the time at which the whole island was brought under European control. In this chapter we propose to describe the way in which the European governments have extended their spheres of influence and have secured the co-operation of the natives in the maintenance of peace and order and freedom.

For some years after Mr. James Brooke became Rajah of Sarawak (1841), his rule was confined to the territory then known as Sarawak. This area, still known as Sarawak proper, is some 7000 square miles in extent and comprises the basins of the following rivers: the Sarawak, the Samarahan, the Sadong, and the Lundu. The Batang Lupar and Saribas rivers, which enter the sea to the north of this area, were infested by pirate bands under the leadership of Malay Serifs who, though they professed allegiance to the Sultan of Bruni, were but little controlled by him. The depredations of these unruly neighbours led Sir James Brooke to undertake several expeditions against them. In the year 1849, Captain Sir Harry Keppel of H.M.S. DIDO lent his aid (not for the first time), and the combined forces finally swept out those hornets' nests and put an end to piracy in those regions. With the approval of the Sultan of Bruni, Rajah Brooke established stations in the lower waters of the Saribas and Skarang rivers, and a little later at Kanowit on the Rejang River. This was the first of a series of similar steps by which the area of the Raj has been successively extended, until now it comprises about 60,000 square miles, more than eight times its original extent. In each of these out-stations one or two English officers were appointed to represent the Rajah's government. In each station a small wooden fort was built, and in some cases the fort was surrounded with a stockade. This served as residence for the officer, or officers, and their small band of native police, generally some ten or twelve Malays armed with rifles and a small cannon. The prime duty of these officers, entitled Governors (or later, Residents), was to protect the local population from the oppression and depredations of the Serifs, and generally to discourage and punish bloodshed and disorder. The general policy followed in all these new districts was to elicit the co-operation of the local chiefs and headmen, and, when the people had begun to appreciate the benefits of peace, including the opening of the rivers to Malay and Chinese traders, to impose a small poll-tax to defray the expenses of administration. The area of control was then gradually extended farther into the interior by securing the voluntary adhesion of communities and tribes settled in the tributaries and higher waters of each river. This policy, steadily pursued in one district after another, has invariably succeeded, although the time required for complete pacification has, of course, varied considerably; and it was only during the early years of this century that the process seemed to reach its final stage among the Sea Dayaks in the interiors of the Batang Lupar and Rejang districts.

The stability of the Rajah's government was seriously threatened in 1857 by the insurrection of Chinese gold-workers at Bau in Sarawak proper. But this rebellion, in the course of which Sir James Brooke narrowly escaped death at the hands of the rebels, was soon suppressed, largely by the energy of the Tuan Muda (the present Rajah), who came to the aid of Sir James with a strong force of Sea Dayaks and Malays.

The process of establishing order and good government in the new territory was complicated by the intrigues of the Bruni nobles or PANGIRANS and of the independent Malay chiefs, who, seeing their power to oppress and misrule the coast districts seriously curtailed, and indeed threatened with extinction, by the growing influence of the Europeans in Borneo, conspired with others of similar status in Dutch Borneo to rid the island of these unwelcome innovators. In the year 1859 two English officers of the Sarawak government at Kanowit on the lower Rejang (Messrs. Fox and Steele) were murdered by a gang of Malanaus. There was good reason to believe that this incident, together with several murders of Europeans in Dutch Borneo, was the result of a loosely concerted action of the Malay chiefs, and that the Kanowit murders were directly instigated by Serif Masahor and Pangiran Dipa; the latter a Bruni noble who misruled Muka and the surrounding area. Rajah Brooke visited the Sultan of Bruni and secured his authorisation for the punishment of these and others concerned in the murders; and in 1860 an expedition, led by his two nephews, captured Muka and would have expelled the Serif and the Pangiran but for the untimely interference of the British Consul at Bruni, who seems to have been misinformed of the nature of the situation.[212] In the following year the Rajah, visiting the Sultan at Bruni, found him willing to cede Muka and the basins of the adjoining rivers, the Oya, Tatau, and Bintulu, in return for a perpetual annual payment of 16,000 dollars, an arrangement which was accepted and which still holds good. Thus the intrigues of the Malay nobles, which for a time had seriously threatened the stability of the Rajah's government, resulted in the addition of an area of some 7000 square miles to the Sarawak territory.

The basin of the Rejang, the largest river of Sarawak, was the next region to be added to the Raj. Here Sir James Brooke's government first came into contact with the Kayans (in the year 1863). The reputation of the Kayans as a dominant tribe of warriors, whose raids were feared even as far as Bruni, had rendered them proud and self. confident- and unready to appreciate the benefits of the Rajah's government. Their continued hostility rendered advisable a demonstration of force. Accordingly in the year 1863 the Tuan Muda (the present Rajah, H. H. Sir Charles Brooke) led an expedition of some 10,000 or more native levies, consisting chiefly of Sea Dayaks and Malays, up the Rejang as far as the mouth of the Baloi Peh, a spot some 250 miles from the mouth of the Rejang and in the edge of the Kayan country. The Kayans could not withstand so large a force and retreated farther up river after but little show of resistance. Several of their long houses were destroyed, and a message demanding their submission to the Rajah's government was sent by a captive to Oyong Hang, the most influential of the Kayan chiefs. The messenger carried a cannon-ball and the Sarawak flag, and was instructed to ask Oyang Hang which he would choose; to which question the chief is said to have returned the answer that he wanted neither. Although the expedition failed to secure the submission of any large number of the Kayans and Kenyahs, it established the Rajah's authority as far as it had penetrated; for a number of Klemantan villages settled in the middle reaches of the Rejang accepted the offer of peace, and a number of their chiefs brought the Sarawak flag down river and celebrated the traditional peace-making rites with the Rajah's representative. The Kayans have never since attempted to raid the lower reaches of the river; but it was not until the early eighties, during the Residency of the late Mr. H. B. Low, that the bulk of the Kayans of the Rejang acknowledged the Rajah's authority and began to co-operate in his administration, a result achieved without any repetition of the large expedition of 1863. From that time (about 1885) the Baloi or Upper Rejang may be regarded as having formed part of Sarawak.

In the year 1882 the northern boundary of Sarawak was again pushed forward by the cession to the Rajah by the Sultan of Bruni of the basin of the Baram, an area of some 10,000 square miles, on condition of a perpetual annual payment of 6000 dollars. This was an area in which, except along the coast, the Sultan's authority had never been exercised, and which had been kept closed to trade and the depredations of the Malays, by the fear of the Kayans. For the Kayans, who dominated all the middle waters of the Baram, had in the past threatened even Bruni. The Sultan was no doubt glad to see the Rajah undertake the task of controlling his formidable neighbours, who, dwelling within striking distance of his capital, were a perpetual menace to his power and even to his personal safety. The Baram district has been brought completely under the Rajah's rule without the introduction of any armed force from outside; and as the process of establishing peace and order has there followed a normal and undisturbed course, and is familiarly known to us, we propose to describe it in some detail on a later page. Since the date of the inclusion of the Baram, the Raj of Sarawak has been again extended towards the north on three. occasions. The first of these additions was the basin of the Trusan River. In this case the Sultan offered to sell the territory for a lump sum, and his offer was accepted by the Rajah, whose officers occupied it in the year 1885. In 1890, the people living on the Limbang River, whose basin adjoins that of the Baram on its northern border, were in a state of rebellion against the Sultan, and the region had for several years been in a very disturbed state. The present Rajah therefore proposed to annex the country in return for an annual payment. The British Government was asked to approve this step and to fix the amount of the sum to be paid to the Sultan. A favourable reply having been given by the Foreign Office, and the annual sum of 6000 dollars having been awarded as a fair return for the cession, the administration of the country was peacefully entered upon by the Rajah's officers, who where warmly welcomed by the greater part of the inhabitants.

The latest and presumably the final extension of the boundaries of Sarawak was effected in 1905, when the basin of the small river Lawas was bought from the British North Borneo Company.

In the opening year of this century a small part of Borneo still remained under purely native control, namely, the town of Bruni and an area about it of 1700 square miles, comprising the basins of the small rivers Balait and Tutong. By agreement with the Sultan this area was placed under the administration of a Resident representing the British Government in the year 1906. Thus the European occupation of Borneo was completed.

The history of the establishment of Dutch rule throughout the larger part of Borneo has been similar to that of the acquisition of Sarawak by its two English Rajahs. Dutch trading stations were established in the south-west corner of Borneo as early as 1604. In the seventeenth century stations were established in southern Borneo by both British and Dutch traders; but the Dutch traders extended their influence more rapidly than their rivals, and by the middle of the eighteenth century had secured a practically exclusive influence in those parts. The British held possession of all the Dutch East Indies during the brief period (1811 — 1816) which was terminated by the Congress of Vienna. On the retirement of the British, the Dutch Government took over all the rights acquired by the Dutch traders; and since that time it has continued to consolidate its control and to extend the area of its administration farther into the interior along the courses of the great rivers. There were in the area that is now Dutch Borneo several independent Malay Sultans, of which the principal had their capitals at Pontianak, Banjermasin, and Kotei. In 1823 the Sultan of Banjermasin ceded a large part of his territory to the Dutch government; in 1844 the Sultan of Kotei accepted its protection; and by similar steps by far the larger part of the island has been marked out as the Dutch sphere of influence. The water parting from which the principal rivers flow east and west has been agreed upon by the Dutch and the Sarawak governments as the boundary between their territories; and though the upper waters of the great rivers which flow west and south through Dutch Borneo have up to the present time hardly been explored, the authority of the Dutch Government is well established over all the tribes of the coastal regions and, especially in the south, extends far into the interior, but is still little more than nominal in the head waters of the rivers. The system of administration now practised by the Dutch closely resembles in most essential respects that obtaining in Sarawak, and it has brought to the natives of the greater part of Dutch Borneo the same great benefits, peace, freedom, justice, and trade.

The northern extremity of Borneo, an area comprising some 31,000 square miles and 200,000 inhabitants, is now administered by the British North Borneo Company (chartered by the British Government in 1892), which acquired it by purchase in successive instalments from the Sultans of Bruni and Sulu. The Company has followed in the main an administrative policy similar to that of Sarawak, and has appointed as governors officers of large East Indian experience placed at their disposal by the British Government. The Company has attempted to achieve in a brief period a degree of commercial development which in Sarawak and Dutch Borneo has been reached only gradually in the course of several generations; and to this circumstance must be attributed many of the difficulties which for a time caused it "to get into the newspapers." But these difficulties have now been overcome, and the whole territory placed in a condition of prosperity and orderly progress.

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It has been widely recognised that Sarawak provides a most notable example of beneficent administration of the affairs of a population in a lowly state of culture by representatives of our Western civilisation. Among all such administrative systems that of Sarawak has been distinguished not only by the rapid establishment of peace, order, and a modest prosperity, with a minimum output of armed force, but especially by reason of the careful way in which the interests of the native population have constantly been made the prime object of the government's solicitude. The story of the success of the two white Rajahs of Sarawak has several times been told in whole or in part. But we think it is worth while to try to give some intimate glimpses of the working of the system as it affects the daily lives of the pagan tribes, taking our illustrations in the main from incidents in which one of us has been personally concerned.

From the very inception of his rule, Sir James Brooke laid down and strictly adhered to the principle of associating the natives with himself and his European assistants in the government of the country, and of respecting and maintaining whatever was not positively objectionable in the laws and customs of the people. And this policy has been as faithfully followed by the present Rajah.[213] The Raj of which Sir James Brooke became the absolute ruler in the way described in Chapter II. was a country in which the supreme authority had been exercised for many generations by Malay rulers, and in which the only generally recognised system of law was the Mohammedan law administered by them. The two white Rajahs, instead of imposing any system of European-made laws upon the people, as in their Position of benevolent despot they might have been tempted to do, have accepted the Mohammedan law and custom in all matters affecting the population of the Mohammedan religion; and they have gradually introduced improvements when and where the defects and injustices of the system revealed themselves. In the work both of administration and legislation the Rajahs have always sought and enjoyed the advice and co-operation of Malays. They have maintained the principal ministries of State, and have continued the tenure of those offices by the Malay nobles who occupied them at the time of Sir James Brooke's accession to power; and, as these have died or retired in the natural course, they have chosen leading Malays of the aristocratic class to fill the vacancies. Three of these Malay officers, namely, the Datu Bandar, Datu Imaum, and the Datu Hakim, have been members of the Supreme Council since its institution in 1855. The first of these offices may be best defined by likening it to that of a Lord Mayor; or better, perhaps, to that of the salaried Burgomaster of a German city; its occupant is understood to be the leading citizen of the Malay community of Kuching, the capital town of Sarawak. The Datu Imaum is the religious head of the Mohammedan community, and the Datu Hakim the principal of the Malay judges.

The Supreme Council consists of the three Malay officers named above together with three or four of the principal European officers, and the Rajah, who presides over its deliberations. It meets at least once a month to consider all matters referred to it by lower tribunals. It embodies the absolute authority of the Rajah; from its decrees there is no appeal. It decides questions of justice, administration, and legislation; and it continually enriches and improves the law by creating precedents, which serve to guide the local courts, by deliberately revising and repealing laws, and by adding new laws to the Statute Book. It is the sole legislative authority. The presence of the Malay members at the meetings of the Council is by no means a mere formality; they take an active part in its deliberations and decisions.

Beside the Supreme Council there exists a larger body whose functions are purely advisory. It is called the Council NEGRI or State Council, and consists of the Rajah and the members of the Supreme Council, the Residents in charge of the more important districts, and the principal "Native Officers" and PENGHULUS, some seventy members in all. This Council meets at Kuching once in every three years under the presidency of the Rajah, who provides the members with suitable lodgings and entertains them at dinner. At the meeting of this council topics of general interest are discussed, and the Rajah makes some general review of the state of public affairs and the progress achieved since the previous meeting. But the principal purpose of the institution is the bringing together, under conditions favourable for friendly intercourse, of the leading men of the whole country. Each new member is formally sworn in, taking an oath of loyalty to the Rajah and his government. The native chiefs return from these meetings with an enhanced sense of the importance and dignity of their office and with clearer notions of the whole system of government and of their places in it.

Though Mohammedan law remains as the basis of the law administered among the Malays, notable improvements have been introduced, E.G. the death penalty for incest and corporal punishment for conjugal infidelity have been abolished; slaveholding, though not made illegal, has been discouraged throughout the country by rendering it easy for slaves to secure their freedom; and the power of the master over his slave has been greatly restricted. A man is not allowed to marry a second or third wife, unless he can prove himself able to provide for each of the women and her offspring; wilful murder is always punished by death or long imprisonment, not merely by imposition of a fine as in former times.

The development of commerce and industries has, of course, given rise to legal questions for which the Mohammedan law provides no answers; and to meet these necessities, laws modelled on the Indian code and on English law have been enacted.

The presence of a large Chinese community (now comprising some 50,000 persons) has always been a source of legal and administrative difficulties. These difficulties have been met in the past by securing the presence of leading Chinese merchants on the judicial bench, as assessors familiar with the language, customs, and circumstances of their countrymen, whenever the latter have been involved in legal proceedings. In the present year a special court for the trial of Chinese civil cases has been instituted, consisting of seven of the leading Chinese merchants, of whom all, save the president, who is nominated by the Rajah, are elected by the Chinese community.

The government of the pagan population, comprising as it does so many tribes of diverse customs, languages, and circumstances, has presented a more varied and in many respects a more difficult problem. But the same principles have been everywhere applied in their case also. The backbone of the administrative and judicial system has been constituted by the small staff of English officers carefully chosen by the Rajah, and increased from time to time as the extension of the boundaries of Sarawak opened new fields for their activities. During recent years this administrative staff has counted some fifty to sixty English members. Of these about a dozen are quartered in Kuching, namely, the Resident of the first division, his assistant, a second-class Resident, and the heads of the principal departments, the post office, police and prisons, the treasury, the department of lands and surveys, public works, education, and the rangers.

The Sarawak rangers are a body of some 400 men trained to the use of fire-arms and under military discipline. The majority are Sea Dayaks, the remainder Malays and Sikhs. Two white officers, the commandant and the gunnery instructor, are supported by native non-commissioned officers. The force is recruited by voluntary enlistment, the men joining in the first place for five years' service. This force supplies the garrisons of the small forts, one or more of which are maintained in each district; and from it a small body of riflemen has commonly been drawn to form the nucleus of any expeditionary force required for punitive operations.

The whole territory of Sarawak is divided into four divisions, each of which is again divided into two or more districts. The first division coincides with Sarawak proper; the second includes the Batang Lupar, Saribas, and Kelaka districts; the third comprises the Rejang, Oya, Muka, Bintulu, and Matu districts; the fourth consists of the Baram, Limbang, Trusan, and Lawas. The first, third, and fourth divisions are administered by divisional Residents, which three officers rank next to the Rajah in the official hierarchy. Each district is under the immediate charge of an officer. These district officers are of two ranks, namely Residents of the second class, and Assistant Residents. In each district, with the exception of the smallest, the Resident is assisted in his multifarious duties by a second white officer of the rank of cadet or extra-officer, and has under his direction a squad of ten to twenty-five rangers under the charge of a sergeant; a sergeant of police in charge of about twelve policemen, who are generally drawn from the locality; several Malay or Chinese clerks; and generally some two or three "native officers." The last are Malays of the aristocratic class resident in the district; they are appointed by the Rajah on the recommendation of the Resident and receive a regular salary. Their duties are to assist the Resident in his police-court work, to hold special courts for the settlement of purely Malay cases of a domestic nature, and to take charge of the station in the absence of the Resident and his assistant.

The prime duty of the Resident is to preserve order in his district and to punish crimes of violence. But he is responsible also for every detail of administration, including the collection of taxes and customs duties, the settlement of disputes, and the hearing of complaints of all kinds, the furnishing of reports to the central government on all matters of moment, the development of trade and the protection of traders, especially the inoffensive Chinese; and above all, in the newer districts, it is his duty to gain the confidence of the chiefs of the wilder tribes, and to lead them to accept the Sarawak flag and the benefits of the Rajah's government, in return for the small poll-tax required of them. It is well recognised by the Rajah and his officers that the success of a Resident depends primarily upon his acquiring intimate knowledge of the people and establishing and maintaining good relations with them; and with this end in view every Resident is expected to be familiar not only with the Malay language, which is the official language of the country, as well as in some measure a common medium of communication between the chiefs of the various tribes, but also with one or more of the other languages spoken in his district. The headquarters of the Resident are usually the fort, or a small residency built not far from it in the lower reaches of the chief river of his district. Here a Chinese bazaar, I.E. a compact village of Chinese traders and shopkeepers, and a Malay Kampong, generally spring up under the shelter of the fort; and thus the station becomes the headquarters of trade as well as of administration. To this centre the workers of jungle produce bring their stuff, floating down river on rafts of rattans or in their canoes; from it the Malay and Chinese traders or pedlars set out in their boats for long journeys among the up-river people; and to it come occasional parties of the up-river tribesmen, to consult with the Resident, to seek redress for wrongs, to report the movements of tribes in the adjacent territories, or to obtain permission to go on the war-path in order to punish offences committed against them.

Since the river is the one great high road, and since the Resident and his assistants are seated generally near the point where it leaves the district, the coming and going of all visitors can hardly escape their observation. And, since the station sees every few days the arrival of visitors or the return of parties of its own people from up river, the Resident can keep himself pretty well informed of the state of the country, and all news of importance will reach him after no long delay, if only he is always accessible and willing to turn a sympathetic ear to all comers.

But the successful administration of one of the larger and wilder districts, such as the Rejang or the Baram, requires that the Resident shall not be content with the zealous discharge of his many duties at his headquarters. He can only establish intimate relations of reciprocal knowledge and confidence with the chiefs of the many scattered communities of his district by making long journeys up river several times a year. And situations not infrequently arise which urgently demand his presence in some outlying part of his district and which serve as the occasions of such journeys.

Before describing such a journey, something must be said of the place in the scheme of government occupied by the chiefs and headmen of the various communities. Each of the Malay Kampongs and other similar villages of the Malanaus and other coastwise peoples is under the immediate charge of one of its more influential elders, who bears the title of TUAH KAMPONG. He is appointed by the Rajah on the recommendation of the Resident and receives a small salary. His duties are to settle the minor disputes of his village, to collect the tax, to keep order, and to report all breaches of the peace to the Resident. He has authority to call in the police and to order the arrest of any villager; in cases of dispute between villages he represents his village in the Resident's court, and, where his own people are concerned, he may sit on the bench with the Resident to hear and advise upon the case. The Sarawak flag is the badge of his office, and his position and duties are defined in a document bearing the Rajah's signature.

From among the more influential chiefs of the up-river communities the Rajah appoints, on the recommendation of the Resident, a certain number in each district to the office of PENGHULU. In a district of Mixed population such as the Baram, one PENGHULU (sometimes two) is usually appointed for each of the principal tribes of the district, E.G. in the Baram are, or recently were, two Kayans, one Kenyah, one Sebop, and one Barawan holding the office. The principal PENGHULUS are made members of the Council of State, and they are expected to attend its triennial meetings. The status of the PENGHULUS is similar to that of the TUAH KAMPONG, and he also is given the Sarawak flag, which he will display on his boat on official journeys, and a document signed by the Rajah recording his appointment and the duties of his office; but many of them derive a considerably greater importance than their fellows from the numerical strength and the warlike character of their followings. The PENGHULU has authority not only over his own house or village, but also over the chiefs or headmen of other communities of the same tribe and region. He is expected to keep the Resident informed of any local incident requiring his attention, and to be present in the Resident's court when any of his people are tried for any serious offence; he has authority to try minor cases, both civil and criminal, among his own people. Perhaps his most important service is the following. When an up-river man has been charged with a serious offence, the summons of the Resident's court is forwarded to the PENGHULU of his tribe and district with the instruction that he shall send the man down river to headquarters. It is generally possible for the PENGHULU to call the man to him, and, by explaining to him the situation and the order of the Resident, to secure his peaceful surrender. But in case of refusal to come, or of active resistance, the PENGHULU is expected to apply such force as may be necessary for effecting the arrest and the conveyance to headquarters. In this way in a well-governed district the arrest of evildoers is effected with remarkable sureness and with far less risk of violence, bloodshed, and the arousal of angry passions, than if the Resident should send his police or rangers to do the work. The PENGHULU is in a much better position than the Resident for obtaining accurate information upon, and a full understanding of, the circumstances of any such up-river incidents; and his help is thus often of the greatest value to the Resident. If he judges that the accused man is innocent, and especially if the charge against him has been made by a Chinaman, a Malay, or a member of any other than his own tribe, he will usually accompany the prisoner to headquarters, in, order to see that no injustice is done him. Another important function of the PENGHULU is the preliminary investigation of breaches of the peace among his people (see vol. ii. p. 219).

The PENGHULU is responsible also for the collection of the door-tax from the chief of each house or village of his people and for its delivery to the Resident. He is allowed to exercise a certain discretion in the matter of remission of taxes to elderly or infirm householders. He is responsible also for the transmission to the Resident of all sums in payment of fines of more than five dollars, imposed by himself or by his subordinate chiefs. On the happily infrequent occasions on which it becomes necessary to organise a punitive expedition, the PENGHULUS are expected to help in the raising of the required force, and to accompany the expedition as commanders of their own group of warriors, acting under the orders of the Resident.

A PENGHULU is punished for neglect of his duties by suspension from his office for a definite period, or in more serious cases by dismissal and the appointment of another chief Since the dignity and prestige of the office are high, this punishment is deeply felt.

Among the Kayans and Kenyahs and most of the Klemantans, the PENGHULUS exercise a very effective authority, and, since with few exceptions the chiefs chosen to fill the office have been loyal, zealous, and capable, they have rendered great services to the government. Among the Sea Dayaks the lack of authority of the chiefs, which is a characteristic feature of their social system, has rendered it impossible to secure for their PENGHULUS the same high standing and large influence; the result of which has been the creation of an unduly large number of these officers and the consequent further depreciation of the dignity of the office.

The PENGHULU is the link between the native system of government as it obtained before the coming of the white man, and that established and maintained by the Rajah and his white officers. The former consisted of the exercise of authority by the several chiefs, each over the people of his own village only, except in so far as a chief might acquire some special prestige and influence over others through his own reputation for wisdom and that of his people for success in war. Among the Kayans and Kenyahs especially, the principal chiefs have long aimed at extending their influence by marrying their relatives to those of other powerful chiefs. In this way chiefs of exceptional capacity, aided by good fortune, have achieved in certain instances a very extended influence. Such a chief was Laki Avit, a Kenyah, who, some twenty years before the Rajah's officers first entered upon the task of administering the Baram, was recognised throughout all the interior of the district as the leading chief, a position which could only have been achieved by the consistent pursuit of a wise policy of conciliation and just dealing between. Kenyahs and Kayans. But the order and peace maintained by the influence of such a chief depended wholly on his continued vigour, and they seldom or never survived his death by more than a few years. In the case of Laki Avit, for example, the Bruni Malays, jealous and afraid of the allied Kayans and Kenyahs, soon succeeded by means of murderous intrigues in bringing back the more normal condition of suspicious hostility and frequent warfare. Thus, although several chiefs had endeavoured to establish peace throughout wide areas, no one of them had achieved any enduring success. For this end the unifying influence of a central authority and superior power was necessary, and this was supplied by the Rajah. We may liken the whole system of society as now established to a conical structure consisting of a common apex from which lines of authority descend to the base, branching as they go at three principal levels. If we imagine the upper part of this structure cut away at a horizontal plane just above the lowest level of branching, we have a diagrammatic representation of the state of affairs preceding the Rajah's advent — a large number of small cones each representing a village unified by the subordination of its members to its chief, but each one remaining isolated without any bond of union with its neighbours. At the present time the base of the cone remains almost unchanged, but the Rajah's government binds together all its isolated groups to form one harmonious whole, by means of the hierarchy of officers whose authority proceeds from the Rajah himself, the apex of the system.

The establishment of the Rajah's government has thus involved no breaking up of the old forms of society, no attempt to recast it after any foreign model, but has merely supplied the elements that were lacking to the system, if it was to enable men to live at peace, to prosper and multiply, and to enjoy the fruits of their labours. But though we describe the society of Sarawak as being now a completed structure, the simile is inadequate and might mislead. The structure is not that of a rigid building, but of a living organisation; and its efficiency and permanence depend upon the unceasing activities of all its parts, each conscious of the whole and of its own essential role in the life of the whole, and each animated by a common spirit of unswerving devotion to, and untiring effort in the cause of, the whole. The Rajah's power rests upon the broad base of the people's willing co-operation; he in turn is for them the symbol of the whole, by the aid of which they are enabled to think of the state as their common country and common object of devotion; and from him there descends through his officers the spirit which animates the whole, a spirit of reciprocal confidence, justice, goodwill, and devotion to duty. The system is in fact the realisation of the ideal of monarchy or personal government; its successful working depends above all on the character and intellect of the man who stands at the head of the state; and the steady progress of all better aspects of civilisation in Sarawak, a progress which has evoked the warm praise of many experienced and independent observers,[214] has been due to the fact that the resolution, the tact and sympathy, the wisdom and high ideals which enabled the first of its English Rajahs to establish his authority, have been unfailingly displayed in no less degree by his successor throughout his long reign.

It is obvious that this permeation of the whole system of government by the spirit of its head can only be perpetuated by constant personal intercourse between him and his officers and between the officers of the various grades. This has been a main principle observed by the Rajah. He has frequently visited the district stations, to spend a few days in consultation with his white officers, and to renew his personal acquaintance with the local chiefs, who spontaneously assemble to await his arrival. Such visits to any station have seldom been made at greater intervals than one year; and these annual meetings at the district stations between the Rajah and his officers of all grades have been of the utmost value in preserving the profound and personal respect with which he is regarded throughout the land and which is in due measure reflected to his representatives, both white and native. The Rajah has also kept himself in close touch with the Residents and the affairs even of the remotest districts by encouraging the Residents to write to him personally and fully on all important matters, and by writing with his own hand full and prompt replies.

The foregoing brief account of the system of government will have accentuated its essentially personal character; and it will have made clear the necessity for constant personal intercourse between the officers of various grades, and for the long excursions of the Residents into the interior parts of their districts, one of which we propose to describe as an illustration of the intimate working of the administrative system. For in the larger and wilder districts the Resident's station may be separated from populous villages by a tract of wild jungle country, the return journey over which cannot be accomplished in less than a month or even more.

The journey we are about to describe, as illustrative of the administrative labours of the Resident of one of the wilder districts, was made in the Baram in the year 1898 by one of us (C. H.) in the course of his official duties and in part only by the joint-author of this book. A slight sketch of the political history and condition of the Baram is required to render intelligible the objects of the journey and the course of events. The Baram was added to Sarawak territory, under the circumstances described above (vol. ii. p. 261), in the year 1882. At that time it enjoyed the reputation of a wild and dangerous region, owing to the strength of the Kayans, who, dwelling in all the middle parts of the rivers, had made a number of bold raids as far as the coast and even to the neighbourhood of Bruni. The Sea Dayaks had obtained no footing in the river, and the Klemantans, who dwelt in the lower reaches, had proved quite incapable of withstanding their formidable neighbours. The latter had driven them out of the more desirable parts of the river, had made many slaves, and had appropriated many of the valuable caves in which they had gathered the edible nests of the swift. But considerable numbers of the Klemantans remained in the lower reaches and in some of the tributary rivers. The upper waters of the Baram were occupied mainly by Kenyah communities; and about the watershed in which the Baram, the Rejang, and the Batang Kayan have their sources (a mountainous highland, geographically the very centre of the island, known as Usun Apo), were the Madangs, a powerful sub-tribe of the Kenyahs, whose reputation as warriors was second to none. In 1883 a fort was built at Marudi (now officially known as Claudetown), a spot on the river-bank some sixty miles from the sea, the first spot at which in ascending the river a high bank suitable for a settlement is encountered. Here Mr. Claude de Crespigny, assisted by two junior officers, a squad of some thirty rangers, and a few native police, began the task of introducing law and order into these 10,000 square miles of dense jungles, rushing rivers, and high mountains, the scene for unknown ages of the hard perpetual struggle of savage man with nature, and of the fierce conflict of man with man. At first the interior tribes remained aloof, and the little outpost of civilisation was frequently threatened by them with extermination. But after some few years the Kayans of the lower villages became reconciled to the new state of affairs, recognised the authority of the Rajah and of the Resident, and consented to pay the small annual door-tax amounting to two dollars per family or door.

These were the Kayans of villages that were readily accessible because seated on reaches of the river navigable by the Resident's steam-launch, that is, not more than seventy miles above Claudetown. It was soon realised that the people of the remoter parts were only to be brought under the Rajah's government by means of friendly visits of the Resident to their villages. This policy was actively pursued by Mr. Charles Hose, who had become assistant to the Resident in 1884, officer in charge in 1888, and Resident in 1890; some four or five long journeys were made each year, each occupying several weeks. During these journeys, which were necessarily made in the native boats, the Resident would spend the nights, whenever possible, in the native houses, sometimes whiling away several days in friendly intercourse with his hosts, and thus acquiring much useful information as well as more intimate understanding of their characters, languages, and customs. In this way the area of government control was extended step by step, until about the year 1891 practically all the inhabitants of the Baram had accepted the Rajah's government and acknowledged it by the payment of some tax, however small. The chiefs of the Klemantans and their people were for the most part very glad to place themselves under the protection of this new government; but the Kayans and Kenyahs, not feeling themselves to be in need of any such protection, were less ready to accept the Resident's proposals. Two considerations mainly induced them to take this course: first, they desired peace, or at any rate less warfare, and it was possible to convince them that this result might be achieved by pointing to other districts such as the Rejang, with whose affairs they had some acquaintance. Secondly, they found that a Chinese bazaar had sprung up at Claudetown, and that, as soon as they accepted the Rajah's government, they would obtain greatly increased facilities for driving the highly profitable trade in jungle produce; for, before they had come under the government, the Chinese and Malay traders had hardly ventured to penetrate to their remote villages with their cloths and lucifer matches, hardware, steel bars, and other much-coveted goods.

Several of the most influential chiefs who had early showed themselves staunch friends of the government were made PENGHULUS, and have long continued by their example and influence energetically to support the Resident, notably the Kayan, Tama Usong, and the Kenyah, Tama Bulan (see Pls. 49, 27). The latter especially, though not one of the first to come in, exercised his great influence consistently, wisely, and energetically, in support of the Resident and in the establishment of peace and order throughout the district and even beyond its boundaries. But he was only one of several chiefs who have displayed a high degree of enlightenment and moral qualities of a very high order.

The hostility of the Kalabits on the north-eastern border, who persistently raided those villages of their fellow-tribesmen that had come under the government, had necessitated an expedition against them in 1893. And Sea Dayak parties of jungle workers had on more than one occasion stirred up serious trouble. But, in spite of these difficulties, by the year 1898 all the inhabitants of the district were paying the regular door-tax, crimes of violence had been almost abolished, trade was everywhere increasing, and peace was assured, save for the threat to it from one quarter, namely, the Madangs of Usun Apo and the neighbouring powerful settlements of Kenyahs across the water-parting in the head-waters of the Batang Kayan. It had always been a weakness of the Rajah's government that it could assure to the Baram people no protection against attack from those regions, the latter of which, though nominally Dutch territory, was not yet controlled by the Dutch government. In the year 1897 a numerous band of Madangs had migrated into the extreme head of the Baram from the corresponding and closely adjoining part of the Rejang, largely owing to the pressure put upon them by the ever roving and meddlesome Sea Dayaks. Neither these Madangs nor the Kenyahs of the Batang Kayan had entered into friendly relations with the Sarawak government, and they had preserved a hostile attitude towards the Baram tribes. The Resident therefore determined to visit the Madangs, and to invite Kenyah chiefs from the Batang Kayan to meet him on the extreme edge of the Sarawak territory, in order to open friendly intercourse with them, and to persuade them if possible to attend a general peace-meeting at Claudetown, at which the outstanding feuds between them and the Baram folk might be ceremonially washed out in the blood of pigs. For, if this attempt could be carried to a successful issue, it would go far to assure the peace of the whole district, and would add considerably to the volume of trade descending the Baram River: An additional feature of the programme was that the Resident should take with him on his visit a number of the Baram chiefs, and should in the course of the journey make arrangements with the largest possible number of chiefs for their attendance at the proposed peace-making.

Accordingly, on the 9th of October 1898, we started from Claudetown in the Resident's launch with a retinue of half a dozen Sea Dayak rangers and two policemen, and towing some half a dozen boats, including one for our own use up-river. After spending a day in visiting villages in the lower Tinjar, the largest tributary of the Baram, we resumed the journey up-river and reached the village of Long Tamala. There we were joined by the chiefs of the two houses Tama Aping Nipa and Tama Aping Kuleh, and were most hospitably entertained by the former. On the following morning we again steamed up-river, having added to our train these two Kenyah chiefs, each with a boat's crew of fighting men, they having agreed to make the whole journey with us. After stopping at several villages at which the Resident's services were in request for the settlement of disputed questions, in the afternoon we reached Long Tajin, a big Kayan village, and were welcomed by Juman, the chief, and his wife Sulau, a woman of strikingly handsome and refined features and graceful aristocratic manner (Pl. 31). She is the daughter of the late Aban Jau, who was for many years the most powerful chief of the Tinjar Sebops. He had long resisted the advances of the Resident, and had submitted to the Rajah's government only after a long course of patient persuasion. He had regarded himself as the up-river Rajah, and had never ceased to regret the old state of affairs. "I'm an old man now," he told the Resident, "but if I were as salt as I used to be, the Rajah would not have taken possession of the Baram without a struggle." Another of his many picturesque sayings seems worth recording: "Your Rajah may govern the down-river people; they are inside the Sultan's fence and he had the right to hand them over. But over us he had no authority; we are the tigers of the jungle and have never been tamed." He had frequently threatened to attack the fort; and when he had sent to the Resident a message to that effect in the usual symbolic language, the latter's only reply had been to go up to his house with two or three men only, and to spend five days there as Aban Jau's guest, and to persuade him to come down to Claudetown to meet the Rajah.

The evening was spent in discussing the prospects of the expedition with Juman and other chiefs, some of whom took a gloomy view. The following morning the steam-launch was sent downriver, and we took to the boats and paddled a short stage to Bawang Takun, another large Kayan village, where we stayed over-night to give the people time to prepare their boats and the Resident the opportunity for some judicial inquiries. There was heavy rain throughout the night, and in the morning the river, which in this part of its course runs between limestone cliffs, was rushing so rapidly that we could only make progress by repeatedly crossing the river to seek the slack-water side of each reach. Failing to reach any village, we passed the night in rude shelters on the bank. On the following day the river was still in flood, but we reached Long Lawa, a Kayan village, and decided to wait there until the river should subside to a more normal condition. Here a party of Kenyahs met us, sent by Tama Bulan to conduct us to his house some two or three days' journey up the Pata tributary. On the morning of the 16th the river had fallen ten feet, and starting at daybreak we reached the mouth of the Pata, and camped on a KERANGAN or pebble-bed beautifully situated among the forest-clad slopes a little way up the Pata. In the course of the day a boatful of Kayans from the Apoh had joined us. On the 17th we had an exciting day working up the rapids and waterfalls of the Pata, and reached Long Lutin, a very large Kayan village of many long houses, most pleasantly situated and surrounded by hills clothed with the rich green of the young PADI crop. Here we spent the night in the house of the principal chief, Laki Lah, a quaint old bachelor, whom we greatly astonished by eating plum-pudding with burning brandy upon it.

Another day's journey over a long series of rapids brought us to the house of Tama Bulan, at that time the most influential chief of the Baram. We found there a number of Kenyah chiefs from the upper reaches of the Pata awaiting our arrival. Tama Bulan, who was strongly in favour of carrying through the Resident's plan, eloquently supported it during the hospitable procedures of the evening, assuring the assembled chiefs that the journey would finally resolve the troubles of the Baram. As usual there was no lack of enterprise and "go" among the Kenyahs, and they were all keen to make the venture; while the Kayans on the other hand were, as always, more cautious, more inclined to dwell on the possibilities of failure, and slower to take up the plan and make it their own. The Kenyahs had not yet completed the taking of omens for the expedition, and the following days were devoted to this process (see vol. ii. p. 52), Tama Bulan and his people taking omens for the whole of the Kenyah contingent, while Juman went on to prepare the people of the Akar. In the course of the day Tama Bulan accompanied us on visits to several neighbouring Kenyah villages situated a little farther up the river. In the evening we had another convivial meeting with great flow of oratory and rice-spirit. On the third day, favourable omens having been observed, sacrifices of pigs and fowls were offered before the altar-posts of the war-god, and the various rites needful to complete the preparation for a long journey were performed (see Pl. 157). In the afternoon the Resident inspected the site for a bungalow or block-house which the Kenyahs proposed to make (and have since erected) for the use of the government's officers.

On October 23rd we left Tama Bulan's house with a party of about one hundred all told, in several boats. We were joined at Long Lutin by Laki Lah and a boatful of his Kayans, made a rapid passage to Long Pata (the spot where the Pata joins the Baram), and resumed the toilsome ascent of the main river to reach the Akar. That evening we reached a Kenyah village at Long Lawan, and as usual we were hospitably entertained with the fatted pig and brimming cups of rice-spirit. The weather was now brilliantly fine and the river of only normal swiftness, and we passed the night in a Kenyah house in the Akar. Here we spent two days awaiting the arrival of a party of Kayans from the upper Akar. The Kayans having arrived, another general discussion of the plan of operations was held; and on the third day the expedition returned to the Baram, and after surmounting the difficulties presented by many rapids and a narrow gorge at Batu Pita, entered the Silat on the 28th. The Silat is the uppermost of the large tributaries of the Baram (Pl. 200). It descends from the Madang country, winding round the foot of the Batu Tujoh, a limestone mountain of 5000 feet. All this country is at a considerable height above sea-level (1000 feet and more), and the climate is much cooler and more bracing than that of the lower levels. It is a land of many streams and hills. All the lower slopes have been cleared and cultivated by the Kenyahs, so that it presents a more open and smiling aspect than the lower country, where the clearings are but tiny islands in the vast ocean of gloomy forest. The river itself is even more beautiful than the other tributaries of the Baram, lovely as all these are in their upper reaches. This was not the first exploration of the Silat, for the Resident had twice before journeyed up its lower reaches; but on this occasion it was necessary to penetrate to its very head, in order to reach the villages of the principal Madang chiefs, Saba Irang and Tama Usun Tasi. So for five days the expedition toiled up the Silat, and during these days Juman, Laki Lah, and most of the Kayans turned back, their confidence being shaken by the unfamiliar aspect of the country, by the neighbourhood of the hitherto hostile Madangs, and by the bad dream of one of their chiefs and the illness of another. On the fifth day the diminished fleet of boats entered the Lata, a tributary coming down from the Mudong Alan and Saat mountains, from the slopes of which the water runs also to the Rejang River and the Batang Kayan. Here the boats were left behind and the expedition went forward on foot, making but slow progress in the rocky river-bed.

Near the mouth of the Lata the expedition was met by a large party of Kenyahs — men, women, and children — the whole population of a Kenyah village of the Batang Kayan, Lepu Agas by name, who had just arrived with the intention of making their home in that neighbourhood. These people had been the greatest enemies of Tama Bulan, and the feud had only been healed in the previous year.

A curious custom, which seems at the present time to be peculiar to the Kenyahs and rapidly dying out among them, was observed by the Lepu Aga people on this occasion. As the Resident's party approached the spot where they awaited its arrival, they sent out three men to establish the first contact. It was the function of these three men to make sure of the friendly intentions of the approaching party (Pls. 201, 202). They wore large wooden masks elaborately carved, and bearing great lateral projections like horns or antlers, in addition to full war dress.[215] They advanced down a long pebblebank, keeping step and making grotesque movements with heads and arms, which seemed to imply a mixture of caution and curiosity. After dodging about for some time, they came near and inquired: "Who are you? Whence do you come? What is your business?" Having obtained satisfactory assurances, they retreated, stepping backwards with the same grotesque gestures, and returned to report the results of their investigations to their chief.

Before friendly intercourse between the parties could begin it was still necessary, in view of the recent feud between them, that they should engage in a sham fight (JAWA). When this boisterous ceremony had been accomplished, the Resident presented to the Lepu Agas a number of presents, calculated to whet their appetite for the products of civilised industry to be found in the Baram bazaar. Very soon all suspicion and reserve were overcome, and all the men of the Resident's party turned to with hearty goodwill to help build a house for their former enemies. So well did they work that between sunrise and sunset a house of forty doors was hewn out of the forest, solidly constructed, and roofed; so that when night fell the new-comers were able to move in and to invite their helpers to a convivial meeting in its long gallery. The Resident made a speech in native fashion, saying that his party had ventured to build a rude hut in order to provide a night's shelter for their new friends, and hoped that they would find it sufficient for the moment. Tama Bulan also spoke, saying how now the old troubles were over, never to come again. Aban Jalong, the old chief of the Batang Kayan people, was so touched by these unwonted demonstrations of goodwill, that he wept and could with difficulty find words in which to express the gratitude of himself and his people. Through these people messages of goodwill and invitations to the proposed peace-making at Claudetown were sent to their former neighbours in the Batang Kayan, and these in due time bore good fruit. For in the course of the next few years several communities followed the example of the Lepu Agas, and moved over from the Batang Kayan to the Baram. It may be of interest to add that the Lepu Agas still inhabit the house built under these extraordinary circumstances. After some few more days of travelling up-river, we were met by a party of Madangs who had been sent down to meet the Resident; while awaiting his arrival they had hewed out a small boat, and in this, which served almost as much the purposes of a sledge as of a boat, they hauled him over rocks and rapids and still pools until, having outpaced the rest of the party, they brought him, on the eighth day from leaving the Silat, to their village at the foot of Mudong Alan. It was a large village comprising nine long houses disposed in a circle and containing probably not less than 2000 persons. Here he was received on the bank of the stream by a large body of Madangs headed by Tama Usun Tasi, who at once offered him the hospitality of his roof. The incidents of the visit have been described by the Resident, and passages from his account may here be transcribed: —

My Kenyah friends had not arrived yet, but I thought it best to go with him (Tama Usun Tasi) at once; afterwards I congratulated myself on my decision, when I found that, according to custom, Tama Bulan and his followers (being unable to enter the house until all cases of blood-money between his people and the Madangs had been settled) were obliged to camp near the river for one night. The Madangs assisted in making huts for my followers, gave them several pigs, and sent down their women laden with baskets full of rice; so no want of hospitality marred our reception. In the evening I took a walk round the village, followed by a crowd of women and children, who appeared greatly pleased to find that the white man was able to converse with them in the Kenyah tongue. Then, as the crowd increased, I sat down on a log and produced a few pounds of tobacco, and the whole party was soon chatting and laughing as if they had known me for years. I have often noticed that the women of the Kenyah tribe in the interior are far more genial and less shy than those of other communities, and I believe that the surest sign of the good faith of natives such as these is that the women and children come out to greet one unattended by the men. The sounds of our merriment soon attracted the attention of the men, and as they strolled over and joined us in gradually increasing numbers, the possibility of any disturbance taking place between these people and mine quickly vanished from my mind.

On the following morning several parties of Madangs from other villages came in, numbering in all about 600, and exchanged presents of weapons with my people. It was necessary that the gods should be consulted as to whether the meeting was really in the interests of peace or not. So a pig was caught and tied by the legs, and when all the Madangs were assembled in Tama Usun Tasi's house, the pig was brought in and placed in front of the chiefs. Then one of the head men from a neighbouring village took a lighted piece of wood and singed a few of the bristles of the pig, giving it a poke with his hand at the same time, as if to attract its attention, and calling in a loud voice to the supreme being, "Bali Penyalong." Then, talking at a great rate and hardly stopping for a moment to take breath, he asked that, if any one had evil intentions, the truth might be revealed before the evilly disposed one was allowed to enter the Madang houses, and that, if any Madang, whether related to him or not, wished to disturb the peace which was about to be made with the Baram people, his designs should be revealed. The old man stood waving his hands as if to sweep within the circle of his influence the whole of the assembled crowd, and then, jumping into the air with great violence, brought both feet down on the plank floor with a resounding thump; then, spinning round on one foot with his arm extended, he quickly altered the tone of his voice to a more gentle pitch, and, quivering with excitement, quietly sank down into his place amid a dead silence. The speech was a stirring one, and created an impression. Others spoke a few words to the pig, and it was then taken to one side and stabbed in the throat with a spear, after which the liver was taken out and examined. I should mention that a pig intended to serve the same purpose was provided by the Madangs for our people, who were still waiting to be invited to the house.

Having years before studied the beliefs of the natives with regard to divination by pigs' livers, and knowing the great importance attached to it, I was as anxious as any one to see the liver. I saw at a glance that the omen was good, and seized the opportunity to make the most of it. I quickly called the chiefs' attention to all the good points before they had given their own opinion, and at once saw that their interpretation was the same as my own, and that they were somewhat surprised to find it so.

Thereupon two messengers were sent backwards and forwards to discuss the number of people killed on either side from time to time, and big gongs, shields, and weapons of all kinds changed hands as blood-money. When all had been settled, notice was given to our people that the Madangs were ready to receive them into their houses, and the Baram people sent a message back that they were prepared to accept the invitation. When Kayans and Kenyahs who have been at feud desire to meet peaceably, it is necessary to go through a sort of sham fight, called JAWA, so that both parties can, as it were, blow off steam. As this ceremony is generally executed with much vigour by fully armed parties, it often happens that some people are badly hurt; and I was half afraid that such an accident might check the progress of our negotiations. But the omens had been favourable, and the implicit belief in such omens goes far to prevent bad feeling. About midday Tama Bulan and his followers, in full war costume, announced their intention of moving by bursting into the war-cry, a tremendous roar which was immediately answered by the people in the houses. The noise and excitement increased as the Baram people neared the house of Tama Usun Tasi, and guns with blank charges were fired. On came the Baram people, stamping, shouting, and waving their weapons in defiance, the Madangs in the houses keeping up a continuous roar. When the Baram people first attempted to enter the house, they were driven back, and a tremendous clashing of shields and weapons took place; then the Madangs retreated from the entrance in order to allow their visitors to come in, stamping and making the most deafening noise. When the Baram people had all entered, the Madangs once more rushed at them, and for some two minutes a rough-and-tumble fight continued, in which many hard blows were given. No one received a cut, however, except one man who, running against a spear, was wounded in the thigh; but the affair was quickly settled by the payment of a pig and a small spear to the wounded person; so the ceremony may be said to have ended without a mishap. When quiet had been restored, we all sat down and rice-spirit was produced, healths drunk, and speeches made; food was brought out and given to the visitors in the long verandah, as, on first being received, visitors are not allowed to enter the rooms; and the convivialities were prolonged far into the night.

In the evening of the following day the Madangs prepared a feast for all present, and afterwards a great deal of rice-spirit was drunk and some very good speeches made, former troubles and difficulties being explained and discussed in the most open manner. Each chief spoke in turn, and concluded his speech by offering drink to another and singing a few phrases in his praise, the whole assembly joining in a very impressive chorus after each phrase and ending up with a tremendous roar as the bamboo cup was emptied.

The following day the Madangs collected a quantity of rubber for their first payment of tribute to the government, namely, $2.00 per family, and as we had no means of weighing it except by guesswork, it was decided that Tama Bulan and two Madang headmen should act as assessors, and decide whether the piece of rubber brought by each person was sufficiently large to produce $2.00. It took these men the whole day to receive it all, and much counting was done on the fingers and toes.

On taking our departure from the Madang country, most of the women presented us with a small quantity of rice for food on our homeward journey, but as each little lot was emptied into a large basket, the giver took back a few grains so as not to offend the omen-birds, who had bestowed on them a bounteous harvest, by giving the whole away to strangers. Presents of considerable value were given on both sides, and all parted the best of friends. The two principal Madang chiefs accompanied us for a day's journey, their followers carrying the whole of our baggage. On parting I promised to arrange a similar peace-making at Claudetown, at which most of the Baram chiefs would be present.

We add an account of the peace-making previously published by one of us.[216]

The peace-making that I am going to describe was organised in order to bring together on neutral ground, and in presence of an overwhelming force of the tribes loyal to the government, all those tribes whose allegiance was still doubtful, and all those that were still actively hostile to one another, and to induce them to swear to support the government in keeping the peace, and to go through the formalities necessary to put an end to old blood-feuds. At the same time the Resident had suggested to the tribes that they should all compete in a grand race of war canoes, as well as in other races on land and water. For he wisely held that in order to suppress fighting and head-hunting, hitherto the natural avenues to fame for restless tribes and ambitious young men, it is necessary to replace them by some other form of violent competition that may in some degree serve as a vent for high spirits and superfluous energy; and he hoped to establish an annual gathering for boat racing and other sports, in which all the tribes should take part, a gathering on the lines of the Olympic games in fact. The idea Was taken up eagerly by the people, and months before the appointed day they were felling the giants of the forest and carving out from them the great war canoes that were to be put to this novel use, and reports were passing from village to village of the many fathoms length of this or that canoe, and the fineness of the timber and workmanship of another.

In order to make clear the course of events, I must explain that two large rivers, the Baram and the Tinjar, meet about one hundred miles from the sea to form the main Baram river. Between the peoples living on the banks of these two rivers and their tributaries there is a traditional hostility which just at this time had been raised to a high pitch by the occurrence of a blood-feud between the Kenyahs, a leading tribe of the Baram, and the Lirongs, an equally powerful tribe of the Tinjar. In addition to these two groups we expected a large party of Madangs, a famous tribe of fighting men of the central highlands whose hand had hitherto been against every other tribe, and a large number of Sea Dayaks, who, more than all the rest, are always spoiling for a fight, and who are so passionately devoted to head-hunting that often they do not scruple to pursue it in an unsportsmanlike fashion. So it will be understood that the bringing together in one place of large parties of fully armed warriors of all these different groups was a distinctly interesting and speculative experiment in peace-making.

The place of meeting was Marudi (Claudetown), the headquarters of the government of the district. There the river, still nearly a hundred miles from the sea, winds round the foot of a low flat-topped hill, on which stand the small wooden fort and court-house and the Resident's bungalow. Some days before that fixed for the great meeting by the tokens we had sent out, parties of men began to arrive, floating down in the long war canoes roofed with palm leaves for the journey. On the appointed day some five thousand of the Baram people and the Madangs were encamped very comfortably in leaf and mat shelters on the open ground between our bungalow and the fort, while the Sea Dayaks had taken up their quarters in the long row of Chinamen's shops that form the Marudi bazaar, the commercial centre of the district. But as yet no Tinjar folk had put in an appearance, and men began to wonder what had kept them — Were the tokens sent them at fault? Or had they received friendly warnings of danger from some of the many sacred birds, without whose favourable omens no journey can be undertaken? Or had they, perhaps, taken the opportunity to ascend the Baram and sack and burn the Kenyah houses now well nigh empty of defenders? We spent the time in foot-racing, preliminary boat-racing, and in seeing the wonders of the white man. For many of these people had not travelled so far downriver before, and their delight in the piano was only equalled by their admiration for that most wonderful of all things, the big boat that goes up stream without paddles, the Resident's fast steam-launch.

At last one evening, while we were all looking on at a most exciting practice-race between three of the canoes, the Lirongs, with the main mass of the Tinjar people, came down the broad straight reach. It was that most beautiful half-hour of the tropical day, between the setting of the sun and the fall of darkness — the great forest stood black and formless, while the sky and the smooth river were luminous with delicate green and golden light. The Lirongs were in full war dress, with feathered coats of leopard skin and plumed caps plaited of tough rattan, and very effective they were as they came swiftly on over the shining water, sixty to seventy warriors in each canoe raising their tremendous battle-cry, a deep-chested chorus of rising and falling cadences. The mass of men on the bank and on the hill took up the cry, answering shout for shout; and the forest across the river echoed it, until the whole place was filled with a hoarse roar. The Kenyahs ran hastily to their huts for their weapons, and by the time they had grouped themselves on the crest of the hill, armed with sword and shield and spear and deadly blowpipe, the Lirongs had landed on the bank below and were rushing up the hill to the attack. A few seconds more and they met with clash of sword and shield and a great shouting, and in the semi-darkness a noisy battle raged. After some minutes the Lirongs drew off and rushed back to their boats as wildly as they had come; and, strange to say, no blood was flowing, no heads were rolling on the ground, no ghastly wounds were gaping, in fact no one seemed any the worse. For it seems that this attack was merely a well understood formality, a put-up job, so to say. When two tribes, between whom there is a blood-feud not formally settled, meet together to make peace, it is the custom for the injured party, that is the tribe which has last suffered a loss of heads, to make an attack on the other party but using only the butt ends of their spears and the blunt edges of their swords. This achieves two useful ends-it lets off superabundant high spirits, which, if too much bottled up, would be dangerous; and it "saves the face" of the injured party by showing how properly wrathful and bellicose its feelings are. So when this formality had been duly observed everybody seemed to feel that matters were going on well; they all settled down quietly enough for the night, the Resident taking the precaution to send the Lirongs to camp below the fort; and the great peace-conference was announced to be held the following morning.

Soon after daybreak the people began to assemble beneath the great roof of palm-leaf mats that we had built for a conference hall. The Baram chiefs sat on a low platform along one side of the hall, and in their midst was Tama Bulan, the most famous of them all, a really great man who has made his name and influence felt throughout a very large part of Borneo. When all except the Tinjar men were assembled, of course without arms, the latter, also unarmed, came up the hill in a compact mass, to take their places in the hall. As they entered, the sight of their old enemies, the chiefs of the Baram, all sitting quietly together, was too much for their self-control; with one accord they made a mad rush at them and attempted to drag them from the platform. Fortunately we white men had placed ourselves with a few of the more reliable Dayak fortmen between the two parties, and partly by force and partly by eloquence we succeeded in beating off the attack, which seemed to be made in the spirit of a school "rag" rather than with bloody intent. But just as peace seemed restored, a great shout went up from the Baram men, "Tama Bulan is wounded"; and sure enough there he stood with blood flowing freely over his face. The sight of blood seemed to send them all mad together; the Tinjar people turned as one man and tore furiously down the hill to seize their weapons, while the Baram men ran to their huts and in a few seconds were prancing madly to and fro on the crest of the hill, thirsting for the onset of the bloody battle that now seemed a matter of a few seconds only. At the same time the Dayaks were swarming out of the bazaar seeking something to kill, like the typical Englishman, though not knowing which side to take. The Resident hastened after the Tinjars, threw himself before them, and appealed and threatened, pointing to the two guns at the fort now trained upon them; and Tama Bulan showed his true greatness by haranguing his people, saying his wound was purely accidental and unintended, that it was a mere scratch, and commanding them to stand their ground. Several of the older and steadier chiefs followed his example and ran to and fro holding back their men, exhorting them to be quiet.

The crisis passed, the sudden gust of passion slowly died away, and peace was patched up with interchange of messages and presents between the two camps. The great boat race was announced to take place on the morrow, and the rest of the day was spent in making ready the war canoes, stripping them of their leaf roofs and all other superfluous gear.

At daybreak the racing-boats set off for the startingpost four miles up river. The Resident had given strict orders that no spears or other weapons were to be carried in the racing-boats, and as they started up river we inspected the boats in turn, and in one or two cases relieved them of a full complement of spears; and then we followed them to the post in the steam-launch. There was a score of entries, and since each boat carried from sixty to seventy men sitting two abreast, more than a thousand men were taking part in the race. The getting the boats into line across the broad river was a noisy and exciting piece of work. We carried on the launch a large party of elderly chiefs, most. of whom were obviously suffering from "the needle," and during the working of the boats into line they hurled commands at them in language that was terrific in both quality and volume. At last something like a line was assumed, and on the sound of the gun the twenty boats leaped through the water, almost lost to sight in a cloud of spray as every one of those twelve hundred men struck the water for all he was worth. There was no saving of themselves; the rate of striking was about ninety to the minute, and tended constantly to increase. Very soon two boats drew out in front, and the rest of them, drawing together as they neared the first bend, followed hotly after like a pack of hounds. This order was kept all over the course. During the first burst our fast launch could not keep up with the boats, but we drew up in time to see the finish. It was a grand neck-and-neck race all through between the two leading boats, and all of them rowed it out to the end. The winners were a crew of the peaceful down-river folk, who have learnt the art of boat-making from the Malays of the coast; and they owed their victory to their superior skill in fashioning their boat, rather than to superior strength. When they passed the post we had an anxious moment — How would the losers take their beating? Would the winners play the fool, openly exulting and swaggering? If so, they would probably get their heads broken, or perhaps lose them. But they behaved with modesty and discretion, and we diverted attention from them by swinging the steamer round and driving her through the main mass of the boats. Allowing as accurately as possible for the rate of the current as compared with the rate of the tide at Putney, we reckoned the pace of the winning boat to be a little better than that of the 'Varsity eights in racing over the full course.

The excitement of the crowds on the bank was great, but it was entirely good-humoured — they seemed to have forgotten their feuds in the interest of the racing. So the Resident seized the opportunity to summon every one to the conference hall once more. This time we settled down comfortably enough and with great decorum, the chiefs all in one group at one side of a central space, and the common people in serried ranks all round about it. In the centre was a huge, gaily painted effigy of a hornbill, one of the birds sacred to all the tribes, and on it were hung thousands of cigarettes of home-grown tobacco wrapped in dried banana leaf. Three enormous pigs were now brought in and laid, bound as to their feet, before the chiefs, one for each of the main divisions of the people, the Barams, the Tinjars, and the hill-country folk. The greatest chiefs of each of these parties then approached the pigs, and each in turn, standing beside the pig assigned to his party, addressed the attentive multitude with great flow of words and much violent and expressive action; for many of these people are great orators. The purport of their speeches was their desire for peace, their devotion to the Resident ("If harm come to him, then may I fall too," said Tama Bulan), and their appreciation of the trade and general intercourse and safety of life and property brought them by the Rajah's government; and they hurled threats and exhortations against unlicensed warfare and bloodshed.

As each chief ended his speech to the people he turned to the pig at his feet, and, stooping over it, kept gently prodding it with a smouldering fire-brand, while he addressed to it a prayer for protection and guidance — a prayer that the spirit of the pig, soon to be set free by a skilful thrust of a spear into the beast's heart, should carry up to the Supreme Being. The answer to these prayers might then be read in the form and markings of the underside of the livers. So the pigs were despatched, and their livers hastily dragged forth and placed on platters before the group of chiefs. Then was there much anxious peering over shoulders, and much shaking of wise old heads, as the learned elders discussed the omens; until at last the Resident was called upon to give his opinion, for he is an acknowledged expert in augury. He was soon able to show that the only true and rational reading of the livers was a guarantee of peace and prosperity to all the tribes of the district; and the people, accepting his learned interpretation, rejoiced with one accord. Then the Resident made a telling speech, in which he dwelt upon the advantages of peace and trade, and how it is good that a man should sleep without fear that his house be burnt or his people slain; and he ended by seizing the nearest chief by the hair of his head, as is their own fashion, to show how, if a man break the peace, he shall lose his head.

This concluded the serious part of the conference, and it only remained to smoke the cigarettes of good fellowship, taken from the hornbill-effigy, and to drink long life and happiness to one another. So great jars of "arack" were brought in and drinking vessels, and each chief in turn, standing before some whilom enemy, sang his praises in musical recitative before giving him the cup; and after each phrase of the song the multitude joined in with a long-drawn sonorous shout, which, while the drink flowed down, rose to a mighty roar. This is a most effective way of drinking a man's health, and combines the advantages of making a speech over him and singing "For he's a jolly good fellow"; moreover, the drink goes to the right party, as it does not with us. It should be adopted in this country, I think. By many repetitions of this process we were soon reduced to a state of boisterous conviviality; and many a hard-faced old warrior, who but the day before had drawn his weapons against his enemy, now sat with his arms lovingly thrown about that same enemy. When this state of affairs was reached, our work seemed to be accomplished, and we white men retired to lunch, leaving one chief in the midst of a long-winded speech. As soon as the restraint of the Resident's presence was removed, the orator began to utter remarks of a nature to stir up the dying embers of resentment; at least so it seemed to one wily old chief, a firm supporter of the government, who bethought him to send one of his men to pull away the palm-leaf mats from above the indiscreet orator, and so leave his verbosity exposed to the rays of the mid-day sun. No sooner said than done, and this was the beginning of the end; for others following suit made a rush for the mats that would be so useful in making their camps and boats more rain-proof. There was a mighty uproar that brought us headlong to the scene, only to see the big hall melt away like a snowflake as hundreds of hands seized upon the mats and bore them away in triumph. So the great peace conference was brought to an end amid much laughter and fun.

It only remained for the chiefs to pay in the taxes for the year — the two dollars per family which it is their business to collect from their people, and which is the only tax or tribute claimed by the Rajah. This business was got through on the following morning; and then we said many kind farewells, as the various parties set out one after another in the great war canoes on their long up-stream journey; some of them to battle for many days against the swiftly flowing river, and after that again for many days to pole their boats through the flashing rapids and over the lovely quiet reaches, where the rare gleams of sunlight break through the overarching forest; until, coming to their own upland country, where anxious wives and children are waiting, they will spread even in the remotest highlands the news of the white man's big boat that goes of itself against the stream, of the great boat-race, and of how they came wellnigh to a fearful slaughtering, and how they swore peace and goodwill to all men, and how there should be now peace and prosperity through all the land, for the great white man who had come to rule them had said it should be so, and the gods had approved his words.

The foregoing account of the journey to the Madang country and of the subsequent events would constitute the last chapter of any history of the pacification of the Baram. Since the time of those incidents, there has been no serious disturbance of the peace; and there seems to be good reason to hope that, so long as the Rajah's government continues to be conducted along the same lines, there will be no recrudescence of savagery. The last case of fighting on any considerable scale occurred in 1894, when Tama Bulan's people, resenting the offensive conduct of bands of Sea Dayaks who had penetrated to their neighbourhood in search of jungle-products, turned out and took the heads of thirteen of the Dayaks. It was only after prolonged negotiation that the Dayaks were persuaded to resign their hopes of a bloody revenge and to accept a compensation of 3000 dollars, which was paid by the Kenyahs at the Rajah's order.

It has not always been possible to make peace prevail by wholly peaceable procedures. The Baram was fortunate in that the Sea Dayaks had not established themselves anywhere within its borders. In the Rejang, on the other hand, large numbers of them were allowed to settle, coming in from the Saribas and the Batang Lupar in the early days of the Rajah's government. And since the Kayans and Kenyahs were already in possession of the upper river and considered themselves the dominant tribes and lords of the land, it was inevitable that there should grow up a keen rivalry which could hardly fail to lead occasionally to armed conflict. For the Sea Dayaks had been accustomed to adopt a somewhat swaggering and domineering attitude towards the Klemantan tribes, and could not easily learn to modify it when they came in contact with the prouder and less submissive Kayans and Kenyahs. This rivalry has been the source of most of the troubles of the Rejang, where, since the big expedition of 1863, the Rajah and his officers have on several occasions found it necessary to subdue recalcitrant tribes or communities by leading armed forces against them.

As an illustration of these sterner methods we add a brief account of one such expedition led by one of us (C. H.) in the year 1904, in his capacity of Divisional Resident of the several Rejang districts; an expedition which, there is reason to hope, may prove to be the last of the series. The purpose of this expedition was to reduce to order a small community of Sea Dayaks that was established upon Bukit Batu, an almost impregnable mountain which rises up almost perpendicularly on all sides at the head of the Bali, one of the eastern tributaries of the Rejang. This community had been formed in the manner to which legend assigns the foundation of ancient Rome, namely, by the gathering together in this strong place of various outlaws and violent characters who for one reason or another had quarrelled with and defied the government. The same spot had been similarly occupied many years before; and though it had been forcibly cleared of its defenders, its natural advantages had, in the course of years, led to the growth of a new community of the same kind.

This band had raided the surrounding country, slaying and robbing people of several tribes, and generally had been having a "gorgeous time." They had repeatedly refused to yield even when threatened by armed force. And when the Resident sent them a peremptory message, commanding them to appear to surrender themselves at the nearest government station within one month, they returned an impudent answer, saying that they had so far accepted orders from no one, and asking — Who was he that they should obey him? Steps were at once taken to enforce obedience. Since to storm the hill might well cost many lives, it seemed preferable to try to lure its defenders from their stronghold. The Resident, without giving the brigands further warning, went up the Rejang with a single boat's crew to a point about 150 miles above the mouth of the Bali, the tributary that flows past Bukit Batu. At this point another tributary, the Bukau, coming from near the opposite side of Bukit Batu, joins the Rejang. Here he collected a force of some 200 Kayans and Klemantans, and led them up to the head of the Bukau and then on foot through the jungle to the neighbourhood of Bukit Batu. The route by which the brigands usually passed to and from their fastness was at a spot near the river, where rude ladders of wood and rattan had been fixed to facilitate the ascent and descent of the precipitous foot of the hill. Near this spot the force was divided into two parties, which were stationed in the jungle at some little distance from the ladders, right and left of the path to the river; and a party of ten active men was detached, with instructions to hang about the foot of the ladders and to retreat along the path to the river if they were attacked. On the second day the Ibans on the mountain snapped at the bait. About forty of them descended stealthily and then rushed upon the small party, hoping to hunt down in the jungle all whom they could not strike down on the spot, and thus to secure ten heads and enjoy the frenzy of slaughter. The ten decoys fled swiftly down the path, and the supporting parties, guided by the yells of the Ibans, closed in from both sides and fell upon them. A few of the rebels were killed, without any fatal casualties to the Resident's party. The rest fled through the jungle and many of them were afterwards arrested. Those who remained on the hill promptly drew up the ladders and hurled down rocks. To have carried the hill by storm would still have been most difficult and costly, and, as it proved, a needless feat. The Resident therefore contented himself with destroying all the property of the brigands that was within reach, including a number of valuable jars and gongs which they had secreted in a cave at the foot of the hill, and the fields of young PADI on which they were largely dependent for their food-supply. For he well knew that this procedure would render the spot hateful to the Ibans; for the scene of a disaster, especially one where they have been worsted in fight, becomes an object of superstitious dread. The Resident therefore led back his party by the way they had come, dismissed them to their homes, and returned down river to Sibu, after sending a command to those remaining on the hill that they should present themselves forthwith at Kapit. The order was obeyed; fines, pledges, and compensations to relatives of their victims were paid in; and the principal men were ordered to reside for a year in the neighbourhood of Sibu Fort and afterwards to return to their native districts.

It should be added that these Ibans frankly acknowledged that the Resident had been too clever for them, and that they bore him no ill-will; and that some of them, accompanying him on later excursions, proved themselves willing helpers and agreeable companions.

Other and larger expeditions of armed forces have in the past been led against tribes or villages, generally on account of their having refused to surrender to the government members guilty of taking heads or of attacking other villages wantonly and without permission. In all cases the government officers have relied almost exclusively upon the services of bodies of natives under the immediate charge of their own chiefs and armed only with their native weapons. In some cases the offending parties have fled from their villages without offering active resistance; and in these cases the government force has usually been content to inflict punishment by burning down their houses and taking what property was left in them.

It is perhaps too much to hope that no cases of taking heads or of wanton attack on jungle parties or on weak villages will ever again occur. But such incidents have become very infrequent and the offenders have seldom escaped punishment; for, unlike our own population, many thousands of whom live detached from all local bonds as isolated floating units unknown to the government and to those among whom they dwell, every man in Sarawak, with the partial exception of the nomad jungle-dwellers, is a member of some local group which is held responsible by the government for his good behaviour; thus in every district every man is known, if not as an individual, at least as a member of some community; and every stranger (or party of strangers) is expected to be able to give a satisfying account of himself; and any who wish to work in the jungle of any district other than their own are required to have government permission. It is thus impossible for any criminal to conceal himself for any length of time from the government; and so sure is it of effecting arrest, when necessary, that accused persons are frequently allowed to attend to their farms and follow their ordinary occupations pending the time of their trial. Even when a man accused of a serious offence flees across the border to Dutch territory, he is generally apprehended by the Dutch officers sooner or later and sent round to Kuching by sea.

The raising of the taxes from the people to defray the expenses of government has raised no difficulties. The door-tax of two dollars[217] per door (I.E. per family or household) is the only direct tax laid on the tribes. When once the initial reluctance has been overcome, this has been collected and regularly paid in by chiefs and PENGHULUS, including the headmen of the nomad groups. In times of misfortune, whether individual or collective, such as the loss of crops or of a house by fire, the tax is remitted; and no tax is expected from men over sixty years of age, from cripples or invalids, or from widows.

The Sea Dayaks alone pay a door-tax of one dollar only, it having been understood from the early days, when they were the only fighting tribe with which the Rajah was intimately acquainted, that they are liable at any time to be called upon by the government to render assistance in punitive expeditions or in other public works, such as procuring timber for government buildings. But this holds good only for those who remain in the districts in which they have long been settled.

The sum raised by direct taxation forms now but a small part of the total revenue of the State of Sarawak; for the development of trade and agriculture, especially the cultivation of pepper and sago and rubber, and the growing capacity and facilities for the purchase of imported goods by the people even of the remotest parts, enable the government to raise a considerable revenue by indirect taxation in the form of customs duties.

The minerals, worked in the main by the Borneo Company,[218] principally gold, antimony, and mercury, have also been an important source of revenue. The recent discovery of supplies of petroleum promises to result in an important addition to the wealth of the country.[219] But these various commercial and industrial developments affect hardly at all the lives of the pagan tribes, So far as they are concerned, the work of the government may be summed up by saying that it has suppressed the chronic warfare which kept them all in a state of armed hostility and uneasy distrust of one another; that it has suppressed head-hunting and crimes of violence, has rendered life and property secure, and has administered justice with a firm hand and a strict regard to the customs and traditional sentiments of the people; that it has wellnigh extinguished slavery; that it has opened the whole country to trade, and, by thus improving the facilities for sale of the jungle produce, has increased the purchasing power of the people, while bringing within the reach of all of them the products of civilised industry that they most value; and that while it has strictly regulated the sale of those products, such as fire-arms and strong liquor, which have proved detrimental to so many other peoples of the lower culture, it has encouraged the people to cultivate a greater variety of vegetable products, especially sago, coconuts, pepper, and rubber, and to improve the methods of cultivation of PADI. Lastly, the government has rendered possible the establishment of a number of excellent mission schools in older stations, where considerable numbers of children of the pagan tribes have been made Christians and trained to fill subordinate posts in the administrative service, or to return to leaven the native villages with a wider knowledge and a better understanding of the principles which underlie the white man's conduct and culture. The missionaries have exerted also among the Sea Dayaks a strong influence making for peace and order; but they have hardly yet come into contact with Kayans or Kenyahs. Mention must also be made of the Malay schools which the government has instituted and supported in the principal stations, and in which many young Malays receive the elements of a useful education.

In all its undertakings the success of the government has only been rendered possible by the high prestige that the white man everywhere enjoys; and this in turn has been acquired and maintained, not so much by his command of the mechanical resources of western civilisation, as by the fact that, with very few exceptions, the white men with whom the natives have had intercourse have been English gentlemen, animated by the spirit and example of the two white Rajahs, and keenly conscious of their individual and collective responsibility as representatives of their race and country in a foreign land.[220]

We have dwelt at some length on the government of the Rajah of Sarawak in its relation with the pagan tribes, and, if we dismiss in a few words the administrative labours of the Dutch and of the British North Borneo Company in their respective territories, it is not because we regard those labours as of less interest and importance or as less successful, but because in the main they have run on similar lines and have achieved similar results to those of the government of Sarawak, of which alone we have intimate knowledge. Dutch Borneo comprises roughly two-thirds of the whole island, a very large territory which comprises the basins of the largest rivers and hence, the rivers being the only highways, the most inaccessible parts of the island. The Kapuas River, for example, is estimated to be nearly 700 miles in length; and the necessity of ascending these hundreds of miles of river-way, much of it difficult and dangerous, has rendered the process of establishing control over the tribes of the interior slow and laborious. For this reason the process is not yet completed; although the Dutch have had stations in Borneo since the early years of the seventeenth century, when they expelled the Portuguese from Bruni and Sambas. But it was not until 1785 that they came into possession of any considerable territory, namely, the Sultanate of Banjermasin, and not till after the return to them of their East Indian rights in 1816 that they extended their territorial possessions to their present large proportions.

The Dutch settlement and possessions in Borneo were for many years administered by traders and a trading company whose prime object was, of course, profitable trade. The problems of native administration no doubt seemed to them at first of minor importance and interest, and they made many mistakes.[221] But, as with our own great company in India, it became increasingly necessary, if only for the sake of trade, to study the art and policy of administering the affairs of the native population. This has now been done to good effect, and, stimulated possibly by the example of wise paternal government afforded by the Rajahs of Sarawak, the Dutch have established a system of Residents or district officers who have successfully invoked the co-operation of the native chiefs in a manner very similar to that practised in the neighbouring state. And the Dutch officers have of late years shown themselves willing and able effectively to co-operate with those of Sarawak in all matters of common interest, especially in the settlement of troubles on the boundary between their territories. The enlightened interest of the Dutch Government in the welfare of the tribes of the far interior and in the promotion of ethnographical knowledge has been strikingly manifested in the opening years of this century by the despatch of two successive expeditions, under the leadership of Dr. Nieuwenhuis, to study the people, their customs and conditions, and by its generous expenditure upon the publication of the handsome volumes in which he has embodied his valuable reports.[222] On the second journey this intrepid traveller penetrated to the head of the Batang Kayan, and there made the acquaintance of the same Kenyahs who had recently visited the Resident of the Baram. In this way the spheres of Dutch and of British influence have been made to overlap in these central highlands.

The Physical Characters of the Races and Peoples of Borneo

A. C. Haddon

Introduction

The following sketch of the races and peoples of Borneo is based upon the observations of the Cambridge Expedition to Sarawak in 1899 and those of Dr. A. W. Nieuwenhuis in his expeditions to Netherlands Borneo in 1894, 1896 — 1897, and 1898 — 1900 (QUER DURCH BORNEO, Leiden, vol. i., 1904, vol. ii., 1907).

It is generally acknowledged that in Borneo, as in other islands of the East Indian Archipelago, the Malays inhabit the coasts and the aborigines the interior, though in some these reach the coast while Malayised tribes have pushed inland up the rivers, a sharp distinction between the two being frequently obliterated where they overlap. The condition, however, is much more complicated as we can now distinguish at least two main races among the aborigines.

We have no evidence as to who were the primitive inhabitants of Borneo. One would expect to find Negritos in the interior, as these black, woolly-haired pygmies inhabit the Andamans, parts of the Malay Peninsula, Sumatra, the Philippines, New Guinea, and possibly Melanesia. No authoritative evidence of their occurrence in Borneo is forthcoming, and one can confidently assert that there are no Negritos in Sarawak. Nor are there any traces of Melanesians. It is generally admitted that, assuming the Australians to be mainly of that race, a Pre-Dravidian element should occur in the Archipelago, and the cousins Sarasin have noted this strain among the Toalas of Celebes and Moszkowski among the Batins of Sumatra; in this connection it is of interest that Nieuwenhuis discovered ten Ulu Ayars and two Punans with straight hair and a "black or blue-black" skin colour; Kohlbrugge,[223] who records this observation, offers no explanation.

Dr. E. T. Hamy in 1877 recognised a primitive element in the Malay Archipelago, for which he adopted the term Indonesian, a name previously invented by Logan for the non-Malay population of the East Indian Archipelago. De Quatrefages and Hamy further established this stock in their CRANIA ETHNICA (1882), and de Quatrefages in his HISTOIRE GENERALE DES RACES HUMAINES (1889) boldly states that these high- and narrow-headed peoples are "un des rameaux de la branche blanche allophyle" (L.C. pp. 515, 521). Keane terms the Indonesians "the pre-Malay Caucasic element in Oceania" (MAN PAST AND PRESENT, 1899, p. 231). Various investigators[224] have studied skulls obtained from this region which prove the wide extension of dolichocephaly. Kohlbrugge (1898), who investigated the Teriggerese, Indonesian mountaineers of Java, says: "Les Indonesiens sont dolichocephales, les Malais brachycephales ou hyperbrachycephales. Le sang indonesien se decele donc par la longueur de la tete: plus celle-ci se rapproche du type dolichocephale, plus pur est le sang indonesien." Volz confirms Hagen's observations of the existence among the Battak of North Sumatra of two types, a dolichocephalic Indonesian and a brachycephalic type.

The term Indonesian may now be regarded as definitely restricted to a dolichocephalic, and the term Proto-Malay to a brachycephalic race, of which the true Malays (Orang Malayu) are a specialised branch.

The next point to discuss is the presence of these two races in Borneo. The Dutch Expedition found three distinct types in the interior of Netherlands Borneo, the Ulu Ayars (Ulu Ajar)[225] or Ot Danum of the upper Kapuas, the Bahau-Kenyahs (Bahau-Kenja) of the middle or upper Mahakam (or Kotei) and the upper waters of the rivers to the north, and the Punans, nomadic hunters living in the highlands about the head-waters of the great rivers. The first of these may be classed as predominantly Indonesian and the others as mainly Proto-Malay in origin. According to Nieuwenhuis the Bahaus and Kenyahs both remember that they came from Apo Kayan at the headwaters of the Kayan river; they were formerly known as the Pari tribes. In all the tribes of this group the social organisation is in the main similar, and this affinity is borne out by their material culture, thus they may be regarded as originally one people. Tribes calling themselves Bahau now live along the Mahakam above Mujub and include one Kayan group; on the upper Rejang are Bahau tribes under the name of Kayan, and a small section has advanced into the Kapuas area and settled on the Mendalam which again includes Kayans and kindred tribes. All the tribes still in Apo Kayan call themselves Kenyah, as also those of the eastward flowing Tawang, Berau and Kayan (or Bulungan) rivers and those of the upper Limbang and Baram flowing northwards. The Kenyahs of Apo Kayan live along the Iwan, a tributary of the Kayan river (or Bulungan); to the north-east is another tributary called the Bahau which seems to have been the original home of the Bahau people since the tribes of Borneo habitually take their names from the rivers along which they live.[226]

Nieuwenhuis came to the conclusion that the three chief tribes measured by him represented three main groups of the population of Central Borneo, physically and culturally. Mr. E. B. Haddon drew attention (MAN, 1905 No. 13, p. 22) to the close similarity of the results published by Kohlbrugge (1903) with those published by me (1901). I recognised five main groups of peoples in Sarawak: Punan, Klemantan (or, as Dr. Hose and I then spelled it, Kalamantan), Kenyah-Kayan, Iban or Sea Dayak, and Malay. The Ibans are not referred to by either of the Dutch ethnologists, who, like myself, merely alluded to the Malay element. Kohlbrugge and I included the Bakatan or Beketan and the Ukit or Bukat in the Punan group, and also bracketed together the Kayans and Kenyahs. In Sarawak there are numerous and often small tribes which it is frequently very difficult or quite impossible to differentiate from one another, although the extremes of the series can be distinguished; we therefore decided to comprehend them under the non-committal term of Klemantan (p. 42). I showed that they were of mixed origin, and stated that, "It is possible that the Kalamantans were originally a dolichocephalic people who mixed first with the indigenous brachycephals (Punan group) and later with the immigrant brachycephals (Kenyah-Kayan group) or the Kalamantans may have been a mixed people when they first arrived in Borneo and subsequently increased their complexity by mixing with these two groups" (L.C. p. 352). I also made it clear that I regarded the dolichocephalic element as of Indonesian stock and the brachycephalic of Proto-Malayan origin. It was with great satisfaction that I found Kohlbrugge had come to similar conclusions and that the Ulu Ayars exhibit such strong traces of an Indonesian origin, stronger perhaps than those of any tribe in Sarawak, with the possible exception of the scarcely studied Muruts and allied tribes.

Kohlbrugge states (1903, p. 2) that he has shown for the interior of Sumatra, Java, and Celebes that there are mesaticephalic peoples distinct in other respects from the coast peoples, but not dolichocephalic. He concludes that the (Ulu Ayar) Dayaks, being the only dolichocephals, are the only pure Indonesians, and the rest (Kayans and Punans) are more or less mixed with Malays. The mean cephalic index of 130 Tenggerese of the interior of Java is 79.7, but the Ulu Ayars constitute a uniform group which ranges from 7 1 to 81.4, of which 9 are 74 or under and 9 are between 74.1 and 76 inclusive, the median of 26 adult males being 74.7.[227] [Although the median Kalabit index in the living subject is somewhat higher, that of the skulls, as well as the cranial index of Muruts and Trings (Table C), is very similar in this respect to that of the Ulu Ayars.]

According to Nieuwenhuis' statistics, as given by Kohlbrugge, there is in the brachycephalic group (Kayans and Punans) a greater range (75 to 93.3, and 1 Kayan woman reaches 97) than in the Ulu Ayars; most fall between 78 and 85, the medians of both being just over 81. There are 8 dolichocephals[228] out of his 43 Kayan men and 4 out of his 25 women, but only I Punan out of 14. In his curve of the Kayan indices there is a drop at 82

A comparison is also possible between the bi-zygomatic breadths made by Nieuwenhuis and ourselves. The figures are those of the minimum, median, and maximum. KAYANS (43 [male], N) 126, 139, 153 ; (25 [female], N) 125, 132, 141; (21 [male], H) 132, 141, 150. PUNANS (14 [ERROR: unhandled ♂], N) 132, 138, 145; (19 [male], H) 130, 142, 154. ULU AYARS (26 [male], N) 12 5, 136, 145. LAND DAYAKS (42 [male], S) 122, 136, 145.

Kohlbrugge points out that there seems to be no ground for dividing the "Indonesians" into a taller and shorter group since the differences are slight. If this distinction were drawn, the Ulu Ayars (av. 1.571 m., med. 1.551 m.) would belong to the shorter group as would the Enganese (av. 1.570 m.). His 34 Kayan men (av. 1.584 m., med. 1.582 m.) and 14 Punan men (av. 1.583 m., med. 1.569 m.) and the Gorontalese (1.584 m.) are intermediate between these and the Tenggerese (1.604 m.) and Battak (1.605). I also find this distinction untenable, as our Kayans (av. 1.559 m., med. 1.550 m.) and Punans (av. 1.555 m., med. 1.550 m.) are of the same stature or even possibly shorter than his Ulu Ayars, whereas our 16 Kenyah men (av. 1.597 m., med. 1.608) are taller than his Kayans. He adds that the shorter "Indonesians" live in the plains, the taller in the mountains, but he cannot say for certain whether a mountain climate affects stature as many believe. It is to be regretted that Kohlbrugge extends in this instance the term Indonesian to the Kayans and Punans. Taking our measurements I find that the Kenyahs and the Muruts (av. 1.601 m., med. 1.590 m.) are the tallest groups, then come the Iban (av. 1.590 m., med. 1.585 m.), the Kayan and Punan medians come about half-way between the tallest Klemantans (Long Pokun, med. 1.590 m.) and the shortest (Lerong, med. 1.520 m). The above figures refer to men only, the women are markedly shorter.

Kohlbrugge gives the following information with regard to body measurements: the Kayan women are 14 cm. shorter than the men, usually the difference is 10 — 12 cm. The span is greater than the stature, the proportion is 105.2 : 100 in Kayans, 1034: 100 in Ulu Ayars and 106.5 : 100 in Punans and Tenggerese. In youths it is rather higher than in men. The difference between Tenggerese and Ulu Ayars is due to the latter having shorter arms, especially the upper arms, and the chest of the Bornean peoples is 2 cm. narrower. Other Indonesian peoples have a longer upper arm than the Ulu Ayars, who also have the tibia shorter in proportion to the femur. Kayan and Ulu Ayar men have a comparatively shorter femur than the Punan. The latter thus resemble the Tenggerese, the others have the same relative length as many other peoples of the Archipelago; there is no difference between the Malays and Indonesians in this respect. The Kayan women have relatively a much longer femur than the men. The shorter tibia makes the whole leg of the Bornean peoples shorter than in others — except that the Punans make it up with a longer femur. Women and young people have longer legs than men. The Punans have the fattest calves approximating to the Tenggerese, the other Bornean tribes are more like the Gorontalese. The chest girth of Ulu Ayars and Tenggerese is almost the same, despite the difference in the breadth of the chest, in which the Ulu Ayars resemble the inhabitants of Atchin measured by Lubbers. The proportion of the length of the foot to the stature is 16 : 100 in Kayans of both sexes, 154 : 100 in Ulu Ayars, and 15.2 in Punans. But the Kayan feet are shorter than those of the Gorontalese, who have the longest feet in the Archipelago. The other Bornean peoples are the same as Indonesians who resemble the Malays in this respect. The pelvic breadth of the Kayan men and women is equal (26 cm.), though men have the wider chest; the Punan pelvis is narrower than in the other two tribes; but in all three the pelvis is broader than in the Tenggerese.

We must now turn to the evidence of the crania, of which only a very brief account need be presented here. Owing to the fact that the people are head-hunters the skulls obtained by a traveller in any house are necessarily those of another community, group, or tribe than that to which the occupants of the house belong. Consequently it is necessary for a traveller to learn from the inhabitants the provenience of each cranium, and every one in the house knows it. It is useless for analytical purposes to deal with skulls of which the tribe is not accurately known; the information that a skull was obtained in a certain village or on a particular river is, as a rule, of very little value.

In Table C I give particulars of three head indices of 83 crania, of which the history is known in each case. Fifty-eight of these have been presented by Dr. Hose to the University of Cambridge. I have added to these 5 Murut, 1 Lepu Potong, 1 Kalabit, 1 Tring, 1 Bisaya, and 1 Orang Bukit, which Dr. Hose presented to the Royal College of Surgeons, London, 1 Ukit skull in the same museum, 3 Dusun in the British Museum, and 5 Murut, 3 Maloh, and 3 Kayan, which I measured in Sarawak. I have chosen the cranial length-breadth, length-height, and breadth-height indices, as these are more directly comparable with the corresponding cephalic indices of Table A. A detailed account of these crania must await a more suitable occasion.

The dolichocephalic crania are, as a rule, distinctly akrocephalic, that is, the length-height index is superior to the length-breadth index, but this is not the case with the brachycephals. I find the average length-height index in the living subject of a dozen inland tribes is 72.5 for 131 males and 78.2 for 40 females. That is, so far as our measurements go, the women are more akrocephalic than the men, which is unusual.

The conclusions to be drawn from a somatological investigation are necessarily limited. In my introductory remarks I stated that one could distinguish two main races among the principal groups of the peoples of Sarawak, a dolichocephalic and a brachycephalic, and that the former might be termed Indonesian and the latter Proto-Malay; further, no one group is probably of pure race, though it appears that some may be predominantly Indonesian and others Proto-Malay. I do not for a moment suggest that there was one migration of pure Indonesians and another of pure Proto-Malays which flooded Borneo and by various minglings produced the numerous tribes of that island, though I do suggest that there have been throughout the whole Archipelago various movements of peoples, some of which may have been relatively pure communities of these two races. There can be little doubt that we must look to the neighbouring regions of the mainland of Asia for their immediate point of departure southwards, for we now know that two similar races have inhabited this area from a remote antiquity. The light- (or light-brown) skinned dolichocephals of south-east Asia, assuming for the present that they are all of one race, have frequently been termed Caucasians — for the present I prefer to speak of them as Indonesians — and of these there are doubtless several strains. The light- (or light-brown) skinned brachycephals are usually grouped as Southern Mongols. In the south-east corner of Asia there are probably several strains of these brachycephals which hitherto have been insufficiently studied. Even when an Indonesian element has been recognised in the population of the Archipelago there has been too persistent a practice of terming the brachycephalic element "Malay." The true Malay, Orang Malayu, is merely a specialised branch of a stock for which I prefer the non-committal name of Proto-Malay, even "Southern-Mongol" is preferable to "Malay." The Proto-Malay race has its roots on the mainland. It has yet to be shown how far the brachycephals of this region belong to what is here termed the Proto-Malay race or to what extent other, and doubtless allied, stocks are implicated. If, as is very probable, there have been migrations of differentiated peoples from the mainland into the islands, the Bornean peoples may be of more complex origin than the earlier generalisations might suggest. The dissecting out and the tracing of the migrations of these peoples is the work of ethnography, somatology can be of little assistance; all that I have done is to provide a certain amount of material for the use of students in the future. It must also be remembered that the immigrants from the mainland may have had at one time infusions of Negrito or Pre-Dravidian (Sakai) blood, not to speak of Tibetan, Chinese, or other mixtures. Similarly when the first migrations from the mainland took place the fairer-skinned immigrants probably found an indigenous population of Negritos, Pre-Dravidians, and possibly to some extent of Papuans in various parts of the Archipelago. We know that many of the islands, including Borneo, have been subject to direct migrations from India and China, and there has doubtless been a certain amount of movement of peoples from island to island. The racial history of this region is therefore extremely complex.

Dr. Hose has suggested the following classification[229] of the peoples of Sarawak (exclusive of the Malays), which I have followed in arranging the descriptions given below. For the sake of comparison I have recast the data published by Kohlbrugge concerning the three types studied by Nieuwenhuis; it is unfortunate that our several results cannot be more closely correlated.

A Classification of the Peoples of Sarawak

1. Murut Group:

Murut, Pandaruan, Tagal, Dusun;
Kalabit, Lepu Potong;
Adang, Tring.

II. Klemantan Group:

1. South-western Group:

Land Dayaks;
[Certain tribes of Netherlands Borneo];
Maloh.

2. Central Group:

A. Baram sub-group: Bisaya, Tabun, Orang Bukit,
Kadayan, Pliet, Long Pata, Long Akar.
B. Barawan sub-group: Murik, Long Julan, Long Ulai,
Batu Blah, Long Kiput, Lelak, Barawan, Sakapan,
Kajaman.
C. Bakatan sub-group: Seping, Tanjong, Kanawit,
Bakatan, Lugat.

3. Sebop Group:

Malang, Tabalo, Long Pokun, Sebop, Lerong;
Milanau (including Narom and Miri).

III. Punan Group:

Punan, Ukit, Siduan, Sigalang.

IV. Kenyah Group:

Madang, Long Dallo, Apoh, Long Sinong, Long Lika Bulu,
Long Tikan.

V. Kayan Group.
VI. Iban Group: Iban (Sea Dayaks) and Sibuyau.

Descriptions of Peoples

General Remarks on the Methods of Taking Observations

The physical characters and measurements of each individual were noted on a separate card, and the bulk of them have been embodied in the following synopses. As my object has been to give a general impression of each group, I have not burdened the descriptions with superfluous scattered observations. The original records are available in Cambridge for any desirous of consulting them. The statistics given refer to the several recorded observations; where these fall short of the total number it may be taken for granted that as a rule the remainder did not depart markedly from the normal standard of the group in question — the presence of salient characters would be noted, not their absence.

In Table A certain measurements and indices are given of the more important groups in order to facilitate comparisons. Very small groups and half-breeds have been omitted, the object being to summarise the characters of the adults of the larger groups. The median in most cases is practically identical with the average, but where a difference occurs, the median more nearly represents the central type. The indices are based on a calculation to two decimal places; where the second decimal place is under five it is left out of account, and where five or over the first decimal place is augmented by one. This table should be compared with Table C.

In the other tables all the measurements and indices are given.

HEAD: LENGTH, from glabella to most prominent point of occiput; BREADTH, maximum at right angles to above; BI-AURIC BREADTH, from base of the tragus, pressing firmly; CIRCUMFERENCE, greatest circumference immediately above the glabella; AURICULAR VERTICAL ARC, from base of tragus over the vertex; AURICULAR RADII taken with a Cunningham's radiometer from the ear-hole. FACE: TOTAL LENGTH, from nasion to chin; UPPER LENGTH, from nasion to alveolus; BI-ZYGOMATIC BREADTH, from greatest prominence of cheek arches, pressing firmly; INTER-OCULAR WIDTH, between inner angles of the eyes; BI-GONIAL BREADTH, from the angle of the lower jaw, pressing firmly. NOSE: LENGTH, from nasion to angle with lip; BREADTH, between outer curvature of alae, without pressure; BI-MALAR BREADTH, from the outer upper corner of the margin of the orbit, pressing firmly (this was usually marked with a soft pencil); NASO-MALAR LINE, between these points over the bridge of the nose.

The term DOLICHOCEPHALIC is used to designate a cephalic index of 77.9 and under, and BRACHYCEPHALIC one of 78 and over. Heads with a length-height index of 66.9 and under are PLATYCEPHALIC, those of 67 — 69.9 are MESOCEPHALIC, and those of 70 and over are HYPSICEPHALIC. The breadth-height limits are 82.9, 83 — 84.9, and 85. The term CHAMAEPROSOPIC is used where the total facial index is 89.9 and under, and LEPTOPROSOPIC where it is 90 and over, the corresponding limit for the upper facial index is -49.9 and 50+. Owing to the character of the nose it was not easy in most cases to ascertain the exact upper limit of the length, and it is probably owing to this that the indices show such marked platyrhiny. Unfortunately these indices cannot be compared with those obtained by Nieuwenhuis, as he measured to the tip of the nose and not to its angle with the lip as we did. The term LEPTORHINE is used for noses with an index of 69.9 and under, MESORHINE for 70 — 84.9, PLATYRHINE for 85 — 99.9, and HYPER-PLATYRHINE for 100 and over. The profiles of the nose were compared with the figures in NOTES AND QUERIES (1892). In speaking of the EYE, by fold is meant the Mongolian fold which covers the caruncle. All the irises have a brown colour, being either light, medium, or dark. The observations on the EARS were made by means of MS. notes and diagrams drawn up for me by Prof. A. Keith. He recommended that persons under fifteen years of age or over sixty should not be noted, and that as there is a very marked sexual difference, observations on men and women should be kept quite separate. Variations in every race are, within certain limits, so numerous that he suggested that at least a hundred of each sex should be observed; although the numbers examined of the several tribes is usually very small, their total number will probably be found sufficient to give a fair idea of the more common types of ears. The TYPES of ears suggested by Dr. Keith are (1) "European": this applies only to the general shape; the folding, etc., varies enormously. (2) "Negroid": this resembles the "Orang type" but differs in being two-thirds of a circle; that is to say, the Negroid ear has a much greater breadth relative to its height than the ears of Europeans. (3) "Orang": this is the smallest and most degenerate form of ear, seen in its most typical form in the orang utan; it is the common female type. (4) "Chimpanzee": this is the largest and most primitive form of ear, and is found in its typical condition in the chimpanzee; it is commonly, but not always, set at a considerable angle to the head. ANGLE: The ear may be appressed (0), or it may stand out from the head at an angle of less than 30[degree] (1), between 30[degree] and 60[degree] (2), or over 60[degree] (3). LOBULE: This is never totally absent, but when it is 3 mm. or less from the middle of the curved base of the anti-tragus it may be called approximately so (0), when 3 — 10 mm. it is small (1), 10 — 15 mm. medium (2), over 15 mm. long (3). The lobule may be free or adhere partially or totally to the side of the face. DESCENDING HELIX: The degree of folding varies; there may be none (0), under 2 mm. (1), between 2 and 4 mm. (2), between 4 and 6 mm. (3). DARWIN'S POINT: It may be absent (0), or present as a distinct tip (1), as an infolded tip (2), as an inrolled knob (3), or as a slight thickening of the infolded part of the helix (4); the position is constant in the upper posterior segment. TRAGUS: This may be absent (0), otherwise it varies in size measured from base to apex, under 3 mm. (I), between 3 and 5 mm. (2), or 5 to 7 mm. (3). Sometimes it has two apices. ANTI-TRAGUS: This also may be absent (0), or if present the size from base to apex measures as in the tragus under 3 mm. (1), between 3 and 5 mm. (2), or 5 — 7 mm. (3). ANTI-HELIX: It is bent into an angle slightly or not at all (0), the angle does not reach the level of the helix (1), the angle is a little within or a little beyond the level of the helix (2), it is very prominent, distinctly beyond the level of the helix (3). Its prominence is a human feature.

As regards the HAIR, in all cases where there were a number of observations one or two of the oldest men had grizzled or even grey hair. The hair of the head is usually worn long and often attains a length of about two feet, but it is sometimes cut shorter and is occasionally very short. It is usually fairly abundant, but in all groups a few persons have scanty hair. The hair of the face is in all groups either absent or very scanty; the same applies to the body hair. The only scale of SKIN colours we had was that given in the NOTES AND QUERIES ON ANTHROPOLOGY (2nd ed., 1892), but as this was obviously inadequate for the purpose, Dr. Hose prepared a scale for our use in the field, the shades of which have subsequently been as far as possible equated with those of Prof. von Luschan's Hautfarben-Tafel (Puhl and Wagner, Rixdorf); it is these numbers which appear in brackets in the following descriptions, and I have also attempted to describe them in English; the term cinamon is based on the colour of the stick cinnamon of commerce. The colours were usually matched from the inner aspect of the upper arm so as to avoid the darkening caused by the burning of the sun. Besides the information recorded on the cards, a number of additional data on skin colour collected by Dr. Hose are included in the synopses. As regards STATURE the subject is described as SHORT when he measures less than 1.625 m. (5 ft. 4 in.), MEDIUM 1.625 — 1.724 m. (5 ft. 4 in. to 5 ft. 8 in.), and TALL 1.725 m. and over; the subject had his eyes looking towards the horizon.

With the exception of the observations by Mr. R. Shelford, mainly on the Land Dayaks and Iban, which are duly noted, all the data on the living were collected by Dr. W. McDougall and myself, either separately or conjointly, and I have to thank him for permitting me to work up the results. Our thanks are due to Dr. Hose, at whose invitation we went to Sarawak, and without whose zeal, knowledge of the country, and wonderful influence over the natives this work could not have been accomplished. Mr. S. H. Ray also assisted us as amanuensis. Most of the figures were tabulated for me by Miss Barbara Friere-Marreco and the remainder by Miss Lilian Whitehouse, who also has greatly assisted me in drawing up this memoir.

I. Murut Group

Seven KALABIT men and 3 women and 4 MURUT men were measured. No descriptive details of the Muruts are available.

HEAD-FORM: The cephalic indices show 7 to be dolichocephalic and 7 brachycephalic; the 3 women are slightly more dolichocephalic than the men, for whom the median is 78.5. One Kalabit is platycephalic, 1 mesocephalic, and 8 hypsicephalic as regards length-height, and all are hypsicephalic as regards breadth-height. Four Kalabits were noted as having oval heads, in 1 the occiput was prominent, 1 ovoid, and 1 woman ellipsoidal.

FACE: Five Kalabits have pentagonal faces, being rather broad in 3, 2 were long and rather narrow, the jaws are narrow in 2. They show a marked tendency to prognathism, especially dental prognathism. The Kalabits are chamaeprosopic as regards both the total facial and the upper facial indices, with one exception in both respects. The forehead has a slight tendency to be narrow and high. The cheek-bones are moderately prominent in 5 men and 1 woman and not prominent in 2 men and 1 woman. The lips are moderately full. The chin is rather small, and retreating in 3. NOSE: One Murut is leptorhine, 2 Kalabit men are mesorhine, 6 are platyrhine, and 5 hyper-platyrhine. The root is high in 4 Kalabit men, narrow in 3, broad in 4 and 1 woman, and flat in 3 and 1 woman; the base is reflected in 3 of each sex, and straight in 2 men; the alae are small in 4 men and 3 women, moderate in 3 men, and round in 1 of each sex; the nostrils are rounded in 5 men and 3 women, and wide in 2 men. EYES: The aperture is narrow in 1 man, moderately open in 5 men and 1 woman, wide in 1 man and 2 women; it is straight with no fold in 5 men, straight with slight fold in 1 man, more or less oblique with slight fold in 1 man and 2 women, in 1 woman it is straight and the fold is more developed in the right eye than in the left; the colour is medium in 1 man, dark brown in 5 men and 3 women. EARS: Type European in 3 of each sex, Negroid in 1 man, and intermediate in 2 men; angle prominent in 5 men and 3 women, slightly prominent in 2 men; lobule always distended, in 2 men it is adherent; descending helix infolded under 2 mm. in all but 1 man in whom it is under 4 mm.; Darwin's point absent in 3 men and 1 woman, doubtful in 2 men, infolded in 1 man, inrolled in 2 women; tragus under 3 mm. in 2 men, 3 — 5 mm. in the rest; anti-tragus absent in 4 men, and 1 woman, under 3 mm. in 3 men and 2 women; anti-helix below level of helix in 2 of each sex, about at the same level in 5 men and 1 woman.

HAIR: It is straight to wavy in 1 of each sex, wavy in 3 men and 1 woman, wavy-curly in 1 man. The colour is rusty black in 7 men and 3 women. It is moderately abundant and long.

SKIN: Four are lightest cinamon (12), 1 light cinamon (14), 1 cinamon (6), 2 pale fawn (pale 17), 2 dull fawn (17).

Stature: All but 1 Murut man are of short stature, 1 Kalabit man being only 1.485 m. (4 ft. 10 1/2 in.), the 3 women are still shorter, 1 being 1.410 m. (4 ft. 7 1/2 in.), the median for the Kalabits is 1.565 (5 ft. 1 1/2 in.).

II. Klemantan Group

1. South-western Group

(A) Forty-two LAND DAYAK men were measured by Mr. Shelford.

HEAD-FORM: The cephalic indices range fairly evenly from 73.5 to 86.9, 19 men being dolichocephalic; the median is 78.4.

FACE: One is noted as very broad and 2 as prognathous. All but 1 are chamaeprosopic as regards the total facial index and all but 6 as regards the upper facial. NOSE: Nineteen are mesorhine, 17 platyrhine, and 6 hyper-platyrhine; 1 is noted as aquiline, 3 as straight but flat, and 2 have a low bridge; 2 have broad alae, 1 having a very concave nose, broader than long with an index of 116.2, and wide nostrils, it is evidently abnormal. Byes: A fold is mentioned in 18, of which 3 are slight and 2 pronounced, its absence is noted in 3; 5 have medium brown irises.

HAIR: It is noted as straight in 6 and wavy in 2; it is black in 8, and 24 have abundant hair; the hair of the face is absent in 7 and sparse in 8, 1 had a stubbly beard.

SKIN: The colour of the skin is darker than that of other inland tribes, 19 being of a very dark warm cinamon (25) and 4 cinamon (6). It is noted in 1 as much darker when uncovered.

STATURE: None are tall, 7 are medium, the rest short, 4 being under 1.5 m. (4 ft. 11 in.), the median is 1.577 m. (5 ft. 2 in.).

[Thirty-one male and 4 female Ulu Ayar Dayaks were measured by Nieuwenhuis, of these 5 were boys under 17, and all 4 females were girls of 17 and under. See vol. ii., p. 315, note 1.

HEAD-FORM: The cephalic indices range fairly evenly between 71 and 81.4, all but 5 are dolichocephalic, the median being 74.7.

FACE: It is usually of medium breadth; 2 (I.E. 6 per cent) have broad faces. The bi-zygomatic breadth ranges from 125 to 145 mm., the median being 136 mm. NOSE: The breadth-measurements range from 36 to 46 mm., the length-measurements being taken from root to tip are therefore not comparable. Eighteen males and 3 females are noted as having concave noses, 13 and 1 as having broad flat noses, none as straight or narrow, I.E. 60 per cent of the Ulu Ayars have concave ("depressed," "sunken," or "hollow") noses. EYES: The Mongolian fold does not occur. The colour is dark.

HAIR: All had straight hair except 1 man; it is generally rather scanty. The colour is black.

SKIN: The colour is noted as black or blue-black in 10, brown and yellow in 5, light brown in 20.

STATURE: None are tall, 3 are medium, and the rest short, 2 being under 1.5 m. (4 ft. 11 in.); the median is 1.551 (5 ft. 1 in.).]

(B) Seven MALOH men were measured by us.

HEAD-FORM: The cephalic index is essentially dolichocephalic, 3 being low brachycephals, the median 76.8. Two are mesocephalic in the length-height index and none in the breadth-height, all the remainder are hypsicephalic in both respects; 4 are pyriform, 2 oval, and 1 ellipsoidal in shape.

FACE: Two are pentagonal, 2 rather broad, and 2 long; alveolar prognathism is noted in 3, 1 of which has also general prognathism. Two only are leptoprosopic in their total and upper facial indices. The forehead is somewhat narrow and high, the cheek-bones more or less prominent, the lips are usually moderately full, and the chin fairly well developed. NOSE: One is mesorhine, 4 platyrhine, and 2 hyper-platyrhine; the profile is equally divided between straight and concave; the base is reflected in 5, deflected in 2; the alae are rather small and the nostrils wide and rounded. EARS: Type European in 5 (1 doubtful), Negroid in 2; angle prominent in 5, slightly prominent in 2; lobule distended in all; descending helix infolded under 2 mm. in 5, 2 — 4 mm. in 2; Darwin's point absent in 5, inrolled in 2 (1 doubtful); tragus 3 — 5 mm. in 5 (2 doubtful), rather less in 2; anti-tragus absent in 1, doubtful in 1, under 3 mm. in 5 anti-helix below level of helix in 4, about at the same level in 3.

HAIR: The hair is distinctly wavy and long; it is rusty black in 5 and black in 2. There is a moderate amount on the face and none on the body.

SKIN: SIX are dull fawn (17).

STATURE: ALL are short, 1 being 1.47 m. (4 ft. 9 3/4 in.); the median is 1.585 m. (5 ft. 2 1/2 in.).

2. Central Group

BARAWAN SUB-GROUP — This consists of 1 Murik man, 1 Long Ulai man and 1 woman, 8 Long Kiput men, 3 Lelak men, 12 Barawan men and 5 women, 2 Sakapan men, 1 Kajaman, and 4 mixed breeds (I.E. mixed with other Klemantan blood).

HEAD-FORM: Of the longer series the Barawans are the more dolichocephalic, 6 men and 3 women have an index below 78, 1 Long Kiput man and only 4 others being dolichocephalic; the median of the whole series, excluding women, is 79. Most of the men and all the women are hypsicephalic; but 2 Barawans are platycephalic, and 1 Barawan and 2 mixed breeds are mesocephalic in length-height; 1 Long Kiput is platycephalic in length-height and breadth-height, 2 are mesocephalic in both respects, and 1 in length-height only; 1 Lelak is platycephalic in length-height and mesocephalic in breadth-height. The shape is noted as oval in 5 men and 3 women, ovoid in 1 of each sex, round in 3 men.

FACE: Nine men and 3 women have a pentagonal face; it is oval in 1 man and 2 women, rather long in 5 men, square in 2 men, broad in 1 of each sex. All are chamaeprosopic in both respects except 1 Barawan man as regards total facial index and 2 in the upper. The forehead is rounded or prominent in 8 men and 6 women, upright in 4 men and 1 woman, more or less sloping in 4 men, broad and low in 5 men, narrow in 4 men. The cheek-bones are large in 6 men and 1 woman, more or less prominent in 10 men and 3 women, moderate in 11 men and 2 women. The lips vary in thickness, 10 being thin and 7 more or less thick. The chin is fairly well developed except in 6 men. NOSE: One Lelak is leptorhine, 2 Long Kiputs) 3 Barawan men and 2 women and 2 Barawan mixed breeds are mesorhine; 5 Long Kiputs, 2 Lelaks, 6 Barawan men and 1 woman and 1 mixed breed, 1 Long Ulai man and woman and 2 Sakapans are platyrhine; 1 Long Kiput, 3 Barawan men and 2 women, 1 Murik and 1 Kajaman are hyper-platyrhine. The profile is straight in 10 men and 1 woman, more or less concave in 13 men and 5 women, slightly aquiline in 4 men; blunt tips were noted in 2 cases. The root is more or less depressed in 12 men and 4 women, not depressed in 7 men, broad and high in 3, high in 3, narrow in 3. The base is reflected or slightly so in 16 men and 4 women, straight in 9 and 1, slightly deflected in 1 woman; the alae are small in 3 men and 4 women, moderate in 4 men, and wide in 5; the nostrils are round in 7 men and 5 women, oval in 10 and 1, and transversely oval in 2 men. EYES: Aperture is moderate in 11 men and 2 women, small in 10 men, large in 1 man. It is straight with no fold in 3 men and 2 women, straight with a slight fold in 1 woman, slightly oblique with no fold in 8 men and 1 woman, slightly oblique with slight fold in 8 men and 2 women, in 1 Barawan man it is slightly oblique with a very marked fold, 11 Barawans have more or less oblique eyes of which 7 have a fold, 4 are straight, 1 of which has a slight fold. Four men have light brown irises, 2 of each sex dark brown, the remainder are medium. EARS: Type European in 5 Long Kiputs, 2 Lelaks, 8 Barawans and 2 mixed breeds, 1 Kajaman; Negroid in 1 Barawan mixed breed; orang in 2 Barawans. Angle slightly prominent in 1 Long Kiput, 2 mixed breeds and 1 Kajaman, rather more so in 1 Long Kiput, prominent in 1 Lelak, 5 Barawans. Lobule distended throughout, perforated in 2 Barawans, adherent in 1 mixed breed. Descending helix absent in 1 Long Kiput, infolded less than 2 mm. in 4 Long Kiputs, 1 Lelak, 11 Barawans and 2 mixed breeds, 1 Kajaman; 2 — 4 mm. in 1 Lelak, 1 Barawan mixed breed. Darwin's point absent in all except 1 Barawan and 1 mixed breed where it is an infolded tip. Tragus under 3 mm. in 4 Long Kiputs, 1 Lelak, 1 Barawan and 1 mixed breed, slightly more in 1 Lelak, 1 Barawan; 3 — 5 mm. in 1 Long Kiput, 9 Barawans and 2 mixed breeds, 1 Kajaman. Anti-tragus absent in 1 Long Kiput, 3 Barawans; under 3 mm. in 3 Long Kiputs, 2 Lelaks, 7 Barawans and 3 mixed breeds, 1 Kajaman; 3 — 5 mm. in 1 Long Kiput, 1 Barawan. Anti-helix below level of helix in 2 Long Kiputs, 5 Barawans and 1 mixed breed; about at same level in 3 Long Kiputs, 2 Lelak, 6 Barawans and 2 mixed breeds, 1 Kajaman. The 5 Barawan women have ears of European type; angle slightly prominent in 2, prominent in 3; lobule distended in all; descending helix infolded less than 2 mm. in 4, 2 — 4 mm. in 1; Darwin's point absent in all; tragus 3 — 5 mm. in all; anti-tragus absent in 2, under 3 mm. in 3; anti-helix below level of helix in 2, about at same level in 3.

HAIR: Seven men and 2 women have straight hair, 17 and 3 wavy, and 2 men curly hair; the colour. is rusty black in 13 men and 3 women, black in 12 and 3, brown in 1 man. It is generally abundant and long.

SKIN: Three are cinamon (6), 6 light cinamon (14), 15 lighter still (12), 3 dull fawn (17), 3 pale fawn (pale 17), 4 pale pinkish buff (11).

STATURE: Four men are of medium stature, 30 are short, of whom 2 men and all 6 women are below 1.5 m., 1 Barawan woman being only 1.395 m. (4 ft. 7 in.); the Barawans as a whole are shorter than the others. The median for the whole series of men is 1.54 m. (5 ft. 1/2 in.).

3. Sebop Group

Sixteen MALANG men and 4 women were measured.

HEAD-FORM: The indices show 10 men and 3 women to be dolichocephalic, 6 men and 1 woman brachycephalic; the median is 76.9 for the men. All are hypsicephalic, except 2 men in respect to length-height. The shape is described as ovoid in 7 men, oval in 2, round oval in 1 of each sex, and ellipsoidal in 4 men.

FACE: IT is pentagonal in 10 men and 3 women, ovoid in 1 woman, and lozenge-shaped in 1 man; 6 men have long faces and 2 broad. Alveolar prognathism is noted in 3 men, and superciliary ridges in 3. All are chamaeprosopic except 1 of each sex in regard to the upper facial index. The forehead is full in 9 men and 1 woman, broad in 3 men and 1 woman, narrow in 4 and 1, low in 4 and 2, high in 4. The cheek-bones are more or less prominent in 12 men and 2 women, moderate in 2 men, and not prominent in 2 of each sex. The lips are moderately thin. The chin is rather small in 6 men; it is fairly well developed in 7 men and 4 women. NOSE: 2 men and 1 woman are mesorhine, the rest platyrhine, 2 men being hyper-platyrhine. The profile is straight in 8 men and 1 woman, more or less concave in 4 men and 3 women, slightly aquiline in 2 men, high-bridged in 1, and slightly sinuous in 1; blunt tips are noted in 4 men and 3 women. The root is moderately high in 10 men and 1 woman, low in 6 and 3; it is narrow in 3 men and broad in 9 men and 3 women. The base is reflected in 12 men and 4 women, straight in 3 men; the aloe are small in 11 men and 4 women, and moderate in the remaining men; the nostrils are round in 9 men and 1 woman, wide in 4 and 1, long oval in 2 men and round oval in 1, narrow and elongated in 1 woman, large in 1 man, they are nearly or quite horizontal in 3 men. EYES: The aperture is small or narrow in 7 men and 2 women, moderately open in 5 men and 1 woman; it is straight with no fold in 8 men and 1 woman, straight with a slight fold in 4 men, slightly oblique with no fold in 2 men and 1 woman, slightly oblique with fold in 2 of each sex, the fold being slight in 1 man. The colour of the iris is dark brown in 8 men and 4 women, medium in 7 men and light in 1. EARS: Type European in 13 men and 4 women (1 doubtful), approximately Negroid in 2 men, chimpanzee in 1 man; angle prominent in 11 men and 3 women, rather less in 3 men, slightly prominent in 2 men; lobule distended in all but 1 man; descending helix absent in 2 women, infolded less than 2 mm. in 12 men and 1 woman (doubtful), 2 — 4 mm. in 4 men and 1 woman; Darwin's point absent in 15 men and 3 women, doubtful in 1 man, infolded in 1 woman (?); tragus under 3 mm. in 2 men, 3 — 5 mm. in 14 men and 4 women (1 doubtful), double in 3 men and 1 woman of these latter; anti-tragus absent in 6 men and 1 woman, trace in 2 men, under 3 mm. in 7 men and 2 women (1 doubtful), 3 — 5 mm. in 1 of each sex; anti-helix below level of helix in 11 men and 3 women (1 doubtful), about at the same level in 5 men and 1 woman.

HAIR: It is wavy in character; the colour is rusty black in 14 men and 4 women, black in 2 men. It is usually long and abundant on the head; 4 men have slight moustaches.

SKIN: Fourteen are lightest cinamon (12), 2 light cinamon (14), 9 pale fawn (pale 17), 2 light brown (near 17), 5 pale pinkish buff (11).

STATURE: One man is tall, the rest are short, 2 men and all the women being under 1.5 m.; the median for the men is 1.535 m. (5 ft. 1/2 in.).

Eight LONG POKUN men and 10 women were measured.

HEAD-FORM: The cephalic indices show 5 men and 4 women to be dolichocephalic, 3 men and 6 women brachycephalic; the median for the men is 76.9, for the women 79.4. One man is platycephalic, 3 men and 1 woman mesocephalic and the rest hypsicephalic as regards length-height, all are hypsicephalic as regards breadth-height, in each respect the women being markedly more hypsicephalic than the men. The shape is noted as oval in 1 man and 9 women, round oval in 1 of each sex, ellipsoidal in 1 man and pyriform in 4 men.

FACE: In 5 men and 6 women it is more or less pentagonal, in 1 man and 2 women lozenge-shaped. All are markedly chamaeprosopic both in total facial and upper facial indices. The forehead is narrow in 3 men and 1 woman, broad in 2 and 1, small in 2 women, high or moderate in 2 men and 6 women, fairly prominent in 1 and 2, low in 3 men. The cheek-bones are moderately prominent in 8 of each sex, very prominent in 1 woman, and not prominent in 1 woman. The lips are moderately thin in most cases, but are rather thick in 2 men and 1 woman. The chin is small in 3 men and 6 women (noted as not retreating in 2 women), but is fairly well formed. NOSE: Four men and 5 women are mesorhine, the rest platyrhine, 1 of each sex having an index of 100. The profile is straight in 7 men and 4 women (the tip being blunt in 4 men and 2 women, and depressed in 3 men), concave in 4 women, "Chinese" in 1 man and 2 women. The root is broad in 4 men and 9 women (flat in 4 of the women), low in 3 men and 2 women, moderately high in 4 of each sex, moderately narrow in 2 men; the base is more or less reflected in 8 men and 6 women, very much reflected in 1 woman, and nearly straight in 3; the alae are small in 6 men and 8 women, moderate in 1 of each sex and wide in 1 of each sex; the nostrils are round in 3 men and 7 women, more or less widely open in 6 men and 5 women and small in 3 women. EYES: The aperture is moderately open in 6 men and 7 women, wide in 1 of each sex and rather narrow in 1 man and 2 women; it is straight with no fold in 4 men and 6 women, straight with fold more or less developed in 2 men and 1 woman, slightly oblique with no fold in 2 men, slightly oblique with slight fold in 2 women, and oblique with a trace of fold in 1 woman. The colour is light brown in 1 man, medium in 6 men and 7 women, dark in 1 and 3. EAR: Type European in 7 men (2 doubtful) and 3 women, intermediate between European and Negroid in 1 man; angle prominent in 6 men and 1 woman; lobule distended, right adherent in 1 woman; descending helix infolded less than 2 mm. in 7 men and 1 woman, 2 — 4 mm. in 1 of each sex; Darwin's point absent in 2 men and 1 woman, doubtful in 2 men, distinct tip in one man; tragus under 3 mm. in 3 of each sex, being double in 1 man and 3 women, slightly larger in 2 men, being double in 1, 3 — 5 mm. in 3 men and 7 women, being double in 4 women; anti-tragus absent in 2 men and 5 women (1 doubtful), trace in 2 men and 1 woman, under 3 mm. in 4 men and 1 woman; anti-helix below level of helix in 6 men and 1 woman, about at the same level in 2 men (1 doubtful) and 1 woman.

HAIR: It is straight in 1 man, straight to wavy in 1 man and 5 women, wavy in 5 and 3, wavy to curly in 1 man. The colour is rusty black in 7 of each sex and dark brown in 3 women. It is long and fairly abundant on the head; 2 men have beards, one only on the right side.

SKIN: Seven are lightest cinamon (12), 1 with a trace of green, 5 are dull fawn (17), 2 pale fawn (pale 17), 3 pale pinkish buff (11).

STATURE: TWO men are of medium height, the rest short, the median being 1.59 m. (5 ft. 21 in.); only 2 women are over 1.5 m. and 2 are under 1.4 m. (4 ft. 7 in.), the median being 1.47 m. (4 ft. 10 in.).

Five SEBOP men were measured.

HEAD-FORM: All but 1 are dolichocephalic, the median, being 75.3) 1 is platycephalic in regard to length-height, and 1 mesocephalic, the rest are hypsicephalic in both respects. The shape is pyriform in 2, oval to roundish in the remainder.

FACE: It is pentagonal in 4, and narrow with rather prominent brow-ridge in 1. All are chamaeprosopic in both respects. The forehead is full in 2 and low in 2. The cheek-bones are more or less prominent in 4, 1 is not prominent. The lips are thin in 3 and moderate in 2. The chin is fairly well developed. NOSE: Three are mesorhine, 1 platyrhine, and 1 hyper-platyrhine. The profile is concave in 2, straight in 1, and intermediate in 2; a blunt tip is noted in 1. The root is narrow and moderately high in 2, moderately broad in 2, moderately high in 1, and 2 are fairly broad and flat. The base is reflected in 3 and straight in 2; the alae are small in 3, moderately large and rounded in 1, and wide and horizontal in 1. EYES: The aperture is fairly open in 4, rather narrow in 1; it is straight with no fold in 3, and slightly oblique with a slight fold in 2. The colour is medium brown. EARS: Type European in 2, European to Negroid in 1; angle prominent in 2; lobule distended in 1, trace in 1, 3 — 10 mm. in 2, 10 — 15 mm. in 1; descending helix infolded less than 2 mm. in 2, 2 — 4 mm. in 3; Darwin's point absent in 2; tragus under 3 mm. in 1, rather larger in 1, 3 — 5 mm. in 3; anti-tragus under 3 mm. in 4, 3 — 5 mm. in 1; anti-helix below level of helix in 2, about at the same level in 3.

HAIR: It is wavy in 3, straight to wavy in 1, curly in 1; the colour is rusty black in 4, dark brown in 1. It is fairly long and moderately abundant on the head; 1 man has a small moustache at angles of mouth, and 1 has a fairly good moustache and beard.

SKIN: Two are lightest cinamon (12), 1 light brown (near 17).

STATURE: All are short, 1 being under 1.5 m.; the median is 1.54 m. (5 ft. 1/2 in.).

Ten LERONG men and 5 women were measured.

HEAD-FORM: The cephalic indices show 4 men and 1 woman to be dolichocephalic, 6 men and 4 women brachycephalic, the median being 78.5 for the men and 81 for the women. Three men are mesocephalic as regards length-height, otherwise both sexes are hypsicephalic both in length-height and breadth-height, the women being more so than the men. The shape is noted as ovoid in 5 men, pyriform in 3 men, oval in 3 of each sex, and round oval in 2 women (1 with vertical occiput).

FACE: It is more or less pentagonal in 8 men and 1 woman, oval or ovoid in 4 women, broad in 1 woman, and long in 2 men; alveolar prognathism is noted in 1 of each sex and sunken temples and cheeks in 1 man. All are chamaeprosopic as regards both total facial and upper facial indices, one man only being an exception in both respects. The forehead is good in 3 of each sex, fair in 3 men, rather narrow in 2 men and 1 woman. The cheek-bones are prominent in 8 men and 2 women, not prominent in 2 and 3. The lips are moderately thin in 4, men but tend to be thick in 2 men and 4 women. The chin is usually well developed, but is small in 2 women. NOSE: Three men and 1 woman are mesorhine, the rest platyrhine, 1 woman being hyper-platyrhine. The profile is straight in 4 men and 1 woman, straight to slightly sinuous in two men, "Chinese" in 1 woman, concave in 4 men and 3 women; blunt tips are noted in 6 cases and depressed tips in 3; the root is moderately high in 7 men, narrow in 2, more or less broad in 4 men and 1 woman, rather low in 2 and 1, broad and flat in 4 women. The base is more or less reflected in 6 men and 4 women, straight in 4 men; the alae are small in 4 of each sex, moderate in 4 men, wide in 1 of each sex; the nostrils are rounded in 5 of each sex, and more or less widely open in 6 men, distended in 1 man. EYES: The aperture is moderately wide in 9 men and 4 women, and rather narrow in 1 woman; it is straight with no fold in 4 men and 1 woman, straight with slight fold in 2 women (in one case trace of fold in right eye only), slightly oblique with trace of fold in 2 men and 1 woman and with fairly developed fold in 1 woman, slightly oblique with no fold in 1 of each sex, quite oblique with slight fold in 1 man. The colour is medium brown in 8 men and 5 women and dark brown in 1 man. EARS: Type European in 9 men and 4 women (3 doubtful), Negroid in one man; angle prominent in 8 men (1 doubtful), slightly prominent in 1 man; lobule distended in all but 1 man in whom it is medium; descending helix infolded less than 2 mm. in 9 men and 1 woman (doubtful), 2 — 4 mm. in 1 man; Darwin's point absent in 6 men, inrolled knob in 1 man; tragus under 3 mm. in 4 men, being double in 3, slightly larger in 1 of each sex being double in both, 3 — 5 mm. in 6 men and 4 women being double in 1 man; anti-tragus absent in 3 men and 4 women, under 3 mm. in 8 men; anti-helix below level of helix in 5 men, about at the same level in 5 men and 1 woman.

HAIR: It is straight in 2 women, straight to wavy in 6 men and 3 women, wavy in 3 men. The colour is rusty black in 7 men and 3 women, light rusty black in 1 man, dark brown in 1 man and 2 women. It is nearly always abundant on the head, and is rather long, especially in the women.

SKIN: Eight are lightest cinamon (12), 1 light cinamon (14), 2 cinamon (6), 4 pale fawn (pale 17).

Stature: One man is of medium height, the rest are short, 2 being under 1.5 m., the median is 1.52 (4 ft. 11 3/4 in.). Four women are under 1.5 m., one being only 1.39 m. (4 ft. 61 in.).

Seven MILANAU men, consisting of 6 Narom and 1 Miri, were measured.

HEAD-FORM: All are brachycephalic, but it should be remembered that deformation of the head is practised by these people (vol. i., p. 48), and it is probable that the cephalic index is very rarely normal, consequently the head indices may be neglected. Three are flat behind and broad in the parietal region, of whom 2 are narrow in front and 1 broad, 3 are more or less ovoid.

FACE: It is pentagonal in 4, the angle of the jaws is prominent in 1; the Miri man has an oval face pointed below, with small jaws and alveolar prognathism. All are chamaeprosopic in regard both to total facial and upper facial indices. The forehead is low and broad in 1, high and broad in 1, low in 1, high in 2, and rather sloping in 1. The cheek-bones are prominent in 3 and moderately large in 4. The lips are moderately thin as a rule, in 1 they are fairly large. The chin is rather small in 4, and fairly well formed in 3. NOSE: Four men are mesorhine and 3 platyrhine, the highest index being 89.1. The profile is straight in 4, with blunt tip in 2, slightly concave in 2, and sinuous with blunt tip in 1; the root is high in 1, narrow and moderately high in 2, broad and moderately high in 3; the base is straight in 5, reflected in 1, and slightly concave in 1; the alae are moderate in 3, and small in 1; the nostrils are rounded in 1, broad in 1, moderately oval in 1. EYES: The aperture is moderately wide; it is straight with no fold in 1, slightly oblique with no fold in 3, more or less oblique with slight fold in 3. The colour of the iris is medium brown in 4 and light in 2. EARS: Type European in 2, European to Negroid in 1, European to chimpanzee in 1, chimpanzee in 1, orang in 1; angle prominent in 6, slightly prominent in 1; lobule absent in 1, trace in 3, being adherent in 1, small in 2, medium in 1; descending helix infolded less than 2 mm. in 6, 2 — 4 mm. in 1; Darwin's point absent in all; tragus under 3 mm. in 1, slightly larger in 15 3 — 5 mm. in 5, being double in 2; anti-tragus under 3 mm. in 5, 3 — 5 mm. in 2; anti-helix below level of helix in 3, slightly below in 1, about at the same level in 2, distinctly beyond in 1.

HAIR: One man had curly hair 1 wavy, 1 straight to wavy, and 1 straight, but the character was difficult to determine as in all cases but one the hair was cut, being more or less closely cropped in 2 men. The colour is noted as black in 6, and rusty black in 1, and as fairly abundant on the head in 3; several had hair on the face, 2 had small moustaches, 2 had moustaches and short beards, 1 had small beard and moustache and thick eyebrows.

SKIN: Three axe cinamon (6), 1 light cinamon (14), 1 lightest cinamon (12), and 1 pale fawn (pale 17).

STATURE: One is of medium height, the rest are short but none are under 1.5 m.; the median is 1.562 m. (5 ft. 1 1/2 in.).

III. Punan Group

Eighteen PUNAN men and four women were measured by us and one man by
Mr. Shelford.

HEAD-FORM: The cephalic indices show 3 men to be dolichocephalic, the rest of the men and all the women are brachycephalic, the median being 80.9 for the men and 81.2 for the women. Two men are platycephalic both in length-height and breadth-height, 1 is platycephalic in length-height but mesocephalic in breadth-height, 1 is platycephalic in length-height but hypsicephalic in breadth-height, 1 is mesocephalic in length-height but platycephalic in breadth-height, 1 of each sex is mesocephalic in both respects, 1 of each sex is mesocephalic in length-height but hypsicephalic in breadth-height, 1 woman is hypsicephalic in length-height and platycephalic in breadth-height, the rest are hypsicephalic in both respects. The shape is usually ovoid in the men, 2 are noted as pyriform; 3 women have round heads.

FACE: The shape varies; it is oval in 4 men and 2 women, but owing to the general moderate prominence of the cheek-bones and the smallness of the chin, it becomes pentagonal (3 men) or even lozenge-shaped or triangular (2 men); 1 woman has a broad face and 1 man a somewhat square, while 2 men have long faces. Alveolar prognathism is noted in 1 case and superciliary ridges in 2. All are chamaeprosopic except 2 men, 1 being leptoprosopic in regard to both total facial and upper facial indices, the other as to upper facial only. The forehead is upright in 3 of each sex, full in 5 men and 1 woman. The cheek-bones are prominent in 9 men, moderate in 6 men and 2 women, broad in 1 of each sex. The lips are moderately thin except in 2 men and 1 woman. The chin is usually fairly well formed; though small it is not retreating in 5 men. NOSE: Eight men are mesorhine, 7 men and 3 women platyrhine, 4 men and 1 woman hyper-platyrhine. The profile is straight in 10 men and 1 woman, slightly concave in 6 and 1; the root is more or less depressed in 9 men and 2 women, fairly high and narrow in 4 men; the base is slightly reflected in 9 men and 4 women, straight in 7 men, and slightly deflected in 2 men; the alae, are usually moderately developed, rather thin in 4; the nostrils are oval in 13 or rounded in 4. EYES: The aperture is moderate in 11 men and 1 woman, small in 5 and 2; it is straight with no fold in 5 men, slightly oblique with no fold in 3 men, slightly oblique with a slight fold in 6 men and 3 women and with a more developed fold in 1 woman, moderately oblique with moderate fold in 3 men and with slight fold in 1 man. The colour is light brown in 2 men, medium in 8, dark in 6 and 1 woman. EAR: Type European in 8, European to Negroid in 4; angle prominent in 6, more so in 2; lobule distended in 9, absent in 1, adherent in 2, being small in 1; descending helix absent in 3, infolded less than 2 mm. in 6, rather more in 1, 2 — 4 mm. in 2; Darwin's point a distinct tip in 2, doubtful in 1, absent in the rest; tragus under 3 mm. in 5, being double in 1, rather larger in 1, 3 — 5 mm. in 7, being double in 1; anti-tragus absent in 2, trace in 1, under 3 mm. in 10; anti-helix below level of helix in 5, about at the same level in 8.

HAIR: It is straight in 6 men and 3 women, straight to wavy in 2 men, wavy in 8 men and 1 woman, wavy to curly in 1 man. The colour is rusty black in 12 men and 1 woman, black in 5 men, and dark brown in 1 man. It is usually fairly long and abundant on the head, but in 6 men it is noted as thin; 7 have a slight amount of hair on the face and 1 a moderate amount on the legs.

SKIN: Fifteen are light cinamon (14), 15 lightest cinamon (12), 11 pale fawn (pale 17), and 6 dull fawn or light brown (17).

STATURE: Two are of medium height, the rest short, 4 men being under 1.5 m.; the median is 1.55 m. (5 ft. 1 in.).

Three UKIT men were measured by Mr. Shelford. They are more brachycephalic than the Punan, their median index being 83.3, but are slightly less chamaeprosopic, 2 being leptoprosopic in regard to the upper facial index. All 3 are mesorhine.

The Mongolian fold is very slight in 2. All have straight black hair. One is tall, measuring 1.735 m. (5 ft. 8 1/4 in.), the other 2 are short.

[Fourteen PUNAN men were measured by Nieuwenhuis.

HEAD-FORM: The cephalic indices range evenly between 77.5 and 86.1, the median being 81.3; all except 1 are brachycephalic.

FACE: It is broad in 5 and medium in the rest. The bi-zygomatic breadth ranges from 132 to 145 mm., which is rather narrower than the range obtained by us, 130 — 154 mm. NOSE: the breadth varies between 37 and 43 mm., whereas in the Punans measured by us the range was between 34 and 44 mm. The shape is noted as concave in 4, broad and flat in 10, I.E. 29 percent have "depressed," "sunken," or "hollow" noses. EYES: the Mongolian fold does not occur. The iris is dark.

HAIR: It is uniformly straight and tends to be scanty. The colour is black.

SKIN: The colour is light brown in 10, brown and yellow in 2, black or blue-black in 2.

STATURE: None are tall, 4 are of medium height, the rest are short 1 being under 1.5 m.; the median is 1.569 m. (5 ft. 1 3/4 in.).]

IV. Kenyah Group

Twenty-six KENYAH men and 6 women were measured, consisting of 6 MADANG men, 9 Long Dallo men and 2 women, 9 Apoh men, 4 Long Sinong women, and two other men. All these may be taken as pure Kenyahs, and the following data are based thereon.

HEAD-FORM: THE cephalic indices of the three groups given on Table A range from dolichocephaly to brachycephaly, and it is interesting to note that the Madangs, with a median of 78.1, have distinctly the narrowest heads, intermediate are the Long Dallo men, median 80.5, while the Apoh men, with a median of 84, have distinctly the broadest heads. The head in all is markedly hypsicephalic both as regards the length-height and the breadth-height indices. The shape is described as round in 8 men, oval in 2, ovoid in 3, square in 1, pyriform in 3, and long in 2. The 4 Long Sinong women are distinctly brachycephalic, the mean being 83.2, but the average is 85.1, owing to one having an index 93.8. They also are very hypsicephalic.

FACE: Six men are recorded as having pentagonal faces, 3 broad and 3 long; alveolar prognathism is noted in 2. All are chamaeprosopic as regards the total facial index, and all except 1 Madang and 2 Long Dallo men as regards the upper facial index. The forehead is upright in 10 men, 1 is noted as bulging and 1 as sloping. The cheek-bones are moderate in 12 men, prominent in 6 men (1 very marked) and 2 women, and broad in 1 of each sex. The lips are, as a rule, moderately full, but are thin in 3. The chin is fairly well developed. NOSE: One man is leptorhine, 6 are mesorhine, 13 platyrhine, 6 hyper-platyrhine. The 2 Long Dallo women are mesorhine, the 4 Long Sinong women are strongly platyrhine. The profile is straight in 14 men, a few others varied. The base is slightly reflected in 14 men, straight in 2; the alae are broad in 5 men, small in 2, and the septum is disclosed in 2; the nostrils are wide in 8 men, elongated in 1. EYES: The aperture is moderate in 10 men, wide in 6 men and 3 women, narrow in 7 men; it is straight with no fold in 6 men and 1 woman and with a slight fold in 5 men, slightly oblique with no fold in 5, and with a slight fold in 4 and 2 women, oblique with no fold in 1. The colour is light in 2 men and 1 woman, medium in 15 men and 1 woman, and dark in 7 men and 4 women. EARS: Data were obtained only for the Madang. Type European in 3 (2 doubtful), Negroid 1 (?); angle prominent 2 (?); lobule distended in 4, of medium size in 1 (?); descending helix infolded less than 2 mm. in 2, rather more in 1; tragus 3 — 5 mm. in 5, being double in 1, 5 — 7 mm. in 1; anti-tragus absent in 1, trace in 1, under 3 mm. in 3, 3 — 5 mm. in 1; anti-helix below level of helix in 2, about at the same level in 1.

HAIR: It is straight in 7 men and 1 woman, wavy in 14 men and 2 women, curly in 2 men. The colour is dark brown in 3 men, rusty black in 15 men and 5 women, black in 5 men and 1 woman. It is usually long and moderately abundant on the head; face hair was observed in 2 men, and a small amount on the body in 5.

SKIN: The average skin colour is various shades of cinamon; 11 are cinamon (6), 16 are light cinamon (14), 14 are lightest cinamon (12), 9 pale fawn (pale 17), 3 dull fawn or light brown (17), 6 pale pinkish buff (11).

STATURE: 7 men (3 Madangs, 3 Long Dallos, 1 Long Tikan) are of medium height; the rest are short; the median is 1.61 m. (5 ft. 31 in.). The stature of the 6 women ranges from 1.42 m. (4 ft. 8 in.) to 1.57 m. (5 ft. 1 3/4 in.).

V. Kayan Group

Twenty-one KAYAN men and 1 woman were measured.

HEAD-FORM: The cephalic index forms a gradual series with a median of 79.8, all except 5 being brachycephalic. The head is distinctly hypsicephalic, only 5 being mesocephalic as regards length-height. Five were noted as oval, 2 ovoid, 1 square ovoid, 3 round.

FACE: The form varies, 3 being more or less pentagonal, 2 squarish, 2 round, and 5 oval. All are chamaeprosopic except 1 man in the total facial and upper facial indices, and 1 of each sex in the upper facial index. The forehead is upright in 6, and rounded and full in 6. The cheek-bones are moderate in 14, and prominent in 3. The lips are moderately full, being noted as thick in 2 men. The chin is fairly well developed, with 3 exceptions. NOSE: Ten are mesorhine and the remainder platyrhine, of whom 5 are hyper-platyrhine, 2 of these latter are boys (aged 15); the excessive platyrhiny is due mainly to the shortness of the nose in the three adults. The profile is straight in 16 and moderately concave in 3; the root is slightly depressed in 11 and high in 6; the base is reflected in 11 and straight in 4; the nostrils are transversely oval in 2, oval in 5, and round in 5. EYES: The aperture is narrow in 12 and medium in 4; it Is straight with no fold in 8 and with a slight fold in 2, slightly oblique with no fold in 2 and with a slight fold in 6; 1 man with a straight eye and no fold is noted as having a lash fold which is the character of a Mongolian upper eyelid. The colour is light in 6, medium in 10, and dark in 3. EARS: Type European in 2, European to Negroid in 3, orang in 3; angle slightly prominent in 2; lobule distended in 5, perforated in 2; descending helix absent in 1, infolded less than 2 mm. in 8; Darwin's point absent; tragus under 3 mm. in 5, 3 — 5 mm. in 4; anti-tragus under 3 mm. in 8, 3 — 5 mm. in 1; anti-helix below level of helix in 4, about at the same level in 4, distinctly beyond in 1.

HAIR: It is straight in 6, wavy in 12, wavy to curly in 1, and curly in 1 (Pl. 22); the colour is rusty black in 12, black in 6, and dark brown in 1.

SKIN: The average skin colour is a light cinamon (14) or pale fawn (pale 17).

STATURE: All but 3 of the men are of short stature, the median being 1.550 m. (5 ft. 1 in.).

[Forty-eight male and 30 female KAYANS were measured by Nieuwenhuis, also 1 Mahakam Kayan of each sex. Of these 5 were boys under 16 and 5 girls under 16, who will be omitted from the description where it is possible to distinguish them.

HEAD-FORM: The cephalic index of the men forms a gradual series from 75 to 85.4 with 6 higher indices; 8 are dolichocephalic, the median of the whole series of adult men being 81.1; that of the women ranges from 75 to 93.2, with a slight weakening in the series about where the median 82.5 occurs; one index, 97, falls considerably outside; 4 are dolichocephalic. The Mahakam man has an index of 78.3, the woman 74. 1.

FACE: One Kayan had a long face, 14 per cent (including children) had broad faces, the rest were medium. In our and his Kayans the bi-zygomatic breadth ranges from 132 to 150 mm., except that two of his are narrower, 126 and 129 mm. NOSE: Breadth-measurements agree with ours. Two males and 1 female are noted as having concave noses, 35 and 20 as broad and flat, 9 and 8 as straight, 1 of each sex as narrow and straight. These characterisations are of course not mutually exclusive. No convex noses were observed; 4 per cent are concave ("depressed," "sunken," or "hollow"). EYES: The Mongolian fold does not occur. The iris is always dark.

HAIR: 28 per cent of the males and 17 per cent of the females had wavy hair, 1 man had curly hair, the rest straight. As a rule it is rather scanty, but 30 per cent of the Kayans had a moderate amount. The colour is black.

SKIN: The colour is brown or yellow.

STATURE: Two men are tall, 6 medium and the rest short, 6 being below 1.5 m., of whom 2 are under 18 years old; the median is 1.572 (5 ft. 2 in.). The women over 23 average 14 cm. shorter than the men; this is a large difference, as it is usually 10 — 12 cm., as in our Sarawak figures.]

VI. Iban (or Sea Dayaks) Group

Fifty-six IBAN men were measured by us.

HEAD-FORM: The cephalic index forms a gradual series, the median being 83, and therefore shows brachycephaly. The head is usually hypsicephalic, but 1 is platycephalic as regards breadth-height, 2 are mesocephalic both in length-height and breadth-height, 5 are mesocephalic in length-height and 3 in breadth-height. Thirteen are noted as round, 7 as ovoid, 4 as oval, several had broad parietal and narrow frontal regions producing a pyriform norma verticalis.

FACE: The form is noted as pentagonal in 10, oval in 5, broad oval in 4, the narrowness of the jaw producing the pentagonal shape. The majority are chaniaeprosopic, but 1 is leptoprosopic in total facial and upper facial indices, and 7 are leptoprosopic in upper facial index. The forehead is generally full or slightly bulging, but may be straight and vertical; 3 are noted as being sloped. The cheek-bones are prominent in 20, and moderately so in 24. The lips are moderately full. The chin is small and moderately prominent. NOSE: Sixteen are mesorhine, 21 platyrhine, and 19 hyper-platyrhine. The profile is concave in 23, straight in 18 and nearly so in 4; the root is more or less high in 19, more or less depressed in 20, in most cases it is broad or moderately so; the base is straight in 24, reflected in 25, deflected in 3; the alae are wide in 8, moderate in 6, small in 9; the nostrils are oval in 10, transversely oval in 8, round in 13, wide in 9. EYES: The aperture is narrow in 13, medium in 18, wide in 3; it is straight with no fold in 10 and with a slight fold in 11, slightly oblique with no fold in 10 and with a moderate fold in 21. The majority are normal as regards the eyelashes, but 3 have a distinct Mongolian character and 5 have it slightly. The colour is intermediate in 25, dark in 22, light in 5, 4 cases were noted with a bluish margin to the iris. EARS: Type European in 31, European to Negroid in 2, Negroid in 2, orang flattened above in 1; angle slightly prominent in 22, rather more so in 1, prominent in 8, more so in 1, very prominent in 1; lobule distended in 10 and perforated in 5, very small in 1, small in 13, being adherent in 4, rather small in 1, medium in 10, 1 being adherent, 2 perforated, and 1 doubtful; descending helix absent in 2, infolded less than 2 mm. in 23, 2 — 4 mm. in 13; Darwin's point an infolded tip in 1, an inrolled knob in 2, absent in the rest; tragus under 3 mm. in 11, being double in 1, slightly larger in 1, 3 — 5 mm. in 25, being double in 3, 5 — 7 mm. in 1; anti-tragus absent in 4, under 3 mm. in 24, 3 — 5 mm. in 8, 5 — 7 mm. in 1; anti-helix below level of helix in 23, about at the same level in 15.

HAIR: It is straight in 16, wavy in 26, curly in 2, 1 being described as crisp. The colour is rusty black in 26, black in 17, and dark brown in 1. Eight men had a slight amount of hair on the face; the body hair is absent or very scanty, but one had a quantity on his legs.

SKIN: Five are dark warm cinamon, 27 cinamon (6), 5 light cinamon (14), 11 dull fawn (17), 11 light brown (near 17), 5 various shades of a light greenish sepia (light 3 1), 3 a still lighter greenish sepia.

STATURE: One man is tall, 11 are of medium stature, and the remainder short, 2 being under 1.5 In.; the median is 1.585 m. (5 ft. 2 1/2 in.).

Thirteen SIBUYAU men were measured by Mr. Shelford and 1 by us.

HEAD-FORM: All but two are brachycephalic, the median being 83. Mr. Shelford did not measure the radii and so the height indices cannot be given.

FACE: All are chamaeprosopic with regard to the total facial index and all except 3 in the upper facial index.

NOSE: Two are leptorhine, 7 mesorhine, and 5 platyrhine.

STATURE: All the men are short, 3 being under 1.5 m.; the median is 1.535 m. (5 ft. 1 in.).

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