I. Danjai and the Were-Tiger’s Sister.
Once upon a time there lived a great Chief named Danjai. He was the head of one of the longest Dyak houses that were ever built. It was situated on a hill in the midst of a large plantation of fruit trees. Danjai was said to be very rich indeed. He possessed much farming land, many fruit trees, many tapang trees, where the wild bees made their abode, and from which the sweet honey is obtained, and in his room there were many valuable jars of various kinds, and also a large number of brass vessels; for the Dyaks convert their wealth into jars and brassware to hand down to posterity. Every year he obtained a plentiful harvest of paddy,[2] much more than he and his family could consume, and he had always much paddy for sale, so much so that the news of his wealth travelled to distant lands, and many from afar off would come and buy paddy from him. Danjai also possessed many slaves, who were ready to help him in his work.
All the people in his house had a very high opinion of his judgment, and were ready to obey his decisions, whenever he settled any of their disputes. So great indeed was his reputation for wisdom that men from distant villages would often consult him and ask his advice when in any difficulty. He had also great fame as a brave warrior, and during expeditions against the enemy, he was the leader of the men of his own village and of many villages around, for all liked to follow such a brave man as Danjai, who was sure to lead them to victory. Over the fireplace in his veranda he had, hanging together in a bunch, the dried heads of the enemies whom he himself had killed.
Now this man Danjai had a very pretty wife whom he had recently married, but the marriage feast had not been held, because he had not yet obtained a human head from the enemy as a token of his love for her: for this girl was of good birth and a Chief’s daughter, and wanted the whole world to know, when they attended her marriage feast, what a brave man her husband was. One day Danjai said to his young wife: “I will hold a meeting of the Chiefs around, and tell them that we must all get our war-boats ready, as I intend leading an expedition against the enemy. I should like to bring you a human head as a token of my love, so that you may not be ashamed of your husband. And as soon as I return, we will have the wedding feast.” Though his wife was sorry that her husband intended leaving her, still she did not oppose his wishes, for she wished him to come back covered with glory. So a council of war was held, and Danjai told the assembled Chiefs what he intended to do, and it was decided that all should begin at once making war-boats, which were to be ready in two months’ time.
Assisted by his slaves and followers, Danjai had been at work at his boat for several weeks, and it was nearly finished. It was a beautiful boat made out of the trunk of one large tree, and Danjai was proud of his work. He was so anxious to finish his boat that one day he started very early in the morning, before his breakfast was ready, and he asked his wife to bring his food to him later on to the part of the jungle where he was working at his boat.
Accordingly, Mrs. Danjai cooked the food and ate her own breakfast. Then she made up a small bundle of rice and also put together some fish and salt, and placed all in a little basket to take to her husband. She had never been out in the jungle by herself before, but she was not afraid, for her husband had told her the way, and she could hear the sound of his adze as he worked at his boat not very far off. She hung her basket over her left shoulder, and, holding her small knife in her right hand, went cheerfully on. Presently she came to the stump of a tree on which was placed a bunch of ripe sibau fruit. They looked so tempting that she could not help eating some of them, and as they were very nice, she put what remained in her basket, saying to herself: “Perhaps Danjai forgot to take these with him and left them here. I will take them to him myself; he will no doubt be glad to eat these ripe fruits after his hard work.”
Now there was in this land a Were-Tiger, that was much feared by all who lived around. He had the appearance of a man, but at times would transform himself into a tiger, and then he would attack human beings and carry off their heads as trophies to his own house. But he never attacked any unless they had first done wrong by taking something which belonged to him. So this Were-Tiger would leave tempting fruit by the side of jungle paths, and on the stumps of trees, in the hope that some tired traveller would take and eat them. And if anyone ate such fruit, then he or she was doomed to be killed by him that same day. But all knew about him, and though he placed many tempting baits in all parts of the jungle, no one touched his fruit, for all feared the fate which awaited them if they did any such things. But Danjai’s wife knew nothing about the Were-Tiger. No one had told her of him, and she had never been out before in the jungle by herself, and she had never been warned not to touch any fruit she might find lying about.
“Oh, Danjai,” she said, as soon as she met her husband, “I am afraid I am rather late. You must be very tired and hungry, working the whole morning at your boat without having had anything to eat. Never mind! Here is your breakfast at last.” And she handed the basket which contained his food to her husband.
Now Danjai was really very hungry, so he was glad to see his food had arrived. He thanked his wife, and at once began to empty the basket.
The first thing he saw was the ripe sibau fruit at the top, and he asked his wife where she got them from. She told him she had found them on the stump of a tree by the wayside, and she said she thought they had been left there by him. She added with a smile that they were very good, as she had eaten some herself.
Then Danjai, brave man though he was, turned pale with fear and anxiety.
“We must not linger here a moment,” he said to his wife. “Hungry though I am, I will not eat my food here. We must both hurry home at once. You have taken and eaten fruit belonging to the Were-Tiger, so much feared by all. It is said that whoever touches his fruit will surely die a terrible death: and you are the first person I know who has done so.”
A Dyak Woman in Everyday Costume
She is wearing a necklace of small silver current coins, fastened together with silver links. The bangles are hollow, and of silver or brass, made separately, but worn several together on each wrist. The two favourite colours for petticoats are blue and red. The red petticoat, as in the picture, has often a design in white worked or woven into it.
Danjai hurriedly gathered together all his tools and told those that were with him of his trouble, and they all started and walked silently back. Danjai was wondering how he was to avert the fate which awaited his young wife. She was silent, because she saw her husband was troubled, and she was sorry that she had caused him grief.
As soon as they arrived at the house, Danjai sent for all the men round about and told them what had happened, how his wife had taken and eaten the fruit of the Were-Tiger. He begged them all to help to shield her, for the Were-Tiger was sure to have his revenge, and come and take the head of his wife.
So they all prepared themselves for the tiger’s visit by sharpening their knives and spears. Some men placed themselves on the roof of the house, others in the veranda. The ladder leading up to the house was also guarded, and so were all parts of the house by which he was likely to force an entrance. As for Danjai’s wife, they hid her beneath some mats and sheets in the room, and twelve brave men stood round her with their swords drawn, ready to save her life even at the cost of their own.
Just before dark they heard the roar of the tiger in the distance. Though still a long way off, the sound was very terrible to hear, and the men all grasped their swords and spears firmly, for they knew the tiger would soon be upon them.
Once more the tiger’s roar sounded, nearer and clearer, and then they heard him crash through the leaf-thatch roof and fall into the room. There was a great commotion among the men, but though all tried to kill the animal, none could see him. Soon after they heard a roar of triumph from the tiger outside the house. They lifted up the mats and sheets which covered Danjai’s wife, and there they saw her headless body! The Were-Tiger had succeeded in his attack, and had carried off the head of his victim!
Loud was the weeping and great the lamentation over her dead body. She was so young to die! And what death could be more terrible than hers whose head had been carried away by her murderer! All in the house mourned her loss for seven days, and during that time the house was very quiet, as all lived in their separate rooms, and did not come out into the common veranda to do work or to talk to each other.
The death of his wife grieved Danjai very much. But though his grief was great, his desire for revenge was greater still.
Very early on the morning of the next day Danjai started after the tiger. The drops of blood which had fallen could plainly be seen on the ground, and he had no difficulty in finding out in what direction the tiger had gone. On and on he tracked the blood till he came to a cave at the foot of a high mountain. The sides of the cave were splashed with blood, so Danjai walked boldly in, determined to revenge the death of his wife. It was not very dark in the cave. In the distance he could see an opening, and he hurried towards it.
He came out on the other side of the mountain, and saw a large plantation of sugar-cane and plantain-trees. Beyond this he saw a long Dyak house.
“This,” he said to himself, “is surely the abode of the Were-Tiger, and soon I shall have an opportunity of revenging the death of my wife.”
He planted two sticks one across the other in the ground to mark the opening in the mountain, so that he might not miss his way on his return, and then he boldly walked towards the house.
He followed a path through the sugar-cane plantation—still tracking the drops of blood upon the ground—until he came to the ladder leading up to the house. He was so anxious to attack his wife’s murderer that he did not pause to ask—as is the usual Dyak custom—whether he might walk up or not, but went straight on into the house. Men sitting in the veranda asked him, as he passed them, where he was going and what he wanted, but he did not answer them. His heart was heavy within him, thinking of his dead wife, and wondering if he would be able to accomplish his task, and whether he would succeed in leaving the house as easily as he came in. But he was determined to avenge his wife’s murder, and he would not shrink from any difficulties in the way.
He stopped at the room of the headman of the house, and a girl asked him to sit down, and spread a mat for him. He did so, and the girl went into the room to fetch the brass vessel containing the betel-nut ingredients which the Dyaks love to chew. As he sat down, he saw drops of blood on the fireplace, and, looking up, he noticed a fresh head, still dripping with blood, among the other skulls hanging there. He recognized it at a glance—it was the head of his loved wife!
The girl came out with the brass vessel of betel-nut, and said: “Help yourself, Danjai. We did not expect you to visit us so soon. Please excuse me for a while; I have to attend to the cooking. But you will not be alone, for my brother will soon be back. He has only gone to the plantation to fetch some sugar-cane.”
So Danjai sat on the mat by himself, thinking what he was to do next, and what he was to say to his wife’s murderer when he came in. Soon the Were-Tiger arrived, carrying on his shoulder a bundle of sugar-cane.
“I am very pleased to see you, Danjai,” he said. “Would you like some sugar-cane? If so, help yourself.”
Danjai was so sad thinking of his wife that he did not notice how curious it was that they should know his name when they had never seen him before. He did not feel at all inclined to eat sugar-cane, but lest his host should think he had come to kill, and to put him off his guard, he pretended to eat a little. He heard the Were-Tiger say to his sister in the room that she was to be sure to have enough food cooked, as Danjai would eat with them that evening. Then he left them and went to the river to bathe.
The sister came out of the room, and spoke to Danjai, who was still sitting in the veranda, and asked him to come into the room, as she had something to say to him.
“Yes, Danjai,” she said to him in a kind tone of voice, “I know of your trouble and I am sorry for you. However, if you follow my advice, all will be well. You must be careful, for my brother is easily put out, and has no scruples about killing any who displease him. Our own people here hate him, for he is so merciless; but no one dares attack him, for all fear him greatly. Now listen attentively to what I have to say. When I put out the plates of rice in the room presently, do not take the one he tells you to have: take any of the others, for the one he wishes you to have is sure to contain some poison. Later on, when you retire to rest, do not spend the night on the mat spread out for you, but sleep somewhere else, and put the wooden mortar for pounding paddy on the mat in your stead; and so again on the second night, place the wooden mill for husking the paddy on your mat; and on the third night a roll of the coarse matting used for treading paddy. If his three attempts to kill you are unsuccessful, then he will be in your power, and will do what you command. But even then there is still danger, and you must not do anything rash, but ask my advice again later on. But go outside now into the veranda, for I think I hear my brother returning from his bath. I must make haste and put out the food for you all to eat.”
Soon the Were-Tiger came in, and, sitting on the mat by Danjai, asked him the news and how matters were in his country. Danjai answered little, for he was very sad; besides, his host always laughed at him whenever he spoke. The fact was that he was amused at the idea of the man whose wife he had killed sitting in his veranda and talking to him in a friendly way.
The sister came out of the room and asked them in to have their meal. All happened as she said it would. Danjai remembered her advice, and did not take the plate of rice his host offered him. But he was too sad to eat much.
In the evening Danjai and the Were-Tiger sat by a fire in the veranda. Over this fire hung several human heads. The tears came into Danjai’s eyes as he sat there and saw the head of his dear wife being scorched by the fire. He felt inclined there and then to grasp his sword and attack her murderer; but he restrained himself, remembering the advice of the Tiger’s sister.
The Were-Tiger said to him with a nasty laugh: “What is troubling you that you should weep?”
“I am not troubled about anything,” said Danjai; “but the smoke of the fire is too much for my eyes, and it makes them water and feel sore.”
“If so,” said his host, “let us put out the fire and retire to rest, as it is very late.”
Two mats were spread out for them, one on each side of the fireplace, and they lay down to sleep. But Danjai kept awake, and when his companion was asleep, he rose and placed the wooden mortar for pounding paddy on his mat, and covered it over with a sheet; and he himself retired to a safe place, as he was advised to do by the Tiger’s sister. He watched to see what would happen, and he was not disappointed. Not long after, he saw the Were-Tiger wake up and fetch a sword, and walk up to the place where he was supposed to be asleep. With the sword he made two or three vicious cuts at the wooden mortar, and said:
“Now, Danjai, this will settle you. You will not think of revenging yourself on me any more.”
Then Danjai cried out from where he was: “What is the matter? What are you doing?”
“Oh, Danjai! Is that you?” said his host. “I did not mean to hurt you. I had a bad dream, and I sometimes walk in my sleep. How lucky it is you were not lying on the mat! I should have certainly killed you, and I should never have forgiven myself for doing so. Please understand I meant no harm to you, and let us lie down to rest again.”
On the two following nights the Were-Tiger attempted to kill Danjai, but failed each time, because, following the advice given him, Danjai placed first the wooden mill for husking the paddy on his mat, and next a roll of coarse matting used for treading paddy. His host made the same excuse for his strange behaviour each time.
On the morning of the fourth day, after the Were-Tiger had left the house to see whether any fish had been caught in his fish-trap, his sister asked Danjai to come into the room, as she had something to say to him before he left to return home.
“Now, Danjai,” she said, “as I told you before, since my brother has not been able to kill you these three days, he is in your power. After breakfast ask him to accompany you and show you the way back to your country. When you have both come to the farther end of the sugar-cane plantation, beg him to sit down for a little while, and say you would like to eat some sugar-cane before you leave him and go on your journey alone. When he gives you the sugar-cane, ask him to lend you his sword, giving as an excuse that yours is not sharp enough for peeling the sugar-cane, or that it is stuck fast in its sheath and cannot be drawn. When he hands you his sword, you must attack him with it and kill him. My brother is invulnerable to any other sword but his own. When you have killed him, cut off his head and bring it to me, and I will give you your wife’s head in exchange for it.”
A few minutes after this conversation the Were-Tiger returned with a basket full of fish. Some of these were soon cooked, and they sat down to breakfast.
Soon after they had eaten, Danjai told his host that he must be returning to his own country, and asked him to accompany him and show him his way back. So they started together and walked through the sugar-cane plantation.
Just as they came near the end of it, Danjai begged his companion to stop. He said he would like to have some sugar-cane before going on.
“I am sorry I did not offer you any,” said the Were-Tiger; “it was very forgetful of me. Never mind, I will at once cut down some sugar-cane for us.”
When he had brought the sugar-cane and had finished peeling the piece he wanted for himself, Danjai said to him:
“Please lend me your sword, for mine is stuck fast in its sheath, and I cannot draw it out.”
The Were-Tiger, suspecting nothing, handed the sword to him, and Danjai began peeling his sugar-cane.
Just then the Were-Tiger turned round to look at his house, and Danjai, seizing his opportunity, gave him a blow with the sword and killed him. Then he cut off the head and carried it back with him to the house he had just left.
When he came near, he saw the sister watching for his return, and standing at the top of the ladder leading up to the house. He followed her into the house, and gave her the head of her brother.
“You ought to be quite satisfied now, Danjai,” she said, “for you have taken your revenge for the death of your wife. I want you to promise me certain things before you go. First of all, you must not let anybody know that you have killed my brother. Next, on your return, you must go on the warpath and bring back to me the head of a woman, to enable me to put away the mourning of myself and my relatives for the death of my brother. And then I hope you will take me with you as your wife. And I give you now some locks of my hair, to be used as a charm to make you invisible to the enemy, when you are on the warpath. Lastly, I advise you and your people never to eat or to take away any fruit you may find lying about in the jungle, on the stump of a tree, or on a rock, without knowing for certain who put it there and to whom it belongs, or making sure that it has fallen from some tree near. This must be remembered from generation to generation. Whoever disobeys this advice will be punished by death. You may now have the head of your wife to take back to your country.”
As she finished speaking, she handed him his wife’s head, and Danjai started off at once, for he was anxious to get back.
He reached his house late that same evening. All his friends were glad to see him come back safe and sound. They had given up all hope of seeing him again. They were also pleased to see he had been successful in bringing back the head of his dead wife.
Soon after Danjai’s return from the Were-Tiger’s country, he gathered all his followers together and told them that he intended going on the warpath. As soon as they were able to get everything ready, they started for the enemy’s country. They were very successful, and succeeded in taking many heads; but Danjai, protected as he was by the charm which he had received from the Were-Tiger’s sister, was more successful than the others. They resumed with much rejoicing, and a great feast was held in honour of their victory. The human heads were placed on a costly dish, and the women carried them into the house with dancing and singing.
A few days after, Danjai started to fulfil his promise to the Were-Tiger’s sister. He brought her back with him as his wife, and they lived very happily together for many years.
This story explains why the Dyaks, even at the present day, dare not eat any fruit they may find lying on the stump of a tree, or on a rock in the jungle. They fear that evil will happen to them as it did to Danjai’s wife.