II. The Story of Siu, who first Taught the Dyaks to Plant Paddy and to Observe the Omens of Birds.
Many thousands of years ago, before the paddy-plant was known, the Dyaks lived on tapioca, yams, potatoes, and such fruit as they could procure. It was not till Siu taught them how to plant paddy that such a thing as rice was known. The story of how he came to learn of the existence of this important article of food, and how he and his son Seragunting introduced it among their people, is set forth in the following pages.
Siu was the son of a great Dyak Chief. His father died when he was quite a child, and at the time this story begins he lived with his mother, and was the head of a long Dyak house in which lived some three hundred families. He was strong and active, and handsome in appearance, and there was no one in the country round equal to him either in strength or comeliness. When ready to go on the warpath, he was the admiration of all the Dyak damsels. On these occasions he appeared in a many-coloured waist-cloth, twelve fathoms in length, wound round and round his body. On his head he wore a plaited rattan band, in which were stuck some long feathers of the hornbill. His coat was woven of threads of bright colours. On each well-shaped arm was an armlet of ivory. To his belt were fastened his sword and the many charms and amulets that he possessed. With his spear in his right hand and his shield on his left arm, he presented a splendid type of a Dyak warrior. But it is not of Siu’s bravery nor of his deeds of valour against the enemy that this tale relates. It tells only of an adventure which ended in his discovery of paddy.
He proposed to the young men of his house that they should take their blowpipes with them and go into the jungle to shoot birds. So one morning they all started early. Each man had with him his bundle of food for the day, and each went a different way, as they wished to see, on returning in the evening, who would be the most successful of them all.
Siu went towards a mountain not far from his house, and wandered about the whole morning in the jungle, but, strange to say, he did not see any bird, nor did he meet with any animal. Everything was very quiet and still. Worn out with fatigue, he sat down to rest under a large tree, and, feeling hungry, he ate some of the food he had brought with him. It was now long past midday, and he had not been able to kill a single bird! Surely none of the others could be so unfortunate as he! Determined not to be beaten by the others, after a short rest he started again, and wandered on in quest of birds. The sun had gone half-way down in the western heaven, and Siu was beginning to lose heart, when suddenly he heard not far off the sound of birds. Hurrying in that direction, he came to a wild fig-tree covered with ripe fruit, which a large number of birds were busy eating. Never before had he seen such a sight! On this one tree the whole feathered population of the forest seemed to have assembled together! Looking more carefully, he was surprised to see that the different kinds of birds were not all intermingled together as is usually the case, but each species was apart from the others. He saw a large flock of wild pigeons on one branch, and next to them were the parrots, all feeding together, but keeping distinct from them. Upon the same tree there were hornbills, woodpeckers, wild pigeons, and all the different kinds of birds he had ever seen.
Siu hid himself under the thick leaves of a shrub growing near, very much pleased at his luck, and, taking a poisoned dart, he placed it in his blow-pipe, and shot it out. He had aimed at one bird in a particular flock, and hit it. But that bird was not the only one that fell dead at his feet. To his astonishment, he saw that many of the other birds near it were killed also. Again he shot out a dart, and again the same thing happened. In a very short time Siu had killed as many birds as he could carry. As the little basket in which he had brought his food was too small to hold them all, he set to work and made a coarse basket with the bark of a pendok tree growing near. Then he put his load on his back and started to return home, glad that he had been so successful.
He tried to return the same way by which he had come, but as he had not taken the precaution to cut marks in the trees he passed, he very soon found himself in difficulties. He wandered about, sometimes passing by some large tree which he seemed to remember seeing in the morning. He climbed up a steep hill and went several miles through a large forest, but did not find the jungle path which he had followed early in the day. It was beginning to grow dusk and the sun had nearly set.
A Dyak using a Wooden Blow-pipe
He is seated on the ground with his blow-pipe held in position to his mouth. He is just in the act of blowing out one of his poisoned darts, some of which are lying on the ground in front of him. To his waist is fastened the bamboo receptacle in which the darts are kept.
“I must hurry on,” said Siu to himself, “in the hope of finding some house where I can get food and shelter. Once it is dark I shall be forced to spend the night in the jungle.”
Coming to a part of the jungle which had lately been a garden, he thought there must be a path from it leading to some house, so he began to walk round it. Soon he found an old disused path, which he followed. By this time it was quite dark, and Siu made haste to reach the Dyak house which he felt sure was not very far off. He came to a well, and near at hand he saw the lights and heard the usual sounds of a Dyak house. He was glad to think that he would not have to spend the night in the jungle, but would be able to get food and shelter at the house. He stopped to have a bath, and hid the birds he was carrying and his blow-pipe and quiver in the brushwood near the well, hoping to take them with him when he started to return the next morning.
As he approached the house, he could hear the voices of the people there. When he came to the bottom of the ladder leading up to the house, he shouted: “Oh, you people in the house, will you allow a stranger to walk up?” At once there was dead silence in the house. No one answered. Again Siu asked the same question, and after a pause a voice answered, “Yes; come up!”
He walked up into the house. To his surprise he saw no one in the open veranda in front of the different rooms. That part of a Dyak house, usually so crowded, was quite empty. Nor did he hear the voices of people talking in any of the rooms. All was silent. Even the person who answered him was not there to receive him.
He saw a dim light in the veranda further on, in the middle of the house, and walked towards it, wondering the while what could have happened to all the people in the house, for not long before he had heard many voices.
“This seems to be a strange house,” he said to himself. “When I was bathing, and when I walked up to the house, it seemed to be well inhabited, but now that I come in, I see no one and hear no voice.”
When Siu reached the light he sat down on a mat. Presently he heard a woman’s voice in the room say: “Sit down, Siu; I will bring out the pinang[3] and sireh[4] to you.”
Siu was very pleased to hear a human voice. Soon a young and remarkably beautiful girl came out of the room with the chewing ingredients, which she placed before him.
“Here you are at last, Siu,” she said; “I expected you would come earlier. How is it you are so late?”
Siu explained that he had stopped at the well to have a bath, as he was hot and tired.
“You must be very hungry,” said the girl; “wait a moment while I prepare some food. After you have eaten, we can have our talk together.”
When Siu was left to himself, he wondered what it all meant. Here was a long Dyak house, built for more than a hundred families to live in, and yet it seemed quite deserted. The only person in it appeared to be the beautiful girl who was cooking his food for him. Again, he was surprised that she knew his name and expected him that day.
“Come in, Siu,” said the voice from the room; “your food is ready.”
Siu was very hungry, and went in at once, and sat down to eat his dinner.
When they had done eating, she cleared away the plates and put things back into their places and tidied the room. Then she spread out a new mat for him, and brought out the pinang and sireh, and bade him be seated, as she wished to have a chat with him.
Siu had many questions to ask, and as soon as they were both seated, he began:—
“Why are you all alone in this house? This is a long house, and many families must live in it. Where are the others? Why is everything so silent now? I am sure I heard voices before I entered the house; but now I hear no sound.”
“Do not let us talk about this house or the people in it for the present. I would much rather talk of other matters. Tell me of your own people, and what news you bring from your country.”
“There is no news to give you,” Siu replied. “We have been rather badly off for food, as our potatoes and yams did not turn out so well this year as we hoped.”
“Tell me what made you come in this direction, and how it was you found out this house.”
“While I was hunting in the jungle to-day I lost my way. After wandering about a long time, I found a path which I followed and came to this house. It was kind of you to take me in and give me food. If I had not found this house, I would have been lost in the jungle. To-morrow morning you must show me the way to my country, and also I must beg of you some food for my journey back. My mother is sure to be anxious about me. She is left all alone now that I am away. My father died a long time ago, and I am her only son.”
“Do not go away as soon as to-morrow morning. Stay here a few days at any rate.”
At first Siu would not consent, but she spoke so nicely to him that she succeeded in persuading him to stay there at least a week. Then he went out to the veranda, and she brought out a mat for him to sleep on and a sheet to cover himself with. As Siu was very tired, he soon fell sound asleep, and did not wake up till late on the following morning.
He saw some little children playing about the next day, but he did not see any grown-up people. He went into the room to have his morning meal, but saw no one there, except the girl he had seen the evening before. He felt very much inclined to ask her again where the people of the house were, but he did not do so, as she did not seem inclined to speak about them.
Now though Siu knew it not, this was the house of the great Singalang Burong, the Ruler of the Spirit-World. He was able to metamorphose himself and his followers into any form. When going forth on an expedition against the enemy, he would transform himself and his followers into birds, so that they might travel more quickly. Over the high trees of the jungle, over the broad rivers, sometimes even across the sea, Singalang Burong and his flock would fly. There was no trouble about food, for in the forests there were always some wild trees in fruit, and, while assuming the form of birds, they lived on the food of birds. In his own house and among his own people, Singalang Burong appeared as a man. He had eight daughters, and the girl who was cooking food for Siu was the youngest of them.
The reason why the people of the house were so quiet, and did not make their appearance, was because they were all in mourning for many of their relatives who had been killed some time back. Only the women and children were at home, because that same morning all the men had gone forth to make a raid upon some neighbouring tribe, so that they might bring home some human heads to enable them to end their mourning. For it was the custom that the people of a house continued to be in mourning for dead relatives until one or more human heads were brought to the house. Then a feast was held, and all mourning was at an end.
After Siu had been in the house seven days, he thought he ought to think of returning to his own people. By this time he was very much in love with the girl who had been so kind to him, and he wished above all things to marry her, and take her back with him to his own country.
“I have been here a whole week,” he said to her, “and though you have not told me your name, still I seem to know you very well. I have a request to make, and I hope you will not be angry at what I say.”
“Speak on; I promise I will not be angry whatever you may say.”
“I have learnt to love you very much,” said Siu, “and I would like to marry you if you will consent, so that I shall not leave you, but take you with me, when I return to my own land. Also I wish you to tell me your name, and why this house is so silent, and where all the people belonging to it are.”
“I will consent to marry you, for I also love you. But you must first promise me certain things. In the first place, you must not tell your people of this house, and what you have seen here. Then also you must promise faithfully never to hurt a bird or even to hold one in your hands. If ever you break this promise, then we cease to be man and wife. And, of course, you must never kill a bird, because, if you do so, I shall not only leave you, but revenge myself on you. Do you promise these things?”
“Yes,” said Siu; “I promise not to speak of what I have seen here until you give me leave to do so. And as you do not wish it, I will never touch or handle a bird, and certainly never kill one.”
“Now that you have promised what I wish, I will tell you about myself and the people of this house,” said the maiden. “My name is Endu-Sudan-Galinggam-Tinchin-Mas (the girl Sudan painted like a gold ring), but my people call me by my pet names, Bunsu Burong (the youngest of the bird family), and Bunsu Katupong (the youngest of the Katupong family). This house, as you noticed, seems very empty. The reason is that a month ago many of our people were killed by some of the people of your house, and we are all still in mourning for them. As you know, when our relatives have lately died, we stay silent in our rooms, and do not come out to receive visitors or to entertain them. Why are your people so cruel to us? They often kill our men when they go out fishing or hunting. On the morning of the day on which you arrived, all the men of this house went on the warpath, so as to obtain the heads of some of the enemy to enable us to put away our mourning. With us as with you, it is necessary that one or more human heads be brought into the house before the inmates can give up sorrowing for their dead relatives and friends. You see us now in the form of human beings, but all the people in this house are able to transform themselves into birds. My father, Singalang Burong, is the head of this house. I am the youngest of eight sisters; we have no brother alive. Our only brother died not long ago, and we are still in mourning for him, and that is the reason why my sisters did not come out to greet you.”
Siu heard with surprise all she had to say. He said to himself that it was lucky he did not bring up to the house the basket of birds which he had killed in the jungle, and that he had hidden them with his blow-pipe and quiver containing poisoned darts in the brushwood near the well. He determined to say nothing about the matter, as probably some of her friends or relations were among the birds that were killed by him.
So Siu married Bunsu Burong, and continued to live in the house for several weeks.
One day he said to his wife: “I have been here a long time. My people must surely be wondering where I am, and whether I am still alive. My mother, too, must be very anxious about me. I should like to return to my people, and I want you to accompany me. My mother and my friends are sure to welcome you as my wife.”
“Oh yes, I will gladly accompany you back to your home. But you must remember and say nothing of the things you have seen in this house. When shall we start?”
“We can start early to-morrow morning, soon after breakfast,” answered Siu.
They started early the next day, taking with them food enough for four days, as they expected the journey would last as long as that. Siu’s wife seemed to know the way, and after journeying for three days, they came to the stream near the house, and they stopped to have a bath. Some of the children of the house saw them there, and ran up to the house, and said: “Siu has come back, and with him is a beautiful woman, who seems to be his wife.”
Some of the older people checked the children, saying: “It cannot be Siu; he has been dead for a long time. Don’t mention his name, for if his mother hears you talk of him, it will make her very unhappy.”
But the children persisted in saying that it was indeed Siu that they had seen. Just then Siu and his wife appeared and walked up to the house.
Siu said to his wife: “The door before which I hang up my sword is the door of my room. Walk straight in. You will find my mother there, and she will be sure to gladly welcome you as her daughter-in-law.”
When they came into the house, all the inmates rushed out to meet them, and to congratulate Siu on his safe return. They asked him many questions: where had he been living all this time? how he came to be married? and what was the name of his wife’s country? But Siu answered little, as he remembered the promise he had made to his wife, that he would not speak of what he had seen in her house.
When they reached the door of his room, Siu hung up his sword, and his wife went into the room. But she did not see his mother, as she was ill, and was lying in her mosquito-curtain. Then Siu followed his wife into the room, and called out: “Mother, where are you? Here is your son Siu come back!”
But his mother made no answer, so he opened her curtain, and saw her lying down, covered up with a blanket. She had been so troubled at the thought that her son was dead, that she had refused to eat, and had become quite ill.
She would not believe that her son had really returned alive, and she said: “Do not try to deceive me; my son Siu is dead.”
“I am indeed your son Siu, and I have come back alive and well!”
“No,” she replied, “my son Siu is dead. Leave me alone; I have not long to live. Let me die in peace, and follow my son to the grave.”
Siu then went to the box in which his clothes were kept and put on the things that his mother had often seen him wear. Then he went to her again, and said: “Even if you do not believe that I am your son, at any rate you might turn round and look at me, to make sure that I am not your son.”
Then she looked at him, and saw that it was indeed her son. She was so pleased at his return that she soon recovered from her illness, which was really caused by her sorrow and refusal to eat. Siu told his mother of his marriage, and she welcomed his wife with joy.
The women all crowded round Siu’s wife, and asked her what her name was. She answered: “Endu-Sudan-Galinggam-Tinchin-Mas” (The girl Sudan painted like a gold ring). They looked at her in surprise; they had never heard of such a name before.
“Where do you come from?” they asked. “What is the name of your country?”
“Nanga Niga Bekurong Bebali nyadi Tekuyong Mabong” (The mouth of the hidden Niga stream changed into an empty shell),[5] was the reply.
They were astonished at her answer. They had never heard of such a country. They asked her of her people, but she would not say anything more of herself or speak about her people.
Everybody admired the great beauty of Siu’s wife. No more questions were asked of her, as she seemed unwilling to answer. Her parentage remained a mystery.
In process of time Siu’s wife bore him a son whom they named Seragunting. He was a fine child, and as befitted the grandson of Singalang Burong, he grew big and strong in a miraculously short time, and when he was three years old, he was taller and stronger than others four times his age.
One day, as Seragunting was playing with the other boys, a man brought up some birds which he had caught in a trap. As he walked through the house he passed Siu, who was sitting in the open veranda. Siu, forgetting the promise he had made to his wife, asked him to show him the birds, and he took one in his hands and stroked it. His wife was sitting not far off, and saw him hold the bird, and was very much vexed that he had broken his promise to her.
She got up and returned to her room. Siu came in and noticed that she was troubled, and asked her what was wrong. She said that she was only tired.
She said to herself: “My husband has broken his word to me. He has done the thing he promised me he would never do. I told him he was never to hold a bird in his hands, and that if he did such a thing, I would leave him. I cannot stay here in this house any longer. I must return to the house of my father, Singalang Burong.”
She took the water-vessels in her hands, and went out as if to fetch water. But when she came to the well, she placed the water-vessels on the ground and disappeared in the jungle.
A Dyak Girl
Seated on a mat and folding up a petticoat before putting it away. The girls are very careful of their clothing and are often very vain, but when they are married they frequently become very untidy. A woman’s wardrobe is not extensive. It consists of two petticoats and one jacket as a general rule.
Scraping Palm Leaves for Fibre
With this the women tie up the threads they weave, so that when they are dipped in any particular dye the parts which are tied may not be affected by the dye. It is by this means that the different patterns in Dyak cloth are obtained.
In the meantime Seragunting, tired with his play, came back in search of his mother. She was very fond indeed of him, and he expected her to come to him as soon as he called out to her. But he was disappointed. No one answered his call, and when he looked in the room she was not there. He asked his father where his mother was, and he told him that she had just gone to the well to fetch water, and would soon be back.
But hour after hour passed, and she did not return to the house. So Seragunting began to be anxious, and asked his father to accompany him to the well to look for her. At first his father refused to do so, but when he saw his son crying for his mother, he went with him to the well. They found the water-vessels there, but saw no signs of her.
“Your mother is not here, Seragunting,” said Siu. “Perhaps she has gone to the garden to get some vegetables for our dinner. Let us go back to the house. If your mother is not back early to-morrow morning, we will go and look for her.” So they both returned to the house, taking back with them the water-gourds which Siu’s wife had left at the well.
Early the next morning Seragunting and his father went in search of her. They took with them only a little food, as they expected to find her not very far off. But they wandered the whole day, and saw no signs of her. They spent the night under a large tree in the jungle. Early the next morning they were surprised to find a small bundle of food, wrapped up in leaves, near Seragunting. This food was evidently meant for him alone, as it was not enough for two, but he gave some of it to his father, who ate sparingly of it, so that his son might not be hungry. They wandered on for several days, and every night the same strange thing occurred—a bundle of food was left near Seragunting. Siu suggested to his son that they should return; but Seragunting, who during the journey had grown up into a strong lad, with a will of his own, would not consent to do so, as he was determined to find his mother.
They wandered on for several days, deeper and deeper into the jungle, but could find no signs of her whom they sought. At last they came to the sea-shore. Here they rested for some days, in the hope that some boat might pass. Still, as before, each morning a bundle of food was found by Seragunting. If it were not for this food, they would have long ago died of starvation. On this they managed to live, waiting hopefully to see some boat appear to take them on their journey.
One day as Seragunting was watching, he heard the sound of paddles, and saw in the distance several long boats approaching. He hailed the first, and asked the men in it to take him and his father with them. The boat made for the shore, but the man in the bows recognized the two wanderers, and shouted out: “It is Siu and his son Seragunting; do not let them come into the boat.” The boat went on and left them to their fate. The same thing happened in the case of each of the other boats. As soon as Siu and his son were recognized, no one would help them.
Now these were the boats of the sons-in-law of Singalang Burong: Katupong, Beragai, Bejampong, Papau, Nendak, Kutok, and Embuas. They were not pleased at their sister-in-law marrying a mere mortal like Siu, and so refused to help him and his son.
The next day Seragunting saw what seemed to be a dark cloud come towards him over the sea. As it came nearer, it took the form of a gigantic spider, carrying some food and clothes.
“Do not be afraid,” said the Spider; “I have come to help you and your father. I have brought you food and clothing. When you have eaten and changed your clothes I will take you across the water to the land on the other side. My name is Emplawa Jawa (the Spider of Java). I know your history, and I will lead you to your mother whom you seek.”
After they had eaten and put on the new clothes brought them, the spider told them to go with him across the sea. They were not to be afraid, but to follow his track, not turning to the right hand nor to the left. They obeyed his words. Strange to say, the water became as hard as a sandbank under their feet. For a long time they were out of sight of land, but towards evening they approached the opposite shore, and saw a landing-place where there were a large number of boats. Not far off were several houses, and one longer and more imposing than any of the others. To this house the Spider directed Seragunting, telling him that he would find his mother there. The Spider then left them. As it was late, they did not go up to the house that evening, but spent the night in one of the boats at the landing-place. Among the boats were those belonging to the sons-in-law of Singalang Burong, which had passed Siu and his son as they waited on the sea-shore for some boat to take them across the sea.
When Seragunting and his father woke up next morning, they saw that the road leading up to the house had sharpened pieces of bamboo planted close together to prevent their walking up to it. As they were wondering what they were to do next, a fly came to Seragunting, and said:
“Do not be afraid to walk up. Tread on the spikes that I alight on; they will not hurt you. When you come to the house you will find swords with blades turned upwards fastened to the ladder. Tread on the blades that I alight on, and walk boldly up into the house.”
They did as the fly advised them, and were not hurt. The bamboo spikes crumbled under their feet, and the sword-blades they trod on were blunt and harmless.
The people of the house took no notice of them, and they sat down in the veranda of the house. Then the fly came to Seragunting, and whispered to him: “You must now follow me into the room. Your mother is there, lying in her mosquito curtain. I will point out to you which it is, and you must wake her up and tell her who you are. She will be very pleased to see you. Then when you come out into the veranda and see the sons-in-law of Singalang Burong, you must greet them as your uncles. They will disown you, and pretend that you are no relation of theirs. But do not be afraid. You will be victorious in the end.”
Seragunting followed the fly into the room, and went to the curtain on which it alighted. He called out to his mother, and she awoke and saw with joy her son. She embraced him, and he said to her:
“How is it you went away and left us? We missed you so much, and were so sorry to lose you, that my father and I have been travelling for many days and nights in search of you. Now our troubles are over, for I have found you.”
“My dear son,” she said as she caressed him, “though I left you I did not forget you. It was I who placed the food by you every night. I left your father because he broke the promise he made to me. But you are my own son, and I have been wishing to see you ever since I left your house. It was I who sent the Spider to help you and show you your way here. My love for you is as great as it ever was. We will go out now into the veranda, and I will introduce you to your uncles and aunts, and to your grandfather. They may not welcome you, because they were opposed to my marriage to your father. But do not fear them. We will be more than a match for them all.”
Then she spoke to her husband Siu, whom she was glad to meet again. All three then went out into the veranda, which was now full of people. Seragunting called the sons-in-law of Singalang Burong his uncles, but they refused to acknowledge him as their nephew.
They proposed several ordeals to prove the truth of his words, that he was indeed the grandson of Singalang Burong. In all of these Seragunting came off victorious.
As the men and boys were spinning their tops, they asked Seragunting to join them. He had no top of his own, so he asked his mother for one. She took an egg and uttered some mysterious words over it, and immediately it became a top. This she gave to her son, who went and joined the others in the game. Whenever Seragunting aimed at a top, he always hit it and smashed it. None of the others were a match for him. In a short time all the tops, except that of Seragunting, were broken in pieces.
Then they suggested a wrestling match. Seragunting was quite ready to try a fall with any of them, old or young. Some of their best wrestlers came forward. The first two were overthrown by him so easily, that the others saw it was no use their attempting to wrestle with Seragunting.
As a last trial they proposed that all should go out hunting. Here they hoped to be more fortunate. All the sons-in-law of Singalang Burong took their good hunting dogs with them, confident of success. Seragunting was told that he could have any of the other dogs left in the house. There he saw a few old dogs, weak and useless for hunting. With these he was expected to compete against the others, and if he were not successful, both he and his father were to be killed! Seragunting consented even to such an unfair ordeal as that. He called to him an old sickly-looking dog and gently stroked it. At once it became young and strong! While the others went forth into the jungle with a pack of hounds, Seragunting was only accompanied by one dog. In the evening Katupong, Beragai, Bejampong, and the others all returned unsuccessful. Soon after Seragunting’s dog appeared, chasing a huge boar, which made a stand at the foot of the ladder of the house. Seragunting asked the others to kill the beast if they dared. The spears cast at it glided off and left the beast unharmed. Some of those who were rash enough to go near the animal had a close escape from being torn in pieces by its tusks.
Seragunting, armed with nothing better than a little knife belonging to his mother, walked up to the infuriated animal and stabbed it in a vital part, and it fell down dead at his feet.
After these marvellous feats, all were compelled to admit that Seragunting was a true grandson of the great Singalang Burong. They all acknowledged him as such, and he was taken to his grandfather, who was pleased to see the lad, and promised to help him throughout his life.
Dyaks making a Dam for Tuba Fishing
The poison from the tuba root is put in the water some distance up river, and the Dyaks follow it as it drifts, and spear and net the poisoned fish. The tuba does not seem to affect the flesh of the fish, which can be cooked and eaten. Many fish swim down river to escape the poison. These come to this dam, in which there is an opening leading to an enclosure; in this the fish congregate and are afterwards captured.
But Siu was unhappy in his new home. He could not help thinking of his mother, whom he had left alone, and he was anxious to return to his own people. He begged his wife to accompany him back to his old home, but she refused to do so. It was decided that Siu and his son should stay in the house of Singalang Burong till they had obtained such knowledge as would be useful to them in the future, and that then they were to return to the lower world, bringing with them the secrets they had learnt from those wiser and more powerful than themselves.
All the people of the house were now most kind to Siu and his son, and were most anxious to teach them all they could. They were taken on a war expedition against the enemy, so that they might learn the science and art of Dyak warfare. They were taught how to set traps to catch deer and wild pig. They were shown the different methods of catching fish, and learnt to make the different kinds of fish-trap used by the Dyaks of the present day. They remained in Singalang Burong’s house that whole year so that they might have a complete and practical knowledge of the different stages of paddy-growing.
When the year was ended, Seragunting’s mother took him and Siu to see her father, Singalang Burong, so that they might receive from him his advice, as well as such charms as he might wish to give them before they left to return to the lower world of mortals.
Singalang Burong was sitting in his chair of state, and received them most kindly. He bade them be seated on the mat at his feet, as he had many things to say to them. Then he explained to Siu and his son who he was, and the worship due to him, and they learnt also about the observance of omens, both good and bad.
“I am the Ruler of the Spirit-World,” said Singalang Burong, “and have the power to make men successful in all they undertake. At all times if you wish for my help, you must call upon me and make offerings to me. Especially must this be done before you go to fight against the enemy, for I am the God of War, and help those who pay me due respect.
“You have learnt here how to plant paddy. I will give you some paddy to take away with you, and when you get back to your own country, you can teach men how to cultivate it. You will find rice a much more strengthening article of food than the yams and potatoes you used to live upon, and you will become a strong and hardy race.
“And to help you in your daily work, my sons-in-law will always tell you whether that you do is right or wrong. In every work that you undertake you must pay heed to the voices of the sacred birds—Katupong, Beragai, Bejampong, Papau, Nendak, Kutok, and Embuas. These birds, named after my sons-in-law, represent them, and are the means by which I make known my wishes to mankind. When you hear them, remember it is myself speaking through my sons-in-law for encouragement or for warning. Whatever work you may be engaged in,—farm-work, house-building, fishing, or hunting—wherever you may be you must always do as these birds direct. Whenever you have a feast, you must make an offering to me, and you must call upon my sons-in-law to come and partake of the feast. If you do not do these things, some evil is sure to happen to you. I am willing to help you and to give you prosperity, but I expect due respect to be paid to me, and will not allow my commands to be disobeyed.”
Then Singalang Burong presented them with many charms to take away with them. They were of various kinds. Some had the power to make the owner brave and fortunate in war. Others were to preserve him in good health, or to make him successful in his paddy-planting, and cause him to have good harvests.
Siu and Seragunting then bade their friends farewell and started to return. As soon as they had descended the ladder of the house of Singalang Burong, they were swiftly transported through the air by some mysterious power, and in a moment they found themselves at the bathing-place of their own house.
Their friends crowded round them, glad to see them back safe and well. They were taken with much rejoicing to the house. Friends and neighbours were told of their return, and a great meeting was held that evening. All gathered round the two adventurers, who told them of their strange experiences in the far country of the Spirit Birds. The charms received from Singalang Burong were handed round for general admiration. The new seed, paddy, was produced, and the good qualities of rice as an article of food explained. The people congregated there had never seen paddy before, but all determined to be guided by Siu and Seragunting, and to plant it in future. The different names of the sacred birds were told to the assembled people, and all were warned to pay due respect to their cries.
And so, according to the ancient legend, ended the old primitive life of the Dyak, when he lived upon such poor food as the fruits of the jungle, and any yams and potatoes he happened to plant near his house; the old blind existence, in which there was nothing to guide him; and then began his new life, in which he advanced forward a step, and learnt to have regularly, year by year, his seed-time and harvest, and to know that there were unseen powers ruling the universe, whose will might be learnt by mankind, and obedience to whom would bring success and happiness.