Taman Aping Buling, the chief of Long Dapoi and penghulu of the Upper Tinjar, and his people were in great distress owing to the recent loss of their former fine house by fire. It was not known how the fire arose, as it occurred when most of the people were away working on their padi farms. The village house was exceedingly well built, and was the largest house in all the Tinjar District. We saw the mournful rows of charred piles, and there was no reason to doubt the statement of the people that they had lost a large proportion of their worldly goods. They now occupy makeshift huts until the harvest is gathered in, when they will rebuild. They however found time to erect a comfortable little house for us to stay in, and were very anxious that we should spend some time with them.
Hose had a good deal of business to do, and so on the following morning, while we measured heads, he went into the penghulu’s house and settled a number of cases of various kinds. Amongst these was one assault case, and complaints of diverse natives with regard to land grabbing. Further information was also obtained respecting the panyamun scare. It appears that one Turing, a Sĕbop, came up river to Long Dapoi, about ten days ago, and told Ajang, Taman Gau, and Suran, of this village, that he had narrowly escaped being killed by panyamun (or “robbers”), and had he not been near the house he would certainly have lost his life. The robbers were armed with spears and other weapons. When closely questioned who the people resembled were, he said, “Kayans from the Baram”; and when asked if he could recognise any of their faces, he said, “No, I was too frightened.” Here, then, was evidence that could be dealt with as regards the statement of Turing, as all three men were willing to swear that they heard Turing make the above statement. It was necessary for these three men and the penghulu to meet Turing. Hose therefore arranged with the penghulu that either Turing should be called here, or, if they wished it, they could accompany Hose when he went down river, as Turing was living in the Lower Tinjar; something in the way of expenses would, of course, be allowed should their statement prove correct. They were all not only willing but anxious to go with us on our return. All the people were glad to have this matter cleared up, and it appeared that there was every chance of the guilty parties being discovered.
When Hose had finished his business we continued our journeying by ascending the Dapoi, a beautiful affluent of the Tinjar. Along the greater extent of its banks are native plantations of bananas, sugar-cane, and other edible plants; the low hills between which the river flows are largely deforested for the cultivation of padi. This small, swift river is a favourite one with the natives, and is well populated.
We reached our furthest point, at a distance of some two hundred miles from Marudi, on the evening of February 24th, at Long Sulan, on the Dapoi River. This is the largest village I had yet seen in this district; probably about fifteen hundred men, women, and children live here, and wherever I went I was followed about by swarms of children. The people are Long Pokuns, and belong to the Kayan group.
In front of the main house and facing the river was a large wooden model of a man holding a shield and waving a spear. This was a representation of Balli Atap, whose function is to ward off all sickness and misfortune. Beside him was a roughly carved image of Tegulan, who also keeps off sickness from people, and by means of this image you can either curse a man or prevent him from cursing you.
Behind these were two wooden effigies of the tiger (linjau), facing different ways. The object of these figures is to impress the enemies of the village with the idea that the inhabitants are as fierce as tigers, and should not be meddled with. They were intended to serve the same purpose as the sentiment in the chorus of the famous music-hall song—
“We don’t want to fight,
But by Jingo if we do!”
Near these symbols of ferocity was a framework on which were some curiously shaped stones. Usually similar stones are placed on separate posts outside houses, and as a rule these are simply rounded boulders which the natives believe have the power of increasing in size with age. In several places the natives tell stories about the stones being originally very small when they were in another district, but since then they have grown, and you can see how large they are now. A sacrificial fire is lit near them, or even a flaming firebrand will suffice. Fowl’s or pig’s blood is on ceremonial occasions smeared on the stones. This is always done when it is necessary to consult the omen birds before making a long journey or before setting out on the war-path. The fire conveys to the god the messages and desires of the worshippers. I am not quite clear what part the stones are supposed to play in this ceremony. I was informed that the fire is entreated to tell the stones to inform the god of the desires of the sacrificers, but I would rather not commit myself to this statement until it has been verified.
