Head-hunters, black, white, and brown

by Alfred C. Haddon

The little chevrotains, planok or pelandok (Tragulus napu and T. javanicus), have the same function as the muntjac so far as a journey is concerned, but otherwise they are not very important.

The Rev. W. Chalmers says: “If the cries of any of the three kinds of deer found in Sarawak be heard when starting on a journey, or when going to consult the birds by day or by night, it is a sure sign that, if the matter in hand be followed up, sickness will be the result. Also if a newly married couple hear them at night they must be divorced, as, if this be not done, the death of the bride or bridegroom will ensue. I myself have known instances of this omen causing a divorce, and I must say the separation has always been borne most philosophically by the parties most concerned; in fact, the morning of one of these divorces, I remember seeing an ex-bridegroom working hard at shaping some ornamental brass-work, which Dayak women are in the habit of wearing round their waists, and he said he intended to bestow it on a certain damsel whom he had in his eye for a new wife.”

Sir Spenser St. John writes: “To hear the cry of a deer is at all times unlucky, and to prevent the sound reaching their ears during a marriage procession gongs and drums are loudly beaten. On the way to their farms, should the unlucky omen be heard, they will return home and do no more work for a day.”

A Malay told me: If a Sarawak Malay was striking a light in the evening in his house, and a pelandok made a noise at the same time, the whole family would have to leave the house for three days; should they not do so, the house would catch fire and be burned down, or sickness or other calamity would overtake them.

On the second day of one of Hose’s journeys through the jungle, the chief who was with him saw a pelandok rush across the path. Hose being behind did not observe it, but he saw all his party sitting on a log, and the chief informed Hose that he could not proceed that day as his “legs were tied up.” This was most inconvenient, as Hose was in a hurry; but the men would not go on. Hose freely took upon himself all the responsibility, and said he would go first and would explain to the pelandok that he was the person in fault. The chief would not agree even to this, and did not budge, but said he would follow the next day. Hose went on with some of the men as far as he could, and then camped. Next day the chief caught Hose up at noon, and appeared very much surprised that no harm had befallen him. Hose chaffed him about his legs, and was “pleased to see that they had become untied”!

The small viverrine carnivore, Arctogale leucotis, is one of the most important omens for Kenyahs and Kayans, who, however, have a particular dread of coming in contact with it, lest it should produce sickness; they will never so much as touch a piece of its dried skin. It is not an omen for the Iban nor for the Punans, who even kill and eat it. After having obtained other omens the Kayans are glad to see the munin, as it is useful in conjunction with other omens, but they do not like to hear it squealing.

The screeching of the large hawk (Haliastur intermedius), which is closely allied to or a sub-species of Brahminy kite (H. indus), is a cautionary sign with the Kayans, and though it is not in itself a bad sign, they will generally return home from any enterprise on hearing it if they are still taking omens, or at all events they will remain where they are for the day. What the Kayan and Kenyahs most desire when “owning” a hawk is to see it skim silently, without moving its wings either to the right or to the left, as they wish it. Any other action than this, such as a swoop down or continued flapping of the wings, is considered unfavourable. Something bad is going to take place, they do not know what it may be or to whom it will happen, so everyone who sees the hawk do this turns away his face, or retires to some place out of the sight of the hawk, lest on being observed he should be the one on whom the misfortune will fall. On such an occasion no one speaks a word, and all return into the house and wait from ten minutes to half an hour. If they are very anxious to go on again that day they slip quietly out of the house so that the hawk may not see them, get into their boats, and start on their journey.

If the hawk appears on the wrong side when men are paddling a few days away from home and nearing another village, they immediately turn the boat right round and pull to the bank and light a fire. By turning round they put the hawk on the right side, and being satisfied in their own minds they proceed on their journey as before.

The hawk, or, as the Iban call it, Sengalong Burong, is a very important being. The little woodpecker (Sasia abnormis), Katupong, is his son-in-law, being married to Dara Inchin Temaga Indu Monkok Chilebok China, a poetical hantu who mentions in her songs the names of all the mouths of the rivers in their order, from Sarawak River to some distance up the coast. This is probably the remnant of a migration saga. The smallest of the trogons (Harpactes duvauceli), beragai, also married another daughter of Sengalong Burong.