Head-hunters, black, white, and brown

by Alfred C. Haddon

Unfortunately while the lake was being tuba’ed the river rose, and so the increase of the water prevented the operation from being a success, and only a few small fish were obtained. Some twenty-five piculs (over three thousand pounds) of tuba had been provided by natives from all over the district, and this would have proved sufficient for the purpose had not the heavy rains caused floods.

A very large number of men and boats were engaged, and we all spent an enjoyable day, for as a native chief remarked some time previously, when the arrangements were being made, “The scale on which the tubaing was done and the general excitement would please the people even if no fish were caught.”

The second boat race took place early on the morning of the 12th; sixteen canoes started, seven of which belonged to the Kenyahs, four to the Kayans, and four to other up-river tribes; the Naroms of Baram had one canoe. The number of each crew was unlimited, and some boats carried as many as sixty or seventy men, so that there must have been about a thousand engaged in the race.

The first prize of fifty dollars was won by the Naroms by about two lengths; the Long Kiputs gained the second place and a prize of ten dollars. The course was about 3¼ miles and the time was 15 minutes 10 seconds. The Oxford and Cambridge course from Putney to Mortlake is 4¼ miles, and the average time for the last ten years is 20 minutes 34½ seconds. Thus the speed of these untrained natives is slightly faster than that of a trained University crew, but it is doubtful whether this would be the case if the Baram course were as long as that on the Thames; further, it must be remembered that in Borneo they paddled down a fairly large swift river, whereas on the Thames they row on a full tide.

Many of the Tinjar people were delayed by one or two deaths occurring, so they arrived too late to participate in the great race of war-canoes. But as they wanted to maintain the honour of their river, Taman Liri of Long Tegin and the Lelaks of Long Tru challenged the Naroms to a supplemental race. This was rowed on the evening of the 13th, the course being about a mile. The result was a dead heat, which was gratifying to the pride of the Tinjar folk.

The final public meeting took place on the morning of the 13th; by this time nearly everyone had arrived who was expected; amongst the late comers was Saba Irang, the head chief of the Madangs ([Pl. XXIX., C., p. 376]). On a low staging in front of the platform reclined three enormous pigs, with tied legs, which the Resident had provided for the purpose of swearing peace and friendship; one was primarily intended for the Baram tribes, one for the Lirongs of the Tinjar, and the third for the Madangs. At the other end of the hall was a gigantic gaily painted model of a hornbill, on which a very large number of cigarettes were suspended. The body was a large barrel; each wing consisted of two hairy Kenyah or Madang shields, and the head had been skilfully hewn out of a great block of wood by Iban fortmen. A model of a hornbill is the customary table-piece, so to speak, of an Iban feast, but this “Penchallong” or “Tenyalang” surpassed the usual effigy as much as this occasion transcended an ordinary feast ([Pl. XXXI., B]). A great quantity of borak was provided, which was duly despatched at the close of the meeting.

After a little preliminary talking the following representative chiefs crouched by the pigs: Saba Irang, a Madang; Taman Oding Silong, a Kenyah; Taman Balan Deng, an Upper Tinjar Long Pokun; Taman Aping Bulieng, a Lirong; Jangan, an Upper Tinjar Sĕbop, and others. Saba Irang, taking a glowing brand, singed a pig and spoke to it, telling it to act as a witness in the ceremony of peace-making. He solemnly swore that he and his people would be friends with those now assembled, and would not combine with outside enemies against them, and he himself, so far as he had the power, would endeavour to prevent others from breaking the peace. Should they break this solemn oath, they hoped that the gods would call down upon them all sorts of illness, and that they might be destroyed by crocodiles or other harmful beasts.

Tama Bulan then pointed out that the Baram people had formerly taken a similar oath, which they had kept. Now they were making friends with the Madangs, and were in future to be one people. Old scores had been wiped out, and there was nothing now to complain of. The Government had brought them together, and they had mixed with one another and had discussed old troubles; now was the time to speak if they had anything to say.

Dr. Hose stood up and said, “Now you have sworn the inviolable oath. This meeting was assembled that there should be a lasting peace in the district. There is nothing to gain by war, but everything to gain by peace. The difficulty in the past has been to make enemies meet one another with a view to settling their differences amicably; now this difficulty has been overcome, thanks mainly to the assistance of those chiefs who have supported me. Now all of you present! see this multitude, and bear in mind that whoever breaks this oath, which has been taken to-day in the presence of everybody, does so at his own peril. Who of you would dare after this to kill anyone if he thought what the consequences would be? It would be a matter of only a few minutes to wipe him and his people off the face of the earth. The Rajah’s dogs will hunt, if it prove necessary to call them out; as is known to everybody, they require no hounding on. So remember the oath, and peace, I hope, is assured.”