A good-sized domestic pig had been brought in dependent from a long pole about which its feet had been tied, and it was deposited at the base of the kapatong. One man held an upright stick between the legs of the animal, while another opened the artery of the neck with one thrust of his knife. The pig was next lifted up by the carrying-pole so that the blood might run into a vessel, which was handed to a man who climbed the kapatong and smeared blood on the image of a human being at the top. This indicated that the feast was for the benefit of the soul of that ironwood statue, because it is an invariable custom for the blood of a sacrificed animal to be smeared on the principals of any feast or ceremony, and this is also done when attempting to cure or ward off illness. The same custom obtains in the case of those about to be married; or, if children are to be named, if a move is made to a new home, blood is first daubed on the house.
The pig was then carried a little farther away, where the space was more favourable for dancing, which soon began to our edification. It was the same type of dance that is universal among the Dayaks wherever I have been, although other varieties are seen in Borneo. This principal one consists of moving in a circle around the sacrificial offering, which is lying at the foot of an upright rod to the top of which a piece of cloth is tied, or at the base of a sacred jar (blanga). The participants join hands, and the movement is slow because an essential feature consists in bending the knees—heels together—down and up again, slowly and in time; then, moving one step to the left and bringing right heel to left, the kneeling is repeated, and so on. The men danced for a long time, at first by themselves, then the women by themselves, but most of the time the circle was made up of alternate men and women. The latter, most of them stocky and somewhat coarse-looking, danced with surprising excellence. Though children of nature may be without good looks, there is decided attraction in their grace and easy movements.
It did not look difficult, so I joined in the dancing, as I have done many times among other races. Greatly to the amusement of the natives I demonstrated that I had caught the right steps, and then seated myself in a chair which was the pride of the kapala and which had been brought out for my benefit. While watching the performance I was surprised to see two of the women, about the only ones who possessed any charm of appearance, coming toward me, singing as they advanced. Each took me by a hand and, still singing, led me forward to the dancing circle, where a man who had been offering rice brandy to the people from a huge horn of the water-buffalo adorned with wood shavings, stepped forward and offered it to me. Lifting it I applied my face to the wide opening as if drinking. Twice I pretended to drink, and after participating a while longer in the activities I retired to my place of observation.
No doubt the Dayaks had gladly acceded to my wishes in making the feast, because dancing and sacrifice are believed to attract good spirits which may be of assistance to them. In the evening there was a banquet with the pig as the pièce de résistance; and a young fowl was sent to me as a present.
CHAPTER XIII
DAYAK CURE OF DISEASE—EVIL SPIRITS AND GOOD—ANIMISM—BLIANS, THE PRIEST-DOCTORS—THE FEAST OF RUBBER-GATHERERS—WEDDINGS—IN PRIMITIVE SURROUNDINGS
A day or two later the kapala, evidently solicitous about our comfort, asked permission to perform for three consecutive nights certain rites for the purpose of curing several sick persons. The reason for his request was that they might be noisy and prove disturbing to our rest. The ceremonies consisted in singing and beating drums for three hours, in order to attract good spirits and drive away the evil ones that had caused the illness. One of the patients, who had malaria, told me later that he had been cured by the nightly service, which had cost him forty florins to the doctor.
Among the aborigines of Borneo whom I visited, with the possible exception of the Punan nomads, the belief in evil spirits and in good ones that counteract them, both called antoh, is universal, and to some extent has been adopted by the Malays. Though various tribes have their own designations (in the Duhoi (Ot-Danum) ùntu; Katingan, talúm; Kapuas, telún; Kahayan, kambae), still the name antoh is recognised throughout Dutch Borneo. Apprehension of evil being predominant in human minds, the word is enough to cause a shudder even to some Malays. There are many kinds of both evil and good antohs; some are male, some female, and they are invisible, like the wind, but have power to manifest themselves when they desire to do so. Though sometimes appearing as an animal or bird, an antoh usually assumes the shape of a man, though much larger than an ordinary human being. Caves in the mountains are favourite haunts of evil antohs. In the great rivers, like the Barito and the Katingan, are many of huge size, larger than those in the mountains. Trees, animals, and even all lifeless objects, are possessed by antohs good or bad. According to the Katingans the sun is a benevolent masculine antoh which sleeps at night. The moon is a feminine antoh, also beneficent. Stars are the children of the sun and moon—some good, some bad.
To drive away malevolent antohs and attract benignant ones is the problem in the life philosophy of the Dayaks. The evil ones not only make him ill and cause his death, but they are at the bottom of all troubles in life. In order to attract the good ones sacrifices are made of a fowl, a pig, a water-buffalo, or, formerly, a slave. Hens' eggs may also be proffered, but usually as adjuncts to the sacrifice of an animal. If a child is ill the Katingan makes a vow that he will give Antoh from three to seven eggs or more if the child becomes well. If it fails to recover the offering is not made.
The blood is the more precious part, which the Bahau of the Mahakam, and other tribes, offer plain as well as mixed with uncooked rice. The people eat the meat themselves, but some of it is offered to the well-disposed antoh and to the other one as well, for the Dayaks are determined to leave no stone unturned in their purpose of defeating the latter. The Duhoi (Ot-Danums) told me: "When fowl or babi are sacrificed we never forget to throw the blood and rice mixture toward the sun, moon, and 'three of the planets.'" With the Katingans the blian (priest-doctor) always drinks a little of the blood when an animal is sacrificed.