The Pagan Tribes of Borneo / A Description of Their Physical Moral and Intellectual Condition, with Some Discussion of Their Ethnic Relations

by Charles Hose; William McDougall

The establishment of the Rajah's government has thus involved no breaking up of the old forms of society, no attempt to recast it after any foreign model, but has merely supplied the elements that were lacking to the system, if it was to enable men to live at peace, to prosper and multiply, and to enjoy the fruits of their labours. But though we describe the society of Sarawak as being now a completed structure, the simile is inadequate and might mislead. The structure is not that of a rigid building, but of a living organisation; and its efficiency and permanence depend upon the unceasing activities of all its parts, each conscious of the whole and of its own essential role in the life of the whole, and each animated by a common spirit of unswerving devotion to, and untiring effort in the cause of, the whole. The Rajah's power rests upon the broad base of the people's willing co-operation; he in turn is for them the symbol of the whole, by the aid of which they are enabled to think of the state as their common country and common object of devotion; and from him there descends through his officers the spirit which animates the whole, a spirit of reciprocal confidence, justice, goodwill, and devotion to duty. The system is in fact the realisation of the ideal of monarchy or personal government; its successful working depends above all on the character and intellect of the man who stands at the head of the state; and the steady progress of all better aspects of civilisation in Sarawak, a progress which has evoked the warm praise of many experienced and independent observers,[214] has been due to the fact that the resolution, the tact and sympathy, the wisdom and high ideals which enabled the first of its English Rajahs to establish his authority, have been unfailingly displayed in no less degree by his successor throughout his long reign.

It is obvious that this permeation of the whole system of government by the spirit of its head can only be perpetuated by constant personal intercourse between him and his officers and between the officers of the various grades. This has been a main principle observed by the Rajah. He has frequently visited the district stations, to spend a few days in consultation with his white officers, and to renew his personal acquaintance with the local chiefs, who spontaneously assemble to await his arrival. Such visits to any station have seldom been made at greater intervals than one year; and these annual meetings at the district stations between the Rajah and his officers of all grades have been of the utmost value in preserving the profound and personal respect with which he is regarded throughout the land and which is in due measure reflected to his representatives, both white and native. The Rajah has also kept himself in close touch with the Residents and the affairs even of the remotest districts by encouraging the Residents to write to him personally and fully on all important matters, and by writing with his own hand full and prompt replies.

The foregoing brief account of the system of government will have accentuated its essentially personal character; and it will have made clear the necessity for constant personal intercourse between the officers of various grades, and for the long excursions of the Residents into the interior parts of their districts, one of which we propose to describe as an illustration of the intimate working of the administrative system. For in the larger and wilder districts the Resident's station may be separated from populous villages by a tract of wild jungle country, the return journey over which cannot be accomplished in less than a month or even more.

The journey we are about to describe, as illustrative of the administrative labours of the Resident of one of the wilder districts, was made in the Baram in the year 1898 by one of us (C. H.) in the course of his official duties and in part only by the joint-author of this book. A slight sketch of the political history and condition of the Baram is required to render intelligible the objects of the journey and the course of events. The Baram was added to Sarawak territory, under the circumstances described above (vol. ii. p. 261), in the year 1882. At that time it enjoyed the reputation of a wild and dangerous region, owing to the strength of the Kayans, who, dwelling in all the middle parts of the rivers, had made a number of bold raids as far as the coast and even to the neighbourhood of Bruni. The Sea Dayaks had obtained no footing in the river, and the Klemantans, who dwelt in the lower reaches, had proved quite incapable of withstanding their formidable neighbours. The latter had driven them out of the more desirable parts of the river, had made many slaves, and had appropriated many of the valuable caves in which they had gathered the edible nests of the swift. But considerable numbers of the Klemantans remained in the lower reaches and in some of the tributary rivers. The upper waters of the Baram were occupied mainly by Kenyah communities; and about the watershed in which the Baram, the Rejang, and the Batang Kayan have their sources (a mountainous highland, geographically the very centre of the island, known as Usun Apo), were the Madangs, a powerful sub-tribe of the Kenyahs, whose reputation as warriors was second to none. In 1883 a fort was built at Marudi (now officially known as Claudetown), a spot on the river-bank some sixty miles from the sea, the first spot at which in ascending the river a high bank suitable for a settlement is encountered. Here Mr. Claude de Crespigny, assisted by two junior officers, a squad of some thirty rangers, and a few native police, began the task of introducing law and order into these 10,000 square miles of dense jungles, rushing rivers, and high mountains, the scene for unknown ages of the hard perpetual struggle of savage man with nature, and of the fierce conflict of man with man. At first the interior tribes remained aloof, and the little outpost of civilisation was frequently threatened by them with extermination. But after some few years the Kayans of the lower villages became reconciled to the new state of affairs, recognised the authority of the Rajah and of the Resident, and consented to pay the small annual door-tax amounting to two dollars per family or door.

These were the Kayans of villages that were readily accessible because seated on reaches of the river navigable by the Resident's steam-launch, that is, not more than seventy miles above Claudetown. It was soon realised that the people of the remoter parts were only to be brought under the Rajah's government by means of friendly visits of the Resident to their villages. This policy was actively pursued by Mr. Charles Hose, who had become assistant to the Resident in 1884, officer in charge in 1888, and Resident in 1890; some four or five long journeys were made each year, each occupying several weeks. During these journeys, which were necessarily made in the native boats, the Resident would spend the nights, whenever possible, in the native houses, sometimes whiling away several days in friendly intercourse with his hosts, and thus acquiring much useful information as well as more intimate understanding of their characters, languages, and customs. In this way the area of government control was extended step by step, until about the year 1891 practically all the inhabitants of the Baram had accepted the Rajah's government and acknowledged it by the payment of some tax, however small. The chiefs of the Klemantans and their people were for the most part very glad to place themselves under the protection of this new government; but the Kayans and Kenyahs, not feeling themselves to be in need of any such protection, were less ready to accept the Resident's proposals. Two considerations mainly induced them to take this course: first, they desired peace, or at any rate less warfare, and it was possible to convince them that this result might be achieved by pointing to other districts such as the Rejang, with whose affairs they had some acquaintance. Secondly, they found that a Chinese bazaar had sprung up at Claudetown, and that, as soon as they accepted the Rajah's government, they would obtain greatly increased facilities for driving the highly profitable trade in jungle produce; for, before they had come under the government, the Chinese and Malay traders had hardly ventured to penetrate to their remote villages with their cloths and lucifer matches, hardware, steel bars, and other much-coveted goods.

Several of the most influential chiefs who had early showed themselves staunch friends of the government were made PENGHULUS, and have long continued by their example and influence energetically to support the Resident, notably the Kayan, Tama Usong, and the Kenyah, Tama Bulan (see Pls. 49, 27). The latter especially, though not one of the first to come in, exercised his great influence consistently, wisely, and energetically, in support of the Resident and in the establishment of peace and order throughout the district and even beyond its boundaries. But he was only one of several chiefs who have displayed a high degree of enlightenment and moral qualities of a very high order.

The hostility of the Kalabits on the north-eastern border, who persistently raided those villages of their fellow-tribesmen that had come under the government, had necessitated an expedition against them in 1893. And Sea Dayak parties of jungle workers had on more than one occasion stirred up serious trouble. But, in spite of these difficulties, by the year 1898 all the inhabitants of the district were paying the regular door-tax, crimes of violence had been almost abolished, trade was everywhere increasing, and peace was assured, save for the threat to it from one quarter, namely, the Madangs of Usun Apo and the neighbouring powerful settlements of Kenyahs across the water-parting in the head-waters of the Batang Kayan. It had always been a weakness of the Rajah's government that it could assure to the Baram people no protection against attack from those regions, the latter of which, though nominally Dutch territory, was not yet controlled by the Dutch government. In the year 1897 a numerous band of Madangs had migrated into the extreme head of the Baram from the corresponding and closely adjoining part of the Rejang, largely owing to the pressure put upon them by the ever roving and meddlesome Sea Dayaks. Neither these Madangs nor the Kenyahs of the Batang Kayan had entered into friendly relations with the Sarawak government, and they had preserved a hostile attitude towards the Baram tribes. The Resident therefore determined to visit the Madangs, and to invite Kenyah chiefs from the Batang Kayan to meet him on the extreme edge of the Sarawak territory, in order to open friendly intercourse with them, and to persuade them if possible to attend a general peace-meeting at Claudetown, at which the outstanding feuds between them and the Baram folk might be ceremonially washed out in the blood of pigs. For, if this attempt could be carried to a successful issue, it would go far to assure the peace of the whole district, and would add considerably to the volume of trade descending the Baram River: An additional feature of the programme was that the Resident should take with him on his visit a number of the Baram chiefs, and should in the course of the journey make arrangements with the largest possible number of chiefs for their attendance at the proposed peace-making.

Accordingly, on the 9th of October 1898, we started from Claudetown in the Resident's launch with a retinue of half a dozen Sea Dayak rangers and two policemen, and towing some half a dozen boats, including one for our own use up-river. After spending a day in visiting villages in the lower Tinjar, the largest tributary of the Baram, we resumed the journey up-river and reached the village of Long Tamala. There we were joined by the chiefs of the two houses Tama Aping Nipa and Tama Aping Kuleh, and were most hospitably entertained by the former. On the following morning we again steamed up-river, having added to our train these two Kenyah chiefs, each with a boat's crew of fighting men, they having agreed to make the whole journey with us. After stopping at several villages at which the Resident's services were in request for the settlement of disputed questions, in the afternoon we reached Long Tajin, a big Kayan village, and were welcomed by Juman, the chief, and his wife Sulau, a woman of strikingly handsome and refined features and graceful aristocratic manner (Pl. 31). She is the daughter of the late Aban Jau, who was for many years the most powerful chief of the Tinjar Sebops. He had long resisted the advances of the Resident, and had submitted to the Rajah's government only after a long course of patient persuasion. He had regarded himself as the up-river Rajah, and had never ceased to regret the old state of affairs. "I'm an old man now," he told the Resident, "but if I were as salt as I used to be, the Rajah would not have taken possession of the Baram without a struggle." Another of his many picturesque sayings seems worth recording: "Your Rajah may govern the down-river people; they are inside the Sultan's fence and he had the right to hand them over. But over us he had no authority; we are the tigers of the jungle and have never been tamed." He had frequently threatened to attack the fort; and when he had sent to the Resident a message to that effect in the usual symbolic language, the latter's only reply had been to go up to his house with two or three men only, and to spend five days there as Aban Jau's guest, and to persuade him to come down to Claudetown to meet the Rajah.

The evening was spent in discussing the prospects of the expedition with Juman and other chiefs, some of whom took a gloomy view. The following morning the steam-launch was sent downriver, and we took to the boats and paddled a short stage to Bawang Takun, another large Kayan village, where we stayed over-night to give the people time to prepare their boats and the Resident the opportunity for some judicial inquiries. There was heavy rain throughout the night, and in the morning the river, which in this part of its course runs between limestone cliffs, was rushing so rapidly that we could only make progress by repeatedly crossing the river to seek the slack-water side of each reach. Failing to reach any village, we passed the night in rude shelters on the bank. On the following day the river was still in flood, but we reached Long Lawa, a Kayan village, and decided to wait there until the river should subside to a more normal condition. Here a party of Kenyahs met us, sent by Tama Bulan to conduct us to his house some two or three days' journey up the Pata tributary. On the morning of the 16th the river had fallen ten feet, and starting at daybreak we reached the mouth of the Pata, and camped on a KERANGAN or pebble-bed beautifully situated among the forest-clad slopes a little way up the Pata. In the course of the day a boatful of Kayans from the Apoh had joined us. On the 17th we had an exciting day working up the rapids and waterfalls of the Pata, and reached Long Lutin, a very large Kayan village of many long houses, most pleasantly situated and surrounded by hills clothed with the rich green of the young PADI crop. Here we spent the night in the house of the principal chief, Laki Lah, a quaint old bachelor, whom we greatly astonished by eating plum-pudding with burning brandy upon it.

Another day's journey over a long series of rapids brought us to the house of Tama Bulan, at that time the most influential chief of the Baram. We found there a number of Kenyah chiefs from the upper reaches of the Pata awaiting our arrival. Tama Bulan, who was strongly in favour of carrying through the Resident's plan, eloquently supported it during the hospitable procedures of the evening, assuring the assembled chiefs that the journey would finally resolve the troubles of the Baram. As usual there was no lack of enterprise and "go" among the Kenyahs, and they were all keen to make the venture; while the Kayans on the other hand were, as always, more cautious, more inclined to dwell on the possibilities of failure, and slower to take up the plan and make it their own. The Kenyahs had not yet completed the taking of omens for the expedition, and the following days were devoted to this process (see vol. ii. p. 52), Tama Bulan and his people taking omens for the whole of the Kenyah contingent, while Juman went on to prepare the people of the Akar. In the course of the day Tama Bulan accompanied us on visits to several neighbouring Kenyah villages situated a little farther up the river. In the evening we had another convivial meeting with great flow of oratory and rice-spirit. On the third day, favourable omens having been observed, sacrifices of pigs and fowls were offered before the altar-posts of the war-god, and the various rites needful to complete the preparation for a long journey were performed (see Pl. 157). In the afternoon the Resident inspected the site for a bungalow or block-house which the Kenyahs proposed to make (and have since erected) for the use of the government's officers.