On October 23rd we left Tama Bulan's house with a party of about one hundred all told, in several boats. We were joined at Long Lutin by Laki Lah and a boatful of his Kayans, made a rapid passage to Long Pata (the spot where the Pata joins the Baram), and resumed the toilsome ascent of the main river to reach the Akar. That evening we reached a Kenyah village at Long Lawan, and as usual we were hospitably entertained with the fatted pig and brimming cups of rice-spirit. The weather was now brilliantly fine and the river of only normal swiftness, and we passed the night in a Kenyah house in the Akar. Here we spent two days awaiting the arrival of a party of Kayans from the upper Akar. The Kayans having arrived, another general discussion of the plan of operations was held; and on the third day the expedition returned to the Baram, and after surmounting the difficulties presented by many rapids and a narrow gorge at Batu Pita, entered the Silat on the 28th. The Silat is the uppermost of the large tributaries of the Baram (Pl. 200). It descends from the Madang country, winding round the foot of the Batu Tujoh, a limestone mountain of 5000 feet. All this country is at a considerable height above sea-level (1000 feet and more), and the climate is much cooler and more bracing than that of the lower levels. It is a land of many streams and hills. All the lower slopes have been cleared and cultivated by the Kenyahs, so that it presents a more open and smiling aspect than the lower country, where the clearings are but tiny islands in the vast ocean of gloomy forest. The river itself is even more beautiful than the other tributaries of the Baram, lovely as all these are in their upper reaches. This was not the first exploration of the Silat, for the Resident had twice before journeyed up its lower reaches; but on this occasion it was necessary to penetrate to its very head, in order to reach the villages of the principal Madang chiefs, Saba Irang and Tama Usun Tasi. So for five days the expedition toiled up the Silat, and during these days Juman, Laki Lah, and most of the Kayans turned back, their confidence being shaken by the unfamiliar aspect of the country, by the neighbourhood of the hitherto hostile Madangs, and by the bad dream of one of their chiefs and the illness of another. On the fifth day the diminished fleet of boats entered the Lata, a tributary coming down from the Mudong Alan and Saat mountains, from the slopes of which the water runs also to the Rejang River and the Batang Kayan. Here the boats were left behind and the expedition went forward on foot, making but slow progress in the rocky river-bed.
Near the mouth of the Lata the expedition was met by a large party of Kenyahs — men, women, and children — the whole population of a Kenyah village of the Batang Kayan, Lepu Agas by name, who had just arrived with the intention of making their home in that neighbourhood. These people had been the greatest enemies of Tama Bulan, and the feud had only been healed in the previous year.
A curious custom, which seems at the present time to be peculiar to the Kenyahs and rapidly dying out among them, was observed by the Lepu Aga people on this occasion. As the Resident's party approached the spot where they awaited its arrival, they sent out three men to establish the first contact. It was the function of these three men to make sure of the friendly intentions of the approaching party (Pls. 201, 202). They wore large wooden masks elaborately carved, and bearing great lateral projections like horns or antlers, in addition to full war dress.[215] They advanced down a long pebblebank, keeping step and making grotesque movements with heads and arms, which seemed to imply a mixture of caution and curiosity. After dodging about for some time, they came near and inquired: "Who are you? Whence do you come? What is your business?" Having obtained satisfactory assurances, they retreated, stepping backwards with the same grotesque gestures, and returned to report the results of their investigations to their chief.
Before friendly intercourse between the parties could begin it was still necessary, in view of the recent feud between them, that they should engage in a sham fight (JAWA). When this boisterous ceremony had been accomplished, the Resident presented to the Lepu Agas a number of presents, calculated to whet their appetite for the products of civilised industry to be found in the Baram bazaar. Very soon all suspicion and reserve were overcome, and all the men of the Resident's party turned to with hearty goodwill to help build a house for their former enemies. So well did they work that between sunrise and sunset a house of forty doors was hewn out of the forest, solidly constructed, and roofed; so that when night fell the new-comers were able to move in and to invite their helpers to a convivial meeting in its long gallery. The Resident made a speech in native fashion, saying that his party had ventured to build a rude hut in order to provide a night's shelter for their new friends, and hoped that they would find it sufficient for the moment. Tama Bulan also spoke, saying how now the old troubles were over, never to come again. Aban Jalong, the old chief of the Batang Kayan people, was so touched by these unwonted demonstrations of goodwill, that he wept and could with difficulty find words in which to express the gratitude of himself and his people. Through these people messages of goodwill and invitations to the proposed peace-making at Claudetown were sent to their former neighbours in the Batang Kayan, and these in due time bore good fruit. For in the course of the next few years several communities followed the example of the Lepu Agas, and moved over from the Batang Kayan to the Baram. It may be of interest to add that the Lepu Agas still inhabit the house built under these extraordinary circumstances. After some few more days of travelling up-river, we were met by a party of Madangs who had been sent down to meet the Resident; while awaiting his arrival they had hewed out a small boat, and in this, which served almost as much the purposes of a sledge as of a boat, they hauled him over rocks and rapids and still pools until, having outpaced the rest of the party, they brought him, on the eighth day from leaving the Silat, to their village at the foot of Mudong Alan. It was a large village comprising nine long houses disposed in a circle and containing probably not less than 2000 persons. Here he was received on the bank of the stream by a large body of Madangs headed by Tama Usun Tasi, who at once offered him the hospitality of his roof. The incidents of the visit have been described by the Resident, and passages from his account may here be transcribed: —
My Kenyah friends had not arrived yet, but I thought it best to go with him (Tama Usun Tasi) at once; afterwards I congratulated myself on my decision, when I found that, according to custom, Tama Bulan and his followers (being unable to enter the house until all cases of blood-money between his people and the Madangs had been settled) were obliged to camp near the river for one night. The Madangs assisted in making huts for my followers, gave them several pigs, and sent down their women laden with baskets full of rice; so no want of hospitality marred our reception. In the evening I took a walk round the village, followed by a crowd of women and children, who appeared greatly pleased to find that the white man was able to converse with them in the Kenyah tongue. Then, as the crowd increased, I sat down on a log and produced a few pounds of tobacco, and the whole party was soon chatting and laughing as if they had known me for years. I have often noticed that the women of the Kenyah tribe in the interior are far more genial and less shy than those of other communities, and I believe that the surest sign of the good faith of natives such as these is that the women and children come out to greet one unattended by the men. The sounds of our merriment soon attracted the attention of the men, and as they strolled over and joined us in gradually increasing numbers, the possibility of any disturbance taking place between these people and mine quickly vanished from my mind.
On the following morning several parties of Madangs from other villages came in, numbering in all about 600, and exchanged presents of weapons with my people. It was necessary that the gods should be consulted as to whether the meeting was really in the interests of peace or not. So a pig was caught and tied by the legs, and when all the Madangs were assembled in Tama Usun Tasi's house, the pig was brought in and placed in front of the chiefs. Then one of the head men from a neighbouring village took a lighted piece of wood and singed a few of the bristles of the pig, giving it a poke with his hand at the same time, as if to attract its attention, and calling in a loud voice to the supreme being, "Bali Penyalong." Then, talking at a great rate and hardly stopping for a moment to take breath, he asked that, if any one had evil intentions, the truth might be revealed before the evilly disposed one was allowed to enter the Madang houses, and that, if any Madang, whether related to him or not, wished to disturb the peace which was about to be made with the Baram people, his designs should be revealed. The old man stood waving his hands as if to sweep within the circle of his influence the whole of the assembled crowd, and then, jumping into the air with great violence, brought both feet down on the plank floor with a resounding thump; then, spinning round on one foot with his arm extended, he quickly altered the tone of his voice to a more gentle pitch, and, quivering with excitement, quietly sank down into his place amid a dead silence. The speech was a stirring one, and created an impression. Others spoke a few words to the pig, and it was then taken to one side and stabbed in the throat with a spear, after which the liver was taken out and examined. I should mention that a pig intended to serve the same purpose was provided by the Madangs for our people, who were still waiting to be invited to the house.
Having years before studied the beliefs of the natives with regard to divination by pigs' livers, and knowing the great importance attached to it, I was as anxious as any one to see the liver. I saw at a glance that the omen was good, and seized the opportunity to make the most of it. I quickly called the chiefs' attention to all the good points before they had given their own opinion, and at once saw that their interpretation was the same as my own, and that they were somewhat surprised to find it so.
Thereupon two messengers were sent backwards and forwards to discuss the number of people killed on either side from time to time, and big gongs, shields, and weapons of all kinds changed hands as blood-money. When all had been settled, notice was given to our people that the Madangs were ready to receive them into their houses, and the Baram people sent a message back that they were prepared to accept the invitation. When Kayans and Kenyahs who have been at feud desire to meet peaceably, it is necessary to go through a sort of sham fight, called JAWA, so that both parties can, as it were, blow off steam. As this ceremony is generally executed with much vigour by fully armed parties, it often happens that some people are badly hurt; and I was half afraid that such an accident might check the progress of our negotiations. But the omens had been favourable, and the implicit belief in such omens goes far to prevent bad feeling. About midday Tama Bulan and his followers, in full war costume, announced their intention of moving by bursting into the war-cry, a tremendous roar which was immediately answered by the people in the houses. The noise and excitement increased as the Baram people neared the house of Tama Usun Tasi, and guns with blank charges were fired. On came the Baram people, stamping, shouting, and waving their weapons in defiance, the Madangs in the houses keeping up a continuous roar. When the Baram people first attempted to enter the house, they were driven back, and a tremendous clashing of shields and weapons took place; then the Madangs retreated from the entrance in order to allow their visitors to come in, stamping and making the most deafening noise. When the Baram people had all entered, the Madangs once more rushed at them, and for some two minutes a rough-and-tumble fight continued, in which many hard blows were given. No one received a cut, however, except one man who, running against a spear, was wounded in the thigh; but the affair was quickly settled by the payment of a pig and a small spear to the wounded person; so the ceremony may be said to have ended without a mishap. When quiet had been restored, we all sat down and rice-spirit was produced, healths drunk, and speeches made; food was brought out and given to the visitors in the long verandah, as, on first being received, visitors are not allowed to enter the rooms; and the convivialities were prolonged far into the night.
In the evening of the following day the Madangs prepared a feast for all present, and afterwards a great deal of rice-spirit was drunk and some very good speeches made, former troubles and difficulties being explained and discussed in the most open manner. Each chief spoke in turn, and concluded his speech by offering drink to another and singing a few phrases in his praise, the whole assembly joining in a very impressive chorus after each phrase and ending up with a tremendous roar as the bamboo cup was emptied.
The following day the Madangs collected a quantity of rubber for their first payment of tribute to the government, namely, $2.00 per family, and as we had no means of weighing it except by guesswork, it was decided that Tama Bulan and two Madang headmen should act as assessors, and decide whether the piece of rubber brought by each person was sufficiently large to produce $2.00. It took these men the whole day to receive it all, and much counting was done on the fingers and toes.