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

Both women then kneel upon a large mat laid beside the mortar; the one holding the winnowing pan keeps throwing the grain into the air with a movement which causes the heavier grain to fall to the back of the pan, while the chaff and dust is thrown forward on to the mat. Her companion separates the rice dust from the chaff by sifting it through a sieve. A considerable quantity of the dust or finely broken rice is formed by the pounding in the mortar, and this is the principal food given to the pigs. The winnowed grain is usually returned to the mortar to be put through the whole process a second time. The clean rice thus prepared is ready for the cooking-pot.

The winnowing and sifting is often done by old women, while the younger women continue the severer task of plying the pestle. In the Kayan houses the mortars are in many cases double, that is to say, there are two pits in the one block of timber, and two pairs of women work simultaneously. In the middle of the afternoon the whole house resounds with the vigorous blows of the pestles, for throughout the length of the gallery two or more women are at work beside each room, husking the day's supply of rice for each family.

For the women of all the peoples, except the Punans, the husking of the PADI is a principal feature of the day's work, and is performed in much the same fashion by all. The Kenyahs alone do their work out of doors beside the PADI barns, sometimes under rude lean-to shelters.

When this task is completed the women are covered with dust; they descend again to the river, and bathe themselves and the children once more. They may gather some of the scanty vegetables grown in small enclosures near most of the houses, and then proceed to prepare supper with their rice and whatever food the men may have brought home from the jungle. For now, about an hour before sundown, the men return from expeditions in the jungle, often bringing a wild pig, a monkey, a porcupine, or some jungle fruit, or young shoots of bamboo, as their contribution to the supper table; others return from fishing or from the PADI fields, and during the sunset hour at a large village a constant stream of boats arrives at the landing-place before the house. Most of the home-comers bathe in the river before ascending to the house. This evening bath is taken in more leisurely fashion than the morning dip. A man will strip off his waist-cloth and rush into the water, falling flat on his chest with a great splash. Then standing with the water up to his waist he will souse his head and face, then perhaps swim a few double overhand strokes, his head going under at each stroke. After rubbing himself down with a smooth pebble, he returns to the bank, and having resumed his waist-cloth, he squeezes the water from his hair, picks up his paddle, spear, hat, and other belongings, and ascends to the gallery. There he hangs up his spear by jabbing its point into a roof-beam beside the door of his chamber, and sits down to smoke a cigarette and to relate the events of his day while supper is preparing. As darkness falls, he goes to his room to sup. By the time the women also have supped, the tropical night has fallen, and the house is lit by the fires and by resin torches, and nowadays by a few kerosene lamps. The men gather round the fireplaces in the gallery and discuss politics, the events of the day, the state of the crops and weather, the news obtained by meetings with the people of neighbouring houses, and relate myths and legends, folk-tales and animal stories. The women, having put the children to bed, visit one another's rooms for friendly gossip; and young men drop in to join their parties, accept the proffered cigarette, and discourse the sweet music of the KELURI,[49] the noseflute, and the Jew's harp (Figs. 17, 18, 19). Or Romeo first strikes up his plaintive tune outside the room in which Juliet sits with the women folk. Juliet may respond with a few notes of her guitar[50] (Fig. 20), thus encouraging Romeo to enter and to take his place in the group beside her, where he joins in the conversation or renews his musical efforts. About nine o'clock all retire to bed, save a few old men who sit smoking over the fires far into the night. The dogs, after some final skirmishes and yelpings, subside among the warm ashes of the fireplaces; the pigs emit a final squeal and grunt; and within the house quietness reigns. Now the rushing of the river makes itself heard in the house, mingled with the chirping of innumerable insects and the croaking of a myriad frogs borne in from the surrounding forest. The villagers sleep soundly till cock-crow; but the European guest, lying in the place of honour almost beneath the row of human heads which adorns the gallery, is, if unused to sleeping in a Bornean long house, apt to be wakened from time to time throughout the night by an outburst of dreadful yelpings from the dogs squabbling for the best places among the ashes, by the prolonged fit of coughing of an old man, by an old crone making up the fire, by the goats squealing and scampering over the boats beneath the house, or by some weird cry from the depths of the jungle.

In the old days the peace of the night was occasionally broken an hour before the dawn by the yells of an attacking force, and by the flames roaring up from bundles of shavings thrown beneath the house. But happily attacks of this kind are no longer made, save in some few remoter parts of the interior where the European governments have not yet fully established their authority.

The even tenor of the life of a village is interrupted from time to time by certain festivals or other incidents — the harvest festival; the marriage or the naming of a chiefs son or daughter; the arrival of important guests (one or more chiefs with bands of followers coming to make peace, or nowadays the resident magistrate of the district); the funeral of a chief; the preparations for war or for a long journey to the distant bazaar of Chinese traders in the lower part of the river; the necessity of removing to a new site; an epidemic of disease; the rites of formally consulting the omens, or otherwise communicating with and propitiating the gods; the operations of the soul-catcher. The more important of these incidents will be described in later chapters. Here we need only give a brief account of the way in which some of them affect the daily round of life in the long house.

A visiting chief will remain seated in his boat, while a follower announces his arrival and ascertains that there is no MALAN (TABU) upon the house which would make the presence of visitors unwelcome. Such MALAN affecting the whole house or village obtains during the storing of the PADI for ten consecutive days, during epidemics of sickness in neighbouring villages, and at the time when the preparation of the farm land begins. If a favourable answer is returned, the visitor remains seated in his boat some few minutes longer, and then makes his way into the gallery, followed by most of his men, who leave their spears and shields in the boats. If the visitor is an intimate friend, the chief of the house will send a son or brother to welcome him, or will even go himself. Arrived in the gallery, the visitor advances to the central platform where the chief of the house awaits him, unstrings his sword from his waist, hangs it upon any convenient hook, and sits down beside his host; while his men, following his example, seat themselves with the men of the house in a semicircle facing the two chiefs. The followers may greet, and even embrace, or grasp by the forearm, their personal friends; but the demeanour of the chief's is more formal. Neither one utters a word or glances at the other for some few minutes; the host remains seated, fidgeting with a cigarette and gazing upon the floor; the visitor sitting beside him looks stolidly over the heads of his followers, and perhaps clears his throat or coughs. Presently a woman thrusts into the semicircle a tray of freshly made cigarettes. One of the men of the house pushes it forward towards the principal visitor, who makes a sign of acceptance by lightly touching the tray; the other, crouching on his heels, lights a cigarette with an ember from the fire, blowing it into a glow as he waddles up to present it to the visiting chief. The latter takes it, but usually allows it to go out. By this time the chief of the house is ready to open the conversation, and, after clearing his throat, suddenly throws out a question, usually, "Where did you start from to-day?" The embarrassing silence thus broken, question and answer are freely exchanged, the cigarette of the visitor is again lighted at the fire by a member of the household, and conversation becomes general. Not infrequently the host, becoming more and more friendly, throws an arm across his guest's shoulders or strokes him endearingly with the palm of his hand.

In the meantime the women are busy preparing a meal, a pig having been killed and hastily cut up. When it is ready, the visitors, if old friends, are invited to partake of it in the chief's room. But if they are not familiar acquaintances, the meal is spread for them in the gallery on platters placed in a long row, one for each guest; each platter containing many cubes of hot boiled pork and two packets of hot boiled rice wrapped in leaves. The space is surrounded with a slight bamboo fence to keep away the dogs. In either case the visitors eat alone, their hosts retiring until the meal is finished. As the chief's wife retires, she says, "Eat slowly, my children, our food is poor stuff. There is no pork, no fish, nothing that is good." Before withdrawing, one of the people of the house pours a little water from a bamboo vessel on the right hand of the visiting chief, who then passes on the vessel to his followers. With the hand thus cleansed each guest conveys the food to his mouth, dipping his pieces of pork in coarse salt placed in a leaf beside his platter; and when he has finished eating, he drinks water from a bamboo vessel. The chief, and perhaps also one or more of his upper-class companions, leaves a little of the pork and a little rice on the platter to show that he is not greedy or ravenous; and his good breeding prompts him to prove his satisfaction with the meal by belching up a quantity of wind with a loud and prolonged noise, which is echoed by his followers to the best of their ability. After thus publicly expressing his appreciation of his host's hospitality, he rinses out his mouth, squirting out the water towards the nearest gap between the floor boards, rubs his teeth with his forefinger, again rinses his mouth, and washes his hand. Then relighting his cigarette, which he has kept behind his ear or thrust through the hole in its shell, he rejoins his host, who awaits him on the dais.

On such an occasion, and in fact on any other occasion suggestive of festivity, the evening is enlivened with oratory, song, and drink. After supper the men gather together about the chiefs, sitting in close-set ranks on and before the dais. At a hint from the chief a jar of BURAK (rice-spirit) is brought into the circle. This may be the property of the chief or of any one of the principal men, who, by voluntarily contributing in this way towards the entertainment of the guests, maintains the honour of the house and of its chief. A little is poured into a cup and handed to the house-chief, who first makes a libation to the omen-birds and to all the other friendly spiritual powers, by pouring a little on to the ground through some crevice of the floor, or by throwing a few drops out under the eaves, saying, as he does so, "Ho, all you friendly spirits." Then he drinks a little and hands back the cup to the young man who has taken charge of the jar of spirit. The latter, remaining crouched upon his heels, ladles out another cupful of spirit and offers it in both hands to the principal guest, who drinks it off, and expresses by a grunt and a smack of the lips, and perhaps a shiver, his appreciation of its quality. The cup is handed in similar formal fashion to each of the principal guests in turn; and then more cups are brought into use, and the circulation of the drink becomes more rapid and informal. As soon as each man has had a drink, the house-chief rises to his feet and, addressing himself to his guest, expatiates upon his admirable qualities, and expresses eloquently the pleasure felt by himself and his people at this visit. Then speaking in parables and in indirect fashion, claiming perhaps indulgence on the ground that he is merely talking in his sleep, he touches upon local politics at first delicately; then warming up he speaks more directly and plainly. He may become much excited and gesticulate freely, even leaping into the air and twirling round on one foot with outstretched right arm in a fashion that directs his remarks to each and all of the listening circle; but, even though he may find occasion to admonish or reproach, or even hint at a threat, his speech never transgresses the strictest bounds of courtesy. Having thus unburdened himself of whatever thoughts and emotions are evoked by the occasion, he takes from the attendant Ganymede a bumper cup of spirit and breaks into song. Standing before his guest and swinging the cup repeatedly almost to his (the guest's) lips, he exhorts him in complimentary and rhyming phrases to accept his remarks in a friendly spirit, and reminds him of the age and strength of their family and tribal relations, referring to their ancestral glories and the proud position in the world of their common race. At the end of each sentence all the men of both parties break out into a loud chorus, repeating the last word or two in deep long-drawn-out musical cadence. Then, with the last words of his extemporised song, the chief yields up the cup to the expectant guest, who, having sat rigidly and with fixed gaze throughout the address, takes it in one long draught, while the chorus swells to a deep, musical roar. At this moment the circle of auditors, if much excited, will spring to their feet and swell the noise by stamping and jumping on the resounding planks. The house-chief smilingly strokes his guest from the shoulder downwards and resumes his seat. The chorus and commotion die away, and are followed by a moment of silence, during which the guest prepares to make his reply in similar fashion. He rises and begins by naming and lightly touching or pointing to his host and other of the principal men present. Then he makes acknowledgment of the kind and flattering reception accorded him, and his pleasure at finding this opportunity of improving the understanding between himself and his hosts. "The views so eloquently expressed by my friend (naming him and using some complimentary title, E.G. brother or father) are no doubt correct. Indeed, how could it be otherwise? But I have been told so and so, and perhaps it may be, …" and so he goes on to state his own views, taking care to shift the responsibility for any remaining dissension on to the shoulders of some distant third party. He congratulates all parties on this free discussion of matters of common interest, and with free gesticulation exhorts them to turn a deaf ear to vague rumours and to maintain friendly relations. Then, dropping down beside his host, he says "Take no notice of what I have said, I am drunk." Ganymede again approaches him with a bumper cup, and then rising to his feet and calling on his men, he addresses his host in complimentary song and chorus, using the gestures and expressions peculiar to his own people. The song culminates as before in a general chorus, long drawn out, while the house-chief drains the cup.

The cups then circulate freely, and the smoking of cigarettes is general; other shorter speeches may be made, perhaps by the sons or brothers of the chiefs. As the evening wears away, both guests and hosts become increasingly boisterous and affectionate; but few or none on an occasion of this sort become intoxicated or quarrelsome. If a man becomes a little too boisterous, he is led away to one of the sleeping platforms in the gallery, and kept there until he falls asleep.