Each party provides a roughly-constructed wooden grating, to be placed in the bed of the river, for his champion to stand on in the water. These are placed within a few yards of each other, where the water is deep enough to reach the waist, and near each a pole is thrust firmly into the mud for the man to hold on to while he is diving.
The two divers are led into the river, and each stands on his own grating, grasping his pole. At a given signal they plunge their heads simultaneously into the water. Immediately the spectators shout aloud at the top of their voices, over and over again, "Lobon—lobon," and continue doing so during the whole contest. What these mysterious words mean, I have never been able to discover. When at length one of the champions shows signs of yielding, by his movements in the water, and the shaking of the pole he is holding to, the excitement becomes very great. "Lobon—lobon," is shouted louder and more rapidly than before. The shouts become deafening. The struggles of the poor victim, who is fast losing consciousness, are painful to witness. The champions are generally plucky, and seldom come out of the water of their own will. They stay under water until the loser drops senseless, and is dragged ashore, apparently lifeless, by his companions. The friends of the winner, raising a loud shout of triumph, hurry to the bank and seize and carry off the stakes. The vanquished one, quite unconscious, is carried by his friends to the fire, where he is warmed. In a few minutes he recovers, opens his eyes and gazes wildly around, and in a short time is able to walk slowly home. Where both champions succumb at the same time, the one who first regains his senses is held to be the winner.
The Dyaks have a curious superstition that if food is offered to a man, and he refuses it, and goes away without at least touching it, some misfortune is sure to befall him. It is said that he is sure to be either attacked by a crocodile, or bitten by a snake, or suffer from the attack of some animal.
When Dyaks have been asked to stay and have a meal, if they do not feel inclined to do so, I have often noticed them touch the food before going away. I have never been able to discover the origin of this curious superstition, but innumerable tales are told of those who have disregarded it, and have paid the penalty by being attacked by some animal.
The Dyaks are very truthful. So disgraceful indeed do the Dyaks consider the deceiving of others by an untruth, that such conduct is handed down to posterity by a remarkable custom. They heap up a pile of the branches of trees in memory of the man who has told a great lie, so that future generations may know of his wickedness, and take warning from it. The persons deceived start the tugong bula—"the liar's mound"—by heaping up a large number of branches in some conspicuous spot by the side of the path from one village to another. Every passer-by contributes to it, and at the same time curses the man in memory of whom it is. The Dyaks consider the adding to any tugong bula they may pass a sacred duty, the omission of which will meet with supernatural punishment, and so, however pressed for time a Dyak may be, he stops to throw on the pile some small branch or twig.
A few branches, a few dry twigs and leaves—that is what the tugong bula is at first. But day by day it increases in size. Every passer-by adds to it, and in a few years' time it becomes an imposing memorial to one who was a liar. Once started, there seems to be no means of destroying a tugong bula. There used to be one by the side of the path between Seratok and Sebetan. As the branches and twigs that composed it often came over the path, on a hot day in the dry weather, I have more than once applied a match to it and burnt it down. However, in a very short time, a new heap of branches and twigs was piled on the ashes of the old tugong bula.
CHAPTER IX
DYAK FEASTS
The Dyak religious feasts may be divided into the four following classes:—