F. M. DELT.
M. N. HANHART LITH. PRINTERS
WAR DANCE OF THE DYAKS.
This ceremony being over, they rushed into the centre and gave a most unearthly scream, then poising themselves on one foot they described a circle with the other, at the same time extending their arms like the wings of a bird, and then meeting their hands, clapping them and keeping time with the music. After a little while the music became louder, and suddenly our ears were pierced with the whole of the natives present joining in the hideous war cry. Then the motions and the screams of the dancers became more violent, and every thing was working up to a state of excitement by which even we were influenced. Suddenly a very unpleasant odour pervaded the room, already too warm from the numbers it contained. Involuntarily we held our noses, wondering what might be the cause, when we perceived that one of the warriors had stepped into the centre and suspended round the shoulders of each dancer a human head in a wide meshed basket of rattan. These heads had been taken in the late Sakarron business, and were therefore but a fortnight old. They were encased in a wide net work of rattan, and were ornamented with beads. Their stench was intolerable, although, as we discovered upon after examination, when they were suspended against the wall, they had been partially baked and were quite black. The teeth and hair were quite perfect, the features somewhat shrunk, and they were altogether very fair specimens of pickled heads; but our worthy friends required a lesson from the New Zealanders in the art of preserving. The appearance of the heads was the signal for the music to play louder, for the war cry of the natives to be more energetic, and for the screams of the dancers to be more piercing. Their motions now became more rapid, and the excitement in proportion. Their eyes glistened with unwonted brightness. The perspiration dropped down their faces, and thus did yelling, dancing, gongs, and tom-toms become more rapid and more violent every minute, till the dancing warriors were ready to drop. A farewell yell, with emphasis, was given by the surrounding warriors; immediately the music ceased, the dancers disappeared, and the tumultuous excitement and noise was succeeded by a dead silence. Such was the excitement communicated, that when it was all over we ourselves remained for some time panting to recover our breath. Again we lighted our cheroots and smoked for a while the pipe of peace.
A quarter of an hour elapsed and the preparations were made for another martial dance. This was performed by two of the rajah's sons, the same young men I have previously made mention of. They came forward each having on his arm one of the large Dyak shields, and in the centre of the cleared space were two long swords lying on the floor. The ceremony of shaking hands, as described preparatory to the former dance, was first gone through; the music then struck up and they entered the arena. At first they confined themselves to evolutions of defence, springing from one side to the other with wonderful quickness, keeping their shields in front of them, falling on one knee and performing various feats of agility. After a short time, they each seized a sword, and then the display was very remarkable, and proved what ugly customers they must be in single conflict. Blows in every direction, feints of every description, were made by both, but invariably received upon the shields. Cumbrous as these shields were, no opening was ever left, retreating, pursuing, dodging, and striking, the body was never exposed. Occasionally, during this performance, the war cry was given by the surrounding warriors, but the combatants held their peace; in fact they could not afford to open their mouths, lest an opening should be made. It was a most masterly performance, and we were delighted with it.
As the evening advanced into night, we had a sort of extemporary drama, reminding us of one of the dances, as they are called, of the American Indians, in which the warriors tell their deeds of prowess. This was performed by two of the principal and oldest warriors, who appeared in long white robes, with long staves in their hands. They paraded up and down the centre, alternately haranguing each other; the subject was the praise of their own rulers, a relation of their own exploits, and an exhortation to the young warriors to emulate their deeds. This performance was most tedious; it lasted for about three hours, and, as we could not understand a word that was said, it was not peculiarly interesting. It, however, had one good effect: it sent us all asleep. I fell asleep before the others, I am told; very possible. I certainly woke up the first, and on waking, found that all the lights were out, and that the rajah and the whole company had disappeared, with the exception of my European friends, who were all lying around me. My cheroot was still in my mouth, so I re-lighted it and smoked it, and then again lay down by the side of my companions. Such was the wind-up of our visit to the rajah, who first excited us by his melodramas, and then sent us to sleep with his recitations.
The next morning, at daylight, we repaired to our boats, and when all was ready took leave of the old rajah. The rajah's eldest son had promised to accompany us to the mouth of the river, and show us how the natives hunted the wild pigs, which are very numerous in all the jungles of Borneo.
We got under weigh and proceeded down the river accompanied by a large canoe, which was occupied by the rajah's son, six or seven hunters, and a pack of the dogs used in hunting the wild boar on this island. These dogs were small, but very wiry, with muzzles like foxes, and curling tails. Their hair was short, and of a tan colour. Small as they are, they are very bold, and one of them will keep a wild pig at bay till the hunters come up to him.
