The reader is probably aware of the many tales that are told of this tree—how that it poisons the country for a mile round, and how that the deadly juice can only be obtained by means of condemned criminals, who earn their pardon in case they can bring off a bottle of the juice. Even in more recent days the upas-tree has not lost all its legends, and many persons still believe that actual contact with the tree or its leaves produces a sensation of faintness. This, however, is not the case; neither is the actual juice of the tree so deadly as is supposed.

A wound made by an arrow poisoned with upas juice is sure to be fatal, provided that the poison be quite fresh; but it loses its power very rapidly, and after it has been exposed to the air for two hours it is useless, and must be renewed. When fresh, it is fatal in a very short time, as was found by Mr. Johnson, who led an attack on the Kanowit Dyaks in 1859. He lost thirty men in the attack, every one of them being killed by the tiny sumpit arrow, and not one having a mark on him, except the little wound made by the arrow’s point.

Should the poison have been exposed to the air, the wounded man has a chance of recovery; and it has been found that a large dose of spirits, sucking the wound, and keeping the sufferer continually in motion will generally overcome the virulence of the poison. Indeed, the sumpit arrow seems to have much the same effect as the bite of the cobra, and the treatment which is efficacious for the snake bite answers equally well for the arrow wound.

The juice of the upas-tree is procured simply by boring a hole in the trunk, from which the juice issues in a white, cream-like state. It is received in little flasks made of bamboo, which are closed in the most careful manner, in order to exclude the air. One of these flasks in my possession is five inches in length, and about half an inch in diameter. One end is naturally closed by a knot, and the other is sealed with the most scrupulous care. First, a plug of soft wood has been inserted into the end, after the manner of a cork. Over the plug a lump of beeswax has been firmly kneaded, and over the wax a piece of membrane has been tied when wet. Although the upas juice is white when it first issues from the tree, it speedily becomes black when exposed to the air.

The upas-tree is called scientifically Antiaris toxicaria, and it belongs to the natural order Astocarpeæ, the best known species of which order is the well-known bread-fruit tree. All the plants of this order produce a white milky juice, which is always acrid and deleterious, and in many instances is exceedingly poisonous. Yet those parts of the plant, such as the fruit, in which the milk is replaced by sugar in the process of ripening, are not only harmless, but even nutritious. The tree grows to a considerable size, and the bark of the trunk has a reddish hue.

The reader will at once understand how formidable is this weapon. It is greatly to be dreaded even when the Dyak warriors are met in open battle, and in naval engagements the showers of poisoned arrows that are continually shot through the port-holes render the gunners’ task a most unpleasant one. But the sumpitan is much more to be dreaded by land than by sea; and when it is employed in bush warfare, the boldest soldier shrinks from the encounter. The Dyak who wields it lies hidden in the thick foliage, sure that, even in case of discovery, he can glide through the tangled thickets into a place of security. The sumpitan makes no report, and gives out no smoke as an indication of its position, but the deadly arrow flies silently on its errand, and the only intimation of the presence of an adversary is the slight tap with which the arrow strikes its mark.

The only disadvantage of the sumpitan is that its range is a short one, the light arrow being seldom used at a distance exceeding forty yards, though a man who is accustomed to its use can propel an arrow for seventy or eighty yards. At this distance, however, it is not to be dreaded, as its force is so expended that it can scarcely break the human skin. Some of these arrows have their heads made of the barbed bone of the sting-ray, which snaps off at a touch, and remains in the wound if the man tries to draw out the weapon. Others have separate heads made of wood, which become detached as soon as the shaft is pulled. The native name of the head is jowing.

(1.) PARANG LATOK.
(See [page 1123].)