Accordingly, they went to a Chinaman’s house, had their supper with him very amicably, and then retired to rest, after agreeing that at midnight they would strike the fatal blow. Now it happened that Achang overslept himself, and his friend thought that he might as well take advantage of his drowsiness, and secure the head for himself. Accordingly, at midnight, hideous yells were heard from the Chinaman’s house, and when the people rushed into the room, they found the unfortunate owner with his face gashed all down one side, the Dyak youth having missed his blow in his haste. The actual perpetrator escaped, but Achang was found still fast asleep, and was instantly put in irons.
Next day he was brought down to Sakarrang, with a chain round his waist, and on the way he was followed by a body of Dyaks, who were trying to bribe his keepers to let them take his head. They actually held an auction for his head as they went along, each bidding higher than the other, and the horrors of that twelve-mile march were such that the poor lad became gray before the next morning.
After all, Achang was really a most gentle and innocent lad, and was only following the habits of his country in obeying the behests of his mistress. He was kept in irons for about a month, and then released, after which he attached himself to the service of the white men, worked in the garden, and, as the saying is, made himself generally useful.
The heads are subjected to a sort of drying process, called “cooking,” which is tolerably effectual, but is far inferior to that which is employed by the New Zealanders, and, for a considerable time after the heads are cooked, they are very offensive to European nostrils, though Dyaks seem to be quite unconscious of the evil odor. They are always kept in the pangarangs, or head houses, which are very unlike the ordinary dwelling-houses of the Dyaks. A very good account of a head house is given by Mr. F. S. Marryat:—
“We were escorted, through a crowd of wandering Dyaks, to a house in the centre of the village, which was very different in construction from the others. It was perfectly round, and well ventilated by numerous port-holes in the roof, which was pointed. We ascended to the room above by means of a rough ladder, and when we entered, we were rather taken aback by finding that we were in the head house, as it is termed, and that the beams were lined with human heads, all hanging by a small line passed through the top of the skull.
“They were painted in the most fantastic and hideous manner. Pieces of wood painted to imitate the eyes were inserted in the sockets, and added not a little to their ghastly, grinning appearance. The strangest part of the story, and which added very much to the effect of the scene, was, that these skulls were perpetually moving to and fro, and knocking against each other. This, I presume, was occasioned by the different currents of air blowing in at the port-holes cut in the roof; but what with their continual motion, their nodding their chins when they hit each other, and their grinning teeth, they really appeared to be endowed with new life, and to be a very merry set of fellows.
“However, whatever might be the first impression occasioned by this very unusual sight, it very soon wore off, and we amused ourselves with their motions, which were not life, as Byron says; and in the course of the day we succeeded in making a very excellent dinner in company with these gentlemen, although we were none of us sufficiently Don Giovannistic to invite our friends above to supper.”
These head houses are, as we have just seen, the places wherein guests are received, and we can therefore understand that the natives of any village would have a pride in showing to their visitors the trophies won by themselves. One of these houses scantily furnished with heads would be held as a scandal to the village, so that the three emotions of pride, love, and sorrow have all their effect in aiding the custom of head hunting.
In these head houses, the unmarried men of the village sleep. The reason for this custom is two-fold. In the first place, the bachelors are kept out of mischief; and in the next, they are always ready with their arms at hand to turn out in defence of the village should it be attacked. In such expeditions, the head house is always the central object of attack, and by having the young warriors at hand the Dyaks ensure the security of their cherished trophies.
Some of the horrors of the head hunting custom are well described by Mr. St. John:—“About thirteen years ago, I heard the Natuna people give an account of a horrible transaction that took place in one of their islands. A party of Saribas Dyaks were cruising about among the little isles near, and had destroyed several women and many fishermen, when they were observed, toward evening, creeping into a deep and narrow inlet to remain during the night.