She had, however, scarcely reached her home when she gave birth to a horrible being, of which the Buau was the father. Her husband instantly chopped it into a thousand pieces with his parang, and flung it into the jungle, when each fragment took life, and assumed the blood-sucking character of the demon parent. And thus the Buau was the original parent of land-leeches.
In order to propitiate these beings, the Dyaks are in the habit of making offerings of food, drink, and flowers to them before they undertake any great task, mostly putting the food into dishes or baskets, and laying it in the jungle for the use of the Antus.
Satisfied apparently with the multitude of their deities, the Dyaks possess no idols, a fact which is really remarkable, as showing the character of their minds. Charms, however, they have in plenty, and place the greatest reliance on them. Some charms are credited as rendering the wearer invulnerable, and it is likely that those attached to the parang described on [page 1125] are of that character.
Mr. St. John mentions an amusing example of the value set upon these charms. There was a chief of very high rank, who possessed some exceedingly potent charms, which had been in his family for many generations, and had been handed down from father to son. They consisted of two round pebbles, one flat pebble, a little stone which had been found in a banana, and some sand. All these valuables were sewed up together and fastened to a string, by which they could be attached to the waist in times of peril.
Unfortunately, the chief lent these charms to a man who lost them, and was sued by the aggrieved owner before the English court. He gained his case, but was nearly as much dissatisfied with the court as with the defendant, inasmuch as he estimated the value of the charms at a Rusa jar, i. e. about thirty dollars, or seven pounds, whereas the value set on them by the court, and paid by the defendant, was fivepence.
Allusion has been already made to the birds on which the Dyaks so much rely as omens. These are three in number, the Kushah, the Kariak, and the Katupung. When a Dyak is about to start on an expedition, he goes to the place near the village where the feasting sheds are built, and there waits until he hears the cry of one of these birds. Should either the kushah or the katupung cry in the front, or on either side, and not be answered, the omen is bad, and the man gives up his expedition. It is a good sign, however, if the bird should first cry on one side and then be answered on the other. The most important bird is the kariak. If the cry of the kariak be heard on the right, the omen is good; if on the left, it is doubtful. But if the cry be heard behind the diviner, the omen is as bad as it can be, and portends at least sickness, if not death.
The Dyaks scarcely engage in any undertaking without consulting the birds, whom they believe to be half Dyaks, all birds having proceeded from the union of an Antu with a Dyak woman.
Mr. Brooke, in treating of this subject, has the following forcible remarks:—“Some of our party of Dyaks had proceeded, but most were yet behind, and will be sweeping down for the next week or more. Many go through the forms of their forefathers in listening to the sounds of omens; but the ceremony is now very curtailed, compared with what it was a few years ago, when I have known a chief live in a hut for six weeks, partly waiting for the twittering of birds to be in a proper direction, and partly detained by his followers. Besides, the whole way in advancing, their dreams are religiously interpreted and adhered to; but, as in all such matters, interpretations are liable to a double construction. The finale is, that inclination, or often fear, is most powerful. A fearful heart produces a disagreeable dream, or a bad omen in imagined sounds from birds or deer, and this always makes a force return. But they often loiter about so long, that the enemy gains intelligence of their intended attack, and is on the alert.
“However absurdly these omens lead the human race, they steadily continue to follow and believe in such practices. Faith predominates, and hugs huge wonders, and tenaciously lives in the minds of the ignorant. Some of the Dyaks are somewhat shaken in the belief in hereditary omens, and a few follow the Malay custom of using a particular day, which has a strange effect on European imaginations. The white man who commands the force is supposed to have an express bird and lucky charm to guide him onward; and to these the Dyaks trust considerably. ‘You are our bird, we follow you.’ I well know the names, and can distinguish the sounds of their birds, and the different hands on which the good and bad omens are interpreted.
“The effect of these signs on myself was often very marked, and no Dyak could feel an adverse omen more than myself when away in the jungle, surrounded by these superstitious people. Still, I could sympathize with the multitude, and the difficulty lay in the question, whether any influence would be sufficient to counteract such phantoms. It must not be thought I ever attempted to lead the Dyaks to believe that I was the owner of charms and such absurdities, which could not have lasted above a season, and could never be successful for a length of time. A maias’ (orang-outan’s) head was hanging in my room, and this they thought to be my director to successful expeditions.”