Installation of a Dayak Rajah—A visit to the Grungs—A Dayak dance—Captain Hall’s visit to Corea—The chief on board the “Lyra”—Entertained at one’s own expense—The chief loses his temper—The marriage of King Finow’s daughter—The marriage ceremonies—Mummying a king—King John’s skull—The Bushman’s mourning.
In Borneo we find the ruling power to be a Sultan, assisted in his rule by “Rajahs” and “Pangerans” and “Bandars,” and many others whose titles are equally unintelligible to us. Each of these minor rulers, however, appears to rule absolutely over the people in their immediate care; and much ceremony is observed at their installation. Sir James Brooke, himself a rajah, was once present at the election of three of these petty rulers.
With the Dayaks all council is divided into hot and cold—peace, friendship, good intentions, are all included under the latter head; war, etc., are under the former. Hot is represented by red, and cold by white. So in everything they make this distinction; and as the public hall is the place for war councils and war trophies, it is hot in the extreme, and unfit for friendly conference. A shed was therefore erected close to the Orang Kaya’s house wherein the ceremony was to take place. “About nine in the evening we repaired to the scene; loud music, barbarous but not unpleasing, resounded, and we took our seats on mats in the midst of our Dayak friends. A feast was in preparation, and each guest (if I may call them such) brought his share of rice in bamboos and laid it on the general stock. As one party came up after another, carrying their burning logs, the effect was very good; and they kept arriving until the place and its vicinity was literally crammed with human beings. A large antique sīrih-box was placed in the midst, and I contributed that greatest of luxuries, tobacco.
“The feast in the meantime was in preparation, some of the principal people being employed in counting the number who were to eat and dividing the bamboos into exactly equal portions for each person. About six inches were allotted to every man, and it took a very long time to divide it, for they are remarkably particular as to the proper size and quantity to each share. The bamboos of rice being, however, at length satisfactorily disposed, the Orang Kaya produced as his share a large basin full of sauce composed of salt and chilis, and a small stock of sweetmeats, and then the ceremony of his installation commenced as follows:
“A jacket, a turban, a cloth for the loins, and a kris (all of white), were presented to the chiefs as a token of sejiek dingin, or cold (i.e. good). The chief then rose, and taking a white fowl and waving it over the eatables, repeated nearly the following words [The commencement, however, is curious enough to dwell upon: the opening is a sort of invocation beginning with the phrase ‘Samungut Samungi.’ Samungut is a Malay word, Samungi signifying the same in Dayak; the exact meaning it is difficult to comprehend, but it is here understood as some principal spirit or fortune which is in men and things. Thus the Dayaks in stowing their rice at harvest, do it with great care from a superstitious feeling that the Samungi of the padi will escape. They now call this principal to be present—that of men, of pigs (their favorite animal), of padi, and of fruits. They particularly named my Samungi, that of my ancestors, of the Pangeran from Borneo, of the Datus and of their ancestors, and of the ancestors of their own tribe. They call them—that is, their Samungi—to be present. They then call upon Jovata to grant their prayer that the great man from Europe and the Datus might hold the government for a length of time]:—‘May the government be cold (good). May there be rice in our houses. May many pigs be killed. May male children be born to us. May fruit ripen. May we be happy, and our goods abundant. We declare ourselves to be true to the great man and the Datus; what they wish we will do, what they command is our law.’ Having said this and much more the fowl was taken by a leading Malay who repeated the latter words, whilst others bound strips of white cloth round the heads of the multitude. The fowl was then killed, the blood shed in a bamboo, and each man dipping his finger in the blood touched his forehead and breast in attestation of his fidelity. The fowl was now carried away to be cooked, and when brought back placed with the rest of the feast, and the dancing commenced. The chief coming forward uttered a loud yell ending in ‘ish,’ which was oftentimes repeated during the dance. He raised his hand to his forehead and, taking a dish, commenced dancing to lively music. Three other old chief-men followed his example, each uttering the yell and making the salute, but without taking the dish. They danced with arms extended, turning the body frequently, taking very small steps and little more than lifting their feet from the ground. Thus they turned backwards and forwards, passed in and out in the inner rooms, and frequently repeating a yell and making the salutation to me. The dish in the meantime was changed from one to the other; there was little variety, no gesticulation, no violence, and though not deficient in native grace, yet the movements were by no means interesting. The dance over the feast commenced, and everything was carried on with great gravity and propriety. I left them shortly after they begun to eat, and retired, very fagged, to my bed, or rather my board, for sitting cross-legged for several hours is surely a great affliction.”
Sir J. Brooke, in company with a modern writer on Bornean manners and customs—Mr. St. John—on another occasion paid a ceremonial visit to a chief of the Grungs, and with results that are worth chronicling.
“We found the village crowded with the representatives of all the neighbouring tribes; long strings of men, women, and children were continually arriving as we approached. Directly we ascended the notched tree that served as a ladder to the Orang Kaya’s house, we found that we were no longer free agents. A crowd of old women instantly seized us and pulled off our shoes and stockings and commenced most vigorously washing our feet: this water was preserved to fertilize the fields. We were then conducted to a platform but slightly raised above the floor and requested to sit down, but the mats were so dirty that we could scarcely prevail upon ourselves to do so—perhaps the only time it has occurred to us; generally the mats are charmingly neat and clean. The arrival of our bedding freed us from this difficulty.
“We were surrounded by a dense mass of men, women, and children who appeared all to be talking at once; in fact, more excitement was shewn than I have before observed. We had to do so many things, and almost all at once,—to sprinkle rice about, to pour a little water on each child that was presented to us, until, from force of example, the women and even the men insisted upon the ceremony being performed on them.
“Silence being at last restored, Kasim explained in a long speech the object of Captain Brooke’s visit. He spoke in Malay, interlarding it occasionally with Dayak phrases—I say Malay, but Malay that is only used when addressing the aborigines,—clipping and altering words, changing the pronunciation, until I find that some have been deceived into believing this was the true Dayak language. It is to these people what the Lingua Franca is to Western Asia.