CHAPTER XVI.
CREMATION—THE SLAUGHTER OF PRISONERS OF WAR—A PRISONER OF WAR SAVED—COUNCIL OF WAR—SCARCITY OF WATER—HAMADOE THIRSTY—WIENERSDORF ATTACKED BY AN ORANG OUTANG—ON THE KAHAJAN—A BLOODY BATTLE—SCHLICKEISEN LOST.
Next morning all the inhabitants of the kotta, as well as the Poenans and Kapoeasese, were busy preparing for the burning of the bodies of those fallen companions who did not belong to kotta Hamiak. A sanggarang, or richly-carved flag-staff, was erected in the centre of the square of the fortification. A wooden bird with its wings extended was fixed on the top of the mast, and immediately below the bird an earthen pot with its bottom cut out was suspended. Under this pot a piece of wood was nailed to the sanggarang, extending five or six inches on each side of it, and to this eleven lances were tied, spread out like a fan. These were to represent the number of bodies, not counting Amai Mawong and the Sirattese, whose funeral would take place later. The Dayak believes that the souls of the sanggarang, of the bird, the pot, and the lances, when in the kingdom of souls, are transformed into numerous necessaries for the use of the deceased.
As the deceased had fallen by the hand of their enemy, a triangular [[296]]pole was planted at the side of the sanggarang, crowned with a skull of one of their foes. On the sides of the pole they had made seven oblique notches to receive sticks projecting about four inches, upon which curiously folded palm-leaves were hung as ornaments.
In front of these masts were erected the sapoendoes, those fatal posts to which the prisoners were to be tied, while in front of these again a large mound of earth was heaped up four feet high, eight feet wide, and fifteen feet long. After the soil had been thoroughly stamped down, the pamahei, funeral pyre, was built on the top of it, consisting of alternate layers of dry wood and small baskets of rosin.
All the preparations being complete, the inhabitants of the kotta gathered around the pyre and the bodies of those fallen were arranged on the top of it clad in their full war costumes. The rosin at the bottom layer was ignited and thick clouds of smoke followed by great flames soon shot up high into the air. The prisoners of war were now fetched from their cages and tied to the sapoendoes. Their aspect betokened the deepest misery. Their matted hair fell around their shoulders and the ewahs which formed their only garments were hanging from their loins in tatters. For the rest, their appearance was calm and peaceful; not defiant, but yet not downcast. As soon as they were tied to their respective stakes the priestesses began their incantations as a sign that all was ready for the commencement of the degrading ceremony.
Some of the men posted themselves near the pyre and blew poisoned arrows into the rising smoke to disperse evil spirits, but [[297]]the majority of them made a wide circle around the poor victims. High up among the trees a number of hungry vultures had collected with an instinctive knowledge of what was going to take place.
Amai Kotong now stepped forward; he raised his lance and slightly wounded the first of the prisoners in the shoulder. He was followed by Harimaoung Boekit, the Poenans, Kapoeasese and Sirattese, each of whom in his turn gave a prick and passed on to make room for others to succeed. When all had had their turns the same order was resumed and the round recommenced. The blood flowed abundantly and as it congealed in large clots was eagerly devoured from time to time by the vultures.
The intense agony felt by the martyr elicited not a single cry from him, but the descent of the birds to devour his blood seemed to cause him the most poignant anguish. That he should behold while living the fate that awaited him after death was a martyrdom so terrible, so inhuman, that only the imagination of fiends could have conceived it. It was hard enough to be fastened to a stake unable to defend himself from certain death, while full of vital power and clinging to dear life despite its trials and miseries. But to be reminded of the inevitable by every thrust of the lance, by each descent of the vultures upon his oozing life’s blood, formed a climax of anguish that must have wrung the heart of the sufferer. Nevertheless, though exhibiting signs of mental perturbation, he stoically abstained from uttering a sound to gladden the souls of his tormentors. At last there came an end to his martyrdom; death supervening from loss of blood. His executioners then quitted him to repeat the same [[298]]operations upon their next victim, leaving his still warm body hanging in its fetters to stiffen on the stake.