“They are very superstitious. There are several spots in their country which they believe to be haunted and a Dayak would not venture near them for all the money in the world.”
“But,” said Schlickeisen, “you told us just now that in order to prevent the body of Soelil from falling into the hands of the Dutch it was buried here. Do the Dutch mutilate bodies?”
“They forbid the Dayaks to take heads, but they don’t mind taking the heads of the Dayaks.”
“Have you ever seen them do it?”
“No, but it is known among us. I have even heard that they put those heads in pickle!”
“Nonsense!” cried Johannes. “It certainly has happened once or twice that the head of some notorious outlaw has been forwarded to Bandjermasin for identification, but it was invariably buried afterward.”
“I wish you were all further with your ghosts and dead men’s heads,” exclaimed La Cueille. “I shall be dreaming of them all night.”
After securely mooring their boat their first care was to provide a meal, as they had scarcely tasted anything during the preceding twenty-four hours. Some dry branches were collected and they soon had a good fire to cook their food. Thanks to Baba Poetjieng, they found some green bamboo stalks in the canoe. These the Dayaks cut up into small cylinders, which after [[44]]being filled with moistened rice and closed with pieces of wood were thrown on the fire. After some fifteen or twenty minutes the bamboo tubes burst asunder with a loud report. The Dayaks then withdrew them from the fire, opened them and spread the cooked rice upon large leaves.
“By Jove!” Wienersdorf said, “this is convenient. We need not fear the breaking of pots or pans, since our supply is always ready.”
“Yes,” laughed Johannes, “and the store is well stocked.”