We saw a very curious war-dance; two men, one of a Rejang tribe, the other from a distant river, commenced a sham fight, with sword and shield; one of them was dressed as a Malay, the other as a Dayak. With slow side movements of their arms and legs, advancing and retreating, cutting and guarding to a measured step, and in regular time; then they changed to quick movements, stooping low till the shield completely covered them: with a hopping, dancing motion they kept giving and receiving blows till one of them fled; the other immediately followed, but cautiously, as the fugitive was supposed to plant spikes in the path. At last they again met, and after a fierce combat one was slain, and the victor with a slow dancing step approached the body and was supposed to cut off the head of his enemy; but, on looking at it attentively, he found he had killed a friend, and showed signs of much grief. With a measured tread, he again drew near the body and pretended to restore the head; he retired and advanced several times, shaking the various limbs of the friend’s body, when the slain sprang up as lively as ever, and the two wound up by a frantic dance.
I have mentioned the ceremonies that took place at the solemnization of peace between the Sakarangs and Balaus; here they were slightly different. A pig was placed between the representatives of two tribes, who, after calling down the vengeance of the spirits on those who broke the treaty, plunged their spears into the animal, and then exchanged weapons. Drawing their krises, they each bit the blade of the other’s, and so completed the affair. The sturdy chief of Kajulo declared he considered his word as more binding than any such ceremony.
In the neighbourhood of the Kanowit, and scattered about these countries, are the wandering tribes of Pakatan and Punan, which seldom build regular houses, but prefer running up temporary huts, and when they have exhausted the jungle around of wild beasts and other food, they move to a new spot. They are the great collectors of wax, edible birds’ nests, camphor and rattans. They are popularly said to be fairer than the other inhabitants of Borneo, as they are never exposed to the sun, living in the thickest part of the old forest. Those we have seen were certainly darker, but they themselves assert that their women are fairer. It is probable that exposure to the air has as much effect upon them as exposure to the sun. I have often met with their little huts in the forest and used them as night lodgings, but I have never come across these wild tribes. I have seen individual men, but never communities.
The Pakatans and Punans are the true manufacturers of the Sumpitan, or blow-pipe; and in their hands it is a formidable weapon. It is curious to examine this product of their skill; and we cannot but admire the accuracy with which the hole is drilled through a hard wood shaft some seven or eight feet long.
I had often heard of the deadly effect of the poison into which the arrow was dipped, but always disbelieved the bulk of the native stories, though I must believe in the evidence we have lately had. In 1859, the Kanowit tribe, instigated by Sherif Musahor, murdered two English gentlemen, and then fled into the interior. Mr. Johnson, who led the attack on them, tells me he lost thirty men by wounds from the poisoned arrows. He found the bodies of Dayaks who had gone out as skirmishers without a mark, beyond the simple puncture where a drop of blood rested on the wound. One man was struck near him; he instantly had the arrow extracted, the wound sucked, a glass of brandy administered, and the patient sent off to the boats about four miles distant. Two companions supported him, and they had strict orders not to allow him to sleep till he reached the landing-place: they made him keep awake, and he recovered. As it is common to destroy deer, wild boars and other creatures with these arrows, no doubt man also can be killed.
I will now give an account of the manners and customs of the Sea Dayaks.
CHAPTER II.
SOCIAL LIFE OF THE SEA DAYAKS.
Ceremonies at the Birth of a Child—Infanticide—Desire for Children—A Talkative and Sociable People—Great Concord in Families—Method of Settling Disputes—Marriage Ceremonies—Pride of Birth—Chastity—Punishment of Indiscreet Lovers—Bundling and Company-keeping—Love—Anecdotes—Separations—Division of Household Duties—Flirting—Divorce—Burials—Religion—Belief in a Supreme Being—Good and Evil Spirits—The Small-pox—Priests—Some Dress as Women—Mourning—Sacrifices—Human Sacrifices—Unlucky Omens—Reconciliation—Belief in a Future State—The other World—Dayaks Litigious—Head-feast—Head-hunting—Its Origin—Horrible Revenge—Small Inland Expeditions—Cat-like Warfare—Atrocious Case—Large Inland Expeditions—War-boats—Edible Clay—Necessity for a Head—Dayaks very Intelligent—Slaves—Objections to Eating certain Animals, or Killing others—Change of Names—Degrees of Affinity within which Marriages may take place—Sickness—Cholera—Manufactures—Agriculture—Method of taking Bees’ Nests—Lying Heaps—Passports—Ordeals—Language.
At the Birth of Children.—The Sea Dayaks naturally look upon this as a very ordinary event; occasionally guns are fired to celebrate it, but even that practice has almost fallen into disuse. However, a few months after the birth of the infant, the Sakarang Dayaks give a feast in its honour, which generally takes place before they commence preparing their land for the rice crop, and another after the harvest to “launch the child” on the world. During these feasts the manang, or priest, waves the odoriferous areca-blossom over the babe, and moves about the house chanting monotonous tunes. The festival lasts a day and a night. The Dayak women suffer very little at their confinements, and seldom remain quiet beyond a few days. They are very anxious to have children, but if they have a preference, it is for boys; and when the only child is a daughter, they often make a vow to fire guns and give a feast, should the next prove a son.
It is very singular, that though these Dayaks are exceedingly fond of their offspring, yet infanticide sometimes occurs among the Batang Lupars; arising, it is said, from a selfish feeling of affection. One man confessed to Mr. Johnson that he had put an infant to death, because all the children born to him previously had died just as they arrived at an age when he could fondly love them. He said he could not endure to think that it should occur to him again. But this must have been a rare instance, since they feel acutely the loss of their children, and wander about inconsolable, and mope, and often refuse to work for months. They do not bear misfortunes well; even the loss of houses by fire, or their crops from bad seasons, disheartens them to an extent that is surprising to those who have watched the conduct of the Seribas Dayaks. The piratical pursuits in which these latter delighted have certainly given great energy to their character; and they recover immediately from the effects of the destruction of their villages and of their property, and set to work to create more wealth.