The dress of the Dayaks is very simple; the men wear the chawat, a strip of cloth round their loins; a jacket and head-dress, the last sometimes of bark, and fantastically put on; their ornaments are brass rings, necklaces of beads and sometimes of tiger-cat’s teeth, and very neat plaited rings of rattan, stained black. The women have a short petticoat reaching from the hips to the knees, a jacket, and round their waists a band, often ten inches wide, of bark or bamboo, kept together by brass wire or rattans. It fits tight, and is only removed on the woman becoming pregnant.
Captain Brooke’s principal object in making this tour was to inquire into the complaints which had been brought against the Datu Patinggi of forcing the Dayak tribes to deal with him, whether they wanted his goods or not, and insisting upon fixing his own price on the articles supplied. The complaints were more than substantiated; even the Chinese were unable to procure rice, and were forced to content themselves with the pig trade.
This was the Datu’s system: he sent up a chanang, a kind of small gong much esteemed by the Dayaks, and ordered them to buy it at an exorbitant rate; before they had paid for that he sent another, keeping up a constant supply to prevent them trading with other people. When he heard that another Malay had sold a chanang in fair trade to these Dayaks, he would instantly send two more and force them to receive them. He had done the same with regard to salt, and to the clothes of both male and female, striving to his utmost to secure a monopoly. In this path he was followed by all his relations and connexions, their threats bullied and terrified the Dayaks, who loudly complained also of being used as beasts of burden without receiving hire.
The Senahs are altogether an interesting tribe; in manner the men are more polite; the women are fuller of life; some of the girls were pretty, their best age being six to sixteen, after that they begin to fall off. They appear to marry very young, and have for Asiatics rather large families—four, five, and six children were quite common. Some of the old gentlemen observed that, though they were only allowed to marry one wife, yet they were not strictly faithful to her if a favourable opportunity occurred, which observation seemed much to amuse the assembly.
Among the women was the widow of a Dayak, whose story is well worth relating as illustrative of their character and of their ways. He was a fine, handsome man, certainly the most handsome Dayak I have ever seen, tall and powerfully made, with a bold, open countenance; he was called Pa Bunang. The Orang Kaya of the Senahs took a liking to him, and having no children adopted and found him a wife among his own relations. She was a nice-looking girl, plump and well made. In former times the husband had been much noticed by Europeans, and in the pride of his heart determined to be the first man in the tribe: the only one he thought likely to oppose his pretensions was Pa Mua, the Orang Kaya’s brother, who would not allow him to interfere in public affairs, and opposed his pretensions to superiority, in which he was supported by the sympathies of the whole community. Pa Bunang then determined on more violent methods than he had yet practised; he left the tribe for a few days and returned with the announcement that the Sarawak Government was so pleased with him, that they intended to make him a great man in the tribe. Resolving to get rid of his rival, he lay in wait for him one day in a by-path, concealing himself carefully behind some bushes; the unsuspecting Pa Mua passed by, when he sprang upon him, and with one blow of his sword laid him dead at his feet, and then rushed into the jungle, thinking he had done the deed unnoticed, but at the moment of striking, the son of the murdered man came round the turning of the path in time to witness the act and to recognize the culprit. The alarm was given, and before the man could reach the Orang Kaya’s house, where his wife and child resided, a menacing crowd had assembled. He coolly assured them that he was acting under the orders of the Sarawak Government, and was now going to report the accomplishment of the deed. Though the people did not believe him, they suffered him to depart with his family, but followed closely in his track. They denounced him, he was instantly seized, thrown into prison, and after ten days, to allow witnesses to assemble, the affair came on before the Sarawak Court.
It was so curious a case that I determined to be present at the trial. I found the court crowded, at least a dozen Englishmen were assembled, who, with the Malay chiefs, acted as a kind of jury. Though the case was clear in many respects, yet the greatest pains were taken to obtain the best evidence: the son of the murdered man was present, but it was at first feared from the preliminary inquiries, that he would be afraid to give his evidence before the prisoner. When he was called into court the lad appeared perfectly changed; he gave his evidence with a coolness, a precision, and yet with an intensity that nothing but the deepest feelings could excite; he never faltered once, but wound up his story by pointing to the prisoner and saying, “My father was killed by that man.” The prisoner could offer no defence; at first he denied the deed, then said that Pa Mua had seduced his wife, then confessed and implored for mercy. The verdict was unanimous, and he was condemned to death. A fearful scene now took place; the constables had very improperly allowed the wife and child to sit close beside him, and he had, while the lad was giving his evidence, unnoticed by any, got his little child to crawl in between his manacled arms. When he heard the sentence he threw himself on his knees and begged in piteous terms for mercy, but finding it was useless he declared his wife and child should die with him; he first struck at the former and then tried to strangle the little thing between his arms, and failing in that, while struggling with the police, he fixed his teeth so tightly in the child’s neck that they had to be forced open with the point of a drawn sword. His wife fled, and the child was saved, but he continued to struggle, and his roars could be heard until he was secured in his cell. I never witnessed a more painful scene. A marked contrast to that of the Malay who, calm and placid to the last moment, receives his condemnation with the observation, “It is your sentence,” and walks quietly to prison and to execution.
The evening was spent in dancing, singing, and drinking, until the fun waxed fast and furious.
The next station up the river is San Piuh, which we did not visit, as business prevented our extending our tour. We were delighted with the position of the house in which we were staying; it was on the bank of the stream, here but a foot deep, occasionally not even six inches, so that the canoes had to be dragged over the pebbly bottom. The water coming from the neighbouring high mountains is both clear and cool, offering delightful places for bathing. In one large and deep pool, a little below the landing-place, the Dayaks say alligators congregate; but if so, they must be harmless, as I saw very little children bathing there; but yet I did not venture, as they might have been attracted by the unusual colour of my skin. The baths we obtain in the interior are of themselves worth the exertion of reaching those sequestered spots; the refreshing and invigorating feeling after a plunge into the cool stream is indeed delightful.
About midday we parted from our kind hosts, not before we had given solemn promises to return again as soon as possible, and now directed our faces homeward. The descent of the river was exciting, now leisurely suffering the canoe to float with the stream; then, as the distant roar announced a rapid, intelligent were the movements of the Dayaks, as they chose the least dangerous part, the waters increasing in speed as we approached the fall; then caught by the stream, we hurried along at the pace of a racehorse, and dashing through the foam were shot into the tranquil pool that generally forms below a rapid. At one we were compelled to take out all our baggage, and the non-swimmers walked past the obstruction to be re-shipped below. It was with feelings, half of envy, half of admiration, that I saw Captain Brooke tempt the danger.
About half-way down to Sibuñgoh we saw white flags overhanging the river at a landing-place, and there in a temporary hut was waiting the Orang Kaya of Brang; we stayed with him about an hour, and resisting his pressing invitation to his village, on account of our previous engagement, heard what he desired to communicate, and then continued our course to Sibuñgoh. We soon transhipped our goods to the large boat, and were not sorry, as many hours in a small canoe is fatiguing. We found that the Orang Kaya was no longer under taboo, so we stayed some little time with him, and then hurried on to the next landing-place, where we found a large party of Dayaks ready to escort us to the village of Grung.