“At this stage of the proceedings four men stationed in the rice-field beyond the four corners of the patch of turf, each threw a kĕtupat diagonally across to one another, while the rest of the assembly, headed by the Pĕnghulu, chanted the kalimah, or Muhammadan creed, three times.
“Then a man holding a large bowl started from a point in the rice-field just outside the north side of the patch of turf, and went round it (first in a westerly direction). As he walked, he put handfuls of the rice into his mouth and spat or vomited them out, with much noise, as if to imitate violent nausea, into the field. He was followed closely by another who also held a bowl filled with pieces of raw tapioca root and bĕras bĕrtih (rice roasted in a peculiar way),[207] which he threw about into the field. Both of them went right round the grass plot. The Pawang then took his cup of tĕpong tawar and sprinkled the anak padi, that is, the rice-shoots which were lying in bundles along the south and east sides of the altar ready for planting. Having sprinkled them he cut off the ends, as is usually done; and after spitting to the right and to the left, he proceeded to plant them in the field. A number of others then followed his lead and planted the rest of the rice-plants, and then a sweetmeat made of cocoa-nut and sugar was handed round, and Muhammadan prayers were said by some duly qualified person, an orang ʿalim or a lĕbei, and the ceremony was concluded.
“It was explained to me that the blood and the food were intended for the hantu, and the ladder up to the altar was for his convenience; in fact the whole affair was a propitiatory service, and offers curious analogies with the sacrificial ceremonials of some of the wild aboriginal tribes of Central India who have not been converted to Hinduism or Islām. That it should exist in a Malay community within twenty miles of the town of Malacca, where Muhammadanism has been established for about six[208] centuries, is certainly strange. Its obvious inconsistency with his professed religion does not strike the average Malay peasant at all. It is, however, the fact that these observances are not regarded with much favour by the more strictly Muhammadan Malays of the towns, and especially by those that are partially of Arab descent. These latter have not much influence in country districts, but privately I have heard some of them express disapproval of such rites and even of the ceremonies performed at kramats. According to them, the latter might be consistent with Muhammadan orthodoxy on the understanding that prayers were addressed solely to the Deity; but the invocation of spirits or deceased saints and their propitiation by offerings could not be regarded as otherwise than polytheistic idolatry. Of course such a delicate distinction—almost as subtle as that between dulia and latria in the Christian worship of saints—is entirely beyond the average Malay mind; and everything is sanctioned by immemorial custom, which in an agricultural population is more deeply-rooted than any book-learning; so these rites are likely to continue for some time, and will only yield gradually to the spread of education. Such as they are, they seem to be interesting relics of an old-world superstition.
“I have mentioned only a few such points, and only such as have been brought directly to my knowledge; there are hosts of other quaint notions, such as the theory of lucky and unlucky days and hours, on which whole treatises have been written, and which regulate every movement of those who believe in them; the belief in amulets and charms for averting all manner of evils, supernatural and natural; the practice during epidemics of sending out to sea small elaborately constructed vessels which are supposed to carry off the malignant spirits responsible for the disease (of which I remember a case a few years ago in the village of Sempang, where the beneficial effect was most marked); the widespread belief in the power of mĕnuju, that is, doing injury at a distance by magic, in which the Malays believe the wild junglemen especially to be adepts; the belief in the efficacy of forms of words as love-charms and as a protection against spirits and wild beasts—in fact, an innumerable variety of superstitious ideas exist among Malays.”[209]
The Reaping Ceremony
On the 28th January 1897 I witnessed (at Chodoi, in the Kuala Langat district of Selangor) the ceremony of fetching home the Rice-soul.
Time of Ceremony.—I arrived at the house belonging to the Malay owner of the rice-field a little past 8 A.M., the hour at which the ceremony was to take place having been fixed at angkat kĕning (about 9 A.M.) a few days previously. On my arrival I found the Pawang (sorceress), an aged Selangor woman, seated in front of the baskets required for the ceremony.[210]
Accessories.—At her extreme left stood one of the circular brass trays with high sides which are called dulang by the Malays, containing the following objects:—
- 1. A small bowl of “parched rice” (b’ras bĕr’tih).
- 2. A small bowl of “saffron rice” (b’ras kunyit).
- 3. A small bowl of “washed rice” (b’ras basoh).
- 4. A small bowl of “oil of frankincense.”
- 5. A small bowl of “oil of Celebes” (minyak Bugis).
- 6. A small bowl of “incense” (kĕm’nyan).
- 7. A small bundle of incense (in addition to the bowl).
- 8. One of the hard jungle-nuts called buah k’ras (the candle-nut).
- 9. One of the shells called k’rang (a cockle shell).
- 10. A hen’s egg.
- 11. A stone (a small block of quartz).
- 12. A large iron nail.
- 13 to 15. Three Malay reaping instruments (pĕnuwei).[211]
Close to the dulang stood a cocoa-nut shell filled with the tĕpong tawar, which plays so prominent a part in Malay magic ceremonies, and a brush made up of the leaves of seven different plants, bound up as usual with a cord of kulit t’rap (the bark of the Wild Breadfruit), and ribu-ribu (a kind of small creeper). The plants which supplied the leaves of which the brush was composed, were as follows:—