Drops of perspiration, for instance, would form upon the Trumpet when a leading member of the Royal House was about to die (this actually happened, as I was told, at Langat just before the death of Tungku ’Chik, the late Sultan’s eldest daughter, who died during my residence in the neighbourhood). Then one Raja Bakar, son of a Raja ʿAli, during the rethatching of the house at Bandar, accidentally trod upon the wooden barrel of one of the State Drums—and died in consequence of his inadvertence. When, therefore, a hornet’s nest formed inside one of these same drums it was pretty clear that things were going from bad to worse, and a Chinaman was ordered to remove it, no Malay having been found willing to risk his life in undertaking so dangerous an office—an unwillingness which was presently justified, as the Chinaman, too, after a few days’ interval, swelled up and died. Both these strange coincidences were readily confirmed by the present Sultan on an occasion when I happened to question the authenticity of the story, and as His Highness is one of the most enlightened and truthful of men, such confirmation cannot easily be set aside. But the strangest coincidence of all was to follow, for not long afterwards, having never seen that portion of the regalia which was in the Raja Muda’s charge, I happened to mention to a Malay friend of mine at Jugra my wish to be allowed to examine these objects, and was at once begged not to touch them, on the ground that “no one could say what might follow.” But shortly after, having occasion to visit the Raja Muda at his house at Bandar, I took the opportunity of asking whether there was any objection to my seeing these much debated objects, and as His Highness not only very obligingly assented, but offered to show them to me himself, I was able both to see and to handle them, His Highness himself taking the Trumpet out of its yellow case and handing it to me. I thought nothing more of the matter at the time, but, by what was really a very curious coincidence, within a few days’ time of the occurrence, was seized with a sharp attack of malarial influenza, the result of which was that I was obliged to leave the district, and go into hospital at headquarters. In a Malay village news spreads quickly, and the report of my indisposition, after what was no doubt regarded as an act of extraordinary rashness, appears to have made a profound impression, and the result of it was that a Malay who probably considered himself indebted to me for some assistance he had received, bound himself by a vow to offer sacrifice at the shrine of a famous local saint should I be permitted to return to the district. Of this, however, I knew nothing at the time, and nothing could have exceeded my astonishment when I found upon my return that it was my duty to attend the banquet which took place at the saint’s tomb in honour of my own recovery![56]
Having shown the wide gulf which divides the “divine man” from his fellows, I have still to point out the extent to which certain portions of the human frame have come to be invested with sanctity, and to require to be treated with special ceremonies. These parts of the anatomy are, in particular, the head, the hair, the teeth, the ears, and the nails, all of which I will take in their order.
The head, in the first place, is undoubtedly still considered by the Malays to possess some modified degree of sanctity. A proof of this is the custom (ʿadat) which regulates the extent of the sacrifice to be offered in a case of assault or battery by the party committing the injury. If any part of the head is injured, nothing less than a goat will suffice (the animal being killed and both parties bathed in the blood); if the upper part of the body, the slaughter of a cock (to be disposed of in a similar way) will be held to be sufficient reparation, and so on, the sacrifice becoming of less value in proportion as the injured part is farther from the head. So, too, Mr. Frazer writes: “The ... superstition (of the sanctity of the head) exists among the Malays; for an early traveller reports that in Java people ‘wear nothing on their heads, and say that nothing must be on their heads, ... and if any person were to put his hand upon their head they would kill him; and they do not build houses with stories in order that they may not walk over each other’s heads.’ It is also found in full force throughout Polynesia.”[57]
From the principle of the sanctity of the head flows, no doubt, the necessity of using the greatest circumspection during the process of cutting the hair.[58] Sometimes throughout the whole life of the wearer, and frequently during special periods, the hair is left uncut. Thus I was told that in former days Malay men usually wore their hair long, and I myself have seen an instance of this at Jugra in Selangor in the person of a Malay[59] of the old school, who was locally famous on this account. So, too, during the forty days which must elapse before the purification of a woman after the birth of her child, the father of the child is forbidden to cut his hair, and a similar abstention is said to have been formerly incumbent upon all persons either prosecuting a journey or engaging in war. Often a boy’s head is entirely shaven shortly after birth with the exception of a single lock in the centre of the head, and so maintained until the boy begins to grow up, but frequently the operation is postponed (generally, it is said, in consequence of a vow made by the child’s parents) until the period of puberty or marriage. Great care, too, must be exercised in disposing of the clippings of hair (more especially the first clippings), as the Malay profoundly believes that “the sympathetic connection which exists between himself and every part of his body continues to exist even after the physical connection has been severed, and that therefore he will suffer from any harm that may befall the severed parts of his body, such as the clippings of his hair or the parings of his nails. Accordingly he takes care that those severed portions of himself shall not be left in places where they might either be exposed to accidental injury, or fall into the hands of malicious persons who might work magic on them to his detriment or death.”[60]
Thus we invariably find clippings of the victim’s hair mentioned (together with parings of his nails, etc.) as forming part of the ingredients of the well-known wax image or mannikin into which pins are stuck, and which is still believed by all Malays to be a most effective method of causing the illness or death of an enemy.[61] I was once present at the curious ceremony of cutting the hair of a Malay bride, which had all the characteristics of a religious rite, but the detailed account of it will be reserved for a later chapter.[62]
The same difficulties and dangers which beset the first cutting of the hair apply, though perhaps in a less degree, to the first paring of the nails (bĕrtobak), the boring of the ears of girls (bĕrtindek tĕlinga), and the filing of the teeth (bĕrasah gigi) of either sex whether at puberty or marriage. One or more of the nails are frequently worn long by Malays of standing, and the women who engage in “nautch” dancing and theatrical performances invariably wear a complete set of artificial nails (changgei). These latter are usually of brass, are often several inches in length, and are made so as to fit on to the tips of the fingers. Occasionally a brass ring with a small peacock, or some such bird, of the same material will be attached to the end of the nail by a minute brass chain. The practice of wearing long nails is sometimes attributed to Chinese influence, but it is hard to see why this particular detail of Malay custom, which is quite in keeping with the general trend of Malay ideas about the person, should be supposed to be derived from China. The borrowing, if any, is much more likely to have been on the part of the Chinese, who undoubtedly imported many Indian ideas along with Buddhism. The custom appears to be followed, moreover, in many places, such as the interior of Sumatra, where Chinese influence is non-existent. In Siam, again, it appears to obtain very strongly;[63] but no reason has yet been shown for supposing that this is anything but an instance of the similarity of results independently arrived at by nations starting with similar premisses.
The ear-boring and tooth-filing ceremonies which still not infrequently take place at the age of puberty in both sexes are of no less religious import than the rite of cutting the first lock. The main details of these ceremonies will be described in a later part of this book.[64]
To the same category (of sacred things having physical connection with the body) should doubtless be referred such objects as the eyebrows, the saliva, and soil taken from the (naked) footstep, all of which are utilised by the magician to achieve his nefarious ends.