The Lelaks are an unusually industrious household; they cultivate an abundance of rice and keep it stored for rainy days, in granaries which, although they are far away from their dwellings and hidden in the jungle, they decorate with graceful designs in black paint upon a white ground. In their houses, also, almost every beam-end is carved into barbaric figures of men or of monkeys in twisted positions with arms and legs interlacing; also many of the upright posts supporting the roof have carved in them deep niches to serve as seats.
In the evening, under the benign effects of a hearty meal of rice and fish and of numerous cigarettes, Tama Bulan became jovial, and his broad, genial smile beamed to right and left on all as he sat with his back against one of the carved house-posts, and proposed that we the guests should be entertained with some of the dances for which the Lelak women are famous. Of course, the women were coquettishly shy at first and scurried off to their rooms. Tama Bulan was not, however, to be thus put off or put down, but appealed to the Orang Tuah to send searching parties for the best dancers. Then he turned to Dr. Hose, and, in a metaphor of which he was fond, said, chuckling, ‘Tuan, this fishing doesn’t seem to be very successful; all the good, plump fish have gone up-stream, and left us nothing but these bony ones;’ here he nodded toward some old and thin beldames, calling them by the names of the poorer kinds of fish which generally are thrown away; but when, a few moments later, three young girls, dressed in their best skirts and with bright-coloured fillets round their heads, shuffled coyly out from their rooms ready for the dance, he lit a fresh cigarette and settled back comfortably in his seat, saying, ‘Aha! Here are plump fish worth looking at.’
DECORATED STORE HOUSE FOR RICE.
THE PLANT GROWING DENSELY AROUND IT, IS WILD TAPIOCA.
The dance was like that of almost all of the Malay and allied races, more waving of the arms and swaying of the body than movements of the feet. It was exceedingly like the dances of the Javanese, wherein movements of hands and wrists are the chief features. It appeared to be a solemn performance; instead of the fixed, mechanical smile of our ballet dancers, there was a stare of constrained solemnity verging on a scowl.
The effect on the dancers themselves was marked; demure as were their motions, their excitement was great. One of them suddenly ceased and, leaning against the wall, declared that she was exhausted with the strain. Although the movements of the dance had been slow and gentle, she was undeniably almost in an ecstatic trance, with eyes half closed and breathing labored.
Very different were the Kayan dances which followed; the men vied with each other in wild leaps and shouts, springing high in the air and coming down on their knees, all the while battling with imaginary foes; slashing with their parang and waving their shield in rhythmical time to the drone of the kaluri.
Our hand-clapping by way of applause caused great laughter and astonishment, and the ever-present small boys imitated it in high glee. Their only fashion of showing approval or wonder is by a loud cluck with the tongue. Once on a time, when we happened to stop at a house which, during the selection of a rice-field, was under a ‘lali’ or restriction, (no stranger may then enter and no inmate leave it,) Dr. Hiller and myself were urgently requested to pace up and down in front of the house, after we had stripped ourselves to the waist, so that the inmates might have the privilege of seeing our Japanese tattooing. They had all gathered in a row behind the railing of the veranda, and as we passed along below, the succession of explosive clucks of unbounded admiration sounded like musketry in the distance. Eagerness to see our tattooing broke down for us many a barrier. Although the Borneans themselves are masters in the art, nevertheless they use but one colour, and could not believe that the variegated Japanese designs were not painted, instead of pricked in. Many a time this incredulity proved a sore trial, by subjecting us to vigorous attempts at rubbing off the colour with a dirty thumb, well moistened on the tongue. Here also at the Lelak house, at Tama Bulan’s urgent request, I stripped to the waist, and the sight of Hori Chiyo’s best handiwork on my back so inspired one elderly woman, that, after the chorus of clucks had subsided, she burst into song, which, being in the Lelak dialect, I was unable to understand, but was assured it was extremely complimentary.
The guest chambers in a Lelak house are boxes about five feet square, suspended from the roof, and to which access can be gained only by a ladder. Possibly, this is for the comfort of the guest; possibly, it is in order that he may not have too much liberty. We preferred, however, the floor of the veranda, but before morning I realized the error; three times was I awakened by an incubus of a dog curling himself up for sleep on my chest.