On the second day the search is kept up, and if the hawk be now seen, it is favourable, but not completely favourable; if they returned to the house, they would not probably refer to it, lest their chances for the morrow be thereby jeopardised. But should they fail to catch sight of the hawk on the third day, they would accept the omen of the second day, and be fairly well content; the search must be continued, however, until the last chance of the most favourable of omens is gone.
If on the third day’s search, the hawk is again observed, the omen of the second day is rejected, and the omen of the third day is the only one accepted. A small pile of chips is at once set on fire, to inform the hawk, that a blessing is expected on their crops, and the Laki-Niho hurry back to the house to spread the good news. Every one in the house now lights a cigarette or waves a fire-brand, whereby a blessing is invoked on his or her particular rice-farm, and all eagerly watch for the hawk, to see whether or not he sails around without flapping his wings. Should he sail away out of sight without once flapping his wings all are delighted; it means that the clearing of the jungle may now continue prosperously, and that neither attack of enemies nor accident to the workers need be feared. Should the hawk flap his wings, it follows that some men, in felling the jungle, will be badly cut by their axes or perhaps crushed under falling trees. All instantly avert their eyes from the flapping hawk, lest the bird should recognise them in the fields and select them as victims. After they have made their wishes known to the hawk by means of the fire, there is a respite of a day or two in the permantong, and the people are allowed to go out of doors.
FIELD OF HILL RICE, CLEARED AND PLANTED BY IBANS IN THE BARAM DISTRICT.
After this short respite, the same two Laki-Niho again set out, this time in search of the Talajan bird; and again the people are housed. This search lasts three days also, and on the third day, if successful, they perform the same rite as before with fire and smoke. Next follows a three days’ lookout for the Tela-au deer, which must be not only seen but heard; if it dart off the minute it is seen, without giving its gruff bark, it foretells a misfortune, but to an individual merely, not to the whole household; consequently, but very little attention comparatively is paid to it.
The tedious formalities are now nearly over, and there remain but two more animals to be observed, namely, the Munin and the Makong, (Berenicornis comatus, the white-headed Horn-bill;) these two, also, must utter some sound to show whether or not they are favourable. These are all the omens that must be consulted before the heavy timber can be felled and the rice planted. During each period of three days, all members of the household must remain within the house.
When the felled jungle is become dry, it is burned over, and as soon as the ground is cool they dibble in the grain. From the hour when the real labour of felling the jungle begins, until the seed-planting is finished, no stranger is allowed to enter the house or field; should inadvertence or necessity bring a neighbor within the lali district, he must pay a small offering to atone for the trespass. This offering is known as ‘Usut,’ and is ordinarily a few beads or something of iron, such as a spear-head, or an old knife. The usut is placed in a basket and hung up in the rice-field until it rusts away or disappears. To see that this usut is properly paid, is the duty of the women, who call the custom ‘Toh Lali,’ or Lali of the Spirits. (Once, when on our way down the river from Tama Bulan’s, we stopped at a house, and, finding no one about, walked boldly up the bank, whereupon the head-man hurried down to meet us, and demanded, with considerable persistence, that we should give him a knife. Thinking he was hinting at a present, I searched in the canoe for one of my good hunting-knives. On receiving it, he incontinently thrust it into a basket and sent it off to the rice-fields to be hung up and to rust away. An old table-knife or any bit of old iron would have done as well, but my ignorance cost me a valuable knife, which I am sure was wasted on the Toh.)
The crop is now fairly started. The heaviest part of the task of keeping down the weeds falls to the women, who rise with the sun, and, as soon as the household is fairly awake, start off in rain or shine for the fields, in parties of six or eight, armed with their little, short-handled, lop-sided hoes. Usually they do not eat until they arrive at the scene of their labours; sometimes they halt at a pebbly ‘karangan,’ where dry wood is plenty, and there break their fast, but do not eat again until they return to the house in the evening.
Shortly before the rice is cut, a basket containing pieces of wood, roots, leaves, and strings of beads is carried to the field and left there for three days. This basket of offerings, or charms for the crop, is called the ‘Tigga,’ and after the rice is cut the basket and its contents are placed either on a shelf in the granaries or else on the platform just outside the door.
During the harvesting of the ‘Parai Agit,’ a small patch of rice planted first, and always harvested first, there is a lali of four days, known as the ‘Lamali Parai,’ (lali of the pregnant rice.) Of the Parai Agit no woman must eat; if she does eat of this rice, she will go mad. Reiterated questionings failed to disclose the origin of this belief, and even the reason for planting the Parai Agit itself.