The home-life of Borneo head-hunters

by William Henry Furness

When the rice is all harvested, the household is lali to strangers, and for eight days no one can go off on any expedition nor return to the house from an expedition. No sooner does this lali end, than another begins, while the rice is being stored in the granaries. But as soon as this harvesting is over, a general feast is prepared, and merriment of all sorts makes up for the weariness of the long day’s work. The women don every stitch of their finery and every bead to their name; some even assume men’s clothes, and carry shield, spear, and parang. In the evening, all join in a long procession round the house; guests are invited to participate in the festivities, and ‘jest and youthful jollity’ rule the hour; the brimming cup passes freely, and to the harmonious strains of the kaluri the women ‘trip it as they go,’ or leap in war-dances, in imitation of the men. As a half apology for all this ‘heart-easing mirth,’ they told me that this harvest at least was theirs,—they might not live to see another.

IBAN CAMPHOR-COLLECTORS SPLITTING UP A CAMPHOR TREE IN SEARCH OF CRYSTALS.

WHEN ALL THE OMENS HAVE BEEN AUSPICIOUS, THE CAMPHOR TREE IS FELLED AND THEN, DECKED OUT IN THEIR FINEST WAR CLOTHES, THE COLLECTORS EXAMINE WITH MINUTEST CARE EVERY CRACK AND CREVICE IN THE TRUNK OF THE TREE WHERE THE CRYSTALS MIGHT LURK. THERE IS NO PRODUCT OF THE JUNGLE ABOUT WHICH THERE IS SO MUCH MYSTERY AS ABOUT CAMPHOR, AND WHILE SEARCHING FOR IT THE COLLECTORS ARE HEDGED IN AT EVERY TURN BY PERMANTONG OR TABOO, AND MUST TALK IN A LANGUAGE USED ONLY DURING QUESTS FOR THE ELUSIVE CRYSTALS.

After this festival there follows another lali, known as the ‘Lali Neboko;’ it lasts for ten long days, and is apparently devoted by the women to the resumption of their proper sphere and duties; they make all sorts of cakes out of the new rice, and vie with each other in devising toothsome dishes for their lovers and husbands. During all this lali, no one is permitted to do a stroke of any work that resembles the cultivation of rice; a parang or a billiong, or any tool used in felling the jungle, is a strictly lali article; should any restless creature express a desire for active work, he is scoffed at and scorned as a spoil-sport and kill-joy.

During the Permantong Padi, the large wooden mortars, wherein the rice is husked, are enclosed in bamboo railings, to prevent human beings, and dogs also, from touching them. The store of rice will last but a short time should these mortars be touched by any hands other than those whose duty it is to use them. If a dog in search of food, or of a place to sleep, crawl into one of them, he is straightway caught, and his hair rubbed the wrong way with a cord, which they call a ‘Tali Gamai.’ During this rubbing, the owner of the mortar exorcises the evil Spirit by saying: ‘I stroke this dog thus, because I do not wish my food to disappear on account of this dog. Let my food last until the next year’s crop. One! Two! Three! Four!’ The dog is sure to die, so they say, very soon after this ceremony. These large mortars are fastened to the floor, and when not in use are often used as seats, except during the Permantong Padi, when even the deep hollow in the centre is plugged up, to keep the dogs, which no railing can exclude, from licking it in their search for remnants of rice.

Besides the Permantong Padi, there are many minor permantongs in the daily life of the Kayans; for instance, in a Kayan house it is permantong to whistle after dark. To play the kaluri, or the nose-flute, is allowable, even though thereby the same sound as whistling is produced; whistling summons evil Spirits, and is sure to bring mischief into the house. Some Ibans aver that in old times it was strictly against all rule ever to whistle in the house, even in the daytime.

It is permantong, or lali, for a member of a dead man’s household to give anything to be used in laying out the corpse; cloth or other things necessary for such purposes may be obtained from any other than a member of the same house. When in need of such things, the relatives and friends should ask for them when the patient is moribund, and not after death has put a seal on his lips, preventing him from making the request himself. When the corpse has been laid out for several days, no one, whether a member of the household or not, is willing to sell or give any thing to be placed upon the corpse; it may be placed, however, close by the corpse with perfect propriety, together with cigarettes, which carry messages to dead friends. Dr. Hose told me that on one occasion, while he was talking to Tama Bulan, in his long-house on the Pata River, a message was brought to the Chief from a very sick man, with the request for enough white cloth to make a ‘Bah’ or waist-cloth, wherein to die. Tama Bulan asked whether the message came from the man himself or from his relatives, and showed no inclination to give the cloth until he learned that the man was still alive; then he very willingly produced the number of fathoms desired. He explained afterward, that had the man been dead, and the request come from the relatives, he would not have given the Bah. Had he given it under these circumstances, it would have angered the Spirits, and they would have claimed the giver as the next victim.

When a man is sick and likely to die, no one in the house is allowed to open boxes, or any receptacles whatever, at night, except it be the small tobacco boxes of bamboo which all carry, or the ordinary baskets wherein they keep the sleeping-mats; breach of this law brings death into the room in which the offence was committed.