The Pagan Tribes of Borneo Part 27

The evil resulting from breach of any such prohibitions generally takes the form of wasting sickness with pains in the head, chronic cough, dysentery, or spitting of blood. When a Kenyah has knowingly for any reason, or unintentionally, come in contact with any one of the forbidden objects, or if he finds himself suffering from any of these things, and therefore suspects that he has unwittingly come under their influence, he subjects himself to a process of purification. At break of day he descends, with other members of his family, to the brink of the river provided with a chicken, a sword-blade, two frayed sticks, and a length of spiky vine known as ATAT. This latter is bent into the form of a ring, within which he takes his stand and awaits the appearance of Isit (the spider hunter -- one of the omen-birds). He calls it by name, Bali Isit; and as soon as Isit calls in reply, he pours out a long-winded address, charging him to convey to Bali Penyalong his prayer for recovery or protection. Then he snips off the head of the chicken, and wipes some of its blood on the frayed sticks and on the ring. The ring, with the chicken and the frayed sticks, are then lifted above his head by his attendants, and water is poured upon them from a bamboo, so that it drips from them on to his head. Eight times the ring is lifted up, and each time the pouring out of the water is repeated. Then, standing on the blade of the sword, he again addresses the omen-bird as before. This completes the rite, which is known as LEMAWA.

A similar rite of purification is practised by most of the other peoples. In some cases the princ.i.p.al feature of the rite of purification is being spat upon by the chief.

It may be broadly said that all these peoples are constantly on the alert to provide against unknown dangers; that, having no definite theories of causation, they are apt to accept every hint of danger or hurtful influence suggested by the attributes and relations of things, and to seek to avoid these influences or to ward them off or counteract them by every means that in any way suggests itself to their minds as possibly efficacious.

Although the Kayans regard a madman as possessed by an evil spirit, they seem to have no traditional methods of casting out the spirit; but some of the Klemantans practise a rite of exorcism; this varies in detail from tribe to tribe, and attains the greatest elaboration among the Malanaus. The rite is known as BAYOH, and bears a general resemblance to the corresponding Malay rite known as BERHANTU. The Malanaus are Klemantans of the coast regions of Sarawak, most of whom have recently become converted to Islam, while all of them have been much influenced by contact with Malays. The following account is reproduced from a paper published by one of us (C. H.) in the REVIEW OF THE FAR EAST (Feb. 1907), to the editor of which we are indebted for permission to make use of the paper: --

The ceremony of casting out evil spirits is of frequent occurrence among Malanaus, and the noise of gongs and drums throughout the night, lasting every night for sometimes a whole week, cannot fail to impress even a casual observer.

The natives of Niah, who are Malanaus, believe in a mult.i.tude of spirits, good and bad, great and small, important and of little account. At the head of these is Ula Gemilang, the sea divinity, a power who works for the good of man.[158] Adum Girang is another spirit of the sea, as also is Raja Duan, who has power over the sun, a spirit who is distinguished, when he appears in human form, by his white head-cloth. Majau is said to be pre-eminently rich. Aiar Urai Arang is said to be a small child whose mother is Aiar. Besides these there are other powerful spirits of the sea, the land, the up-river country, and so forth, and each is attended by innumerable slaves and attendants of ghostly kind; they have influence of many kinds over the dwellers in this world, some for good, others very much for evil. Madness is caused by various evil spirits throwing themselves into mortals, ghosts with red eyes which flash like lightning. The "amok" devil which comes from the swamp, differs from those which drive people to commit suicide -- these again being quite distinct from those which cause merely harmless lunacy.

It not infrequently happens that when a woman (or more rarely a man) is insane or is very ill, she is urged to admit that a devil has possessed her, and to become a medicine woman. By this means she becomes well of her complaint, and at the same time acquires the power of helping others to cast out devils. But she is not able of her own accord to determine whether she shall become a medicine woman or not. For three nights she is taken through the ceremony of BAYOH, afterwards to be described, without a rattan swing, and then for three nights with the swing. If the indications are favourable, some three weeks are allowed to elapse before she undergoes the final test of five nights with the swing. The first BAYOH is to satisfy the people, the second to appease the demon; and if her malady is cured by the eleven nights of artificial hysteria, she is considered to have been accepted both by men and spirits in her new role of exorciser.

As one woman expressed it, she is now "in with the demons." Even then, however, it does not follow that she is able to see when an evil spirit has ceased to possess a person. One old female, who had worked at BAYOH for fifteen years, admitted that if a devil went into herself she could turn it out, but only a more powerful woman than herself could turn devils out of others.

Two forms of BAYOH are known to the people of Niah, but it is only with the BAYOH SADONG that there is any need to deal here. The other form is used by the Punans, or mixed Punans and Malanaus. If it is supposed that some illness is due to possession by an evil spirit, it is decided to call the medicine women and get the unwelcome visitant to depart, though it is not considered possible in all cases to turn a demon out of his mortal abode. Offerings of eggs and fowls to the good spirits having proved fruitless, a day is fixed for the BAYOH, preferably shortly after a good harvest, and the household begins its preparations for the occasion. As powerful spirits are to be invited to the house, the room where they are to appear is decked with a profusion of ornaments suited to such exalted guests. Great ta.s.sels of white shavings are hung upon the walls, a white cloth adorned with the blossoms of the areca palm hides the rafters, and these graceful inflorescences are spread out fanwise over the doors and among the shavings. In one corner a hollow cone of areca blossoms and shavings spread over a framework of rattan is suspended from a rafter; and a model of a s.h.i.+p or raft is placed just outside an open window. As the function takes place at night, candles of beeswax are set about to give light. At the appointed time bra.s.s dishes are put on the floor with rice of many colours -- yellow, red, and blue -- spread in patterns of crocodiles; popcorns of rice and maize, water, and was.h.i.+ng utensils, boxes of betel ready for chewing, tobacco, and cigarettes, to appease the varied appet.i.tes of the spirits invoked. just after sundown the neighbours troop in and settle themselves round the room, the ill-mannered pus.h.i.+ng themselves in front. Certain of the villagers agree to form the band. Soon the house is full of people, boys and old men contentedly chewing and smoking, women retiring to darker parts of the room to gossip. A person of importance will be received with some show of civility, but without any definite ceremony. Arabian incense, KAMANYAN, which is used nowadays because the native GARU has too high a value for export to be consumed at home, disperses a not unpleasant smell through the gathering. Then the fun begins, gongs and drums are struck, and the strains of music sound through the village. With intervals of a quarter of an hour every two hours, the monotonous melody proceeds until seven the next morning, to be resumed, in all probability, the next night for another twelve hours, and perhaps maintained night after night for a whole week.

The medicine women -- one, two, or three, rarely four in number -- have collected in the middle of the room. Generally experienced by years of performing, they are often too old to be attractive, despite the gorgeous raiment with which they conceal their aged frames and the hawkbells which jingle as they move. At first they collect round the earthenware censers to warm their hands. They then begin to step with the music and wave their arms, hissing loudly through their teeth the while, and occasionally breaking into a whistle. After a time they sit down and nod this way and that to the music, as though engaged in training the muscles of the neck. But the drums and gongs go faster, till the long hair of the woman flies round with her head. The whistling is varied by a chant, SADONG, in an ancient language now barely understood.

"Why do you speak? Why do you SADONG? Why are you such a long time? As long as it takes a pinang (areca) to become old? The fruit of the cocoanut has had time to reach maturity and drop. Come to this country below the heavens. What do you wish? What is your desire? I have come to heal the sick one who lies on the floor, feeble and unable to rise, thin and shrivelled like a floating log. Have pity from your heart and prevent my soul from parting from my skin and my bones from failing away. This sickness is very severe and I am unable to contend against it."

One of the women goes to the patient, who, clad in black, sits alone on a mat, and brings her a pinang blossom to hold, covering her head with a cloth. The unfortunate being is then brought to the hollow cone of shavings and seated within it; it is then whirled round till the white shreds rise like a ballet dancer's skirt. Gradually the sick person is worked up to a frenzy, and, keeping time with the music, the medicine women sway about and wag their heads. So the proceedings go on, with weird fantastic dancing, nodding, howling, whistling, chanting, for all the hours of the tropical night. Then the medicine women are whirled round in the cone, and one by one they fall into a faint, to be recovered by fanning with the pinang blossom. They dance about and brush against the onlookers as though unable to control their movements, and are only kept at a distance by finding handfuls of rice flung in their faces. The point of giddiness and hysteria eventually reached can only be compared with certain stages of drunkenness.

The outsider will find it difficult to detect much method in the madness, but on more sober occasions the performers can offer intelligible explanations of their behaviour. The account given by an old medicine woman at Niah, and confirmed by the man who conducts the ceremonies at the same village, shows that the part taken by the spirits is quite as definite as the performance of the exorcisers. Attracted by the music, the followers of the chief evil spirits gather round the house when the BAYOH has begun, and hunt about. These little demons ask the chief medicine woman, "Why have you called us?" She replies, "Tell your master that I have called you because there is a person here sick." They then go back and fetch the more powerful spirit whom they serve. This demon comes up from the sea to the JONG, a small s.h.i.+p or raft that stands behind the house (Fig. 84), and finds his way up the rope ladder. He asks the BAYOH woman, "Why have you called me, mother?" She answers, "I have called you because there is a sick person here. You can help him! See whether you can help him or not." If the demon finds the sickness beyond his power to cure, he says, "I cannot help you; get some one else"; and the next night another one is invoked, until the evil spirit is cast out of the patient. If for seven nights the attempt is made in vain, the BAYOH is stopped and medicines are tried again, but with little hope that they will do much good. One of the BAYOHS I saw at Niah was on behalf of a slightly mad woman, who became very violent during the performance. She was said to be mad because she had become a Mohammedan, and it was explained that the Malanau demons had no power over the evil spirits of Islam. The poor woman was consequently put into stocks in her own room, and not long afterwards recovered.

When a big spirit comes into one of the medicine women, as they say, like a flash she feels its presence, but does not see its form. If it agrees to help, the woman goes on with the regular BAYOH, and soon feels confident that she is able to make the patient well. She asks for rice and other food, and spirit made from fruit, which she eats and drinks to gratify the demon within her. She calls upon the people to see that the viands are good, but not from any selfish motive, for it is said that she is not aware that she is eating at all. The coloured rice, which has been prepared, is the spirit's share, and eggs are also given. The demon invoked to help calls out to the evil spirit in possession of the sick person, "You stay in this craft whilst I sit here." "If you don't wish to stay here you can go to the woods, or your former abode." The evil spirit then goes from the patient into the basket prepared for his reception, and is then induced or ordered to depart by the demon in the medicine woman. What remains of the food set apart for the spirit is scattered along the river. The BAYOH is stopped, and thanksgiving offerings are floated out to sea that the exertions of the supernatural powers may not have been in vain, or these gifts may be taken into the jungle, where the hollow cone and raft are also placed or hung from a tree.

The medicine women work for a fee, and it is likely enough that the length of the BAYOH is influenced to some extent by their pay. Sometimes the ceremony is most gorgeous. A rattan swing, covered with a beautiful cloth, is provided for the women and the patient to swing in, with a platform near at hand to receive the evil, spirit. Sometimes Ula Gemilang himself is invoked. On these occasions the expenditure is profuse. A box is placed in the middle of the room with a handsome covering. The walk up the floor is covered with cloth of gold thread. There are seven candles in seven bra.s.s sticks, seven betel stands, and seven men carrying spears. When the G.o.d arrives, seven people carry the umbrella over his head. If every thing is not perfectly satisfactory in his judgment, he demands through the medicine woman whose body he has occupied some expensive gift, and if this is refused she may fall in a dead faint. Rice is thrown on her and she is fanned with the pinang blossoms, but the women who attend to her only share her fate and also become senseless. Eventually they recover, but there is now but little hope for the patient, for Gemilang is angry. In a despairing mood the BAYOH women then seek help from lesser powers.

Needless to say, the women bear out their part of the pantomime with great skill, becoming "possessed" at the proper time, s.n.a.t.c.hing at the sick person's head as though to catch the evil spirit, and so forth. It is probable that in some cases the ceremony works a cure by suggestion. In any case the villagers have not too many occasions for social gatherings and feasts, and since those who hold BAYOHS must offer a good deal of hospitality to their neighbours, such meetings in a village are exceedingly popular with all except those who wish to go to sleep.

CHAPTER 17

Myths, Legends, and Stories

Among all the peoples of Borneo a number of myths are handed on from generation to generation by word of mouth. These are related again and again by those who make themselves reputations as story-tellers, especially the old men and women; and the people are never tired of hearing them repeated, as they sit in groups about their hearths between supper and bed-time, and especially when camping in the jungle. The myths vary considerably in the mouths of different story-tellers, especially of those that live in widely separated districts; for the myths commonly have a certain amount of local colouring. Few or none of the myths are common to all the peoples; but those of any one people are generally known in more or less authentic form to their neighbours.

Although many of the myths deal with such subjects as the creation of the world, of man, of animals and plants, the discovery of fire and agriculture, subjects of which the mythology has been incorporated in the religious teachings of the cla.s.sical and Christian worlds, the mythology of these peoples has little relation to their religion. The G.o.ds figure but little in the myths, and the myths are related with little or no religious feeling, no sense of awe, and very little sense of obligation to hand them on unchanged. They are related in much the same spirit and on the same occasions as the animal stories, of which also the people are fond, and they may be said to be sustained by the purely aesthetic or literary motive, rather than the religious or scientific motives. In fact it is not possible to draw any sharp line between myths and fables. If it is asked, Do the people believe the myths? no clear answer can be given; for few of the myths have any direct bearing upon practical life, and therefore belief in them is not brought to the test of action, the only test that can reveal the reality of belief, or indeed differentiate belief from merely unreflective acceptance of a story. Where such practical bearing is not altogether wanting, we commonly see conduct regulated in conformity with the myth or story, as in the case of the story of the bat carrying to the creatures in the river the news of the intention of the people to poison the water.

A certain number of the Bornean myths and legends have been published in Mr. Ling Roth's book and elsewhere, especially those of the Ibans. We have chosen for reproduction some representative specimens that have not hitherto appeared in well-known publications. A few stories that properly belong to this chapter are scattered in other parts of this book.

We give first in a condensed form the substance of a long rambling creation-myth current among all branches of the Kayan people. This myth is sung in rhymed blank verse, a fact which is partly responsible for the wealth of names occurring in it.

In the beginning there was a barren rock. On this the rains fell and gave rise to moss, and the worms, aided by the dung-beetles, made soil by their castings. Then a sword handle (HAUP MALAT) came down from the sun[159] and became a large tree. From the moon came a creeper, which hanging from the tree became mated with it through the action of the wind.[160] From this union were born KALUBAN GAI and KALUBI ANGAI, the first human beings, male and female. These were incomplete, lacking the legs and lower half of their trunks, so that their entrails hung loose and exposed. Leaves falling from the tree became the various species of birds and winged insects, and from the fallen fruits sprang the fourfooted beasts. Resin, oozing from the trunk of the tree, gave rise to the domestic pig and fowl, two species which are distinguished by their understanding of matters that remain hidden from all others, even from human beings. The first incomplete human beings produced PENGOK NGAI and KATIRA MUREI; the latter bore a son, BATANG UTA TATAI, who married AJAI AVAI and begot SIJAU LAHO, ODING LAHANG, PABALAN, PLIBAN, and TOKONG, who became the progenitors of the various existing peoples. ODING LAKANG is claimed as their ancestor by the Kayans, and also by the Kenyahs and some of the Klemantan tribes.

TOKONG is claimed as ancestor by the Sebops (a tribe of Klemantans) and by the Punans. The former attribute to him the introduction of head hunting. The story goes that once upon a time, when TOKONG and his people were preparing to attack a village, he was addressed by the frog, who called out, "WONG KA KOK, TETAK BATOK." This fairly represents the cry of this species of frog (BUFO); and TETAK BATOK in the Sebop language means "cut through the neck." At first the people, who hitherto had taken only the hair of their enemies to adorn their s.h.i.+elds, scoffed at this advice; but the frog a.s.sured them that the taking of heads would bring them prosperity of every kind, and demonstrated the procedure he advised by decapitating a small frog. TOKONG therefore determined to follow the frog's advice and carried away the heads of his enemies; this was followed immediately by increased prosperity. As the party returned home and pa.s.sed through their fields the PADI grew very rapidly. As they entered the fields the PADI was only up to their knees, but before they had pa.s.sed through it was full-grown with full ears. As they approached the house their relatives came to meet them, rejoicing over various pieces of good fortune that had befallen them. The words of the frog thus came true, and Tokong and his people continued to follow the new practice, and from them it was learned by others.

Although the help of the stars is not needed by the Borneans in directing their course when travelling, since all but very short journeys are made on the rivers, most of them are familiar with the princ.i.p.al constellations, and name them in accordance with the resemblances they discover to men, animals, and other objects. Some of the tribes determine the arrival of the season for sowing PADI by the observation of the stars. Thus the LONG KIPUTS (Klemantans) name the great square of Pegasus PALAI, the PADI storehouse (these houses are generally square); the Pleiades they call a well; and the constellation of which Aldebaran is a member they call a pig's jaw. They measure the alt.i.tude of a star by filling a tall bamboo vessel with water, inclining it until it points directly to the star, and then setting it upright again, and measuring the height at which the surface of the water remaining in the vessel stands above its floor. Orion is interpreted as the figure of a man, LAFAANG, in much the same way as by Europeans; but his left arm is thought to be wanting. They tell the following story about LAFAANG, who of course is regarded as of their own tribe.

The Story of LAFAANG

The daughter of PALAI (the constellation Pegasus) fell in love with a Long Kiput youth, LAFAANG by name, and invited him to ascend to the heavens, warning him at the same time that the customs in her celestial home were very different from those of earth. The girl was very beautiful, and LAFAANG was not slow to find his way to her father's house. PALAI, surprised to see this mortal visitor, enquired of his daughter, "Who is this man, and why does he come here?" "It is the man I wish to wed," replied the girl. The kind-hearted father told her to give her lover food, and consented to the realisation of her hopes. So LAFAANG took up his abode in the house of PALAI and was wedded to his daughter. But in spite of repeated instructions, LAFAANG found it very difficult to conform to the customs of his adopted country. He put his food into his mouth with his fingers instead of using a needle for the purpose, and by doing so distressed his wife, who chid him for his disobedience to her instructions. On the morrow of his arrival he was invited to clear a patch of jungle for a PADI field; and his wife told him that, in order to fell a tree, he was merely to lay the axe she gave him at the foot of the tree, which would forthwith fall to the ground. But habit was too strong to be controlled, and, when LAFAANG set his hand to the task, he fell to chopping at the tree. But though he chopped with might and main he made no impression, and his gentle spouse was horrified to see the crudeness of his methods. On the next day he was told to watch PALAI at work felling the trees. Squatting in the jungle he saw how the great trees fell when PALAI merely laid the blade of the axe at the foot of each one. This spectacle filled LAFAANG with terror and he would have ran away, but that his wife reproached him for cowardice. On the following day he set to work again; and once more forgetting his lesson, he began to chop at the stems of the trees. This gross breach of custom was punished by the fall of a tree from the patch of jungle hard by that on which PALAI was at work; for the tree in falling cut off LAFAANG'S left arm. Disgusted by these disagreeable incidents and by the awkward appearance of his wife, who was now far advanced in pregnancy, LAFAANG made up his mind to return to his own people. His wife reproached him for his intention; but, when she could not alter his determination, she gave him sugar-cane tops and banana roots, previously unknown to men, and let him down to earth by means of a long creeper. Before he reached the ground he heard the cry of his new-born child, and begged to be allowed to go back to see him. But his entreaties were unavailing, and weeping bitterly, he alighted on the earth at TIKAN ORUM (a spot in the upper Baram district). Still his disobedience was not overcome; for, although he had been told to plant the sugar-cane and banana by merely throwing them on the ground, he planted them carefully in the soil; and to this day a tall coa.r.s.e gra.s.s (BRU) grows on the spot. Nevertheless some sugar-cane and banana plants grew up; but they were of an inferior quality, and such they have remained wherever they have spread in this world. LAFAANG died among his own people on earth, but the bright constellation that bears his name and shape still moves across the heavens, reminding men of his journey to the world above the sky and of the misfortunes he suffered there.[161]

The Story of USAI

The following myth, current under several forms among the Klemantans, accounts for a number of the geographical features of the Baram district, in which it was told us. The story was evoked from an old man of the Long Kiputs by a question as to his views about the nature of the stars. He explained that the stars are holes in the sky made by the roots of trees in the world above the sky projecting through the floor of that world. At one time, he explained, the sky was close to the earth, but one day USAI, a giant, when working sago with a wooden mallet accidentally struck his mallet against the sky; since which time the sky has been far up out of the reach of man. Our informant, warming up with the excitement of the recital, went on to give us the following history of USAI: --

USAI was the brother of the guardian of the shades of men. His wife desired to have a large prawn that lived in the Baram river; so USAI built a dam across the river at LUBOK SUAN (a spot where the river is about 250 yards in width) and baled out the water below it, seizing the crocodiles with his fingers and whisking them out on to the bank. While this operation was in progress, the dam gave way; and USAI'S wife was drowned in the sudden rush of water. In vain he sought for his wife, weeping bitterly. Disconsolately he waded down the river. At the mouth of the PELUTAN he wept anew, throwing aside the crocodiles as he explored the bed of the river. At LONG SALAI he found his wife's coat and wept again. At LONG LAMA he found his wife's waist-cloth and gave up hope, and at TAMALA he clucked like a hen, so great was his grief. Still he went on wading down the river. The water, which at LONG PLUSAN was only just above his ankles, reached his middle at the mouth of the TUTAU, and covered all his body at the place where the Tinjar (the largest tributary) flows into the Baram. At the mouth of the ADOI he wailed aloud, "ADOI, ADOI!" (a sorrowful cry in common use, nearly the equivalent of our Alas!). He began to s.h.i.+ver with cold, but at the mouth of the BAKONG he wept again. When he reached LUBOK KAJAMAN he was out of his depth (this is a part known to be very deep) and colder than ever; but he kept on, and presently the water reached only to his belly, and when he reached the sea it came only to his knees. (There is a shallow bar at the river mouth.) On seeing the boundless ocean, USAI gave up the search and strode down the coast to Miri, where he lived on charcoal and ginger. (The belief is widely held that the people of Miri, formerly ate charcoal in large quant.i.ties.) The people of Miri seemed to him like maggots; and they, taking him to be a great tree, climbed up on him. When he brushed them off, he killed ten men with each sweep of his hand. The Miri people set to work to hew down this great tree, and blood poured from USAI'S foot as they worked. Then USAI spoke to them, asking them what sort of creatures they might be, and said, "Listen to my words. I am about to die. My brains are sago, my liver is tobacco. Where my head falls there the people will have much knowledge, where my feet lie will be the ignorant ones." Then, his legs being cut through, he fell with a mighty crash, his head falling towards the sea, his feet pointing up river. ("This accounts for the fact that white men and Chinese know so many things, while the people of Borneo are ignorant" said our informant; but this was probably his own comment.) The Miris, of whom a thousand were killed by the fall of USAI, have beautiful hair, because his head fell in their district; but the other people have only such hair as grew on USAI'S limbs. The mosquitoes that existed in the time of USAI were as big as fowls, and their bites were terribly painful. The people hewed them into small pieces, so that now they are the smallest of the animals; but their bite is still painful.

The Iban Story of Simpang Impang

The following story, which is an old favourite among the Ibans (Sea Dayaks) of the Batang Lupar, will serve to ill.u.s.trate, with its many heterogeneous features, the myth-making faculty of this imitative and fun-loving people. It will be noticed that the story combines the characters of a creation-myth, an animal fable, and a fairy tale: --

Once upon a time some people were looking for edible vegetables in the jungle, when they came upon a huge python, which they took to be a log. Sitting upon it to cut up their vegetables, they by chance wounded it, and caused the python's blood to flow out. Recognising then the nature of their resting-place, the people cut up the python and began to cook its flesh. Then heavy rain began to fall, and it rained like anything for days and days, so that all the land was covered with water, and only the top of TIANG LAJU (the highest peak of the Batang Lupar district) stood out above the flood. All the people and animals were drowned except one woman, a dog, a rat, and a few other small animals, which climbed to the top of this mountain. The woman, seeking shelter from the rain, noticed that the dog seemed to have found a warm place beneath a creeper. The creeper was swaying in the wind and rubbing against a tree, and thus was warmed by the friction. The woman, taking the hint, rubbed the creeper hard on a piece of wood, and so for the first time produced fire. Having no husband the woman took the creeper for her mate, and soon afterwards gave birth to a son, who was but one-half of a human being, having one arm, one leg, one eye, and so on. This child, SIMPANG IMPANG, whose only companions were the animals, often complained bitterly to his mother of his incompleteness. One day SIMPANG IMPANG discovered some PADI grain which the rat had hidden in a hole. He spread it out to dry on a leaf, which he put on top of a stump. On this the rat demanded the PADI back; and when SIMPANG IMPANG refused it, he grew very angry, and swore that he and all his race would always retaliate by taking the PADI of men whenever they could get at it. While they were disputing, SELULAT ANTU RIBUT, the wind-spirit, came by and scattered the PADI grains far and wide in the jungle. SIMPANG IMBANG looked round in anger and astonishment, and could perceive nothing but the noise of the wind. So he set out with some of his companions to get back his corn from the wind-spirit, or know the reason why. After wandering for some days he came to a tree on which were many birds; they picked off its buds as fast as the tree could push them out. SIMPANG IMPANG asked the tree to tell him the way to the house of the wind-spirit; and the tree said, "Oh, yes, he came this way just now, and his house is far away over there. When you come to it, please tell him I am tired of putting out my leaves to have them bitten off by these rascal birds, and that I want him to come and end my miserable life by blowing me down."

SIMPANG IMPANG went on and came to a lake, which said, "Whither are you going, friend?" And when he answered that he was going to find the wind-spirit, the lake complained that its outlet to the river was blocked with a lump of gold, and told him to get the wind-spirit to blow away the obstruction. SIMPANG IMPANG promised to put in a word for the lake, and, pa.s.sing on, came to a cl.u.s.ter of sugar-canes and bananas. "Whither are you going, friend?" said they. "I'm going to the wind-spirit" he answered. "Oh! then, will you please ask him how it is we have no branches like other trees; we should like to have branches like them."[162] "Yes, I'll remember it," said SIMPANG IMPANG, and, pa.s.sing on, he soon came to the home of the wind-spirit. There he heard a great noise of wind blowing, and the wind-spirit said, "What do you want here, SIMPANG IMPANG." He answered angrily that he had come to demand the PADI that the wind-spirit had carried away. "We'll settle the dispute by diving" said the wind-spirit,[163] and he dived into the water; but being only a bubble, he very soon popped up to the surface. Then SIMPANG IMPANG called on his companion the fish to dive for him; and when the windspirit saw that he had no chance of coming out the winner in this ordeal, he said, "No, this is not fair, we'll settle the matter by jumping," and he leapt right over the house. SIMPANG IMPANG called on the swift as his subst.i.tute, and the swift, rising from the ground, jumped right out of sight. Still the wind-spirit would not give in. "We'll have another test; let's see who can go through this blow-pipe"; and he went whistling through. Then SIMPANG IMPANG did not know what to do, for none of his companions seemed able to help him. But he had forgotten the ant, until a little squeaky voice called out, "I can do it"; and forthwith the ant crawled through the blow-pipe. Still the wind-spirit would not give in, and SIMPANG IMPANG was very angry, and seizing his father, the fire-drill, he set the windspirit's house on fire. Then at last the wind-spirit called out that he would make compensation for the PADI he had taken away. "But," said he, "I haven't any gongs or other things to pay you, so I'll make you a whole man with two arms and two legs and two eyes." SIMPANG IMPANG accepted the bargain, and was overjoyed to find himself a whole man. Then he remembered the messages he had brought from the tree and the lake, and the wind-spirit promised to do as he was asked. And then SIMPANG IMPANG put to him the question of the bamboo and of the banana plant; and the wind-spirit said, "They have no branches because human beings are always offending against custom; they often utter the names of their father-in-law and mother-in-law, and sometimes they walk before them in going through the jungle; that is why the bamboo and the banana have no branches."

Kenyah Fable of the Mouse-deer and the Tortoise

Animal fables are current among all the peoples of Borneo, and are frequently repeated and listened to with much enjoyment; some individuals who acquire the reputation of being good story-tellers are frequently called upon to practise their art. Closely allied with this enjoyment of fables is the practice of describing incidents of social or tribal intercourse in fables, parables, or allegories, which are made to suit the occasions and to point the appropriate moral.

Once upon a time PLANDOK (the tiny mouse-deer) and KELAP (the water-tortoise) went out together to find fruit. They found a tree laden with ripe fruit close by a house. "I can't climb up that tree,"

said PLANDOK, "but I'll give you a leg up, and then you can get on to that branch." So he pushed up KELAP on to the lowermost branch. KELAP threw down all the fruit, but then didn't know how to get down, and called to PLANDOK for help. "Oh! get down anyway you like,"

said PLANDOK. "But I can't get down forwards and I can't get down backwards." "Then throw yourself down," said PLANDOK, and KELAP threw himself down and came to the ground with a great thud. The people in the house heard the sound and said," There's a durian falling." Then PLANDOK began to divide the fruit into heaps. "This is for me and that's for you," he kept calling out; and every time he put some more fruit to KELAP'S heap, he shouted louder than before. "h.e.l.lo,"

said the people in the house, "there's somebody dividing something,"

and they ran out to see what was going on. PLANDOK skipped away with his share of the fruit, and left KELAP to hide himself as best he could under the broad leaves of a Caladium plant. The people saw the tree stripped of its fruit, and KELAP'S tracks on the ground soon led to the discovery of his hidingplace. "Here's the thief,"

said the people, "let's put him in the fire." "Oh yes," said KELAP, "please put me in the fire; last time they put me in the fire they only half did the thing, and left one side quite untouched by the fire."[164] "0h! that won't do," said the people, "let's squeeze him in the sugar-cane press." "Oh yes, please squeeze me in the press,"

said KELAP, "last time they put me in the press they only squeezed one side of me."[165] "Then that won't do either," they cried, "let's throw him into the river." "Oh! don't throw me into the river," said KELAP, and began to weep. So they threw him into the river. KELAP swam out to the middle of the river and, putting up his head above the surface, called out, "That's alright, this is my home." At this the people saw that he had got the better of them, and determined to turn the tables by poisoning the water with TUBA.[166] The bat overheard what they were saying, and at once flew off to KELAP, and advised him to get out of the river. "No, I shall stay here," said KELAP, "this is the safest place for me," and he went and stood quite still among the big stones in the shallow water.

Presently the people began to beat out the TUBA root on the stones, and one man, taking KELAP'S back for a stone, began to beat his TUBA upon it. Then KELAP made his back sink lower little by little, so that the water began to cover it. "h.e.l.lo!" said the man, "the water's rising, it's no good trying to poison the river when the water's rising." So they went home.

The Kenyah Story of the BELIRA Fish

The BELIRA is a fish that has an extraordinary number of bones. The following story accounts for this exceptional number of bones and, in conjunction with the foregoing story, explains why Kenyahs, when proposing to poison the river with TUBA in order to take the fish, speak of their intentions only in parables.

The fish began to complain that they were so often caught by men who poisoned the river. So they decided they must have a DAYONG who could make rain for them[167] so as to prevent the poisoning of the water. They asked one fish after another to become a DAYONG; but all refused until they came to the BELIRA, who said he would do his best to become a DAYONG and to make rain for them, if each of the other fishes would give him a bone. They accepted the bargain and each gave him a bone, and that is why the BELIRA has so many bones.

The Story of the Stupid Boy