The Pagan Tribes of Borneo Part 7

Padan.

(19) Tama Bulan's Door.

Laki Ludop = BUNGAN (see Door 18).

Tama Bulan w.a.n.g = (1st wife) PENG = (2nd wife) PAYAH WAN (Uma Poh Kayan).

BULAN = Luja (Uma Plian Kayan).

Balari and Livang (1st cousins of Tama Bulan, adopted by him as sons).

OBONG = Wan (son of Aban Tingan her 1st cousin).

LEVAN.

Linjau.

CHAPTER 6

Agriculture

For all the peoples of the interior of Borneo, the Punans and Malanaus excepted, the rice grown by themselves is the princ.i.p.al food-stuff. Throughout the year, except during the few weeks when the jungle fruit is most abundant, rice forms the bulk of every meal. In years of bad harvests, when the supply is deficient, the place of rice has to be filled as well as may be with wild sago, cultivated maize, tapioca, and sweet potatoes. All these are used, and the last three, as well as pumpkins, bananas, cuc.u.mbers, millet, pineapples, chilis, are regularly grown in small quant.i.ties by most of the peoples. But all these together are regarded as making but a poor subst.i.tute for rice. The cultivator has to contend with many difficulties, for in the moist hot climate weeds grow apace, and the fields, being closely surrounded by virgin forest, are liable to the attacks of pests of many kinds. Hence the processes by which the annual crop of PADI is obtained demand the best efforts and care of all the people of each village. The plough is unknown save to the Dusuns, a branch of the Murut people in North Borneo, who have learnt its use from Chinese immigrants. The Kalabits and some of the coastwise Klemantans who live in alluvial areas have learnt, probably through intercourse with the Philippine Islanders or the inhabitants of Indo-China, to prepare the land for the PADI seed by leading buffaloes to and fro across it while it lies covered with water. The Kalabits lead the water into their fields from the streams descending from the hills.

With these exceptions the preparation of the land is everywhere very crude, consisting in the felling of the timber and undergrowth, and in burning it as completely as possible, so that its ashes enrich the soil. After a single crop has been grown and gathered on land so cleared, the weeds grow up very thickly, and there is, of course, in the following year no possibility of repeating the dressing of wood ashes in the same way. Hence it is the universal practice to allow the land to lie fallow for at least two years, after a single crop has been raised, while crops are raised from other lands. During the fallow period the jungle grows up so rapidly and thickly that by the third year the weeds have almost died out, choked by the larger growths. The same land is then prepared again by felling the young jungle and burning it as before, and a crop is again raised from it. When a piece of land has been prepared and cropped in this way some three or four times, at intervals of two, three, or four years, the crop obtainable from it is so inferior in quant.i.ty that the people usually undertake the severe labour of felling and burning a patch of virgin forest, rather than continue to make use of the old areas. In this way a large village uses up in the course of some twelve or fifteen years all the land suitable for cultivation within a convenient distance, I.E. within a radius of some three miles. When this state of affairs results, the, village is moved to a new site, chosen chiefly with an eye to the abundance of land suitable for the cultivation of the PADI crop. After ten or more years the villagers will return, and the house or houses will be reconstructed on the old site or one adjacent to it, if no circ.u.mstances arise to tempt them to migrate to a more distant country, and if the course of their life on the old site has run smoothly, without misfortunes such as much sickness, conflagrations, or serious attacks by other villages. After this interval the land is regarded as being almost as good as the virgin forest land, and has the advantage that the jungle on it can be more easily felled. But since no crop equals that obtainable from virgin soil, it is customary to include at least a small area of it in the operations of each year.

Each family cultivates its own patch of land, selecting it by arrangement with other families, and works as large an area as the strength and number of the roomhold permits. A hillside sloping down to the bank of a river or navigable stream is considered the choicest area for cultivation, partly because of the efficient drainage, partly because the felling is easier on the slope, and because the stream affords easy access to the field.

When an area has been chosen, the men of the roomhold first cut down the undergrowth of a V-shaped area, whose apex points up the hill, and whose base lies on the river bank. This done, they call in the help of other men of the house, usually relatives who are engaged in preparing adjacent areas, and all set to work to fell the large trees. In the clearing of virgin forest, when very large trees, many of which have at their bases immense b.u.t.tresses, have to be felled, a platform of light poles is built around each of these giants to the height of about 15 feet. Two men standing upon this rude platform on opposite sides of the stem attack it with their small springy-hafted axes (Fig. 11) above the level of the b.u.t.tresses (Pl. 55). One man cuts a deep notch on the side facing up the hill, the other cuts a similar notch about a foot lower down on the opposite side, each cutting almost to the centre of the stem. This operation is accomplished in a surprisingly short time, perhaps thirty minutes in the case of a stem two to three feet in diameter. When all the large trees within the V-shaped area have been cut in this way, all the workers and any women, children, or dogs who may be present are called out of the patch, and one or two big trees, carefully selected to form the apex of the phalanx, are then cut so as to fall down the hill.[45] In their fall these giants throw down the trees standing immediately below them on the hillside; these, falling in turn against their neighbours, bring them down. And so, like an avalanche of widening sweep, the huge disturbance propagates itself with a thunderous roar and increasing momentum downwards over the whole of the prepared area; while puny man looks on at the awful work of his hand and brain not unmoved, but dancing and shouting in wild triumphant delight.

The fallen timber must now lie some weeks before it can be burnt. This period is mainly devoted to making and repairing the implements to be used in cultivating, harvesting, and storing the crop, and also in sowing at the earliest possible moment small patches of early or rapidly growing PADI together with a little maize, sugar-cane, some Sweet potatoes, and tapioca. The patches thus sown generally lie adjacent to one another. If the weather is fine, the fallen timber becomes dry enough to burn well after one month. If much rain falls it is necessary to wait longer in the hope of drier weather. Choosing a windy day, they set fire to all the adjacent patches after shouting out warnings to all persons in the fields. While the burning goes on, the men "whistle for the wind," or rather blow for it, rattling their tongues in their mouths. Some of the older men make lengthy orations shouted into the air, adjuring the wind to blow strongly and so fan the fire. The fire, if successful, burns furiously for a few hours and then smoulders for some days, after which little of the timber remains but ashes and the charred stumps of the bigger trees. If the burning is very incomplete, it is necessary to make stacks of the lighter timbers that remain, and to fire these again. As soon as the ashes are cool, sowing begins. Men and women work together; the men go in front making holes with wooden dibbles about six inches apart; the women follow, carrying hung round the neck small baskets of PADI seed (Fig. 12), which they throw into the holes, three or four seeds to each hole. No care is taken to fill in the holes with earth. By this time the relatively dry season, which lasts only some two months, is at an end, and copious rains cause the seed to shoot above the ground a few days after the sowing. Several varieties of PADI are in common use, some more suitable for the hillsides, some for the marshy lands. On any one patch three or four kinds are usually sown according to the elevation and slope of the part of the area. Since the rates of growth of the several kinds are different, the sowings are so timed that the whole area ripens as nearly as possible at the same moment, in order that the birds and other pests may not have the opportunity of turning their whole force upon the several parts in turn. The men now build on each patch a small hut, which is occupied by most of the able-bodied members of the roomhold until harvest is completed, some fourteen to twenty weeks after the sowing of the PADI, according to the variety of grain sown. They erect contrivances for scaring away the birds; they stick bamboos about eight feet in length upright in the ground every 20 to 30 yards. Between the upper ends of these, rattans are tied, connecting together all the bamboos on each area of about one acre. The field of one roomhold is generally about four acres in extent; there will thus be four groups of bamboos, each of which can be agitated by pulling on a single rattan. From each such group a rattan pa.s.ses to the hut, and some person, generally a woman or child, is told off to tug at these rattans in turn at short intervals. Upon the rattans between the bamboos are hung various articles calculated to make a noise or to flap to and fro when the system is set in motion. Sometimes the rattan by which the system of poles is set in movement is tied to the upper end of a tall sapling, one end of which is thrust deeply into the mud of the floor of the river. The current then keeps the sapling and with it the system of bamboos swaying and jerking to and fro. The Kayans admit that they have learnt this last "dodge" from the Klemantans. The watcher remains in the hut all day long, while his companions are at work in the field; he varies the monotony of his task by shouting and beating with a pair of mallets on a hollow wooden cylinder. The watcher is relieved from time to time, but the watch is maintained continuously day and night from the time that the corn is about two feet above the ground until it is all gathered in. In this way they strive with partial success to keep off the wild pigs, monkeys, deer, and, as the corn ripens, the rice-sparrow (MUNIA).

When the hut and the pest-scaring system have been erected, the men proceed to provide further protection against wild pig and deer by running a rude fence round a number of closely adjacent patches of growing corn. The fence, some three to four feet high, is made by las.h.i.+ng to poles thrust vertically into the ground and to convenient trees and stumps, bamboos or saplings as horizontal bars, five or six in vertical row. When this is completed the men take no further part until the harvest, except perhaps to lend a hand occasionally with the weeding. This is the time generally chosen by them for long excursions into the jungle in search of rattans, rubber, camphor, and for warlike expeditions or the paying of distant visits.

It is the duty of the women to prevent the PADI being choked by weeds. The women of each room will go over each patch completely at least twice, at an interval of about one month, hoeing down the weeds with a short-handled hoe; the hoe consists of a flat blade projecting at right angles from the iron haft (Fig. 13). The latter is bent downwards at a right angle just above the blade, in a plane perpendicular to that of the blade, and its other end is prolonged by a short wooden handle, into the end of which it is thrust. The woman stoops to the work, hoeing carefully round each PADI plant, by holding the hoe in the right hand and striking the blade downwards and towards her toes with a dragging action. In working over the patch in this careful fas.h.i.+on some three weeks are consumed. In the intervals the women gather the small crops of early PADI, pumpkin, cuc.u.mbers, and so forth, spending several weeks together on the farm, sleeping in the hut. In a good season this is the happiest time of the year; both men and women take the keenest interest and pleasure in the growth of the crop.

During the time when the grain is formed but not yet ripe, the people live upon the green corn, which they prepare by gathering the heads and beating them flat. These are not cooked, but merely dried in the sun, and though they need much mastication they are considered a delicacy.

During the time of the ripening of the corn a spirit of gaiety and joyful antic.i.p.ation prevails. It is a favourite time for courts.h.i.+p, and many marriages are arranged.

The harvest is the most important event of the year. Men, women, and children, all take part. The rice-sparrows congregate in thousands as the grain begins to ripen, and the noisy efforts of the people fail to keep them at a distance. Therefore the people walk through the crop gathering all ripe ears. The operation is performed with a small rude knife-blade mounted in a wooden handle along its whole length (Figs. 14, 15). This is held in the hollow of the right hand, the ends of a short cross bar projecting between the first and second fingers and between thumb and first finger. The thumb seizes and presses the head of each blade of corn against the edge of the knife. The cars thus cropped are thrown into a basket slung round the neck. As soon as a large basket has been filled by the reapers, its contents are spread out on mats on a platform before the hut. After an exposure of two or three days, the grain is separated from the ears by stamping upon them with bare feet. The separated grain pa.s.ses through the meshes of the coa.r.s.e mat on to a finer mat beneath. The grain is then further dried by exposure to the sun. When the whole crop has been gathered, threshed, and dried in this way, it is transported in the large shoulder baskets amid much rejoicing and merry-making to the PADI barns adjoining the house, and the harvest festival begins.

The elaborate operations on the BADI FARM that we have described might seem to a materialist to be sufficient to secure a good harvest; but this is not the view taken by the Kayans, or any other of the cultivators of Borneo. In their opinion all these material labours would be of little avail if not supplemented at every stage by the minute observance of a variety of rites. The PADI has life or soul, or vitality, and is subject to sickness and to many vaguely conceived influences, both good and bad.

Determination of the Seasons

The determination of the time for sowing the seed is a matter of so great importance that in each village this duty is entrusted to a man who makes it his profession to observe the signs of the seasons. This work is so exacting that he is not expected to cultivate a crop of PADI for himself and family, but is furnished with all the PADI he needs by contributions from all the other members of the village.

It is essential to determine the approach of the short dry season, in order that in the course of it the timber may be felled and burned. In Borneo, lying as it does upon the equator, the revolution of the year is marked by no very striking changes of weather, temperature, or of vegetation. In fact, the only constant and striking evidences of the pa.s.sage of the months are the alternations of the north-east and the south-west monsoons. The former blows from October to March, the latter from April to September, the transitions being marked by variable winds. The relatively dry season sets in with the south-west monsoon, and lasts about two months; but in some years the rainfall during this season is hardly less abundant than during the rest of the year.

The "clerk of the weather" (he has no official t.i.tle, though the great importance of his function secures him general respect) has no knowledge of the number of days in the year, and does not count their pa.s.sage. He is aware that the lunar month has twenty-eight days, but he knows that the dry season does not recur after any given number of completed months, and therefore keeps no record of the lunar months. He relies almost entirely upon observation of the slight changes of the sun's alt.i.tude. His observations are made by the help of an instrument closely resembling the ancient Greek gnomon, known as TUKAR DO or ASO DO (Pl. 60).

A straight cylindrical pole of hardwood is fixed vertically in the ground; it is carefully adjusted with the aid of plumb lines, and the possibility of its sinking deeper into the earth is prevented by pa.s.sing its lower end through a hole in a board laid horizontally on the ground, its surface flush with the surface of the ground which is carefully smoothed. The pole is provided with a shoulder which rests upon this board. The upper end of the pole is generally carved in the form of a human figure. The carving may be very elaborate, or the figure may be indicated only by a few notches. The length of the pole from the collar to its upper extremity is made equal to the span from tip to tip of outstretched arms of its maker, plus the length of his span from tip of the thumb to that of the first finger. This pole (ASO DO) stands on a cleared s.p.a.ce before or behind the house, and is surrounded by a strong fence; the area within the fence, some three or four yards in diameter, being made as level and smooth as possible. The clerk of the weather has a neatly worked flat stick, on which lengths are marked off by notches; these lengths are measured by laying the stick along the radial side of the left arm, the b.u.t.t end against the anterior fold of the armpit. A notch is then cut at each of the following positions: one notch about one inch from the b.u.t.t end, a second opposite the middle of the upper arm, one opposite the elbow, one opposite the bend of the wrist, one at the first interphalangeal joint, one at the finger-tip. The other side of the rod bears a larger number of notches, of which the most distal marks the greatest length of the mid-day shadow, the next one the length of the mid-day shadow three days after it has begun to shorten, the next the length of the shadow after three more days'

shortening, and so on. The mid-day shadow is, of course, the minimal length reached in the course of the day, and the marks denoting the changes in length of the shadow are arrived at, purely empirically, by marking off the length of the mid-day shadow every three days.

The clerk of the weather measures the shadow of the pole at mid-day whenever the sun is unclouded. As the shadow grows shorter after reaching its maximal length, he observes it with special care, and announces to the village that the time for preparing the land is near at hand. When the shadow reaches the notch made opposite the middle of the arm, the best time for sowing the grain is considered to have arrived; the land is therefore cleared, and made ready before this time arrives. Sowing at times when the shadow reaches other notches is held to involve various disadvantages, such as liability to more than the usual number of pests -- monkeys, insects, rats, or sparrows. In the case of each successful harvest, the date of the sowing is recorded by driving a peg of ironwood into the ground at the point denoting the length of the mid-day shadow at that date. The weather prophet has other marks and notches whose meaning is known only to himself; his procedures are surrounded with mystery and kept something of a secret, even from the chief as well as from all the rest of the village, and his advice is always followed.

The method of observing the sun described above is universal among the Kenyahs, but some of the Kayans practise a different method. A hole is made in the roof of the weather-prophet's chamber in the long-house, and the alt.i.tude of the mid-day sun and its direction, north or south of the meridian, are observed by measuring along a plank fixed on the floor the distance of the patch of sunlight (falling through the hole on to the plank) from the point vertically below the hole. The horizontal position of the plank is secured by placing upon it smooth spherical stones and noting any inclination to roll. The sunbeam which enters this hole is called KLEPUT TOH (=the blow-pipe of the spirit).

Some of the Klemantans practise a third method to determine when the time for sowing is at hand, using a bamboo some feet in length which bears a mark at a level which is empirically determined. The bamboo is filled with water while in the vertical position. It is then tilted till it points towards a certain star, when of course some water escapes. After it has been restored to the vertical, the level of the surface of the remaining water is noted. The coincidence of this level with the mark mentioned above indicates that the time for sowing is come.

The Sea Dayaks are guided by the observation of the position of the Pleiades.

The appropriate season having been determined, it is necessary to secure good omens before the preparation of the land can be begun. A pig and a fowl having been sacrificed in the usual way, and their blood sprinkled upon the wooden figures before the house,[46] two men are sent out in a boat, and where they first see a spider-hunter they land on the bank and go through the customary procedures. The calls and appearances of various birds and of the MUNTJAC are of chief importance. Some of these are good, some bad in various degrees. When a preponderance of favourable omens has been observed, the men return to the house to announce their success. They will wait two whole days if necessary to secure a favourable result. During their absence a strict MALAN or LALI (tabu) lies upon the house; no stranger may enter it, and the people sit quietly in the house performing only the most necessary tasks. The announcement of the nature of the omens observed is made to the chief in the presence of a deeply interested throng of both s.e.xes. If the omens observed are considered to be bad, or of doubtful import, the men go out for a second period; but if they are favourable, the women of each room perform the private rites over their stores of seed PADI, which are kept in their rooms. After the pros and cons have been fully discussed, the chief names the day for the beginning of the clearing operations.

At the beginning of the sowing the house is again subject to MALAN for one day. During the growth of the PADI various charms and superst.i.tious practices are brought into use to promote its growth and health, and to keep the pests from it. The PADI charms are a miscellaneous collection or bundle of small articles, such as curious pebbles and bits of wood, pigs' tusks of unusual size or shape, beads, feathers, crystals of quartz. Kayans as a rule object to pebbles and stones as charms. Such charms are generally acquired in the first instance through indications afforded by dreams, and are handed down from mother to daughter. Such charms contained in a basket are usually kept in a PADI barn, from which they are taken to the field by the woman and waved over it, usually with a live fowl in the hand, while she addresses the PADI seed in some such terms as the following: "May you have a good stem and a good top, let all parts of you grow in harmony, etc. etc." Then she rapidly repeats a long customary formula of exhortation to the pests, saying, "O rats, run away down river, don't trouble us; O sparrows and noxious insects, go feed on the PADI of the people down river." If the pests are very persistent, the woman may kill a fowl and scatter its blood over the growing PADI, while she charges the pests to disappear, and calls upon LAKI IVONG (the G.o.d of harvests) to drive them out.

Women alone will gather the first ears of the crop. If they encounter on their way to the fields any one of the following creatures, they must at once return home, and stay there a day and a night, on pain of illness or early death: certain snakes, spiders, centipedes, millipedes, and birds of two species, JERUIT and BUBUT (a cuckoo). Or again, if the shoulder straps of their large baskets should break on the way, if a stump should fall against them, or the note of the spider-hunter be heard, or if a woman strikes her foot by accident against any object, the party must return as before.

It will be clear from the foregoing account that the women play the princ.i.p.al part in the rites and actual operations of the PADI culture; the men only being called in to clear the ground and to a.s.sist in some of the later stages. The women select and keep the seed grain, and they are the repositories of most of the lore connected with it. It seems to be felt that they have a natural affinity to the fruitful grain, which they speak of as becoming pregnant. Women sometimes sleep out in the PADI fields while the crop is growing, probably for the purpose of increasing their own fertility or that of the PADI; but they are very reticent on this matter.

The Harvest Festival

When the crop is all gathered in, the house is MALAN to all outsiders for some ten days, during which the grain is transported from the fields to the village and stored in the PADI barns. When this process is completed or well advanced, the festival begins with the preparation of the seed grain for the following season. Some of the best of the new grain is carefully selected by the women of each room, enough for the sowing of the next season. This is mixed with a small quant.i.ty of the seed grain of the foregoing seasons which has been carefully preserved for this purpose in a special basket. The basket contains grains of PADI from good harvests of many previous years. This is supposed to have been done from the earliest time of PADI planting, so that the basket contains some of the original stock of seed, or at least the virtue of it leavening the whole. This basket is never emptied, but a pinch of the old PADI is mixed in with the new, and then a handful of the mixture added to the old stock. The idea here seems to be that the old grain, preserving continuity generation after generation with the original seed PADI of mythical origin,[47] ensures the presence in the grain of the soul or spirit or vital principle of PADI. While mixing the old with the new seed grain, the woman calls on the soul of the PADI to cause the seed to be fruitful and to grow vigorously, and to favour her own fertility. For the whole festival is a celebration or cult of the principle of fertility and vitality -- that of the women no less than that of the PADI.[48]

The women who have been delivered of children during the past year will make a number of toys, consisting of plaited work, in the shapes of various animals filled with boiled rice (Fig. 16). These they throw to the children of the house, who scramble for them in the gallery. This seems to be of the nature of a thank-offering.

At this time also another curious custom is observed. Four water beetles, of the kind that skates on the surface of the still water, are caught on the river and placed on water in a large gong. Some old man specially wise in this matter watches the beetles, calling to them to direct their movements. The people crowd round deeply interested, while the old man interprets the movements of the beetles as forecasting good or ill luck with the crops of the following season, and invokes the good-will of Laki Ivong. Laki Ivong is asked to bring the soul of the PADI to their homes. Juice from a sugarcane is poured upon the water, and the women drink the water, while the beetles are carefully returned to the river. The beetles carry the messages to Laki Ivong.

When these observances have been duly honoured, there begins a scene of boisterous fun. The women make pads of the boiled sticky new rice, and cover it with soot from their cooking vessels. With these they approach the men and dab the pads upon their faces and bodies, leaving sooty marks that are not easily removed. The men thus challenged give chase, and attempt to get possession of the rice pads and to return the polite attention. For a short s.p.a.ce of time a certain license prevails among the young people; and irregularities, even on the part of married people, which would be gravely reprobated at all other times, are looked upon very much less seriously. It is, in fact, the annual carnival. Each roomhold has prepared a stock of BURAK from the new rice, and this now circulates freely among both men and women, and large meals of rice and pork are usually eaten. All join in dancing, some of the women dressed like men, some carrying PADI-pestles; at one moment all form a long line marching up and down the gallery in step to the strains of the KELURI; some young men dance in realistic imitation of monkeys (DOK), or hornbills, or other animals, singly or in couples. Others mimic the peculiarities of their acquaintances. The women also dance together in a long line, each resting her hands on the shoulders of the one going before her, and all keeping time to the music of the KELURIES as they dance up and down the long gallery. All this is kept up with good humour the whole day long. In the evening more BURAK is drunk and songs are sung, the women mingling with the men, instead of remaining in their rooms as on other festive occasions. Before midnight a good many of the men are more or less intoxicated, some deeply so; but most are able to find their way to bed about midnight, and few or none become offensive or quarrelsome, even though the men indulge in wrestling and rough horseplay with one another. After an exceptionally good harvest the boisterous merry-making is renewed on a second or even a third day.

The harvest festival is the time at which dancing is most practised. The dances fall into two chief cla.s.ses, namely, solo dances and those in which many persons take part. Most of the solo dances take the form of comic imitations of the movements of animals, especially the big macaque monkey (DOK), the hornbill, and big fish. These dances .seem to have no connection with magic or religion, but to be purely aesthetic entertainments. The animals that are regarded with most awe are never mimicked in this way. There are at least four distinct group dances popular among the Kayans. Both men and women take part, the women often dressing themselves as men for the occasion (Pl. 61). The movements and evolutions are very simple. The LUPA resembles the dance on return from war described in Chap. X. In the KAYO, a similar dance, the dancers are led by a woman holding one of the dried heads which is taken down for the purpose; the women, dressed in war-coats, pretending to take the head from an enemy. The LAKEKUT Is a musical drill in which the dancers stamp on the planks of the floor in time to the music. The LUPAK is a kind of slow polka. In none of these do the dancers fall into couples. A fifth dance, the dance of the departure of the spirit, is a dramatic representation by three persons of the death of one of them, and of his restoration to life by means of the water of life (this is supposed to be brought from the country which is traversed on the journey to the land of shades). This dance is sometimes given with so much dramatic effect as to move the onlookers to tears.

CHAPTER 7

The Daily Life of a Kayan Long House

A little before dawn the c.o.c.ks roosting beneath the house awaken the household by their crowing and the flapping of their wings. The pigs begin to grunt and squeal, and the dogs begin to trot to and fro in the gallery. Before the first streaks of daylight appear, the women light the fires in the private rooms or blow up the smouldering embers; then most of them descend from the house, each carrying in a basket slung on her back several bamboo water-vessels to be filled from the river. Many of them bathe at this time in the shallow water beside the bank, while the toilet of others consists in das.h.i.+ng water over their faces, was.h.i.+ng their mouths with water, and rubbing their teeth with the forefinger. Returning to the house with their loads of water (Pl. 63), they boil rice for the household breakfasts and for the dinner of those who are to spend the day in the PADI field or the jungle. The boiled rice intended for the latter use is made up in packets wrapped in green leaves, each containing sufficient for a meal for one person. About half-past six, when the daylight is fully come, the pigs expectant of their meal are clamouring loudly for it. The women descend to them by ladders leading from the private rooms, and each gives to the pigs of her household the leavings of the meals of the previous day. About the same time the men begin to bestir themselves sluggishly; some descend to bathe, while others smoke the f.a.g ends of the cigarettes that were unfinished when they fell asleep. Then the men breakfast in their rooms, and not until they are satisfied do the women and children sit down to their meal. During all this time the chronically hungry dogs, attracted by the odours of food, make persistent efforts to get into their owner's rooms. Success in this manoeuvre is almostly always followed by their sudden and noisy reappearance in the gallery, caused by a smart blow with a stick. In the busy farming season parties of men, women, and children will set off in boats for the PADI fields taking their breakfasts with them.

After breakfast the men disperse to their various tasks. During some three or four months of the year all able-bodied persons repair daily to the PADI fields, but during the rest of the year their employments are more varied. The old women and invalids remain all day long in the rooms; the old men lounge all day in the gallery, smoking many home-made cigarettes, and perhaps doing a bit of carving or other light work and keeping an eye on the children. The young children play in and out and about the house, chasing the animals, and dabbling among the boats moored at the bank.

A few of the able-bodied men employ themselves in or about the house, making boats, forging swords, spear-heads, iron hoes, and axes, repairing weapons or implements. Others go in small parties to the jungle to hunt deer and pig, or to gather jungle produce -- fruits, rubber, rattans, or bamboos -- or spend the day in fis.h.i.+ng in the river. During the months of December and January the jungle fruits -- the durian, rambutan, mangosteen, lansat, mango, and numerous small sour fruits (Pl. 65) -- are much more abundant than at other times; and during these months all other work is neglected, while the people devote themselves to gathering the fruit which forms for a time almost their only food.

Except during the busy PADI season the work of the women is wholly within the house. The heaviest part of their household labour is the preparation of the rice. After breakfast they proceed to spread out PADI on mats on the open platforms adjoining the gallery. While the PADI is being dried by the exposure to sun and wind on these platforms, it must be protected from the domestic fowls by a guardian who, sitting in the gallery, drives them away by means of a long bamboo slung by a cord above the platform. Others fill the time between breakfast and the noonday dinner by bathing themselves and the children in the river, making and repairing clothing, mats, and baskets, fetching more water, cleaning the rooms and preparing dinner. This meal consists of boiled rice with perhaps a piece of fish, pork, or fowl, and, like breakfast and supper, is eaten in the private rooms.