The second trip to Sembulo had to be postponed until the return of the controleur of Sampit from an extended tour, when the steam-launch Selatan would again be placed at my service. During the weeks of waiting I made a trip to Kuala Kapuas, northwest of Bandjermasin. The Kapuas River is broad here, I should say at least 600 metres; if there is any wind one cannot cross because the prahus are all made of iron-wood and sink easily, owing to the fact that they are heavy and do not accommodate themselves to the waves. A German missionary and family had been here ten years. The children looked a little pale but strong, and had never had malaria nor children's diseases.

I soon became convinced that there was little here for me to learn. The Dayaks have been too long exposed to Malay and European influences, though still able to make splendid mats, for which this place is well known. Malay ascendancy is strong on the lower courses of the two great rivers that meet here, on the Kapuas as far as Djangkang, on the Kahayan as far as Pahandut. I carried away mud for future zoological examination from the bottom of a pool, ten minutes walk from the shore. There are always small fish in it, and three or four times a year it is flooded. In dry seasons, although not every year, the water of the sea reaches as far as Mandumei.

In Bandjermasin my attention was drawn to an interesting breed of stump-tailed dogs which belonged to Mr. B. Brouers. The mother is a white terrier which has but half a tail, as if cut off. When she had pups, two had stump tails, two had long ones, and one had none; her sister has no tail. Though the fathers are the ordinary yellowish Dayak dogs with long tails, the breed apparently has taken nothing or next to nothing from them. They are all white, sometimes with hardly noticeable spots of yellow.

Nobody who has travelled in Borneo can have failed to notice the great number of short-tailed cats. In Bandjermasin those with long tails are very rare, and among Malays and Dayaks I do not remember ever having seen them. They are either stub-tailed or they have a ball at the end of a tail that is usually twisted and exceptionally short. These cats are small and extremely tame, and can hardly be pushed away with a kick, because they have always been used to having their own way in the house. They are more resourceful and enterprising than the ordinary domestic cat, using their claws to an almost incredible extent in climbing down perpendicular wooden walls, or in running under the roof on rafters chasing mice. I have twice photographed such cats, a liberty which they resented by striking viciously at the man who held them and growling all the time. Their accustomed food is rice and dried fish.

The steamship Janssens had recently reduced its already infrequent sailings for Singapore, which caused some delay, but finally, toward the end of March, I embarked for Sampit. I was glad to see the controleur, who came down to the pier, for the rare occasions when steamers call here are almost festive events, and arrangements were at once made for my journey to Sembulo. At Pembuang we took on board the native kapala of the district, who was to accompany me; he also brought an attendant, a cook, and a policeman, all natives. Twelve hours later, when we arrived at the kampong Sembulo, the kapala who came on board the Selatan informed us that no Dayaks were there. As the lake was low and the water continued to fall it was impossible to proceed to Bangkal, the other kampong, or to remain here more than a few days. Therefore, at my request the native authorities agreed to have the Bangkal Dayaks congregate here, the kapala himself undertaking to bring them.

The population of the kampong Sembulo, formerly called Pulau Tombak, at the present time is Malay, comprising more than two hundred full-grown men, nearly all recent arrivals from Bandjermasin, Sampit, Pembuang, and other places. Very little rice is planted because the soil is sandy and unsuited to cultivation, therefore the inhabitants confine their activities mainly to rubber gathering. At that time about a hundred men were busy in the jungle on the opposite side, gathering white rubber, which is plentiful in the surrounding country. They cross the lake in their small prahus, pole them up the streams, and remain perhaps three months in the utan working under adverse conditions. When engaged in their pursuit they must always stand in water, which covers the ground and is usually shallow but at times reaches to the armpit.

Four weeks previously an epidemic of beri-beri had started with a mortality of one or two every day. When attacked by the disease they return to the kampong but only few recover, most of them dying from one or the other of the two forms of beri-beri. Nevertheless, the remainder continue the work undismayed - "business going on as usual." In the tropics life and death meet on friendly terms. "That is a sad phase of this country," said a Briton to me in India; "you shake hands with a man to-day and attend his funeral to-morrow."

At its deepest part the lake measures about seven metres. From May to August, when the Pembuang River is small and the lake is low, the depth is reduced to a metre. People then must walk far out to get water. Every afternoon we had gales accompanied by heavy rain from the northeast, although once it came from the southwest, and the Selatan had to put out another anchor. I was told that similar storms are usual every afternoon at that season (April), during which prahus do not venture out; apparently they also occur around Sampit and arc followed by calm nights.

Eighteen Dayaks were brought here from Bangkal. Of these, nine were Tamoan, the tribe of the region, eight Katingan, and one Teroian (or Balok) from Upper Pembuang. They were measured, photographed, and interviewed. One man looked astonishingly like a Japanese. The name of the tribe, Tamoan, also pronounced Samoan, means to wash. The tatu marks are the same as those of the Katingans. At present these natives have only six kampongs, three of them above Sampit. Cultivating rice was very difficult, they complained, on account of the poor soil and wet weather. The lake has few fish and they cannot be caught except when the water is low. There are no large serpents here, and neither snakes, dogs, nor crocodiles are eaten; but the rusa is accepted as food. Fruits, as the durian and langsat, are rather scarce.

Fire is made by twirling, and these natives use the sumpitan. They know how to make tuak, crushing the rice, boiling it, and then pouring it into a gutshi until the vessel is half full, the remaining space being filled with water. In three days the product may be drunk, but sometimes it is allowed to stand a month, which makes it much stronger. If there is no tuak there can be no dancing, they said. Many remarked upon the expense of obtaining a wife, the cost sometimes amounting to several hundred florins, all of which must be earned by gathering rubber. The tiwah feast is observed, but as to legends there are none, and their language and customs are disappearing.

These Tamoans are disintegrating chiefly on account of the ravages of cholera. About forty years previously an epidemic nearly extinguished Bangkal, and there was another in 1914. The result is that the population has changed, people from other kampongs, at times from other tribes, taking the places of the dead. At the kampong Sembulo there appear to be no Tamoans remaining, the Malays having easily superseded them.

Although my journey to the lake yielded no evidence to substantiate the legend connected with it, because I found no Dayaks left "to tell the tale," still, satisfaction is derived even from a negative result. Having accomplished what was possible I returned to Sampit, arriving almost at the same time a sailing ship came in from Madura, the island close to northeastern Java. It was of the usual solid type, painted white, red, and green, and loaded with obi, a root resembling sweet potatoes, which on the fourth day had all been sold at retail. A cargo of terasi, the well-known spicy relish made from crawfish and a great favourite with Malays and Javanese, was then taken on board.

In the small prison of Sampit, which is built of iron-wood, the mortality from beri-beri among the inmates was appalling. Nine men, implicated in the murder of two Chinese traders, in the course of eight months while the case was being tried, all died except a Chinaman who was taken to Bandjermasin. I understood a new prison was about to be erected. It seems improbable that ironwood has any connection with this disorder, but Mr. Berger, manager of the nearby rubber plantation, told me the following facts, which may be worth recording: Six of his coolies slept in a room with ironwood floor, and after a while their legs became swollen in the manner which indicates beri-beri. He moved them to another room, gave them katjang idju, the popular vegetable food, and they soon recovered. He then replaced the ironwood floor with other material, and after that nobody who slept in the room was affected in a similar way.

I met in Sampit three Dayaks from the upper country of the Katingan on whom the operation of incision had been performed. According to reliable reports this custom extends over a wide area of the inland, from the upper regions of the Kapuas, Kahayan, and Barito Rivers in the east, stretching westward as far as and including the tribes of the Kotawaringin. Also, in the Western Division on the Upper Kapuas and Melawi Rivers, the same usage obtains. In Bandjermasin prominent Mohammedans, one of them a Malay Hadji, told me that the Malays also practise incision instead of circumcision. The Malays, moreover, perform an operation on small girls, which the Dayaks do not.

The controleur invited me to take part in a banquet which he gave to celebrate the completion of a road. There were present Malay officials, also Chinamen, and one Japanese. The latter, who arrived at Sampit one and a half years before with forty florins, had since increased his capital to a thousand through the sale of medicines to natives whom he reached by going up the rivers. We were seated at three tables, twenty-eight guests. The natives were given viands in addition to the menu provided, because they must have rice. Their women had helped to cook - no small undertaking for so many in an out-of-the-way place like Sampit. It was an excellent dinner; such tender, well-prepared beef I had not enjoyed for a long time. Claret, apollinaris, and beer were offered, the latter appearing to be the favourite. Women were served in another room after the men had dined.



(From the Penyahbongs, kampong Tamaloe)

Ulung Tiung was left at home by his father who went out hunting. Borro, the cocoanut-monkey, came and asked for food, but when Ulung gave him a little he refused to eat it and demanded more. The boy, who was afraid of him, then gave more, and Borro ate until very little remained in the house. The monkey then said, "I am afraid of your father, and want to go home." "Go," replied the boy, "but return again." When the father came home in the evening he was angry that the food had been taken.

The following day when the father went out hunting, Borro again came asking for food. The boy, at first unwilling, finally yielded; the monkey ate with much gusto and as before wanted to go home. "Do not go," said the boy, "my father is far away." "I smell that he is near," said Borro, and went.

When the father returned in the evening and saw that the food again had been eaten he was very angry with the boy, who replied: "Borro ate it - I did not take any." Whereupon the father said: "We will be cunning; next time he comes tell him I have gone far away. Make a swing for him near your mat, and when he is in it tie rattan around him and swing him."

The father went away and the monkey came again and asked for food, and got it. When he had eaten the boy said: "You had better get into the swing near my mat." Borro liked to do that and seated himself in it, while the boy tied rattan around him and swung him. After a little while the monkey, fearing that the father might come back, said he wanted to get out, but the boy replied, "Father is not coming before the evening," at the same time tying more rattan around him, and strongly, too.

The father came home and fiercely said: "You have been eating my food for two days." Thereupon he cut off Borro's head, and ordered his son to take him to the river, clean him, and prepare the flesh to be cooked. The boy took Borro's body to the river, opened it and began to clean it, but all the small fish came and said: "Go away! What you put into the water will kill us." The boy then took the monkey some distance off and the big fish came and said: "Come nearer, we want to help you eat him."

The sisters of Borro now arrived, and his brothers, father, children, and all his other relatives, and they said to Ulung Tiung: "This is probably Borro." "No," he said, "this is a different animal." Then the monkeys, believing what he said, went away to look for Borro, except one of the monkey children, who remained behind, and asked: "What are you doing here?" "What a question!" the boy answered; "I am cutting up this animal, Borro."

The child then called all the monkeys to return, and they captured Ulung Tiung and carried him to their house and wanted to kill him. "Don't kill me," he said, "I can find fruit in the utan." The monkeys permitted him to do that, and told him to return in the evening, but the boy said that first he would have to dream.

In the morning the monkeys asked him what he had dreamed. "There is plenty of fruit in the mountain far away," he answered, pointing afar, and all the monkeys went out to the mountain leaving their wives and children behind. When they were all gone Ulung Tiung killed the women and children with a stick, and went home to his father. "I killed the women and children," he declared, "but the men had not come back." "We will watch for them with sumpitan," said his father, and when the monkeys returned and found that all who had remained at home were dead, they began to look for Ulung Tiung, but he and his father killed half of them with sumpitan and the rest ran away.

NOTE. - Ulung Tiung is the name for a boy whose mother is dead, but whose father is alive. For the sake of convenience I have maintained the Malay name "borro" for the cocoanut-monkey.


(From the Penyahbongs; kampong Tamaloe)

Ulung Ela made a fish-trap and when he returned next morning he found it full of fish. He put them in his rattan bag, which he slung on his back and started for home. As he walked, he heard an antoh, Aaton Kohang, singing, and he saw many men and women, to whom he called out: "It is much better you come to my place and sing there." Aaton Kohang said: "Very well, we will go there." The boy continued his march, and when he came home he gave one fish to his mother to roast, which she wrapped in leaves and put on the live coals. He also prepared fish for himself, ate quickly, and begged his mother to do the same. The mother asked: "Why do you hurry so?" The boy, who did not want to tell her that he had called an antoh, then said that it was not necessary to hurry.

After they had finished eating, in the evening Aaton Kohang arrived with many men and many women. They tickled the mother and her boy under the arms until they could not talk any more and were half dead, took what remained of the fish, and went away. The two fell asleep, but ants bit them in the feet and they woke up and saw that all the fish were gone. "Ha!" they said: "Aaton Kohang did this," and they ran away.

NOTE. - Ulung Ela is the name for a boy whose father is dead, but whose mother is alive.


(From the Penyahbongs; kampong Tamaloe)

Two small sisters, whose father and mother had died, went with the women to look for sago. The tree was cut and the sago, after having been beaten, was put into the large rattan bag. The younger child, who was sitting close to the bag, dropped asleep and fell into it. The other girl came to look for her sister but could not find her. She had disappeared, and when the women saw that the bag was already full they all went home. On returning next day they found plenty of sago inside of the tree, and had no difficulty in filling their bags.

NOTE. - Ulung Ania is the name for the elder of the two girl orphans. Ulung Kabongon is the name for the younger. When her elder sister died the latter became obon, and her name became Obon Kabongon.


(From the Penyahbongs; kampong Tamaloe)

Tabedjeh wanted to go to the place where a girl, Inyah, was living. On the way he met an antoh in the shape of a man with whom he began talking. Antoh said: "I am going to catch Inyah and eat her." Tabedjeh then drew his parang and cut off his head. But a new head grew, and many more, so that Tabedjeh became afraid and fled, with antoh running after him. He lost his parang, then, after a while, he stopped and took sticks to strike antoh with, but every time he struck the stick was wrested from him, and he had to take flight again.

He ran up on a mountain and antoh, in close pursuit, caught up with him sitting on a fallen tree. Tabedjeh was tired and short of breath, but when antoh saw what kind of a tree he was sitting on he said: "You may remain there. I cannot eat you now because I am afraid of that tree." Tabedjeh took a piece of the wood of the tree, which is called klamonang, and he went to the house of Inyah to show her the tree of which antoh is afraid, and they had their wedding at once.


(From the Penyahbongs; kampong Tamaloe)

Two brothers were walking in the utan, with sumpitans, when they met a pig which one of them speared. The quarry became furious and attacked the other one, but they helped each other and killed the pig, ate what they wanted, and continued their hunting.

Next they met a rhino which they killed. As they began to take off the hide, cutting into his chest, the rhino became alive again, and the hide turned out to be the bark of a tree. The two ran home, but the rhino came after them, so they again had to flee, pursued by him, until they came across a small tree called mora, of which antoh is afraid. They gathered some of the leaves, and as soon as the rhino saw that he ran away.


(From the Penyahbongs; kampong Tamaloe)

The mother of Daring's wife ordered him to go out and hunt for animals to eat, but said they would have to be without bones. He searched for a month, and all that he got had bones. Finally he brought back a leech, which she ate. Then she said: "Go and look for penganun," the huge serpent with the golden horn. He met the monster and used all his poisoned darts before it succumbed. He left it there and went home. "Have you got the big serpent?" she asked him. "Yes!" he answered. She then went out to bring it in, but she cut off only a little of the flesh, which she brought back. It was cooked in bamboo, and the people in the house ate it, but before they had finished the meal they became crazy - fifteen of them. The affected ones, as well as the bamboo in which the cooking had been done, turned into stone, but the meat disappeared. Daring and his wife, who had not partaken of the meal, escaped.

NOTE. - There exists in Borneo a huge python, in Malay called sahua, which is the basis for a superstitious belief in a monster serpent, called penganun, the forehead of which is provided with a straight horn of pure gold. The tale is possibly influenced by Malay ideas. The Penyahbongs have a name for gold, bo-an, but do not know how to utilise the metal.


(From the Penyahbongs; kampong Tamaloe)

Two young girls, not yet married, went to fish, each carrying the small oblong basket which the Penyahbong woman is wont to use when fishing, holding it in one hand and passing it through the water. A very young serpent, of the huge kind called penganun, entered a basket and the child caught it and placed it on the bark tray to take it home.

Penganun ate all the fish on the tray, and the girls kept it in the house, catching fish for it, and it remained thus a long time. When it grew to be large it tried to eat the two girls, and they ran away to their mother, who was working on sago, while their father was sleeping near by. Penganun was pursuing them, and he caught the smaller one around the ankle, but the father killed the monster with his sumpitan and its spear point. With his parang he cut it in many pieces and his wife cooked the meat in bamboo, and they all ate it.

NOTE. - Penganun, see preceding tale. The sumpitan (blow-pipe) has a spear point lashed to one end, and thus also may serve as a spear.


(From the Saputans; kampong Data Laong)

A woman was going to the ladang in the morning, and she said to her young son, Amon Amang, whose father was dead: "When the sun comes over the tree there you must begin to husk paddi." She then went away to the ladang while the boy remained at home. He carried the paddi, as well as the oblong wooden mortar, up into a tree. There he began to work, and the mortar and the paddi and the boy all tumbled down because the branch broke. A man helped the half-dead boy to come to his senses again, throwing water on him, and when the mother returned she was very angry to see the mortar broken and the paddi strewed all about. "I told you to husk paddi in the house when the sun came over the tree," she said. "Better that you now go and hunt birds."

The boy then decided to hunt. He climbed a tree and put up snares to catch birds. He caught a great many big hornbills, which he fastened alive to his loin cloth, and they began to fly, carrying the boy with them to a big tree, where they loosened themselves from him, left him in a cleft, and all flew away. The tree was very tall, but he climbed down a fig tree which grew beside it, descended to the ground, and went home.

His mother was not pleased that he did not bring any birds, and he told her what had happened. "Why all this?" she said. "You fell from the tree! You should have killed the birds," she declared reproachfully.

NOTE. - Amon Amang means the husband's child. (Amon = father; Amang = child.)

During my stay of two weeks at Data Lahong fortunate circumstances enabled me to gather a considerable number of Saputan tales. Several prominent men from neighbouring kampongs visited me and were willing to tell them, while of equal importance was the fact that a Mohammedan Murung Dayak in my party spoke the language well and made a very satisfactory interpreter.

On the other hand, I remained among the Penihings for many weeks, but the difficulty of finding either men who knew folklore or who could interpret well, prevented me from securing tales in that tribe. However, there is strong probability that much of the folklore told me by the Saputans originated with the Penihings, which is unquestionably the case with No. 16, "Laki Mae." The reason is not far to seek since the Saputans appear to have been governed formerly by the Penihings, though they also are said to have had many fights with them. According to information given me at Long Tjehan, Paron, the Raja Besar in the kampong, until recent years was also raja of the Saputans.


(From the Saputans; kampong Data Laong)

Dirang and his wife, Inyah, went out hunting with dogs, and got one pig. She then cut rattan to bind the pig for carrying it home, and the man in tying, broke the rattan. He became very angry and told his wife to look for another piece of rattan. She went away and met an antoh in the shape of a woman who asked her: "Where are you going?" "To look for rattan," was the answer, and "What is your name?" Inyah asked. "I am Inyah Otuntaga," the antoh answered. Inyah then said: "Take this rattan and give it to my husband."

Inyah Otuntaga brought the rattan to the man, who tied the babi all around, and she took it up and carried it home. The man, meanwhile, followed her, thinking it was his wife. She went to this side and that side in the jungle, frequently straying. "What is the matter," he said, "don't you know the way?" "Never mind," she retorted, "I forgot." Arriving at the house she went up the wrong ladder, and the man was angry and said: "Don't you know the right ladder?" She answered: "I cannot get up the ladder." "Come up and walk in," he exclaimed, and began to think she was an antoh.

She entered the room and slept there, lived with him ever after, and had two children. His former wife, much incensed, went to the house of her father, and after a while she had a child. Her little boy chanced to come to the house of his father, who asked his name. "I am the son of Inyah," he said. Then the father learned where his former wife was, and he went to fetch her, and afterward both wives and their children lived together.


(From the Saputans; kampong, Data Laong)

Two men, Sora and Iyu, went into the utan to hunt with sumpitans. While Iyu made a hut for the two, Sora went to look for animals and came across a pig, which he killed. He brought the liver and the heart to the hut and gave them to Iyu to cook. When the cooking was finished Iyu advised him of it, and the two sat down to eat. It was already late in the afternoon and Iyu, whose duty it was to fetch the pig, waited until next day, when he went away to bring it in, but instead he ate it all by himself, and then returned to the hut and told Sora what he had done. It was now late in the evening and they both went to sleep. The following morning Sora went out again with his sumpitan, but chased all day without meeting an animal, so he took one root of a water-plant called keladi, as well as one fruit called pangin, and went home. The keladi was roasted, but the fruit it was not necessary to prepare. They then sat down to eat, but could not satisfy their hunger, and Iyu was angry and asked why he brought so little. "I did not bring more," Sora answered, "because it is probable the owner would have been angry if I had." Iyu said: "Tomorrow I shall bring plenty."

Next morning Iyu came to the place where Sora had found the root and the fruit, and he ate all that remained there, but this belonged to an antoh, called Amenaran, and one of his children saw Iyu eat the root which he did not cook, and also saw him climb the tree and eat the fruit. He went and told his father, the antoh, who became angry, spoke to Iyu about it, and wanted to know who had given him permission.

Iyu, who was up in the tree still gorging himself with fruit, said he was not afraid and he would fight it out that evening. Amenaran stood below and lightning poured forth from his mouth and thunder was heard. Iyu said: "I have no spear, nor parang, but I will kill that antoh." And the big pig he had eaten and all the roots and all the fruits that he had been feeding on, an immense quantity of faeces, he dropped on Amenaran's head, and it killed him. Iyu returned home and told Sora that he had put Amenaran to death. They then went out and killed many animals with the sumpitan and returned to the kampong. "Now that antoh is dead we can no more eat raw meat nor much fruit," said Iyu. Long ago it was the custom to eat the meat raw and much of it, as well as much fruit, and one man alone would eat one pig and a whole garden. Now people eat little. With the death of antoh the strong medicine of the food is gone, and the Saputans do not eat much.

NOTE. - Laki is the Malay word for man or male, adopted by many of the tribes. The native word for woman, however, is always maintained. Keladi is a caladium, which furnishes the principal edible root in Borneo.


(From the Saputans; kampong Data Laong)

Tanipoi bore a female infant, and when the child had been washed with water on the same day, the father gave her the name Aneitjing (cat). Years passed, and the girl had learned to bring water in the bamboo and to crush paddi. And the mother again became pregnant, and in due time had another little girl which was called Inu (a kind of fruit).

Now, among the Saputans the custom long ago was that the woman who had a child should do no work during forty days. She must not bring water, nor husk paddi, nor cook. She remained in the house and took her bath in the river daily. She slept much and ate pork cooked in bamboo, and rice, if there was any, and she was free to eat anything else that she liked. Her husband, Tanuuloi, who during this time had to do all the work, became tired of it, and he said to his wife: "I cannot endure this any longer, I would rather die."

After he had cooked the meal and they had eaten he said: "Take the two children and go with me to the river." All four of them went into a prahu which he paddled down stream until they came to a large rock in the middle of the river, where he stopped it. They all climbed on the rock, and the prahu he allowed to drift away. He then said to his wife: "You and I will drown ourselves." "I cannot," she said, "because I have a small child to suckle." He then tore the child from the mother's breast and placed it on the rock. The two children and the mother wept, and he caught hold of one of her hands, dragged her with him into the water, and they were both drowned.

The two children remained on the rock all day. After sunset Deer (rusa) arrived. The older child called out; "Take me from here." And Deer came to the stone and placed Aneitjing on his back, and behind her Inu, and carried them ashore. Deer then made a clearing in the utan and built a hut for them. He then went to the ladang to look for food, but before starting he said to the children: "I am going to the ladang. Maybe I shall be killed by the dogs. In that case you must take my right arm and my right eye and bring them here."

Deer went away and was attacked by dogs. The two children heard the barking, and when they arrived the dogs were gone and Deer was found dead. The children took the right arm and the right eye and went home, made a clearing and dug a hole, where the arm and the eye were placed, and they covered the hole with earth. They often went to look at that place. After twenty days they saw a sprout coming up, and in twenty years this had grown into a big tree which bore all sorts of fruit and other good things. From the tree fell durian, nangka, and many other kinds of delicious fruit, as well as clothing, spears, sumpitans, gongs, and wang (money).

Rumour of this spread to the kampong, and two men arrived, Tuliparon, who was chief, and his brother Semoring. They had heard of the two young women, and they made a hut for themselves near by, but did not speak to the girls. They went to sleep and slept day after day, a whole year, and grass grew over them. Inu, the younger, who was the brighter of the two, said to Aneitjing: "Go and wake these men. They have been sleeping a long time. If they have wives and children in the kampong this will make much trouble for all of them." Aneitjing then asked Tipang Tingai for heavy rain. It came in the evening and flooded the land, waking the two men who found themselves lying in the water. They placed their belongings under the house of the women and went to the river to bathe. They then returned and changed their chavats under the house. The women wanted to call to them, but they were bashful, so they threw a little water down on them. The men looked up and saw that there were women above and they ascended the ladder with their effects.

The girls gave them food, and Tuliparon said to Inu: "I am not going to make a long tale of it. If you agree I will make you my wife, and if you do not agree, I will still make you my wife." Inu answered: "Perhaps you have a wife and children in the kampong. If you have, I will not, but if you have not, then I will." "I am free," he said, "and have neither wife nor child." Reassured on this point she consented. His brother and Aneitjing agreed in the same way. The women said that they wanted always to live where they had the tree with so many good things. The men felt the same way, and they went to the kampong and induced all the people to come out there, and thus a new kampong was founded.

NOTE. - Tipang Tingai means the highest God, the same as the Malay Tuan Allah. It is also used by the Penyahbongs.


(From the Saputans; kampong Data Laong)

Once upon a time three brothers, Mohaktahakam, Batoni, and Bluhangoni, started in the morning from the kampong and walked to another kampong where Pahit, an antoh, had a fish-trap. They were intent on stealing the fish, and as they went along they considered among themselves how they could take it. Pahit was very strong, but Mohaktahakam said: "Never mind, I am going to fight it out with him." Arriving there they let the water out of the trap, and with parang and spear they killed lots of fish of many kinds, filling their rattan bags with them. Taking another route they hurried homeward. Their burdens were heavy, so they could not reach the kampong, but made a rough shelter in the usual way on piles, the floor being two or three feet above the ground. They cut saplings and quickly made a framework, called tehi, on which the fish were placed. Underneath they made a big fire which smoked and cured them. In the morning they had boiled rice and fish to eat, and then went out to hunt for animals with sumpitan. The fish meanwhile remained on the tehi, the fire being kept alive underneath.

Pahit found his trap dry and no fish there. "Why have people been bold enough to take the fish?" he said to himself. "They don't know I am strong and brave"; and, very angry, he followed their tracks. He had gone scarcely half-way when he smelled the fish, which was very fat. When he arrived at the camp he found the fish over the fire, but nobody there. He gathered some leaves together behind the camp and sat down upon them to wait the arrival of the men.

In the afternoon Batoni and Bluhangoni returned to camp carrying much pig and deer. He immediately caught hold of both of them, lifted them up and brought them down with force upon the rough floor of the hut, and both died. Pahit saw that places had been made for three men to sleep, and knowing that there must be another man coming he decided to wait. The two bodies he placed under the hut, on the ground. After a while Mohaktahakam came, carrying pig, deer, rhino, wild ox, and bear, and threw it all down near the drying fish, to cook it later. He was tired, having walked all day, and went up into the hut to smoke tobacco. Pahit saw this and went after him. He caught hold of the man to throw him down, but could not lift him. Mohaktahakam, very angry, caught Pahit by the arms, lifted him up, threw him against the floor and killed him. "Pahit spoke of being strong and brave, but I am stronger," he said.

Mohaktahakam then made his brothers come to life again, and they cleaned all the animals they had caught and placed the meat on a tehi to dry and smoke. Then they cooked meat in bamboo and ate, afterward going to sleep. During the night one of them at times mended the fire, which was kept burning. In the morning, after eating, they went home to the kampong, carrying bags full of meat and fish.

NOTE. - Tehi, a framework for drying fish or meat, is called in Malay, salai.


(From the Saputans; kampong Data Laong)

Dirang left the kampong to hunt for heads, with three prahus and many men, armed with parangs, shields, sumpitans, and spears, and they also carried some rice for provisions. After a while the people who remained behind became very hungry, and one day Inyah, the wife of Dirang, went out to look for bamboo shoots to eat. She met a small babi (pig), caught it, and brought it home. In the kampong she asked the men to help her make a shed for it.

The babi, which was male, grew bigger and bigger. It was very strong, and when dogs, cats, or hens came near the shed it would kill and eat them. It was fierce and angry because it had not enough to eat, and finally it turned the shed over and killed and ate all the people. No one escaped but Inyah, who fled to another kampong, where she asked for help and the people permitted her to remain there.

Shortly afterward the babi arrived. All the people heard the noise it made as it came through the utan, breaking the jungle down. They said to Inyah: "You would better run away from here. We are afraid he may eat us." Inyah went away, trying to reach another kampong. She got there and asked for help against the man-eating babi. Hardly had she received permission to remain before a great noise was heard from the babi coming along. The people, frightened, asked her to pass on, and she ran to another kampong. There was a woman kapala in that kampong who lived in a house that hung in the air. Inyah climbed the ladder, which was drawn up after her. The babi came and saw Inyah above, but could not reach her, and waited there many days.

Dirang, who was on his way back from the headhunting expedition, came down the river, and he said to one of his companions: "It is well to stop here and make food." This chanced to be close to the place where Inyah was. They went ashore to make camp. Some of them went out to search for wood and met the babi, who attacked them, and they fled to their prahus. When Dirang, who was an antoh, saw his men on the run, he became very angry, went after the babi, and cut off its head. His men cut up the body and cooked the meat in bamboo, near the river, sitting on a long, flat rock. They ate much, and Dirang said that he now wanted to paddle down to the kampong, so they all started. Inyah had seen Dirang, and she said to the woman kapala: "Look! There is my husband. No other man would have been brave enough to kill the babi." The woman kapala said: "I should like to have such a husband if I wanted one, but I am afraid of a husband." Inyah said: "I want to go down." And she walked over to the place where the men had been sitting on the rock, went upon it, and accidentally stepped on a bone left from the meal, which hit her on the inside of the right ankle. The bone was from the right hind leg of the babi, and was sharp, so it drew a little blood from the ankle.

She felt pain and went back to the house. Some time later the leg began to swell, and as time passed it grew bigger and bigger. The woman kapala said: "There must be a child inside." "If that is the case," said Inyah, "then better to throw it away." "No, don't do that. Wait until the child is born and I will take care of it," said the kapala. When her time had come the child arrived through the wound made by the babi bone, and the kapala washed the child and took care of it. When two months old the child was given the name Obongbadjang. When he was fifteen years old he was as strong as Dirang.

Dirang had brought many heads to the kampong, but finding all the people dead and houses fallen down, he became angry and killed the slaves he had brought back. He then went out on another hunt for heads. When the prahus passed the kampong where Inyah was, all the people in the house saw them, and Obongbadjang, her young son, who had heard much of Dirang, went down to see him. "Where are you going?" asked Dirang. "I want to go with you," answered the boy. Dirang liked him, and let him into the prahu.

They travelled far and wide, and finally came to the kampong which they wanted to attack. Dirang went in from one end of the house and Obongbadjang from the other, and they cut the heads from all the people, men, women, and children, and met in the middle of the house. Dirang was wondering who this young man was who was strong like himself and not afraid. "My name is Obongbadjang," he said, "the son of Dirang and Inyah." He then ran away, although Dirang tried to keep him back, and he ran until he arrived where his mother was.

On seeing his son run away Dirang felt "sick in his throat," then collected all the heads, comprising the population of the whole kampong, put them in the prahus, and returned to look for his son and wife. He stopped at the same place where he had killed the big babi and made a hut. He then went to look for Obongbadjang and Inyah. When he was walking under the house, which was high up in the air, Inyah threw a little water down on him. He turned his head up and saw there was a house, but there was no ladder and he could not get up. They put out the ladder and he went up and met Inyah again, who, until then, he did not know was alive. He also met his son, and after remaining a little while he took them away to rebuild their kampong.

NOTE. - "Sick in his throat," Saputan mode of speech for deep emotional depression, is similar to our "feeling a choking in the throat." The Malays say: "Sick in his liver."

For the sake of convenience the Malay name babi for a pig, perfectly known to the Dayaks, has been maintained in this tale.


(From the Saputans; kampong Data Laong)

There were many young men who wanted to marry Inu Songbakim, a young girl, but she liked only one man, Monjang Dahonghavon, and, having obtained the consent of her father and mother, he shared her mat. One day he went out to work, making planks with his axe, while she remained at home cooking. When she had prepared the food she took it to him, and when she arrived at the place where he was working he looked at her as he was cutting with the axe and hurt himself. He died, and his father came and took the corpse to the house. Being an antoh he restored the life of his son, who became very angry with his wife for being the cause of his death. He wanted to kill her, but as she was very strong he could not do it, and instead, with his parang, killed her father and mother. His wife, in turn, became filled with wrath, and with a parang killed his father and mother.

The young man then left her to look for another wife, but could not find any that was to his liking, strong and good-looking, so after a while he decided to return to the wife he already had. "I like you much," she said, "but if you want to have me again you must make my father and mother alive again." "I will do that," he answered, "if you first will restore to life my father and mother." They were both antohs, so there was a general return to life, and the people from the two kampongs to which the families belonged came together and made the kampongs into one.


(From the Saputans; kampong Data Laong)

Many young men courted Ohing Blibiching, but she was difficult to please. Finally, she favoured Anyang Mokathimman because he was strong, skilful in catching animals, brave in head-hunting. She said: "Probably you have a wife." "No, I am alone," he said, and her father and mother having given consent, they then lived together.

After a while he said: "I want to go away and hunt for heads." She said: "Go, but take many men with you. If you should be sick, difficulties would be great." She then made rice ready in a basket, calculating that on a long journey they would depend more on the sago found in the utan. They would also kill animals for food, therefore, in addition to their parangs, the men took sumpitans along.

"If we have any mishaps," he said, "I shall be away two months. If not, I shall be back in a month." She remained in the kampong guarded by her father, mother, and other people, and after a while many young men began to pay her attention, telling her: "He has been away a long time. Maybe he will not return." One day at noon when she was filling her bamboo receptacles in the river as usual, taking a bath at the same time, she saw a fish sleeping, and caught it. She then lifted on her back the big-meshed rattan bag which held the bamboo receptacles, all full of water, and went home, carrying the fish in her hand. Before cooking it she went to husk paddi.

The bird Teong, who had heard she was beautiful, saw her and he liked her much. He flew to a tree from which he could get a good look at her where she was husking the paddi. In admiration he jumped from branch to branch until a dead one broke which fell down and wounded young Otter in the river under the tree. The mother of Otter became angry with Bird Teong for the injury. "I have been in this tree quite a while," Bird answered, "because I like to look at that woman. I did not know Otter was underneath. If you want damages, ask that woman there." "Why should I pay Otter?" the woman said. "I did not call Bird Teong. I have just finished pounding and am going to cook fish. This case we will settle tomorrow. I am hungry now." She went away and so did Bird and Otter. She cooked rice in one bamboo and the fish in another. Then she ate, after which she went to the river as the sun was setting, to take her bath. She soon went to sleep.

Early the next morning she made her usual tour to the river to bring water and take her bath, and when she had eaten, Bird and Otter arrived. Otter wanted damages from Bird, and Bird insisted that the woman should pay. She repeated that she knew nothing of Bird and had not asked him to come. As they were arguing, to her great relief her husband arrived. He brought many prisoners and many heads. "It is well you have come," she said. "Bird and Otter have made a case against me. I was husking paddi, and Bird liked to look at me. I did not know he was there in the tree for a long time. A branch fell down and wounded Otter's child, making her very angry, and she asks damages from me." "This case is difficult," the husband answered. "I must think it over." After a while he said: "The best thing to do is to give food to both." Bird was given fruit to eat and Otter fish, and they went home satisfied. All the people of the kampong gathered and rejoiced at the successful head-hunting. They killed pigs and hens, and for seven nights they ate and danced.

NOTE. - When an attack on men is decided upon the sumpitan is hidden and left behind after the spear-head has been detached from it and tied to a long stick. This improvised spear is the principal weapon on head-hunting raids, as well as on the chase after big game. The bird, called by the Saputans teong, is common, of medium size, black with yellow beak, and yellow around the eyes, also a little red on the head. It learns easily to talk, and is also common in Java.


(From the Saputans; kampong Data Laong)

The wife of Laki Mae was pregnant and wanted to eat meat, so she asked her husband to go out hunting. He brought in a porcupine, wild hens, kidyang, pig, and deer, and he placed all the meat on the tehi, to smoke it over fire, that it should keep. But the right hind leg of the porcupine was hung up by itself unsmoked, to be eaten next day. They had their evening meal and then went to sleep. In the night she bore an infant son, and, therefore, next morning another woman came to do the cooking. She took the hind leg and before proceeding to cook it, washed it. It slipped through a hole in the floor to the ground underneath. Looking through the hole she saw a small male child instead of the leg, and she told Mae of this.

"Go and take this child up and bring it here. It is good luck," he said. "It is my child too." It was brought up to the room and washed and laid to the wife's breast, but the child would not suckle. Mae said: "It is best to give him a name now. Perhaps he will suckle then." He then asked the child if it wanted to be called Nonjang Dahonghavon, and the child did not. Neither did it want Anyang Mokathimman, nor Samoling, nor Samolang. It struck him that perhaps he might like to be called Sapit (leg) Tehotong which means "Porcupine Leg," and the child began to suckle at once. The child of the woman was given a name two months later, Lakin Kudyang.

For two years the mother suckled the two, and then they were old enough to play behind the houses of the kampong. They saw many birds about, and they asked their father to give each of them a sumpitan. When they went out hunting the human boy got one bird, but the other boy got two. Next time the woman's son killed a plandok (mouse-deer), but the other one secured a pig. Their father was angry over this and said to "Porcupine Leg": "Go and kill the two old bears and bring the young ones here." He had recently seen two bears, with one cub each, under the roots of a tree in the neighbourhood. The boy went, and the bears attacked him and tried to bite him, but with his parang he killed both of them, and brought the cubs along to the kampong, bringing besides the two dead bears. The father again sent him out, this time to a cave where he knew there were a pair of tiger-cats and one cub. "Go and kill the pair and bring the cub here," he said. Again the boy was successful. Laki Mae did not like this and was angry.

In the evening "Porcupine Leg" said to his brother: "I have a long time understood that father is angry with me. Tomorrow morning I am going away. I am not eating, and I will look for a place to die." His brother began to weep, and said he would go with him. Next morning they told their father they were going to hunt for animals and birds. But when they did not return in the evening, nor later, the mother said: "I think they will not come back." Half a month later many men attacked the kampong. Laki Mae fought much and was tired. "If the boys had remained this would not have happened," the people said angrily to him. In the meantime the human son began to long to return, and he persuaded "Porcupine Leg" to accompany him. They both came back and helped to fight the enemy, who lost many dead and retired.

NOTE. - This story is also found with the Penihings, from whom undoubtedly it is derived. Laki, see No. 10. Tehi, see No. 12.


(From the Long-Glats; kampong Long Tujo)

A woman called Daietan had one child, Semang, who was a bad boy. He was lazy, slept day and night, and did not want to make ladang nor plant any banana nor papaya trees. His mother angrily said to him: "Why don't you exert yourself to get food?" Semang said: "Well, I will go tomorrow to search for something to eat."

At sunrise next morning he went away in a prahu, paddling up-stream. He reached a kampong, and the name of the raja here was Anjangmaran. He could find no food, so he went on to the next kampong, and to another, but had no success, so he continued his journey, and then arrived at the fourth kampong. There were no people here. It was a large kampong with many houses, and grass was growing everywhere.

He went up into a room and there he found all sorts of goods; salt, gongs, many tempaians (large Chinese urns) in which paddi was stored, and tobacco. Semang said to himself, "I am rich. Here is all that I need." And he lay down to sleep. In the night Deer (rusa) arrived and called out: "Is there any one here?" He ascended the ladder and lay down near the cooking place. Semang heard him, but was afraid to move, and slept no more. In the night he heard Deer talk in his sleep: "Tomorrow morning I am going to look for a small bottle with telang kliman. It is underneath the pole in front of the house."

Semang said: "Who is talking there?" Deer waked up and became frightened, ran down the ladder, and got into Semang's prahu, where he went to sleep. Before dawn Semang arose and walked down toward the prahu. On his way he saw an ironwood pole in front of the room, went up to it, and began to dig under it. He found a small bottle which he opened, and he put his first finger into it. He was astonished to see that his finger had become white, and he said: "This must be good to put on the body." He poured some into his hollowed hand and applied it all over his body and hair. His body became white and his clothes silken.

Pleased with this, Semang ascended the ladder, gathered together all the goods that he had found in the room, and began taking them to the prahu. There he found Deer asleep, and killed him with his spear. After bringing all the goods from the house to the prahu, Semang started down-stream. Owing to the magic liquid his prahu had become very large, and carried much, much goods, as well as the dead deer.

He travelled straight for the kampong, where he caught sight of his mother. "O, mother!" he cried, and went up the ladder carrying the bottle. He washed his mother with the liquid. She became young and beautiful, and it also gave her many beautiful garments. By the same aid Semang made the room handsome. Everything became changed instantly. The ceiling was of ironwood, and the planks of the floor were of a wood called lampong, which resembles cedar. Large numbers of brass vessels were there, and many gongs were brought from the prahu, besides a great quantity of various goods. The mother said: "This is well, Semang." She felt that she no longer had cause to be troubled; that whatever she and Semang might need would come without effort on their part.

NOTE. - According to Long-Glat belief, the deer, called in Malay rusa, possesses a magic liquid which enables it to restore the dead to life. The name of the liquid is telang kliman (telang = liquid; kliman = to make alive).


(From the Long-Glats, kampong Long Tujo)

Once there lived a woman, Boamaring, who was Raja Besar in a large kampong where people did not know how to work. They could not make ladangs nor prahus. Everything they needed came to them of its own accord, and the rajas of the neighbouring kampongs were afraid of her. This is the way it came about.

She heard a rumour of a musical instrument which could play by itself, and which had the power of bringing all necessary food. She said to her husband, whose name was Batangnorang, "Go to the limit of the sky and bring the instrument that plays by itself." Putting on tiger skin, and carrying his parang and sumpitan, Batangnorang went into a small prahu which was able to fly, and it flew one month, to the end of the sky. He landed in a durian tree, near a small house covered with the tail feathers of the hornbill. Its walls were of tiger skins, the ridgepole, as well as the poles of the framework, were made of brass, and a carving of the naga stood out from each gable.

He heard music from inside the house, and saw a woman dancing alone to the tune of the instrument that played by itself. She was the antoh of the end of the sky, and he knew that she ate people, so he was afraid to come down, for many men since long ago had arrived there and had been eaten. Many corpses of men could be seen lying on the ground. From his bamboo cask he took a small arrow, placed it in his sumpitan, and then blew it out toward the dancing woman. The arrow hit the woman in the small of the back, and she fell mortally wounded. Then he flew down to the house, finished killing her with his spear, and cut her head off with his parang. He then went up to her room and took the musical instrument, her beautiful clothing, and beads, and placed all, together with the head, in his prahu. He also took many fine rattan mats, burned the house, and flew away in the sky. After a month he arrived in his kampong and returned to his wife. "Here is the musical instrument you wanted," he said. "Good!" she answered, "what else did you hunt for?"

He placed it on the floor and asked it to play by striking it one time. Sugar, boiled rice, durian, cocoanuts began to fall down, also tobacco, salt, clothing - all the good things that they could wish for. The Raja Besar was greatly pleased and was all smiles, and the people of her kampong no longer found it necessary to work. Everything that they needed came when they wished for it, and all enjoyed this state of things.

When a month had passed she learned of a woman's hair ornament which was to be found in the river far away. It was of pure gold, and when one hung it up and struck it all sorts of food would drop from it. "Go and get that," she told her husband. "It is in a cave underneath the waters of the river."

Batangnorang made himself ready. He put on tiger skin, placed on his head a rattan cap with many tail feathers of the hornbill fastened to it, took his parang, his shield adorned with human hair, and his sumpitan. But he did not carry mats for bedding, nor food. He had only to wish for these things and they came. He then said farewell to his wife in a way that the Long-Glats use when departing on a long journey. She sat on the floor, and bending down he touched the tip of his nose to the tip of hers, each at the same time inhaling the breath as if smelling.

Batangnorang departed, stopping on the river bank, where he stood for a time looking toward the East, and calling upon the antoh Allatala. Then he went into the water, dived, and searched for ten days until he found the cave, inside of which there was a house. This was the home of the crocodile antoh, and was surrounded by men, some of them alive, some half dead, and many dead.

Crocodile was asleep in his room, and all was silent. Batangnorang went up on the gallery and sat down. After waiting a long time Crocodile awoke. He smelt man, went to the door which he opened a little, enough to ascertain what this was, and he saw Batangnorang. Then he passed through it and said to the stranger: "How did you come here? What is your name?" "I come from the earth above. I am Batangnorang." He was afraid antoh would eat him, and Crocodile's sister being his mother he added timidly: "I have a mother. I do not know of a father," he continued. "My mother, your sister, told me to go and meet my father down in the water." "What necessity was there for my child to come here?" asked Crocodile. "I am looking for a woman's hair ornament of gold," he answered. Crocodile said: "If you are my child then I will cook rice for you."

They both went into the room, which was fine, made of stone; the roof was of gold, and there were many gongs and much goods there. Crocodile cooked rice, but as he wanted to try the stranger he took one man from those outside, cut him into many pieces, and made a stew. He then told him to eat, and being afraid to do otherwise, Batangnorang ate it. Crocodile then said: "Truly you are my child. Another man would not have eaten this stew."

After the meal Crocodile put the remainder of the food away, with a tiny key opened a small steel trunk, took out the gold ornament, and gave it to Batangnorang. "Give this to your mother, Crocodile. When she wants to use it, hang it up and place a beautiful mat underneath. Then strike it one time with the first finger. Whatever you ask for must come."

Batangnorang took the hair ornament and placed it in the pocket of his shirt, put on his parang, and took his spear and shield. He then said farewell, and as he walked away he suddenly turned and thrust his spear into Crocodile's breast and killed him. Batangnorang carried away all that he desired, diamonds as large as hens' eggs, and much gold. He then went home, ascended to the room where his wife sat, and laid his weapons away.

He seated himself near his wife and produced the ornament. "I got this," and handed it to her. "How do you use it?" she asked. He hung it up by a string and placed a fine rattan mat underneath. All the people in the kampong gathered to see this, women, men, and children. He then struck it with his first finger, when lo! and behold! there fell all around pork, boiled rice, vegetable stew, sugar-cane, papaya, durian, bananas, pineapples, and white onions. All present ate as long as they were able, and food continued to fall. After that people slept at night and arose in the morning to eat and do no work, because all that they wished for was produced immediately.

NOTE.-The flying prahu, mentioned in this legend, plays an important part in the religious exercises of the Ot-Danum, Katingan, and Kahayan. See Chapter XXXI. The head ornament of women is different in this tribe from those observed elsewhere in Borneo. It may be seen in the back view of the three Long-Giat women in Chapter XXVI. The tale shows Malay influence by such expressions as gold, diamonds, brass, shirt pocket, bottle. Allatala, the rendering of the Mahommedan Tuan Allah, is accepted as an antoh also by certain Dayak tribes in Southern Borneo. Steel trunks, as sold by Chinese or Malays, are much in favour with the Dayaks, and were observed wherever I travelled. It is one of the first articles that those who have taken part in an expedition to New Guinea will buy to take home. White onions are usually to be procured on travels among the Dayaks, and of course are not originally indigenous, no more than are sugarcane and pineapples (both scarce, especially the latter), cassava and red peppers.

The non-Dayak expressions do not necessarily imply that the legend is Malay. The one circumstance that might lend colour to this belief is that in this legend, as well as in the preceding (Semang), both of which were told me by the same man, the beauty of idle life is glorified. This seems to be more a Malay than a Dayak quality. I was not long enough among the Long-Glats to be able to decide on this point. Circumstances favour a non-Malay origin. My informant, the kapala of Long Tujo, who showed Malay influence (see Chapter XXVI), may have embellished his narrative by his acquired knowledge of things foreign. He was in reality a thorough Dayak, and he had scruples about telling me these stories. He hesitated, especially in regard to the one related, because it might injure him much to let me know that one. The Long-Glat leave-taking, described, is called ngebaw (to smell) laung (nose).


(From the Ot-Danums; kampong Gunong Porok, Upper Kahayan River)

There was a man who, in grief and sorrow over the death of his wife, his children, and others, left his house and went far into the utan. Feeling tired he lay down to rest under a great lanan tree. While he slept a female orang-utan, which had its nest in the same tree and had been away hunting for food, came home, lifted the man in her arms, and carried him to her nest high up in the branches. When he awoke it seemed impossible for him to climb down, so he remained there. Each day she brought him fruit of various kinds, also occasionally boiled rice, stolen from the houses of the ladangs. After a few days she began to take liberties with him. At first the man declined her advances and she became angry, showing her teeth and nails. Finally she bit him in the shoulder, and then he surrendered. The man remained in the tree over a year. Although anxious to escape he feared the revenge of the orang-utan too much to make the attempt. In due time a male child was born who was human, but covered with long hair.

One day when she was absent seeking food he saw a sailing ship approach the coast and put out a boat for hauling water from the river near by. Hastily stringing his garments together he began the descent, but the rope was not long enough; however, by letting himself drop part of the distance he succeeded in getting down, and went away in the boat. Not finding him at home the orang-utan tried to swim to the ship, but the distance was too great. She then ascended the tree, and, in full view of the ship as it sailed away, she lifted the child and tore it in twain.

NOTE. - The Dayaks insist that this animal can swim, and my informant, a trustworthy Kahayan, said he had seen it. The orang-utan spends most of his time in the trees, seldom descending to the ground. That the one in this case is assumed to follow the daily habit of the Dayak is in accordance with the spirit of folk-lore.


(From the Ot-Danums, of the Upper Kahayan River)

A man called Mai Boang (father of Boang) had a very good-looking son who owned a fine big male dog, and when the child grew to be old enough he used the animal for hunting. One day when the dog was following the tracks of a deer he came into a long, long cave and Boang followed. To pass through the cave consumed thrice the time required to cook rice. Emerging on the other side the dog and the boy arrived at a house where there was a handsome woman. As darkness was falling he asked if he might stay over night, and she gave permission, the dog remaining under the house. Each was attracted by the other, so they passed the night together. Boang remained there, and in time she bore him a son. She possessed a female dog, and the two dogs had two male and two female pups.

Two or three years later Boang wanted to see his father and mother. She said: "I will go with you for a short time." With wife and child he went away, but he soon had to return because she did not like his country, of which the language and everything else was different. They came back, lived long, and had many children. Her name was Kamkamiak and she had long, long nails. When he was disinclined to comply with her wishes she forced him by using her nails on a tender spot. She shows herself to-day as alang, the black hawk.

The descendants of this pair are also Kamkamiak, evil antohs of women at childbirth. The offspring of the dogs is another kind of antoh, called Penyakit (sickness). One of these appears in the form of a large goat which is seen only occasionally. It bites in the neck and the throat, the wounds are invisible, and the victim must die on the second or third day.

When the descendants of Mai Boang are ill they become better when relating the story of Boang.

NOTE. - The handsome woman who figures in this story is an evil antoh which afflicts women at childbirth and by the Ot-Danums and others is called Kamkamiak, the one with the long nails. She is also commonly known by the name Branak. She causes the woman to lose much blood and to have pain in the uterus, the nails of the antoh playing an important part in these conditions. Men who work in the utan gathering rubber, rattan, etc., are liable to get a disorder under the scrotum that looks like scratches, and which ulcerate and may be troublesome for several months or a year. These are ascribed to the long nails of the antoh, Branak, and sacrifices of sugar and eggs are offered.

Pontianak, the well-known town in the Western Division of Dutch Borneo, is the name of another good-looking female antoh, who causes injury to women at childbirth.

Some evil antohs, by Kahayans and others called kuyang, also select maternity victims. They are believed to fly through the air at night, appearing like fireflies, and enter the woman through head, neck, or stomach, doing much harm. They are supposed to suck blood, and when a woman dies at childbirth from bleeding, the belief is that it was caused by these evil spirits that in the daytime appear as ordinary human beings. They are also able to suck blood from men and kill them. The goat is at times an antoh, as is also the case with the water-buffalo, which may appear in dreams and cause illness.

The period of time required for "cooking rice" mentioned in the tale is called one pemasak, equal to about half an hour.


(From the Katingans; kampong Talinka)

A Dayak went fishing and caught a patin which he took home in his prahu. He left the fish there and advised his wife, who went to fetch it. Upon approach she heard the crying of an infant, the fish having changed into a child, and she took it up, brought it home, gave it to eat and drink, and clothed it. The little one proved to be a girl who grew to womanhood, married, and had children. She said to her husband: "As long as we are married you must never eat patin."

After a time the husband saw another man catch a patin, and feeling an irresistible desire to eat the fat, delicious-looking fish, he was presented with a portion which he took to his house and cooked. Seeing this, his wife for the second time said: "Why do you eat patin? You do not like me." "I must have this," he said, and he ate, and also gave it to his children to eat. "I am not human," she said, "I am patin, and now I will return to the water. But mind this: If you or your descendants ever eat patin you will be ill." And she went down to the river and became fish again. Since that time her descendants do not eat patin, even when they accept Islam. Some have dared to break the rule, and they have become ill with fever and diarrhoea, accompanied by eruptions, abscesses, and open sores on the arms and legs. The remedy is to burn the bones of the fish and waft the smoke over the patient. For internal use the bones pulverised and mixed with water are taken.

NOTE. - This fish, by the Dutch called meerval, is said to be about a metre long, and though eaten with impunity by some, its flesh is evidently poisonous, and, according to reports, if taken will cause the flesh to fall from the bones. In accordance with a custom apparently universal among Dayaks, of leaving quarry for the women to bring home, the patin when caught is usually left at the landing float to be disposed of by the wife of the fisherman.

The Kiai Laman, a Kahayan, and a Mohammedan, who related the story, does not eat this fish, nor water turtle. Mr. B. Brouers, of Bandjermasin, whose mother was a Dayak noble from the Lower Kahayan, was instructed by her never to eat turtle. He, being a Dutchman, disregards this and nothing has ever happened, as he said, but he added that an acquaintance who did likewise lost the skin of his finger-tips.


(From the Kahayans of Kuala Kapuas)

Long, long ago a man was catching punai with sticks to which glue had been applied. One was caught under the wing and fell to the ground. As he went to take it up it flew away a short distance. This happened several times, but at last he seized it, when suddenly it changed to a woman. He brought her to his house and said he wanted to make her his wife. "You may," she replied, "but you must never eat punai." This story happened in ancient times when many antohs were able to change into human beings.

The woman bore him many children. One day, when in a friend's house, people were eating punai, and he also ate some of it. His wife learned this and said to him: "I hear that you have eaten punai. You don't like me. I shall become a bird again." Since then her descendants have never eaten this bird, because they know that their great, great, great grandmother was a punai.

NOTE. - The punai is a light-green pigeon. Mata Punai (the eye of punai) is one of the most common decorative designs of many Dayak tribes.


In the beginning there were mountain-tops and sea between them. Gradually the sea subsided and the land appeared. A man and a woman living on such a mountain-top had a son. One day a typhoon lifted him in the air and carried him off to Java, where he arrived in the house of a rich Javanese. This was long before the Hindu kingdom of Modjopahit. In this house he remained many years, and showed much intelligence and industry in his work, which was to cut wood, fish, look after the poultry, and clean the rooms. It was not necessary to give him orders, for he understood everything at a glance. By and by he became a trader, assisting his patron. Finally he married the rich man's only daughter, and after living happily a long time he remembered his parents, whom he had left in Borneo, desired to visit them, and asked his wife to accompany him.

They went in two ships, and, after sailing a month or more, came to a mountain, for there was no river then. When the ships arrived, prahus came out to ask their errand. "I am looking for my father and mother whom I left long ago," said the owner. They told him that his father was dead, but that his mother still lived, though very old.

The people went and told her that her son had come to see her. She was very poor, for children there were none, and her husband was dead. Wearing old garments, and in a dilapidated prahu, she went out to the ships, where she made known that she wanted to see her anak (child). The sailors informed the captain that his mother was there, and he went to meet her, and behold! an old woman with white hair and soiled, torn clothing. "No!" he said, "she cannot be my mother, who was beautiful and strong." "I am truly your mother," she replied, but he refused to recognise her, and he took a pole (by which the prahus are poled) and drove her off.

She wept and said: "As I am your mother, and have borne you, I wish that your wife, your ships, and all your men may change into stone." The sky became dark, and thunder, lightning, and storm prevailed. The ships, the men, and the implements, everything, changed into stone, which today may be seen in these caves.

NOTE. - In the neighbourhood of Kandangan, a small town northward from Bandjermasin, are two mountains, one called gunong batu laki: the mountain of the stone man, the other gunong batu bini: the mountain of the stone wife. They contain large caves with stalactite formations which resemble human beings, ships, chairs, etc. The natives here visualise a drama enacted in the long gone-by, as related.

The Ex-Sultan of Pasir, a Malay then interned by the government in Bandjermasin, who was present when this story was told to me by a Mohammedan Kahayan, maintained that it is Dayak and said that it is also known in Pasir (on the east coast). Although the fact that the scene is laid in a region at present strongly Malay does not necessarily give a clew to the origin of the tale, still its contents are not such as to favour a Dayak source.


In closing this account of my investigations in Borneo it seems appropriate to comment briefly regarding the capabilities and future prospects of the tribes in Dutch Borneo comprised under the popular term Dayaks. We have seen that these natives are still inclined to the revolting habit of taking heads. In their dastardly attacks to accomplish this purpose, though moved by religious fanaticism, they show little courage. On the other hand they exhibit traits of character of which a civilised community might well be proud.

They are honest, trustworthy, and hospitable. In their kampongs a lonely stranger is safe from molestation and a white man travelling with them is far safer than with the Malays. They are able woodcraftsmen, and strikingly artistic, even their firewood being arranged in orderly fashion, pleasing to the eye. Should criticism arise regarding the unrestricted relations permitted in these tribes before marriage, owing to the fact that primitive conditions survive which are disapproved in civilised society, to their credit it must be admitted that conjugal relations are all that could be desired. A Dayak does not strike his wife, as Malays may do, and in business matters he takes her advice. During my travels I never heard of but one instance of infidelity. If such cases occur they are punished in some tribes with extreme severity.

In certain ways the Dayaks show more aptitude than either Malays or Javanese. To illustrate - the young men of the latter races whom I employed as "boys" on various occasions, and the Javanese soldiers who accompanied me, were satisfactory on the whole, but when several work together, each one is afraid he will do more than his share. Neither of them can tie knots that are at once firm and readily undone, nor are they able to drive a nail properly, put in screws, or rope a box, although no doubt in time they could learn; but the Dayaks are uniformly handy at such work. A well-known characteristic of the "inlander," which he possesses in common with some classes in other races, is that if he receives his due, no more and no less, he accepts the payment without question, but if a gratuity is added he will invariably ask for more. The Dayaks are much easier to deal with in that regard and more businesslike.

Needless to state neither Javanese nor Malays are stupid. They learn quickly to do efficient routine work in office or shop, but when something new demands attention they are at a loss and appear awkward. Their intelligence, especially as regards the Javanese, is sometimes beyond the ordinary. Dr. J.C. Koningsberger, who at the time was director of the Botanic Garden at Buitenzorg, Java, told me that an "inlander" once applied to him for a position. He was able to read a little, but the doctor said: "I cannot employ you because you cannot write." A week later he returned and demonstrated that he had mastered the obstacle, having been taught by a friend in the evenings by lamplight. When clever, the Javanese are very clever.

The different tribes of Dayaks known to me are also quick of perception, intelligent, and, though varying in mental ability, some of them, as the Kahayans and the Duhoi, undoubtedly are capable of considerable attainment if given the opportunity. The Dutch missionary in Kasungan told me of a sixteen-year-old youth, a Duhoi, who was very ambitious to learn to read. Although he did not know the letters to start with, the missionary assured me that in two hours he was able to read short sentences.

It was always a pleasure to meet the unsophisticated Dayaks, and on leaving them I invariably felt a desire to return some day. What the future has in store for them is not difficult to predict, as the type is less persistent than the other with which it has to compete in this great island domain. Ultimately these natives, who on the whole are attractive, will be absorbed by the Malays; the latter, being naturally of roving disposition, travel much among the Dayaks, marry their women, and acquire their lands. The Malay trader takes his prahus incredibly far up the rivers. No place is so remote that beads, mirrors, cotton cloth, bright bandannas, sarongs for women, "made in Germany," etc., do not reach the aborigines, often giving them a Malay exterior, however primitive they may be in reality. The trader often remains away a year, marries a woman whom he brings back, and the children become Malays. In its assumed superiority the encroaching race is not unlike the common run of Mexicans who insidiously use the confiding Indians to advance their own interests. As Mohammedans, the aggressors feel contempt for the pork-eating natives, many of whom gradually give up this habit to attain what they consider a higher social status, at the same time adopting a new way of living, and eventually disappear.

In this manner a change is slowly but surely being wrought in the Dayaks, who regard the Malays as superior and are influenced accordingly; but the influence is not beneficial. Malays have been known to incite them to head-hunting, using them as tools for their own ends, and when entering upon one of their frequent revolutions always manage to enlist the support of Dayaks whom they have deceived by promises. The late comers have already occupied most of the main courses of the great rivers, and are constantly pressing the rightful owners back into the interior.

The Dutch officials, be it said to their credit, are helping the latter against the intruders, and at times the government has limited the activities of the Malays on some rivers. But it is difficult, and apparently impossible, to stop a process of absorption that began centuries ago. The ultimate extinction of the Dayak is inevitable because the Malay is not only stronger, but has the additional advantage of being more prolific.



The Kayans of Dutch Borneo are not numerous. Outside of Long Blu on the Mahakam they are found chiefly on the Kayan River in the large district of the northeast called Bulungan. They occupy the lower course, reaching not quite to Long Pangian, though having settlements there. Three subtribes are known to exist here, Oma-Gaai, Oma-Laran, and Oma-Hiban. The first named, also called Segai, live in Kaburau, Bruen, and Long Pangian. They appear somewhat different from the rest in language, and they abstain from rusa (deer) as food, while the others eat it. They file off ten teeth in the upper front jaw. At the headwaters of the Kayan River in Apo Kayan lives a subtribe, Oma-Lakan, said to number about 400; these do not file the front teeth. In Chapter IX is described a recent head-hunting raid by the Kenyahs on these Kayans.


The Kenyahs are found only within the Bulungan district on the Kayan River. They are settled principally at the headwaters in Apo Kayan and at the sources of a northern tributary, the Bahau, in Podjungan. In these two regions it is estimated that they number altogether about 25,000. Down the river they have a few kampongs below Long Pangian, in the same vicinity; west of it are a few more, as mentioned in the description of my journey. On attempting to ascend the river further one would soon reach a vast extent of country entirely uninhabited except around the headwaters. The Bahau, too, is inhabited only at its source, and both rivers pass through wild, picturesque regions.

On that portion of the Kayan called Brem-Brem the river presents a formidable array of kihams which defeated the government's attempt to establish communication between Apo Kayan and the debouchure of the river. This was desirable for the sake of provisioning the garrison. An officer of the Dutch army in Borneo told me that from military reports and the testimony of Kenyahs he estimated that the Brem-Brem is a continuous stretch of kihams for thirty kilometres. The Kenyahs had told him that they walked two days and he thought that for four kilometres the river ran underground. These difficult conditions compel the Kenyahs to take another route in their travels to Tandjong Selor, marching over the watershed to the Bahau River, where they make new prahus and then continue the journey.

I give a list of subtribes with reserve:

Oma-Bakkah, Oma-Lisan, Oma-Kulit, Oma-Lim, Oma-Puah, Oma-Yalan, Oma-Tokkung, Oma-Bakkung, Oma-Bam, Oma-Lung, Oma-Badang, Lepo-Tepo, Lepo-Tao, Lepo-Maot, Lepo-Ke Anda Pah, Lepo-Ke Ang Lung, Lepo-Ke Oma-Lasang. Most of the Lepo are on the Bahau. My informant, who had travelled in the interior, said there was little difference in the languages of these subtribes.

The Kenyahs, a few Kayans, and the Katingans mutilate the membrum virile by transpiercing the glans and the urethra, and a piece of brass wire is inserted. A Kenyah tribe (Oma-Badang) in Podjungan, makes two perforations so directed that the wires are crossed.

The kapala of the Penihing kampong Long Kai, on the Mahakam, told me that Kayan and Kenyah are the same people. He probably knew the Kayans only by personal experience, but his opinion is curious in view of the fact that the two tribes have been bracketed by Dr. A.C. Haddon and Dr. J.H.F. Kohlbrugge.


(Notes from kampong Tumbang Marowei, on the Laong, a tributary to the Barito River, in Central Borneo)

At the time of childbirth two to four women and one blian attend the prospective mother, who assumes a recumbent position with the upper portion of the body slightly raised. The blian blows upon a cupful of water which the woman drinks in order to make delivery easy. The umbilical cord is cut with a knife or a sharp piece of ironwood, and the afterbirth is buried. Death in labor is not unknown, and twins are born occasionally. The mother is confined for a week, and she is forbidden to eat pork, eggs, new rice, cocoanut oil, or any acid substance. She may partake of ordinary rice, lombok (red pepper), as well as sugar, and all kinds of fruit except bananas. She bathes three times a day, as is her usual custom. In one week, as soon as the navel is healed, two or three fowls are killed, or a pig, and a small feast is held at which rice brandy is served. The child is suckled for one year.

No name is given the infant until it can eat rice, which is about five months after birth. At the age of six years, or when it begins to take part in the work of the paddi fields, fishing, etc., the name is changed. In both cases the father gives the name. The kapala, my informant, changed his name a third time about ten years previously, when he entered the service of the government. Names are altered for the purpose of misleading evil spirits.

Children were few here, one reason being that abortion is a common practice, as is instanced in the case of the kapala's wife who prided herself on her success in this regard on ten occasions. Massage as well as abortifacient herbs are employed for the purpose. The root of a plant in general use is soaked in water before administering. I was also shown a vine which was about two centimetres in diameter and was told that if a portion of this was cut off and the end inserted into a pint bottle the vine would yield sufficient juice to fill it in a night. In case children are not wanted both husband and wife drink of this liquid after the morning meal, and both abstain from water for the remainder of the day. It is believed that afterward it would be possible for the man to have offspring only by marrying a new wife. There are also several specifics to prevent conception, but none for producing fertility. The kapala gave as reasons for this practice scarcity of food and woman's fear of dying. Both seem incongruous to fact and primitive ideas, and perhaps his view would better be accepted only as an indication of his ignorance in the matter. The young people are taught to dance by the blian before they are married, and take lessons for a year or two.

The Murung blian possesses three small wooden statues of human beings which he employs in recovering brua (souls) and bringing them back to persons who are ill, thus making them well. These images are called jurong, two being males, the other female, and carrying a child on its back. While performing his rites over either sex the blian holds the female jurong in his right hand, the other two being inserted under his girdle, one in front, the other at the back, to protect him against his enemies. In the case of a child being ill its brua is brought back by means of the infant carved on the back of the effigy. Undoubtedly the images are similar in character to the kapatongs I have described as occupying an important place in the lives of the Duhoi (Ot-Danum), the Katingan, and other tribes of Southwestern Borneo.


(Notes from the Upper Busang River, Central Borneo)

The Dutch officials give this tribe the name of Punan-Penyahbongs; the Malays call them Punans, seldom Penyahbongs. The Saputans, a neighbouring tribe, told me that the Penyahbongs and the Punans make themselves mutually understood. Whether they really are Punans or have been called so because of their recent nomadic habits is difficult to determine. However, since they declare themselves to be Punans, in view of all related circumstances it is safe to conclude that they are allied to that great nomadic tribe.

According to the Penihing chief in Long Kai the name Penyahbong was applied formerly not only to the people, but also to the mountain range in which they were living, the Muller mountains, around the headwaters of the Kapuas River in the Western Division. The western sides of the Muller mountains seem to have been their headquarters, and most of them still live west of the mountains. To one of the tributaries of this river the tribe owes the name by which they are known among Punans, Saputans, and Bukats, who call the Penyahbongs simply Kreho.

They are not numerous and so far as my information goes they are limited to a few hundred. Gompul, the most reliable of my Malays in that region, and one of the first to arrive in those parts, told me that his mother had been captured by the Penyahbongs and kept by them for thirty-five years, until her death. According to his estimate there were over two hundred of them in the Muller mountains, and they had killed many Malays, taking their heads. Three chiefs were famous for being very tall.

Fishing with tuba is known to them, also to the nomadic Punans and Bukats, Saputans, and Penihings. The Penyahbongs believe they were placed in this world by an antoh. Omens are taken from nine birds and from dreams. When a house is finished there are two or three hours' dancing in the night by men and women, one man playing the sapi (native guitar).

The child is born outside of the house. One or two women stand by to take it, wrapped in cloth, into the dwelling, where for three days it remains unbathed. Although death at childbirth is known to occur, usually within fifteen minutes the mother rises and repairs to the house. The umbilical cord is cut with a sharp bamboo and the afterbirth is not taken care of, dogs generally being permitted to eat it. When the child can walk the father and mother give it a name. No abortion is practised, there are no puberty ceremonies, and sexual intercourse is not practised during menstruation.


(Notes from the Kasao River, a tributary to the Upper Mahakam)

The name Saputan is derived from the word sahput, sumpitan (the blow-pipe), and probably means, "those who have sumpitan." In the upper part of the Kasao River is a big back current called Saputan and the people who originally lived at the headwaters have the same name as the current. At first they were roaming in the mountains, though not conflicting with the Penyahbongs, and later settled in four kampongs which, beginning with the uppermost, at the time of my visit were: 1. Pomosing (mouse) at a tributary of the same name. 2. Data Laong (land of durian). 3. Ong Sangi (ong = river). 4. Nomorunge (a common, small, black and white bird) on a tributary of the same name; with hardly a hundred full-grown persons, this is the largest. Formerly the office of the chief, tjupi, was hereditary. When he became old he was succeeded by his son.

The woman bears her child in the house, surrounded by women, her husband, and another man. She assumes a lying position and is helped by being frequently lifted up, and by stroking. The abdomen is rubbed with a certain medicinal herb, first having been heated over the fire, to facilitate the expulsion of the afterbirth, which later is hung in a tree. Having tied a vine round the umbilical cord near the abdomen they cut the cord with a sharp piece of bamboo. The assisting women wash the baby as well as the mother.

For two days after childbirth she does no work, and for some time she must not eat the fat of pig or fish. In case of twins being born, they are welcome if the sex is the same, but if one is male and the other female, one is given away, the father exercising his preference. Two months after birth a name is given by the father. Should the mother die, no other woman willingly suckles the child unless the father has a daughter who can do it. However, by paying from one to three gongs a woman may be induced to undertake the duty.


(On the Mahakam River)

Bahau is the name of a river in Apo Kayan, where the tribes of the Mahakam River lived before they migrated to their present habitations, a hundred and fifty to two hundred years ago. The Penihings, Kayans, Oma-Sulings, and Long-Glats speak of themselves as Orang Bahau, as also do the Saputans, though probably they did not originally come from Apo Kayan. According to these Dayaks the designation as used by the Malays signifies people who wear only chavat (loin cloth), and the Punans and Ibans are said to be included under the same term.


(Notes from kampong Long Kai on the Mahakam River)

The formidable king cobra (naia bungarus) is feared by the Punans, who have no remedy for the bite of this or any other venomous snake. The Bukats are said to know a cure which they share with the Penihings; the bark is scraped from a certain tree and the juice is applied to the wound. Death from lightning is unknown to any of these three tribes.

The Punans apparently do not attribute disease to the adverse influence of an antoh, although their remedy is the same, consisting of singing in the night and removing small stones from the abdomen or other parts that may be affected.

The Bukats whom I met were beautifully tatued. The kapala whom I saw at Long Kai had the mark of a ripe durian on each shoulder in front and an immature one above each nipple. On the lower part of the upper arm was a tatu of an edible root, in Penihing called rayong. Over the back of his right hand, toward the knuckles, he had a zigzag mark representing the excrescences of the durian fruit. In regard to the presence of spirits, number of souls, blians, disease, and its cure, restrictions for pregnant women, the child's cradle - the ideas of the Bukats are identical with those of the Penihings, and possibly are derived from them.


(Notes from the Mahakam River)

The Penihings get their supply of ipoh, the poison for the sumpitan darts, from Punans who live at the sources of the rivers of the Western Division. According to native report the trees which furnish the juice do not grow along the Mahakam and the nearest country where they are found is to the south of Tamaloe. As is the case with the Punans and Bukats, cutting the teeth is optional.

Restrictions imposed during pregnancy do not differ from those of other tribes described. At childbirth no man is permitted to be present. For three days the mother eats boiled rice, red pepper, and barks of certain trees, and she may work on the third day. Twins are known to occur. As soon as the navel is healed a name is given to the child. Both Penihing and Saputan, if asked, are allowed to give their own names. Marriages are contracted while the woman is still a child. There are no marriage ceremonies and divorces are easily obtained. If a married woman is at fault with another man the two must pay the injured husband one gong, as well as one gong for each child. In case the husband is at fault, the same payment is exacted by the injured wife.

The Penihings have a game called ot-tjin which I also observed in other Bornean tribes, and which to some extent is practised by the Malays. This game, generally known among scientific men by the name mancala, is of the widest distribution. Every country that the Arabs have touched has it, and it is found practically in every African tribe. It is very common in the coffee houses of Jerusalem and Damascus. A comprehensive account of the game mancala is given by Mr. Stewart Culin, the eminent authority on games, in the Report of the U.S. National Museum for 1894, pages 595-607.

With the Penihings the complete name is aw-li on-nam ot-tjin, meaning: playon-nam fish. An essential of the game is an oblong block of heavy wood which on its upper surface is provided with two rows of shallow holes, ten in each row, also a larger one at each end. The implement is called tu-tung ot-tjin, as is also both of the large single holes at the ends. There are two players who sit opposite each other, each controlling ten holes. The stake may be ten or twenty wristlets, or perhaps a fowl, or the black rings that are tied about the upper part of the calf of the leg, but not money, because usually there is none about. The game is played in the evenings.

Two, three, four, or five stones of a small fruit may be put in each hole; I noticed they generally had three; pebbles may be used instead. Let us suppose two have been placed in each hole; the first player takes up two from any hole on his side. He then deposits one in the hole next following. Thus we have three in each of these two holes. He takes all three from the last hole and deposits one in each of the next three holes; from the last hole he again takes all three, depositing one in each of the next three holes. His endeavour is to get two stones in a hole and thus make a "fish." He proceeds until he reaches an empty hole, when a situation has arisen which is called gok - that is to say, he must stop, leaving his stone there.

His adversary now begins on his side wherever he likes, proceeding in the same way, from right to left, until he reaches an empty hole, which makes him gok, and he has to stop.

To bring together two stones in one hole makes a "fish," but if three stones were originally placed in each hole, then three make a "fish"; if four were originally placed, then four make a "fish," etc., up to five. The player deposits the "fish" he gains to the right in the single hole at the end.

The two men proceed alternately in this manner, trying to make "fish" (ara ot-tjin). The player is stopped in his quest by an empty hole; there he deposits his last stone and his adversary begins. During the process of taking up and laying down the stones no hole is omitted; in some of them the stones will accumulate. On the occasion of the game described I saw two with eight in them.

When one of the players has no stones left in his holes he has lost. If stones are left on either side, but not enough to proceed, then there is an impasse, and the game must be played over again.


(On the Mahakam River)

To marry the daughter of a noble the man must pay her father twenty to thirty gongs (each costing twenty to forty florins). The price of the daughter of a pangawa is from one to three gongs, and to obtain a wife from the family of a pangin costs a parang, a knife, or some beads. Women assist at childbirth, which takes place within the room, near the door, but generally no blian is present.

When a girl has her first menstruation a hen or a pig is killed, and in the evening the blood thus obtained is applied to the inside of a folded leaf which the blian wafts down her arms - "throwing away illness," the meat of the sacrifice being eaten as usual. The same treatment is bestowed upon any one who desires good health.

As many infants die, it is the custom to wait eight or ten days after birth before naming a child, when a similar sacrifice is made, and a leaf prepared in like manner is passed down the arms of the infant by the blian. In selecting a name he resorts to an omen, cutting two pieces of a banana leaf into the shape of smaller leaves. According to the way these fall to the ground the matter is decided. If after two trials the same result is obtained the proposed name is considered appropriate. Also on the occasion of marriage, a similar sacrifice and the same curative practice are used.

When couples tire of each other they do not quarrel. The husband seeks another wife and she another husband, the children remaining with the mother. The sacred numbers of the Oma-Sulings are four, eight, and sixteen. Contact with a woman's garment is believed to make a man weak, therefore is avoided.

The interpretation of designs in basketwork, etc., is identical with the Oma-Sulings and the Penihings, though the women of the last-named tribe are better informed on the subject.

The antoh usually recognised by the name nagah, is called aso (dog) lidjau by the Oma-Sulings and Long-Glats, while among the Penihings and Punans it is known as tjingiru, but nagah is the name used also in Southern Borneo, where I frequently noticed it in designs. On the Mahakam few are the Oma-Suling and Long-Glat houses which are not decorated with an artistic representation of this antoh. Among the Penihings in Long Tjehan I never saw a sword hilt carved with any other motif. On the knife-handle it is also very popular.

There are three modes of disposing of the dead: by burying in the ground a metre deep; by depositing the coffin in a cave, or by making a house, called bila, inside of which the coffin is placed. A raja is disposed of according to either the second or third method, but the ordinary people of the kampong are placed in the ground.


(Notes from Long Tujo, Mahakam River)

Before they emigrated from Apo Kayan the name of the Long-Glats was Hu-van-ke-raw. Attached to Long Tujo is a small kampong occupied by the Oma-Tapi, who speak a different language, and almost opposite, scarcely a kilometre down the river, is another inhabited by the Oma-Lokvi, who speak a dialect other than Long-Glat. Not far west of here is a kampong, Nahamerang, where the Bato-Pola live, said to be Kayan. The Long-Glats appear to be powerful, but their measurements are very irregular. They seem darker in colour than the other Bahau people, most of them showing twenty-six on the von Luschan colour scale.

Pregnant women and their husbands are subject to restrictions similar to those already described in regard to other tribes. In addition may be mentioned that they must not eat two bananas that have grown together, nor sugar-cane which the wind has blown to the ground, nor rice if it has boiled over the kettle, nor fish which in being caught has fallen to the ground or in the boat. The afterbirth drops through the floor and is eaten by dogs or pigs. The still-born child is wrapped in a mat and placed in a hollow tree. The mother may work in five days. Two to four weeks elapse before the child is named by the blian and this ceremony is accompanied by the sacrifice of a pig. In cases of divorce the children may follow either parent according to agreement.

The coffin is a log hollowed out, and provided with a cover. At one end is carved the head of Panli, an antoh, and at the other his tail. Many vestments are put on the corpse, and for a man a parang is placed by his side within the coffin. The house is then made and the coffin placed inside.

DUHOI (Ot-Danums)

(Notes from the Samba River, Southwestern Borneo)

The new-born child is washed with water of that which is brought to the mother, and the afterbirth is thrown into the river. Most of the women, after bearing a child in the morning, walk about in the afternoon, though some have to wait a few days. Their food for some time is rice and fish, abstaining from salt, lombok (red pepper), fat, acid, and bitter food, also meat.

Seven days after birth the child is taken to the river to be bathed. On its return blood from a fowl or, if people are well to do, from a pig that has been sacrificed, is smeared on its forehead and chest, and a name is given. The presence of the blian not being required, the parents give the name, which is taken from a plant, tree, flower, animal, or fish. A wristlet is placed around each wrist and the name is not changed later in life. There are no puberty nor menstruation ceremonies. No sexual intercourse is permissible while a woman is pregnant, nor during menstruation, nor during the first three months after childbirth. Cousins may marry.

Evidence of polyandry is found among the Duhoi. Eight years previous to my visit on the river Braui lived for six years a woman blian about thirty years old, who had three young husbands. She practised her profession and the husbands gathered rattan and rubber. She was known to have had thirty-three husbands, keeping a man a couple of weeks, or as many months, then taking others. She had no children.

A design representing the flying prahu, described in Chapter XXXI, is also occasionally seen in Kahayan mats, the idea being that it may be of assistance to some beneficent antoh. In this connection it is of interest to note how the Kahayans use the flying prahu as a feature of the great tiwah festival. Drawings of the craft are made in colours on boards which are placed in the house of ceremonies, and are intended to serve as a conveyance for the liao. Such drawings are also presented to the good antoh, Sangiang, as a reward for his assistance in making the feast successful, thus enabling him to fly home.


(Southwestern Borneo)

Of the Dayaks living about the headwaters of the Katingan River Controleur Michielsen, in his report quoted before, says: "I cannot omit here to mention that the Dayaks of these regions in language and habits show the closest agreement with the Alfurs in Central Celebes, whom I visited in 1869, and that most of the words of the Alfur language (which I at once understood because it resembles the low Java language) also here in the Dayak language were observed by me. This circumstance affords convincing testimony in favour of the early existence of a Polynesian language stock and for a common origin of the oldest inhabitants of the archipelago."

There appears to be much similarity in regulations regarding marriage, birth, death, and other adats as observed by the Katingans, Duhoi, and Mehalats. The latter, who live on the Senamang, a tributary to the Katingan River near its headwater, may be a Duhoi subtribe, but very little is known about them; the custom of drinking tuak from human skulls is credited to them, and they are looked upon with contempt by the Katingans for eating dogs.

With the Katingans it is the custom for the blian to deposit in a cup containing uncooked rice the objects withdrawn from a patient. Having danced and spoken to the cereal he throws it away and with it the articles, the rice advising the antoh that the small stones, or whatever was eliminated, which he placed in the patient, are now returned to him.

These Katingans begin their year in June and July, when they cut the jungle in order to make ladangs, months being designated by numbers. At the beginning of the year all the families sacrifice fowls, eat the meat, and give the blood to antoh in accordance with their custom. After the harvest there is a similar function at which the same kind of dancing is performed as at the tiwah feast. On both occasions a game is engaged in which also is found among the Bahau and other tribes, wherein a woman jumps dexterously between heavy pestles that, held horizontally, are lifted up and brought down in rapid succession. Three months later - at the end of the year - another festival occurs.

The Katingan calendar may be rendered thus:

1. Cutting the jungle, June and July....... during 2 months

2. Drying the trees and burning them....... during 1 month

3. Planting paddi.......................... during 2 months

4. New paddi............................... in 3 months

5. Harvesting.............................. during 1 or 2 months

6. Waiting................................. during 3 months

In order to ascertain the auspicious date for planting paddi these Dayaks employ an astronomical device founded on the obvious fact that in their country there comes a period when a rod placed in an upright position casts no shadow. That is the time for planting. In addition to this method of determination they consult a constellation of three stars which "rise" in the east and "set" in the west during half a year, and are invisible during the following six months. When the three stars appear perpendicularly above the rod in the early morning, before sunrise, then the time to plant is at hand; when they are in the zenith in the late afternoon before sunset, the season for making ladang has come.

For these observations, however, a single rod is not used, but an arrangement of rods called togallan, seven in number, which are planted in the ground, the middle one upright, the rest diverging on either side like a fan. Beginning on the left side, six months are indicated, but the togallan does not remain standing more than three; in fact as soon as the planting is finished it is removed. Although the most propitious time is when the sun is at zenith, it is also considered favourable for half the distance from the middle rod toward 3 and toward 5. If paddi is planted in the second month the crop will be injured; if in the fifth month, the plant will be damaged.

Formerly heavy spears made of ironwood were employed not only as weapons, but for agricultural purposes as well, both when making the holes into which the seed grains are dropped and as material in erecting the astronomical device. Each of the seven rods is called ton-dang, as is the pointed stick with which at present the ground is prepared for planting paddi.


With the Kenyahs and many other tribes it is the custom to give boiled rice that has stood overnight to the dogs, pigs, and hens; it is not considered fit for human food.

Regarding the number of souls: The Murung says that each person has seven souls, called brua, six being distributed as follows: one at the top of the head, one in each eye and knee, and one in the navel. The Duhoi (Ot-Danum) has also seven brua, one at the top of the head and one in each eye, knee, and wrist.

Other tribes speak of three souls. The Kenyahs, according to Dr. J.M. Elshout, have only one brua, located at times in the head, at times in the heart; and the tiger-cat and the orang-utan have stronger brua than man. The Katingans likewise recognise but one, called liao in life, and after death. They also give the same name to the soul of an animal, but the more common usage in the tribes is to call the ghost liao, by the Malays named njava.

In regard to the practice of incision, which is used in Southwest Borneo, Chapter XXXV, I am able to furnish some details gathered in Sampit from three Dayaks who had been operated upon. A cut is made in the praeputium lengthwise with a knife (further east a sharpened bamboo is used), a piece of iron wood being used as a support, and the operation which in Katingan is called habalak is performed by the father of the father's brother when the boy is coming of age. Before the event he must go into the river up to his navel seven days in succession, morning, midday, and evening, and stand in the water for an hour. All boys must undergo the operation, which is not sanguinary, the leaves of a tree called mentawa being applied to the wound. They could give no reason why they follow this practice any more than the ordinary Dayak can explain the purpose of tatuing.

With the Kayans, and, indeed, all the tribes I met in Dutch Borneo, it is the custom to urinate in a sitting position.

To the observer it is strikingly evident that the mammae of both Dayak and Malay women retain firmness and shape much longer than is the case with white women.



adat, precept, regulation, religious observance. 
antoh, spirit, good or evil. 
atap, a shelter, consisting of a mat resting on upright saplings, 
   often erected in the boats on long journeys.

babi, pig. 
badak, rhinoceros. 
balei, a general name for a house of worship. 
barang, goods, things, belongings. 
blanga, large, valuable jar, usually of Chinese manufacture. 
blian, priest-doctor. 
bom, custom-house. 
brua, soul.

chavat, loin-cloth. 
company (the), the government. 
cranyang, basket.

damar, resin.

gutshi, large jar.

inlander, native. 
ipoh, poison for the dart of the blowpipe, also the tree from 
  which it is secured (the upas tree).

kali, river. 
kampong, native village. 
kapala, chief (= pumbakal). 
kidyang, a small kind of deer. 
kiham, rapids. 
kuala, mouth of a river.

ladang, paddi field. 
laki, man, male. 
lombok, red pepper.

mandau, Dayak short sword (= parang). 
mandur, overseer.

nagah, fabulous animal, the apparition of a spirit.

onder, native subdistrict chief. 
orang, man.

paddi, rice. 
parang, Dayak short sword (= mandau). 
pasang-grahan, public lodging-house. 
pisau, small knife. 
plandok, mouse-deer (tragulus). 
prahu, native boat. 
pumbakal, chief (= kapala).

raja, a native chief, or noble. 
raja besar, big raja. 
ringit, the Dutch coin of f. 2.50. 
rupia, florin, guilder. 
rusa, deer.

sambir, mat made from palm leaves. 
sarong, a cloth wound around the loins. 
sayur, vegetable stew. 
sumpitan, blowpipe.

takut, timid. 
ticcar, mat made from rattan. 
tin, five-gallon tin can. 
tingang, great hornbill. 
tingeling, scaly ant-eater. 
tuak, native rice brandy. 
tuan, master, lord. 
tuan besar, great master or lord. 
tuba, root used for poisoning the water for fishing purposes.

utan, jungle, woods.

wah-wah, gibbon, a long-armed monkey. 
wang, coin, money.