Walter William Skeat

Not the least important attribute of the Malay magician in former days was his power of controlling the weather—a power of which Malay magic incantations still preserve remarkable traces.

Thus when the wind fails and the sails of a boat are flapping (kalau layer k’lepek-k’lepek), a Selangor magician would not unfrequently summon the wind in the following terms:—

“Come hither, Sir, come hither, my Lord,

Let down your locks so long and flowing.”

And if the wind is contrary he would say:—

“Veer round, Wind, a needle or twain (of the compass),

A needle to (let me) fetch Kapar.1

However heavy the merchandise that I carry unassisted,

Let me repair to Klang for the (morning) meal,

And Langat for the (evening) bathe.

Come hither, Sir, come hither, my Lord,

And let down your locks so long and flowing.”

Again, if the wind grew violent he would say:—

“Eggs of the House-lizard, Eggs of the Grass-lizard,

Make a trio with Eggs of the Tortoise.

I plant this pole thus in the mid-stream

(That) Wind and Tempest may come to naught.

Let the White (ones) turn into Chalk,

And the Black (one) into Charcoal.2

Sometimes the magician will fasten a rice-spoon (chemcha)3 horizontally to the mast of the vessel, and repeat some such charm as the following:—

“The bird ‘Anggau-anggau’ flies

To perch on the house of Malim Palita.

May you die as you lean, may you die from a push,

May you die by this ‘sending’ of ‘Prince Rice-spoon’s.’”4

Of rain-making ceremonies in Selangor there now remains little but tradition. Yet a Langat Malay told me that if a Malay woman puts upon her head an inverted5 earthenware pan (b’langa), and then, setting it upon the ground, fills it with water and washes the cat in it until the latter is more than half drowned, heavy rain will certainly ensue.6

On the other hand the recital of the following charm will, it is believed, effectually stop the heaviest downpour:—

“Though the stem of the Meranti tree7 rocks to and fro (in the storm),

Let the Yam leaves be as thick as possible,8

That Rain and Tempest may come to naught.”

With the foregoing should be classed such charms as are used by the Malays to dispel the yellow sunset glow.9

2. BIRDS AND BIRD CHARMS

The chief features of the Bird-lore of the Peninsular Malays, which, as will appear in the course of this chapter, is strongly tinged with animism, have been thus described by Sir William Maxwell:—

“Ideas of various characters are associated by Malays with birds of different kinds, and many of their favourite similes are furnished by the feathered world. The peacock strutting in the jungle, the argus pheasant calling on the mountain peak, the hoot of the owl, and the cry of the night-jar, have all suggested comparisons of various kinds, which are embodied in the proverbs of the people.10 The Malay is a keen observer of nature, and his illustrations, drawn from such sources, are generally just and often poetical.

“The supernatural bird Gerda (Garuda, the eagle of Vishnu), who figures frequently in Malay romances, is dimly known to the Malay peasant. If, during the day, the sun is suddenly overcast by clouds and shadow succeeds to brilliancy, the PÊrak Malay will say “Gerda is spreading out his wings to dry.”11 Tales are told, too, of other fabulous birds12—the jintayu, which is never seen, though its note is heard, and which announces the approach of rain;13 and the chandrawasi, which has no feet. The chandrawasi lives in the air, and is constantly on the wing, never descending to earth or alighting on a tree. Its young even are produced without the necessity of touching the earth. The egg is allowed to drop, and as it nears the earth it bursts, and the young bird appears fully developed. The note of the chandrawasi may often be heard at night, but never by day, and it is lucky, say the Malays, to halt at a spot where it is heard calling.

“There is an allusion to this bird in a common pantun—a kind of erotic stanza very popular among the Malays:—

“Chandrawasi burong sakti,

Sangat berkurong didalam awan.

Gonda gulana didalam hati,

Sahari tidak memandang tuan.14

“Nocturnal birds are generally considered ill-omened all over the world, and popular superstition among the Malays fosters a prejudice against one species of owl. If it happens to alight and hoot near a house, the inhabitants say significantly that there will soon be ‘tearing of cloth’ (koyah kapan) for a shroud. This does not apply to the small owl called punggok, which, as soon as the moon rises, may often be heard to emit a soft plaintive note. The note of the punggok is admired by the Malays, who suppose it to be sighing for the moon, and find in it an apt simile for a desponding lover.

“The baberek or birik-birik, another nocturnal bird, is a harbinger of misfortune. This bird is said to fly in flocks at night; it has a peculiar note, and a passing flock makes a good deal of noise. If these birds are heard passing, the PÊrak peasant brings out a sengkalan (a wooden platter on which spices are ground), and beats it with a knife, or other domestic utensil, calling out as he does so: “Nenek, bawa hati-nia” (“Great-grandfather, bring us their hearts”). This is an allusion to the belief that the bird baberek flies in the train of the Spectre Huntsman (hantu pemburu), who roams Malay forests with several ghostly dogs, and whose appearance is the forerunner of disease or death. “Bring us their hearts” is a mode of asking for some of his game, and it is hoped that the request will delude the hantu pemburu into the belief that the applicants are ra?iyat, or followers of his, and that he will, therefore, spare the household.

“The baberek,15 which flies with the wild hunt, bears a striking resemblance to the white owl, Totosel, the nun who broke her vow, and now mingles her “tutu” with the “holloa” of the Wild Huntsman of the Harz.16

“The legend of the Spectre Huntsman is thus told by the PÊrak Malays:—

“In former days, at Katapang, in Sumatra, there lived a man whose wife, during her pregnancy, was seized with a violent longing for the meat of the pelandok (mouse-deer). But it was no ordinary pelandok that she wanted. She insisted that it should be a doe, big with male offspring, and she bade her husband go and seek in the jungle for what she wanted. The man took his weapons and dogs and started, but his quest was fruitless, for he had misunderstood his wife’s injunctions, and what he sought was a buck pelandok, big with male offspring, an unheard-of prodigy.

“Day and night he hunted, slaying innumerable mouse-deer, which he threw away on finding that they did not fulfil the conditions required.

“He had sworn a solemn oath on leaving home that he would not return unsuccessful, so he became a regular denizen of the forest, eating the flesh and drinking the blood of the animals which he slew, and pursuing night and day his fruitless search. At length he said to himself: ‘I have hunted the whole earth over without finding what I want; it is now time to try the firmament.’ So he holloa’d on his dogs through the sky, while he walked below on the earth looking up at them, and after a long time, the hunt still being unsuccessful, the back of his head, from constantly gazing upwards, became fixed to his back, and he was no longer able to look down at the earth. One day a leaf from the tree called Si Limbak fell on his throat and took root there, and a straight shoot grew upwards in front of his face.19 In this state he still hunts through Malay forests, urging on his dogs as they hunt through the sky, with his gaze evermore turned upwards.20

“His wife, whom he left behind when he started on the fatal chase, was delivered in due time of two children—a boy and a girl. When they were old enough to play with other children, it chanced one day that the boy quarrelled with the child of a neighbour with whom he was playing. The latter reproached him with his father’s fate, of which the child had hitherto been ignorant, saying: ‘Thou art like thy father, who has become an evil spirit, ranging the forests day and night, and eating and drinking no man knows how. Get thee to thy father.’

“Then the boy ran crying to his mother and related what had been said to him. ‘Do not cry,’ said she, ‘it is true, alas! that thy father has become a spirit of evil.’ On this the boy cried all the more, and begged to be allowed to join his father. His mother yielded at last to his entreaties, and told him the name of his father and the names of the dogs. He might be known, she said, by his habit of gazing fixedly at the sky and by his four weapons—a blow-pipe (sumpitan), a spear, a kris, and a sword (klewang). ‘And,’ added she, ‘when thou hearest the hunt approaching, call upon him and the dogs by name, and repeat thy own name and mine, so that he may know thee.’

“The boy entered the forest, and, after he had walked some way, met an old man who asked him where he was going. ‘I go to join my father,’ said the lad. ‘If thou findest him,’ said the old man, ‘ask him where he has put my chisel which he has borrowed from me.’ This the boy promised to do, and continued his journey. After he had gone a long way he heard sounds like those made by people engaged in hunting. As they approached, he repeated the names which his mother had told him, and immediately found himself face to face with his father. The hunter demanded of him who he was, and the child repeated all that his mother had told him, not forgetting the message of the old man about the chisel. Then the hunter said: ‘Truly thou art my son. As for the chisel, it is true that when I started from home I was in the middle of shaping some bamboos to make steps for the house. I put the chisel inside one of the bamboos. Take it and return it to the owner. Return now and take care of thy mother and sister. As for him who reproached thee, hereafter we will repay him. I will eat his heart and drink his blood, so shall he be rewarded.’

“From that time forward the Spectre Huntsman has afflicted mankind, and many are those whom he has destroyed. Before dismissing his son, he desired him to warn all his kindred never to use bamboo for making steps for a house, and never to hang clothes to dry from poles stuck in between the joists supporting the floor, and thus jutting out at right angles with a house, ‘lest,’ said he, ‘I should strike against such poles as I walk along. Further,’ he continued, ‘when ye hear the note of the bird birik-birik at night, ye will know that I am walking near.’

Plate 3.—The Spectre Huntsman.

Plate 3.—The Spectre Huntsman.

The Spectre Huntsman (Wild Huntsman) of Malay legend—taken from a model made by a Selangor Malay. The model shows the Spectre Huntsman himself carrying his spear in the right hand, and one of his hounds, which is lame, in a wallet at his side. The remainder of his dogs (all differently coloured) precede him in his search for his quarry.

Page 116.

“Then the boy returned to his mother and delivered to her and all their kindred the injunctions of the lost man. One account says that the woman followed her spectre husband to the forest, where she joins in the chase with him to this day, and that they have there children born in the woods. The first boy and girl retained their human form, according to this account, but some Pawangs say that the whole family are in the forest with the father.21

“Numerous mantra, or charms, against the evil influence of the Wild Huntsman are in use among the Pawangs, or medicine-men of PÊrak. These are repeated, accompanied by appropriate ceremonies, when the disease from which some sick person is suffering has been traced to an encounter with the hantu pemburu.22

“The following may serve as a specimen:—

“Bi-smi-llÁhi-r-rahmÁni-r-rahim.

Es-salamu ?aleykum Hei Si Jidi laki Mah Jadah.

Pergi buru ka-rimba Ranchah Mahang.

Katapang nama bukit-nia,

Si Langsat nama anjing-nia,

Si Kumbang nama anjing-nia,

Si Nibong nama anjing-nia,

Si Pintas nama anjing-nia,

Si Aru-Aru nama anjing-nia,

Timiang Balu nama sumpitan-nia,

Lankapuri nama lembing-nia,

Singha-buana nama mata-nia,

Pisau raut panjang ulu

Akan pemblah pinang berbulu.

Ini-lah pisau raut deripada Maharaja Guru,

Akan pemblah prut hantu pemburu.

Aku tahu asal angkau mula menjadi orang Katapang.

Pulang-lah angkau ka rimba Ranchah Mahang.

Jangan angkau meniakat-meniakit pada tuboh badan-ku.

In the name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful,

Peace be on thee, O Si Jidi, husband of Mah Jadah.

Go thou and hunt in the forest of Ranchah Mahang.

Katapang is the name of thy hill,

Si Langsat is the name of thy dog,

Si Kumbang is the name of thy dog,

Si Nibong is the name of thy dog,

Si Pintas is the name of thy dog,

Si Aru-Aru is the name of thy dog,

Timiang Balu is the name of thy blow-pipe

Lankapuri is the name of thy spear,

Singha-buana is the name of its blade,

The peeling-knife with a long handle

Is to split in twain the fibrous betel-nut.

Here is a knife from Maharaja Guru,

To cleave the bowels of the Hunter-Spirit.

I know the origin from which thou springest,

O man of Katapang.

Get thee back to the forest of Ranchah Mahang.

Afflict not my body with pain or disease.

“In charms intended to guard him who repeats them, or who wears them written on paper, against the evil influences of the Spectre Huntsman, the names of the dogs, weapons, etc., constantly vary. The origin of the dreaded demon is always, however, ascribed to Katapang23 in Sumatra. This superstition strikingly resembles the European legends of the Wild Huntsman, whose shouts the trembling peasants hear above the storm. It is, no doubt, of Aryan origin, and, coming to the Peninsula from Sumatra, seems to corroborate existing evidence tending to show that it is partly through Sumatra that the Peninsula has received Aryan myths and Indian phraseology. A superstitious prejudice against the use of bamboo in making a step-ladder for a Malay house and against drying clothes outside a house on poles stuck into the framework, exists in full force among the PÊrak Malays.

“The note of the birik-birik at night, telling as it does of the approach of the hantu pemburu, is listened to with the utmost dread and misgiving. The Bataks in Sumatra call this bird by the same name—birik-birik. It is noticeable that in Batak legends regarding the creation of the world, the origin of mankind is ascribed to Putri-Orta-Bulan, the daughter of Batara-Guru, who descended to the earth with a white owl and a dog.”24

To the information contained in the foregoing passage I would add the following observations:—

Charms for neutralising the power of the Spectre Huntsman are by no means uncommon, and though they almost invariably differ in unimportant details, such as the names of his dogs and weapons, they still bear strong and unmistakable family likeness. Still there are some versions which contain important divergencies (two or three of these versions will be found in the Appendix), and it will only be after the diligent collation and compilation of a great many versions that the real germ or nucleus of the myth as known to the Malays will be clearly apparent.

One of the charms given in the Appendix evidently alludes to a different version of the story; the lines which contain the allusion being as follows:—

“I know your origin, O man of penance,

Whose dwelling was upon the hill of Mount Ophir,

[You sprang] from a son of the Prophet Joseph who was wroth with his mother,

Because she would eat the hearts of the birds of Paradise.”

Yet even here, if we except the obvious interpolation of the reference to the “son of the Prophet Joseph,” the task of reconciling the conflicting versions may be easier than would appear at first sight.25

A still more curious deviation occurs in another version,26 where the Spectre Huntsman’s poniard and k’ris are declared to be the insignia of the great Spirit-King Rama. The passage is as follows:—

“With a blind crow as his guide,

The giant demon, Si Adunada,

Carries (his weapons) slung over his shoulder with back bent double.

Salampuri is the name of his poniard (sekin),

Silambuara the name of his k’ris,

The insignia of the Demon Rama.”

That it is his weapons which the Spectre Huntsman’s son (Adunada) carries on his back appears from a passage below, which runs:—

“O Si Adunada, with the sword slung at your back,

Bent double you come from the lightwood swamps,

We did not guess that you were here.”

This reference to Rama opens up a long vista of possibilities, but for the present it will be sufficient to remark that the Spectre Huntsman himself is almost universally declared by the Malays to be the King of the Land-folk (Raja orang darat). It is on account of this kingship that his weapons receive distinguishing titles such as are given to royal weapons. This, too, is the reason that he is so much more dreaded by Malays than ordinary spirits of evil; his mere touch being considered sufficient to kill, by the exercise of that divine power which all Malay Rajas are held to possess.27

To return from the foregoing digression: there are many other curious legends connected with Birds. Thus, in 1882, Captain Kelham wrote as follows:—

“From Mr. W. E. Maxwell, H.M. Assistant Resident, of LÂrut, I hear that the Malays have a strange legend connected with one of the large Hornbills; but which species I was not able to find out. It is as follows:—

“‘A Malay, in order to be revenged on his mother-in-law (why, the legend does not relate), shouldered his axe and made his way to the poor woman’s house, and began to cut through the posts which supported it. After a few steady chops the whole edifice came tumbling down, and he greeted its fall with a peal of laughter. To punish him for his unnatural conduct he was turned into a bird, and the tebang mentuah (literally, He who chopped down his mother-in-law) may often be heard in the jungle uttering a series of sharp sounds like the chop of an axe on timber, followed by Ha! ha! ha!’”28

The following account of the bird-lore of the Malay Peninsula was compiled by me from notes supplied to the Selangor Journal29 by the late Sir William Maxwell:—

The Night-jar (Burong cheroh30) takes its name from the word applied to the second stage in the operation of husking rice. Malay women husk rice by pounding it in a mortar with a wooden pestle. The husked grain is then commonly winnowed in a sieve, and the unhusked rice (antah) which remains has to be separated from the husked rice and pounded over again. The second process, which is called ckeroh, is that from which the night-jar derives its name, the quick fancy of the Malay hearing in the note of the bird the slow measured stroke of a pestle (antan) descending in a mortar (lesong). This is possibly the foundation of the legend that the Night-jar is a woman who, while engaged in husking rice by moonlight, was turned into a bird in consequence of a quarrel with her mother. Another name for the night-jar is burong chempak.

The Burong sepah putri (“Princess’s betel-quid”) belongs to the Honey-birds or Bee-eaters, of which there are several species, remarkable chiefly for their brilliant metallic plumage. [A quaint story is told in explanation of its name: once upon a time the Owl (ponggok) fell in love with the Princess of the Moon (Putri Bulan) and asked her to marry him. She promised to do so, if he would allow her first to finish her quid of betel undisturbed; but before finishing it she threw it down to the earth, where it took the form of the small bird in question. The Princess then requested the Owl to make search for it, but as, of course, he was unable to find it, the proposed match fell through. This is the reason why the Owl, to quote the Malay proverb, “sighs longingly to the Moon,” and is the type of the plaintive lover.31]

The Burong tinggal anak (lit. “Good-bye, children” bird) is a small bird whose note is to be heard at the season when the young rice is sprouting (musim padi pechah anak). As soon as her young are hatched out this bird dies in the nest, repeating the words “Tinggal anak” (“Good-bye, children”), and the maggots which breed in her corpse afford an unnatural nourishment to her unsuspecting offspring.

Burong diam ’kau Tuah, or “Hold your peace, Tuah,” is the name of a small bird which is said to repeat the words—

“Diam ’kau, Tuah,

K’ris aku ada,”

or,

“Hold thy peace, Tuah,

My k’ris (dagger) is with me.”

The story runs that once upon a time there was a man who had a slave called Tuah, who answered him back, and with whom he accordingly found fault, using the words given above. In the transport of his rage he was turned into a bird.

The bird called Kuau in Perak (kuau is the name given in Malacca and Selangor to the argus pheasant, which in Perak is called kuang) is about the size of the mynah (gambala kerbau), and is said to have been metamorphosed from a woman, the reason of whose transformation is not known. It is said to be unknown on the right bank of the Perak River.

The “‘Kap-kap’ bird” is the name of a night-bird of evil omen, whose note heard at night prognosticates death.

The Tearer of the shroud (Burong charik kapan) is also a night-bird, with a slow, deliberate note which the Malays declare sounds exactly like the tearing of cloth.32 This signifies the tearing of the shroud, and unerringly forebodes death. Yet another night-bird ominous of approaching dissolution is the Tumbok larong. This bird, like the two preceding, is probably a variety of owl; the first and third are only found inland at a distance from the sea.

’Toh katampi (“Old-man-winnow-the-rice-for-the-burial-feast,” as Sir Frank Swettenham calls him,33) is a species of horned owl, which derives its name from a word meaning to winnow (tampi, menampi). Malays say that this bird has a habit of treading upon the extremities of its own wings, and fluttering the upper part while thus holding them down. This singular habit produces a sound resembling that of winnowing.

The ’Toh katampi is larger than the Jampuk, another species of owl, which is popularly supposed to enter the fowl-house and there live on the intestines of fowls, which it extracts during life by means of a certain charm (?elmu pelali, a charm similar to those used by the Malays for filing teeth, etc.) which it uses in order to perform the operation painlessly.

The “Luck-bird” (Burong untong) is a very small white bird about the size of a canary. It builds a very small white nest, which if found and placed in a rice-bin possesses the valuable property of securing a good harvest to its owner. As, however, the nest is built on branches in places difficult of access it is but rarely found, and Malays will give $10 for a genuine specimen, while sellers are known to ask as much as $25.

The Ruwak-ruwak is a kind of Heron whose nest if discovered would give the possessor the power of becoming invisible (alimun). But as neither nest nor eggs can usually be found it is held to be childless. Yet, however, if it is possible to approach sufficiently near, when the bird is heard calling in the swamps, it may be seen dipping a twig or else its bent leg into the water, and accompanying its action with its call, as if it were bathing a child on its knee; hence the Malay who hears its note says mockingly, “the Ruwak-ruwak is bathing its young one.”

Tukang is the name given in Kedah to a kind of Hornbill, which is believed to be the same as the langlin of Perak. The horn is of a yellow tinge, and is made into buttons, which, the Malays say, turn to a livid colour whenever the wearer is about to fall sick, and black when he is threatened by the approach of poison.34

The Merbu (? merbok) is a variety of Dove which brings good luck to its owner. Instances have been known where all the houses in a village have been burnt except that which contained a merbu; indeed, treatises have been written on the subject of keeping them. When the merbu dies its body merely shrivels up instead of breeding worms, which, it is added, would be worth keeping as curiosities should any appear.35

The bird called Pedrudang is a diver which has the power of remaining under water for a very long time. It is only to be found where the fish called kelesah exist in large quantities. The eggs of the kelesah are of great size, and the Malays say, therefore, that it cohabits with the pedrudang. These eggs are considered a delicacy by the Malays, who make them into a sort of custard pudding (s’ri-kaya).

To the Ground-pigeon (Tekukur) belongs the following story:—“Once upon a time there was a maiden who lived in the forest with her parents and little sister. When she grew up she was troubled by an anxiety to accompany her father in his expeditions to the forest, where he was engaged in clearing the ground for a rice-plantation. Her parents, however, persuaded her to stay at home; first until the trees were felled, then until the fallen timber had been burnt off, then till the rice had been planted, and then again till it was cut. When, however, they attempted to put her off yet once more, until the rice should be trodden out, she could bear it no longer, and taking off her bracelets and earrings, which she left behind the door, and placing her little sister in the swinging-cot, she changed herself into a ground-dove and flew away to the clearing. [She retained her necklace, however, and this accounts for the speckled marks on this dove’s neck.] On arriving at the spot where her parents were engaged at work, she alighted on a dead tree stump (changgong), and called out thrice to her mother, ‘Mother, mother, I have left my earrings and bracelets behind the door, and have put my little sister in the swing.’ Her mother, amazed at these words, hastened home, and found her daughter gone. She then returned to the bird, which repeated the same words as before, this time, however, concluding with the coo of a dove. In vain the distressed parents endeavoured to recapture her, by cutting down the tree on which she had perched; before they had done so she flew to another, and after following her from tree to tree for several miles they were obliged to desist, and she was never recaptured.”36

The following notes on birds are taken from a reprint37 of “Museum Notes” by Mr. L. Wray, jun., the official curator of the Perak Museum. Mr. Wray says:—

“The Weaver-bird, which makes the long hanging bottle-shaped nests occasionally seen hanging from the branches of a low tree, is said to use a golden needle in the work; and it is affirmed that if the nest is carefully picked to pieces, without breaking any part of it, the needle will be found; but if it is pulled ruthlessly apart, or if even a single piece of the grass of which it is made is broken in unravelling it, the golden needle will disappear. The makers of these curious and beautiful nests are said to always choose trees that are infested with red ants or wasps, or which grow in impassable swamps.”

The Weaver-bird (Ploceus Baya, Blyth) is called (in Selangor) Burong Tempua or Chiak Raya. It is said to use only the long jungle grass called lalang for making its nest, which latter is called buah rabun, and is used by the Malays for polishing sheaths and scabbards. When an infant keeps crying, one of the parents takes the weaver-bird’s nest, reduces it to ashes, and fumigates the child by thrice moving it round in a circle over the smoke. Whilst doing so, the parent either stands up with the right toe resting upon the toe of the left foot, or else squats upon the left heel, bending the right knee, and saying, ‘As the weaver-bird’s young in its nest, so rest and weep not’ (Bagimana anak tempua dalam sarang-nya, bagitu-lah ’kau diam jangan menangis). To the above I may add that besides the ordinary bottle-shaped nest, the weaver-birds also occasionally make a hood-shaped, or rather a helmet-shaped nest, which is alleged by the Malays to be the male bird’s ‘swing’ (buayan). This ‘swing’ resembles the upper half of an ordinary bottle-shaped nest, with a perch across it, which latter is also woven of grass. On the walls of the swing, just over each end of the perch, is a small daub of clay. The Malays allege that the male bird swings in it while the hen bird is sitting, and that the young too ‘take the air’ in it as soon as they are able to fly so far. Into the two daubs of mud over the perch the male bird (say the Malays) sticks fire-flies to give itself light at night.

“The King crow38 is called by the Malays the Slave of the Monkeys (Burong hamba kra). It is a pretty, active, noisy little bird, incessantly flying about with its two long racquet-shaped tail feathers fluttering after it. They say that when it has both of these feathers it has paid off its debt and is free, but when it is either destitute of these appendages, or has only one, it is still in bondage.

“The Gray Sea-eagle39 is called Burong hamba siput ‘the Slave of the Shell-fish,’ and its office is to give warning by screaming to the shell-fish of the changes of the tide, so that they may regulate their movements, and those species which crawl about on the mud at low water may know when to take refuge in the trees and escape the rising tide, or when the tide is falling, that they may know when to descend to look for food.

“The Burong demam, or ‘Fever bird,’ is so called from its loud, tremulous note, and the Malays say that the female bird calls in its fever-stricken voice to its mate to go and find food, because it has fever so badly that it cannot go itself. This bird is probably one of the large green barbets. The note is often heard, and doubtless the bird has been collected, but it is one thing shooting a bird and another identifying it as the producer of a certain note.

“Another bird, the White-breasted Water-hen, a frequenter of the edges of reedy pools and the marshy banks of streams, is reputed to build a nest on the ground which has the property of rendering any one invisible who puts it on his head. The prevailing idea among the Malays is that the proper and legitimate use to put it to is to steal money and other species of property.”

The next few notes on Malay bird-lore were collected by the writer in Selangor:—

The Toucan or small Hornbill (Enggang) was metamorphosed from a man who, in conjunction with a companion, broke into the house of an old man living by himself in the jungle, and slew him for the sake of his wealth. When life was extinct they threw a sheet over the body, and proceeded to ransack the house, throwing the loot into a second sheet close to the corpse. Day was about to dawn, when a false alarm induced them to make a hurried departure, so that they picked up the sheet with their loot and made off with it, carrying it slung hastily upon a pole between them. As they proceeded on their way day commenced gradually to dawn, and the man behind noticing something unexpected about the bundle, and divining the cause, called out to his companion “Orang!” (pr. o rang) “The man!” His companion, misunderstanding his exclamation, thought he meant that they were pursued by “a man,” and only went all the faster, until, on hearing his comrade repeat the cry a second and a third time, he turned round, and there saw the feet of the man he had murdered protruding from the sheet, a sight which startled him to such a degree that he turned into a bird upon the spot, and flew away into a tree, repeating as he went the fatal cry of “O’Rang! ’Rang!” which had caused the transformation. And to this day, whenever the Malay hears among the tree-tops the cry of “’Rang! ’rang!” he knows that he is listening to the cry of the murderer.40

The Argus-pheasant41 and the Crow42 in the days of King Solomon were bosom friends, and could never do enough to show their mutual friendship. One day, however, the argus-pheasant, who was then dressed somewhat dowdily, suggested that his friend the crow should show his skill with the brush by decorating his (the argus-pheasant’s) feathers. To this the crow agreed, on condition, however, that the arrangement should be mutual. The argus-pheasant agreed to this, and the crow forthwith set to work, and so surpassed himself that the argus-pheasant became, as it is now, one of the most beautiful birds in the world. When the crow’s task was done, however, the argus-pheasant refused to fulfil his own part of the bargain, excusing himself on the plea that the day of judgment was too near at hand. Hence a fierce quarrel ensued, at the end of which the argus-pheasant upset the ink-bottle over the crow, and thus rendered him coal-black.43 Hence the crow and the argus-pheasant are enemies to this day.

The bird called “Barau-barau” is said to have once been a bidan (midwife) whose employers (anak bidan) refused to pay her for her services, and kept constantly putting her off. Her patience, however, had its limits, and one day, after experiencing the usual evasion, she broke out into a torrent of intemperate language, in the midst of which she was changed into a bird, whose querulous note may be recognised as the voice of the aged woman as she cries out for the payment of her just wages.

About the big Kingfisher (Pekaka) an amusing parallel to the fable of the Fox and the Crow is related. It is said that this kingfisher once caught a fish, and flew to a low branch just overhanging the water to devour it. The fish, seeking for a means to save his life, decided to try the effect of a speech, and accordingly addressed his captor in the following verses, judiciously designed to appeal at once to her vanity and compassion:—

“O Kingfisher! Kingfisher!

What a glistening, glittering beak!

Yet while you, Big Sister, are filling your maw,

Little Brother will lose his life.”

At this critical juncture the Kingfisher opens her beak to laugh, and the fish slips back into his native element and escapes!

Fowling Ceremonies

Ideas of sympathetic magic run very strongly through all ceremonies connected with the taking of wild birds, such for instance as jungle-fowl or pigeon.

The commonest method of snaring jungle-fowl is to take a line (called rachik), with a great number of fine nooses attached to it, and set it so as to form a complete circle, enclosing an open space in the forest. You must bring a decoy-bird with you, and the instructions which I collected say that you should on arriving enter the circle, holding the bird like a fighting cock, and repeat these lines:—

“Ho, Si Lanang, Si Tempawi,

Come and let us play at cock-fighting

On the border-line between the primary and secondary forest-growth.

Your cock, Grandsire, is spurred with steel.

Mine is but spurred with bamboo.”

Here deposit the bird upon the ground. The challenge of the decoy-bird will then attract the jungle-fowl from all directions, and as they try to enter the circle (in order to reach the decoy), they will entangle themselves in the nooses.

As often as you succeed, however, in catching one, you must be careful to cast the “mischief” out of it, using the same form of words as is used to drive the “mischief” out of the carcase of the deer.

The method of catching wild pigeon is much more elaborate, and brings the animistic ideas of the Malays into strong relief, the “souls” of the wild pigeon being repeatedly referred to.

Plate 4.—Pigeon Decoy Hut.

Plate 4.—Pigeon Decoy Hut.

Used in snaring wild pigeon.

Page 133.

First you build a small sugar-loaf (conical) hut (called bumbun) in a carefully selected spot in the jungle. This hut may be from four to five feet high, is strongly built of stakes converging to a point at the top, and is thickly thatched with leaves and branches. The reason for making it strong is that there is always an off-chance that you may receive a visit from a tiger. At the back of the hut you must leave a small square opening (it can hardly be dignified with the name of a door), about two feet high and with a flap to it, through which you can creep into the hut on your hands and knees. [I may remark, parenthetically, that you will find the hut very damp, very dark, and very full of mosquitoes, and that if you are wise you will take with you a small stock of cigarettes.] In front of the hut, that is to say, on the side away from the door, if you want to proceed in the orthodox way, you will have to clear a small rectangular space, and put up round it on three sides (right, left, and front opposite the hut) a low railing consisting of a single bar about 18 inches from the ground. This is to rail off what is called “King Solomon’s Palace-yard,” and will also be useful from a practical point of view, as it will serve as a perch for your “decoy.”44

The instructions proceed as follows:—

Before entering the hut the wizard must go through what is called the “Neutralising Rice-paste” (tepong tawar) ceremony, first in the centre of the enclosed space, and then in each corner successively, beating each of the forked sticks (uprights) at the corners with a bunch of leaves. He must then take the decoy-tube, and after reciting the appropriate charm, sound a long-drawn note in each corner successively, and then insert the mouth-end of it into the hut through a hole in the thatch, supporting the heavy outer end upon a forked upright stick. Then entering the hut, he slips the noose at the end of the decoy-bird’s rod on to the decoy-bird’s feet, and pushing the bird out through the front door of the hut, makes it flutter on to one of the horizontal rods, where it will sit, if well trained, and call its companions. After a time the decoy-bird’s challenge is met by first one and then many counter challenges, then the wild pigeon approach, there is a great fluttering of wings, and presently one of the first arrivals flies down and commences to walk round and round the hut. Then the wizard awaits his opportunity, and as the pigeon passes in front of the door he pushes out one of the rods with a noose at the end, slips the noose over the bird’s neck or feet, and drags it into the hut.

The hut must be used, if possible, before the leaves with which it is thatched have faded, as the wild pigeon are less likely to be suspicious of the hut when its thatch is green.

In the way just described any number of pigeon can be taken, a bag of twenty or thirty being a fair average for a day’s work under favourable conditions.

The “call” will occasionally, for some unexplained reason, attract to the spot wild animals such as deer (especially mouse-deer) and tigers. Is it not possible that the story of the lute of Orpheus may have had its origin in some old hunting custom of the kind?

The following are specimens of the charms used by the wizard:—

When you are about to start (to decoy pigeons) say—

“It is not I who am setting out,

It is ’Toh Bujang Sibor45 who is setting out.”

Then sound the decoy-tube (buluh dekut) thrice loudly, and say—

“I pray that they (the pigeons) may come in procession, come in succession,

To enter into this bundle46 of ours.”

Now set out, and when you reach the conical hut (bumbun) say—

“My hut’s name is the Magic Prince,

My decoy’s name is Prince Distraction,

Distraught be ye, O Kapor47 (pigeon),

Distraught be ye, O Puding47 (pigeon),

Distraught be ye, O Sarap47 (pigeon),

Distraught (with desire) to enter our bundle.”

Or else when you first reach the hut, “take the (leaves of) the branch of a tree which is as high as your head, the leaves of the branch of a tree which is as high as your waist, the leaves of the branch of a tree which is as high as your knee, and the leaves of a tree which is only as high as your ankle-joint. Make them all into a bunch, and with them “flick” the outside of the hut, saying these lines—

“Dok Ding [stands for the] ‘Do’ding’ Pigeon,

Which makes three with the Madukara Pigeon,

The twig breaks, and the twig is pressed down,

And our immemorial customs are restored.”

When scattering the rice, say—

“Sift, sift the broken rice-ends,

Sift them over the rush-work rice-bag,

As one disappears another is invited,

Invited and brought down.

If you descend not, the Bear-cat (Binturong) shall devour you,

If you come not, wild beasts shall devour you,

And if you perch on a twig, you shall fall headlong,

If you perch on a bough, you shall be killed by a woodcutter,

If you perch on a leaf, you shall be bitten by the leaf-snake,

If you descend to the ground, you shall be bitten by a venomous serpent,

If you fly upwards, you shall be swooped upon by kites and eagles,

(That is) if you descend not.

Cluck, cluck! souls of Queen Kapor, of Princess Puding, and Handmaid Sarap.

Come down and assemble in King Solomon’s audience-hall,

And put on King Solomon’s breast-ornaments and armlets.”

When sprinkling the rice-paste (tepong tawar) on the uprights at each corner of the railed-off enclosure, say—

“Neutralising rice-paste, genuine rice-paste,

Add plumpness to plumpness,

Let pigeon come down to the weight of thousands of pounds,

And alight upon the Ivory Hall,

Which is carpeted with silver, and whose railings are of amalgam,

Unto the dishes of Her Highness Princess Lebar Nyiru (Broad-sieve).

Come in procession, come (in succession),

The ‘assembly-flower’ begins to unfold its petals,

Come down in procession, come down as stragglers,

King Solomon’s self has come to call you.

Sift, sift (the rice) over the rice-bag,

King Solomon’s self bids you haste.

Sift, sift the rice-ends,

Sift them over the rush-work bag.

As one disappears another is invited,

Is invited and escorted down.

Sift, sift the rice-ends,

Sift them over the salt-bag,

As one disappears another is invited,

And escorted inside (the hut).”

When you are sounding the call (melaung), stand in the middle of the enclosure and say:—

“Cluck, cluck! soul of Princess Puding, of Queen Kapor, and Queen Sarap,

Enter ye into our Bundle,

And perch upon the Ivory Railing.

Come in procession, come in succession,

The assembly-flower unfolds its petals.

Come down in procession, come down in succession,

King Solomon’s self is come to call you.

If you do not come down, the Bear-cat shall eat you,

If you do not appear, wild beasts shall devour you,

If you perch upon a twig, you shall fall headlong

(All over) the seven valleys and seven knolls of rising ground.

If ye go to the hills, ye shall get no food;

If ye go to the forest-pools, ye shall get no drink.”

Or else the following:—

“Cut the mengkudu48 branch,

Cut it (through) and thrust it downwards.

Let those which are near be the first to arrive,

And those which are far off be sent for,

Let those which have eggs, leave their eggs,

And those which have young, desert their young,

Let those which are blind, come led by others,

And those which have broken limbs, come on crutches.

Come and assemble in King Solomon’s audience-hall.

Cluck, cluck! souls of Queen Kapor, Princess Puding, Handmaid Sarap,

Come down and assemble in King Solomon’s audience-hall,

And put on King Solomon’s necklace (breast-ornaments) and armlets.”49

When about to enter the hut say—

“[Hearken], O Hearts of Wild Doves,

Cut we the Rod of Invitation,

This hut is named the Magic Prince,

This tube is named Prince Distraction,

Distraught (be ye) by day, distraught by night,

Distraught (with longing) to assemble in King Solomon’s Hall,

Cluck, cluck! souls of Queen Kapor,” etc. (as before).50

When you have just entered, and before you seat yourself, say—

“Sift, sift the rice-ends,

Sift them over a rush-work rice-bag,” etc. (as before).

Put your lips to the decoy-tube, and sound the call, saying—

“Cut the mengkudu stem;

Cut it (through) and thrust it downwards,” etc. (as before).

(or else some longer version, such as one of those given in the Appendix). When the wild pigeon have arrived and have entered the enclosure or “Palace-yard,” wait till they are in a good position, and then push out one of the rods with the fine noose at the end, slip the noose over the bird’s neck, and drag it into the house, saying as you do so—

“Wak-wak [stands for] a heron on the kitchen shelf,

Covered over with the top of a cocoa-nut shell,

Do you move aside, Sir Bachelor, Master of the Ceremonies,

I wish to ensnare the necks of the race of wild doves.”

Now that you understand the process of decoying pigeon with a pigeon-call, I must explain something of the curious nomenclature used by the wizard; for during the ceremony you must never call a spade a spade. In the first place, the hut must not on any account be mentioned as such: it is to be called the Magic Prince—why so called, it is hard to say, but most likely the name is used in allusion to the wizard who is concealed inside it. The name given to the calling-tube itself is more appropriate, as it is called “Prince Distraction” (Raja Gila), this name of course being an allusion to the extraordinary fascination which it evidently exercises on the pigeon. Then the decoy (or rather, perhaps, the rod to which it is linked) is called Putri Pemonggo’, or the Squatting Princess. Next to these come three Princesses which prove to be merely the representatives of three important species of wild pigeon. Their names, though variously given, are perhaps most commonly known as Princess “Kapor,” Princess “Sarap,” and Princess “Puding.”

Finally, even the rod used for ensnaring the pigeon has its own special name, Si Raja Nyila (Prince Invitation).

“King Solomon’s necklaces” and armlets are of course the nooses with which they are to be snared, and which will catch them either by the neck or by the leg.

The Princesses are invited to enter a gorgeous palace:—

“Come down, pigeons, in your myriads,

And perch upon the ‘Ivory Hall,’

(That is) carpeted with silver, and railed with amalgam,

(Come down) to the dishes of Her Highness Princess Lebar Nyiru (Broad-sieve).”51

The “dishes of Her Highness Princess Broad-sieve” cleverly suggest an abundance of provender such as is likely to appeal to a hungry bird!

In another version the three Princesses are invited to enter the “Palace Tower” called “Fatimah Passes” (Mahaligei Fatimah Lalu).

Moreover those who issue the invitation are no respecters of persons:—

“Let those which are near, arrive the first,

Let those which are far off be sent for,

Let those which have eggs, leave their eggs,

Those which have young, leave their young,

Those which are blind, be led by others,

Those which have broken limbs, come on crutches;

Come and assemble in King Solomon’s Audience-Chamber.”52

And a similar passage in another charm says—

“Let those which are near, arrive the first,

Let those which are far off be sent for,

Cluck! cluck! souls of the children of forest doves,

Come ye down and assemble together

In the fold of God and King Solomon.”

If blandishments fail, however, there is to be no doubt about the punishments in store for their wilful Highnesses: thus, a little later, we find the alternative, a thoroughgoing imprecation calculated to “convince” the most headstrong of birds:—

“I call you, I fetch you down,

If you come not down you shall be eaten by the Bear-cat,

You shall be choked to death with your own feathers,

You shall be choked to death with a bone in your throat.

If you perch on a creeper you shall be entangled by it,

If you settle on a leaf you shall be bitten by the ‘leaf snake,’

Come you down quickly to God’s fold and King Solomon’s.”

And an imprecation of similar import says—

“[If you do not come down, the Bear-cat shall eat you],

If you perch on a bough, you shall slip off it,

If you perch on a creeper, you shall slide off it,

If you perch upon a leafless stump, the stump shall fall;

If you settle on the ground, the ground-snake shall bite you,

If you soar up to heaven, the eagle shall swoop upon you.”

The first operation in building is the selection of the site. This is determined by an elaborate code of rules which make the choice depend—firstly, upon the nature of the soil with respect to colour, taste, and smell; secondly, upon the formation of its surface; and, thirdly, upon its aspect:—

“The best soil, whether for a house, village, orchard, or town, is a greenish yellow, fragrant-scented, tart-tasting loam: such a soil will ensure abundance of gold and silver unto the third generation.53

“The best site, whether for a house, village, orchard, or town, is level.54

“The best aspect (of the surface) is that of land which is low upon the north side and high upon the south side: such a site will bring absolute peacefulness.”55

When you have found a site complying with more or less favourable conditions, in accordance with the code, you must next clear the ground of forest or undergrowth, lay down four sticks to form a rectangle in the centre thereof, and call upon the name of the lords of that spot (i.e. the presiding local deities or spirits). Now dig up the soil (enclosed by the four sticks), and taking a clod in your hand, call upon the lords of that spot as follows:—

(Here mention the purpose to which you wish to put it.)

Wrap the clod up in white cloth, and after fumigating it with incense, place it at night beneath your pillow, and when you retire to rest repeat the last two lines of the above charm as before and go to sleep. If your dream is good proceed with, if bad desist from, your operations. Supposing your dream to be “good,” you must (approximately) clear the site of the main building and peg out the four corners with dead sticks; then take a dead branch and heap it up lightly with earth (in the centre of the site?); set fire to it, and when the whole heap has been reduced to ashes, sweep it all up together and cover it over while you repeat the charm (which differs but little from that given above). Next morning uncover it early in the morning and God will show you the good and the bad.

The site being finally selected, you must proceed to choose a day for erecting the central house-post, by consulting first the schedule of lucky and unlucky months, and next the schedule of lucky and unlucky days of the week.58

[The best time of day for the operation to take place is said to be always seven o’clock in the morning. Hence there seems to be no need to consult a schedule to discover it, though some magicians may do so.]

The propitious moment having been at last ascertained, the erection of the centre-post will be proceeded with. First, the hole for its reception must be dug (the operation being accompanied by the recital of a charm) and the post erected, the greatest precautions being taken to prevent the shadow of any of the workers from falling either upon the post itself or upon the hole dug to receive it, sickness and trouble being otherwise sure to follow.59

[The account in the Appendix, of which the above is a rÉsumÉ, omits to describe the sacrifice which has to be made before the erection of the centre-post, which has therefore been drawn from the instructions of other magicians.]

“When the hole has been dug and before the centre-post is actually erected, some sort of sacrifice or offering has to be made. First you take a little brazilwood (kayu sepang), a little ebony-wood (kayu arang), a little assafoetida (inggu), and a little scrap-iron (tahi besi), and deposit them in the hole which you have dug. Then take a fowl,60 a goat, or a buffalo [according to the ascertained or reputed malignity of the locally presiding earth-demon (puaka)], and cut its throat according to Muhammadan custom, spilling its blood into the hole. Then cut off its head and feet, and deposit them within the hole to serve as a foundation for the centre-post to rest upon (buat lapik tiang s’ri). Put a ring on your little finger out of compliment to the earth-spirit (akan membujok jembalang itu), repeat the charm61 and erect the post.”62

Another form of the above ceremony was described to me by a magician as follows:—

“Deposit in the hole a little scrap-iron and tin-ore, a candle nut (buah k’ras or buah gorek), a broken hatchet head (b’liong patah), and a cent (in copper). Wait till everybody else has returned home, and, standing close to the hole, pick up three clods (kepal) of earth, hold them (genggam) over the incense, turn ‘right-about-face’ and repeat the charm.63 Then take the three clods home (without once turning round to look behind you till you reach home), place them under your sleeping pillow and wait till nightfall, when you may have either a good or a bad dream. If the first night’s dream be bad, throw away one of the clods and dream again. If the second night’s dream be bad, repeat the process, and whenever you get a good dream deposit the clod or clods under the butt-end of the centre-post to serve as a foundation.”

A magician gave me this specimen of a charm used at this ceremony (of erecting the centre-post):—

Another rule of importance in house-building is that which regulates the length of the threshold, as to which the instructions are as follows:—

“Measure off (on a piece of string) the stretch (fathom) of the arms of her who is to be mistress of the proposed house. Fold this string in three and cut off one third. Take the remainder, fold it in eight and cut off seven-eighths. Take the remaining eighth, see how many times it is contained in the length of the threshold, and check off the number (of these measurements) against the “category” (bilangan) of the “eight beasts”64 (benatang yang d’lapan). This category runs as follows:—(1) The dragon (naga); (2) the dairy-cow (sapi); (3) the lion (singa); (4) the dog (anjing); (5) the draught-cow (lembu); (6) the ass (kaldei); (7) the elephant (gajah), and (8) the crow (gagak), all of which have certain ominous significations. If the last measurement coincides with one of the unlucky beasts in the category, such as the crow (which signifies the death of the master of the house), the threshold is cut shorter to make it fit in with one that is more auspicious.”65

The names of the “eight beasts,” coupled with the events which they are supposed to foreshadow, are often commemorated in rhyming stanzas.

Here is a specimen:—

I.—The Dragon (naga).

II.—The Dairy-Cow (sapi).

III.—The Lion (singa).

IV.—The Dog (anjing).

V.—The Draught-Cow (lembu).

VI.—The Ass (kaldei).

VII.—The Elephant (gajah).

VIII.—The Crow (gagak).

In close connection with the ceremonies for the selection of individual house sites are the forms by which the princes of Malay tradition selected sites for the towns which they founded. The following extract will perhaps convey some idea of their character:—

“One day Raja Marong Maha Podisat went into his outer audience hall, where all his ministers, warriors, and officers were in attendance, and commanded the four Mantris to equip an expedition with all the necessary officers and armed men, and with horses and elephants, arms and accoutrements. The four Mantris did as they were ordered, and when all was ready they informed the Raja. The latter waited for a lucky day and an auspicious moment, and then desired his second son to set out. The Prince took leave after saluting his father and mother, and all the ministers, officers, and warriors who followed him performed obeisance before the Raja. They then set out in search of a place of settlement, directing their course between south and east, intending to select a place with good soil, and there to build a town with fort, moat, palace, and balei.67 They amused themselves in every forest, wood, and thicket through which they passed, crossing numbers of hills and mountains, and stopping here and there to hunt wild beasts, or to fish if they happened to fall in with a pool or lake.

“After they had pursued their quest for some time they came to the tributary of a large river which flowed down to the sea. Farther on they came to a large sheet of water, in the midst of which were four islands. The Prince was much pleased with the appearance of the islands, and straightway took a silver arrow and fitted it to his bow named Indra Sakti, and said: ‘O arrow of the bow Indra Sakti, fall thou on good soil in this group of islands; wherever thou mayest chance to fall, there will I make a palace in which to live.’ He then drew his bow and discharged the arrow, which flew upwards with the rapidity of lightning, and with a humming sound like that made by a beetle as it flies round a flower, and went out of sight. Presently it came in sight again, and fell upon one of the islands, which on that account was called Pulau Indra Sakti. On that spot was erected a town with fort, palace, and balei, and all the people who were living scattered about in the vicinity were collected together and set to work on the various buildings.”68

Even in the making of roads through the forest it would appear that sacrificial ceremonies are not invariably neglected. On one occasion I came upon a party of Malays in the Labu jungle who were engaged in making a bridle-track for the Selangor Government. A small bamboo censer, on which incense had been burning, had been erected in the middle of the trace; and I was informed that the necessary rites (for exorcising the demons from the trace) had just been successfully concluded.

All wild animals, more especially the larger and more dangerous species, are credited in Malay folklore with human or (occasionally) superhuman powers.

In the pages which now follow I shall deal with the folklore which refers to the more important animals, first pointing out their anthropomorphic traits, then detailing some of the more important traditions about them, and finally, where possible, describing the methods of hunting them.

The Vegetation Spirit of the Malays “follows in some vague and partial way,” to use Professor Tylor’s words, from the analogy of the Animal Spirit. It is difficult to say, without a more searching inquiry than I have yet had the opportunity of making, whether Malay magicians would maintain that all trees had souls (semangat) or not. All that we can be certain of at present is that a good many trees are certainly supposed by them to have souls, such, for instance, as the Durian, the Cocoa-nut palm, and the trees which produce Eagle-wood (gharu), Gutta Percha, Camphor, and a good many others.

What can be more significant than the words and actions of the men who in former days would try and frighten the Durian groves into bearing; or of the toddy-collector who addresses the soul of the Cocoa-nut palm in such words as, “Thus I bend your neck, and roll up your hair; and here is my ivory toddy-knife to help the washing of your face”;135 or of the collectors of jungle produce who traffic in Eagle-wood, Camphor, and Gutta (the spirits of the first two of which trees are considered extremely powerful and dangerous) or, above all, of the reapers who carry the “Rice-soul” home at harvest time?

A special point in connection with the Malay conception of the vegetation soul perhaps requires particular attention, viz. the fact that apparently dead and even seasoned timber may yet retain the soul which animated it during its lifetime. Thus, the instructions for the performance of the rites to be used at the launching of a boat (which will be found below under the heading “The Sea, Rivers, and Streams”)136 involve an invocation to the timbers of the boat, which would therefore seem to be conceived as capable, to some extent, of receiving impressions and communications made in accordance with the appropriate forms and ceremonies.

So, too, a boat with a large knot in the centre of the bottom is considered good for catching fish, and in strict conformity with this idea is the belief that the natural excrescences (or knobs) and deformities of trees are mere external evidences of an indwelling spirit. So, too, the fruit of the cocoa-nut palm, when the shell lacks the three “eyes” to which we are accustomed, is believed to serve in warfare as a most valuable protection (pelias) against the bullets of the enemy, and the same may be said in a minor degree of the joints of “solid” bamboo (buluh tumpat) which are occasionally found, whilst to a slightly different category belong the comparatively numerous examples of “Tabasheer” (mineral concretions in the wood of certain trees), which are so highly valued by the Malays for talismanic purposes. Such trees as the Mali mali, Rotan jer’nang (Dragon’s-blood rattan), Buluh kasap (rough bamboo), etc., are all said to supply instances of the concretions referred to, but the most famous of them all is without doubt the so-called “cocoa-nut pearl,” of which I quote the following account from Dr. Denys’s Descriptive Dictionary of British Malaya.

The following remarks concerning these peculiar accretions are extracted from Nature:—

“During my recent travels,” Dr. Sidney Hickson writes to a scientific contemporary, “I was frequently asked by the Dutch planters and others if I had ever seen ‘a cocoa-nut stone.’ These stones are said to be rarely found (1 in 2000 or more) in the perisperm of the cocoa-nut, and when found are kept by the natives as a charm against disease and evil spirits. This story of the cocoa-nut stone was so constantly told me, and in every case without any variation in its details, that I made every effort before leaving to obtain some specimens, and eventually succeeded in obtaining two.

“One of these is nearly a perfect sphere, 14 mm. in diameter, and the other, rather smaller in size, is irregularly pear-shaped. In both specimens the surface is worn nearly smooth by friction. The spherical one I have had cut into two halves, but I can find no concentric or other markings on the polished cut surfaces.

“Dr. Kimmins has kindly submitted one-half to a careful chemical analysis, and finds that it consists of pure carbonate of lime without any trace of other salts or vegetable tissue.

“I should be very glad if any of your readers could inform me if there are any of these stones in any of the museums, or if there is any evidence beyond mere hearsay of their existence in the perisperm of the cocoa-nut.”137

On this letter Mr. Thiselton Dyer makes the following remarks:—“Dr. Hickson’s account of the calcareous concretions occasionally found in the central hollow (filled with fluid—the so-called ‘milk’) of the endosperm of the seed of the cocoa-nut is extremely interesting. It appears to me a phenomenon of the same order as tabasheer, to which I recently drew attention in Nature.

“The circumstances of the occurrence of these stones or ‘pearls’ are in many respects parallel to those which attend the formation of tabasheer. In both cases mineral matter in palpable masses is withdrawn from solution in considerable volumes of fluid contained in tolerably large cavities in living plants; and in both instances they are monocotyledons.

“In the case of the cocoa-nut pearls the material is calcium carbonate, and this is well known to concrete in a peculiar manner from solutions in which organic matter is also present.

“In my note on tabasheer I referred to the reported occurrence of mineral concretions in the wood of various tropical dicotyledonous trees. Tabasheer is too well known to be pooh-poohed; but some of my scientific friends express a polite incredulity as to the other cases. I learn, however, from Prof. Judd, F.R.S., that he has obtained a specimen of apatite found in cutting up a mass of teak-wood. The occurrence of this mineral under these circumstances has long been recorded; but I have never had the good fortune to see a specimen.”138

The Durian tree (for an account of whose famous fruit the classical description in Wallace’s Malay Archipelago may be referred to) is a semi-wild fruit-tree, whose stem frequently rises to the height of some eighty or ninety feet before the branches are met with. It is generally planted in groves, which are often to be found in the jungle when all other traces of former human habitation have completely disappeared, though even then its fruit, if tradition says true, is as keenly fought over by the denizens of the forest (monkeys, bears, and tigers) as ever it was by their temporary dispossessors. Interspersed among the Durian trees will be found numerous varieties of orchard trees of a less imperial height, amongst which may be named the Rambutan,139 Rambei,140 Lansat,141 Duku,142 Mangostin,143 and many others. A small grove of these trees, which was claimed by the late Sultan ?Abdul Samad of Selangor, grew within about a mile of my bungalow at Jugra, and I was informed that in years gone by a curious ceremony (called Menyemah durian) was practised in order to make the trees more productive. On a specially selected day, it was said, the village would assemble at this grove, and (no doubt with the usual accompaniment of the burning of incense and scattering of rice) the most barren of the Durian trees would be singled out from the rest. One of the local Pawangs would then take a hatchet (beliong) and deliver several shrewd blows upon the trunk of the tree, saying:—

To this the tree (through the mouth of a man who had been stationed for the purpose in a Mangostin tree hard by) was supposed to make answer:—

I may add that it was a common practice in the fruit season for the boys who were watching for the fruit to fall (for which purpose they were usually stationed in small palm-thatch shelters) to send echoing through the grove a musical note, which they produced by blowing into a bamboo instrument called tuang-tuang. I cannot, however, say whether this custom now has any ceremonial significance or not, though it seems not at all unlikely that it once had.146

No less distinct are the animistic ideas of the Malays relating to various species of the Malacca-cane plant. Mr. Wray of the Perak Museum writes as follows:—

“A Malacca-cane with a joint as long as the height of the owner will protect him from harm by snakes and animals, and will give him luck in all things. What is called a samambu bangku147 or baku, possesses the power of killing any one even when the person is only slightly hurt by a blow dealt with it. These are canes that have died down and have begun to shoot again from near the root. They are very rare, one of eighteen inches in length is valued at six or seven dollars, and one long enough to make a walking stick of, at thirty to fifty dollars. At night the rotan samambu plant is said to make a loud noise, and, according to the Malays, it says, ‘Bulam sampei, bulam sampei,’148 meaning that it has not yet reached its full growth. They are often to be heard in the jungle at night, but the most diligent search will not reveal their whereabouts. The rotan manoh149 is also said to give out sounds at night. The sounds are loud and musical, but the alleged will-o’-the-wisp character of the rattans which are supposed to produce them seems to point to some night-bird, tree-frog, or lizard as being the real cause of the weird notes, though it is just possible that the wind might make the rattan leaves vibrate in such a way as to cause the sounds.”150

In Selangor it is the stick-insect (keranting) which is believed to be the embodiment of the “Malacca-cane spirit” (Hantu Samambu), by which last name it is most commonly called. These stick-insects are believed by the Selangor Malays to produce the sounds to which Mr. Wray refers, and in order to account for their peculiar character a story is told, the main features of which are as follows:—

Once upon a time a married couple fell out, and the husband surreptitiously introduced stones into the cooking-pot in place of the yams which his wife was cooking. Then he went off to climb for a cocoa-nut, and as he climbed, he mocked her by calling out “Masak belum? Masak belum?” (“Are they cooked yet? Are they cooked yet?”). What she did by way of retaliation is not clear, but as he climbed and mocked her, she is said to have retorted, “Panjat belum? Panjat belum?” (“Have you climbed it yet? Have you climbed it yet?”), a reply which clearly shows that her woman’s wit had been at work, and that she was not going to allow her husband to get the better of her.151 However this may be, a deadlock ensued, the result of which was that both parties were transformed into stick-insects, but were yet condemned to mock each other as they had done during the period of their human existence.

I have often from my boat, during dark nights on the Langat river, listened to the weird note which my Malays invariably ascribed to these insects, and which is not inaptly represented by one of the Malay names for them, viz. “belum-belam.” I have not yet, however, succeeded in identifying the real producer of the note, of which all I can say at present is, that although it may not be itself discoverable, the Malays look upon it as a certain guide to the localities where the Malacca-canes grow.

So too of the Tualang-tree Mr. Wray writes:—

“One of the largest and stateliest of the forest trees in Perak is that known as Toallong, or Toh Allong;152 it has a very poisonous sap, which produces great irritation when it comes in contact with the skin. Two Chinamen who had felled one of these trees in ignorance, had their faces so swelled and inflamed that they could not see out of their eyes, and had to be led about for some days before they recovered from the effects of the poison. Their arms, breasts, and faces were affected, and they presented the appearance of having a very bad attack of erysipelas. These trees are supposed to be the abiding-places of hantu, or spirits, when they have large hollow projections from the trunk, called rumah hantu, or spirit houses. These projections are formed when a branch gets broken off near the trunk, and are quite characteristic of the tree. There are sometimes three or four of them on a large tree, and the Malays have a great objection to cutting down any that are so disfigured, the belief being that if a man fells one he will die within the year. As a rule these trees are left standing when clearings are made, and they are a source of trouble and expense to planters and others, who object to their being left uncut.

“The following series of events actually happened:—A Malay named Panda Tambong undertook, against the advice of his friends, to fell one of the Toh Allong trees, and he almost immediately afterwards was taken ill with fever, and died in a few weeks’ time. Shortly after this some men were sitting plaiting ataps153 under the shade of another of these ill-omened trees, when, without any warning, a large branch fell down, breaking the arm of one man, and more or less injuring two others. There was not a breath of wind at the time, or anything else likely to determine the fall of the branch. After this it was decided to have the tree felled, as there were coolie houses nearly under it. There was great difficulty in getting any one to fell it. Eventually a Penang Malay undertook the job, but stipulated that a Pawang, or sorcerer, should be employed to drive away the demons first. The Pawang hung pieces of white and red cloth on sticks round the tree, burnt incense in the little contrivances made of the split leaf-stalks of the bertam palm, used by the Malays for that purpose, cut off the heads of two white fowls, sprinkled the blood over the trunk, and in the midst of many incantations the tree was felled without any mishap; but, strange to say, the Pawang, who was a haji154 and a slave-debtor of the Toh Puan Halimah, died about nine months afterwards.”155

There appears to be very little reason to doubt that the word Tualang (’Toh Alang or Sialang) is the name not of a particular species of tree, but rather the generic name of all trees in which wild bees have built their nests, so that in reality it simply means a “Bee-Tree.”

I have not yet succeeded in obtaining any of the Malay charms used by the collectors of these bees’ nests, except such as are used by Sakais under Malay influence on the Selangor coast, the Sakais being most usually the collectors. Some of these latter, however, were pure Malay charms, and may perhaps be considered, in the absence of charms collected from Malays, as evidence of at least secondary importance. One of these charms commences as follows:—

And another, which is almost word for word the same, as follows:—

It will be noticed that both refer to the Pulai-tree by name, and not to the Tualang. The footnote which I here quote with reference to the customs of Siak is, almost word for word, equally true of the Bee-Trees in Selangor.158

Other haunted trees (pokok berhantu) are the Jawi-jawi, the Jelotong, and Berombong, of which the following tradition will perhaps suffice:—

“All trees,” according to Malay tradition, “were planted by ‘the Prophet Elias,’159 and are in the ‘Prophet Noah’s’ charge. In the days of King Solomon, trees could speak as well as birds and animals, and several of the trees now to be seen in the forest are really metamorphosed human beings. Such are the ‘Jelotong’ and the ‘Berombong,’ which in the days of King Solomon were bosom friends, until there broke out between them an unfortunate quarrel, which terminated in ‘Si Jelotong’s’ lacing the skin of ‘Si Berombong’ all over with stabs from his dagger, the effect of which stabs remains visible to this day. Si Berombong, on the other hand, cursed Si Jelotong with his dying breath, praying that he might be turned into a tree without any buttresses to support his trunk, a prayer which was, of course, duly fulfilled. Thus originated the lack of buttresses at the base of the former tree, and the laced and slashed bark of the latter.”

Yet another tree whose spirit is the object, as it were, of a special cult,160 is the lime-tree, which is revered and looked up to almost as their chief patron by the theatrical players (orang ma’yong) of Penang. The invocations addressed to this spirit show that, as in most branches of magic, every part of the tree had its appropriate “alias.” Thus the root was called the “Seated Prince,” the trunk the “Standing Prince,” the bark the “Prince Stretching Himself,” the boughs the “Stabbing Prince,” the leaves the “Beckoning Prince,” the fruit the “Prince loosing an arrow.”

The following account of Eagle-wood and of the tree which produces it is quoted from the Journal of the Straits Asiatic Society:—

“In Crawfurd’s Dictionary of the Malay Archipelago161 I find the following:—‘Agila, the Eagle-wood of commerce.—Its name in Malay and Javanese is kalambak or kalambah, but it is also known in these languages by that of gharu or kayu gharu, gharu-wood, a corruption of the Sanskrit agahru.... There can be no doubt but that the perfumed wood is the result of disease in the tree that yields it, produced by the thickening of the sap into a gum or resin.’

“This ‘Eagle-wood of commerce,’ under its more familiar name gharu, is one of the rarest and most valuable products of our Malayan jungles, and the following notes may be of interest. They are the result of inquiries amongst the Malays and Pawangs in Ulu Muar and Johol, and I am indebted to Mr. L. J. Cazalas for much assistance in obtaining the information contained in them.

“The gharu-tree is a tall forest tree, sometimes reaching the size of fifteen feet in diameter. The bark is of a silvery gray colour, and the foliage close and dense, of a dark hue. The Malay name for the tree is “tabak,” and no other may be used by the Pawang when in search of the kayu gharu.162 Gharu, the diseased heart-wood of the tabak, is found in trees of all sizes, even in trees of one foot in diameter, thus showing that the disease attacks the tree at an early stage.

“The gharu is found in pockets, and may sometimes be discovered by the veins which run to these pockets. In other trees the veins are absent, which renders the process of searching more difficult. The tree is generally cut down and left to rot, which exposes the gharu in about six months.

“‘Pockets’ are found to contain as much as 104 catties; a single tree has been known to yield 400 catties.163 Gharu is seldom found in the sap-wood, generally in the heart-wood or teras.

“Many tabak-trees do not contain gharu at all. To select the right trees is the special province of the Pawang or wise man. The tabak-trees are under the care of certain hantu or wood-spirits, and it would be hopeless for the uninitiated to attempt to find gharu; even the Pawang has to be very careful.

“The following is the process as far as I have been able to ascertain it:—

“On the outskirts of the forest the Pawang must burn incense, and repeat the following charm or formula:—

“There is no “pantang gharu” except that the words “isi” and “tabak” must be used instead of “tras” and “gharu.”169

“He then proceeds to search for a likely tree, and upon finding one he again burns incense and repeats the spell as above. The tree having been cut down, the next thing is to separate the gharu from the sap-wood. The best way is to let the tree rot, but the Pawang is often “hard-up,” and does not mind wasting some of the gharu in his hurry to realise.

“The following are said to be the tests for finding gharu in a standing tree:—

• 1. The tree is full of knots. (Berbungkol.)
• 2. The bark full of moss and fungus. (Bertumuh berchandawan.)
• 3. Heart-wood hollow. (Berlobang.)
• 4. Bark peeling off. (Bergugor kulit.)
• 5. A clear space underneath. (Mengelenggang.)
• 6. Stumps jutting out. (Berchulak.)
• 7. Tree tapering. (Bertirus.)
• 8. The falling of the leaves in old trees.

“There are great differences in the quality of gharu, and great care is taken in classifying them. It requires a skilled man to distinguish between some of the varieties.

“The names are as follow:—

• 1. Chandan.170
• 2. Tandok.
• 3. Menjulong-ulong.171
• 4. Sikat.
• 5. Sikat Lampam.172
• 6. Bulu Rusa.
• 7. Kemandangan.
• 8. Wangkang.

“The chandan (pada tiada champur) is oily, black, and glistening. It sinks in water.

“The tadak very closely resembles the chandan.

“The menjulong-ulong may be distinguished from the chandan and the tandok by its length and small breadth. Splinters, 36 inches long, have been found evidently from veins, not pockets.173

“Sikat (bertabun champur kubal dan teras), fibrous, with slight lustre, will just float in water. Black and white streaks.

“Sikat lampam—the same as sikat, only white streaks more prominent.

“Bulu Rusa will float in water, fibrous, generally of a yellow colour.

“Kemandangan floats in water, whitish, fibrous fragments small.

“Wangkang floats in water, fibrous blocks whitish in colour.

“The chandan tree differs from other gharu-trees in having a maximum diameter of about 1½ feet, and very soft sap-wood.

“Gharu varies in price between 200 and 50 dollars a pikul174 according to the variety. The chandan and the tandok are the most valuable.

“Chinese and Malays burn it in their houses on high days and festivals—the latter generally take a supply with them on the pilgrimage to Mecca. The better varieties are used in the manufacture of aromatic oils.”175

Before setting out to search for gharu, the gharu-wizard burns incense and repeats these words, “O Grandsire Duita, Divinity of Eagle-wood, if you are far, be so good as to say so; if you are near, be so good as to say so,” and then sets out on his quest. On finding a karas-tree he chops the bark of the trunk lightly with his cutlass, and then puts his ear to the trunk to listen. If he hears a kind of low singing, or rather whispering noise (bunyi ting ting) in the tree, he takes this as a signification that the tree contains gharu (isi),176 and after marking the bark with a cross (silang ampat) he collects wood to build a temporary shelter (pondong) for himself, and when about to plant the first post repeats the following charm:—

The result of this invocation is, or should be, that the gharu-spirit appears to the wizard (generally, no doubt, in a dream), and informs him what kind of sacrifice he requires on this particular occasion. Whatever kind of sacrifice is asked for, must of course be given, with the exception of a human sacrifice which, as it is expressly stated, may be compounded by the sacrifice of a fowl.

When the tree has been felled you must be exceedingly careful to see that nobody passes between the end of the fallen trunk and the stump; whoever does so will surely be killed by the “eagle-wood spirit,” who is supposed to be extremely powerful and dangerous. I myself received a warning to this effect from some Labu Malays when I saw one of these trees felled. Malays maintain that men are frequently killed by this spirit (mati de’ Hantu Gharu), but that they may be recalled to life if the following recipe is acted upon:—“Take two ‘cubits’ (?) of ‘Panchong leaves’ (daun panchong dua heta), flowers of the sunting mambang, and ‘bullock’s eye’ limes (limau mata kerbau), squeeze [the limes(?)] and rub them over the corpse, saying, ‘Sir Allah! Sir Mangga Tangan! God’s Essence is in your heart (lit. liver). God’s attributes are in your eyes. Go and entertain the male Borer-Bee that is in your heart and liver.’ The dead man will then revive and stand upon his feet.”

The most important point about eagle-wood, however, from the animistic point of view, is the Pawang’s use of the gharu merupa, a strangely shaped piece of eagle-wood which possesses a natural resemblance to some animal or bird. It is believed to contain the soul of the tree, and therefore is always, when possible, carried by the collectors of eagle-wood in the belief that it will aid them in their search. I myself once owned one of these gharu merupa, which possessed a remarkable resemblance to a bird. This appears to me very fairly sufficient evidence to prove that the tree-soul is not supposed by the Malays necessarily to resemble a tree.177

The following account of the superstitious notions connected with the search for Camphor (kapur Barus) is extracted from a paper by Messrs. H. Lake and H. J. Kelsall178:—

“The chief interest attaching to the Kapur Barus in Johor lies in the superstitions connected with the collection of the camphor by the natives, or Orang Hulu.179

“Amongst these superstitions the most important is the use of a special language, the subject of the present paper, which has been the means of preserving some remnants of the aboriginal dialects of this part of the Malay Peninsula. This language is called by the Orang Hulu “Pantang Kapur”; pantang means forbidden or tabooed, and in this case refers to the fact that in searching for the camphor the use of the ordinary Malay language is pantang, or forbidden. In addition to this there are restrictions as to food, etc.

“This Camphor language is first referred to by Mr. Logan in his account of the aboriginal tribes of the Malay Peninsula,180 and he gives a list of eighty words, thirty-three of which are Malay or derived from Malay.”

“The Jakuns believe that there is a “bisan,” or spirit, which presides over the camphor-trees, and without propitiating this spirit it is impossible to obtain the camphor. This bisan makes at night a shrill noise, and when this sound is heard it is a sure sign that there are camphor-trees near at hand. (This bisan is really one of the Cicadas which are so numerous in the Malayan jungles.)

“When hunting for camphor the natives always throw a portion of their food out into the jungle before eating, as an offering to the bisan.

“No prayers are offered up, but all food must be eaten dry, i.e. without sumbul,181 or stewed fish, or vegetables. Salt must not be pounded fine; if it is eaten fine, the camphor when found will be in fine grains; but if eaten coarse the grains of camphor will be large. In rainy weather the cry of the bisan is not heard. At certain seasons regular parties of Jakuns, and sometimes Malays, go into the jungle to search for camphor, and they remain there as long as three or four months at a time. Not only must the men who go into the jungle to search for the camphor speak the ‘Pantang Kapur,’ but also the men and women left at home in the Kampongs.

“The camphor occurs in the form of small grains deposited in the cracks in the interior of the trunk of the tree. Camphor is only found in the older trees, and not in all of these, and to obtain it the tree must be cut down and split up. There are certain signs which indicate when a tree contains camphor, one of which is the smell emitted from the wood when chipped. A man who is skilled in detecting the presence of camphor is called Penghulu Kapur.182 The camphor when taken away from the tree is washed, and all chips of wood and dirt carefully removed, and it is then sold to Chinese traders at Kwala Indau at prices varying according to the quality from $15 to $40 per katti.

“The Camphor language consists in great part of words which are either Malay or of Malay origin, but contains, as above mentioned, a large number of words which are not Malay, but which are presumably remnants of the original Jakun dialects, which are apparently almost obsolete otherwise in the Indau and Sembrong districts of Johor.”183

The trees from which Gutta-percha is taken are also supposed to be inhabited by a spirit; but this, the Gutta-spirit, being far less dangerous than the Eagle-wood spirit, fewer precautions are taken in dealing with it. In the invocation addressed to the Gutta-spirit, the petitioner asks for the boon of a drop of the spirit’s blood, which of course is an indirect way of asking for the tree’s sap.

Here is a specimen of the charms used by the gutta-collectors:—

(Here the speaker notches the tree.)

The following instructions to be followed by toddy-collectors (who tap the Cocoa-nut palm for its juice, which is boiled into sugar) were given me by a Kelantan Malay (’Che ?Abas of Klanang):—

“When you are about to set foot against the base of the trunk (i.e. to start climbing) repeat these lines:—

Here climb half-way up and say:—

Here climb up among the leaf-stalks, lay hold of the central shoot, give it three shakes, and say—

Now commence by bending down one of the blossom-sheaths, lay hold of the central shoot, and thrice repeat the following lines:—

(Here the speaker addresses the soul (or rather souls) of the tree.)

The following rules have an evident bearing upon the subject of vegetable animism. They were collected at Langat, in Selangor:—

The time to plant Sugar-cane is at noon: this will make it sweeter, by drying up the juice and leaving the saccharine matter. If you plant it in the early morning its joints will be too long, if in the middle of the day they will be short.

Plant Maize with a full stomach, and let your dibble be thick, as this will swell the maize ear.

For Plantains (or Bananas) you must dig a big hole, and the evening is the time to plant them. The evening is the quicker, and if planted after the evening meal they fill out better.

Plant Sweet Potatoes on a starry night to ensure their filling out properly (by getting plenty of eyes?)

Plant Cucumbers and Gourds on a dark moonless night, to prevent them from being seen and devoured by fire-flies (api-api).

Plant Cocoa-nuts when the stomach is overburdened with food (kalau kita ’nak sangat berak); run quickly and throw the cocoa-nut into the hole prepared for it without straightening the arm; if you straighten it the fruit-stalk will break. Plant them in the evening, so that they may bear fruit while they are still near the ground. When you pick seed cocoa-nuts off the tree somebody should stand at the bottom of the tree and watch whether the “monkey-face” of each seed cocoa-nut, as it is thrown down, turns either towards himself or the base of the tree, or whether it looks away from both. In the former case the seed will be good, in the latter it is not worth planting.

Plant Rice in the early morning, about five, because that is the hour at which infants (the Rice Soul being considered as an infant) get up.

The most important contribution of the Malays to the animistic theory of vegetation is perhaps to be found in the many strange ceremonies with which they surround the culture of Rice. In order to properly understand the significance of these ceremonies, however, a proper understanding of the Malay system of rice-planting is essential, and I therefore quote in extenso a description of rice-culture, which possesses the additional interest of being translated from the composition of a Malay:186—

“It is the established custom in Malacca territory to plant rice once a year, and the season for doing so generally falls about the month of Zilka?idah or Zilhijah.187

“In starting planting operations, however, the object is, if possible, to coincide with the season when the West wind blows, because at that time there are frequent rains, and accordingly the earth of the rice-field becomes soft and easy to plough. Moreover, in planting rice it is an invariable rule that there must be water in the field, in order that the rice may sprout properly; though, on the other hand, if there is too great a depth of water the rice is sure to die. It has also been observed that as a rule the season of the West wind coincides with the fourth month188 of the Chinese calendar, and sometimes also with the month of Zilka?idah or Zilhijah.189

“2. In olden time the order of planting operations was as follows:—First, the elders had to hold a consultation with the Pawang; then the date was fixed; then Maulud190 prayers were read over the ‘mother-seed,’ and benzoin, (incense) supplied by the Pawang, was burned; then all the requisites for rice-planting were got ready, viz.:—

• “(1) A strong buffalo (to pull the plough).
• (2) A plough with its appurtenances (to turn over the earth and the short weeds).
• (3) A harrow with its appurtenances (to level and break up small the clods of earth left by the plough).
• (4) A roller with its appurtenances (to knock down the long weeds, such as sedges, in fields that have lain fallow for a long while).
• (5) A wood-cutter’s knife, to mend any of the implements that may get out of order at the time of ploughing.
• (6) A hoe to repair the embankments and level the higher grounds.
• (7) A scythe191 to cut the long weeds.
• (8) And a whip to urge the buffalo on if he is lazy.

“3. When the proper season has arrived for beginning the work of planting, and the elders have come to an agreement with the Pawang, then on some Friday after the service in the Mosque the Penghulu addresses all the people there present, saying that on such a day of the month every one who is to take part in rice-cultivation must bring to the Mosque half a quart of grain (for ‘mother-seed’) in order that Maulud prayers may be read over it. (At that time ketupats192 and lepats193 are prepared for the men who are to read those prayers.)

“When the Maulud prayers are over, every man goes down to the rice-field, if possible on the same day or the next one, in order to begin ploughing the nursery plot, that is, the plot which is near his house or in which he has been in the habit of sowing the seed every year.

“But if a man has a great number of plots, he will begin by ploughing half of them, and then at the end of the month of Zilhijah he must diligently prepare the nursery plot so as to be ready in about ten days’ time.

“4. Before sowing one must first of all lay out the grain, both the seed-grain and the ‘mother-seed,’ each separately, to dry. It must then be soaked in a vessel (a bucket or pot) for two days and two nights, after which it is taken out, strained and spread quite evenly on a mat with fresh leaves (areca-nut fronds are best), and every afternoon one must sprinkle water on it in order that the germ may quickly break through, which will happen probably in two days’ time or thereabouts.

“5. While the seed is soaking, the nursery plot must be carefully prepared; that is to say, it must be ploughed over again, harrowed, levelled, ditched, and the soil allowed to settle; the embankments must be mended, and the surface made smooth. When the germs have sprouted the seed is taken to the nursery plot. Benzoin supplied by the Pawang is burnt, and the plot sprinkled with tepong tawar.194 Then a beginning is made by sowing the ‘chief of the seed,’ i.e. ‘mother-seed,’ in one corner of the nursery prepared for the purpose, and about two yards square; afterwards the rest of the seed is sown all over the plot. It is well to sow when the plot contains plenty of water, so that all the germs of the seed may be uppermost, and the roots may not grow long, but may be pulled up easily. The time for sowing must be during the dark half of the month, so that the seedlings may be preserved from being eaten by insects.195

“Three days after the seed is sown the young shoots begin to rise like needles, and at that time all the water should be drawn off the plot; after seven days they are likened to a sparrow’s tail, and about the tenth or fifteenth day they break out into blades. At that period the water is again let into the plot, little by little, in order that the stalks of the seedlings may grow thick.

“The seedlings have to remain in the nursery for at least forty or forty-four days from the time of sowing before they are sufficiently grown; it is best to let them remain till they are about seventy days old.

“6. While the seedlings are in the nursery the other plots are being ploughed, one after another; and this is called the first ploughing. Then the embankments are mended and re-formed with earth, so that the water in the field may not escape and leave it dry. After the embankments have been mended the harrowing begins: a start is made with the plot that was first ploughed (other than the nursery plot), for there the earth will have become soft, and the weeds being rotten after many days of soaking in the water will form a sort of manure. Each plot is so dealt with in its turn. Then all have to be ploughed once more (which is called the second ploughing) and harrowed again; for the first harrowing merely breaks up the clods of earth, and a second is required to reduce them to a fine state and to kill the weeds. Most people, having first used an iron harrow, use a wooden one for the second harrowing, in order that the earth may be broken up quite fine. Their rice is sure to thrive better than that of people who are less careful; for in rice-planting, as the saying goes, there is ‘the plighted hope of good that is to come,’ in the way of bodily sustenance I mean. So day by day the different plots are treated in the way that has been described in connection with the nursery plot in paragraph 5 above.

“7. When the seedling rice has been in the nursery long enough, and the fields are clean and ready for planting (which will be about the month of Safar, or August) the seedlings are pulled up and tied together with strips of dried palas196 leaves into bundles of the size known as sachekak (i.e. the space enclosed by the thumb and the index finger when their ends meet). If the roots and blades are long the ends can be clipped a little, and the roots are then steeped in manure. This manure is made of buffalo bones burnt with chaff till they are thoroughly calcined, and then pounded fine, passed through a sieve and mixed with mud: that is the best kind of manure for rice-planting, and is known as ‘stock manure.’ (It can also be applied by merely scattering it in the fields. In that case, after cutting off the ends of the blades, the seedlings are planted, and afterwards, when they are green again and appear to be thriving, the manure is scattered over the whole field. There are some places, too, where no manure at all is used because of the perennial richness of the soil.)

“Afterwards the seedlings are allowed to remain exposed to the air for about two nights, and then taken to the field to be planted. The bundles are broken up, and bunches of four or five plants together are planted at intervals of a span all over the different plots till all are filled up. If there are very many plots, ten or fifteen female labourers can be engaged to assist in planting, and likewise in pulling up the seedlings, at a wage of four cents for every hundred bundles.

“8. Ten days after the young rice has been transplanted it recovers its fresh green colour; in thirty days the young shoots come out; in the second month it increases more and more, and in the third it becomes even all over. After three months and a half its growth is stayed, and in the fourth month it is styled bunting kechil.

“At that stage the stalk has only five joints, and from that period it must be fumigated daily till the grain appears.

“About the time when the stalk has six joints it is called bunting besar; in forty days more the grain is visible here and there, and twenty days later it spreads everywhere. At this time all the water in the field must be drawn off so that the grain may ripen quickly. After five or six days it ripens in patches, and a few days later the rice is altogether ripe.

“From the time of transplanting to the time when it is ripe is reckoned six months, not counting the days spent in ploughing and in growing it in the nursery, which may be a month or two, or even (if there are many plots) as much as three months to the end of the ploughing.

“9. When one wishes to begin reaping the grain one must first have the Pawang’s permission, and burn benzoin supplied by him in the field.

“The following implements must be got ready, viz.:—

“(1) A small basket to hold the rice cut first, known as the ‘Soul of the Rice’ (semangat padi).

(2) A jari lipan197 to put round the small basket.

(3) A string of terap198 bark to tie up the rice that is cut first.

(4) A small stem of bamboo, of the variety known as buloh kasap, with a flag attached, which is to be planted in the small basket as a sign of the ‘Soul of the Rice’ that has been cut first.

(5) A small white cloth to wrap up the ‘Soul of the Rice.’

(6) An anchak199 to hold the brasier.

(7) A brasier, in which to burn the incense provided by the Pawang.

(8) A nail and a kind of nut, known as buah keras,200 to be put into the anchak together with the brasier.

“When the rice is ripe all over, one must first take the ‘Soul’ out of all the plots of one’s field. You choose the spot where the rice is best and where it is ‘female’ (that is to say, where the bunch of stalks is big) and where there are seven joints in the stalk. You begin with a bunch of this kind and clip seven stems to be the ‘soul of the rice’; and then you clip yet another handful to be the ‘mother-seed’ for the following year. The ‘Soul’ is wrapped in a white cloth tied with a cord of terap bark, and made into the shape of a little child in swaddling clothes, and put into the small basket. The ‘mother-seed’ is put into another basket, and both are fumigated with benzoin, and then the two baskets are piled the one on the other and taken home, and put into the kepuk (the receptacle in which the rice is stored).

“10. One must wait three days (called the pantang tuai) before one may clip or cut any more of the rice. At first only one or two basketfuls of rice are cut; the rice is dried in the sun, winnowed in a winnowing basket, and cleaned in a fanning machine, pounded to free it from the husk, so that it becomes beras (husked rice), and then boiled so that it becomes nasi (cooked rice), and people are invited to feast on it.

“11. Then a bucket is made for the purpose of threshing the rest of the rice, and a granary built to keep it in while it remains in the field, and five or six labourers are engaged to reap and thresh it (banting).201 Their hours of working are from 6 to 11.30 A.M., and all the rice they thresh they put into the granary.

“12. If the crop is a good one a gallon of seed will produce a hundredfold. Each plot in a field takes about a gallon of seed.

“13. When the rice has all been cut it is winnowed in order to get rid of the chaff, and then laid out in the sun till quite dry, so that it may not get mouldy if kept for a year.

“Then the wages of the labourers are taken out of it at the rate of two gallons out of every ten. When that is settled, if the rice is not to be sold, it is taken home and put into the rice-chest.

“Whenever you want to eat of it, you take out a basketful at a time and dry it in the sun. Then you turn it in the winnowing basket, and clean it in the fanning machine, pound it to convert it into beras, and put a sufficiency of it in a pot and wash it. Enough water is then poured over it to cover it, and it is put on the kitchen fire till it is boiled and becomes nasi, when it can be eaten.

“14. The custom of reaping with a sickle (sabit) and threshing the rice as described in paragraph 11 is a modern method, and is at present mainly practised by the people living in the neighbourhood of the town of Malacca, in order to get the work done quickly; but in olden times it was not allowed, and even to this day the people who live in the inland parts of the territory of Malacca prefer to clip their rice with a tuai,202 and put it into their baskets a handful at a time [i.e. without threshing it]. (If labourers are employed to do this their wage is one-tenth of the rice cut.) It takes ever so many days to get the work done, but the idea is that this method is the pious one, the ‘Soul of the Rice’ not being disturbed thereby. A good part of the people hold this belief, and assert that since the custom of threshing the rice has been introduced, the crops have been much less abundant than in years of olden time when it was the custom to use the tuai only.

“15. If a man has broad fields so that he is unable to plant them all by his own labour, he will often allow another to work them on an agreement, either of equal division of the produce (each bearing an equal share of the hire of a buffalo and all other expenses incidental to rice-planting), or of threefold division (that is, for example, the owner bears all expenses, in which case the man who does the work can get a third of the produce; or the latter bears all expenses, in which case the owner only gets a third of the produce). Or again, the land can be let; for instance, a field which ordinarily produces a koyan203 of rice a year will fetch a rent of about two hundred gallons more or less.

“16. Every cultivator who does not act in accordance with the ordinance laid down in paragraphs 9 and 10 above, will be in the same case as if he disregarded all the prohibitions laid down in connection with planting. If a man does not carry out this procedure he is sure to fail in the end; his labour will be in vain and will not fulfil his desires, for the virtue of all these ordinances and prohibitions lies in the fact that they protect the rice, and drive away all its enemies, such as grubs, rats, swine, and the like.”204

I will now deal with the ceremonies indicated in the foregoing article from the ceremonial point of view exclusively.

The ceremony to be observed at the sowing of the rice-seed was thus described to me by the Pawang who performed the reaping ceremony described below:—

“First arrange four poles upon the ground, so as to form a rectangular frame (galang dapor), in the middle of the clearing. Then plant in succession at the four corners—

• “1. A young banana-tree.
• 2. A plant of lemon grass (serai).
• 3. A stem of sugar-cane (of the kind called lanjong).
• 4. A plant of saffron (kunyit).

Perform the operation carefully, so that they are all likely to live.

“In the centre of the ground enclosed by the frame deposit a cocoa-nut shell full of water.

“Early next morning go out and observe the omens. If the frame has moved aside (berkuak) ever so little, or if the water has been spilt, it is a bad omen. But if not, and if the water in the cocoa-nut shell has not been spilt, or if a black ant (semut) or a white ant (anei-anei) is found in the water, it is a good sign.

“When good omens have been obtained, proceed by planting rice-seed in seven holes with a dibble of satambun wood, repeating the following charm:—

The following account (by Mr. C. O. Blagden) of the ceremony of planting out the young rice (from the rice-nursery) appeared in the Journal of the Straits Asiatic Society in 1896:—

“In agricultural operations the animistic ideas of the Malays are clearly apparent: thus, before the rice is cut a sort of ritual is performed which is known as puji padi, and which is regarded, apparently, as a kind of propitiatory service, a sort of apology to the padi (rice) for reaping it. The padi is usually sprinkled with tepong tawar (flour mixed with water) before the reaping is commenced, and the first lot cut is set apart for a ceremonial feast.

“At planting there are also ceremonies: as a rule the beginning of the planting season is ushered in by a visit of the whole body of villagers to the most highly revered kramat in the neighbourhood, where the usual offerings are made and prayers are said. Sometimes, however, there is a special service known as bapua,206 consisting of a sort of mock combat, in which the evil spirits are believed to be expelled from the rice-fields by the villagers: this is not done every year, but once in three or four years.

“Another occasional service of a peculiar character, which is not of very frequent occurrence, is the ceremony which would perhaps be best described as the propitiation of the earth-spirit. Some years ago I happened, by chance, to be present at a function of this kind, and as its details may be of some interest as illustrating the wide dispersion of certain points of ritual, I will end these notes by giving a full description of it as noted down at the time. It was in the month of October, and I happened to be out shooting snipe in the padi-fields of the village of Sebatu on a Sunday morning, when I was met by the Penghulu, the headman of the village, who asked me to leave off shooting for an hour or so. As I was having fair sport, I naturally wanted to know the reason why, so he explained that the noise of gunshots would irritate the hantu, and render unavailing the propitiatory service which was then about to begin. Further inquiry elicited the statement that the hantu in question was the one who presided over rice-lands and agricultural operations, and as I was told that there would be no objection to my attending the ceremony, I went there and then to the spot to watch the proceedings. The place was a square patch of grass-lawn a few yards wide, which had evidently for years been left untouched by the plough, though surrounded by many acres of rice-fields. On this patch a small wooden altar had been built: it consisted simply of a small square platform of wood or bamboo raised about three or four feet above the ground, each corner being supported by a small sapling with the leaves and branches left on it and overshadowing the platform, the sides of which appeared to face accurately towards the four cardinal points. To the western side was attached a small bamboo ladder leading from the ground to the edge of the platform. At the four corners of the patch of grass were four larger saplings planted in the ground. On the branches of all these trees were hung a number of ketupats, which are small squarish bags plaited of strips of the leaves of the screw-pine (mengkuang) or some similar plant, like the material of which native bags and mats are made. A larger ketupat hung over the centre of the altar, and all of them were filled with a preparation of boiled rice. On the altar were piled up various cooked foods laid on plantain leaves, including the flesh of a goat cooked in the ordinary way, as well as rice and different kinds of condiments and sweetmeats. The Pawang was present as well as a number of the villagers, and soon after my arrival with the Penghulu the ceremony began by some of the villagers producing out of a bag the skin of a black male goat with the head and horns attached and containing the entrails (the flesh having been cooked and laid on the altar previously). A large iron nail four or five inches long, and thick in proportion, was placed vertically in a hole about two feet deep which had been dug under the altar, and the remains of the goat were also buried in it, with the head turned towards the east, the hole being then closed and the turf replaced. Some of the goat’s blood, in two cocoa-nut shells (tempurong), was placed on the ground near the south side and south-west corner of the altar close to the ladder.

“The Pawang, after assisting at these preliminaries, then took his stand at the west side of the altar, looking eastward: he covered his head, but not his face, with his sarong wrapped round it like a shawl, and proceeded to light a torch, the end of which was tipped with incense (kemenyan). With this he touched the bottom of the altar platform four times. He then took a cup of tepong tawar and dipped in it a small bundle of four kinds of leaves, with which he then sprinkled the north-west and south-east corners of the platform. He then coughed three times—whether this was part of the ritual, or a purely incidental occurrence, I am unable to say, as it was not practicable to stop the ceremony for the purpose of asking questions—and again applied the torch under the altar and sprinkled with tepong tawar all the corners of it, as well as the rungs of the ladder.

“At this stage of the proceedings four men stationed in the rice-field beyond the four corners of the patch of turf, each threw a ketupat diagonally across to one another, while the rest of the assembly, headed by the Penghulu, chanted the kalimah, or Muhammadan creed, three times.

“Then a man holding a large bowl started from a point in the rice-field just outside the north side of the patch of turf, and went round it (first in a westerly direction). As he walked, he put handfuls of the rice into his mouth and spat or vomited them out, with much noise, as if to imitate violent nausea, into the field. He was followed closely by another who also held a bowl filled with pieces of raw tapioca root and beras bertih (rice roasted in a peculiar way),207 which he threw about into the field. Both of them went right round the grass plot. The Pawang then took his cup of tepong tawar and sprinkled the anak padi, that is, the rice-shoots which were lying in bundles along the south and east sides of the altar ready for planting. Having sprinkled them he cut off the ends, as is usually done; and after spitting to the right and to the left, he proceeded to plant them in the field. A number of others then followed his lead and planted the rest of the rice-plants, and then a sweetmeat made of cocoa-nut and sugar was handed round, and Muhammadan prayers were said by some duly qualified person, an orang ?alim or a lebei, and the ceremony was concluded.

“It was explained to me that the blood and the food were intended for the hantu, and the ladder up to the altar was for his convenience; in fact the whole affair was a propitiatory service, and offers curious analogies with the sacrificial ceremonials of some of the wild aboriginal tribes of Central India who have not been converted to Hinduism or Islam. That it should exist in a Malay community within twenty miles of the town of Malacca, where Muhammadanism has been established for about six208 centuries, is certainly strange. Its obvious inconsistency with his professed religion does not strike the average Malay peasant at all. It is, however, the fact that these observances are not regarded with much favour by the more strictly Muhammadan Malays of the towns, and especially by those that are partially of Arab descent. These latter have not much influence in country districts, but privately I have heard some of them express disapproval of such rites and even of the ceremonies performed at kramats. According to them, the latter might be consistent with Muhammadan orthodoxy on the understanding that prayers were addressed solely to the Deity; but the invocation of spirits or deceased saints and their propitiation by offerings could not be regarded as otherwise than polytheistic idolatry. Of course such a delicate distinction—almost as subtle as that between dulia and latria in the Christian worship of saints—is entirely beyond the average Malay mind; and everything is sanctioned by immemorial custom, which in an agricultural population is more deeply-rooted than any book-learning; so these rites are likely to continue for some time, and will only yield gradually to the spread of education. Such as they are, they seem to be interesting relics of an old-world superstition.

“I have mentioned only a few such points, and only such as have been brought directly to my knowledge; there are hosts of other quaint notions, such as the theory of lucky and unlucky days and hours, on which whole treatises have been written, and which regulate every movement of those who believe in them; the belief in amulets and charms for averting all manner of evils, supernatural and natural; the practice during epidemics of sending out to sea small elaborately constructed vessels which are supposed to carry off the malignant spirits responsible for the disease (of which I remember a case a few years ago in the village of Sempang, where the beneficial effect was most marked); the widespread belief in the power of menuju, that is, doing injury at a distance by magic, in which the Malays believe the wild junglemen especially to be adepts; the belief in the efficacy of forms of words as love-charms and as a protection against spirits and wild beasts—in fact, an innumerable variety of superstitious ideas exist among Malays.”209

On the 28th January 1897 I witnessed (at Chodoi, in the Kuala Langat district of Selangor) the ceremony of fetching home the Rice-soul.

Time of Ceremony.—I arrived at the house belonging to the Malay owner of the rice-field a little past 8 A.M., the hour at which the ceremony was to take place having been fixed at angkat kening (about 9 A.M.) a few days previously. On my arrival I found the Pawang (sorceress), an aged Selangor woman, seated in front of the baskets required for the ceremony.210

Accessories.—At her extreme left stood one of the circular brass trays with high sides which are called dulang by the Malays, containing the following objects:—

• 1. A small bowl of “parched rice” (b’ras ber’tih).
• 2. A small bowl of “saffron rice” (b’ras kunyit).
• 3. A small bowl of “washed rice” (b’ras basoh).
• 4. A small bowl of “oil of frankincense.”
• 5. A small bowl of “oil of Celebes” (minyak Bugis).
• 6. A small bowl of “incense” (kem’nyan).
• 7. A small bundle of incense (in addition to the bowl).
• 8. One of the hard jungle-nuts called buah k’ras (the candle-nut).
• 9. One of the shells called k’rang (a cockle shell).
• 10. A hen’s egg.
• 11. A stone (a small block of quartz).
• 12. A large iron nail.
• 13 to 15. Three Malay reaping instruments (penuwei).211

Close to the dulang stood a cocoa-nut shell filled with the tepong tawar, which plays so prominent a part in Malay magic ceremonies, and a brush made up of the leaves of seven different plants, bound up as usual with a cord of kulit t’rap (the bark of the Wild Breadfruit), and ribu-ribu (a kind of small creeper). The plants which supplied the leaves of which the brush was composed, were as follows:—

1. Sapenoh. 2. Sapanggil. 3. Jenjuang (or lenjuang) merah (the Red DracÆna). 4. Gandarusa. 5. Pulut-pulut. 6. Selaguri. 7. Sambau dara (a kind of grass).

But the most interesting object was a small oval-shaped basket bound with the ribu-ribu creeper, and about fourteen inches long, which was standing just in front of the three rice-baskets and close to the Pawang, and which, as I afterwards found out, was intended to serve as the cradle of the Rice-soul (or “Rice-baby”). I examined it, however, and found that as yet it only contained the following objects:—

• 1. A strip of white cloth (folded up and lying at the bottom of the basket).
• 2. Some parti-coloured thread (benang panchawarna or pancharona).
• 3. A hen’s egg.
• 4. One of the hard jungle-nuts (candle-nuts) already referred to.
• 5. A cockle shell (k’rang).
• 6. A long iron nail.
• 7. Five cubits of red cloth by means of which the soul-basket was to be slung round the neck of its bearer. (The correcter custom would require an expensive cloth of the kind called jong sarat, or the “Loaded Junk,” according to my informant the Pawang.)

Three new Malay skirts or sarongs were added, (one to each basket), and everything being ready, the various receptacles described above were entrusted to five female bearers (Penjawat), who descended from the house, with the Pawang at their head, and set out for the rice-field. Before they had gone many yards they were joined by the owner of the field, who walked in front of them bearing what was called the junjongan padi. This was the stem and leaves of a dark red kind of sugar-cane, which was used in substitution for the black or “raven” variety (tebu gagak) which, the Pawang explained, would have been used in preference if it had been obtainable. Meanwhile the procession passed on, and the Pawang repeated as we went the following prayer to the spirits:—

On reaching the rice the procession filed through a lane already made in the rice, until the “mother-sheaf” was reached from which the Rice-soul was to be taken. But immediately on arriving at the spot, and before depositing the rice-baskets on the ground, the Pawang repeated these lines:—

Here the baskets were deposited, and the Pawang took up her station in front of the mother-sheaf, of which mention has just been made.

Covering her head with a flowing white cloth of which the ends fell upon her shoulders, the Pawang now stood up facing the sheaf, and waved the ends of this cloth thrice upward to the right, thrice upward to the left, and finally thrice upward to the right again. Then for a few moments she stood still, close to the sheaf with her head bent forward and buried among the ears, after which she reseated herself and dabbled the tepong tawar thrice upon the roots of the sheaf. One of the female bearers now planted the stem of the sugar-cane upright in the centre of the sheaf,213 whilst the Pawang sprinkled it with the tepong tawar, and then holding the sharpened end of it over the incense, fumigated it, saying:—

Here the Pawang and Penjawat (Female Bearer), together proceeded to plant the sugar-cane in the centre of the sheaf, and (pressing the sheaf more tightly round the sugar-cane) drew the waist of the sheaf together and belted it with some of the outer stems of the sheaf itself; then the Pawang applied the tepong tawar once more to the sheaf, and after fumigating it in the usual manner, ran her hands up it. Next she took in one hand (out of the brass tray) the stone and the egg, cockle-shell and candle-nut, and with the other planted the big iron nail in the centre of the sheaf close to the foot of the sugar-cane. Then she took in her left hand the cord of tree-bark, and after fumigating it, together with all the vessels of rice and oil, took up some of the rice and strewed it round about the sheaf, and then tossed the remainder thrice upwards, some of it falling upon the rest of the company and myself.

This done, she took the end of the cord in both hands, and encircling the sheaf with it near the ground, drew it slowly upward to the waist of the sheaf, and tied it there, after repeating what is called the “Ten Prayers” (do?a sapuloh) without once taking breath:—

This prayer completed,215 she dug up with the great toe of the left foot a small lump of soil, and picking it up, deposited it in the centre of the sheaf.

Next she took the contents of the soul-basket (the egg and stone, candle-nut and shell as before), and after anointing them with oil and fumigating them, replaced them in the basket; then taking the penuwei sulong (“Eldest Rice-cutter”), anointed the blade with the oil of frankincense, and inserting the thumb of the right hand into her mouth, pressed it for several moments against the roof of her palate. On withdrawing it she proceeded to cut the first seven “heads” of rice, repeating “the Ten Prayers” as she did so. Then she put the seven “heads” together, and kissed them; turned up the whites of her eyes thrice, and thrice contracting the muscles of her throat with a sort of “click,” swallowed the water in her mouth.216 Next she drew the small white cloth which she took from the soul-basket for the purpose across her lap, and laying the little bundle of seven ears in it, anointed them with oil and tied them round with parti-coloured thread (benang panchawarna), after which she fumigated them with the incense, and strewing rice of each kind over them, folded the ends of the cloth over them, and deposited them as before in the basket, which was handed to the first bearer. Then standing up, she strewed more rice over the sheaf, and tossing some backwards over her head, threw the remainder over the rest of the party, saying “tabek” (“pardon”) as she did so, and exclaiming “kur semangat, kur semangat, kur semangat!” (“cluck, cluck, soul!”) in a loud voice. Next she pushed the cocoa-nut shell (which had contained the tepong tawar) into the middle of the sheaf, and removed all traces of the lane which had been trodden round the sheaf (to make it accessible) by bending down the surrounding ears of rice until the gap was concealed.

Then the First Bearer, slinging the basket of the Rice-child about her neck (by means of the red cloth before referred to), took an umbrella217 from one of the party, and opened it to shield the Rice-child from the effects of the sun, and when the Pawang had reseated herself and repeated an Arabic prayer (standing erect again at the end of it with her hands clasped above her head), this part of the ceremony came to an end. Moving on to another part of the field, the Pawang now cut the next seven “heads” and deposited them in one of the three rice-baskets, which she then handed to one of the female bearers, telling her and her two companions to reap the field in parallel straight lines facing the sun, until they had filled the three rice-baskets, after which they were to return to the house. Leaving the three reapers at their task, I followed the Pawang and Eldest Bearer (the latter still shielding the Rice-child from the sun with the umbrella) and arrived in time to witness the reception of the party as they reached the foot of the house-ladder. Here (on the threshold) we were met by the wife of the owner, and other women of his family, the former thrice calling out as we approached, “Apa khabar?” (“What news?”), and thrice receiving the reply, “Baik” (“It is well”). On receiving this reply for the third time she threw saffron-rice over the Pawang and repeated these lines:—

To which the Pawang immediately replied:—

And the bearer of the Rice-child added—doubtless on the Rice-child’s behalf:—

She then entered the house and laid the Rice-child (still in its basket) on a new sleeping-mat with pillows at the head. About twenty minutes later the three Bearers returned,218 each of their rice-baskets covered with a sarong. These baskets were carried into the bedroom and deposited in order of size on the mat at the foot of the soul-basket, the largest basket being the nearest to the soul-basket. Finally, the Pawang removed the sarongs which covered each basket and deposited them on the Rice-child’s pillow, and sticking the “penuweis” into her hair, fumigated the entire row of baskets and the Rice-child, and covered them over with the long white cloth, after which the wife of the master of the house was told to observe certain rules of taboo for three days.

The following were the taboos imposed upon her:—

• 1. Money, rice, salt, oil, tame animals, etc., were forbidden to leave the house, though they might enter it without ill consequences.
• 2. Perfect quiet must be observed, as in the case of a new-born child.
• 3. Hair might not be cut.
• 4. The reapers, till the end of the reaping, were forbidden to let their shadows fall upon the rice. (Yang menuwei sampei habis menuwei, tiada buleh menindeh bayang.)
• 5. The light placed near the head of the Rice-child’s bed might not be allowed to go out at night, whilst the hearth-fire might not be allowed to go out at all, night or day, for the whole three days.

The above taboos are in many respects identical with those which have to be observed for three days after the birth of a real child.

I may add that every day, when the reapers start their reaping, they have to repeat the following charm:—

When reaping, they must cover their heads and must face the sun, no matter what hour of the day it is, in order to prevent their own shadows from falling upon the rice in the basket at their side.

Pounding the first of the padi.—I witnessed this ceremony three days later, at about 9 A.M. The three baskets filled with the first reapings were removed from the mat on which they had been placed, and their contents emptied out upon a new mat, to each corner of which four rice-ears were tied, and trodden out (di-irekkan) by the owner of the field. Then the rice was poured back into two of the baskets, and the straw of the rice “heads” was plaited into a wreath.219

Drying the first of the padi.—Preparations being complete, the two baskets full of newly-cut rice were carried down the steps and out to an open part of the field, a little way from the house, and there spread on a mat in the sun to dry. To spread it properly is not an easy matter, the operator (who in this case was the owner), standing on the mat and spreading the grains with a long sweeping motion of the hand from one side of the mat to the other (the process being called di-kekar, di-kachau, or membalikkan jemoran). In the present case several objects were placed in the centre of the mat, consisting of—

• 1. A basket-work stand (one of those used for the cooking-pots, and called lekar jantan).
• 2. A bowl of water deposited upon this stand and intended “for the Rice-soul (semangat padi) to drink when it becomes thirsty with the heat of the sun.”
• 3. A big iron nail.
• 4. A candle-nut (buah k’ras).
• 5. Six trodden-out rice “heads,” a couple of which tied in a slip knot (simpul pulih) are fastened to each corner of the matting.

Pounding of the rice from the three baskets.—When the rice had been sufficiently dried, it was once more collected in the baskets, and carried back to the house to be pounded.220 That operation took place the same evening, when the rice was pounded and winnowed221 in the ordinary way, the only noteworthy addition being the tying of bunches of the grass called sambau dara to the upper ends of the long wooden pestles which the Malays use for the pounding operation.

Disposal of the empty rice-stalks from the three baskets.—The chaff thus obtained was deposited in a heap by the owner of the field in a place where three paths met, crowned with a wreath made of the empty rice-stalks, and covered by a big stone which was intended, I was told, to keep it from being blown away.

The sugar-cane was left to grow in the midst of the mother-sheaf, until the latter should be reaped by the wife of the owner; when this takes place, it is carried back to the house and used for next year’s reaping. Meanwhile the “heads” of the mother-sheaf are pounded, and the grain thus obtained is mixed with the grain obtained from the Rice-soul, and deposited in the rice-bin (kepok) together with a stone, a lump of rosin (damar), and a wreath composed of the empty rice-ears. I may add that I saw the articles which had been deposited in the previous year in the rice-bin of the Malay at whose house I witnessed the ceremony which I have just described.

I did not witness the preliminary search for the mother-sheaf (in which the Rice-soul was supposed to be contained), but it was described to me by the Pawang, and performed for my benefit by the people of the house. The Pawang’s description ran as follows: In order to confine the “Rengkesa” (a Spectral Reaper) to the boundaries, visit the four corners of the field, and at each corner tie a knot in a rice-leaf, and hold your breath while you repeat the following charm:—

These noxious spirits being thus confined to the Four Corners, you may search in safety till you find one of the special varieties of rice-ear in which the Rice-soul resides.

There are several varieties, of which the best is called Tongkat Mandah; it may be described as an ordinary “rice-head” bending over to meet the tip of a second (adventitious) “rice-head,” but it is produced only by a freak of nature. There is some risk connected with this variety, however, for if the “Reception (Sambut) Ceremony” is not properly performed the owner will die. The second best is called “The Kite” (Lang). The third best is called “The Veiled Princess” (Putri Bertudong); in this case the sheath of the “head” is of unusual length, and overshadows the “head” itself. A fourth kind is called Padi Bertel’kum, and is described as a “Female Rice” (padi betina); like the “Veiled Princess,” it has an unusually well-developed sheath; whilst a fifth kind is the “Padi Mendhara”—a rice-plant whose leaves show white lines or markings.

How women should reap on ordinary occasions.—Whenever women go out to reap they should repeat certain charms before leaving the house,222 and again before depositing their baskets on the ground. Their heads should be covered, and they should always be careful to reap, as has been said, facing the sun, to prevent their shadow from falling upon the rice in the basket at their side. Occasionally, however, the body is uncovered, and I was even told of one, Inche Fatimah of Jugra, in Selangor, who when reaping stripped herself bare from the waist upwards, and when asked why she did so said it was “to make the rice-husks thinner, as she was tired of pounding thick-husked rice.”

The sheaf which is left standing after the taking home of the Rice-soul is called the Mother of the Rice-soul (Ibu Semangat Padi), and treated as a newly-made mother; that is to say, young shoots of trees (putik-putik kayu) are taken, pounded together (di-tumbok), and scattered broadcast (di-tabor) every evening for three successive days.

When the three days are up you take cocoa-nut pulp (isi niyor) and what are called “goat flowers” (bunga kambing), mix them, and eat them with a little sugar, spitting some of the mixture out among the rice. [So, after a birth (as the Pawang informed me), the young shoots of the jack-fruit (kababal nangka), the rose-apple (jambu), and certain kinds of banana (such as pisang abu and pisang Benggala), and the thin pulp of young cocoa-nuts (kelongkong niyor) are mixed with dried fish, salt, acid (asam), prawn-condiment (b’lachan), and similar ingredients, to form a species of salad (rojak). For three successive days this salad is administered to mother and child, the person who administers it saying, if the child be a girl, “Your mother is here, eat this salad,” and if the child be a boy, “Your father is here, eat this salad.”]

Invariably, too, when you enter the rice-clearing (menempoh ladang) you must kiss the rice-stalks (chium tangkei padi), saying, “Cluck, cluck, soul of my child!” (kur, semangat anak aku!) just as if you were kissing an infant of your own.

The last sheaf (as I think I have said) is reaped by the wife of the owner, who carries it back to the house (where it is threshed out and mixed with the Rice-soul). The owner then takes the Rice-soul and its basket and deposits it in the big circular rice-bin used by the Malays, together with the product of the last sheaf. Some of the product of the first seven “heads” will be mixed with next year’s seed, and the rest will be mixed with next year’s tepong tawar.223

In the Western States of the Peninsula by far the most important branch of industry has for many years been that of Tin-mining. Though something like 90 per cent of the labourers employed in the mines are Chinese, the ceremonies used at the opening of tin-mines are purely Malay in character.

The post of mining wizard, once a highly lucrative one, was in past days almost always filled by a Malay, though occasionally the services of a Jungle-man (Sakai) would be preferred. These mining wizards enjoyed in their palmy days an extraordinary reputation, some of them being credited with the power of bringing ore to a place where it was known that no ore existed; some, too, were believed to possess the power of sterilising such ore as existed, and of turning it into mere grains of sand.

The ore itself is regarded as endued not only with vitality, but also with the power of growth, ore of indifferent quality being regarded as too young (muda), but as likely to improve with age. Sometimes, again, it is described as resembling a buffalo, in which shape it is believed to make its way from place to place underground. This idea, however, is probably based upon traditions of a lode, though it is quite in keeping with Malay ideas about the spirits residing in other minerals, the Gold spirit being supposed to take the shape of a kijang or roe-deer (whence the tradition of a golden roe-deer being found at Raub in Pahang).

In connection with the subject of tin-mining the account contributed224 in 1885 by Mr. Abraham Hale (then Inspector of Mines in the Kinta district of Perak) to the Journal of the Straits Asiatic Society is of such value as to necessitate its being quoted in extenso. It will be followed by such notes upon mining invocations as I was able to collect in Selangor, after which a few remarks upon the Malay theory of animism in minerals generally will bring the subject to a conclusion.

To commence with Mr. Hale’s account:—“The valley of the Kinta is, and has been for a very long time, essentially a mining country. There are in the district nearly five hundred registered mines, of which three are worked by European Companies, the rest being either private mines, i.e. mines claimed by Malays, which have been worked by them and their ancestors for an indefinite period, or new mines, in other words new concessions given indifferently on application to Malays and Chinese. There are about three hundred and fifty private Malay mines, and it is with these principally that the following paper will deal.

“So far, no lodes have been discovered in Kinta; it is, however, probable that, as the country is opened up and prospectors get up amongst the spurs of the main range, the sources of the stream tin will come to light.

“Mining in Kinta, like mining in LÂrut, is for stream tin, and this is found literally everywhere in Kinta; it is washed out of the sand in the river-beds—a very favourite employment with Mandheling women; Kinta natives do not affect it much, although there is more than one stream where a good worker can earn a dollar per day; it is mined for in the valley, and sluiced for on the sides of hills; and, lastly, a very suggestive fact to a geologist, it has been found on the tops of isolated limestone bluffs and in the caves225 which some of them contain.

“This stream tin has probably been worked for several centuries in Kinta; local tradition says that a very long time ago Siamese were the principal miners, and there is evidence that very extensive work has been done here by somebody at a time when the method was different from that which is commonly adopted by Kinta Malays at the present day. There are at least fifty deep well-like pits on the Lahat hill, averaging about eight feet in diameter and perhaps twenty feet deep.

“Further up country I have seen a large pit which the natives called a Siamese mine; this is about fifty feet in diameter and over twenty feet deep, and its age may be conjectured from the virgin forest in which it is situated. Besides these, at many places extensive workings are continually brought to light as the country is opened up, and these appear to have been left undisturbed for at least a hundred years. Further evidence of old work is furnished by slabs of tin of a shape unlike that which has been used in Perak in the memory of living persons; and only a few weeks ago two very perfect ‘curry stones’ of an unusual shape and particularly sharp grit were found at a depth of eight feet in natural drift. These may, perhaps, have been used to grind grain.

“So peculiarly is Kinta a mining district, that even the Sakais of the hills do a little mining to get some tin sand wherewith to buy the choppers and sarongs which the Malays sell to them at an exorbitant price.

“The Malay pawang, or medicine-man, is probably the inheritor of various remnants and traditions of the religion which preceded Muhammadanism, and in the olden time this class of persons derived a very fair revenue from the exercise of their profession, in propitiating and scaring those spirits who have to do with mines and miners; even now, although the Malay pawang may squeeze a hundred or perhaps two hundred dollars out of the Chinese towkay226 who comes to mine for tin in Malaya, the money is not perhaps badly invested, for the Chinaman is no prospector, whereas a good Malay pawang has a wonderful ‘nose’ for tin, and it may be assumed that the Chinese towkay and, before his time, the Malay miner, would not pay a tax to the pawang unless they had some ground for believing that, by employing him and working under his advice, there would be more chance of success than if they worked only on their own responsibility.

“The pawang being a person who claims to have powers of divination and other imperfectly understood attributes, endeavours to shroud his whole profession in more or less of mystery. In his vocabulary, as in that of the gutta-hunters, special terms are used to signify particular objects, the use of the ordinary words being dropped; this is called ‘bahÂsa pantang.’227

“The following are some of the special terms alluded to:—

“Ber-olak tinggi,228 instead of gajah—elephant. The elephant is not allowed on the mine, or must not be brought on to the actual works, for fear of damage to the numerous races and dams; to name him, therefore, would displease the spirits (hantu).

“Ber-olak dÂpor, instead of kuching—cat. Cats are not allowed on mines, nor may the name be mentioned.

“A tiger of enormous size called Ber-olak is said to haunt Kinta. The legend about him is as follows:— A long time ago, in the pre-Muhammadan days, a man caught a tiger kitten and took it home; it grew up quite tame and lived with the man until he died, when it returned to the jungle and grew to an enormous size, nine cubits (hasta) long; it is still there, though nobody ever sees it; it does no harm, but sometimes very large tracks are seen, and men hear its roar, which is so loud that it can be heard from Chemor to BÂtu Gajah; when heard in the dry season, it is a sure prognostication of rain in fifteen days’ time.

“Sial,229 instead of kerbau—water-buffalo. The buffalo is not allowed on the mine for the same reason as the elephant.

“Salah nama,230 instead of limau nipis—lime (fruit). If limes are brought on to a mine, the hantu (spirits) are said to be offended; the particular feature of the fruit, which is distasteful, appears to be its acidity. It is peculiar that Chinese have this superstition concerning limes as well as Malays; not very long ago a Chinese towkay of a mine complained that the men of a rival kongsi231 had brought limes and squeezed the juice into his head race, and, furthermore, had rubbed their bodies with the juice mixed with water out of his head race, and he said they had committed a very grave offence, and asked that they might be punished for it.

“With Malays this appears to be one of the most important pantang232 rules, and to such a length is it carried that belachan (shrimp-paste) is not allowed to be brought on to a mine for fear it should induce people to bring limes as well, lime-juice being a necessary adjunct to belachan when prepared for eating.

“Buah rumput,233 or bunga rumput, instead of biji—tin sand.

“Akar, or akar hidop,234 instead of ular—snake.

“Kunyit,235 instead of lipan—centipede.

“Batu puteh,236 instead of timah—metallic tin.

“It was important that the Pawang should be a marked man as to personal appearance; for this reason there are certain positions of the body which may be assumed by him only when on the mine. These attitudes are—first, standing with the hands clasped behind the back; and, secondly, with the hands resting on the hips. This second position is assumed when he is engaged in ‘invocating’ the ‘spirits’ of a mine; the pawang takes his station in front of the genggulang,237 having a long piece of white cloth in his right hand, which he waves backwards and forwards over his shoulder three times, each time calling the special hantu whom he wishes to propitiate, by name; whilst engaged in this invocation his left hand rests on his hip. During the performance of any professional duty he is also invariably dressed in a black coat; this nobody but the pawang is allowed to wear on a mine. These attitudes and the black coat comprise what is technically termed the pakei pawang.

“The professional duty of the pawang of a mine consists in carrying out certain ceremonies, for which he is entitled to collect the customary fees, and in enforcing certain rules for the breach of which he levies the customary fines.238

“At the time of the opening of a mine he has to erect a genggulang,239 and to call upon the tutelary hantu of the locality to assist in the enterprise. The fee for this is one bag (karong) of tin sand.

“At the request of the miners, instead of a genggulang a kapala nasi240 may be erected, as cheaper and more expeditious. The fee is one gantang241 of tin sand.

“He also assists in the ceremony of hanging the ancha242 in the smelting-house; his principal associate in this is the Panglima Klian, who draws the ancha up to its proper position close under the attaps.

“1. Raw cotton must not be brought on to a mine in any shape, either in its native state or as stuffing of bolsters or mattresses. The fine (hukum pawang) is $12.50; the ordinary pillow used by a miner is made of some soft wood.

“2. Black coats and the attitudes designated pakei pawang243 may not be assumed by any one on the mine, with the exception of the pawang. (Hukum pawang, $12.50.)

“3. The gourd used as a water vessel by Malays, all descriptions of earthenware, glass, and all sorts of limes and lemons, and the outer husk of the cocoa-nut, are prohibited articles on mines. (Hukum pawang, $12.50.)

“Note.—All eating- and drinking-vessels should be made of cocoa-nut shell or of wood: the noise made by earthenware and glass is said to be offensive to the hantu. But in the case of a breach of this regulation the pawang would warn the offenders two or three times before he claimed the fine.

“4. Gambling and quarrelling are strictly forbidden on mines; the fine is claimed for the first offence. (Hukum pawang, $12.50.)

“5. Wooden aqueducts (palong) must be prepared in the jungle a long way from the mine. (Hukum pawang, $12.50.)

“The noise of the chopping is said to be offensive to the hantu.

“6. Any breach of the bahasa pantang is an offence. (Hukum pawang, $12.50.)

“7. Charcoal must not be allowed to fall into the races. (Hukum pawang, $12.50.)

“8. A miner must not wear and go to work on the mine in another man’s trousers. (Hukum pawang, one karong of tin sand.)

“Note.—This applies only to the senar seluar basah, or working dress. It is also an offence to work in the garment called sarong.

“9. If the chupak (measure) of the mine is broken, it must be renewed within three days. (Hukum pawang, one bhara of tin.)

“10. No weapon may be brought within the four posts of the smelting-house which immediately surround the furnace. (Hukum pawang, $1.25.)

“11. Coats may not be worn within this space. (Hukum pawang, $1.25.)

“12. These posts may not be cut or hacked. (Hukum pawang, one slab of tin.)

“13. If a miner returns from work, bringing back with him some tin sand, and discovers that somebody has eaten the cold rice which he had left at home, he may claim from the delinquent one karong of tin sand. The pawang adjudicates in the matter.

“14. An earthenware pot (priok) which is broken must be replaced within three days. (Hukum pawang, one karong of tin sand.)

“15. No one may cross a race in which a miner is sluicing without going some distance above him, up stream; if he does he incurs a penalty of as much tin sand as the race contains at the moment, payable to the owner of the race. The pawang adjudicates.

“16. A kris, or spear, at a mine, if without a sheath, must be carefully wrapped in leaves, even the metal setting (simpei) must be hidden. Spears may only be carried at the “trail.” (Hukum pawang, uncertain.)

“17. On the death of any miner, each of his comrades on that mine pays to the pawang one chupak (penjuru) of tin sand.

“It will be noticed that the amount of the majority of these fines is $12.50; this is half of the amount of the fine which, under the Malay customary law, a chief could impose on a ra?iyat244 for minor offences. It is also the amount of the customary dowry in the case of a marriage with a slave or with the widow or divorced wife of a ra?iyat.

“The Malay miner has peculiar ideas about tin and its properties; in the first instance, he believes that it is under the protection and command of certain spirits whom he considers it necessary to propitiate; next he considers that the tin itself is alive and has many of the properties of living matter, that of its own volition it can move from place to place, that it can reproduce itself, and that it has special likes—or perhaps affinities—for certain people and things, and vice versa. Hence it is advisable to treat tin-ore with a certain amount of respect, to consult its convenience, and what is, perhaps, more curious, to conduct the business of mining in such a way that the tin-ore may, as it were, be obtained without its own knowledge!”

Mr. Hale adds an interesting vocabulary of Malay mining terms from which the following words are extracted as being specially connected with the superstitions of the miners:—

The following notes on tin-mining in Selangor were contributed to the Selangor Journal by Mr. J. C. Pasqual, a well-known local miner:—

“The Malay mining pawang will soon be a thing of the past, and many a pawang has returned to tilling the soil in place of his less legitimate occupation of imposing upon the credulity of the miners. The reason for this is not far to seek, as the Malay miner, as well as the Chinese miner, of the old school, with their thousand-and-one superstitions, has given place to a more modern and matter-of-fact race, who place more reliance for prospecting purposes on boring tools than on the divination and jampi of the pawang. But the profession of the pawang has not altogether died out, as he is sometimes called into requisition for the purpose of casting out evil spirits from the mines; of converting amang253 (pyrites) into tin-ore, and of invoking the spirits of a mine previous to the breaking of the first sod in a new venture. These ceremonies generally involve the slaying of a buffalo, a goat, or fowls, and the offering of betel-leaf, incense, and rice, according to the means of the towkay lombong.

“The term pawang is now used by the Chinese to indicate the ‘smelter’ (Chinese) of a mine (probably from the fact that this office was formerly the monopoly of the Malay pawang).

“To the pawangs are attributed extraordinary powers, for besides inducing tin-ore to continue or become plentiful in a mine, he can cause its disappearance from a rich ‘claim’ by the inevitable jampi, this latter resource being resorted to by way of revenge in cases where the towkay lombong (or labor) fails to carry out his pecuniary obligation towards the pawang whose aid he had invoked in less prosperous times. Some of the stories told of the prowess of pawangs are very ridiculous; for instance, a native lady in Ulu Langat (for women are also credited with the pawang attributes), who was the pawang of Sungei Jelok in Kajang, could command a grain of tin-ore to crawl on the palm of her hand like a live worm.254 The failure of the Sungei Jelok mines was attributed to her displeasure on account of an alleged breach of contract on the part of the towkay lombong.

“The term pawang is sometimes used as a verb in the sense of ‘to prospect’ a sungei or stream; thus in alluding to certain streams or mines, it is not uncommon to hear a Malay say that they have been prospected (sudah di-pawangkan) by ‘Inche’ So-and-so—meaning that the stream had been discovered and proved by a pawang prior to the opening of the mines.”255

In a later article Mr. Pasqual says: “It is believed that tin will even on rare occasions announce its presence by a peculiar noise heard in the stillness of night, and that some birds and insects by their chirrupings and whirrings will proclaim its whereabouts.”256

In a still later article, after briefly referring to the use of the bhasa pantang, or “Taboo Language,” by tin-miners in Selangor, Mr. Pasqual proceeds:—

“There are, again, certain acts which are forbidden. In the mine, especially if the karang257 has not yet been removed, it is forbidden to wear shoes or carry an umbrella. This rule, it seems, originated with the coolies themselves, who in olden times insisted that the Towkay Labur should take off his shoes and close his umbrella whenever he visited the mine, so that, as they alleged, the spirits might not be offended. But their real object was not to allow him to pry too much into the mine, in case it might not bear scrutiny; and thus, by depriving him of the protection from the sun and from the rough mining quartz which would have been afforded by the umbrella and shoes, they prevented him from going about here, there, and everywhere, and making unpleasant inquiries, as he would otherwise have liked to do.

“Quarrelling and fighting in the mine is strictly forbidden, as it has a tendency to drive away the ore.

“Bathing in the mine is not allowed.

“A man must not work in the mine with only his bathing-cloth around his body. He must wear trousers.

“If a man takes off his sun hat and puts it on the ground, he must turn it over and let it rest upon its crown.

“Limes cannot be brought into the mine. This superstition is peculiar to the Malay miner, who has a special dread of this fruit, which, in pantang language, he calls salah nama (lit. ‘wrong name’) instead of limau nipis.

“In looking at the check-roll it is forbidden to point at the names with the finger. No one may examine the check-roll at night with an open light, owing more probably to the fear of setting it on fire than to superstitious prejudices.

“It is considered unlucky for a man to fall off the mining ladder, for, whether he is hurt or not, he is likely to die within the year.

“An outbreak of fire in the mine is considered an omen of prosperity. Several mines have been known to double or treble their output of tin after the occurrence of a fire.

“It is unlucky for a coolie to die in the kongsi house. When, therefore, a man is very sick and past all hopes of recovery, it is customary to put him out of the house in an extempore hut erected in the scrub, so that death may not take place in the kongsi amongst the living. His chuleis258 attend him during his last hours and bury him when dead. These and other superstitious ideas and observances are, however, fast dying out, though it would still be an unsafe experiment to enter a mine with shoes on and an umbrella over your head.”259

The remaining notes on mining ceremonies and charms were collected by me in Selangor. On reaching the tin-bearing stratum, the tin-ore is addressed by name:—

Sometimes each grain of ore appears to be considered as endowed with a separate entity or individuality. Thus we find in another invocation the following passage, where the wizard is addressing the grains of ore:—

The separate personality of each individual grain is remarkably clear in the above passage. The names of the different kinds of seed are in allusion to the various shapes and sizes of the grains of ore.

Yet in the very same charm various kinds of lizards and centipedes are begged to “bring the tin-ore with them, some of them a grain or two, some of them a fistful or two, some of them a gallon or two, some of them a load or two,” and so on. No doubt the wizard was determined to allow the grains no loophole for escape.

The objects of the charms employed by the mining wizards are the following:—

(1) To clear the jungle of evil spirits (and propitiate the good ones?) before starting to fell, as is shown by the following passage:—

(Here some lines follow which are as yet untranslatable.)

(2) To clear evil spirits away from the ground before commencing the work of excavation. The charm for this is given in the Appendix, but is little more than a list of names.

(3) To propitiate the local spirits and induce the tin-ore to show itself, when the tin-bearing stratum is reached, by means of the charm quoted above.

(4) To induce the spirits to partake of a banquet which is spread for them in a receptacle intended to be the model of a royal audience-chamber.

This, the “spirits’ audience-chamber” (as it is called), is usually from two to three feet square, and is filled with offerings similar in character to those usually deposited on the sacrificial tray (anchak), with the addition, however, of certain articles which are considered to be specially representative of the miners’ food. These articles are sugar-cane, plantains, yams, sweet potatoes, and fish, etc.; all of which should be placed together with the customary offerings in the “spirits’ audience-chamber.” Outside the “audience-hall,” at each of the two front corners, should be placed a red and a white flag and a wax taper; and at each of the two back corners should be placed a taper, making in all four flags and seven tapers.

A standard censer (perasapan) must be erected in front of the “audience-chamber,” and a second small censer must also be obtained, so that burning incense may be “waved” to and fro underneath the floor of the audience-chamber in order to fumigate it before the offerings are deposited inside it.

During the fumigation a charm is recited, in which the assistance of the spirits of certain canonized Muhammadan worthies is invoked, concluding thus:—

Then when the tapers are all lighted and the offerings ready, a further charm is recited, which begins as follows:—

The chief taboos are the killing of any sort of living creature within the mine; to wear a sarong (Malay skirt); to bring into the mine the skin of any beast; and to wear shoes or use an umbrella within the mine. These are some of the perpetual taboos, but no doubt there are many others.

In the case of a sacrifice, however, the white buffalo may of course be killed, not within the mine itself, but still upon its brink; and when this is done, the head is buried, and small portions (which must be “representative” of every part of the carcase) should be taken and deposited in the “audience-chamber.”

Among the seven days’ taboos are mentioned the killing of any living timber (within the precincts of the mine?), lewdness, and the praising or admiring of the “grass seed” (puji buah rumput), which is the name by which the tin-ore must invariably be called within the precincts of the mine. This last taboo is due to the use of a special mining vocabulary to which the greatest attention was formerly paid, and which did not differ very greatly from that used in Perak.

Another account of the ceremony runs as follows; I give it word for word as I took it down from my Malay informant:—

“Take five portions of cooked and five portions of uncooked fowls, both white and black, together with black pulut rice,265 millet-seed (sekoi), seeds of the chebak China, etc. etc. When all is ready, burn incense, scatter the black rice with the right hand over the bottom of a tray, i.e. an anchak (such as is used for offerings to the spirits), fumigate and deposit the offerings in five portions upon this layer of rice (one portion going to each corner and one to the middle of the tray). Take black cloth, five cubits long, fumigate it, and wave it thrice round the head with the right hand from left to right, repeating the following invocation (serapah):—

The foregoing descriptions of mining ceremonies and charms refer to tin only, but in so far as general animistic ideas go, they might be equally well applied to other metals, such as silver and gold.

It has already been remarked that as the Tin spirit is believed to take the form of a buffalo, so the Gold spirit is said to take the form of a golden roe-deer (kijang). Of the ceremonies which the Malays believe to be essential for successful gold-mining, not much information has yet been published. In Denys’ Descriptive Dictionary, however, we read the following:—

“Gold is believed to be under the care and in the gift of a dewa, or god, and its search is therefore unhallowed, for the miners must conciliate the dewa by prayers and offerings, and carefully abstain from pronouncing the name of God or performing any act of worship. Any acknowledgment of the sovereignty of Allah offends the dewa, who immediately ‘hides the gold,’ or renders it invisible. At some of the great limbongan269 mas or gold-pits in the Malay States of the interior, any allusion to the Deity subjects the unwitting miner to a penalty which is imposed by the PenghÛlu. The qualities of the gold vary greatly in the same country. The finest gold brought to market is that of the principality of Pahang, on the eastern side of the Malay Peninsula, which brings a higher price than even that of Australia by better than three per cent. The gold is all obtained by washing, and the metal has never been worked, and scarcely even traced to the original veins. It is mostly in the form of powder or dust—the mas-urai of the Malays, literally ‘loose or disintegrated gold.’”270

Gold, silver, and an amalgam formed of the two, are regarded as the three most precious metals, and of these gold is, to a very uncertain and partial extent, still sometimes regarded as a royal prerogative.271

Of Silver still less information has been collected than of gold. This, however, is but natural, as silver has not yet been found in payable quantities, whereas many gold mines exist. It is just possible, however, that silver may be worked by the Malays on a small scale in the Siamese-Malay States, as it would be difficult on any other hypothesis to account for the following invocation, which was given me by a Malay of Kelantan (’Che ?Abas):—

No other metals, so far as I am aware, are worked to any extent in the Peninsula, yet there is the clearest possible evidence of animistic ideas about Iron. Thus for the Sacred Lump of Iron which forms part of the regalia of more than one of the petty Sultans in the Peninsula, the Malays entertain the most extraordinary reverence, not unmingled with superstitious terror.272 It is upon this “Lump of Iron,” when placed in water, that the most solemn and binding oath known to those who make use of it is sworn; and it is to this “Lump of Iron” that the Malay wizard refers when he recites his category of the most terrible denunciations that Malay magic has been able to invent.273

It is possible that there may be, in the Malay mind at all events, some connection between the supernatural powers ascribed to this portion of the regalia and the more general use of iron as a charm against evil spirits. For the various forms of iron which play so conspicuous a part in Malay magic, from the long iron nail which equally protects the new-born infant and the Rice-Soul from the powers of evil, to the betel-nut scissors which are believed to scare the evil spirits from the dead, are alike called the representatives (symbols or emblems) of Iron (tanda besi). So, too, is the blade of the wood-knife, or cutlass, which a jungle Malay will sometimes plant in the bed of a stream (with its edge towards the source) before he will venture to drink of the water. So, too, is the blade of the same knife, upon the side of which he will occasionally seat himself when he is eating alone in the forest; both of these precautions being taken, however, as I have more than once been told, not only to drive away evil spirits, but to “confirm” the speaker’s own soul (menetapkan semangat).

Even Stone appears to be regarded as distinctly connected with ideas of animism. Thus the stone deposited in the basket with the Rice-soul, the stone deposited in the child’s swinging cot by way of a substitute when the child is temporarily taken out of it, and above all the various concretions to be found from time to time both in the bodies of animals (“Bezoar” stones) and in the stems or fruit of trees (as tabasheer), are examples of this. Examples of tabasheer have already been quoted (under Vegetation Charms), but a few remarks about Bezoar stones may be of interest.

The Bezoar stones known to the Peninsular Malays are usually obtained either from monkeys or porcupines. Extraordinary magical virtues are attached to these stones, the gratings of which are mixed with water and administered to the sick.274

I was once asked $200 for a small stone which its owner kept in cotton-wool in a small tin box, where it lay surrounded by grains of rice, upon which he declared that it fed.275 I asked him how it could be proved that it was a true Bezoar stone (which it undoubtedly was not), and he declared that if it were placed upon an inverted tumbler and touched with the point of a k’ris (dagger) or a lime-fruit it would commence to move about. Both tests were therefore applied in my presence, but the motion of the Bezoar stone in each case proved to be due to the most overt trickery on the part of the owner, who by pressing on one side of the stone (which was spherical in shape) naturally caused it to move; in fact I was easily able to produce the same effect in the same way, as I presently showed him, though of course he could not be brought to admit the deception.276

Before I leave this portion of the subject, I may mention that magic powers are very generally ascribed to the “celts” or “stone-age” implements which are frequently found in the Peninsula, and are called thunderbolts (batu halilintar). They are not unfrequently grated and mixed with water and drunk like the Bezoar stones, but usually they are kept merely as a touch-stone for gold.

The following description (by Sir W. E. Maxwell) of the bathing ceremony, as practised by the Perak Malays, may be taken as typical of this subject:—

“Limes are used in Perak, as we use soap, when a Malay has resolved on having a really good “scrub.” They are cut in two and squeezed (ramas) in the hand. In Penang a root called sintok is usually preferred to limes. When the body is deemed sufficiently cleansed the performer, taking his stand facing the East, spits seven times, and then counts up seven aloud. After the word tujoh (seven) he throws away the remains of the limes or sintok to the West, saying aloud, Pergi-lah samua sial jambalang deripada badan aku ka pusat tasek Paujangi, ‘Misfortune and spirits of evil begone from my body to the whirlpool of the lake Paujangi!’ Then he throws (jurus) a few buckets of water over himself, and the operation is complete.

“The lake Paujangi is situated in mid-ocean, and its whirlpool most likely causes the tides. All the waters of the sea and rivers are finally received there. It is probably as eligible an abode for exorcised spirits as the Red Sea was once considered to be by our forefathers.” 277

The ceremony just described is evidently a form of purification by water. Similar purificatory ceremonies form an integral part of Malay customs at birth, adolescence, marriage, sickness, death, and in fact at every critical period of the life of a Malay; but will be most conveniently discussed in detail under each of the particular headings referred to. The tepong tawar ceremony (for the details of which see Chapter III., and which is perhaps the commonest of all Malay magic rites) would also seem to have originated from ideas of ceremonial purification.

“Procuring fire by friction is an accomplishment as common to the Malay as to the North American Indian. The process is, however, slightly different. While the latter resorts to circular friction, the Malay cuts a notch on the converse surface of a bamboo, across which he rapidly rubs another piece cut to a sharp edge. A fine powder is rubbed away and this ignites. Bamboo is also used as a flint with tinder. The all-pervading match, however, is alone used in all districts under foreign influence.”324

The foregoing description requires to be supplemented, for the method of procuring fire by circular friction is hardly (if at all) less common among the Malays than the method of cross friction. The former process takes the form of the well-known “fire-drill,” both the block and the upright stick being generally made of mahang wood. The upright stick is frequently worked by a species of “bow,” such as that used by carpenters, and is kept from jumping out of the socket in which it revolves by means of a cocoa-nut shell, which is pressed down from above. When cross friction is used, a long narrow slit is usually cut, following the grain, in the convex surface of the piece of bamboo, the dust which is rubbed away falling through it and gradually forming a little pile which presently ignites. It is hardly necessary to cut a notch for the cross-piece, as a groove is very quickly worn when the friction is started. A species of fire-syringe has also, I believe, been collected by Mr. L. Wray in Perak.

1 Kapar, Klang, Langat: the Pawang (magician) mentions, by way of example, the names of three places on the Selangor coast which he wishes to visit in succession during the day “if the wind will listen to him.” The Pawang who told me this was a Kapar man (’Che ?Akob).?

2 The first two lines are no doubt (as elsewhere) a sort of rhymed memoria technica, intended to “memorise” the accessories required for the rite. The tortoise here would appear to be a symbol of rain, as among the Sakais (wild tribes) of the Malay Peninsula. v. Haddon, Evolution of Art, p. 246. Can the “white” (or gray?) “ones” be the two lizards; and the “black one” the tortoise? The grass lizards are of various colours.?

3 The rice-spoon is a favourite weapon against spirits of evil, v. Maxwell in J.R.A.S., S.B., No. 7, p. 19, which describes how a woman in travail is armed with a [rice-] spoon during an eclipse.?

4 Pengiran Chemcha, which I translate Prince Rice-spoon, appears to be a mock title of Bornean origin. Thus we read that “Pengiran” or “Pangeran” is the title of the four Ministers of State (wazirs) in Brunei, one of whom was called Pengiran Pamancha, of which the present name (Pengiran Chemcha) looks like a corruption.—J.R.A.S., S.B., No. 20, p. 36.?

5 Inverted (I was given to understand), by way of symbolising the vault of heaven—a good example of sympathetic magic.?

6 For other superstitions about the cat, vide pp. 190–192, infra.?

7 The meranti is a fine hard-wood forest tree.?

8 i.e. “May we be well sheltered.”?

9 Vide p. 93, supra.?

10 The proverbs referred to are to be found in the collections of proverbs sent by Mr. Maxwell to Nos. 1, 2, and 3 of the Journal of the Straits Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society. The numbers are consecutive.

4. Apa guna-nia merak mengigal di hutan?

“What is the use of the peacock strutting in the jungle?”

The idea is that the beauty of the bird is thrown away when exhibited in a lonely spot where there is none to admire it.

72. Seperti ponggok merindu bulan.

“As the owl sighs longingly to the moon.”

A figure often used by Malays in describing the longing of a lover for his mistress. It recalls a line in Gray’s “Elegy,” “The moping owl doth to the moon complain.” [As to the story connected with the ponggok, vide infra, p. 122. Cpt. Kelham, vide infra, supposes the ponggok to be Scops lempiji, Horsf.]

73. Seperti kuang mekik di-puchuk gunong.

“Like the argus pheasant calling on the mountain peak.”

Another poetical simile for a complaining lover. Here he is compared to a lonely bird sounding its note far from all companions.

93. Seperti tetegok di-rumah tinggal.

“Like the night-jar at a deserted house.”

The tegok or tetegok is a bird common in the Malay Peninsula, whose habits are nocturnal and solitary. It has a peculiar, liquid, monotonous call. The phrase is used to signify the solitude and loneliness of a stranger in a Malay kampong.

Elsewhere (in notes afterwards published in the Selangor Journal) (vol. i. No. 23, p. 360) Sir W. E. Maxwell says “The burong tetegok is not a night bird, but flies by day. It can be distinguished by its short rapid note, which resembles tegok-tegok-tegok-tegok.” Apparently Sir W. E. Maxwell identifies this bird with the Malay night-jar (Caprimulgus macrurus. Horsf.) described by Capt. Kelham, in No. 9, page 122 of the J.R.A.S., S.B. None of the Dutch Dictionaries identify it clearly, though Klinkert (probably wrongly) identifies it with the small owl called ponggok, which is taken by Capt. Kelham to be Scops lempiji, Horsf.?

11 Gerda meniumur kepah-nia.?

12 Another fabulous bird which Maxwell does not mention is the Walimana (which I have more than once heard called Wilmana in Selangor). On the identity of this bird, my friend Mr. Wilkinson, of the Straits Civil Service, sends me in a letter the following note:—“The word is walimana. I have often met it in old MSS. written The ‘wali’ is the same as the second word in Rajawali. The mana is ‘human’; cp. man, manushya, etc. The walimana in old Javanese pottery is represented as a bird with a human head, a sort of harpy. In the Hikayat Sang Samba it is the steed of Maharaja Boma, and repeatedly speaks to its master.”?

13 Laksana jintayu menantikan hujan “as the jintayu awaits the rain,” is a proverbial simile for a state of anxiety and despondency. Jintayu = Jatayu (Sanskrit), a fabulous vulture.?

14

[To the above I may perhaps be allowed to add that the (dialectal) form chandrawasir is the form generally used in the southern part of Selangor (where the final “r” is still commonly preserved). The regular (Dictionary) form of the word, however, appears to be chandrawasih or chenderawaseh (the forms chendarawangsa, chenderawasa, and chenderawangseh being also found). In origin the word is undoubtedly Sanskrit.

It means the Bird of Paradise, but in those Malay countries where the Bird of Paradise is unknown, it is also applied to other birds, such as (in Malay romances) to the golden oriole and even to the ostrich. In the Malay Peninsula, too, it is said to fly feet upwards (which peculiarity it shares, according to Mr. Clifford, with the Berek-berek, Pub. J.R.A.S., S.B., Hik. Raj. Budiman, pt. ii. 35), and its eggs are sometimes said, on falling, to develop into the snake called chintamani. It is always considered lucky, and the “Bird of Paradise Prayer,” (do?a chendrawasi) as it is called, generally takes an important place in the formulas recited at the ceremonies connected with the Rice-soul, q.v. For the confusion between the chendrawasi and berek-berek (probably due to the fact that the chendrawasi, or Bird of Paradise, is not to be found in the Peninsula) vide note on App. xxx.]?

15 The baberek appears to be yet another name for the goat-sucker or night-jar (Caprimulgus macrurus, Horsf.) Dawn of History, page 171.?

16 As it appears that in Europe, at all events, the legend of the Wild Huntsman and his dogs (or Gabriel’s Hounds, as they are often called) is explained by the cries of wild geese flying overhead on dark nights, it seems most convenient to give the Malay legend in connection with the birds with which the Malays associate him. The explanation to which I refer is to be found in Prof. Newton’s Dictionary of Birds (1893), sub voce “Gabble-ratchet.” I quote in extenso:—

“In many parts of England, but especially in Yorkshire, the cries of some kind of wild goose,17 when flying by night, are heard with dismay by those who do not know the cause of them, and are attributed to ‘Gabriel’s Hounds,’ an expression equivalent to ‘Gabble-ratchet,’ a term often used for them, as in this sense gabble is said to be a corruption of Gabriel, and that, according to some mediÆval glossaries, is connected with gabbara or gabares, a word meaning a corpse (cp. Way, Promptorium Parvulorum, p. 320, sub voce ‘Lyche’); while ratchet is undoubtedly the same as the Anglo-Saxon rÆce and Middle English racche or rache, a dog that hunts by scent and gives tongue. Hence the expression would originally mean ‘corpse-hounds,’ and possibly has to do with legends such as that of the Wild Huntsman.... The sounds are at times very marvellous, not to say impressive, when heard, as they almost invariably are, on a pitch-dark night, and it has more than once happened within the writer’s knowledge that a flock of geese, giving utterance to them, has continued for some hours to circle over a town or village in such a way as to attract the attention of the most unobservant of its inhabitants, and inspire with terror those among them who are prone to superstition. (Cp. Atkinson, Notes and Queries, ser. 4, vii. pp. 439, 440, and Cleveland Glossary, p. 203; Herrtage, Catholicon Anglicum, p. 147; Robinson, Glossary Whitby, (Engl. Dial. Soc.) p. 74; and Addy, Glossary Sheffield (Engl. Dial. Soc.) p. 83. Mr. Charles Swainson (Prov. Names, Br. B., p. 98), gives ‘Gabble-ratchet’ as a name of the night-jar, but satisfactory proof of that statement seems to be wanting.”18?

17 Prof. Newton here has a note: “Presumably the BRANT, on the rare occasions when, losing its way, it comes inland, for the call-notes proceeding from a flock of this species curiously resemble the sound of hounds in full cry (Thompson, B. Irel. iii. p. 59), though some hearers liken them to the yelping of puppies. The discrepancy may to some extent depend on distance.”?

18 Possibly the sounds made by the geese might be attributed to the night-jar by peasants through the latter’s appearing at the time they were made. It is curious that the Malays as well should connect the night-jar with the Wild Huntsman.?

19 Selangor Malays add further that his whole body became overgrown with orchids, a conceit which recalls their story of a local hero who went on swimming in the sea until his body became covered with oysters!?

20 The Spectre Huntsman is said to butcher (bantai) his game, whenever he gets it, under a kind of wild areca palm (pinang senawar). He then binds it up again with a creeper (akar gasing-gasing), and roasts it over an earth hearth (saleian), the floor (lantei) of which is of the pinang boring (another wild areca palm), and covers it over with wild banana leaves (tudong salei daun pisang hutan) and leaves of the resam bracken.?

21 Selangor Malays add that the Spectre Huntsman himself instructed his son how to cure people who were suffering from the effects of his magic. These instructions were: “Take leaves of the bonglei, resam, gasing-gasing, and wild banana, shred and distil them (di-uraskan), and administer the potion to the patient, together with sirih kunta and pinang kunta. Before administering it, however, an augury has to be taken: young shoots of the (wild?) cotton-tree (puchok daun kapas) are plucked and have the sap squeezed out of them (di-ramas). If the liquor is red the patient may be cured; but if it has a black look, nothing can be done to save him.”?

22 The sickness which results from crossing the path of the Spectre Huntsman (kalintasan) has choleraic symptoms (vomiting and voiding) and is quickly fatal; that resulting from his challenge or summons (kategoran) begins with persistent fever (demam salama-lama-nya), but does not prove so rapidly fatal.?

23 As to this, vide App. xxx., note.?

24 J.R.A.S., S.B., No. 7, pp. 12–18.?

25 Vide App. xxx., lines 13, 14, 15, and 16.?

26 App. xxviii.?

27 I was once stationed for about eighteen months in a small out-of-the-way village on the Selangor coast, where three subordinate officers of the Government (foremen of works) had died successively, at comparatively short intervals. The last of these men, I was informed by the local Malays, received a kick from the Spectre Huntsman (di-sepak uleh Hantu Pemburu) as he was going down the hill to the village in the morning. He took no notice of the occurrence and proceeded down the river in a boat. Three hours later he vomited mangrove leaves(!) and was brought back dead! Cp. N. and Q., No. 2, sec. 32 (issued with J.R.A.S., S.B., No. 15).?

28 From J.R.A.S., S.B., No. 9, pp. 129, 130, “Malayan Ornithology,” by Captain H. R. Kelham, who adds:—

“I asked Mr. Low, H.B.M. Resident of PÊrak, if he could give me any information as to which species of Hornbill this legend relates to, and he writes—

“‘It is the largest Hornbill which is found in PÊrak, bigger, I should say, than the Rhinoceros Hornbill, but I have never seen it except flying, or on very high trees. The legend about it is very common, but I do not know the scientific name of that particular Hornbill; but it is not that you refer to, viz. Berenicornis comatus, Raffles; nor is it the Rhinoceros.’”?

29 Vol. i. No. 23, pp. 360–363.?

30 If Sir W. E. Maxwell is right this must be another name for the night-jar (vide p. 110n. supra). But the identification is at least doubtful.?

31 Vide supra, p. 109, note.?

32 Cp. Swett., Mal. Sketches, p. 160.?

33 Swett., Mal. Sketches, pp. 159, 160.?

34 In Selangor I have heard a similar story; but in this case it was a red-crested hornbill which supplied the buttons, which latter were said to turn green on the approach of poison. The only solid-crested hornbill is, I believe, the Rhinoplax.?

35 The amount of luck which goes with any particular bird of this species depends on the number of scales on its feet, for counting which certain verbal categories (like our own “tinker, tailor, soldier” formula) are used. Forty-four is the luckiest number of scales for one of these birds to possess. An example is: “Manuk (3), Manumah (5), Sangkesa (6), Desa (1), Dewa (4), Raja (2),” which has to be repeated as the scales are counted (beginning with the lowest scale). The numbers after the words indicate the order of the luck which the birds are supposed to bring; a ground-dove of the first order bringing luck worth a ship’s cargo (tuah merbok tuak sa-kapal). I have kept these birds myself.?

36 Cp. the Malay pantun:—

?

37 In Sel. Journ. vol. iii. No. 6, pp. 94, 95.?

38 Dissemurus platurus, Vieill.?

39 HaliÆtus leucogaster, Gm.?

40 An old Malay (in Selangor) once told me that the hornbill was the king of the birds until dispossessed by the eagle (Rajawali). If, as seems probable, the hornbill was taken as a substitute for the frigate-bird in places where the latter did not exist, this may be important.?

41 Argus giganteus, Temm.?

42 Corvus enca, Horsf., the Malay crow.?

43 I believe that a similar story exists in Siam, the Siamese, however, making turpentine play the part of the ink in the Malay story.?

44 Besides the hut, the necessary apparatus consists of: (1) Three rods (called ampeian or pinggiran) laid across the top of short forked sticks at a height of one or two feet from the ground. The whole space enclosed by these is called King Solomon’s palace-yard (halaman). (2) The buluh dekut, or bamboo pigeon-call, from 6 to 8 ft. in length, called “Prince Distraction.” (3) A rod with decoy-bird attached to it (by means of a string and noose at the end of the rod). (4) A rod with fine hair-like noose at the end, for snaring the wild pigeon, and dragging them into the hut. There is a door at back of hut as well as a small door or opening in front of hut, called pintu bangsi (mangsi or mansi).?

45 Bujang Sibor literally means the “Bachelor (i.e. solitary) Scooper.” The name has no doubt been chosen because it is thought to be lucky, possibly because it suggests “scooping in” (birds).?

46 Vide App. xxxii.?

47 Kapor, Puding, and Sarap, are the names of three varieties of pigeon, generally styled “princesses” in the charms used by pigeon-catchers. Their names are also given as Bujang Kapor, (the Solitary Kapor), Lela Puding (?), and Dayang Sarap (the Handmaiden Sarap).?

48 The mengkudu is a Malay forest tree (Morinda tinctoria).?

49 An alternative version runs:—

?

50 Another version has:—

Si Raja Nyila (from sila, menyila) is the name given to the long slender rods with fine hair-like nooses at the end with which the pigeons are snared and dragged into the hut (vide App. xli.)?

51 Vide App. xxxvii.?

52 Vide App. xlv.?

53 Vide App. xlvii.?

54 Ibid.?

55 Ibid. Note that the house-door must not face towards the south; if it faces southwards there will be no luck in the house and everything will go wrong.—J.R.A.S., S.B., No. 30, p. 306. Vide App. lv.?

56 Perhaps a corruption of “Bentara,” or Batara, Guru (i.e. Shiva), which is what we should here expect (vide the charms a few pages farther on). “Mentri” usually means “minister.”?

57 Vide App. xlvii.?

58 As to lucky and unlucky times, vide Chap. VI. pp. 545–550, infra.?

59 Cp. pp. 244–245, 248, infra.?

60 In a case where no trouble is expected on the part of the earth-spirit, even an egg (as the “symbol” of a fowl) may be sufficient as a sacrifice.?

61 Vide App. l.?

62 An alternative method was thus described to me by a magician: Take a white cup, fill it with water, fumigate it with incense, and deposit it in the hole dug to receive the centre-post. Early next morning take note of it; if it is still full of water, it is a good sign; if the water has wasted (susut), a bad one. If live insects are found in it, it is a good sign, if dead ones, bad. There can, however, be little doubt that the original victim of this sacrifice was a human victim (generally perhaps a slave), for whom the buffalo was substituted (the goat, fowl, and egg representing further successive stages in the depreciation of the rite). Malays on the Selangor coast more than once told me they had heard that the Government was in the habit of burying a human head under the foundations of any unusually large structure (e.g. a bridge), and two cases where a local scare resulted from the prevalence of this idea were recorded in the local press (the Malay Mail) in 1897. For similar traditions of human sacrifice, vide p. 211 infra.?

63 Vide App. lii.?

64 For other “categories” vide p. 559, infra.?

65 Another form of measurement was from the threshold (of the front door) to the end of the house; but the method of augury in this case is not yet quite clear.?

66 This probably refers to the mystic Dragon which does duty (in Malay charm-books) as an “aspect compass.” Vide Chap. VI. p. 561, infra, and App. cclvii.?

67 Audience hall.?

68 J.R.A.S., S.B. No. 9, pp. 85, 86. This is an extract from the Marong Mahawangsa, the legendary history of Kedah, a State bordering on Lower Siam. The name Podisat (i.e. Bodhisattva) indicates Indo-Chinese Buddhist influence. It does not seem to occur elsewhere in Malay literature, though Buddhism flourished in Sumatra in the seventh century A.D.?

69 Of the rhinoceros not many superstitions are yet known. The rhinoceros horn, however (called chula), is believed to be a powerful aphrodisiac, and there is supposed to be a species of “fiery” rhinoceros (badak api) which is excessively dangerous if attacked. This latter is probably a mere fable, vide Cliff., In Court and Kampong, p. 33.?

70 J.R.A.S., S.B., No. 7, pp. 23, 24.?

71 Young shoots of bamboo are eaten by Malays with curry.?

72 The skull of this elephant, riddled with bullets, was sent to the Government Museum at Kuala Lumpor, in Selangor. It had, so far as I remember, one stunted tusk. The present State surgeon (Dr. A. E. O. Travers) can speak to the facts.?

73 Sel. Journ. vol. iii. No. 6, p. 95 (quoted from Perak Museum Notes by Mr. L. Wray).?

74 Sel. Journ. vol. i. No. 6, p. 83, where this note is given. Probably “armadillo” is a mistake for “pangolin.”?

75 These leaves are such as are used by the medicine-man for his leaf-brush, i.e. leaves of the pulut-pulut, selaguri, gandarusa, and the red dracÆna (lenjuang merah).?

76 “The Malays believe that the power to inform a spirit, a wild beast, or any natural object, such as iron rust, of the source from which it originates (usul asal ka-jadi-an-nya), renders it powerless.” H. Clifford in No. 3 of the Publications of the R.A.S., S.B., Hikayat Raja Budiman, pt. ii. p. 8. This belief is found among all tribes of Malays in the Peninsula. Possibly the idea was that knowledge of another person’s ancestry implied common tribal origin. For the explanation of “Badi,” vide Chap. IV. p. 94, supra, and Chap. VI. p. 427, infra.?

77 “Rhinoceros” should be substituted for “elephant” passim, if it was the object of the hunter’s pursuit. This particular line should probably come at the end of the charm instead of the middle.?

78 J.R.A.S., S.B., No. 7, p. 22.?

79 Marsden, Hist. of Sum. p. 292, ed. 1811.?

80 J.R.A.S., S.B., l.c.

“They (the Sumatran Malays) seem to think, indeed, that tigers in general are actuated with the spirits of departed men, and no consideration will prevail on a countryman to catch or to wound one, but in self-defence, or immediately after the act of destroying a friend or relation. They speak of them with a degree of awe, and hesitate to call them by their common name (rimau or machang), terming them respectfully satwa (the wild animals), or even nenek (ancestors), as really believing them such, or by way of soothing or coaxing them, as our ignorant country folk call the fairies ‘the good people.’” [Dato’ hutan, “elder of the jungle,” is the common title of the tiger in Selangor. Various nicknames, however, are given, e.g. Si Pudong, “he of the hairy face” (Cliff., In Court and Kampong, p. 201), ’Pah Randau, “father shaggy-face,” etc.] “When an European procures traps to be set ... the inhabitants of the neighbourhood have been known to go at night to the place and practise some forms in order to persuade the animal, when caught, or when he shall perceive the bait, that it was not laid by them or with their consent. They talk of a place in the country where the tigers have a court, and maintain a regular form of government, in towns, the houses of which are thatched with women’s hair.”—Marsden, l.c. (The italics are mine.) It is curious that the Fairy Princess’ hall on Gunong Ledang is similarly described in the Sejarah Malayu (Malay Annals, p. 279) as being of bone and thatched with hair.?

81 Also called ’tas. The tiger is still supposed to be mortally afraid of los or ’tas wood. In fact, I was more than once told of a trapped tiger who on being shown a piece of ’tas wood “became quite silent,” though it had previously been savagely growling, and shrank into a corner of the trap. A single inch of this wood is thought an adequate protection against any tiger. I do not know what species of tree it belongs to, but a gorse stick (which I had bought some years before in Ireland) was taken to be a piece of los wood, and was begged from me by a local Malay headman, who cut it up into inches for distribution among his following.?

82 It appears that in Java there are supposed not only to be men who can themselves become tigers at will, but men who can turn other people into tigers as well. This is done by means of a species of sympathetic magic, the medicine-man drawing on a sarong (Malay skirt) of marvellous elasticity, which at first will only cover his great toes, but which he is able gradually to stretch until it covers his whole person. This sarong resembles the hide of a Bengal tiger (being yellow with black stripes), and the wearing of it in conjunction with the necessary charms will turn the required person into a tiger.?

83 Clifford, In Court and Kampong, pp. 65, 66.?

84 Malay Sketches, pp. 200, 201.?

85 Sel. Journ. vol. i. No. 6, p. 87.?

86 Or with a needle, vide infra.?

87 Or two cats, vide infra.?

88 Sel. Journ. vol. i. No. 8, p. 115. Later Mr. Turney, writing under the nom de plume of a well-known Chinese servant, added the following:—

“Talking of the harimau kramat (ghost tigers) reminds me of the excitement there was in the town because a clever lady, called Miss Bird, was coming and would write about the place and people.

“My master had obtained intimation of this lady’s wants, and was directed to receive her on a certain date, and the Sultan’s people were told that a great ‘cherita (story) writer’ was coming who would tell the world of our Sultan and his dominions.

“On the appointed day the lady arrived, and accompanying her were a crowd of gentlemen, who were supposed to help her to get information.

“They all dined at my master’s, and the subjects discussed were very various, among others was the kramat (ghost) tiger, which had been shot a few days previously. They admired the skin of the tiger, which was in a state of good preservation, and Miss Bird regretted that she was too late to taste the flesh, which, my master said, made very good ‘devilled steaks,’ not unlike venison!”—(S. J. vol. i. No. 11, p. 171.)?

89 It may perhaps be supposed that she had thrown the rest of the body overboard before she was surprised by the sailing vessel.?

90 Cp. the other versions of this tale given in N. and Q., No. 3, Secs. 33, 34 (issued with J.R.A.S., S.B., No. 15).?

91 The explanation given to me of these two lines was that they were both based on a fancied resemblance between the parts referred to.?

92 A similar charm runs, “Madam Ugly is the name of your mother, Sir Stripes the name of your body. I fold up your tongue and muzzle your mouth; -wig -eak [stands for] let the twig break—break with the weight of this well-fed wild goose. Be (your mouth) shut fast and locked. If a bachelor loses his vocation, it does not matter.” (Here follow a few words of Arabic.) On reaching home you must never forget to unlock the tiger’s jaws, or “he will certainly bear a grudge against you!” To do this you must repeat the Arabic words with which the charm (just quoted) concluded, and then pronounce the Malay word buka, which means “open.” The Malays are fond of enigmatical expressions, in which the part of a word is made to stand for the whole. Cp. infra “Teng [stands for] the Satengteng flower.” Sometimes these expressions are propounded as riddles, e.g. “Ti tiong kalau kalau,” out of which the guesser was supposed to make “Banyak-banyak beSI, beLIONG ta’memBALAU.”?

93 Chiefs, especially with reference to military functions.?

94 J.R.A.S., S.B., No. 3, p. 139.?

95 “Two large and four species of small deer are found in the Peninsula, besides the babi rusa or hog-deer, which however is not a member of the same order. The large species are: the sambur (Rusa Aristotelis), a rather savage animal, larger than our own red deer; and the axis (A. maculata) or spotted deer. Of the small or Moschine species, the kijang is the largest; next to this comes the napuh; the third in size is the lanak; and the smallest is the pelandok or true pigmy deer.”—Denys, Descr. Dict. of Brit. Malaya, s.v. Deer.?

96 J.R.A.S., S.B., No. 7, p. 26.?

97 J. D. Vaughan in J.I.A. vol. xi. quoted in Denys, l.c.?

98 Village or hamlet.?

99 Sambon. I do not know any plant of this name. Possibly it may stand for sarimbun or sambau, the latter of which at least is commonly used by Malay medicine-men.?

100 I may add that the first person to draw blood is supposed to get sabatang daging lembusir, a moiety of the kidneys (?) and the Pawang to get the other half.?

101 Kiramun katibun (lit. “illustrious writers”) are the two recording angels who are said to be with every man, one on the right hand to record his good deeds, and one on his left to record the evil deeds. They are mentioned in the Koran. Vide Hughes, Dict. of Islam, s.v.?

102 The token consists in chopping down a small tree and with it piercing the slot of the deer.?

103 Or, “whose art is more powerful than mine.”?

104 Possibly an allusion to the branching of the stag’s horns. The last two lines of this charm are obscure.?

105 Another Pawang gave me the following account, which is much fuller:—“On entering the jungle carry the toils with you till you meet with the slot of the deer, and then ask for a tree, saying as follows—

‘Peace be with you, O ’Tap, Prophet of God, in whose charge is the Earth.

I ask for this tree (to enable me) to make fast these toils.’

Here begin to unroll the toils, saying—

[The point of this charm is that “Sir Tuft” is an allusion to the origin of the rattan rope, which must have come, of course, from the “tufted” creeper of that name. Similarly, “Sir Ring” is supposed to be an allusion to the ring which formed the original unit of the toils, a collection of rings or nooses. The object of mentioning the origin of anything is that doing so is supposed to give one power over the article so addressed, v. p. 156 n., supra.] “Having completed the unrolling of the toils, double the connecting rope (from which the nooses hang) in two, and when this is done, enter them, holding them by the connecting rope (kajar), and say—

?

106 Probably a pun upon teng, which was explained to me as meaning kaki sa-b’lah (“one foot only”), as in berteng-teng, “to go on one foot,” to hobble; tengkis, “with one foot shortened or shrunken,” etc. The “satengteng flower” was explained as another name for the satawar.?

107 The corresponding charm for driving out the mischief, given by another deer Pawang (’Che Indut), appears to be more appropriate:—

Bintongan was explained to me carefully as = benchana (calamity or disaster).?

108 This and the four succeeding names are evidently corruptions of the names of the four archangels, “Michael, Israfel, Azrael, and Gabriel.” Vide p. 98, supra.?

109 Vide pp. 94, 95, note, supra.?

110 In the Pelandok Jinaka, a Malay beast-fable, the Mouse-deer is styled “Sheikh ?alam (or Shah ?alam) di Rimba,” “Chief (or King) of the Forest.”?

111 Vide p. 117.?

112 Cp. our use of the phrase “an ugly customer,” vide App. lxxxi.?

113 J.R.A.S., S.B., No. 7, p. 26.?

114 The wild dogs of the jungle are considered by Malays to be not natural dogs, but “ghost” dogs of the pack of the Spectre Huntsman. They are regarded as most dangerous to meet, for, according to a Malay informant, “if they bark at us, we shall assuredly die where we stand and shall not be able to return home; if, however, we see them and bark at them before they bark at us, we shall not be affected by them. Therefore do all Malays give tongue when they meet the wild dog in the forest.”?

115 Or Sugar-palm (Arenga saccharifera).?

116 “The Malayan Sun-bear, the only animal of the bear species in the Peninsula. It is also known as the Honey-bear, from its fondness for that sweet. It is black in colour, with the exception of a semi-lunar-shaped patch of white on the breast, and a yellowish-white patch on the snout and upper jaw. The fur is fine and glossy. Its feet are armed with formidable claws, and its lips and tongue are peculiarly long and flexible, all three organs adapting it to tear open and get at the apertures in old trees where the wild bees usually build.”—Denys, Descr. Dic. Brit. Mal., s.v. Bruang.?

117 Bruin is also the Dutch word for a bear. The Malay form Beruang has also been derived from ruang, which is assumed, for this occasion only, to mean a “cave,” in order that Beruang may be explained as meaning the cave-animal. There is no evidence, however, to show that ruang ever did mean a cave, nor is the Malay bear a cave-animal.?

118 J.R.A.S., S.B., No. 7, p. 23.?

119 Cp. Cliff., Stud. in Brown Hum. p. 243 seqq. (The Strange Elopement of Chaling the Dyak).?

120 There seems to be some doubt as to the scientific nomenclature properly applicable to the Siamang.

The following is a specimen of a monkey legend: “A little farther up-stream two rocks facing each other, one on each side of the river, are said to have been the forts of two rival tribes of monkeys, the Mawah (Simia lar) and the Siamang (Simia syndactyla), in a terrible war which was waged between them in a bygone age. The Siamangs defeated their adversaries, whom they have ever since confined to the right bank of the river. If any matter of fact person should doubt the truth of this tradition, are there not two facts for the discomfiture of scepticism—the monkey forts (called Batu Mawah to this day) threatening each other from opposite banks of the river, and the assurance of all Perak Malays that no Mawah is to be found on the left bank?”—J.R.A.S., S.B., No. 9, p. 48.?

121 According to another account, the siamang is said to have originated from akar pulai, i.e. the roots of a pulai tree (the Malay substitute for cork, used to form floats for the fishing-nets).?

122 J.R.A.S., S.B., No. 7, p. 26.?

123 J.R.A.S., S.B., No. 1, pp. 93, 94.?

124 J.R.A.S., S.B., No. 7, p. 22.?

125 The sacrificial buffalo (when presented to a Raja) is covered with a cloth, and has its horns dressed and a breast-ornament (dokoh) hung round its neck (vide Pl. 11, Fig. 2). In the case of a great Raja or Sultan, yellow cloth is used.?

126 Infra, Chap. VI. pp. 450–452.?

127 I may add that the dried penis of the squirrel (chula tupei) is believed to be a most powerful aphrodisiac, and that many Malays believe that squirrels are occasionally found dead with this organ caught fast in cleft timber.

Mr. H. N. Ridley, in a pamphlet on Malay Materia Medica, already referred to, says:—

“Many things are used as aphrodisiacs by the natives.... Among them are the ovipositor of a grasshopper, which is popularly supposed to be the male organ of the squirrel; Balanophora, sp., a rare plant growing on Mount Ophir, and the Durian (Durio zibethinus).” Mr. Ridley regards the use of Balanophora for this purpose as an illustration of the “doctrine of signatures.”?

128 Vide J.R.A.S., S.B., l.c.?

129 Vide p. 108, supra.?

130 In Court and Kampong, p. 47.?

131 J.R.A.S., S.B., No. 7, p. 26.?

132 Ibid.?

133 I have not heard this word used on the west coast. It is of the east coast that Mr. Clifford is here writing.?

134 In Court and Kampong, pp. 147, 148.?

135 Vide p. 217, infra.?

136 Vide p. 279, infra.?

137 One of these stones (cocoa-nut pearls) in my possession has recently been presented to the Ethnological Museum at Cambridge. It is encircled by a dark ring, caused, I was told, by its adherence to the shell of the cocoa-nut in which it was found, for it is asserted that it is usually, if not always, found in the open eye or orifice at the base of the cocoa-nut, through which the root would otherwise issue.—W. S.?

138 Quoted from the Singapore Free Press in Denys’ Descriptive Dictionary of British Malaya, p. 80.?

139 Nephelium lappaeum, L. (Sapindaceae).?

140 Baccaurea motleyana, Hook. fil. (Euphorbiaceae).?

141 Or Langsat (Lansium domesticum, Jack; Meliaceae).?

142 Resembling the last named, but larger, and finer in flavour.?

143 Garcinia mangostana, L. (Guttiferae).?

144

?

145

?

146 This instrument consisted of a single short joint of bamboo, about nine inches in length by three inches in diameter, closed at one end only, near which was an orifice into which the performer blew. These instruments (tuang-tuang) are reported to have been formerly used by the Langat pirates, and are said to be still used by the Malay fishermen at Bernam, in Selangor, for calling their boats together.?

147 In Selangor a freak of this kind is called samambu bangkut, or “dwarfed (stunted) samambu.” One of this species belonged to the Sultan, and was kept in a yellow case. Sometimes, whether through the splitting of the bark on one side or some similar cause, an excrescence like a gigantic rat-tail will form on one side of the stem, a peculiarity which is believed to give the stick that is made from it immense value. To merely tap a person in play with one of these sticks (which are called sengat pari or “sting-rays’ tails”) will, it is believed, raise a most painful weal, whilst to strike a person hard with one would assuredly kill him. A Malacca-cane, one of whose knots is inverted and the other not, is also considered of great value, being believed to render the bearer of it invulnerable (jadi pelias).—Cp. J.R.A.S., S.B., No. 17, p. 155.?

148 In Selangor belum sampei is the phrase used.?

149 In Selangor rotan manau.?

150 Sel. Journ. vol. iii. No. 6, pp. 95, 96.?

151 Another Selangor version says that whilst the wife is boiling the stones, the husband is climbing the Malacca-cane plant (samambu) in order to get to the sky. The husband keeps calling out, “Are they cooked yet?” (Masak belum?), as in the version just given, and the wife cries, “Have you reached it yet? Have you reached it yet?” (Sampei belum?)?

152 In Selangor it is called Tualang (= ’Toh Alang?) and Sialang (= Si Alang?), and is the tree on which the wild bees build their nests.?

153 Strips of palm-leaves for thatching houses.?

154 One who has made the pilgrimage to Mecca.?

155 Sel. Journ. vol. iii. No. 6, p. 96.?

156 Vide App. lxxxvi.?

157 Vide App. lxxxvii.?

158 “Certain customs are observed in Siak in the collection of wax which may be mentioned here.

“The sialang (that is, a tree on which bees have made nests) is generally considered to belong to him who finds it, provided it stands in a part of the forest belonging to his tribe. Should the tree stand in a part of the jungle apportioned to another tribe, the finder is permitted to take for once all the wax there is on the tree, and ever afterwards, during his lifetime, all the wax of one branch of the tree. After his death the tree becomes the property of the tribe to whom that part of the jungle belongs.

“When wax is collected from a tree there are generally three persons to share in it, and the proceeds are divided as follows: viz., one-third to the proprietor of the tree, one-third to the man who climbs the tree, and one-third to the man who keeps watch below. These two latter offices are considered rather dangerous, the first because he has to climb the towering sialang trees, branchless to a considerable height, by means of bamboo pegs driven into the trunk; and the watch-keeper underneath, because he has to face the bears and tigers who (so it is said) come after the wax and honey.

“The following trees are generally inhabited by bees (lebah), and then become sialangs; near the sea, pulei, kempas, kayu arah, and babi kurus; whilst farther in the interior ringas manuk and chempedak ayer are their general habitats.

“Besides the lebah there is to be found in Siak another bee, called neruan, which does not make its nest on trees, but in holes.

“The regulations observed when taking the wax of the lebah do not apply to the taking of the wax and honey of the neruan. Anybody is at liberty to look for them wherever and whenever he likes.”—F. Kehding, in J.R.A.S., S.B., No. 17, pp. 156, 157.?

159 When the orchid was to be planted it was found that there was no room for it on the ground between the trees, and hence it was planted upon them.?

160 Under the heading of Divination a description will be given of a method of augury by means of one of these lime-fruits into which a spirit was supposed to have entered. See also one of the methods of abducting another person’s soul by causing it to enter into a bunch of seven lime-fruits. The use of the lime-fruit by the Malays for purposes of ablution was no doubt of ceremonial origin.?

161 Correctly, Descriptive Dictionary of the Indian Islands and Adjacent Countries.?

162 The tree is also in Selangor known as ’Karas or tengkaras. Tabak or ’long tabak is the name given to the tree by the wild jungle-tribes, but I cannot say if it is therefore a Sakai word in origin. I was told that this product eagle-wood was also occasionally found in other trees, such as the Baru-baru, but I cannot in any way vouch for this.?

163 A catty (kati) is 1? lb. avoir.?

164 Homali hamali looks like a corruption of S’ri Dangomala, S’ri Dangomali in the Rice-charms (q.v.) Otherwise this first sentence is evidently too corrupt to be translated.?

165 Read sahya.?

166 Mustajak: the Selangor form is “mestajap.”?

167 Belingkah: read Belingkar.?

168 Menginjan (sic): (?) Menginjau or Meninjau. A rough translation is as follows: [The first sentence is unintelligible.] “‘Come down and I shall be bounden to you. Come down, O Kadim, in company with me.’ ‘I grant this,’ says Eagle-wood. ‘So be it,’ says God. By virtue of ‘there is no god but God.’ Ho, Princess that art Coiled-up, Princess that Danglest, Princess that Stretchest forth (thine arms), I ask that this tree may be full of eagle-wood. Attempt not to command me, attempt not to conceal yourself from me, for if you do you shall be a rebel unto the Lord.”?

169 This statement must not be accepted without reserve, though it may be true of the particular districts in which the information contained in this article was collected.?

170 In some parts of Selangor, said to be called “nibong” or gharu “tulang ayam.”?

171 In Selangor called gharu “jenjolong.”?

172 Here “lampan” (?)?

173 Yet another variety is called in Selangor gharu “isi kang tua.” The following are the names of certain other, gharu-trees, of which the product, however, is said to be useless for market purposes. They are gharu tutor, gharu dedap, gharu kundor, and gharu akar.?

174 A pikul is 133? lbs. avoir.?

175 R.N.B. in J.R.A.S., S.B., No. 18, pp. 359–361.?

176 On putting this theory to the test, I found that the singing noise referred to was in reality nothing but the low whispering noise caused by the flow of the sap, which could be distinctly heard, even without putting the ear to the bark, when the tree was struck by the cutlass. The Malays, however, look upon it as the voice of the spirit, and add that if you hear it at night you must repeat the charm, altering the first line only to “Ho, offspring of the King of Forest Butterflies” (Hei anak S’ri Rama-rama hutan).?

177 “The gaharu merupa is a piece of strangely formed gaharu wood, having a rough resemblance to some living creature, be it a bird, a dog, a cat, or something else.

“The writer of these lines has never been able to see one of these gaharu merupa, and it would seem that none have been found in Siak in recent times.

“The power which it is believed to possess rests on the supposition that it is the spirit of the kayu gaharu. With it in hand, the holder is sure to make large finds of gaharu wood in the jungle.

“The gaharu wood is not the wood of a tree named gaharu, but is the product of a tree of the name of karas.”—J.R.A.S., S.B., No. 17, p. 154.?

178 J.R.A.S., S.B., No. 26, pp. 39, 40.?

179 Orang hulu literally means “men of the inland country,” but here denotes especially the aborigines known to the Malays as Jakun, orang hutan, orang bukit, and by other names.?

180 J. I. A., vol. i. p. 293. Nos. 1, 3, and 8 of the J.R.A.S., S.B., contain further notes on the subject.?

181 Sic: no doubt this is for sambal, a variety of condiments (more or less resembling chutney) and eaten with curry.?

182 Penghulu Kapur, i.e. “Camphor Chief.”?

183 “Camphor is a gum (not the pith or heart of wood, as Avicenna and some others think), which, falling into the pith-chamber of the wood, is extracted thence or exudes from the cracks. This I saw in a table of camphor wood at a certain apothecary’s, and in a piece of wood as thick as the thigh, presented to me by Governor John Crasto, and again in a tablet a span broad at a merchant’s. I would not, however, deny that it may sometimes be deposited in the hollow of a tree. It is told me as a fact, that it is the custom that when any one who goes out to collect it has filled his gourd, if any other stronger person sees him with the gourd, he can kill him with impunity and take away the gourd, fortune assisting him in this. That which is brought from Borneo is usually mixed with small bits of stone, or some kind of gum called Chamderros, much like raw sugar or sawdust. But this defect is easily detected; I know no other method of adulteration. For if sometimes it is seen to be spotted with red or blackish dots, that is due to treatment with dirty or impure hands, or they may be caused by moisture. But this defect is easily remedied by the Indians. If it is tied up in a cloth and dipped in warm water to which soap and lime-juice has been added, and then carefully dried in the shade, it becomes very white, the weight not being altered. I saw this done by a Hindu friend who entrusted me with the secret.... What they say as to all kinds of animals flying together to its shade to escape the fiercer beasts is fabulous. Nor is it what some, following Serapion, write less so, namely, that it is an omen of larger yields when the sky glitters with frequent lightning, or echoes with constant thunder. For as the island of Sumatra, which some think to be Taprobane, and the adjacent regions are near the equinoctial line, it follows that they are subject to constant thunderstorms, and for the same cause have storms or slight showers every day; so camphor ought to be abundant every year. From which it is clear that the thunder is neither the cause nor indication of a larger supply of camphor.”—Garcia in the Historia Aromatum (1593), quoted in J.R.A.S., S.B., No. 26, p. 37.

“The camphor is so far considered as a barang larangan that nobody is allowed to go and collect it without having a special permit from the Sultan. This permit is only given after the Sultan has made sure that a good Pawang accompanies the party, a man who is able to know from the outside of a tree whether it contains camphor or not.

“The gratuity to be given to the Pawang is not fixed by law, but is settled beforehand on every expedition; also the share of the Sultan.

“The regulations which have to be observed when collecting camphor are most strange; for instance, those who go on the expedition are not permitted during the whole time of its duration to wash or bathe; they have to use a peculiar language, which differs from ordinary Malay. Compare what is known on this point of similar usages amongst the Battaks.

“The collectors have to go on through the jungle until the hantu kapur (the camphor spirit), a female, appears to the Pawang in his dreams, and shows him the direction in which success may be expected.”—J.R.A.S., S.B., No. 17, pp. 155, 156. This account has reference to Siak, in Sumatra.?

184 Vide App. lxxxix.?

185 These last five lines contain allusions to the implements with which the Pawang does his work; the Ivory Cup is the tagok, a bamboo vessel in which the sap of the Blossom-shoot is received. The Ivory Bath is the copper in which the cocoa-nut sugar is made, the name given to it being an allusion to the chemical change which accompanies the process.?

186 Inche Muhammad Ja?far, of Malacca.?

187 [In 1893 these months extended from the 17th May to the 14th July.—C.O.B.]?

188 [In 1893 from the 16th May to the 13th June.—C.O.B.]?

189 In what may be called the “dry” method of planting rice (berhuma or berladang) the ceremonies naturally differ somewhat, as the forest has to be felled, if not every year, at least more often than is the case with the “wet” system; and the rice-seed is not sown in nurseries (as a rule), but either scattered broadcast or planted with the dibble whilst the ground cultivated is comparatively dry and no embankments are required. This is not, of course, intended to be an exhaustive description of the differences between the two systems (for which there is here no space), but merely to point out certain salient differences. A specimen of the charms used by the orang berhuma (“dry padi” planters) will be found in the Appendix. The account in the text refers only to the wet method, which is by far the more important one, though the dry cultivation is probably the more ancient of the two.?

190 An account of the birth of Muhammad which is intoned by a number of people in the mosque.?

191 The tajak may perhaps be better described as a (kind of) hoe than a scythe.?

192 Two strips of cocoa-nut leaf are braided into a square bag, hollow inside, which is half filled with rice, and then boiled so that when cooked the rice fills the bag.?

193 Flour is mixed with sugar and with the expressed juice of the pulp of the cocoa-nut, and put into a piece of plantain leaf about two fingers long, which is then folded and the whole is steamed, that is put into a pail known as kukusan, which is placed in a large pan containing water having a fire lighted under it so that the contents of the kukusan are cooked by means of steam only.?

194 Tepong tawar consists of rice-flour mixed with water. A bundle is made of the following leaves, ribu-ribu (a creeper), gandarusa, senjuang, sambar dara, sipuleh, sitawar and chakar bebek (a small shrub); the end of this bundle is dipped into the tepong tawar, which is then sprinkled about.?

195 The italics are mine.—W. S.?

196 Licuala paludosa, Griff, and other species.?

197 Jari lipan—lit. centipede’s feet, i.e. a sort of fringe generally made of plaited strips of cocoa-nut leaf.?

198 Terap—a kind of wild bread-fruit tree.?

199 Strips of bamboo or fronds of palm-leaf braided into an open square shape with cords attached to the four corners, the ends of the cords being joined so that it can be hung up.?

200 Buah keras, the “Candle-nut.”?

201 The cut rice is beaten, by handfuls, against the inner edge of the bucket so that the grain falls into the bucket; this process is called membanting padi, a phrase here rendered by “threshing.”?

202 The tuai or penuwai is a much smaller instrument than the sickle (sabit) and cuts only a few ears at a time, vide supra, p. 58.?

203 A koyan, as a measure of weight, contains 40 pikuls = 5333? lbs.

Rather over 20 gallons (gantang) of rice (padi) go to a pikul.

The term koyan is also used as a measure of capacity, in which sense it contains 800 gantangs.

The term gantang has been rendered here by “gallon,” of which it is at present the legal equivalent, but the native gantang had a standard varying according to locality.?

204 J.R.A.S., S.B., No. 30, pp. 297–304.?

205 On my asking her what these names signified, the Pawang told me that “s’ri gading” meant the husk, and “gemala gading” the kernel or grain of the rice-fruit.?

206 Menangkabau and Naning pronunciation for berpuar. Puar is the name of a jungle plant, said to be akin to cardamom, the stem of which is used as a sort of javelin in this mock combat. [In Selangor this mock combat is called singketa.—W.S.]?

207 Beras bertih, “parched” rice.?

208 Five would probably be nearer the mark, but Malay chronology is very uncertain.?

209 J.R.A.S., S.B., No. 29, pp. 7–12.?

210 These were newly-plaited round baskets, three in number, and diminishing in size from the Pawang’s right to her left (the big one being supposed to contain seven, the medium size five, and the smallest one three, gemalan of padi); they were each bound round, just under the rim, with the female variety of the creeper called ribu-ribu freshly gathered that morning.?

211 One of these was called the penuwei sulong (lit. eldest rice-cutter), which was only to be used—when the Pawang had done with it—by the owner of the rice-field, and the blade of which is fitted into a piece of the wood called pompong; the reason given being that the pompong was the wood of which these instruments were originally made, whilst what I may call the handle of the instrument was made of a slip of bamboo stopped from end to end with wax. About the other two penuweis there was nothing specially remarkable.?

212 These are the names of two girls mentioned in the “Malay Annals” (Sejarah Malayu) to whose rice there happened a strange phenomenon. The following is Leyden’s translation (in which the names appear as Ampu and Malin). “The name of its (the country of Palembang’s) river was Muartatang (Muartenang ?) into which falls another river named Sungey Malayu (Malay River), near the source of which is a mountain named the mountain Sagantang Maha Miru (v. p. 2, supra). There were two young women of Belidung, the one named Wan-Ampu, and the other Wan-Malin, employed in cultivating rice on this mountain, where they had large and productive rice-grounds. One night they beheld their rice-fields gleaming and glittering like fire. Then said Ampu to Malin, ‘What is that light which is so brilliant? I am frightened to look at it.’ ‘Make no noise,’ said Malin, ‘it is some great snake or naga.’ Then they both lay quiet for fear. When it was daylight they arose and went to see what it was shone so bright during the night. They both ascended the hill, and found the grain of the rice converted into gold, the leaves into silver, and the stalks into brass, and they were extremely surprised, and said, ‘This is what we observed during the night.’” The account proceeds to show how the prodigy was due to a supernatural visit from a descendant of Raja Secander Zulkarneini.—Leyden, Mal. Ann., pp. 20, 21. The words in brackets are mine.?

213 Whilst drawing together the heads of the sheaf before actually planting the sugar-cane in the ground, the following lines were repeated by the Pawang:—

“Kur semangat, S’ri Gading, Gemala Gading!

Batang-’kau perak bertuang

Daun-’kau tembaga belepeh,

Tangkei-’kau ’mas, buah ’kau ’mas rantian” (sic).

I have not been able to discover what ’mas rantian means, as the Pawang could not explain it (though she insisted that it was right), and it is not in any dictionary.?

214 The Muhammadan name for the Founder of Christianity.?

215 During the performance of this part of the ceremony (which is called cherangkan tali t’rap) omens are taken as to the prosperity or otherwise of the people of the house, and the observations have therefore to be made with the greatest care. The most disastrous omen is the cawing of a crow or rook; next to this (in point of disastrous significance) comes the mewing cry of the kite, and, thirdly, the flight of the ground-dove (tekukur). A good omen is the flight of the bird called the Rice’s Husband (Laki Padi), but the best omen is the absence of any portent or sound, even such as the falling of a tree, the crackling of a branch, or a shout in the distance, all of which are harbingers of misfortune of some sort.?

216 The Pawang said to me afterwards, when I questioned her about this, “If you want your husked rice to be white and smooth (puteh lanchap) you must stand up facing the sun at nine o’clock (angkat kening, lit. ‘Raise the eyebrow’), turn up the whites of your eyes, swallow the water in your mouth, and your rice will be smooth and white and easily swallowed. But if you want it to be a little rough (kesat), so that you may not be tempted to eat too much of it during hard times, instead of directly swallowing the water in your mouth, you must put the tip of your tongue to the roof of your mouth, and contract the throat thrice, slowly swallowing as you do so.” To the above she then added: “Besides this, you can make the whole field of rice break into waves by standing up, clapping the hands, and then pushing each hand right up the sleeve of the opposite arm (I am not quite sure if I rightly understood this last, but am fairly certain that it is correct—my notes have only ‘run the hands up the arms’), saying as you do so:—

This will swell the grains, and prevent them from getting empty (minching, jangan banyak hampa).”?

217 This umbrella had been forgotten, and we were compelled to wait while one of the “bearers” returned to the house to fetch it; as without it, I was told, the Rice-child could not be escorted home.?

218 I was told by the Pawang that when the three reapers had each filled her basket, each of them tied the leaves of the rice clumps together, and dug up a lump of earth with the great toe of the left foot, and inserting the lump into the midst of each clump, repeated the following words:—

?

219 A cat having given birth to kittens the night before the ceremony, I was told by the Pawang that it was a very good sign, and that it was a known rule that if there was nobody else who could bear children at the time, God was wont to substitute a cat (menggantikan kuching).?

220 The drying usually takes longer, but the exceptional heat of the sun on the day in question enabled the operation to be hastened.?

221 Nothing of the male sex may stand or sit opposite the point of the sieve (nyiru) during this winnowing.?

222 The charms are the same as those given supra, viz. “A swallow has fallen,” etc., and “Herons from all this region.” They are in the pantun form, and accordingly there is little connection discernible between the first and the second half of the quatrain; the latter always contains the actual point, the former at most something analogous or remotely parallel.?

223 The extreme voluminousness of Malay folk-lore upon the subject of rice-planting makes it impossible to do more than give a general idea of the ceremonies described. The ceremonies, however, are comparatively homogeneous in all parts of the Peninsula, and the specimens given may be taken as fairly representative. In the Appendix (xciii. seqq.), will be found a number of invocations, collected by Mr. O’Sullivan and myself, which are addressed to the rice-spirit and may help to emphasise or explain some of the details. One of these invocations should certainly help to emphasise the strength of the anthropomorphic conception of the Rice-soul as held by Malays. It runs as follows (vide App. cx.):—

“Cluck, cluck, soul of my child!

Come and return home with me,

Our agreement has reached its term.

Let not the Heat afflict you,

Let not the Wind afflict you.

Let not Mosquitoes bite you,

Let not Sandflies or Midges bite you.”

224 J.R.A.S., S.B., No. 16, pp. 303–320.?

225 Report on the Geology and Physical Geography of the State of PÊrak, by Rev. J. E. Tennison-Wood, F.G.S., F.L.S., etc.?

226 The mining contractor, also called towkay lombong and towkay labur, vide infra.?

227 Lit. “Taboo language.”?

228 Berolak here means to “turn one’s self about,” and the whole phrase would mean “The Tall One that Turns Himself about”—perhaps the “Tall Loafer” would be as near as we can get to it in English. So, too, berolak dapor means “The Kitchen Loafer” (Loafer of the Kitchen).?

229 Sial means literally anything which brings bad luck; so perhaps we might translate it “Mr. Bad-luck.”?

230 Salah nama means “Wrong name” (Misnomer); limau nipis, lit. means “thin lime.”?

231 Kongsi, i.e. “company, firm, gang.”?

232 Pantang, i.e. “taboo.”?

233 Buah rumput means “Grass-seed;” Bunga rumput, “Grass-flower.”?

234 Akar hidop, lit. “live creeper.” The allusion is obvious.?

235 Kunyit means “saffron.” The allusion is not evident.?

236 Batu puteh means “white stone” or “white rock.”?

237 Genggulang, explained by Mr. Hale as meaning “altar,” vide p. 260, infra.?

238 About 1878, the principal pawang of the LÂrut district, one Pa’Itam Dam, applied to me as Assistant-Resident to reinstate him in the duties and privileges which he had enjoyed under the Orang Kaya Mantri, and before him, under Che Long J?affar. He describes the customary ceremonies and dues to be as follows:—He had to visit all the mines from time to time, especially those from which tin-ore was being removed; if the daily output of tin suddenly decreased on any mine it was his business at once to repeat certain invocations (puja) to induce the tin-ore to remain (handak di-pulih balik sapaya jangan mengorang biji). Once in every two or three years it was necessary to carry out an important ceremony (puja besar) which involved the slaying of three buffaloes and a great feast, the expense of which had to be borne by the pawang. On the day of the puja besar strict abstinence from work is enjoined on every one in the district, no one might break ground or even pull up weeds or cut wood in the whole province. Further, no stranger whose home was three days’ journey away might enter one of the mines under a penalty of twenty-five dollars.

The pawang was entitled to exact from the owners of mines a customary payment of one slab of tin (or $6.25 in cash) per annum for every sluice-box (palong) in work during the year.

In any mine from which the tin-ore had not yet been removed it was strictly forbidden to wear shoes or to carry an umbrella; no Malay might wear a sarong.

The Chinese miners, always superstitiously disposed, used (under Malay rule) to adhere to these rules and submit to these exactions, but since 1875 the pawang has found his occupation and income, in LÂrut at all events, gone.—Ed. J.R.A.S., S.B.?

239 Altar.?

240 A small tray or platform for offerings, supported by a central “leg,” vide Mr. Hale’s description, s.v. Kapala nasi (infra).?

241 Gantang is a measure approximately equivalent to a gallon.?

242 In Selangor anchak is the form used. It means a sacrificial tray (for offerings to the spirits), vide infra, pp. 260, 310–313, 414–423.?

243 Lit. the “Magician’s wear.”?

244 Ra?iyat is used here to denote a man of the common people, as opposed to a Chief or Raja. It is sometimes used by Malays in other senses.?

245 Seperti sungkei be-rendam, “like a soaked sungkei stick.” When the sungkei stick has been soaked for a long time, say three months, the peel comes clean away; proverbial expression used of a person “cleaned out.”?

246 Beam or rafter of the shed.?

247 Palm-leaf thatch.?

248 Forbes mentions a “palm-leaf fringe” used in certain rites by the Kalangs of Java.—A Naturalist’s Wanderings, p. 101.?

249 “It is quite a common thing in Java to encounter by the wayside near a village, or in a rice-field, or below the shade of a great dark tree, a little platform with an offering of rice and prepared fruits to keep disease and blight at a distance and propitiate the spirits.”—A Naturalist’s Wanderings, Forbes, p. 103.?

250 In Selangor this custom is now obsolete.—Sel. Jour. vol. iii. No. 18, p. 294.?

251 The derivation of the name of this primitive Malay censer from the Sanskrit Çankha (conch shell) has been pointed out (Maxwell, Malay Manual, p. 32). Forbes notes having seen in a sacred grove in Java “the remnants of small torches of sweet gums which had been offered.”—A Naturalist’s Wanderings, p. 97.?

252 J.R.A.S., S.B., No. 16, pp. 310–320.?

253 Cliff. and Swett., Malay Dict., s.v. Amang: “tourmaline, wolfram, and titaniferous iron-ore are all called by this name. They are all considered impurities, and tourmaline is the one most commonly met with.”?

254 The Malay was saperti ulat hidup, which would rather mean “like live maggots.”—W.S.?

255 Sel. Journ. vol. iii. No. 18, pp. 293, 294.?

256 Sel. Journ. vol. iv. No. 2, p. 26.?

257 i.e. tin-bearing stratum and stone overlying the ore.?

258 i.e. his “connections.”?

259 Sel. Journ. vol. iv. No. 8, p. 139.?

260 “This my tank” is an allusion to the mine, the system on which mines are worked in the Malay States being that of the removal of the overburden, which, of course, forms immense pits, such as are here likened to an (empty) tank or reservoir.?

261 A plant, possibly Solanum aculeatissimum, Jacq., which has very thorny orange-coloured fruits.?

262 Sega is a species of rattan (Calamus viminalis or Calamus ornatus, Griff.); but probably the better reading here is segar, which means a long black spike of the kabong-palm (Arenga saccharifera, L.)?

263 Presumably a corruption of Iskandar zu ’l-Karnain, i.e. Alexander the Great, who plays a considerable part in Malay legendary history.?

264 Vide App. cxviii., cxix.?

265 Oryza sativa, L. var.?

266 Batin is a title of certain Chiefs amongst the aboriginal tribes of the southern part of the Peninsula. It appears to have been in former days sometimes borne by Malays also.?

267 Ketong as a dry measure is not to be found in the dictionaries. V. d. Wall, however, gives a form kentong (with which it may be connected) as meaning an earthen pot, formerly used for holding lalang-sugar.?

268 An arai is an Achinese measure [= 2 chupak], about 3? lbs.?

269 Sic: quÆre lombong??

270 Denys, Descr. Dict. of Brit. Malaya, s.v. Gold.?

271 Vide Leyden, Malay Annals, p. 94. “He (the Sultan), also prohibited the ornamenting of creeses with gold, and the wearing anklets of gold, and the wearing the koronchong, or hollow bracelets of gold, ornamented with silver.”

Two legends, which connect the wild boar with the precious metals, have already been mentioned, vide p. 188, supra.?

272 Vide v. d. Wall, Malay-Dutch Dict., s.v. Kawi, one of the meanings of which he explains as the supernatural power of anything. He proceeds to explain besi kawi as follows:—It is “a piece of old scrap-iron with supernatural powers, belonging to the royal insignia of the former Kingdom of Johor, now [then?] in the possession of the Sultan of Lingga. Whenever an oath was to be taken by a subject, the Iron would be immersed in water for a time, and the patient [sic] had to drink of this water before he took the oath. Whoever took a false oath would be affected by a severe sickness, and in the case of a Chief the sickness affects the whole tribe.”

Bisa kawi is another (West Sumatran) form of this expression. Under Bisa III., q.v., v. d. W. remarks that to say, “May you be struck by the Bisa Kawi” (lit. Poison of Kawi), is the ugliest wish you can address to anybody, as it is supposed to bring upon the person so addressed every possible kind of sickness.?

273 For examples vide the charms quoted in almost every part of this book.?

274 “It is a very general belief among Malays that GulÎga [and] BÛntat, viz. stones that are found in the bodies of animals or contained in trees, have great magic and vegetable virtue. These stones are worn as charms, and are also scraped, the scrapings being mixed with water and given to the sick as medicine.”—Pubns. of the R.A.S., S.B., No. 3, p. 26 n.?

275 This idea recalls a similar superstition about what are called in the Straits Settlements “breeding-pearls,” i.e. a kind of pearl which is supposed to reproduce itself when kept in a box and fed with pulut rice for a sufficiently lengthy period.—Vide J.R.A.S., S.B., No. 1, pp. 31–37, No. 3, pp. 140–143.?

276 “The Guliga, more commonly known as Bezoar, forms a recognised article of export from the Rejang and Bintulu rivers in the Sarawak territory. These concretions are chiefly obtained from a red monkey (a species of Semnopithecus), which seems to be very abundant in the interior districts of Borneo. A more valuable Guliga, called the ‘Guliga Landak,’ is obtained from the porcupine, but it is comparatively rare. The Sepoys stationed at Sibu Fort in the Rejang formerly exported considerable numbers of these calculi to Hindustan, where, in addition to their supposed efficacy as an antidote for the poison of snakes and other venomous creatures, they appear to be applied, either alone or in combination with other medicines, to the treatment of fevers, asthmatic complaints, general debility, etc. A few years ago, however, these men ceased to send any but the Guliga Landak, since their hakims had informed them that the concretions obtained from the monkeys had come to be considered of very doubtful, if any, value from a medicinal point of view. The usual test for a good Guliga is to place a little chunam on the hand and to rub the Guliga against it, when, if it be genuine, the lime becomes tinged with yellow. Imitations are by no means rare, and on one occasion which came to my own knowledge, some Bakatans succeeded in deceiving the Chinamen, who trade in these articles, by carefully moulding some fine light clay into the form of a Bezoar, and then rubbing it well all over with a genuine one. The extreme lightness of a real Guliga and the lime test are, however, generally sufficient to expose a counterfeit Bezoar. The Sepoys and Malays apply various imaginary tests. Thus they assert that if a true Guliga be clasped in the closed fist the bitter taste of the concretion will be plainly susceptible to the tongue when applied to the back of the hand, and even above the elbow if the Guliga be a good ‘Landak’; and a Sepoy once assured me that having accidentally broken one of the latter he immediately was sensible of a bitter taste in the mouth.

“Accounts vary very much among the natives as to the exact position in which the Guligas are found: some saying they may occur in any part of the body, others that they occur only in the stomach and intestines, whilst I have heard others declare that they have taken them from the head and even the hand! Bezoar stones are sold by weight, the gold scale being used, and the value varies according to quality and to the scarcity or abundance of the commodity at the time of sale. The ordinary prices paid at Rejang a few years ago were from $1.50 to $2 per amas for common stones and from $2.50 to $4 per amas for Guliga Landak. I have seen one of the latter which was valued at $100. It was about the size of an average Tangiers orange, and was perfectly spherical. The surface, where not artificially abraded, was smooth, shining, bronze-brown, studded with numerous irregularly-shaped fragments of dark rich brown standing out slightly above the general mass of the calculus. These fragments, in size and appearance, bore a close resemblance to the crystals in a coarse-grained porphyritic rock.

“The common monkey-bezoars vary much in colour and shape. I have seen them of the size of large filberts, curiously convoluted and cordate in shape, with a smooth, shining surface of a pale olive-green hue. Mr. A. R. Houghton once showed me one which was an inch and a half long, and shaped like an Indian club. It was of a dirty greenish colour, perfectly smooth and cylindrical, and it had become aggregated around a portion of a sumpitan dart, which appears to have penetrated the animal’s stomach, and being broken off short has subsequently served as the nucleus for the formation of a calculus. The same gentleman had in his possession two Landak stones, one of which bore a close resemblance to a block in shape, and was of a bright green colour, and the second was of a rich chocolate brown, and could best be likened in form to a constable’s staff. One porcupine stone which was opened was found to be a mere shell full of small brown shavings like shred tobacco.

“The part of the island which produces these stones in greatest abundance seems to be, by a coincidence of native reports, the district about the upper waters of the BaluÑgar (Batang Kayan). The story is that the head-waters of this river are cut off from its lower course by an extensive tract of hills beneath which the river disappears, a report by no means unlikely if the country be, as is probable, limestone. The people of the district have no communication with the lower course of the river, and are thus without any supply of salt. In lieu of this necessity they make use of the waters of certain springs, which must be saline mineral springs, and which the Kayans call ‘SuÑgan.’ These springs are also frequented by troops of the red monkeys before mentioned, and the Bezoars are most constantly found in the stomachs of these animals through their drinking the saline water. The hunters lie in wait about such springs, and, so runs the report, on the animals coming down to drink they are able to guess with tolerable certainty from external signs which of the monkeys will afford the Guliga, and they forthwith shoot such with their sumpitans. I have this account, curious in more ways than one, from several quite independent sources. In concluding these brief notes, I may remark that the wide-spread idea of the medicinal virtue of these concretions would lead us to suppose that there is some foundation for their reputation.”—J.R.A.S., S.B., No. 4, pp. 56–58.

“The guliga in Siak, which is considered to belong to the larangan raja [royal property], is an intestinal stone found in a kind of porcupine living principally in the upper reaches of the Mandau. The Sakeis living in this region are the only persons who collect these stones, which they deliver to the Sultan partly as a revenue, partly as barang larangan.

“By right all the guligas found by them are the Sultan’s; the greater number, however, are clandestinely sold to Malay and Chinese traders.

“According to their size they are worth from $40 to $600 a piece.

“Their value, however, does not merely rise with their weight but, as in the case of precious stones, rises out of all proportion with the mere increase in weight. A guliga weighing 1 ringgit (8 mayam) costs $600, whereas one of the weight of 3 mayam will only be worth $100.

“For guligas, particularly large ones, extraordinary prices are sometimes paid. The Sultan of Siak possesses one said to be valued at $900.

“Natives maintain that they are an almost infallible medicine in cases of chest or bowel complaints, but their principal value is founded on their reputed virtue as a powerful aphrodisiac. To operate in this way one is worn on the navel tied up in a piece of cloth, or water in which one has been soaked is drunk.”—F. Kehding on Siak (Sumatra) in J.R.A.S., S.B., No. 17, pp. 153–4.?

277 J.R.A.S., S.B., No. 9, p. 24 n. As to Paujangi (Pauh Janggi) vide pp. 6–9, supra.?

278 Vide Chapter IV. supra.?

279 For the charm used at the insertion of the twigs, vide App. cxxii.?

280 Vide App. cxxiv.?

281 J.R.A.S., S.B., No. 9, p. 26.?

282 This recalls the account in Northern mythology of the four rivers which are said to flow from the teats of the cow Audhumla.

In a great many Malay myths the colour white is an all-important feature. In this legend we have the white Semang and the white river. In others white animals and white birds are introduced.?

283 J.R.A.S., S.B., No. 9, p. 95.?

284 J.R.A.S., S.B., No. 7, pp. 24–26.?

285 The most usual name of the crocodile-spirit, as given in such charms as I have succeeded in collecting, is Sambu Agai, or, as it is also called, Jambu Rakai.?

286 Kira-kira means “accounts.”?

287 Selangor Journal, vol. iii. No. 6, pp. 93, 94.?

288 The shortness of the crocodile’s tongue, which is a mere stump of a tongue, has probably given rise to this idea.?

289 Also sometimes called “Apa daya,” lit. “What device?” or “What resource?” The front teeth are also sometimes called kail seluang, or “seluang” hook, or hook for catching the seluang, a small fish resembling the sardine.—Vide H. C. C. in N. and Q. No. 4, sec. 95, issued with No. 17 of the J.R.A.S., S.B.?

290 The question of the mental attributes ascribed to the crocodile is one of great interest, as it is credited by Malays with a human origin. It is not alleged to shed tears over his victim; but, as the above account shows, it is far from insensible to the enormity of manslaughter. At the same time, it is credited with strong common sense (since it is known to “laugh” at those misguided mortals “who pole a boat down stream,” no less than the tiger which “laughs” at those who “carry a torch on a moonlight night”), and also has a strict regard for honesty. (Vide infra.)?

291 Rewritten from Sel. Journ. vol. iii. No. 19, pp. 309–312.?

292 A native-built canoe hollowed out of a tree-trunk is no doubt referred to.?

293 Mangrove, of various species, chiefly RhizophoreÆ.?

294 Sel. Journ. vol. i. No. 22, pp. 350–351.?

295 Vide App. cxxviii.?

296 Vide App. cxxx.?

297 This and the preceding lines clearly refer to the fable quoted by Sir W. E. Maxwell. There are, however, many differences in minor details, one version asserting that the head of the first crocodile was made from the central shoot or cabbage of a cocoa-nut (umbi niyor), its blood of saffron, and its eyes from the star of the east; another asserting that its dorsal ridge was manufactured (by Siti Fatimah) from the eaves of the thatch.?

298 Her Highness Princess Rundok, as appears from the line below, in which she is again referred to, is evidently the name given to the fowl used as a bait.?

299

Jangan angkau lari!

Perjanjian kita sa-tanjong ka hulu,

Sa-tanjong ka hilir.

?

300

?

301 Angkau menangkap Si Anu??

302 Vide Chap. VI. pp. 325–327, infra.?

303 Mr. L. Wray in “Perak Museum Notes,” quoted in the Selangor Journal, vol. iii. No. 6, p. 94.?

304 Other accounts make it out to be of a golden colour. Vide p. 506, infra.?

305 I have heard this same word used to describe a sort of unnatural “glow” which was supposed to illumine certain parts of the country at night; one such region being a portion of the coast at Lukut in Sungei Ujong.?

306 Clifford, In Court and Kampong, p. 189.?

307 Selangor Journal, vol. iii. No. 6, p. 92.?

308 Ibid., p. 91.?

309 A kind of flat fish (sole?), also ikan lidah-lidah and lelidah, probably derived from lidah, a tongue, owing to its shape. This fish is sometimes called sisa Nabi, or the “Prophet’s leavings,” the story being that it had originally the same amount of flesh on both sides, but that the Prophet Muhammad, having eaten the whole side of one of these fish (which had been cooked and served up to him as a meal) cast the remaining side back into the sea, whereupon it revived and commenced swimming about as if nothing had happened, retaining, however, the shape of a flat fish to the present day.

Cp. the following note in Sale’s Translation of the KorÂn:—

“This miracle is thus related by the commentators. Jesus having, at the request of his followers, asked it of God, a red table immediately descended, in their sight, between two clouds, and was set before them, whereupon he rose up, and having made the ablution, prayed, and then took off the cloth which covered the table, saying, In the name of God, the best provider of food. What the provisions were with which this table was furnished is a matter wherein the expositors are not agreed. One will have them to be nine cakes of bread and nine fishes; another, bread and flesh; another, all sorts of food, except flesh; another, all sorts of food except bread and flesh; another, all except bread and fish; another, one fish, which had the taste of all manner of food; and another, fruits of paradise, but the most received tradition is that when the table was uncovered, there appeared a fish ready dressed, without scales or prickly fins, dropping with fat, having salt placed at its head and vinegar at its tail, and round it all sorts of herbs, except leeks, and five loaves of bread, on one of which there were olives, on the second honey, on the third butter, on the fourth, cheese, and on the fifth, dried flesh. They add that Jesus, at the request of the apostles, showed them another miracle, by restoring the fish to life, and causing its scales and fins to return to it, at which the standers-by being affrighted, he caused it to become as before; that 1300 men and women, all afflicted with bodily infirmities or poverty, ate of these provisions and were satisfied, the fish remaining whole as it was at first; that then the table flew up to heaven in the sight of all; and every one who had partaken of this food were delivered from their infirmities and misfortunes; and that it continued to descend for forty days together at dinner-time, and stood on the ground till the sun declined, and was then taken up into the clouds. Some of the Mohammedan writers are of opinion that this table did not really descend, but that it was only a parable; but most think the words of the Koran are plain to the contrary. A further tradition is, that several men were changed into swine for disbelieving this miracle, and attributing it to magic art; or, as others pretend, for stealing some of the victuals from off it. Several other fabulous circumstances are also told which are scarce worth transcribing.”—Sale’s KorÂn Trans. ch. v. p. 87, note.?

310 Maxwell in J.R.A.S., S.B., No. 7, p. 26.?

311 The tears of the dugong are believed to be an exceedingly potent love-charm.—Vide Swettenham, Unaddressed Letters, p. 217.

“Like most nations dwelling near the sea, the Malays have their mermaids, of which the dugong is the probable origin.—J.I.A., i. 9.”—Quoted by Denys, Dict. Brit. Mal., s.v. Mermaid.?

312 Vide, however, supra.?

313 Mr. Wray no doubt refers to the b’rudu (tadpole), the upper half of which is declared by Selangor Malays to develop into a frog (katak), while the hinder part develops into the ikan lembat.?

314 Sel. Journ. vol. iii. No. 6, p. 93.?

315 Vide App. cclxxiv.?

316 These were trays of the kind called anchak which are used by the Malays to contain offerings to the spirits. For fuller details, cp. pp. 414–422, infra.?

317 For details of a similar ceremony, vide pp. 416–418, infra.?

318 The composition of these brushes varies apparently according to the ceremony which is to be performed. In this case leaves or sprays of the following plants were used:—

1. Sapenoh.

2. Lenjuang merah (the red DracÆna).

3. Gandarusa.

4. Satawar.

5. Sadingin.

6. Pulut-pulut (?) or Selaguri (?)

7. Mangrove (bakau).

These leaves were tied together with a small creeper called ribu-ribu (a so-called “female” variety, which is said to have larger leaves than the “male variety,” being used). For further details, vide Chap. III. pp. 78–80, supra.?

319 The following is a list, as correct as I was able to make it, of the number and order of the offerings which were thus distributed:—

• 1. A portion of parched rice.
• 2. A portion of sweet potatoes.
• 3. Two (cooked) bananas.
• 4. Two lepats (small cylindrical rice-bags).
• 5. Three (cooked) bananas.
• 6. Two ketupats (small diamond-shaped bags).
• 7. Three yams (k’ladi).
• 8. A portion of parched rice.
• 9. Three short lengths of the stem of the tapioca plant (ubi kayu).
• 10. Three sweet potatoes.
• 11. Four sweet potatoes.
• 12. A portion of uncooked liver (hati).
• 13. A portion of cooked meat.
• 14. Four sweet potatoes.
• 15. Three cooked bananas.
• 16. Three ketupats.
• 17. Three (green) bananas.
• 18. Three ketupats.
• 19.

  Three

  ,,

  ,,

  ketupats

  ,,

  .

• 20. Three green bananas.
• 21.

  Three

  ,,

  green

  ,,

  bananas.

  ,,

• 22. Three sweet potatoes.
• 23. Three yams.
• 24. Three lepats.
• 25.

  Three

  ,,

  ,,

  lepats

  ,,

  .

• 26. Two lepats.
• 27. Five ketupats.
• 28. Two yams.
• 29. Two sweet potatoes.
• 30. One cooked banana.
• 31. Three handfuls of white pulut rice.
• 32. Three handfuls of parched rice.

?

320 This was one of the tide-braces which are used to strengthen the stakes, the one used being that on the left hand looking seaward.?

321 Kelong is the name given to one of the kinds of fishing-stakes (something like weirs) common on the coasts of the Peninsula.?

322 A different Pawang gave me the following (alternative) instructions:—“When you are about to plant the (first) seaward pole of the fishing-stakes, take hold of it and say:—

“Here plant the pole, and say:—

?

323 Jermal is another kind of fish-trap, different from the kelong.?

324 Denys, Descr. Dict. of Brit. Mal., s.v. Fire.?

325

?

326 The Mouse-deer is said to have cursed his mother-in-law, saying:—”Kalau betul aku pemainan Raja Suleiman angkau bersayap.”?

327 Illumination with tiny lamps is also common on feast-days (hari raya), especially at the end of the Month of Fasting; and the Malays have to some extent adopted the Chinese penchant for fireworks.?