Through Central Borneo Part 15

CHAPTER XXVI

AMONG THE LONG-GLATS--IS FEAR OF EXPOSURE TO THE SUN JUSTIFIED?-- CHARACTERISTICS OF THE LONG-GLATS--GOOD-BYE TO THE MAHAKAM

In the latter part of July we went to the near-by kampong, Long Tujo ("a small animal with many legs"), situated at the mouth of another small tributary to the Mahakam. Here live Long-Glats who are located below the other Bahau peoples of the river and are found as far as Batokelau, between the upper and lower rapids. Though Long Iram is rather distant--five days'

travel down-stream, and, if the river is high, perhaps two months may be consumed in returning--still its influence was evidenced by the several umbrellas I saw, all black, an adaptation from the high-cla.s.s Malays and an unusual sight in these parts. The kapala of this large kampong resembled a Malay raja, in that he always carried an umbrella when he walked and looked pale because the sun was not allowed to shine upon him. Two days later, when I photographed the ladies performing dances, they had at least five of these fashionable contrivances.

It may be stated that natives of the Dutch Indies are generally afraid of the sun. Well-to-do Malays carry umbrellas as a protection against it. In Batavia I read in the newspapers that the Sultan of Priok, when visiting an aviation camp, was so overcome by the heat that he had to be carried away, regaining consciousness on arriving at his quarters. However, the attack may have been induced to some extent by general lack of exercise and the indolent life that characterises his compatriots who occupy high positions.

Even some of the pagan tribes protect their heads, as the Katingans, the Duhoi, and others, who make beautiful sunshades, which also serve in case of rain, and this was not learned from the Malays. In the Bornean tribes that I visited, until the child is old enough to walk, the sun is not allowed to shine upon it even for a moment. The blacks of Australia, on the other hand, who are in a state of absolute nudeness, pay no attention to the sun, though in common with most natives of hot countries they usually prefer to follow the example of the animals and remain quiet in the middle of the day.

An umbrella of the usual type, Chinese or j.a.panese, is very useful for travel in Borneo. At times it proves of excellent service in the prahu in case of sudden showers, and it is invaluable for protecting the camera when photographing. But as a matter of comfort and convenience it is my custom to have my head uncovered except in rainy or cold weather. The sun is a great friend and health-giver, and notwithstanding well-meant warnings and an inborn fear first to be overcome, during my journeys in Borneo I carried my hat in my pocket. When travelling in a prahu, I do not care for a prolonged exposure to the sun, but often I photographed for three or four hours continuously--really hard work--in the blazing light of the equatorial sun, without experiencing any disagreeable effect. In the spring of 1910 I travelled in this way for three months, mostly on horseback, through the Sonora Desert, and felt stronger for it. It is my opinion that overfatigue, excess in eating, or alcohol are the causes of sunstroke. I have met only one man who, like myself, discards cover for the head--Doctor N. Annandale, of the Indian Museum in Calcutta. Although in our present state of knowledge I agree with him that it is unwise to advise others to do likewise in the tropics, I emphatically recommend less fear of the sun in temperate regions, always on the supposition that one leads a healthy and sane life.

The Long-Glats came from Apo Kayan, and established themselves first on the River Glit, a tributary from the south to the River Ugga, which again is an affluent to the River Boh, the outlet from Apo Kayan to the Mahakam.

Since that time the people have called themselves Long-Glit, which is their correct name, but as they have already become known as Long-Glat, through the Dutch, I shall use that designation.

In the kapala's house I saw a superb plank, four metres long, raised lengthwise against the wall; one side of it was taken up with fine carvings on a large scale, representing three pairs of dogs. This I fortunately obtained. The kapala's father was an Oma-Suling, but his grandmother, a Long-Glat, had taught him some kremi or kesa, the Malay words for folklore (in Long-Glat, lawong), and I collected from him two rather interesting tales, which are included with other folklore stories at the end of this book. In one of them (No. 18) the airplane is foreshadowed, and by one that could fly for a month, at that. Needless to state, an airplane had never been heard of in those parts.

The people were inquisitive but more distant than the other tribes I had visited, a quality which is often a saving grace. They were very willing to be photographed, and among my subjects were three women of the n.o.bility, called rajas, who had many coins sewn on their skirts in a way that looked quite well. One wore a head ornament such as I had not seen before, an elaborate affair lying over the hair, which was worn loose and hanging down the back. One man trembled noticeably when before the camera, without spoiling the photograph, however, though it was a side-view.

Of the women who helped me with the interpretations of designs, one had a marked Mongolian fold of the eye, though her eyes could scarcely be said to be placed obliquely. As far as my observations go, the Mongolian fold is very slight with the natives of Borneo, or not present at all, and the obliquity of the eyes is seldom striking. The Long-Glats do not tatu much, many not at all, but generally they have on the left upper arm a picture of the nagah in its usual representation with the disproportionately large dog's mouth. Wild cattle are not eaten here. The great hornbill, as well as the red and white hawk, may be killed, but are not eaten.

Three times a day the women bring water and take baths, while the men bathe when fancy dictates. Penihing and Kayan women begin to husk rice about five o'clock in the morning, while it is still dark. That is pemali (forbidden) among the Long-Glats, but the women cook rice at that hour, and, after eating, most of the people depart to the ladangs, returning about four o'clock in the afternoon. The women who remain in the kampong place paddi on mats in the sun to dry, and at noon they husk rice. Early in the afternoon, and again about two hours after sunset, meals are served, consisting always of boiled rice and a simple stew of boiled vegetables of one or more kinds (called sayur, a Malay word), and sometimes pork.

In the evening the women may cut rattan into fine strips, or weave these into mats, while the men employ themselves in making a sheath for a parang, or an axe-handle, or carving a hilt for a sword, etc. They talk till late at night and sometimes sing. None of the Bahau people are able to make rattan mats of such exquisite finish as the Long-Glats. The beautiful dull-red colour employed is procured from a certain gra.s.s which is crushed and boiled, the rattan being kept in the infusion one day. The black colour is obtained by the same method from the leaves of a tree, and both colours are lasting.

In the belief of the Long-Glats, people should not laugh at animals, lest some misfortune result. For instance, when dogs fight among themselves or with cats, one should not indulge in mirth, else the thunder, which is an antoh, becomes angry and makes somebody ill. In this kampong was a young hornbill which was quite domesticated and frequently came to rest on the top of my tent. It often fought the hens and even the dogs, which was an amusing sight, but would carry disquieting significance to the Dayak who allowed himself to laugh. The lieutenant from Long Kai possessed a very tame wah-wah which had accompanied him on a visit here. The natives told me that a child had become ill because she could not help laughing at the ape when it ran after the lieutenant and climbed one of his legs.

According to the blian, the little girl was very warm and feverish, but he sang in the night, and next day she was well.

Considerable similarity is evident in customs, manners, and beliefs of the Long-Glats and the Oma-Sulings, though the limited time at my disposal did not permit me fully to investigate this subject. Bear-meat is not eaten by either, and rusa (deer) and kidyang are not killed, the latter especially being avoided. Sumpitans are bought, and blians' shields such as the Penihings have are not made. Both these tribes pray for many children, which to them means larger ladangs and much food. The wish of these peoples is to have ten children each. In view of the fact that in Long Pahangei the number of women was disproportionately small, the desire for large families seemed unlikely to be gratified. Many men, some of them old, were unmarried, but no women were single. Twins sometimes occur, but not triplets. The mother nourishes her offspring for about five years, the two youngest suckling at the same time. A raja may marry ten women, or more, and has a great marriage-feast of more than a week's duration.

Lidju, my Long-Glat a.s.sistant, said that his father had fifteen wives, his grandfather thirty, but it was no longer the fashion to have so many. The common man (orang kampong) is allowed only one wife. Divorces are easily obtained, and neither suicide nor abortion is known.

July is supposed to be the dry season, but rarely a day pa.s.sed without showers. One evening occurred the heaviest thunder-storm I experienced in Borneo. It came from the west and was accompanied by a great downpour, straining my tent to the utmost. The sergeant one day brought in a large lizard (_vara.n.u.s_) which he shot from the prahu just as it was about to enter the river. Its length was 2.30 metres; the circ.u.mference back of the fore legs 44 centimetres.

It was with regret that I said good-bye to the Bahau peoples. Had it been in my power, I should like to have spent years instead of months in this Mahakam region. The Dayaks here are friendly to strangers, and as the great rapids farther down the river form a natural barrier, they seldom receive visitors, therefore are little changed by outside influence. The Malays have never been able to extend their influence above the rapids, and whatever modification may be noticeable in the natives is chiefly due to their journeys to Long Iram in order to exchange the products of the utan for commodities of the outside world. The government has exerted itself to keep the Malays from coming, but no doubt in the end this will prove as unavailing as it did on the Upper Barito. A few of them now and then find their way across the range that forms a natural boundary toward the south, and although thus far Malay settlement up here is negligible, its ultimate ascendancy is probable, however long the time that may pa.s.s before it is accomplished.

CHAPTER XXVII

CONTINUING THE JOURNEY DOWN THE RIVER--GREAT KIHAMS--BATOKELAU--AT LONG IRAM--LAST STAGES OF OUR JOURNEY--ARRIVAL AT SAMARINDA--HINDU ANTIQUITIES--NATIVE'S SUPERIORITY TO CIVILISED MAN

Early in August, as soon as the river had receded sufficiently to be considered favourable for travel, we started in seven prahus with thirty-two men. After less than two hours' swift journey we encountered the advance-guard of the kihams, which, though of little account, obliged us to take ash.o.r.e almost all our goods, and we walked about fifteen minutes.

It seemed a very familiar proceeding. Early in the afternoon we arrived at the kubo, a desirable shelter that had been erected at the head of the first great kiham, but its limited accommodations were taxed to overflowing by our arrival. Already camped here were a few Buginese traders and a raja from the Merasi River, accompanied by two good-looking wives, who were all going to Long Iram and had been waiting two days for the river to fall. The raja, who presented me with some bananas, moved with his family a little farther down the river, and I put up my tent as usual.

Next morning the transportation of our goods on human backs was begun, and shortly after six o'clock I started with the men to walk to the foot of the rapids, which takes about three hours. On the way, I observed a large acc.u.mulation of vines and branches heaped round the base of a tall trunk which at first sight looked dead. The tree to all appearances had died, all the branches had fallen, and with them the vines, orchids, ferns, etc., that had lived on it, but after being rid of all this burden it came to life again, for at the top appeared small branches with large leaves. A singular impression was created by the big heap of vegetable matter, not unlike a burial-mound, from the midst of which emerged the tall, straight trunk with the fresh leaves at the top, telling the tale of a drama enacted in the plant world through which the tree had pa.s.sed triumphantly.

My camping-place was a small clearing on the high river-bank, where I remained two days while the goods were being transported. There had been little rain for a few days; indeed, it is possible the dry season had begun, and the weather was intensely hot, especially in the middle of the day. I catalogued a number of photographic plates, but the heat in my tent, notwithstanding the fly, made perspiration flow so freely that it was difficult to avoid damage. Moreover, I was greatly annoyed by the small yellow bees, which were very numerous. They clung to my face and hair in a maddening manner, refusing to be driven away. If caught with the fingers, they sting painfully.

The river fell more than one metre during the first night, and the Merasi raja's party pa.s.sed in their prahus at seven o'clock next morning. At twelve our seven prahus showed up, bringing some large packages that could easiest be spared in case anything happened. The following day the remainder of the baggage arrived, carried on the backs of the men, and I was glad to have all here safe and dry.

In a couple of hours we arrived in the kampong Batokelau (turtle), and below are other rapids which, though long, are less of an obstacle. A beautiful mountain ridge, about 1,200 metres high, through which the river takes its course, appears toward the southeast. The population includes fifty "doors" of Busangs, forty "doors" of Malays, and twenty of Long-Glats. Crocodiles are known to exist here, but do not pa.s.s the rapids above. The kapala owned a herd of forty water-buffaloes, which forage for themselves but are given salt when they come to the kampong. When driven to Long Iram, they fetch eighty florins each. The gables of the kapala's house were provided with the usual ornaments representing nagah, but without the dog's mouth. He would willingly have told me tales of folklore, but a.s.sured me he did not know any, and p.r.o.nounced Malay indistinctly, his mouth being constantly full of sirin (betel), so I found it useless to take down a vocabulary from him.

Continuing our journey, we successfully engineered a rapid where a Buginese trader two weeks previously had lost his life while trying to pa.s.s in a prahu which was upset. Afterward we had a swift and beautiful pa.s.sage in a canyon through the mountain ridge between almost perpendicular sides, where long rows of sago-palms were the main feature, small cascades on either side adding to the picturesqueness. At the foot of the rapids we made camp in order to enable me to visit a small salt-water acc.u.mulation in the jungle a couple of kilometres farther down the river. As we landed near the place, we saw over a hundred pigeons leaving. There were two kinds of these birds at the pool, most of them of a very common large variety, with white head and green wings, and all were shy; according to the opinion of the Dayaks, owing to the prevalence of rain.

Next morning we started shortly after six o'clock, and early in the afternoon reached the kampong Omamahak, which is inhabited by Busangs, with a sprinkling of Malays. Two hours later twenty-one prahus arrived from Apo Kayan with one hundred and seventy-nine Kenyahs on their way to Long Iram to carry provisions to the garrison. Soon afterward the captain of Long Iram overtook us here, returning from his tour of inspection above, so the place became very populous. The next night we stopped at Hoang Tshirao, inhabited by a tribe of the same name, also called Busang, apparently quite primitive people. The kampong was neat and clean; there were many new wooden kapatongs, as well as small wooden cages on poles, evidently serving for sacrificial offerings. The following day we arrived at Long Iram.

Of comparatively recent origin, the town lies on level land, and its inhabitants outside the garrison are Malays, Chinese, and Dayaks. The street is long, extremely well kept, and everything looks orderly and clean, while before the captain's house were many beautiful flowers. The pasang-grahan, which is in a very quiet locality, is attractive and has two rooms. One was occupied by an Austrian doctor in the Dutch military service, who was on his way to Long Naw.a.n.g, while I appropriated the other. He was enthusiastic over the superb muscles of the Kenyahs who had just arrived and were camping in a house built for such occasions on top of a small hill a short distance away. Cows, brown in colour, were grazing in a large field near by, and I enjoyed the unusual luxury of fresh milk--five small bottles a day. After I had bathed and put on clean garments, even though my linen-mesh underclothing was full of holes, I felt content in the peaceful atmosphere.

The doctor of Long Iram, who had been here one year, told me that no case of primary malaria had come to his notice. What the Malays call demum is not the genuine malaria, but probably due to the merotu, a troublesome little black fly. One of his predecessors had collected 1,000 mosquitoes, out of which number only 60 were anopheles. There was framboisia here, for which the natives use their own remedies. The temperature at the warmest time of the day is from 90 to 95 Fahrenheit; at night, 75 to 80. There is much humidity, but we agreed that the climate of Borneo, especially in the interior, is agreeable.

It was extraordinary how everything I had brought on this expedition was just finished. The day before I had had my last tin of provisions; the milk was gone except ten tins, which would carry me through to Samarinda, a four days' journey; the candles were all used; the supply of jam exhausted; tooth-brushes no longer serviceable; my clothes in rags.

Fortunately I had more stores in Bandjermasin. The rot-proof tents which I bought in England were to some extent a disappointment because they deteriorated even though not in actual use, or possibly because of that fact. On account of the delay caused by the war the bulk of my considerable tent outfit was not unpacked until two years after purchase.

It had been carefully kept, but was found to be more or less like paper, and only a small portion could be used. One tent served me throughout Bornean travels, but finally the quality of the fabric became impaired to a degree which necessitated constant patching; it was made to last only by the exercise of great care and with the aid of a fly, three of these having been used on this expedition. If a journey to a country climatically like Borneo is planned to last only a year, rot-proof tents may be recommended on account of their light weight and great convenience.

The enterprising Kenyahs offered to sell me the model of a raja's funeral-house which seven of them made while there. Most of the material evidently had been brought with them. It was an interesting sample of their handicraft. At the house of the first lieutenant I was shown several similar models, some with unusual painted designs, which were eloquent testimonials to the great artistic gifts of this tribe. I also bought a small earthen jar. One of the natives who was able to speak some Malay said that such ware is common in Apo Kayan and is used for cooking rice.

The poison for the dart of the blow-pipe is also boiled in earthenware vessels. The jars, which are sometimes twenty-five centimetres in diameter, are protected on journeys by being encased in rattan netting.

The Kenyahs are perhaps the most capable of all the natives of Borneo. Of the one hundred and seventy-nine visiting members of the tribe, only one was afflicted with the skin diseases so prevalent among many of the other Dayaks, and, according to Doctor J. M. Elshout, syphilis is not found among those of Apo Kayan.

The steamship connection with Samarinda is irregular, and as a small transport steamer was making ready to take away its usual cargo of rattan and rubber, I decided to avail myself of the opportunity. The commercial products are loaded in a fair-sized boat, which is made fast to the side of the steamer, and a similar one may be attached to the other side. Such boats, which are called tonkang, also take pa.s.sengers, mostly Malay and Chinese, but there are no cabins, and the travellers spread their mats on the limited deck according to mutual agreement.

A swarm of Kenyahs began at seven o'clock to convey our baggage, and the soldiers later reported that there was not even standing-room left. I climbed on board and found rattan piled high everywhere, covering even the steps that led up to the "pa.s.senger-deck," where I emerged crawling on all fours. A shelter of duck had been raised for me in one corner, the lieutenant and Mr. Loing placed their beds in the adjoining s.p.a.ce, while the soldiers camped next to them. All the natives, packed closely together, formed another row.

The most necessary of my belongings were stored inside the shelter, and there I pa.s.sed the four days quite comfortably. On account of many noises, including that made by the engine, reading was impossible, so I employed the time in mending two suits of my precious linen-mesh underwear which was rapidly going to shreds, without prospect of opportunity to replace them in the Far East. Morning and afternoon the Malays on deck held their Mohammedan services, apparently singing in Arabic, and during the night the sailors sang much. There were two rough bath-rooms, but I bathed only once, as I was afraid of losing my slippers or other articles that were liable to drop into the river through the intervals between the narrow boards of the floor.

We travelled steadily day and night, but stopped at many kampongs to take on more cargo, and an additional tonkang was attached, which relieved some of the congestion on ours. One afternoon the monotony was relieved by a fight in the kitchen of the little steamer, when a sudden thumping sound of nude feet against the floor was heard and boiled rice flew about. But it was very soon over, evidently only an outburst of dissatisfaction with the cook; somebody called for the Malay captain and we heard no more about it.

There was a Bombay Mohammedan merchant on board who had small stores of groceries and dry-goods on the Kutei River, as the Mahakam is called in its lower course. He also spoke of the hundreds of thousands of Hindus who live in South Africa. On the last day of our journey a remarkably tame young snake bird was brought on board, which one of the sailors bought.

According to reports, there are many of these birds on the river. He tied it to the stern railing until night, when he put it on top of the cargo, apprehending that it might try to dive if tempted by the constant sight of the water. When asleep it curled itself up in an extraordinary manner, the long neck at first glance giving it a serpent-like appearance. It cried for fish and showed absolutely no fear.

On August 22, 1916, we arrived at Samarinda. The custom-house authorities permitted me to put our numerous packages in the "bom." The lieutenant and Mr. Loing went to a new Chinese hotel, while I, in a prahu, paddled to the pasang-grahan, a s.p.a.cious building with several rooms. Our journey through Central Borneo had been successfully concluded, and during nine months we had covered by river 1,650 kilometres, 750 of these in native boats.

During my absence the great war had become more real to the Archipelago through the occasional appearance in Bornean waters of British and j.a.panese cruisers. I heard of a German who walked from Bandjermasin to Samarinda because he was afraid of being captured if he went by steamer.

The journey took him six weeks. It was my intention, while waiting here a few days for the steamer, to visit a locality farther down the river which is marked on the map as having Hindu antiquities. The kapala of the district, who had been there, was sent for, and as he said that he had neither seen nor heard of any such relics, which probably would have to be searched for, I relinquished the trip. Hindu remains, which locally were known to be present in a cave north of Samarinda, had been visited in 1915 by the former a.s.sistant resident, Mr. A.W. Spaan, whose report on the journey was placed at my disposal. The cave is in a mountain which bears the name Kong Beng, Mountain of Images, due probably to a local Dayak language. It lies in an uninhabited region four days' march west of Karangan, or nearly two days' east of the River Telen, the nearest Dayaks, who are said to be Bahau, living on the last-named river. During the time of Sultan Suleiman six or seven statues were taken from Kong Beng to Batavia and presented to the museum there.

The country traversed from the River Pantun, to follow Mr. Spaan's account, at first is somewhat hilly, changes gradually into undulating country, and finally into a plain in the middle of which, quite singularly, rises this lonely limestone mountain, full of holes and caves, about 1,000 metres long, 400 broad, and 100 high, with perpendicular walls. The caves are finely formed and have dome-shaped roofs, but few stalact.i.te formations appear. Thousands of bats live there and the ground is covered with a thick layer of guano. From the viewpoint of natural beauty these caves are far inferior to the well-known cave of Kimanis in the Birang (on the River Berau, below the Kayan) with its extraordinarily beautiful stalact.i.te formations. In one of the caves with a low roof were found eleven Hindu images; only the previous day the regent of Kutei had turned the soil over and recovered a couple more archaeological remains.

Ten of these relics are in has-relief and about a metre high. The eleventh, which is lower, represents the sacred ox and is sculptured in its entirety. One bas-relief from which the head had been broken struck the observer as being finely executed; he recognized four Buddhas, one Durga, and one Ganesha.

Another cave visited was noteworthy on account of a strong wind which continually issues from it and for which he was unable to account. The current is formed in the opening, and twenty-five metres back of it there is no movement of the atmosphere. The cave is low, but after ten minutes'

walk it becomes higher and has connection with the outside air. There it is very high, and the sun's rays falling in produced a magnificent effect, but no wind was noticeable there. Standing in front of this cave a strange impression was created by the sight of leaves, branches, and plants in violent movement, while outside there was absolutely no wind.

I should much have liked to visit Kong Beng, but circ.u.mstances prevented my doing so, though the a.s.sistant resident, Mr. G. Oostenbroek, courteously offered his small steamer to take me up along the coast. Some months later an American friend, Mr. A.M. Erskine, at my instigation made the journey, and according to him it would take a month to properly explore the locality. The man whom the Sultan of Kutei sent with him threw rice on the statues, and the accompanying Dayaks showed fear of them. By digging to a depth of about a metre and a half through the layer of guano, a pavement of hewn stone was found which rested on the floor of the cave.

That the trip proved interesting is evident from the following description submitted to me: