Folk-lore in Borneo
TextA tradition (I do not say "legend," for this implies writing) which all the Kayans seem to know and to take pleasure in relating, is connected with the origin of their rite of head-hunting, for, although every possible means is employed by the European rulers of the island to stop this custom, it is still, nevertheless the one ruling passion of the people. Nay, it is part of their Religion; no house is blest which is not sanctified by a row of human skulls, and no man can hope to attain to the happy region of Apo Leggan unless he, or some near relative of his, has added a head to the household collection. Let me correct, however, with regard to head-hunting, what is probably the prevalent idea that the heads are hung up in the houses bleeding and raw, just as they are severed from the body. This is quite wrong; whether or not they would tolerate in their homes such horrid objects I cannot say, but certain it is that the heads are first subjected to fire and smoke until the flesh has dropped away, and what is then hung up is merely a skull; unpleasant enough, but not so bad as is generally supposed.
The tradition is that the great chief Tokong, when out on a war expedition, was told by Kop, the frog, that he should always take, instead of only the hair, the whole head of his enemies; Tokong was angry, at first, at the frog, but his followers at length persuaded him to let them try the experiment on their next attack. After taking the whole heads, the war party retreated quickly to the river down which they had come, and came to the spot where they had left their boats and were surprised to find that everything was exactly as they had left it. When they embarked, lo, and behold! the current of the stream was, for their sakes, reversed and like a flash they were carried up-stream and reached their home in a miraculously short time. During the fifteen days that they had been absent the crop of rice had not only sprouted, but had grown, had ripened, and was almost ready to be harvested; the members of their family who had been sick when they left, were now all well, the lame could walk and the blind see. The wise men waggled their heads, and one and all declared (and who can blame them?) that ever after they would stick to the custom that Kop had taught them.
It is not unfair to infer from this tradition that they have a crude, germinal sense of the barbarity of their actions, in so far as they think it necessary to invent an excuse to palliate that savage love of trophy-hunting which seems inborn in mankind. The rite of head-hunting is by no means confined to Borneo; the Formosans, and also many of our new fellow-citizens, among the tribes of the Philippines, are enthusiastic head-hunters, and our own cherished Indians within our own borders have not yet given up their love for a scalp; it would be perilous to assert that it is not a United States custom.
The idea that the taking of a head is necessary in order to obtain entrance to the pleasant regions of the land of departed spirits, is a doctrine taught by the chiefs in order to make men brave in battle, and do all in their power to avoid the punishment which awaits the coward. The Kayan Hades is believed to be under ground, and like the Hades of the ancient Greeks there is a guide to the entrance who corresponds to a certain extent to Charon. But their river Styx is not a stream, but a deep and wide ditch, through which flow ooze and slime swarming with worms and maggots; the souls of the departed must cross over this ditch not by a ferry, but by means of a fallen tree-trunk, guarded by the great demon Maligang, who challenges all comers, and if they have no record of bravery, he shakes the tree-trunk until they fall into the ditch below and are eternally tortured by the devouring worm that dieth not. Over the land of spirits presides the great demon Laki Tenangan, who assigns the souls to their proper place, and sees that they get their deserts, whether good or bad.
In this shadowy world, Apo Leggan is one of the principal regions, and is the abode of the spirits of those who die from sickness or from old age. The souls in Apo Leggan have much the same lot as they had in this world; the poor remain poor, and the rich maintain their rich estate, and even the soul that has been harassed in life in the upper air must none the less expect to find misfortune and perplexity in the world to come. In the absence of any definite code of morals, this is, perhaps, the most suitable belief that a savage tribe could have; it stimulates them to a constant endeavor to better their condition in this life and make their mark in some way, so that the life to come, in which they have a firm belief, may not be a continuation of the hardships they have endured here. Their methods of gaining wealth may not conform to our ideas of propriety, but then all is fair in love and war, and as they have very little idea of love, their motto has to be "all is fair in war;" life in the jungle is little else than a ceaseless struggle for the survival of the fittest.
Long Julan, a second division, is where live the souls of those who have died a violent or sudden death, either on the battlefield, or in their own clearings by the accidental fall of a tree; and there also dwell the young mothers who have died in childbirth; they become the wives of young warriors who likewise have been cut off in the bloom of youth and are therefore proper mates for unfortunate little mothers. Such beliefs naturally tend to the taking of life; a young man, for instance, who loses his wife in childbirth wishes to meet her again in the next world, and his ambition to go on the warpath is doubly strong. Is he fortunate enough to take a head, he gains high rank among warriors; should he be killed, he has the comfortable assurance that he will again meet his wife in Long Julan. The souls in Long Julan have an easy time and are always fairly well off, whatever their circumstances were in this life.
Tan Tekkan, a third division, is the place to which Laki Tenangan consigns suicides; wretched and woe begone in appearance, their souls wander about in the jungle and in the clearings trying to pick up a living by eating what roots and fruits they can find. This joyless Hereafter is calculated to make those who contemplate suicide, rather perform some self-sacrificing act of bravery whereby they will not only benefit those whom they leave behind, but also gain for themselves a more pleasant position in the world to come; therefore suicide is not at all common.
Tenyu Lalu, a fourth region, is assigned to the spirits of still-born children. These little souls are said to be exceedingly brave and need no other weapon wherewith to defend themselves than a stick of wood; they have never felt pain nor experienced danger in this world, and are therefore totally ignorant of such emotions. Whether or not they increase in size in Tenyu Lalu is not known, but it is generally supposed that they live together in a little world of their own.
Finally, Ling Yang is the abode of those who have died by drowning; it lies below the beds of rivers, and here the spirits soon become exceedingly rich. All the goods lost in rivers by the capsizing of boats in the rapids, or when they run foul of a snag in deep water, go into the coffers of the dwellers in Ling Yang.
Such are the main divisions of the Dali Matei, or country of the dead; there are, however, many sacred hills, rivers, and lakes wherein dwell certain powerful demons who govern the spirits. In this nether world, some say that there are trees and plants and animals much the same as in this; this point, however, seemed open to considerable doubt in the minds of some whom I questioned, while others had so definite an idea of it that they drew maps to show the positions of the different regions. They seemed to regard it as a large river, along whose tributaries dwelt the various classes of departed spirits. The Dayongs, or medicine men, are the only ones who are supposed really to know; these all maintain that, while acquiring their power over sickness, they had visited the land of spirits. In the mythology of all countries there is sure to be a hero who has made the descent to Hades and returned to tell the tale, and the Kayans are no exceptions; they have their Orpheus, only his name is Gamong.
Gamong, during an attack of fever, realized that he was at the point of death, but was loath to resign his spirit, so he called his friends around him and begged them to dress him up, after death, in all his war-clothes, and not to bury him for three days, but to place him in a sitting posture with his sword and spear in his hands. He comforted them by saying that he had an inner assurance that he had a terrible encounter before him, but that he would actually return to this world in about three days. Shortly after this, his breath ceased and his friends performed all the rites of burial, just as he had requested. For three days his body remained rigid; at the end of that time, he came back to life and told his open-eyed friends his adventures as follows: "When my spirit left you, I went directly down the path which leads to the great tree-trunk, Bintang Sikopa, where Maligang stands; according to his wont, he hailed me and told me to halt, which I would not do. Then Maligang, whose arm is enormous, many times bigger than his body, began to shake the tree, calling out 'who are you?' I replied 'I am Gamong, a brave warrior, and you must not shake the tree while I cross.' Maligang then said, consulting the pegs with which he records the deeds of men, 'What proof have I that you have been brave?' At this I was furious, I drew my parang, uplifted my spear and ran amok, rushing into Maligang's house, smashing everything and overturning the great jars of rice-toddy, of which there is an abundance, but whereof no one ever drinks. Maligang was frightened and bolted from the house, shouting as he fled, 'I have not got you now, but in seven years' time you must return.' Finding that Maligang had fled, and that there were other obstacles to prevent me from going on, I returned to this world and its trials." The story goes that Gamong lived seven years after this, and then succumbed body and soul to the great Maligang; and as there is no record of his bravery, he was probably shaken off of the tree-trunk and disappeared in the deep pit seething with maggots.