Seventeen Years Among the Sea Dyaks of Borneo. Edwin Herbert Gomes
who, she thought, must be one of the inmates of the house. Then she solemnly cursed the thief. She began in a calm voice, but worked herself up into a frenzy. We all listened horror-struck, and no one interrupted her. She began by saying what had happened, and how these thefts had gone on for some time. She had said nothing before, hoping that the thief would mend his ways; but the matter had gone on long enough, and she was going to curse the thief, as nothing, she felt sure, would make him give up his evil ways. She called on all the spirits of the waters and the hills and the air to listen to her words and to aid her. She began quietly, but became more excited as she went on. She said something of this kind:—
“If the thief be a man, may he be unfortunate in all he undertakes! May he suffer from a disease that does not kill him, but makes him helpless—always in pain—and a burden to others. May his wife be unfaithful to him, and his children become as lazy and dishonest as he is himself. If he go out on the war-path, may he be killed, and his head smoked over the enemy’s fire. If he be boating, may his boat be swamped and may he be drowned. If he be out fishing, may an alligator kill him suddenly, and may his relatives never find his body. If he be cutting down a tree in the jungle, may the tree fall on him and crush him to death. May the gods curse his farm so that he may have no crops, and have nothing to eat, and when he begs for food, may he be refused, and die of starvation.
“If the thief be a woman, may she be childless, or if she happen to be with child let her be disappointed, and let her child be still-born, or, better still, let her die in childbirth. May her husband be untrue to her, and despise her and ill-treat her. May her children all desert her if she live to grow old. May she suffer from such diseases as are peculiar to women, and may her eyesight grow dim as the years go on, and may there be no one to help her or lead her about when she is blind.”
I have only given the substance of what she said; but I shall never forget the silence and the awed faces of those who heard her. I left the house early next morning, so I do not know what was the result of her curse—whether the thief confessed or not.
The children are just as honest as their elders. A missionary used to visit certain stations once a quarter. At one of the stations he had a small native hut built for his accommodation. On one occasion some small Dyak boys came to him with three cents (less than one penny in value), which they said they wished to return to him. They had picked them up under the floor of his hut. They thought they had fallen through the open floor, and belonged to the missionary, and, as a matter of course, they wished to return the money to the owner. I have never had occasion to punish any of the schoolboys living in my house for theft. They had access to everything there was, but, though they had no scruples about asking for things, they never stole anything.
The Dyaks are also very truthful. So disgraceful indeed do the Dyaks consider the deceiving of others by an untruth that such conduct is handed down to posterity by a curious custom. They heap up a pile of the branches of trees in memory of the man who has uttered a great lie, so that future generations may know of his wickedness and take warning from it. The persons deceived start the tugong bula—“the liar’s mound”—by heaping up a large number of branches in some conspicuous spot by the side of the path from one village to another. Every passer-by contributes to it, and at the same time curses the man in memory of whom it is. The Dyaks consider the adding to any tugong bula they may pass a sacred duty, the omission of which will meet with supernatural punishment, and so, however pressed for time a Dyak may be, he stops to throw on the pile some branches or twigs.
A few branches, a few dry twigs and leaves—that is what the tugong bula is at first. But day by day it increases in size. Every passer-by adds something to it, and in a few years’ time it becomes an imposing memorial of one who was a liar. Once started, there seems to be no means of destroying a tugong bula. There used to be one by the side of the path between Seratok and Sebetan. As the branches and twigs that composed it often came over the path, on a hot day in the dry weather I have more than once applied a match to it and burnt it down. In a very short time a new heap of branches and twigs was piled on the ashes of the old tugong bula.
It has often been remarked by Dyaks that any other punishment would, if a man had his choice, be much preferred to having a tugong bula put up in his memory. Other punishments are soon forgotten, but this remains as a testimony to a man’s untruthfulness for succeeding generations to witness, and is a standing disgrace to his children’s children. Believing, as the Dyaks do, in the efficacy of curses, it is easy to understand how a Dyak would dread the accumulation of curses which would necessarily accompany the formation of a tugong bula.
The Dyaks are very hospitable. They are always ready to receive and entertain strangers. A man travelling on foot through the Dyak country need never trouble about food. He would be fed at the Dyak houses he passed on his journey, as part of their crops is reserved to feed visitors. When the family meal is ready, visitors are invited to partake of it. If many visitors come to a house at the same time, some have their meal with one family and some with another.
The morals of the Dyak from an Eastern point of view are good. There is no law to punish immorality between unmarried people. The parents do not seem to be strict, and it is considered no disgrace for a girl to be on terms of intimacy with the youths of her fancy until she has made her final choice. It is supposed that every young Dyak woman will eventually marry, so her duty is plainly to choose a husband in her youth from among the many men she knows. And yet, for all this, I should say that promiscuous immorality is unknown. It is true that very often a girl is with child before her marriage, but from the Dyak point of view this is no disgrace if the father acknowledges the child and marries the woman. The greatest desire of the Dyak is to become a parent, to be known as father or mother of So-and-so. They drop their own names after the birth of a child. A young couple in love have no opportunities of private meetings excepting at night, and the only place is the loft where the young lady sleeps. The suitor pays his visit, therefore, when the rest of the family are asleep, and she gets up from her bed and receives him. Two or three hours may be spent in her company before he leaves her, or if he should be one whom she is not willing to accept as a husband, she soon gives him his dismissal. If acceptable, the young man may be admitted to such close intimacy as though they were already married. The reason is to ascertain the certainty of progeny. On his departure he leaves with the young lady some ornament or article of his attire, as a pledge of his sincerity and good faith. On the first signs of pregnancy the marriage ceremony takes place, and they are man and wife.
Divorce is very uncommon after the birth of a child, but where there are no children, for such reasons as incompatibility of temper or idleness, divorce is obtainable by either husband or wife by paying a small fine. The women as a rule are faithful to their husbands, especially when they have children, and adultery is very uncommon when there is a family.
The Dyak law respecting adultery is peculiar and worthy of notice. If a woman commit adultery with a married man, his wife may make a complaint to the headman of the house, and receive a fine from the guilty woman; or, if she prefer it, she may waylay the guilty woman and thrash her; but if she do so, she must forgo one-half of the fine otherwise due to her. In the eyes of the Dyak the woman is alone to blame in a case like this. “She knew,” they say, “the man has a wife of his own; she had no business to entice him away from her.” If a married man commits adultery with an unmarried woman the procedure is similar. The wife of the man may punish the girl, but no one punishes the man. The whole blame, according to Dyak ideas, falls on the woman for tempting the man.
If a married man commits adultery with a married woman, the husband of the woman is allowed to strike him with a club or otherwise maltreat him, while the wife of the adulterer has the right to treat the adulteress in the same way. The innocent husband supposes the one most to be blamed is not his wife, but her tempter, and vice versâ. This striking must not, however, take place in a house; it must be done in the open. The club used must not be of hard wood. Very often this striking is merely a means of publishing the fact that adultery has been committed, and no one is much hurt, but I have known cases where the man has been very badly wounded. No striking can take place after the matter has been talked about or confessed, and if one knew for certain of a case of adultery, one could easily stop this maltreatment of each other by talking about it publicly. The case is then