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. [221] 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." [222] Tales are told, too, of other fabulous birds [223]--the jintayu, which is never seen, though its note is heard, and which announces the approach of rain; [224] 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. [225] "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, [226] 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. [227] "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. [228] 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. [229] "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.' "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. [230] "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. [231] "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 Katapang [232] 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." [233] 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. [234] A still more curious deviation occurs in another version, [235] 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. [236] 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!'" [237] The following account of the bird-lore of the Malay Peninsula was compiled by me from notes supplied to the Selangor Journal [238] by the late Sir William Maxwell:-- The Night-jar (Burong cheroh [239]) 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. [240]] 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. [241] 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, [242]) 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. [243] 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. [244] 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." [245] The following notes on birds are taken from a reprint [246] 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 crow [247] 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-eagle [248] 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. [249] The Argus-pheasant [250] and the Crow [251] 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. [252] 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. 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." [253] 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 Sibor [254] 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 bundle [255] 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 Kapor [256] (pigeon), Distraught be ye, O Puding[3] (pigeon), Distraught be ye, O Sarap[3] (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 mengkudu [257] 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." [258] 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). [259] 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)." [260] 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." [261] 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." (b) Earth