Seventeen Years Among the Sea Dyaks of Borneo A Record of Intimate Association with the Natives of the Bornean Jungles

CHAPTER XIV

Chapter 393,378 wordsPublic domain

NATIVE REMEDIES AND DYAK CHARMS

Native remedies—Cupping—Charms—A Dyak medicine-chest—Smallpox and cholera—My experience at Temudok.

As has already been shown in the preceding chapter, the Dyak looks to the _manang_, or witch-doctor, to help him in all cases of illness. All sickness is caused by some evil spirit, and the _manang_ alone has power over these unseen enemies, and he uses incantations to appease or frighten these demons away.

But though in all cases of serious illness the _manang_ is called in, yet the treatment of every disease is not left in his hands. Dyaks use some things as outward applications, and certain herbal remedies are given internally in the case of illness. I have seen Dyaks boil some bitter bark in water and drink this liquid when they have fever. Certain oils are also used as liniments. The betel-nut and pepper-leaf (_sireh_) mixture is used as an outward application for many complaints. Some man—generally one who is successful in what he undertakes—is asked to chew some of this hot mixture in his mouth. Having done this, he leans over and squirts the red saliva over the affected part, and rubs it in with his fingers. Dyaks with a headache will be seen with their foreheads smeared over with it. Newly-born babes have their stomachs and chests covered with daily applications of the same thing by their mothers.

Ground ginger is also used as a poultice, especially in the case of women who have given birth to a child; and the water in which pieces of ginger have been boiled is drunk by people suffering from ague, as well as by lying-in women.

The Dyaks are very fond of blood-letting whenever there is pain in any part of the body or limb, and they have a method of “cupping” which is rather ingenious. The part from which the blood is to be drawn has incisions made in it with a small knife. The “cupping-glass” is a young wet bamboo which has a knot at one end, but is open at the other. This is heated at the fire, and then placed firmly over the incisions made in the flesh. Cold water is then poured on the bamboo, and it draws out the blood. The heat fills the bamboo with steam from its dampness. The cold water condenses this steam, and makes the bamboo an excellent “cupping-glass.”

As the Dyak believes that all sickness is caused by the spirits, it is not surprising that his faith in medicines is small, and that he knows of few remedies, and depends for his cures either on the mysterious ceremonies of the witch-doctors or on charms which have been made known by the spirits to the fortunate owners by means of dreams. These charms are generally pebbles, roots, leaves, feathers, or bits of wood. The pebbles and roots are rubbed on the body, or else put in water and the water applied. The leaves, bits of wood, feathers, etc., are burnt, and the ashes rubbed on the affected part.

Though the _manang_ depends upon his power over spirits to cure diseases, still he calls to his aid his numerous charms, which he claims to have received from the spirits. These valued treasures are carried in his _lupong_, or medicine-chest.

The following excellent description of “The Contents of a Dyak Medicine-chest,” by Bishop Hose, under whom I worked for many years as a missionary to the Dyaks, is reproduced here by his kind permission. The place and the people mentioned in it are all well known to me, as the village of Kundong is in the Saribas District, which was in my charge for many years:—

“A few days ago I was in the upper part of the Saribas River, the home of the race once celebrated throughout Malaya for daring deeds of piracy. My companion was the Rev. William Howell, the joint author with Mr. D. J. S. Bailey of “A Dictionary of the Sea Dyak Language,” and an authority on all subjects connected with the religious and other customs of that people. We had ascended the Padih, an affluent of the main river, to the village of Kundong, where we were going to spend the night in the Dyak house of which Brok is the _tuai_, or headman. The house is of moderate length—about twenty doors—and as usual the apartments of the _tuai_ are near the middle of the building. There we were hospitably installed on the _ruai_, or undivided hall (sometimes described as a veranda), which extends throughout the whole length of a Sea Dyak house and occupies about half of its area. The good mats were brought down from the _sadau_, or loft, and spread for us—the rare luxury of a chair was provided for me—and there we talked, and taught, and answered questions, and dispensed medicines, while the inhabitants of the other rooms gathered round us, as well as the occupants of our host’s private quarters. There also we ate, and there we slept when the kindly people would at last consent to our going to bed.

“The majority of the ‘rooms’—_i.e._, separate tenements—in this house are inhabited by Christians of long standing, but there are a few who have not yet come in. Amongst them is a _manang_, or doctor of magic, named Dasu, who has a large practice in the neighbourhood. I was anxious to interview him in order to get some information that I wanted for the purpose of comparing the original spiritual beliefs of the Borneans with those that underlie the Mohammedanism of the Malays of the Peninsula. I was also desirous of ascertaining how far the methods of the Dyak _manang_, when undertaking to cure diseases, resembled those of the _pawang_ and _bomor_, his Malay confrères.

“At our invitation Dr. Dasu came out of his room readily enough, and sat down with us to chat and smoke a cigarette. He talked freely and intelligently about such matters of general interest as happened to be broached, especially the late expedition against the turbulent people of the Ulu Ai, and the terrible epidemic of cholera which was just passing away. But as soon as we began to give the conversation a professional turn, and speak of the practice of medicine by the native doctors of the Saribas, he put on a look of impenetrable reserve, and could hardly be persuaded to speak at all. There is reason to believe that this was chiefly owing to the presence of Mr. Howell. He has succeeded in winning the confidence and affectionate regard of Dyaks to an unusual degree, but he is unpopular among the _manangs_. His teaching has led people to think for themselves, and wherever he goes the business and the gains of the village doctor show a tendency to decrease. Moreover, several of the fraternity have submitted to his influence, abandoned their tricks, and taken to honest farming. It is known, too, that some of these have surrendered their whole stock of charms to my friend, and have also made dangerous revelations, whereby the profession has been much discredited.

“So Dr. Dasu was only with great difficulty induced to impart to us his knowledge. He told me, after more confidential relations had grown up between us, that he suspected me of an intention, by some means or other, to get possession of his precious _materia medica_, and so deprive him of his means of living. However, his fears were removed by repeated assurances that it was information only that I wanted, and that I was consulting him just because I preferred to get it direct from a professor of repute rather than trust to reports received from white men. At length we persuaded him to be gently catechized. I got some precise answers to my questions respecting certain articles of Dyak belief which had been variously defined by different investigators, and about which my ideas had been a good deal confused. But those matters are not the subject of this note. It is the concluding incident of the rather prolonged interview that I propose to describe.

“We had talked to one another so pleasantly and frankly that I thought I might ask Dasu as a great favour to show me his _lupong_, or medicine-chest, and the charms of power which it contained. It was quite evident that this aroused his suspicions again, and he retired within himself as before. But the principal people of the house, who were sitting by us, urged him to consent, and, as old acquaintances of mine, assured him of my good faith. So he was at last persuaded, and went to his own room to fetch the treasure.

“As I have said, the good mats of the household, as is usual when it is intended to show respect to a visitor, had been taken down for our accommodation from the place where they are stored. But we now saw that the most valued of them all had been held in reserve. This, which was made of fine and very flexible _rotan_, the latest triumph of the skill and industry of our courteous hostess, Ipah, Brok’s wife, was now handed down and spread in front of us for the reception of the great man and the mysterious implements of his profession. After some considerable delay, probably intended to excite our curiosity the more, he appeared, and sat down on the mat prepared for him, a subdued murmur of applause and satisfaction greeting him as he took his seat.

“A _manang’s lupong_, or case for holding his charms, may be almost anything. Sometimes it is a box, sometimes a basket, sometimes a bag. In this instance it was an open-mouthed basket made of thin shavings of bamboo hung round the neck of the owner by a strip of bark.

“Before beginning the exhibition, Dasu made a little formal speech, in which, with much show of humility, he spoke in depreciation of his own powers and knowledge and of his collection of remedial charms, as compared with those of other members of the profession elsewhere. These remarks were of course received with complimentary expressions of dissent from the audience; and then at last the contents of the basket were displayed before us. They were tied up together in a cloth bag, the most highly-prized being further enclosed in special receptacles of their own, such as a second cloth covering, a little bamboo box with a lid, or a match-box. They were ceremoniously brought out, and placed side by side on the mat of honour. I was then invited to handle and examine them, and the name and use of each were told me without any fresh indication of unwillingness. This is a list of them:

“1. _Batu bintang_, or star-stone. A small, transparent stone rounded by the action of water till it was almost spherical, with a rather rough surface. The _manang_ looked upon it as his badge of authority, and told the following story of the way he became possessed of it. Many years ago, in the interval between harvest and the next seed-time, he was working as a cooly in Upper Sarawak. There he had a dream in which he was visited by the being whom he looked upon as his guardian spirit. As in all cases when this spirit has had any communication to make to him, it appeared in the form of a tortoise. It told him that he must forthwith put himself under instruction in order to be qualified for the office of a _manang_; and that if he neglected this command all the spirits would be angry, and death or madness would be the penalty. When he awoke he found the _batu bintang_ by his side, and had no doubt it was the gift of the spirit. Accordingly, he did as he was bidden without loss of time. He acquired the professional knowledge and the stock-in-trade which were necessary, and was at last duly initiated with all the proper rites and ceremonies.

“2. _Batu krat ikan sembilan_, or the petrified section of the Sembilan fish. This was a curious object which I could not quite make out. It was oblong in shape, about two inches long, one inch broad, and half an inch thick in the middle, but getting suddenly thinner towards the two edges till it became not more than one-sixteenth of an inch. The thick part was hollow, having a large, oval-shaped perforation going through it. It resembled a section from the middle of a large winged seed, but heavy for its size, and feeling like a stone. I could not of course test this by cutting or scraping. When used it is soaked for a time in water; the water is then given to the sick man to drink, or is rubbed gently upon the part of his body which is affected.

“3. _Batu lintar_, or thunderbolt. A small, dark-coloured stone, about an inch and a half long and a quarter of an inch thick at the base, tapering to a sixteenth of an inch at the point, curved, and rather like a very small rhinoceros horn, and highly polished. It was probably the same kind of stone as that of which the stone implements found in the Malay Peninsula are made, which is also called _batu lintar_. It is pressed firmly against the body wherever pain is felt.

“4. _Batu nitar_, another name for thunderbolt. A minute, four-sided crystal, half an inch long and about two lines thick. A charm to be used only in extreme cases. It is dipped in water and then shaken over the patient. If he starts when the drops of water fall upon his body he will recover, otherwise he will die.

“5. _Batu krang jiranau_, or petrified root-stock of _jiranau_ (a zingiberad?). They told us this is the Dyak name of a kind of wild ginger. The word is curiously near to _jerangau_, or _jeringu_, which Ridley says is _Acorus calamus_, ‘a plant much used by native medicine-men’ (Wilkinson, ‘Malay-English Dictionary’). The thing so called was possibly part of the backbone of some animal, bent double and the two ends tied together, each vertebra brown and shining after long use. A charm for dysentery and indigestion, and also for consumption. It is dipped in oil and rubbed on the patient’s body in a downward direction.

“6. _Batu ilau_, or sparkling stone, also called _batu kras_, or the hard stone. A six-sided crystal, two inches long and three-quarters of an inch thick. One end appeared to have been formerly stuck into some sort of handle, as it was covered with _malau_, or lac. This is the indispensable sight-stone to be looked into for a view of that which is future, or distant, or otherwise invisible to the ordinary eyes. It is specially used by _manangs_ for discovering where the soul of the sick man, wandering away from the body, is concealing itself, or for detecting the particular demon who is causing the illness.

“There were also, jumbled up together at the bottom of the bag, a number of tusks of wild boar, pebbles, and other rubbish, but these were pronounced to be _utai ngapa_—things of no importance. One article that we hoped to find was absent. Dasu said he should be glad indeed to have it, but it had never come in his way. It is the _batu burung endan_, or pelican stone. He explained to us that this is a stone which has the magical power of securing the presence and co-operation of a spirit who dwells in the form of the _endan_ (_Pelicanus malaccensis_). When the _manang_ is seeking to enter _Sabayan_, the spirit-world, in search of the errant soul of a sick man, this demon can insure to him a swift and unimpeded passage thither and back again.

“While Dasu was telling us the story of his vision of the tortoise spirit who gave him the _batu bintang_, I watched his face carefully for any sign that he believed or did not believe his account. I could not be sure, but I am inclined to think he did not. He seemed relieved when we had finished our examination of his possessions, and he could pack them all up and carry them off to the security of his own dwelling.

“Several similar collections of charms have at different times been given to me, obtained from _manangs_ who have become Christians, but it was particularly interesting to me to have a set actually in use exhibited and explained by their owner.”

The Dyak medicine-man, either by means of medicines, or by the use of charms, or by his incantations, is supposed to be able to cure all diseases. But, as I have said, the two terrible epidemics of cholera and smallpox are beyond his powers. No witch-doctor will approach any case of these, however well he may be paid.

So great is the fear of the Dyaks for either of these diseases that, when a man falls ill of cholera, all his friends desert the house in which he is, and he is left to manage for himself. In the case of smallpox those who have already had the disease may stop and nurse their friends, but the others all leave the house and build for themselves shelters in the jungle. Very often people die of smallpox or cholera simply because they are too ill to cook food, and have no one to attend to their wants.

When there is smallpox or cholera in the country, the Dyaks plant by the path leading to the house a post with a cross-bar attached to it. This is to show others that they may not come up to the house. To disregard such a signpost is punishable according to Dyak law.

When I was stationed at Temudok, very early one morning, I heard someone calling out from the landing-stage by the river-bank. I got out of bed, and went to the veranda and shouted out to the man that he was to come to the house if he had anything to say to me. He came half-way up the hill, and then said that he was afraid to come any nearer. There were two men dead of smallpox in his boat, and many others ill. Some of the Dyaks in the boat were Christians whom I knew, some were not. We had a conversation as to what it was best to do under the circumstances. The first thing was to bury the two dead bodies. I had many planks, as the carpenters were still at work at the Mission House, and two coffins were soon made, the dead bodies placed in them and buried.

But what was to be done with those in the boat who were ill? I could not have them at the Mission House, because the schoolboys lived there, and also one room was used for services which the Christian Dyaks in Temudok attended. I remembered there was a small Dyak house a little way up-river which had been deserted not long before, and I told the Dyaks to take the sick to that house, and I promised to supply them with food and anything else they might require. Three of the crew were well, but there were eight who had smallpox.

I sent a message up-river to the friends and relatives of these men, and asked them to come themselves or send others to nurse them. I was very much disappointed to find that only two women came in reply to my request. The Dyaks are so afraid of smallpox that even those who had already had smallpox, and need not have feared infection, were not allowed by those who lived with them to nurse a suffering relative.

I shall never forget the first time I went to see these smallpox patients. They lay in a row in the open veranda of the Dyak house—a miserable sight. Plates of rice had been placed by them which they were not able to eat. I had the place swept and cleaned, and the food taken away. I took them some condensed milk and sugar, as well as other food.

Two of their number died; the others recovered. Before they returned to their homes they came to me. I had them disinfected, burnt up their clothes and mats, etc., and gave them each a piece of cloth for clothing. I am glad to say they did not take the infection to their houses.