CHAPTER XXI

DYAK FOLKLORE

Sea Dyak stories—_Ensera_—_Kana_—The mouse-deer and the tortoise—Klieng—Kumang—Apai Saloi—The cunning of the mouse-deer—The mouse-deer and other animals who went out fishing—The mouse-deer, the deer, and the pig—Sea Dyak proverbs.

The Sea Dyaks possess many stories, legends, and fables handed down by tradition from ancient times. All these have been transmitted by word of mouth from generation to generation, as the Dyaks have no written language of their own. These tales may be roughly divided in two classes—those that are plainly told, and called _ensera_; and those that are set in a peculiar rhythmical measure, and sung to a monotonous chant, and called _kana_.

Among the former are a large number of stories corresponding to the adventures of Brer Rabbit, or our own tales illustrating the cunning of the fox. In the Dyak stories the mouse-deer and the tortoise—two of the smallest animals they know—are generally represented either acting in concert or individually, and their cunning is always more than a match against the strength of all other animals. The Dyaks also have many legends which give an account of the origin and reason for some of their religious beliefs and customs. These are no doubt purely Dyak, but the many tales related nowadays about Rajahs and their adventures are probably derived from Malay sources in more recent times.

The exploits of the mythical heroes of the Dyaks are also related. The greatest hero is Klieng, who is not a god, but supposed to belong to this world of ours. He is not now visible to human eyes, but his help is often invoked in times of war, and offerings of food are often made to him. Tradition says that he had no father or mother, but was found in the knot of a tree by Ngelai, who brought him up as his brother. As he grew up, he developed a restless spirit, and would not apply himself to the regular Dyak pursuits. He was wayward and capricious, and would disappear for long periods, often being given up for dead by his sorrowing friends. Then he would suddenly reappear in his own home, to the surprise and joy of his friends. He is represented as handsome and brave, and always successful in expeditions against his enemies. He had a wonderful power of metamorphosis, and, when necessary, could transform himself into an animal or anything else. On one occasion he is said to have changed himself into the fragment of a broken water-gourd, and was carried by Ngelai in his basket to the battle. The enemy were too powerful for them, and Ngelai and his friends were being defeated, when the basket was placed on the ground, and Klieng revealed himself in his true character of a great warrior, and in a very short time routed the enemy.

Klieng married Kumang, the Dyak Venus. Many stories concerning them are set to native song. These _kana_ are sometimes sung by some Dyak singer, who lies on a mat or sits on a swing in the dim light of the covered veranda of the long Dyak house. His audience sit or lie around and listen to him, very often till the small hours of the morning. The incidents in a story thus sung are not many, but the Dyaks delight in verbosity and amplification, and use a dozen similes where one would do, and love to repeat over and over again the description of the various characters in different words, with the double object of showing their command of language and to lengthen the story.

They have many amusing tales told of Apai Saloi (the father of Saloi)—the Simple Simon of the Dyaks. He is represented as doing the most foolish things, and always outwitted by his enemy, Apai Samumang (the father of Samumang), who does not hesitate to take advantage of his stupidity. The following will give an idea of the kind of story related of Apai Saloi:—One day he was paddling in his boat in the river, and his axe-head fell into the water. He made a notch in the side of the boat to mark the spot where the axe-head dropped into the water, and paddled home. “There will be plenty of time,” he said, “for me to look for it to-morrow morning.” He reached the landing-stage of his house, and pulled his boat up the bank. The next day he went to the boat and looked for his lost axe-head underneath the part of the boat where he saw the notch he had made the day before. He was very much surprised at not finding his lost axe-head!

But what seems to give the Dyaks most pleasure are tales about animals, especially those in which the cunning of the mouse-deer (_akal plandok_) is displayed. The following are well known among them, and I have myself often heard these related, with variations, by the Dyaks themselves. Very often, in travelling by boat in Borneo, one has to wait for the turn of the tide, and the Dyak boatmen on these occasions often relate some of their old stories to each other to while away the time.

THE STORY OF THE MOUSE-DEER AND OTHER ANIMALS WHO WENT OUT FISHING.

Once upon a time the Mouse-Deer, accompanied by many other animals, went on a fishing expedition. All day long they fished, and in the evening returned to the little hut that they had put up by the river-side, salted the fish that they had caught, and stored it up in their jars. They noticed that somehow or other their fish disappeared day by day, and the animals held a council to decide what it was best to do. After some discussion the Deer said he would stay behind while the others went out to fish, so that he might catch the thief.

“I shall be able to master him, whoever he is,” said the Deer. “If he refuses to do what I wish, I shall soon punish him with my sharp horns.”

So the others went out fishing, leaving the Deer at home. Soon he heard the tramp of someone coming to the foot of the steps leading up into the hut, calling out:

“Is anyone at home?”

“I am here,” said the Deer. Looking out, he saw a great Giant, and his heart failed him. He wished he had asked one of his companions to stay at home with him.

“I smell some fish,” said the Giant. “I want some, and I must have it. I am hungry. Let me have what I want.”

“It does not belong to me,” said the Deer in great fear. “It belongs to the Pig, the Bear, the Tiger, and the Mouse-Deer. They would punish me severely if I gave any of it to you.”

“Don’t talk to me in that way. If you do not let me have what I want, I will eat you up,” said the Giant.

The Deer was too much awed by his visitor to attack the Giant, so he let him eat the fish and take some away with him.

When his companions returned, the Deer gave them his account of the Giant’s visit. They blamed him for his cowardice, and the Wild Boar said he would keep watch the next day.

“If the Giant comes,” said he, “I will gore him with my tusks and trample him underfoot.”

But he fared no better than the Deer, for when he saw the Giant, who threatened to kill him if he refused to give him some fish, he was afraid, and let him take as much as he wanted.

Great was the disgust of the others to find on their return that their fish had again been stolen.

“Let me watch,” said the Bear. “No Giant shall frighten me. I will hug him in my arms and scratch him with my sharp claws.”

So Bruin was left in charge the next day, while the others went out to fish.

Soon he heard the Giant, who came to the foot of the steps and shouted: “Hullo! who’s there?”

“I am,” said the Bear. “Who are you, and what do you want?”

“I can smell some nice fish, and I am hungry, and want some.”

“I cannot let you have any,” said the Bear. “It does not belong to me.”

“Let me have some at once,” said the Giant in a voice of thunder, “before I kill and eat you.”

The Bear was too much frightened to interfere while the Giant ransacked the jars. When he had had enough, he bade the Bear “Good-bye” and went off.

On the return of the other animals, the Tiger said he would put a stop to this state of things. He would stay at home the next day and keep watch. It would have to be a very strong Giant indeed that would dare to fight him.

The Giant paid his visit as before, and when he found the Tiger at home, he said that he was hungry, and asked for some fish. At first the Tiger refused to give any to him, but when he saw his formidable enemy he was afraid, and let him have as much as he wanted.

On their return again the animals found their fish had been stolen.

Then the Mouse-Deer spoke. “I see,” he said, “that it is no use depending on you others. You boast, but when the time comes for action, you have no courage. I will stay at home and secure this Giant that you speak of.”

When his companions had gone away the next morning, the Mouse-Deer put a bandage round his forehead and lay down.

Soon came the Giant, and shouted: “Who’s there?”

“Only me,” said the Mouse-Deer, groaning with pain. “Come up, whoever you may be.”

The Giant climbed up the rickety steps, and saw the Mouse-Deer lying with his head bandaged.

“What is the matter with you?” asked the Giant.

“I have a headache,” was the answer.

“Whatever has given you the headache?” asked the Giant.

“Can’t you guess?” said the Mouse-Deer. “It is the smell of this fish in these jars. It is so strong it is enough to make anyone ill. Don’t you feel ill yourself?”

“I think I do,” said the Giant. “Cannot you give me some medicine?”

“I have no medicine with me,” said the Mouse-Deer, “but I can bandage you, as I have done myself, and it is sure to do you good.”

“Thank you,” said the Giant. “It is good of you to take the trouble to cure me.”

So the Giant lay down as he was bid, while the Mouse-Deer bandaged his head, and fastened the ends of the bandage to pegs which he drove in the ground under the open flooring of the hut.

“Don’t you feel a little pain in your ankles?” anxiously suggested the Mouse-Deer.

“I think I do,” said the foolish Giant. “Suppose you bandage them, too.”

So the Mouse-Deer, chuckling to himself, bandaged his ankles, and made them fast to the floor of the hut.

“Do you not feel the pain in your legs?” asked the Mouse-Deer.

“I think I do,” was the foolish Giant’s reply.

So the Mouse-Deer bandaged his legs and made them secure, so that the Giant was quite unable to move.

By this time the Giant began to feel uneasy, and trying to get up, and finding himself securely bound, he struggled and roared in pain and anger.

The little Mouse-Deer sat before him and laughed, and said:

“You were a match for the Deer, the Pig, the Bear, and the Tiger, but you are defeated by me. Don’t make so much noise, or I shall drive a peg through your temples and kill you.”

Just then the others returned from their fishing. Great was their joy to find their enemy securely bound. With cries of triumph they fell upon the Giant and killed him, and praised the Mouse-Deer for his cleverness in securing him.

THE STORY OF THE MOUSE-DEER, THE DEER AND THE PIG.

A Mouse-Deer wandering in the jungle fell into a pit. He could not get out, so he waited patiently for some passer-by. Presently a Pig passed by the mouth of the pit. The Mouse-Deer called out to him, and he looked in and asked the Mouse-Deer what he was doing there.

“Don’t you know what is going to happen? The sky is going to fall down, and everybody will be crushed to dust unless he takes shelter in a pit. If you want to save your life you had better jump in.”

The Pig jumped into the pit, and the Mouse-Deer got on his back, but he found he was not high enough to enable him to leap out.

Next a Deer came along, and, seeing the two animals in the pit, asked them what they were doing there.

The Mouse-Deer replied: “The sky is going to fall, and everyone will be crushed unless he hides in some hole. Jump in if you want to save your life.”

The Deer sprang in, and the Mouse-Deer made him stand on the back of the Pig; then he himself got on the back of the Deer and jumped out of the pit, leaving the other two to their fate.

The Deer and the Pig were very angry at being tricked in this way by such a small animal as the Mouse-Deer. They scratched the side of the pit until it sloped, and enabled them to get out; then they followed the trail of the Mouse-Deer, and soon overtook him.

The Mouse-Deer saw them coming, and climbed up a tree, from the boughs of which a large beehive was hanging.

“Come down,” said the Pig and Deer angrily. “You have deceived us, and we mean to kill you.”

“Deceived you?” said the Mouse-Deer. “When did I deceive you, or do anything to deserve death?”

“Didn’t you tell us that the sky was going to fall, and that if we did not hide ourselves in a pit we should be killed?”

“Oh yes,” was the reply. “What I said was perfectly true, only I persuaded the King to postpone the disaster.”

“You need not try to put us off with any more lies. You must come down, for we mean to have your blood.”

“I cannot,” said the Mouse-Deer, “because the King has asked me to watch his gong,” pointing to the bee’s-nest.

“Is that the King’s gong?” said the Deer. “I should like to strike it to hear what it sounds like.”

“So you may,” said the Mouse-Deer, “only let me get down and go to some distance before you do so, as the noise would deafen me.”

So the Mouse-Deer sprang down and ran away. The Deer took a long stick and struck the bee’s-nest, and the bees flew out angrily and stung him to death.

The Pig, seeing what had happened, pursued the Mouse-Deer, determined to avenge the death of his friend. He found his enemy taking refuge on a tree round the trunk of which was a large python curled.

“Come down,” said the Pig, “and I will kill you.”

“I cannot come down to-day. I am set here to watch the King’s girdle. Look at it,” he said, pointing to the Python. “Is it not pretty? I have never seen such a handsome waist-belt before.”

“It is beautiful,” said the Pig. “How I should like to wear it for one day!”

“So you may,” said the Mouse-Deer, “but be careful, and do not spoil it.”

So the foolish Pig entangled himself in the folds of the Python, who soon crushed him to death and ate him for his dinner, and the clever Mouse-Deer escaped, having outwitted his enemies.

SEA DYAK PROVERBS.

King Solomon, we are told, “spake three thousand proverbs,” and many of these, as well as proverbs of an older date, have been handed down to us in a more or less authentic form. A translation of them into English is to be found in a well-known book. King Solomon was perhaps the first to make a collection of proverbs, but long before his time proverbs were in common use. It would seem that in every age and in every clime the existence of language is accompanied by the existence of proverbs.

The Sea Dyaks have their proverbs, and these remind us of the lines:—

“Turn, turn thy wheel! The human race, Of every tongue, of every place, Caucasian, Coptic, or Malay, All that inhabit this great earth, Whatever be their rank or worth, Are kindred and allied by birth, And made of the same clay.”

It is impossible to imagine two nationalities so far removed from each other in every respect as the English and the Dyak, and yet, when we come to consider their proverbs, we find that they join hands and stand on common ground. Allowing for difference in environment, and consequent difference of similes, the ideas expressed in many Dyak proverbs is precisely similar to that of some well known among the English.

The three following examples, taken from among many others, which are often used by the Dyaks of the present day, will illustrate what I mean:—

_Remaung di rumah, rawong di tanah_ (“A tiger in the house, [but] a frog in the field”). A lion in council, but a lamb in action.

_Kasih ka imbok, enda kasih ka manok_ (“To show kindness to the wild pigeon, [but] not to show kindness to the domestic fowl”). Charity begins at home.

_Lari ka ribut nemu ujan, lari ka sungkup nemu pendam_ (“Running from the hurricane, he encounters the rain; running from a tombstone, he finds himself in a graveyard”). Out of the frying-pan into the fire.

Necessarily, a great deal in human life changes as the years roll on. Science grows, knowledge increases, society makes its way to new forms of organization, and the outward fashions of life pass away, and new ones take their place. All this is obvious and inevitable. And so there must of necessity be many points of difference between primitive races and races high up in the scale of civilization. Yet in human life there are certain things which are always the same. Underneath what is variable in man there is that which never changes. Now and again we catch glimpses of this as we read some ancient author, and find that across the gap of ages lived one who, thousands of years ago, in some respects, at least, thought as we think and felt as we feel. The radical fundamental thoughts and passions of mankind all over the world, in every age, are much the same; and so, after consideration, it ought not to be a matter of surprise to find that some of the Sea Dyak proverbs convey precisely the same ideas as the proverbs of the English.