Malay Magic
by Walter William Skeat · English · Gutenberg #47873 · 1,390,439 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: Malay Magic
Author: Walter William Skeat
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MALAY MAGIC ***
MALAY MAGIC
BEING
AN INTRODUCTION TO THE FOLKLORE AND
POPULAR RELIGION OF THE
MALAY PENINSULA
BY
WALTER WILLIAM SKEAT
OF THE CIVIL SERVICE OF
THE FEDERATED MALAY STATES
WITH A PREFACE
BY
CHARLES OTTO BLAGDEN
MEMBER OF THE ROYAL ASIATIC SOCIETY,
AND FORMERLY OF THE STRAITS
SETTLEMENTS CIVIL SERVICE
London
MACMILLAN AND CO., Limited
NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
1900
All rights reserved
TO
SIR CECIL CLEMENTI SMITH
KNIGHT GRAND CROSS
OF THE MOST DISTINGUISHED ORDER
OF ST. MICHAEL AND ST. GEORGE
AND FORMERLY
GOVERNOR OF THE STRAITS SETTLEMENTS
THIS BOOK IS (BY PERMISSION) DEDICATED
"The cry of hosts [we] humour
Ah! slowly, toward the light."
Rudyard Kipling.
PREFACE
The circumstances attending the composition and publication of the
present work have thrown upon me the duty of furnishing it with a
preface explaining its object and scope.
Briefly, the purpose of the author has been to collect into a
Book of Malay Folklore all that seemed to him most typical of the
subject amongst a considerable mass of materials, some of which lay
scattered in the pages of various other works, others in unpublished
native manuscripts, and much in notes made by him personally of what
he had observed during several years spent in the Malay Peninsula,
principally in the State of Selangor. The book does not profess to be
an exhaustive or complete treatise, but rather, as its title indicates,
an introduction to the study of Folklore, Popular Religion, and Magic
as understood among the Malays of the Peninsula.
It should be superfluous, at this time of day, to defend such
studies as these from the criticisms which have from time to time been
brought against them. I remember my old friend and former teacher, Wan
`Abdullah, a Singapore Malay of Trengganu extraction and Arab descent,
a devout and learned Muhammadan and a most charming man, objecting to
them on the grounds, first, that they were useless, and, secondly,
which, as he emphatically declared, was far worse, that they were
perilous to the soul's health. This last is a point of view which it
would hardly be appropriate or profitable to discuss here, but a few
words may as well be devoted to the other objection. It is based,
sometimes, on the ground that these studies deal not with "facts,"
but with mere nonsensical fancies and beliefs. Now, for facts we all,
of course, have the greatest respect; but the objection appears to me
to involve an unwarrantable restriction of the meaning of the word:
a belief which is actually held, even a mere fancy that is entertained
in the mind, has a real existence, and is a fact just as much as any
other. As a piece of psychology it must always have a certain interest,
and it may on occasions become of enormous practical importance. If,
for instance, in 1857 certain persons, whose concern it was, had paid
more attention to facts of this kind, possibly the Indian Mutiny could
have been prevented, and probably it might have been foreseen, so that
precautionary measures could have been taken in time to minimise the
extent of the catastrophe. It is not suggested that the matters dealt
with in this book are ever likely to involve such serious issues;
but, speaking generally, there can be no doubt that an understanding
of the ideas and modes of thought of an alien people in a relatively
low stage of civilisation facilitates very considerably the task of
governing them; and in the Malay Peninsula that task has now devolved
mainly upon Englishmen. Moreover, every notion of utility implies
an end to which it is to be referred, and there are other ends in
life worth considering as well as those to which the "practical man"
is pleased to restrict himself. When one passes from the practical to
the speculative point of view, it is almost impossible to predict what
piece of knowledge will be fruitful of results, and what will not;
prima facie, therefore, all knowledge has a claim to be considered
of importance from a scientific point of view, and until everything
is known, nothing can safely be rejected as worthless.
Another and more serious objection, aimed rather at the method of
such investigations as these, is that the evidence with which they
have to be content is worth little or nothing. Objectors attempt to
discredit it by implying that at best it is only what A. says that
B. told him about the beliefs B. says he holds, in other words, that
it is the merest hearsay; and it is also sometimes suggested that
when A. is a European and B. a savage, or at most a semi-civilised
person of another breed, the chances are that B. will lie about his
alleged beliefs, or that A. will unconsciously read his own ideas into
B.'s confused statements, or that, at any rate, one way or another,
they are sure to misunderstand each other, and accordingly the record
cannot be a faithful one.
So far as this objection can have any application to the present work,
it may fairly be replied: first that the author has been at some pains
to corroborate and illustrate his own accounts by the independent
observations of others (and this must be his justification for the
copiousness of his quotations from other writers); and, secondly,
that he has, whenever possible, given us what is really the best
kind of evidence for his own statements by recording the charms
and other magic formulæ which are actually in use. Of these a great
number has been here collected, and in the translation of such of the
more interesting ones as are quoted in the text of the book, every
effort has been made to keep to literal accuracy of rendering. The
originals will be found in the Appendix, and it must be left to those
who can read Malay to check the author's versions, and to draw from
the untranslated portions such inferences as may seem to them good.
The author himself has no preconceived thesis to maintain: his object
has been collection rather than comparison, and quite apart from the
necessary limitations of space and time, his method has confined the
book within fairly well-defined bounds. Though the subject is one
which would naturally lend itself to a comparative treatment, and
though the comparison of Malay folklore with that of other nations
(more particularly of India, Arabia, and the mainland of Indo-China)
would no doubt lead to very interesting results, the scope of the work
has as far as possible been restricted to the folklore of the Malays
of the Peninsula. Accordingly the analogous and often quite similar
customs and ideas of the Malayan races of the Eastern Archipelago
have been only occasionally referred to, while those of the Chinese
and other non-Malayan inhabitants of the Peninsula have been excluded
altogether.
Moreover, several important departments of custom and social life
have been, no doubt designedly, omitted: thus, to mention only one
subject out of several that will probably occur to the reader,
the modes of organisation of the Family and the Clan (which in
certain Malay communities present archaic features of no common
interest), together with the derivative notions affecting the tenure
and inheritance of property, have found no place in this work. The
field, in fact, is very wide and cannot all be worked at once. The
folklore of uncivilised races may fairly enough be said to embrace
every phase of nature and every department of life: it may be regarded
as containing, in the germ and as yet undifferentiated, the notions
from which Religion, Law, Medicine, Philosophy, Natural Science,
and Social Customs are eventually evolved. Its bulk and relative
importance seem to vary inversely with the advance of a race in
the progress towards civilisation; and the ideas of savages on
these matters appear to constitute in some cases a great and complex
system, of which comparatively few traces only are left among the more
civilised peoples. The Malay race, while far removed from the savage
condition, has not as yet reached a very high stage of civilisation,
and still retains relatively large remnants of this primitive order of
ideas. It is true that Malay notions on these subjects are undergoing a
process of disintegration, the rapidity of which has been considerably
increased by contact with European civilisation, but, such as they
are, these ideas still form a great factor in the life of the mass
of the people.
It may, however, be desirable to point out that the complexity of
Malay folklore is to be attributed in part to its singularly mixed
character. The development of the race from savagery and barbarism up
to its present condition of comparative civilisation has been modified
and determined, first and most deeply by Indian, and during the last
five centuries or so by Arabian influences. Just as in the language of
the Malays it is possible by analysis to pick out words of Sanskrit and
Arabic origin from amongst the main body of genuinely native words,
so in their folklore one finds Hindu, Buddhist, and Muhammadan ideas
overlying a mass of apparently original Malay notions.
These various elements of their folklore are, however, now so
thoroughly mixed up together that it is often almost impossible to
disentangle them. No systematic attempt has been made to do so in this
book, although here and there an indication of the origin of some
particular myth will be found; but a complete analysis (if possible
at all) would have necessitated, as a preliminary investigation,
a much deeper study of Hindu and Muhammadan mythology than it has
been found practicable to engage in.
In order, however, to give a clear notion of the relation which the
beliefs and practices that are here recorded bear to the official
religion of the people, it is necessary to state that the Malays of
the Peninsula are Sunni Muhammadans of the school of Shafi'i, and that
nothing, theoretically speaking, could be more correct and orthodox
(from the point of view of Islam) than the belief which they profess.
But the beliefs which they actually hold are another matter altogether,
and it must be admitted that the Muhammadan veneer which covers their
ancient superstitions is very often of the thinnest description. The
inconsistency in which this involves them is not, however, as a rule
realised by themselves. Beginning their invocations with the orthodox
preface: "In the name of God, the merciful, the compassionate," and
ending them with an appeal to the Creed: "There is no god but God, and
Muhammad is the Apostle of God," they are conscious of no impropriety
in addressing the intervening matter to a string of Hindu Divinities,
Demons, Ghosts, and Nature Spirits, with a few Angels and Prophets
thrown in, as the occasion may seem to require. Still, the more
highly educated Malays, especially those who live in the towns and
come into direct contact with Arab teachers of religion, are disposed
to object strongly to these "relics of paganism"; and there can be
no doubt that the increasing diffusion of general education in the
Peninsula is contributing to the growth of a stricter conception of
Islam, which will involve the gradual suppression of such of these
old-world superstitions as are obviously of an "unorthodox" character.
This process, however, will take several generations to accomplish,
and in the meantime it is to be hoped that a complete record will have
been made both of what is doomed sooner or later to perish, and of
what in all likelihood will survive under the new conditions of our
time. It is as a contribution to such a record, and as a collection
of materials to serve as a sound basis for further additions and
comparisons, that this work is offered to the reader.
A list of the principal authorities referred to will be found
in another place, but it would be improper to omit here the
acknowledgments which are due to the various authors of whose work in
this field such wide use has been made. Among the dead special mention
must be made of Marsden, who will always be for Englishmen the pioneer
of Malay studies; Leyden, the gifted translator of the Sejarah Malayu,
whose early death probably inflicted on Oriental scholarship the
greatest loss it has ever had to suffer; Newbold, the author of what
is still, on the whole, the best work on the Malay Peninsula; and Sir
William Maxwell, in whom those of us who knew him have lost a friend,
and Malay scholarship a thoroughly sound and most brilliant exponent.
Among the living, the acknowledgments of the author are due principally
to Sir Frank Swettenham and Mr. Hugh Clifford, who, while they have
done much to popularise the knowledge of things Malay amongst the
general reading public, have also embodied in their works the results
of much careful and accurate observation. The free use which has been
made of the writings of these and other authors will, it is hoped,
be held to be justified by their intrinsic value.
It must be added that the author, having to leave England about
the beginning of this year with the Cambridge scientific expedition
which is now exploring the Northern States of the Peninsula, left the
work with me for revision. The first five Chapters and Chapter VI.,
up to the end of the section on Dances, Sports, and Games, were then
already in the printer's hands, but only the first 100 pages or so
had had the benefit of the author's revision. For the arrangement
of the rest of Chapter VI., and for some small portion of the matter
therein contained, I am responsible, and it has also been my duty to
revise the whole book finally. Accordingly, it is only fair to the
author to point out that he is to be credited with the matter and the
general scheme of the work, while the responsibility for defects in
detail must fall upon myself.
As regards the spelling of Malay words, it must be said that
geographical names have been spelled in the way which is now usually
adopted and without diacritical marks: the names of the principal
Native States of the Peninsula (most of which are repeatedly mentioned
in the book) are Kedah, Perak, Selangor, Johor, Pahang, Trengganu,
Kelantan, and Patani. Otherwise, except in quotations (where the
spelling of the original is preserved), an attempt has been made to
transliterate the Malay words found in the body of the book in such
a way as to give the ordinary reader a fairly correct idea of their
pronunciation. The Appendix, which appeals only to persons who already
know Malay, has been somewhat differently treated, diacritical marks
being inserted only in cases where there was a possible ambiguity, and
the spelling of the original MSS. being changed as little as possible.
A perfect transliteration, or one that will suit everybody, is,
however, an unattainable ideal, and the most that can be done in that
direction is necessarily a compromise. In the system adopted in the
body of the work, the vowels are to be sounded (roughly speaking)
as in Italian, except e (which resembles the French e in que, le,
and the like), and the consonants as in English (but ng as in singer,
not finger; g as in go; ny as ni in onion; ch as in church; final k
and initial h almost inaudible). The symbol ` represents the Arabic
`ain, and the symbol ' is used (1) between consonants, to indicate
the presence of an almost inaudible vowel, the shortest form of
e, and elsewhere (2) for the hamzah, and (3) for the apostrophe,
i.e. to denote the suppression of a letter or syllable. Both the
`ain and the hamzah may be neglected in pronunciation, as indeed they
are very generally disregarded by the Malays themselves. In this and
other respects, Arabic scholars into whose hands this book may fall
must not be surprised to find that Arabic words and phrases suffer
some corruptions in a Malay context. These have not, as a rule, been
interfered with or corrected, although it has not been thought worth
while to preserve obvious blunders of spelling in well-known Arabic
formulæ. It should be added that in Malay the accent or stress,
which is less marked than in English, falls almost invariably on
the penultimate syllable of the word. Exceptions to this rule hardly
ever occur except in the few cases where the penultimate is an open
syllable with a short vowel, as indicated by the sign [breve].
The illustrations are reproduced from photographs of models and
original objects made by Malays; most of these models and other
objects are now in the Cambridge Archæological and Ethnological Museum,
to which they were presented by the author.
The Index, for the compilation of which I am indebted to my wife, who
has also given me much assistance in the revision of the proof-sheets,
will, it is believed, add greatly to the usefulness of the work as
a book of reference.
C. O. BLAGDEN.
Woking, 28th August 1899.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
Nature, pp. 1-15 PAGE
(a) Creation of the World 1
(b) Natural Phenomena 5
CHAPTER II
Man and His Place in the Universe, pp. 16-55
(a) Creation of Man 16
(b) Sanctity of the Body 23
(c) The Soul 47
(d) Animal, Vegetable, and Mineral Souls 52
CHAPTER III
Relations with the Supernatural World, pp. 56-82
(a) The Magician 56
(b) High Places 61
(c) Nature of Rites 71
CHAPTER IV
The Malay Pantheon, pp. 83-106
(a) Gods 83
(b) Spirits, Demons, and Ghosts 93
CHAPTER V
Magic Rites connected with the Several Departments of Nature,
pp. 107-319
(a) Air--
1. Wind and Weather Charms 107
2. Birds and Bird Charms 109
(b) Earth--
1. Building Ceremonies and Charms 141
2. Beasts and Beast Charms 149
3. Vegetation Charms 193
4. Minerals and Mining Charms 250
(c) Water--
1. Purification by Water 277
2. The Sea, Rivers, and Streams 279
3. Reptiles and Reptile Charms 282
4. Fishing Ceremonies 306
(d) Fire--
1. Production of Fire 317
2. Fire Charms 318
CHAPTER VI
Magic Rites as affecting the Life of Man, pp. 320-580
1. Birth-Spirits 320
2. Birth Ceremonies 332
3. Adolescence 352
4. Personal Ceremonies and Charms 361
5. Betrothal 364
6. Marriage 368
7. Funerals 397
8. Medicine 408
9. Dances, Sports, and Games 457
10. Theatrical Exhibitions 503
11. War and Weapons 522
12. Divination and the Black Art 532
Appendix 581
Note on the word Kramat 673
List of Chief Authorities quoted 675
Index 677
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Fig. PAGE
1. Sacrificing at the Fishing Stakes 311
2. Invoking the Tiger Spirit 438
3. Stand used at Invocation of Spirits 447
4. Main Galah Panjang 500
5. Tapers used in exorcising Evil Spirits 511
6. Taper and Ring used in same Ceremony 512
7. Heptacle on which the Seven-Square is based 558
PLATES
Plate
1. Selangor Regalia 40
2. Spirits 94
3. The Spectre Huntsman 116
4. Pigeon Decoy Hut 133
5. Rice-Soul Baskets 244
6. Bajang and Pelesit Charms 321
7. Penanggalan and Langsuir 326
8. Betrothal Gifts 365
9. Betrothal Gifts 366
10. Curtain Fringe 372
11. Fig. 1.--Bridal Bouquets 375
Fig. 2.--The Henna Cake, etc. 375
12. Fig. 1.--Bridegroom's Headdress 378
Fig. 2.--Pillow-ends 378
13. Wedding Procession 381
14. Poko' Sirih 382
15. Wedding Centrepiece with Dragons, etc. 388
16. Bomor at Work 410
17. Anchak 414
18. Gambor 464
19. Pedikir 466
20. Fig. 1.--Musical Instruments 508
Fig. 2.--Demon Mask 508
21. Masks of Clowns and Demon 513
22. Kuda Sembrani 514
23. Fig. 1.--Hanuman 516
Fig. 2.--Pauh Janggi and Crab 516
24. Fig. 1.--Weather Chart 544
Fig. 2.--Diagram 544
25. Diagrams 555
26. Diagrams 558
27. Diagrams 561
28. Fig. 1.--Wax Figures 570
Fig. 2.--Spirit Umbrellas and Tapers 570
CHAPTER I
NATURE
(a) Creation of the World
The theory of the Creation most usually held by Peninsular Malays is
summarised in the following passage, quoted (in 1839) by Lieutenant
Newbold from a Malay folk-tale:--
"From the Supreme Being first emanated light towards chaos; this
light, diffusing itself, became the vast ocean. From the bosom of
the waters thick vapour and foam ascended. The earth and sea were
then formed, each of seven tiers. The earth rested on the surface
of the water from east to west. God, in order to render steadfast
the foundations of the world, which vibrated tremulously with the
motion of the watery expanse, girt it round with an adamantine chain,
viz. the stupendous mountains of Caucasus, the wondrous regions of
genii and aerial spirits. Beyond these limits is spread out a vast
plain, the sand and earth of which are of gold and musk, the stones
rubies and emeralds, the vegetation of odoriferous flowers.
"From the range of Caucasus all the mountains of the earth have
their origin as pillars to support and strengthen the terrestrial
framework." [1]
The Mountains of Caucasus are usually called by Malays Bukit Kof
(i.e. Kaf), or the Mountains of Kaf (which latter is their Arabic
name). These mountains are not unfrequently referred to in Malay
charms, e.g. in invocations addressed to the Rice-Spirit. The
Mountains of Kaf are to the Malays a great range which serves as a
"wall" (dinding) to the earth, and keeps off both excessive winds and
beasts of prey. This wall, however, is being bored through by people
called Yajuj and Majuj (Gog and Magog), and when they succeed in their
task the end of all things will come. Besides these mountains which
surround the earth there is a great central mountain called Mahameru
(Saguntang Maha Biru, or merely Saguntang-guntang). [2] In many Malay
stories this hill Mahameru is identified with Saguntang-guntang on
the borders of Palembang in Sumatra.
The account which I shall now give, however, differs considerably
from the preceding. It was taken down by me from an introduction to a
Malay charm-book belonging to a magician (one `Abdul Razzak of Klang
in Selangor), with whom I was acquainted, but who, though he allowed me
to copy it, would not allow me either to buy or borrow the book: [3]--
"In the days when Haze bore Darkness, and Darkness Haze, when the
Lord of the Outer Silence Himself was yet in the womb of Creation,
before the existence of the names of Earth and Heaven, of God and
Muhammad, of the Empyrean and Crystalline spheres, or of Space and
Void, the Creator of the entire Universe pre-existed by Himself,
and He was the Eldest Magician. He created the Earth of the width
of a tray and the Heavens of the width of an umbrella, which are
the universe of the Magician. Now from before the beginning of time
existed that Magician--that is, God--and He made Himself manifest
with the brightness of the moon and the sun, which is the token of
the True Magician."
The account proceeds to describe how God "created the pillar of the
Ka`bah, [4] which is the Navel of the Earth, whose growth is comparable
to a Tree, ... whose branches are four in number, and are called, the
first, 'Sajeratul Mentahar,' and the second 'Taubi,' and the third,
'Khaldi,' and the fourth 'Nasrun `Alam,' which extend unto the north,
south, east, and west, where they are called the Four Corners of
the World."
Next we read that the word of God Almighty came in secret to Gabriel,
saying, "Take me down the iron staff of the 'Creed' which dangles at
the gate of heaven, and kill me this serpent Sakatimuna." [5] Gabriel
did so, and the serpent brake asunder, the head and forepart shooting
up above the heavens, and the tail part penetrating downwards beneath
the earth. [6] The rest of the account is taken up with a description,
that need not here be repeated, of the transformation of all the
various parts of the serpent's anatomy, which are represented as
turning with a few exceptions into good and evil genii.
The most curious feature of the description is perhaps the marked
anthropomorphic character of this serpent, which shows it to be a
serpent in little more than name. It seems, in fact, very probable
that we have here a reminiscence of the Indian "Naga." [7] Thus we
find the rainbow (here divided into its component parts) described
as originating from the serpent's sword with its hilt and cross-piece
(guard), grass from the hair of its body, trees from the hair of its
head, rain from its tears, and dew from its sweat.
Another account, also obtained from a local magician, contains one
or two additional details about the tree. "Kun," said God, "Payah
[8] kun" said Muhammad, and a seed was created.
"The seed became a root (lit. sinew), the root a tree, and the tree
brought forth leaves.
"'Kun,' said God, 'Payah kun,' said Muhammad; ... Then were Heaven
and Earth (created), 'Earth of the width of a tray, Heaven of the
width of an umbrella.'"
This is a curious passage, and one not over-easy to explain; such
evidence as may be drawn from analogy suggests, however, that the
"Earth of the width of a tray, and Heaven of the width of an umbrella,"
may be intended to represent respectively the "souls" (semangat) of
heaven and earth, in which case they would bear the same relation to
the material heaven and earth as the man-shaped human soul does to
the body of a man.
(b) Natural Phenomena
"Most Malays," says Newbold, "with whom I have conversed on the
subject, imagine that the world is of an oval shape, revolving upon
its own axis four times in the space of one year; that the sun is
a circular body of fire moving round the earth, and producing the
alternations of night and day."
To this I would add that some Malays, at least, whom I questioned
on the subject (as well as some Sakais [9] under Malay influence),
imagined the firmament to consist of a sort of stone or rock which they
called Batu hampar, or "Bed rock," the appearance of stars being caused
(as they supposed) by the light which streams through its perforations.
A further development of the Malay theory of the earth declares it
to be carried by a colossal buffalo upon the tip of its horns. [10]
When one horn begins to tire the buffalo tosses it up and catches it
upon the tip of the other, thus causing periodical earthquakes. This
world-buffalo, it should be added, stands upon an island in the midst
of the nether ocean. [11] The universe is girt round by an immense
serpent or dragon (Ular Naga), which "feeds upon its own tail."
The Malay theory of the tides is concisely stated by Newbold: [12]--
"Some Malays ascribe the tides to the influence of the sun; others
to some unknown current of the ocean; but the generality believe
confidently the following, which is a mere skeleton of the original
legend. In the middle of the great ocean grows an immense tree,
called Pauh Jangi, [13] at the root of which is a cavern called
Pusat Tassek, or navel of the lake. This is inhabited by a vast crab,
who goes forth at stated periods during the day. When the creature
returns to its abode the displaced water causes the flow of the tide;
when he departs, the water rushing into the cavern causes the ebb."
Mr. Clifford gives a slightly different explanation:--
"The Pusat tasek, or Navel of the Seas, supposed to be a huge hole in
the ocean bottom. In this hole there sits a gigantic crab which twice
a day gets out in order to search for food. While he is sitting in
the hole the waters of the ocean are unable to pour down into the
under world, the whole of the aperture being filled and blocked by
the crab's bulk. The inflowing of the rivers into the sea during
these periods are supposed to cause the rising of the tide, while
the downpouring of the waters through the great hole when the crab
is absent searching for food is supposed to cause the ebb."
Concerning the wonderful legendary tree (the Pauh Janggi) the following
story was related to me by a Selangor Malay:--
"There was once a Selangor man named Haji Batu, or the Petrified
Pilgrim, who got this name from the fact that the first joints of all
the fingers of one hand had been turned into stone. This happened in
the following manner. In the old days when men went voyaging in sailing
vessels, he determined to visit Mecca, and accordingly set sail. After
sailing for about two months they drifted out of their course for some
ten or fifteen days, and then came to a part of the sea where there
were floating trunks of trees, together with rice-straw (batang padi)
and all manner of flotsam. Yet again they drifted for seven days,
and upon the seventh night Haji Batu dreamed a dream. In this dream
one who wore the pilgrim's garb appeared to him, and warned him to
carry on his person a hammer and seven nails, and when he came to
a tree which would be the Pauh Janggi he was to drive the first of
the nails into its stem and cling thereto. Next day the ship reached
the great whirlpool which is called the Navel of the Seas, [14] and
while the ship was being sucked into the eddy close to the tree and
engulfed, Haji Batu managed to drive the first nail home, and clung
to it as the ship went down. After a brief interval he endeavoured to
drive in the second nail, somewhat higher up the stem than the first
(why Haji Batu could not climb without the aid of nails history does
not relate), and drawing himself up by it, drove in the third. Thus
progressing, by the time he had driven in all the seven nails he had
reached the top of the tree, when he discovered among the branches
a nest of young rocs. Here he rested, and having again been advised
in a dream, he waited. On the following day, when the parent roc had
returned and was engaged in feeding its young with an elephant which
it had brought for the purpose, he bound himself to its feathers with
his girdle, and was carried in this manner many hundreds of miles
to the westward, where, upon the roc's nearing the ground, he let
himself go, and thus dropping to the earth, fell into a swoon. On
recovering consciousness he walked on till he came to a house, where
he asked for and obtained some refreshment. On his departure he was
advised to go westward, and so proceeded for a long distance until he
arrived at a beautifully clear pool in an open plain, around which
were to be seen many stone figures of human beings. The appearance
of these stone figures rendering him suspicious, he refrained from
drinking the water, and dipped into it merely the tips of his fingers,
which became immediately petrified. Proceeding he met a vast number of
wild animals--pigs, deer, and elephants--which were fleeing from the
pursuit of a beast of no great size indeed, but with fiery red fur. He
therefore prudently climbed into a tree to allow it to pass. The
beast, however, pursued him and commenced to climb the tree, but as
it climbed he drove the point of his poniard (badik) into its skull,
and killed it. He then robbed it of its whiskers, and thereafter, on
his reaching a town, everybody fled from him because of the whiskers
which had belonged to so fierce a beast. The Raja of that country,
begging for one of them, and giving him food, he presented him with
one of the whiskers in payment. After paying his way in a similar
manner at seven successive villages, the Petrified Pilgrim at length
reached Mecca."
"Bores," or "eagres," at the mouths of rivers, and floods [15] due to
heavy rain, are conceived to be caused by the passage of some gigantic
animal, most probably a sort of dragon, as in the case of landslips,
which will be mentioned later.
This animal, whose passage up rivers is held to cause the tidal wave
or bore, is called Bena in Selangor. It is a matter of common report
among Malays at Jugra, on the Selangor coast, that a bore formerly
"frequented" the Langat river, near its mouth. This was anterior
to the severance of the narrow neck of land [16] at Bandar that
divided the old channel of the Langat river from the stream into
which the waters of the Langat now flow, forming the short cut to
the sea called the Jugra Passage. In the days when the bore came up
the river the Malays used to go out in small canoes or dug-outs to
"sport amongst the breakers" (main gelombang), frequently getting
upset for their pains. Eventually, however (I was told), the bore
was killed by a Langat Malay, who struck it upon the head with a
stick! It is considered that this must be true, since there is no
bore in the Langat river now!
Eclipses (Gerhana) of the sun or moon are considered to be the outward
and visible sign of the devouring of those bodies [17] by a sort of
gigantic dragon (rahu) [18] or dog (anjing). Hence the tumult made
during an eclipse by the Malays, who imagine that if they make a
sufficient din they will frighten the monster away.
The following is an excellent description of a lunar eclipse from
the Malay point of view:--
"One night, when the Moon has waxed nearly to the full, Pekan resounds
with a babel of discordant noise. The large brass gongs, in which
the devils of the Chinese are supposed to take delight, clang and
clash and bray through the still night air; the Malay drums throb and
beat and thud; all manner of shrill yells fill the sky, and the roar
of a thousand native voices rises heavenwards, or rolls across the
white waters of the river, which are flecked with deep shadows and
reflections. The jungles on the far bank take up the sound and send
it pealing back in recurring ringing echoes till the whole world seems
to shout in chorus. The Moon which bathes the earth in splendour, the
Moon which is so dear to each one of us, is in dire peril this night,
for that fierce monster, the Gerhâna, [19] whom we hate and loathe,
is striving to swallow her. You can mark his black bulk creeping over
her, dimming her face, consuming her utterly, while she suffers in the
agony of silence. How often in the past has she served us with the
light; how often has she made night more beautiful than day for our
tired, sun-dazed eyes to look upon; and shall she now perish without
one effort on our part to save her by scaring the Monster from his
prey? No! A thousand times no! So we shout, and clang the gongs,
and beat the drums, till all the animal world joins in the tumult,
and even inanimate nature lends its voice to swell the uproar with
a thousand resonant echoes. At last the hated Monster reluctantly
retreats. Our war-cry has reached his ears, and he slinks sullenly
away, and the pure, sad, kindly Moon looks down in love and gratitude
upon us, her children, to whose aid she owes her deliverance." [20]
The "spots on the moon" [21] are supposed to represent an inverted
banyan tree (Beringin songsang), underneath which an aged hunchback
is seated plaiting strands of tree bark (pintal tali kulit t'rap)
to make a fishing-line, wherewith he intends to angle for everything
upon the earth as soon as his task is completed. It has never been
completed yet, however, for a rat always gnaws the line through in
time to save mankind from disaster, despite the vigilance of the
old man's cat, which is always lying in wait for the offender. [22]
It is perhaps scarcely necessary to add that when the line reaches
the earth the end of the world will come.
"Bujang ('single,' 'solitary,' and hence in a secondary sense
'unmarried') is a Sanskrit word bhujangga, 'a dragon.' 'Bujang Malaka,'
a mountain in Pêrak, is said by the Malays of that State to have
been so called because it stands alone, and could be seen from the
sea by traders who plied in old days between the Pêrak river and
the once flourishing port of Malacca. But it is just as likely to
have been named from some forgotten legend in which a dragon played
a part. Dragons and mountains are generally connected in Malay
ideas. The caves in the limestone hill Gunong Pondok, in Pêrak,
are said to be haunted by a genius loci in the form of a snake who
is popularly called Si Bujang. This seems to prove beyond doubt the
identity of bujang with bhujangga. [23] The snake-spirit of Gunong
Pondok is sometimes as small as a viper, and sometimes as large
as a python, but he may always be identified by his spotted neck,
which resembles that of a wood-pigeon (tekukur). Landslips on the
mountains, which are tolerably frequent during very heavy rains,
and which, being produced by the same cause, are often simultaneous
with the flooding of rivers and the destruction of property, are
attributed by the natives to the sudden breaking forth of dragons
(naga), which have been performing religious penance (ber-tapa)
[24] in the mountains, and which are making their way to the sea." [25]
So, too, many waterfalls and rocks of unusual shape are thought to
owe their remarkable character to the agency of demons. This, however,
is a subject which will be treated more fully later on.
"Palangi, the usual Malay word for the rainbow, means 'striped.' The
name varies, however, in different localities. In Pêrak it is called
palangi minum [26] (from a belief that it is the path by which spirits
descend to the earth to drink), while in Penang it is known as ular
danu ('the snake danu'). In Pêrak, a rainbow which stretches in an
arch across the sky is called bantal ('the pillow '), for some reason
that I have been unable to ascertain. [27] When only a small portion
of a rainbow is visible, which seems to touch the earth, it is called
tunggul ('the flag'), [28] and if this is seen at some particular point
of the compass--the west, I think--it betokens, the Pêrak Malays say,
the approaching death of a Raja. Another popular belief is that the
ends of the rainbow rest upon the earth, and that if one could dig at
the exact spot covered by one end of it, an untold treasure would be
found there. Unfortunately, no one can ever arrive at the place." [29]
"Sunset is the hour when evil spirits of all kinds have most
power. [30] In Pêrak, children are often called indoors at this time
to save them from unseen dangers. Sometimes, with the same object,
a woman belonging to the house where there are young children,
will chew kuniet terus (an evil-smelling root), supposed to be much
disliked by demons of all kinds, and spit it out at seven different
points as she walks round the house.
"The yellow glow which spreads over the western sky, when it is
lighted up with the last rays of the dying sun, is called mambang
kuning ('the yellow deity'), a term indicative of the superstitious
dread associated with this particular period." [31]
CHAPTER II
MAN AND HIS PLACE IN THE UNIVERSE
(a) Creation of Man
A common feature in Malay romances and legends is a description of
the supernatural development of a young child in the interior of some
vegetable production, usually a bamboo.
Sir W. E. Maxwell has pointed out the fact of the existence, both in
Malay and Japanese legends, of the main features of this story, to
which he assigns a Buddhistic origin. He tells the story as follows:--
"The Raja of the Bamboo.--Some years ago I collected a number of
legends current among Malayan tribes having as their principal
incident the supernatural development of a prince, princess, or
demi-god in the stem of a bamboo, or tree, or the interior of some
closed receptacle. [32] I omitted, however, to mention that this very
characteristic Malay myth occurs in the "Sri Rama," a Malay prose
hikayat, [33] which, as its name betokens, professes to describe the
adventures of the hero of the Râmâyana.
"Roorda van Eysinga's edition of the Sri Rama opens with an account of
how Maharaja Dasaratha sent his Chief Mantri, [34] Puspa Jaya Karma,
to search for a suitable place at which to found a settlement. The site
having been found and cleared, the narrative proceeds as follows:--
"'Now there was a clump of the betong [35] bamboo (sa'rumpun buluh
betong), the colour of which was like gold of ten touch (amas sapuloh
mutu), and its leaves like silver. All the trees which grew near
bent in its direction, and it looked like a state umbrella (payong
manuwangi [36]). The Mantri and people chopped at it, but as fast
as they cut down a branch on one side, a fresh one shot forth on
the other, to the great astonishment of all the Rajas, Mantris, and
warriors. Puspa Vikrama Jaya hastened back to King Dasaratha and
laid the matter before him. The latter was greatly surprised, and
declared that he would go himself the next day and see the bamboo cut
down. Next day he set out on a white elephant, attended by a splendid
train of chiefs and followers, and on reaching the spot ordered the
bamboo clump to be cut down. Vikrama Puspa Jaya pointed it out, shaded
by the other forest trees. The king perceived that it was of very
elegant appearance, and that an odour like spices and musk proceeded
from it. He told Puspa Jaya Vikrama to cut it down, and the latter
drew his sword, which was as big as the stem of a cocoa-nut tree, and
with one stroke cut down one of the bamboos. But immediately a fresh
stem shot forth on the other side, and this happened as often as a
stroke was given. Then the king grew wroth, and getting down from his
elephant he drew his own sword and made a cut with it at the bamboo,
which severed a stem. Then, by the divine decree of the Dewatas,
the king became aware of a female form in the bamboo clump seated on
a highly ornamented platform (geta), her face shining like the full
moon when it is fourteen days old, and the colour of her body being
like gold of ten touch. On this, King Dasaratha quickly unloosed his
girdle and saluted the princess. Then he lifted her on to his elephant
and took her to his palace escorted by music and singing.'" [37]
I myself have heard among the Selangor Malays similar legends to the
above, which, as already pointed out, are common in Malay romances. A
parallel myth is described in the following words:--
"Now, the Perak river overflows its banks once a year, and sometimes
there are very great floods. Soon after the marriage of Nakhodah
Kasim with the white Semang, [38] an unprecedented flood occurred
and quantities of foam came down the river. Round the piles of the
bathing-house, which, in accordance with Malay custom, stood in the
bed of the river close to the bank in front of the house, the floating
volumes of foam collected in a mass the size of an elephant. Nakhodah
Kasim's wife went to bathe, and finding this island of froth in her
way she attempted to move it away with a stick; she removed the upper
portion of it and disclosed a female infant sitting in the midst of it
enveloped all round with cloud-like foam. The child showed no fear,
and the white Semang, carefully lifting her, carried her up to the
house, heralding her discovery by loud shouts to her husband. The
couple adopted the child willingly, for they had no children, and
they treated her thenceforward as their own. They assembled the
villagers and gave them a feast, solemnly announcing their adoption
of the daughter of the river and their intention of leaving to her
everything that they possessed.
"The child was called Tan Puteh, but her father gave her the name
of Teh Purba. [39] As she grew up the wealth of her foster-parents
increased; the village grew in extent and population, and gradually
became an important place." [40]
The usual story of the first creation of man, however, appears to be
a Malay modification of Arabic beliefs.
Thus we are told that man was created from the four elements--earth,
air, water, and fire--in a way which the following extract, taken
from a Selangor charm-book, will explain:--
"God Almighty spake unto Gabriel, saying,
'Be not disobedient, O Gabriel,
But go and get me the Heart of the Earth.'
But he could not get the Heart of the Earth.
'I will not give it,' said the Earth.
Then went the Prophet Israfel to get it,
But he could not get the Heart of the Earth.
Then went Michael to get it,
But he could not get the Heart of the Earth.
Then went Azrael to get it,
And at last he got the Heart of the Earth.
When he got the Heart of the Earth
The empyrean and crystalline spheres shook,
And the whole Universe (shook).
When he got the Heart of the Earth he [41] made from it the Image
of Adam.
But the Heart of the Earth was then too hard;
He mixed Water with it, and it became too soft,
(So) he mixed Fire with it, and at last struck out the image
of Adam.
Then he raised up the image of Adam,
And craved Life for it from Almighty God,
And God Almighty gave it Life.
Then sneezed God Almighty, and the image of Adam brake in pieces,
And he (Azrael) returned to remake the image of Adam.
Then God Almighty commanded to take steel of Khorassan,
And drive it down his back, so that it became the thirty-three
bones,
The harder steel at the top, the softer below it.
The harder steel shot up skywards,
And the softer steel penetrated earthwards.
Thus the image of Adam had life, and dwelt in Paradise.
(There) Adam beheld (two ?) peacocks of no ordinary beauty,
And the Angel Gabriel appeared.
'Verily, O Angel Gabriel, I am solitary,
Easier is it to live in pairs, I crave a wife.'
God Almighty spake, saying, 'Command Adam
To pray at dawn a prayer of two genuflexions.'
Then Adam prayed, and our Lady Eve descended,
And was captured by the Prophet Adam;
But before he had finished his prayer she was taken back,
Therefore Adam prayed the prayer of two genuflexions as desired,
And at the last obtained our Lady Eve.
When they were married (Eve) bore twins every time,
Until she had borne forty-four children,
And the children, too, were wedded, handsome with handsome,
and plain with plain."
The magician who dictated the above account stated that when
Azrael stretched forth his hand to take the Heart of the Earth, the
Earth-spirit caught hold of his middle finger, which yielded to the
strain, and thus became longer than the rest, and received its Malay
name of the "Devil's Finger" (jari hantu).
A parallel account adds that the Heart of the Earth was white, and
gives a fuller description of the interview between Azrael and his
formidable antagonist, the Earth. After saluting the latter in the
orthodox Muhammadan fashion, Azrael explains his mission, and is met by
a point-blank refusal. "I will not give it," said the Earth (referring
to its Heart), "forasmuch as I was so created by God Almighty, and
if you take away my Heart I shall assuredly die." At this brusque,
though perhaps natural retort, the archangel loses his temper, and
rudely exclaims that he "will take the Earth's Heart whether it will
or no." Here Azrael "gave the Earth a push with his right hand and
his left, and grasping at the Heart of the Earth, got hold of it and
carried it back to the presence of God." God now summons Gabriel and
orders him to mould (lit. forge) the image of Adam. Then Gabriel took
the lump of earth which was the Earth's Heart and mixed it first with
water to soften it, then, as it was too soft, with fire to harden
it, and when the image was made, obtained life from God to put into
it. [42] [The breaking of the first image which was made, and the
making of the second, are here omitted]. Finally, the creation of
"our Lady" Eve and the birth of her first-born are described, the
latter occasion being accompanied by a thick darkness, which compelled
Adam to take off his turban and beat the child therewith in order to
dispel the evil influences (badi) which had attended its birth. [43]
The following extract (from a Malay treatise quoted by Newbold)
fairly describes the general state of Malay ideas respecting the
constitution of the human body:--
"Plato, Socrates, Galen, Aristotle, and other philosophers affirm that
God created man of a fixed number of bones, blood-vessels, etc. For
instance, the skull is composed of 5 1/2 bones, the place of smell
and sense of 7 bones, between this and the neck are 32 bones. The
neck is composed of 7 bones, and the back of 24 bones; 208 bones are
contained in the other members of the body. In all there are 360
bones and 360 blood-vessels in a man's body. The brains weigh 306
miscals, the blood 573. The total of all the bones, blood-vessels,
large and small, and gristles, amounts to 1093; and the hairs of
the head to six lacs and 4000. The frame of man is divided into 40
great parts, which are again subdivided. Four elements enter into his
composition, viz. air, fire, earth, and water. With these elements are
connected four essences--the soul or spirit with air, love with fire,
concupiscence with earth, and wisdom with water." [44]
(b) Sanctity of the Body
In dealing with this branch of the subject I will first take the case
of the kings and priestly magicians who present the most clearly-marked
examples of personal sanctity which are now to be found among Malays,
and will then describe the chief features of the sanctity ascribed to
all ranks alike in respect of certain special parts of the ordinary
human anatomy. The theory of the king as the Divine Man is held perhaps
as strongly in the Malay region as in any other part of the world,
a fact which is strikingly emphasised by the alleged right of Malay
monarchs "to slay at pleasure, without being guilty of a crime." Not
only is the king's person considered sacred, but the sanctity of his
body is believed to communicate itself to his regalia, and to slay
those who break the royal taboos. Thus it is firmly believed that
any one who seriously offends the royal person, who touches (even
for a moment) or who imitates (even with the king's permission) the
chief objects of the regalia, [45] or who wrongfully makes use of
any of the insignia or privileges of royalty, will be kena daulat,
i.e. struck dead, by a quasi-electric discharge of that Divine Power
which the Malays suppose to reside in the king's person, [46] and which
is called "Daulat" or "Royal Sanctity." Before I proceed, however,
to discuss this power, it will be best to give some description of
the regalia in which it resides:--
Of Malacca Newbold says: "The articles of Malay regalia usually consist
of a silasila, or book of genealogical descent, a code of laws, a vest
or baju, and a few weapons, generally a kris, kleywang, or spear." [47]
"The limbing is a sort of lance; the tombak bandrang a spear of state,
four or seven of which are usually carried before the chiefs in the
interior of the Peninsula. The handle is covered with a substance
flowing from it like a horse-tail, dyed crimson, sometimes crimson
and white; this is generally of hair." [48]
So in Leyden's translation of the Malay Annals (1821) we read--
"My name is Bichitram Shah, who am raja.... This is the sword, Chora
sa mendang kian (i.e. mandakini), and that is the lance, Limbuar
(i.e. limbuara); this is the signet, Cayu Gampit, which is employed
in correspondence with rajas." [49]
"The Chora sa medang kian (i.e. mandakini) is the celebrated sword
with which Peramas Cumunbang killed the enormous serpent Sicatimuna,
which ravaged the country of Menangkabowe about the beginning of the
twelfth century." [50]
Of the Perak regalia we read: "Tan Saban was commanded by his mistress
to open negotiations with Johor, and this having been done, a prince of
the royal house of that kingdom, who traced his descent from the old
line of Menangkabau, sailed for Perak to assume the sovereignty. He
brought with him the insignia of royalty, namely, the royal drums
(gandang nobat), the pipes (nafiri), the flutes (sarunei and bangsi),
the betel-box (puan naga taru), the sword (chora mandakini), the
sword (perbujang), the sceptre (kayu gamit), the jewel (kamala), the
surat chiri, the seal of state (chap halilintar), and the umbrella
(ubar-ubar). All these were enclosed in a box called Baninan." [51]
In Selangor the regalia consisted of the royal instruments of
music--(the big State Drum or naubat, beaten at the king's coronation;
the two small State Drums (gendang); the two State Kettle-drums
(langkara); the lempiri or State Trumpet, and the serunei or State
Flute--to which perhaps a bangsi should be added, as in the Perak
list)--which were seldom, if ever, moved, and the following articles
which were carried in procession on state occasions: [52]--
1. The royal Betel-box.
2. The Long K'ris--a kind of rapier used for Malay executions.
3. The two royal Swords; one on the right hand and one on the left
(all of the articles mentioned hitherto being carried in front
of the Sultan).
4. The royal "Fringed" Umbrella (payong ubor-ubor), carried behind
the right-hand sword-bearer.
5. The royal "Cuspadore," carried behind the left-hand
sword-bearer.
6. The royal Tobacco-box, carried at the Sultan's back.
7. The eight royal tufted Lances (tombak bendrang or bandangan),
whose bearers were followed by two personal attendants, the
latter of whom attended, besides, to anything that was broken
or damaged; so that the procession numbered seventeen persons
in all. [53]
Of the Pahang regalia I have not been able to obtain a list with
any pretensions to completeness, but from a remark by Mr. Clifford
(the present Resident) in one of his books, they would appear to be
essentially the same as those of the other Federated States. [54]
A list of the Jelebu regalia (given me by Ungku Said Kechil of Jelebu)
ran as follows:--
1. A single-bladed Sword (pedang pemanchor).
2. The Long K'ris (k'ris panjang, penyalang), used for executions.
3. The royal Lances (tombak bendrang).
4. The royal Umbrella (payong kabesaran).
5. The royal Standard and Pennants (tunggul ular-ular).
6. The royal Ceiling-cloth and Hangings (tabir, langit-langit
dewangga).
7. The "Moving Mountains" (gunong dua berangkat), perhaps the
names of two peaked pillows.
8. The royal Drums (gendang naubat); said to be "headed" with the
skins of lice (kulit tuma) and to emit a single chord of twelve
tones when struck (dua-b'las bunyi sakali di-pukol).
9. The royal Trumpet (lempiri or |
nempiri). | Each of these was also said to
10. The royal Gong. | emit a single chord of twelve
11. The royal Guitar (kechapi). | notes.
12. The royal rebab or Malay fiddle.
This latter peculiarity (of the multiplication of notes) is quite
in accordance with the traditions of the king's musical instruments
in Malay romances. Thus of Raja Donan's magic flute we are told,
"The first time (that he sounded it), the flute gave forth the sounds
of twelve instruments, the second time it played as if twenty-four
instruments were being sounded, and the third time it played like
thirty-six different instruments." No wonder we are told that "the
Princesses Che Ambong and Che Muda dissolved in tears, and the music
had to be stopped." [55]
My informant declared that these objects came into existence of
themselves (terjali sendiri), at a spot between the two peaks of
a burning mountain (gunong merapi) in the country of Menangkabau
in Sumatra. He also averred that "rain could not rot them nor sun
blister them," and that any one who "brushed past them" (di-lintas)
would fall to the ground; [56] whilst no fewer than seven buffaloes
have to be slaughtered before the "moving mountains" (when worn out)
can be replaced. [57]
An enumeration of the writer's regalia often forms an important part
of a letter from one Malay sovereign to another, more especially when
the writer wishes to emphasise his importance. [58]
But the extraordinary strength of the Malay belief in the supernatural
powers of the regalia of their sovereigns can only be thoroughly
realised after a study of their romances, in which their kings are
credited with all the attributes of inferior gods, whose birth, as
indeed every subsequent act of their after life, is attended by the
most amazing prodigies.
They are usually invulnerable, and are gifted with miraculous powers,
such as that of transforming themselves, and of returning to (or
recalling others to) life; in fact they have, in every way, less of
the man about them and more of the god. Thus it is that the following
description of the dress of an old-time Raja falls easily into line
with what would otherwise appear the objectless jargon which still
constitutes the preamble of many a Malay prince's letters, but which
can yet be hardly regarded as mere rhetoric, since it has a deep
meaning for those who read it:--
"He wore the trousers called beraduwanggi, miraculously made without
letting in pieces; hundreds of mirrors encircled his waist, thousands
encircled his legs, they were sprinkled all about his body, and larger
ones followed the seams."
Then his waistband (kain ikat pinggang) was of "flowered cloth,
twenty-five cubits in length, or thirty if the fringe be included;
thrice a day did it change its colours--in the morning transparent as
dew, at mid-day of the colour of lembayong, [59] and in the evening
of the hue of oil."
Next came his coat. It was "of reddish purple velvet, thrice brilliant
the lustre of its surface, seven times powerful the strength of
the dye; the dyer after making it sailed the world for three years,
but the dye still clung to the palms of his hands."
His dagger was "a straight blade of one piece which spontaneously
screwed itself into the haft. The grooves, called retak mayat, [60]
started from the base of the blade, the damask called pamur janji
appeared half-way up, and the damask called lam jilallah at the
point; the damask alif was there parallel with the edge, and where
the damasking ended the steel was white. No ordinary metal was the
steel, it was what was over after making the bolt of God's Ka'abah
(at Meccah). It had been forged by the son of God's prophet, Adam,
smelted in the palm of his hand, fashioned with the end of his finger,
and coloured with the juice of flowers in a Chinese furnace. Its deadly
qualities came down to it from the sky, and if cleaned (with acid)
at the source of a river, the fish at the embouchure came floating
up dead.
"The sword that he wore was called lang pengonggong, [61] 'the
successful swooper,' lit. the 'kite carrying off its prey.'
"The next article described is his turban, which, among the Malays,
is a square handkerchief folded and knotted round the head."
"He next took his royal handkerchief, knotting it so that it stood
up with the ends projecting; one of them he called dendam ta' sudah
(endless love): it was purposely unfinished; if it were finished the
end of the world would come. It had been woven in no ordinary way,
but had been the work of his mother from her youth. Wearing it he was
provided with all the love-compelling secrets. (The names of a number
of charms to excite passion are given, but they cannot be explained
in the compass of a note)." [62]
He wore the Malay national garment--the sarong. It was "a robe of
muslin of the finest kind; no ordinary weaving had produced it; it
had been woven in a jar in the middle of the ocean by people with
gills, relieved by others with beaks; no sooner was it finished than
the maker was put to death, so that no one might be able to make one
like it. It was not of the fashion of the clothing of the rajas of the
present day, but of those of olden time. If it were put in the sun it
got damper, if it were soaked in water it became drier. A slight tear
mended by darning only increased its value, instead of lessening it,
for the thread for the purpose cost one hundred dollars. A single
dewdrop dropping on it would tangle the thread for a cubit's length,
while the breath of the south wind would disentangle it."
Finally, we get a description of the way in which the Raja (S'ri Rama)
set out upon his journey.
"He adopted the art called sedang budiman, the young snake writhed at
his feet (i.e. he started at mid-day when his own shadow was round his
feet), a young eagle was flying against the wind overhead; he took a
step forward and then two backward, one forward as a sign that he was
leaving his country, and two backward as a sign that he would return;
as he took a step with the right foot, loud clanked his accoutrements
[63] on his left; as he put forth the left foot a similar clank was
heard on his right; he advanced, swelling out his broad chest, and
letting drop his slender fingers, adopting the gait called 'planting
beans,' and then the step called 'sowing spinach.'" [64]
In addition to the sanctity of the regalia, the king, as the divine
man, possesses an infinite multitude of prerogatives which enter into
almost every act of his private life, and thus completely separate
him from the generality of his fellow-men.
These prerogatives are too numerous to be mentioned in detail, but
the following extract from Leyden's translation of the "Malay Annals"
will give a general idea of their character and extent:--
"Sultan Muhammed Shah again established in order the throne of
his sovereignty. He was the first who prohibited the wearing of
yellow clothes in public, not even a handkerchief of that colour,
nor curtains, nor hangings, nor large pillow-cases, nor coverlets,
nor any envelope of any bundle, nor the cloth lining of a house,
excepting only the waist cloth, the coat, and the turban. He also
prohibited the constructing of houses with abutments, or smaller houses
connected with them; also suspended pillars or timbers (tiang gantong);
nor timbers the tops of which project above the roofs, and also summer
houses. [65] He also prohibited the ornamenting of creeses with gold,
and the wearing anklets of gold, and the wearing the koronchong, or
hollow bracelets (anklets?) of gold, ornamented with silver. None of
these prohibited articles did he permit to be worn by a person, however
rich he might be, unless by his particular licence, a privilege which
the raja has ever since possessed. He also forbade any one to enter the
palace unless wearing a cloth petticoat [66] of decent length, with his
creese in front; [67] and a shoulder-cloth; and no person was permitted
to enter unless in this array, and if any one wore his creese behind
him, it was incumbent on the porter of the gate to seize it. Such is
the order of former time respecting prohibition by the Malayu rajas,
and whatever is contrary to this is a transgression against the
raja, and ought to incur a fine of five cati. The white umbrella,
which is superior to the yellow one, because it is seen conspicuous
at a greater distance, was also confined to the raja's person, [68]
while the yellow umbrella was confined to his family." [69]
A number of other particulars bearing on this subject will be found
in other parts of the text, and in the Appendix references are given
to other works for additional details, which are too numerous to be
recorded here.
"At funerals, whether the deceased has been a great or insignificant
person, if he be a subject, the use of the Payong (umbrella) and
the Puwadi is interdicted, as also the distribution of alms, unless
by royal permission; otherwise the articles thus forbidden will be
confiscated." "Puwadi is the ceremony of spreading a cloth, generally
a white one, for funeral and other processions to walk upon. Should
the deceased be of high rank, the cloth extends from the house where
the corpse is deposited, to the burial-ground." [70]
Similar prohibitions are still in force at the courts of the Malay
Sultans in the Peninsula, though a yellow umbrella is now generally
substituted for the white, at least in Selangor.
A distinction is also now drawn between manufactured yellow cloth and
cloth which has been dyed yellow with saffron, the wrongful use of
the latter (the genuine article) being regarded as the more especially
heinous act.
In addition to the royal monopoly of such objects as have been
mentioned, Sir W. E. Maxwell mentions three royal perquisites
(larangan raja), i.e. river turtles (tuntong) (by which he no doubt
means their eggs); elephants (by which he doubtless means elephants'
tusks); [71] and the fruit of the "ketiar" from which oil is made
by the Perak Malays. He adds, "It used to be a capital offence to
give false information to the Raja about any of these. The 'ketiar'
tree is said to affect certain localities, and is found in groves
not mixed with other trees. In former days, when the fruit was ripe,
the whole of the Raja's household would turn out to gather it. It is
said to yield a very large percentage of oil." [72]
The only tree in Ridley's list [73] whose name at all resembles the
"ketiar" is the katiak, which is identified as Acronychia Porteri,
Wall (Rutaceæ).
A description of the gathering of the eggs of river turtles by the
royal party in Perak will be found in Malay Sketches. [74]
Besides the above there are not a few linguistic taboos connected with
the king's person, such as the use of the words santap, to eat; beradu,
to sleep; bersemaiam, to be seated, or to "reside" in a certain place;
berangkat, to "progress"; siram, to bathe; g'ring, to be sick; and
mangkat, to die; all of which words are specially substituted for the
ordinary Malay words when reference is made to the king. [75] Moreover,
when the king dies his name is dropped, and he receives the title of
"Marhum," the late or "deceased," with the addition of an expression
alluding to some prominent fact in his life, or occasionally to the
place of his decease. These titles, strange as it may seem, are often
the reverse of complimentary, and occasionally ridiculous. [76]
It must not be forgotten, too, in discussing the divine attributes
of the Malay king, that he is firmly believed to possess a personal
influence over the works of nature, such as the growth of the crops and
the bearing of fruit-trees. This same property is supposed to reside in
a lesser degree in his delegates, and even in the persons of Europeans
in charge of districts. Thus I have frequently known (in Selangor)
the success or failure of the rice crops attributed to a change of
district officers, and in one case I even heard an outbreak of ferocity
which occurred among man-eating crocodiles laid at the door of a most
zealous and able, though perhaps occasionally somewhat unsympathetic,
representative of the Government. So, too, on one occasion when three
deaths occurred during a District Officer's temporary absence, the mere
fact of his absence was considered significant. I may add that royal
blood is supposed by many Malays to be white, and this is the pivot
on which the plot of not a few Malay folk-tales is made to turn. [77]
Finally, it must be pointed out that the greatest possible importance
is attached to the method of saluting the king.
In the "Sri Rama" (the Malay Ramayana) we read, even of the chiefs,
that--
"While yet some way off they bowed to the dust,
When they got near they made obeisance,
Uplifting at each step their fingers ten,
The hands closed together like the rootlets of the bakong palm [78]
The fingers one on the other like a pile of sirih[2] leaves." [79]
Equals in rank when saluting one another touch [80] (though they do
not shake) each other's hands, but a person of humble birth must not
touch hands in saluting a great chief. "A man, named Imam Bakar, was
once slain at Pasir Tambang, at the mouth of the Tembeling river. He
incautiously touched hands in greeting with a Chief called To' Gajah,
and the latter, seizing him in an iron grip, held him fast, while he
was stabbed to death with spears." [81]
In saluting a great Chief, like the Dato' Maharaja Perba Jelai, the
hands are "lifted up in salutation with the palms pressed together,
as in the attitude of Christian prayer, but the tips of the thumbs
are not suffered to ascend beyond the base of the chin. In saluting a
real Râja, the hands are carried higher and higher, according to the
prince's rank, until, for the Sultân, the tips of the thumbs are on a
level with the forehead. Little details such as these are of immense
importance in the eyes of the Malays, and not without reason, seeing
that in an Independent Native State many a man has come by his death
for carelessness in their observance." [82]
In the king's audience hall the formal salutations are performed in
a sitting posture, and in this case, too, the greatest attention is
paid to the height to which the hands are raised. The chief twice
makes salutation in a sitting posture as he advances, and at the
third advance bends over the Sultan's hands, two more salutations
being made on his way back to his place.
A flagrant infringement of any of the prerogatives of the Sultan,
such as those I have described, is certain, it is thought, to prove
fatal, more or less immediately.
Thus the death of Penghulu Mohit, a well-known Malay headman of
the Klang district, in Selangor, which took place while I was in
charge of that district, was at the time very generally attributed
by the local Malays to his usurpation of certain royal privileges
or prerogatives on the occasion of his daughter's wedding. One of
these was his acceptance of gift-buffaloes, decorated after the royal
fashion, which were presented to him as wedding gifts in his daughter's
honour. These buffaloes had a covering of cloth put over them, their
horns covered, and a crescent-shaped breast-ornament (dokoh) hung
about their necks. Thus dressed they were taken to Mohit's house in
solemn procession. [83] It was, at the time, considered significant
that the very first of these gift-buffaloes, which had been brought
overland from Jugra, where the Sultan lived, had died on arrival, and
whatever the cause may have been, it is a fact that Mohit's mother
died a day or two after the conclusion of the wedding ceremonies,
and that Mohit himself was taken ill almost immediately and died only
about a fortnight later.
The only person who, in former days, was not in the least affected by
the royal taboos which protected the regalia from the common touch
was the (now I believe extinct) official who held the post of Court
Physician (Maharaja Lela). He, and he alone, might go freely in the
royal apartments wherever he chose, and the immunity and freedom which
he enjoyed in this respect passed into a proverb, the expression "to
act the Court Physician" (buat Maharaja Lela) being used to describe
an altogether unwarrantable familiarity or impertinence.
The following story (though I tell it against myself) is perhaps
the best illustration I can give of the great danger supposed to be
incurred by those who meddle with the paraphernalia of royalty. Among
the late Sultan's insignia of royalty (in 1897) were a couple of
drums (gendang) and the long silver trumpet which I have already
described. Such trumpets are found among the kabesaran or regalia
of most Malay States, and are always, I believe, called lempiri or
nempiri (Pers. nafiri). They are considered so sacred that they can
only be handled or sounded, it is believed, by a tribe of Malays
called "Orang Kalau," or the "Kalau men," [84] as any one else who
attempted to sound them would be struck dead. Even the "Orang Kalau,"
moreover, can only sound this instrument at the proper time and season
(e.g. at the proclamation of a new sovereign), for if they were to
sound it at any other time its noise would slay all who heard it,
since it is the chosen habitation of the "Jin Karaja'an" or State
Demon, [85] whose delight it would be, if wrongfully disturbed,
to slay and spare not. [86]
This trumpet and the drums of the Selangor regalia were kept by
the present Sultan (then Raja Muda, or Crown Prince of Selangor)
in a small galvanised iron cupboard which stood (upon posts about
three feet high) in the middle of a lawn outside His Highness'
"garden residence" at Bandar. His Highness himself informed me that
they had once been kept in the house itself, but when there they
were the source of infinite annoyance and anxiety to the inmates on
account of their very uncanny behaviour!
Drops of perspiration, for instance, would form upon the Trumpet
when a leading member of the Royal House was about to die (this
actually happened, as I was told, at Langat just before the death of
Tungku 'Chik, the late Sultan's eldest daughter, who died during my
residence in the neighbourhood). Then one Raja Bakar, son of a Raja
`Ali, during the rethatching of the house at Bandar, accidentally
trod upon the wooden barrel of one of the State Drums--and died in
consequence of his inadvertence. When, therefore, a hornet's nest
formed inside one of these same drums it was pretty clear that things
were going from bad to worse, and a Chinaman was ordered to remove it,
no Malay having been found willing to risk his life in undertaking so
dangerous an office--an unwillingness which was presently justified,
as the Chinaman, too, after a few days' interval, swelled up and
died. Both these strange coincidences were readily confirmed by
the present Sultan on an occasion when I happened to question the
authenticity of the story, and as His Highness is one of the most
enlightened and truthful of men, such confirmation cannot easily be
set aside. But the strangest coincidence of all was to follow, for
not long afterwards, having never seen that portion of the regalia
which was in the Raja Muda's charge, I happened to mention to a Malay
friend of mine at Jugra my wish to be allowed to examine these objects,
and was at once begged not to touch them, on the ground that "no one
could say what might follow." But shortly after, having occasion to
visit the Raja Muda at his house at Bandar, I took the opportunity
of asking whether there was any objection to my seeing these much
debated objects, and as His Highness not only very obligingly assented,
but offered to show them to me himself, I was able both to see and to
handle them, His Highness himself taking the Trumpet out of its yellow
case and handing it to me. I thought nothing more of the matter at
the time, but, by what was really a very curious coincidence, within
a few days' time of the occurrence, was seized with a sharp attack
of malarial influenza, the result of which was that I was obliged to
leave the district, and go into hospital at headquarters. In a Malay
village news spreads quickly, and the report of my indisposition,
after what was no doubt regarded as an act of extraordinary rashness,
appears to have made a profound impression, and the result of it was
that a Malay who probably considered himself indebted to me for some
assistance he had received, bound himself by a vow to offer sacrifice
at the shrine of a famous local saint should I be permitted to return
to the district. Of this, however, I knew nothing at the time, and
nothing could have exceeded my astonishment when I found upon my
return that it was my duty to attend the banquet which took place at
the saint's tomb in honour of my own recovery! [87]
Having shown the wide gulf which divides the "divine man" from
his fellows, I have still to point out the extent to which certain
portions of the human frame have come to be invested with sanctity,
and to require to be treated with special ceremonies. These parts
of the anatomy are, in particular, the head, the hair, the teeth,
the ears, and the nails, all of which I will take in their order.
The head, in the first place, is undoubtedly still considered by the
Malays to possess some modified degree of sanctity. A proof of this is
the custom (`adat) which regulates the extent of the sacrifice to be
offered in a case of assault or battery by the party committing the
injury. If any part of the head is injured, nothing less than a goat
will suffice (the animal being killed and both parties bathed in the
blood); if the upper part of the body, the slaughter of a cock (to be
disposed of in a similar way) will be held to be sufficient reparation,
and so on, the sacrifice becoming of less value in proportion as the
injured part is farther from the head. So, too, Mr. Frazer writes:
"The ... superstition (of the sanctity of the head) exists among
the Malays; for an early traveller reports that in Java people 'wear
nothing on their heads, and say that nothing must be on their heads,
... and if any person were to put his hand upon their head they would
kill him; and they do not build houses with stories in order that
they may not walk over each other's heads.' It is also found in full
force throughout Polynesia." [88]
From the principle of the sanctity of the head flows, no doubt, the
necessity of using the greatest circumspection during the process
of cutting the hair. [89] Sometimes throughout the whole life of
the wearer, and frequently during special periods, the hair is left
uncut. Thus I was told that in former days Malay men usually wore
their hair long, and I myself have seen an instance of this at Jugra
in Selangor in the person of a Malay [90] of the old school, who
was locally famous on this account. So, too, during the forty days
which must elapse before the purification of a woman after the birth
of her child, the father of the child is forbidden to cut his hair,
and a similar abstention is said to have been formerly incumbent upon
all persons either prosecuting a journey or engaging in war. Often a
boy's head is entirely shaven shortly after birth with the exception
of a single lock in the centre of the head, and so maintained until
the boy begins to grow up, but frequently the operation is postponed
(generally, it is said, in consequence of a vow made by the child's
parents) until the period of puberty or marriage. Great care,
too, must be exercised in disposing of the clippings of hair (more
especially the first clippings), as the Malay profoundly believes
that "the sympathetic connection which exists between himself and
every part of his body continues to exist even after the physical
connection has been severed, and that therefore he will suffer from
any harm that may befall the severed parts of his body, such as the
clippings of his hair or the parings of his nails. Accordingly he
takes care that those severed portions of himself shall not be left
in places where they might either be exposed to accidental injury,
or fall into the hands of malicious persons who might work magic on
them to his detriment or death." [91]
Thus we invariably find clippings of the victim's hair mentioned
(together with parings of his nails, etc.) as forming part of the
ingredients of the well-known wax image or mannikin into which pins
are stuck, and which is still believed by all Malays to be a most
effective method of causing the illness or death of an enemy. [92]
I was once present at the curious ceremony of cutting the hair of a
Malay bride, which had all the characteristics of a religious rite, but
the detailed account of it will be reserved for a later chapter. [93]
The same difficulties and dangers which beset the first cutting of the
hair apply, though perhaps in a less degree, to the first paring of the
nails (bertobak), the boring of the ears of girls (bertindek telinga),
and the filing of the teeth (berasah gigi) of either sex whether at
puberty or marriage. One or more of the nails are frequently worn
long by Malays of standing, and the women who engage in "nautch"
dancing and theatrical performances invariably wear a complete set
of artificial nails (changgei). These latter are usually of brass,
are often several inches in length, and are made so as to fit on
to the tips of the fingers. Occasionally a brass ring with a small
peacock, or some such bird, of the same material will be attached to
the end of the nail by a minute brass chain. The practice of wearing
long nails is sometimes attributed to Chinese influence, but it is
hard to see why this particular detail of Malay custom, which is
quite in keeping with the general trend of Malay ideas about the
person, should be supposed to be derived from China. The borrowing,
if any, is much more likely to have been on the part of the Chinese,
who undoubtedly imported many Indian ideas along with Buddhism. The
custom appears to be followed, moreover, in many places, such as the
interior of Sumatra, where Chinese influence is non-existent. In Siam,
again, it appears to obtain very strongly; [94] but no reason has yet
been shown for supposing that this is anything but an instance of the
similarity of results independently arrived at by nations starting
with similar premisses.
The ear-boring and tooth-filing ceremonies which still not infrequently
take place at the age of puberty in both sexes are of no less religious
import than the rite of cutting the first lock. The main details of
these ceremonies will be described in a later part of this book. [95]
To the same category (of sacred things having physical connection with
the body) should doubtless be referred such objects as the eyebrows,
the saliva, and soil taken from the (naked) footstep, all of which
are utilised by the magician to achieve his nefarious ends.
(c) The Soul
The Malay conception of the Human Soul (Semangat) [96] is that of
a species of "Thumbling," "a thin, unsubstantial human image," or
mannikin, which is temporarily absent from the body in sleep, trance,
disease, and permanently absent after death.
This mannikin, which is usually invisible but is supposed to be about
as big as the thumb, corresponds exactly in shape, proportion, and even
in complexion, to its embodiment or casing (sarong), i.e. the body in
which it has its residence. It is of a "vapoury, shadowy, or filmy"
essence, though not so impalpable but that it may cause displacement
on entering a physical object, and as it can "fly" or "flash" quickly
from place to place, it is often, perhaps metaphorically, addressed
as if it were a bird. [97]
Thus in a charm given in the Appendix we find--
"Hither, Soul, come hither!
Hither, Little One, come hither!
Hither, Bird, come hither!
Hither, Filmy One, come hither!" [98]
As this mannikin is the exact reproduction in every way of its bodily
counterpart, and is "the cause of life and thought in the individual
it animates," it may readily be endowed with quasi-human feelings,
and "independently possess the personal consciousness and volition
of its corporeal owner." Thus we find the following appeal addressed
to the soul in the charm just quoted:--
"Do not bear grudges,
Do not bear malice,
Do not take it as a wrong,
Do not take it as a transgression."
These quasi-human attributes of the soul being so complete, it is an
easy stretch of the imagination to provide it with a house, which is
generally in practice identified with the body of its owner, but may
also be identified with any one of its temporary domiciles. Thus in
the charm already quoted we read--
"Return to your own House and House-ladder,
To your own House-floor, of which the planks have started,
And your Roof-thatch 'starred' with holes."
The state of disrepair into which the soul's house (i.e. the sick man's
body) is described as having fallen, is here attributed to the soul's
absence. [99] The completeness of this figurative identification of
the soul's "house" with its owner's body, and of the soul's "sheath" or
casing with both, is very clearly brought out in the following lines:--
"Cluck! cluck! Soul of this sick man, So-and-so!
Return into the Frame and Body of So-and-so,
To your own House and House-ladder, to your own Clearing and Yard,
To your own Parents, to your own Casing."
And this is no mere chance expression, for in another charm the soul
is adjured in these words:--
"As you remember your own parents, remember me,
As you remember your own House and House-ladder, remember
me." [100]
The soul "appears to men (both waking and asleep) as a phantom separate
from the body of which it bears the likeness," "manifests physical
power," and walks, sits, and sleeps:--
"Cluck! cluck! Soul of So-and-so, come and walk with me,
Come and sit with me,
Come and sleep with me, and share my pillow." [101]
It would probably be wrong to assume the foregoing expressions to have
always been merely figurative. Rather, perhaps, we should consider
them as part of a singularly complete and consistent animistic
system formerly invented and still held by the Malays. Again, from
the above ideas it follows that if you call a soul in the right way
it will hear and obey you, and you will thus be able either to recall
to its owner's body a soul which is escaping (riang semangat), or to
abduct the soul of a person whom you may wish to get into your power
(mengambil semangat orang), and induce it to take up its residence in
a specially prepared receptacle, such as (a) a lump of earth which has
been sympathetically connected by direct contact with the body of the
soul's owner, or (b) a wax mannikin so connected by indirect means,
or even (c) a cloth which has had no such connection whatever. And
when you have succeeded in getting it into your power the abducted
and now imprisoned soul will naturally enjoy any latitude allowed
to (and suffer from any mutilation of) its temporary domicile or
embodiment. [102]
Every man is supposed (it would appear from Malay charms) to possess
seven souls [103] in all, or, perhaps, I should more accurately say,
a sevenfold soul. [104] This "septenity in unity" may perhaps be held
to explain the remarkable importance and persistency of the number
seven in Malay magic, as for instance the seven twigs of the birch,
and the seven repetitions of the charm (in Soul-abduction [105]),
the seven betel leaves, the seven nights' duration of the ceremony,
the seven blows administered to the soul (in other magical and medical
ceremonies), and the seven ears cut for the Rice-soul in reaping. [106]
And, finally, it might explain why the lime-branch which is hung up
in the mosquito-curtain (in another form of soul-abduction [107])
is required to possess seven fruits on a single stalk, i.e. to ensure
there being a separate receptacle for each one of the seven souls.
At the present day the ordinary Malay talks usually of only a single
soul, although he still keeps up the old phraseology in his charms
and charm-books. For the rest, it would appear that there may be some
method in the selection and arrangement of colours.
The "lump of earth from the victim's footprint" used in one form of the
soul-abduction ceremony [108] is to be wrapped up in three thicknesses
of cloth, which must be red, black, and yellow respectively, the yellow
being outside. Again (in the ceremony of casting out "the mischief"
from a sick man), a white cosmetic is assigned for use in the morning,
a red cosmetic for mid-day, and black for sundown. [109]
Now in all, I believe, of what are now called the Federated Malay
States, and probably in all Malay States whatsoever, yellow is the
colour used by royalty, whereas the more exalted and sacred colour,
white (with occasional lapses into yellow), has been adopted by Malay
medicine-men as the colour most likely to conciliate the spirits and
demons with whom they have to deal. Thus the soul-cloth, which, by
the way, is always five cubits long (lima hasta), is sometimes white
and (much more rarely) yellow, and hence in the first instance just
quoted, the yellow cloth, being, next to white, of the colour which
is most complimentary to the demons, is the one which is put outside;
and in the second instance, for similar reasons, the white cosmetic
is to be used first.
The working out of this system, however, must await fresh evidence,
and all I would do now is to emphasise the importance of colour in such
investigations, and to urge the collection of fresh material. [110]
(d) Animal, Vegetable, and Mineral Souls
Hitherto I have treated of human souls only, but animal, mineral, and
vegetable souls will now be briefly discussed. Speaking generally,
I believe the soul to be, within certain limits, conceived as a
diminutive but exact counterpart of its own embodiment, so that
an Animal-soul would be like an animal, a Bird-soul like a bird;
however, lower in the scale of creation it would appear that the Tree-
or Ore-souls, for instance, are supposed, occasionally at least, to
assume the shape of some animal or bird. Thus the soul of Eagle-wood
is thought to take the shape of a bird, the soul of Tin-ore that of a
buffalo, the Gold-soul that of a deer. [111] It has, however, always
been recognised that the soul may enter other bodies besides its own,
or even bodies of a different kind to its own, and hence these may
be only apparent exceptions to the rule that the soul should be the
counterpart of its own embodiment. [112]
"Among races within the limits of savagery, the general doctrine of
souls is found worked out with remarkable breadth and consistency. The
souls of animals are recognised by a natural extension from the theory
of human souls; the souls of trees and plants follow in some vague,
partial way, and the souls of inanimate objects expand the general
category to its extremest boundary." [113]
To the Malay who has arrived at the idea of a generally animated
Nature, but has not yet learned to draw scientific distinctions,
there appears nothing remarkable or unnatural in the idea of
vegetation-souls, or even in that of mineral-souls--rather would he
consider us Europeans illogical and inconsistent were he told that
we allowed the possession of souls to one half of the creation and
denied it to the other.
Realising this, we are prepared to find that the Malay theory of
Animism embraces, at least partially, the human race, [114] animals
[115] and birds, [116] vegetation [117] (trees and plants), reptiles
and fishes, [118] until its extension to inert objects, such as
minerals, [119] and "stocks and stones, weapons, boats, food, clothes,
ornaments, and other objects, which to us are not merely soulless,
but lifeless," brings us face to face with a conception with which
"we are less likely to sympathise."
Side by side with this general conception of an universally animate
nature, we find abundant evidences of a special theory of Human Origin
which is held to account not only for the larger mammals, but also for
the existence of a large number of birds, and even for that of a few
reptiles, fishes, trees and plants, but seems to lose its operative
force in proportion to its descent in the scale of creation, until
in the lowest scale of all, the theory of Human Origin disappears
from sight, and nothing remains but the partial application of a
few vague anthropomorphic attributes. [120] It is, doubtless, to the
prevalence of this theory that we owe the extraordinary persistence
of anthropomorphic ideas about animals, birds, reptiles, trees,
if not of minerals, in Malay magical ceremonies; [121] and it is
hard to say which of these two notions--the theory of Human Origin,
or the other theory of Universal Animism--is to be considered the
original form of Malay belief.
The following tale, which is entitled Charitra Megat Sajobang, and
is told by Selangor Malays, will serve as an illustration of the idea
of Human Origin:--
"There was a married Sakai couple living at Ulu Klang, and they had
a son called Megat Sajobang. When he grew up he said to his mother,
'Mother, get me a passage, I want to go and see other countries.' She
did so, and he left Ulu Klang; and ten or twelve years later, when he
had grown rich enough to buy a splendid ship (p'rahu), he returned
with his wife, who was with child, and seven midwives, who were
watched over by one of his body-guard with a drawn sword. His mother
heard the news of his return, and she made ready, roasting a chika
(monkey) and lotong (monkey), and went with his father on board their
bark canoe to meet their son.
"As they approached they hailed him by his name; but he was ashamed
of their humble appearance, and forbade his men to let them on
board. Though his wife advised him to acknowledge them, 'even if
they were pigs or dogs,' the unfilial son persisted in turning them
away. So they went back to the shore and sat down and wept; and the
old mother, laying her hand upon her shrivelled breast, said, 'If thou
art really my son, reared at my breast, mayest thou be changed into
stone.' In response to her prayer, milk came forth from her breast,
and as she walked away, the ship and all on board were turned into
stone. The mother turned round once more to look at her son, but the
father did not, and by the power of God they were both turned into
trees of the species pauh (a kind of mango) one leaning seawards and
the other towards the land. The fruit of the seaward one is sweet,
but that of the landward one is bitter.
"The ship has now become a hill, and originally was complete with all
its furniture, but the Malays used to borrow the plates and cups,
etc., for feast days and did not return them, until at last there
were none left."
CHAPTER III
Relations with the Supernatural World
(a) The Magician
"The accredited intermediary between men and spirits is the Pawang;
[122] the Pawang is a functionary of great and traditional importance
in a Malay village, though in places near towns the office is
falling into abeyance. In the inland districts, however, the Pawang
is still a power, and is regarded as part of the constituted order
of society, without whom no village community would be complete. It
must be clearly understood that he has nothing whatever to do with
the official Muhammadan religion of the mosque; the village has its
regular staff of elders--the Imam, Khatib, and Bilal--for the mosque
service. But the Pawang is quite outside this system, and belongs
to a different and much older order of ideas; he may be regarded
as the legitimate representative of the primitive 'medicine-man' or
'village-sorcerer,' and his very existence in these days is an anomaly,
though it does not strike Malays as such.
"Very often the office is hereditary, or at least the appointment
is practically confined to the members of one family. Sometimes it
is endowed with certain 'properties' handed down from one Pawang to
his successor, known as the kabesaran, or, as it were, regalia. On
one occasion I was nearly called upon to decide whether these
adjuncts--which consisted, in this particular case, of a peculiar
kind of head-dress--were the personal property of the person then
in possession of them (who had got them from his father, a deceased
Pawang), or were to be regarded as official insignia descending
with the office in the event of the natural heir declining to
serve! Fortunately I was spared the difficult task of deciding this
delicate point of law, as I managed to persuade the owner to take up
the appointment.
"But quite apart from such external marks of dignity, the Pawang is
a person of very real significance. In all agricultural operations,
such as sowing, reaping, irrigation works, and the clearing of jungle
for planting, in fishing at sea, in prospecting for minerals, and in
cases of sickness, his assistance is invoked. He is entitled by custom
to certain small fees; thus, after a good harvest he is allowed, in
some villages, five gantangs of padi, one gantang of rice (beras),
and two chupaks of emping (a preparation of rice and cocoa-nut made
into a sort of sweetmeat) from each householder. After recovery from
sickness his remuneration is the very modest amount of tiga wang
baharu, that is, 7 1/2 cents.
"It is generally believed that a good harvest can only be secured
by complying with his instructions, which are of a peculiar and
comprehensive character.
"They consist largely of prohibitions, which are known as
pantang. Thus, for instance, it is pantang in some places to work in
the rice-field on the 14th and 15th days of the lunar month; and this
rule of enforced idleness, being very congenial to the Malay character,
is, I believe, pretty strictly observed.
"Again, in reaping, certain instruments are proscribed, and in the
inland villages it is regarded as a great crime to use the sickle
(sabit) for cutting the padi; at the very least the first few ears
should be cut with a tuai, a peculiar small instrument consisting of
a semicircular blade set transversely on a piece of wood or bamboo,
which is held between the fingers, and which cuts only an ear or two
at a time. Also the padi must not be threshed by hitting it against
the inside of a box, a practice known as banting padi.
"In this, as in one or two other cases, it may be supposed that the
Pawang's ordinances preserve the older forms of procedure and are
opposed to innovations in agricultural methods. The same is true of
the pantang (i.e. taboo) rule which prescribes a fixed rate of price
at which padi may be sold in the village community to members of the
same village. This system of customary prices is probably a very old
relic of a time when the idea of asking a neighbour or a member of
your own tribe to pay a competition price for an article was regarded
as an infringement of communal rights. It applies to a few other
articles of local produce [123] besides padi, and I was frequently
assured that the neglect of this wholesome rule was the cause of bad
harvests. I was accordingly pressed to fine transgressors, which would
perhaps have been a somewhat difficult thing to do. The fact, however,
that in many places these rules are generally observed is a tribute
to the influence of the Pawang who lends his sanction to them." [124]
"The Pawang keeps a familiar spirit, which in his case is a hantu
pusaka, that is, an hereditary spirit which runs in the family, in
virtue of which he is able to deal summarily with the wild spirits
of an obnoxious character." [125]
The foregoing description is so precise and clear that I have not
much to add to it. There are, however, one or two points which require
emphasis. One of these is that the priestly magician stands in certain
respects on the same footing as the divine man or king--that is to say,
he owns certain insignia which are exactly analogous to the regalia of
the latter, and are, as Mr. Blagden points out, called by the same name
(kabesaran). He shares, moreover, with the king the right to make use
of cloth dyed with the royal colour (yellow), and, like the king,
too, possesses the right to enforce the use of certain ceremonial
words and phrases, in which respect, indeed, his list is longer,
if anything, than that of royalty.
He also acts as a sort of spirit-medium and gives oracles in
trances; possesses considerable political influence; practises
(very occasional) austerities; observes some degree of chastity,
and appears quite sincere in his conviction of his own powers. At
least he always has a most plausible excuse ready to account for his
inability to do whatever is required. An aged magician who came from
Perak to doctor one of H.H. the Sultan's sons (Raja Kahar) while I
was at Langat, had the unusual reputation of being able to raise a
sandbank in the sea at will; but when I asked if I could see it done,
he explained that it could only be done in time of war when he was
hard pressed by an enemy's boat, and he could not do it for the sake
of mere ostentation! Moreover, like members of their profession all
the world over, these medicine-men are, perhaps naturally, extremely
reticent; it was seldom that they would let their books be seen,
much less copied, even for fair payment, and a Pawang once refused
to tell me a charm until I had taken my shoes off and was seated with
him upon a yellow cloth while he repeated the much-prized formula.
The office of magician is, as has been said, very often hereditary. It
is not so always, however, there being certain recognised ways in
which a man may "get magic." One of the most peculiar is as follows:
"To obtain magical powers (`elmu) you must meet the ghost of a
murdered man. Take the midrib of a leaf of the 'ivory' cocoa-nut
palm (pelepah niyor gading), which is to be laid on the grave, and
two more midribs, which are intended to represent canoe-paddles, and
carry them with the help of a companion to the grave of the murdered
man at the time of the full moon (the 15th day of the lunar month)
when it falls upon a Tuesday. Then take a cent's worth of incense,
with glowing embers in a censer, and carry them to the head-post of the
grave of the deceased. Fumigate the grave, going three times round it,
and call upon the murdered man by name:--
'Hearken, So-and-so,
And assist me;
I am taking (this boat) to the saints of God,
And I desire to ask for a little magic.' [126]
Here take the first midrib, fumigate it, and lay it upon the head
of the grave, repeating 'Kur Allah' ('Cluck, cluck, God!') seven
times. You and your companion must now take up a sitting posture, one
at the head and the other at the foot of the grave, facing the grave
post, and use the canoe-paddles which you have brought. In a little
while the surrounding scenery will change and take upon itself the
appearance of the sea, and finally an aged man will appear, to whom
you must address the same request as before."
(b) High Places
"Although officially the religious centre of the village community is
the mosque, there is usually in every small district a holy place known
as the kramat, [127] at which vows are paid on special occasions, and
which is invested with a very high degree of reverence and sanctity.
"These kramats abound in Malacca territory; there is hardly a village
but can boast some two or three in its immediate neighbourhood,
and they are perfectly well known to all the inhabitants.
"Theoretically, kramats are supposed to be the graves of deceased holy
men, the early apostles of the Muhammadan faith, the first founders of
the village who cleared the primeval jungle, or other persons of local
notoriety in a former age; and there is no doubt that many of them are
that and nothing more. But even so, the reverence paid to them and the
ceremonies that are performed at them savour a good deal too much of
ancestor-worship to be attributable to an orthodox Muhammadan origin.
"It is certain, however, that many of these kramats are not graves
at all: many of them are in the jungle, on hills and in groves,
like the high places of the Old Testament idolatries; they contain
no trace of a grave (while those that are found in villages usually
have grave-stones), and they appear to be really ancient sites of a
primitive nature-worship or the adoration of the spirits of natural
objects.
"Malays, when asked to account for them, often have recourse to the
explanations that they are kramat jin, that is, "spirit"-places;
and if a Malay is pressed on the point, and thinks that the orthodoxy
of these practices is being impugned, he will sometimes add that the
jin in question is a jin islam, a Muhammadan and quite orthodox spirit!
"Thus on Bukit Nyalas, near the Johol frontier, there is a kramat
consisting of a group of granite boulders on a ledge of rock
overhanging a sheer descent of a good many feet; bamboo clumps grow
on the place, and there were traces of religious rites having been
performed there, but no grave whatever. This place was explained
to me to be the kramat of one Nakhoda Hussin, described as a jin
(of the orthodox variety), who presides over the water, rain, and
streams. People occasionally burned incense there to avert drought
and get enough water for irrigating their fields. There was another
kramat of his lower down the hill, also consisting of rocks, one of
which was shaped something like a boat. I was informed that this jin
is attended by tigers which guard the hill, and are very jealous
of the intrusion of other tigers from the surrounding country. He
is believed to have revealed himself to the original Pawang of the
village, the mythical founder of the kampong of Nyalas. In a case
like this it seems probable that the name attached to this object
of reverence is a later accretion, and that under a thin disguise
we have here a relic of the worship of the spirit of rivers and
streams, a sort of elemental deity localised in this particular place,
and still regarded as a proper object of worship and propitiation,
in spite of the theoretically strict monotheism of the Muhammadan
creed. Again, at another place the kramat is nothing but a tree,
of somewhat singular shape, having a large swelling some way up the
trunk. It was explained to me that this tree was connected in a special
way with the prospects of local agriculture, the size of the swelling
increasing in good years and diminishing in bad seasons! Hence it was
naturally regarded with considerable awe by the purely agricultural
population of the neighbourhood.
"As may be imagined, it is exceedingly difficult to discover any
authentic facts regarding the history of these numerous kramats:
even where there is some evidence of the existence of a grave, the
name of the departed saint is usually the one fact that is remembered,
and often even that is forgotten. The most celebrated of the Malacca
kramats, the one at Machap, is a representative type of the first
class, that in which there really is a grave: it is the one place
where a hardened liar respects the sanctity of an oath, and it is
occasionally visited in connection with civil cases, when the one
party challenges the other to take a particular oath. A man who thinks
nothing of perjuring himself in the witness-box, and who might not much
mind telling a lie even with the Koran on his head, will flinch before
the ordeal of a falsehood in the presence of the Dato' Machap." [128]
After explaining the difference between beneficent spirits and the
spirits of evil, Mr. Blagden continues: "Some time ago one of these
objectionable hantus (spirits of evil) had settled down in a kerayong
tree in the middle of this village of Bukit Senggeh, and used to
frighten people who passed that way in the dusk; so the Pawang was
duly called upon to exorcise it, and under his superintendence the
tree was cut down, after which there was no more trouble. But it is
certain that it would have been excessively dangerous for an ordinary
layman to do so.
"This point may be illustrated by a case which was reported to me
soon after it occurred, and which again shows the intimate connection
of spirits with trees. A Javanese coolie, on the main road near Ayer
Panas, cut down a tree which was known to be occupied by a hantu. He
was thereupon seized with what, from the description, appears to have
been an epileptic fit, and showed all the traditional symptoms of
demoniac possession. He did not recover till his friends had carried
out the directions of the spirit, speaking through the sufferer's
mouth, it seems, viz., to burn incense, offer rice, and release a
fowl. After which the hantu left him.
"In many places there are trees which are pretty generally believed
to be the abodes of spirits, and not one Malay in ten would venture
to cut one down, while most people would hardly dare to go near
one after dark. On one occasion an exceptionally intelligent Malay,
with whom I was discussing the terms on which he proposed to take up
a contract for clearing the banks of a river, made it an absolute
condition that he should not be compelled to cut down a particular
tree which overhung the stream, on the ground that it was a 'spirit'
tree. That tree had to be excluded from the contract." [129]
The following description, by Sir W. Maxwell, of a Perak kramat may
be taken as fairly typical of the kramat, in which there really is
a grave:--
"Rightly or wrongly the Malays of Larut assign an Achinese origin
to an old grave which was discovered in the forest some years ago,
and of which I propose to give a brief description. It is situated
about half-way between the Larut Residency and the mining village of
Kamunting. In the neighbourhood the old durian trees of Java betoken
the presence of a Malay population at a date long prior to the advent
of the Chinese miner. The grave was discovered about twenty years
ago by workmen employed by the Mentri of Perak to make the Kamunting
road, and it excited much curiosity among the Malays at the time. The
Mentri and all the ladies of his family went on elephants to see it,
and it has been an object of much popular prestige ever since.
"The Malays of Java were able from the village tradition to give the
name and sex of the occupant of this lonely tomb, 'Toh Bidan Susu
Lanjut,' whose name sounds better in the original than in an English
translation. She is said to have been an old Achinese woman of good
family; of her personal history nothing is known, but her claims
to respectability are evinced by the carved head and foot stones
of Achinese workmanship which adorn her grave, and her sanctity
is proved by the fact that the stones are eight feet apart. It is
a well-known Malay superstition that the stones placed to mark the
graves of Saints miraculously increase their relative distance during
the lapse of years, and thus bear mute testimony to the holiness of
the person whose resting-place they mark.
"The kramat on the Kamunting road is on the spur of a hill through
which the roadway is cut. A tree overshadows the grave and is hung with
strips of white cloth and other rags (panji panji) which the devout
have put there. The direction of the grave is as nearly as possible
due north and south. The stones at its head and foot are of the same
size, and in every respect identical one with the other. They are
of sandstone, and are said by the natives to have been brought from
Achin. In design and execution they are superior to ordinary Malay
art, as will be seen, I think, on reference to the rubbings of the
carved surface of one of them, which have been executed for me by the
Larut Survey Office, and which I have transmitted to the Society with
this paper. The extreme measurements of the stones (furnished from
the same source) are 2' 1'' × 0' 9'' × 0' 7''. They are in excellent
preservation, and the carving is fresh and sharp. Some Malays profess
to discover in the three rows of vertical direction on the broadest
face of the slabs the Mohammedan attestation of the unity of God
(La ilaha illa-lla) repeated over and over again; but I confess that
I have been unable to do so. The offerings at a kramat are generally
incense (istangi or satangi) or benzoin (kaminian); these are burned
in little stands made of bamboo rods; one end is stuck in the ground
and the other split into four or five, and then opened out and plaited
with basket work so as to hold a little earth. They are called sangka;
a Malay will often vow that if he succeeds in some particular project,
or gets out of some difficulty in which he may happen to be placed,
he will burn three or more sangka at such and such a kramat. Persons
who visit a kramat in times of distress or difficulty, to pray and
to vow offerings, in case their prayers are granted, usually leave
behind them as tokens of their vows small pieces of white cloth,
which are tied to the branches of a tree or to sticks planted in the
ground near the sacred spot. For votary purposes the long-forgotten
tomb of Toh Bidan Susu Lanjut enjoys considerable popularity among
the Mohammedans of Larut; and the tree which overshadows it has,
I am glad to say, been spared the fate which awaited the rest of the
jungle which overhung the road. No coolie was bold enough to put an
axe to it." [130]
Mr. George Bellamy, writing in 1893, thus described the kramat at
Tanjong Karang in the Kuala Selangor district:--
"The kramat about which I am now writing is a very remarkable one. It
is situated on the extreme point of land at the mouth of the river
Selangor, close to where the new lighthouse has been erected. A
magnificent kayu ara (a kind of fig-tree) forms a prominent feature of
the tanjong (point or cape), and at the base of this tree, enveloped
entirely by its roots, is an oblong-shaped space having the appearance
of a Malay grave, with the headstones complete.... To this sacred
spot constant pilgrimages are made by the Malays, and the lower
branches of the tree rarely lack those pieces of white and yellow
cloth which are always hung up as an indication that some devout
person has paid his vows. The Chinese also have great respect for
this kramat, and have erected a sort of sylvan temple at the foot of
the tree." Mr. Bellamy tells how one Raja `Abdullah fell in love with
a maiden named Miriam, who disappeared and was supposed to have been
taken by the spirits (though she was really carried off by an earlier
lover named Hassan). Raja `Abdullah died and was buried at the foot of
the fig-tree. Mr. Bellamy concludes: "If you ever happen to see a very
big crocodile at the mouth of the Selangor river, floating listlessly
about, be careful not to molest it: it is but the buaya kramat, which
shape the spirit of Raja `Abdullah sometimes assumes. When walking
along the pantai (shore), if you chance to meet a very large tiger let
him pass unharmed. It is only Raja `Abdullah's ghost, and in proof
thereof you will see it leaves no footmarks on the sand. And when
you go to see the new lighthouse at Tanjong Kramat, you may perhaps
come face to face with a very old man, who sadly shakes his head and
disappears. Do not be startled, it is only Raja `Abdullah." [131]
In No. 2 of the same volume of the Selangor Journal Mr. Bellamy refers
to another kramat--that of 'Toh Ketapang--which he appears to localise
in Ulu Selangor.
It is by no means necessary to ensure the popularity of a kramat or
shrine that the saint to whose memory it is dedicated should be a
Malay. The cosmopolitan character of these shrines is attested in
the following note which I sent to the Selangor Journal [132] about
the shrines in the Ulu Langat (Kajang) district of Selangor:--
"The chief kramats in the district are 'Makam 'Toh Sayah' (the tomb of
a Javanese of high repute); 'Makam Said Idris,' at Rekoh, Said Idris
being the father of the Penghulu of Cheras; 'Makam 'Toh Janggut'
(a 'Kampar' man), on the road to Cheras; and 'Makam 'Toh Gerdu or
Berdu,' at Dusun Tua, Ulu Langat. 'Toh Berdu was of Sakai origin."
I have never yet, however, heard of any shrine being dedicated to
a Chinaman, and it is probable that this species of canonisation is
confined (at least in modern times) to local celebrities professing
the Muhammadan religion, as would certainly be the case of the Malays
and Javanese mentioned in the foregoing paragraph, and quite possibly
too in the case of the Sakai.
It is true that Chinese often worship at these shrines--just as, on
the same principle, they employ Malay magicians in prospecting for
tin; but there appear to be certain limits beyond which they cannot
go, as it was related to me when I was living in the neighbourhood,
that a Chinaman who had, in the innocence of his heart, offered at a
Moslem shrine a piece of the accursed pork, was pounced upon and slain
before he reached home by one of the tigers which guarded the shrine.
The shrine of 'Toh Kamarong is one of the most celebrated shrines in
the Langat district, the saint's last resting-place being guarded by a
white elephant and a white tiger, the latter of which had been a pet
(pemainan) of his during his lifetime. In this respect it is exactly
similar to the shrine of 'Toh Parwi of Pantei in Sungei Ujong, which is
similarly guarded, both shrines having been erected on the seashore,
it is said, in the days when the sea came much farther inland than it
does at present. The fame of 'Toh Kamarong filled the neighbourhood,
and it is related that on one occasion an irate mother exclaimed,
of a son of hers who was remarkable for his vicious habits, "May the
'Toh Kramat Kamarong fly away with him." Next day the boy disappeared,
and all search proved fruitless, until three days later 'Toh Kamarong
appeared to her in a dream, and informed her that he had carried the
boy off, as she had invited him to do, and that if she were to look
for his footprints she would be able to discover them inside the
pad-tracks of a tiger one of whose feet was smaller than the rest,
and which was then haunting the spot. She did so, and discovered her
son's footprints exactly as the saint had foretold. This Ghost-tiger,
which no doubt must be identified with 'Toh Kamarong's "pet," used
to roam the district when I was stationed in the neighbourhood, and
both I and, I believe, the then District Engineer (Mr. Spearing), saw
this tiger's tracks, and can vouch for the fact that one footprint
was smaller than the rest. This curious feature is thought by the
local Malays at least, to be one of the specially distinctive marks
of a rimau kramat, or Ghost-tiger, just as the possession of one tusk
that is smaller than the other is the mark of a Ghost-elephant. [133]
Closely connected with the subject of shrines is that of high places,
such as those spots where religious penance was traditionally
practised. One of these sacred spots is said to have been situated
upon the "Mount Ophir" of Malacca, which is about 4000 feet high,
and on which a certain legendary Princess known as Tuan Putri Gunong
Ledang is said to have dwelt, until she transferred her ghostly court
to Jugra Hill, upon the coast of Selangor. [134]
Such fasting-places are usually, as in Java, either solitary hills or
places which present some great natural peculiarity; even remarkable
trees and rocks being, as has already been pointed out, pressed into
the service of this Malay "natural religion."
(c) Nature of Rites
The main divisions of the magico-religious ceremonies of the Malays
are prayer, sacrifice, lustration, fasting, divination, and possession.
Prayer, which is defined by Professor Tylor as "a request made to a
deity as if he were a man," is still in the unethical stage among
the Malays; no request for anything but personal advantages of a
material character being ever, so far as I am aware, preferred by
the worshipper. The efficacy of prayer is, however, often supposed
to be enhanced by repetition.
"As prayer is a request made to a deity as if he were a man, so
sacrifice is a gift made to a deity as if he were a man.... The ruder
conception that the deity takes and values the offering for itself,
gives place, on the one hand, to the idea of mere homage as expressed
by a gift, and, on the other, to the negative view that the virtue
lies in the worshipper depriving himself of something prized." [135]
A general survey of the charms and ceremonies brought together in
this volume will, I think, be likely to establish the view that the
Malays (in accordance with the reported practice of many other races)
probably commenced with the idea of sacrifice as a simple gift,
and therefrom developed first the idea of ceremonial homage, and
later the idea of sacrifice as an act of abnegation. Evidences of
the original gift-theory chiefly survive in the language of charms,
in which the deity appealed to is repeatedly invited to eat and
drink of the offerings placed before him, as a master may be invited
to eat by his servants. The intermediate stage between the gift and
homage theories is marked by an extensive use of "substitutes," and
of the sacrifice of a part or parts for the whole. Thus we even find
the dough model of a human being actually called "the substitute"
(tukar ganti), and offered up to the spirits upon the sacrificial
tray; in the same sense are the significant directions of a magician,
that "if the spirit craves a human victim a cock may be substituted"
and the custom of hunters who, when they have killed a deer, leave
behind them in the forest small portions of each of the more important
members of the deer's anatomy, as "representatives" of the entire
carcase. In this last case the usual "ritualistic change may be traced
from practical reality to formal ceremony." "The originally valuable
offering is compromised for a smaller tribute or a cheaper substitute,
dwindling at last to a mere trifling token or symbol." [136]
This homage-theory will, I believe, be found to cover by far the
greater bulk of the sacrifices usually offered by Malays, and the idea
of abnegation appears to be practically confined to votal ceremonies
or vows (niat), in which the nature and extent of the offering are not
regulated by custom, but depend entirely upon the wealth or caprice of
the worshipper, there being merely a tacit understanding that he shall
sacrifice something which is of more than nominal value to himself.
Of the manner in which offerings are supposed to be received by the
deity to whom they are offered it is difficult to obtain very much
evidence. I have, however, frequently questioned Malays upon this
subject, and on the whole think it can very safely be said that the
deity is not supposed to touch the solid or material part of the
offering, but only the essential part, whether it be "life, savour,
essence, quality" or even the "soul."
It will perhaps be advisable, in order to avoid repetition, to describe
a few of the special and distinctive sub-rites which form part of
many of the more important ceremonies, such as (in particular), rites
performed at shrines, the rite of burning incense, the scattering of
(or banqueting upon) sacrificial rice, and the application of the
"Neutralising" Rice-paste (tepong tawar).
Of the rites performed at shrines, Mr. Blagden says: "The worship
there, as with most other kramats, consists of the burning of incense,
the offering of nasi kunyet (yellow rice), and the killing of goats;
but I also noticed a number of live pigeons there which illustrate
the practice, common in Buddhist countries, of releasing an animal
in order to gain 'merit' thereby." At a shrine on the Langat river
I have seen fowls which had (I was told) been similarly released.
Mr. Blagden's remarks apply with equal force to the services performed
at the shrines of Selangor, and I believe also of other States. It
should, however, I think, be pointed out that the nasi kunyit (yellow
rice) is, usually at all events, eaten by those who take part in
the service. At a ceremony which was held on one occasion after
my recovery from sickness, and in which, by request, I took part,
[137] incense was burnt, and Muhammadan prayers chanted, after which
the usual strip of white cloth (five cubits in length) was laid upon
the saint's grave (the saint being the father of the present Sultan
of Selangor), and the party then adjourned to a shelter some twenty
or thirty yards lower down the hill, where, first the men, and then
the women and children, partook of the flesh of the slaughtered goat
and the saffron-stained rice (pulut). After the meal the Bilal (mosque
attendant, who was present with the Malay headman and the local priest
of the mosque), returned to the tomb, and making obeisance, recited
a Muhammadan prayer, craving permission to take the cloth back for
his own use, which he presently did. These Bilals are needy men and
live upon the alms of the devout, so I suppose he thought there was
no reason why the saint should not contribute something to his support.
The burning of incense is one of the very simplest, and hence
commonest, forms of burnt sacrifice. Some magicians say that it
should be accompanied by an invocation addressed to the Spirit of
Incense, which should be besought, as in the example quoted below,
to "pervade the seven tiers of earth and sky respectively." It would
appear that the intention of the worshipper is to ensure that his
"sacrifice of sweet savour" should reach the nostrils of the gods
and help to propitiate them, wherever they may be, by means of a
foretaste of offerings to follow. This invocation, however, is not
unfrequently omitted, or at least slurred over by the worshipper, in
spite of the contention of the magicians who use it, that "without
it the spell merely rises like smoke which is blown away by the
wind." The following is one form of the invocation in question:--
Zabur [138] Hijau is your name, O Incense,
Zabur Bajang the name of your Mother,
Zabur Puteh the name of your Fumes,
Scales from the person of God's Apostle [139] were your Origin.
May you fumigate the Seven Tiers of the Earth,
May you fumigate the Seven Tiers of the Sky,
And serve as a summons to all Spirits, to those which have magic
powers, and those which have become Saints of God,
The Spirits of God's elect, who dwell in the Halo of the Sun,
And whose resort is the "Ka`bah" of God,
At even and morn, by night and day;
And serve as a summons to the Elect of God,
Who dwell at the Gate of the Spaces of Heaven,
And whose resort is the White Diamond
In the Interior of Egypt, at morn and eve,
Who know (how) to make the dead branch live,
And the withered blossom unfold its petals,
And to perform the word of God;
By the grace of (the creed) "There is no god but God," etc.
The direction taken by the fumes of the incense is observed and
noted for the purpose of divination; this feature of the rite will
be noticed under the heading of Medicine. [140]
Another form of sacrifice consists in the scattering of rice. The
sacrificial rice (Oryza sativa) used in the ceremonies is always of
the following kinds: firstly, parched rice (b'ras bertih); secondly,
washed rice (b'ras basoh); thirdly, saffron-stained rice (b'ras kunyit,
i.e. rice stained with turmeric); [141] and, finally, a special kind
of glutinous rice called pulut (Oryza glutinosa), which is also very
generally used for sacrificial banquets.
Of these, the parched rice is generally used for strewing the bottom of
the sacrificial tray (anchak) when the framework has been covered with
banana leaves, but the offerings have not yet been deposited within it.
The washed and saffron rice are generally used for scattering either
over the persons to be benefited by the ceremony, or else upon the
ground or house-floor.
With reference to the selection of rice for this purpose, it has been
suggested that the rice is intended to attract what may be called the
"bird-soul" (i.e. the soul of man conceived as a bird) to the spot,
or to keep it from straying at a particularly dangerous moment in
the life of its owner.
The pulut or glutinous rice is the kind of rice generally used for
sacrificial banquets, e.g. for banquets at "high places," etc.
Lustration is generally accomplished either by means of fire or of
water. The best examples of the former are perhaps the fumigation of
infants, and the api saleian or purificatory fire, over which women
are half-roasted when a birth has taken place, but these being special
and distinctive ceremonies, will be described with others of the same
nature in Chapter VI.
One of the forms of lustration by water, however, appears rather to
take the place of a sub-rite, forming an integral portion of a large
class of ceremonies, such as those relating to Building, Fishing,
Agriculture, Marriage, and so forth. Hence it will be necessary to
give a general sketch of its leading features in the present context.
The ceremony of lustration by water, when it takes the form of the
sub-rite referred to, is called "Tepong Tawar," which properly means
"the Neutralising Rice-flour (Water)," "neutralising" being used
almost in a chemical sense, i.e. in the sense of "sterilising" the
active element of poisons, or of destroying the active potentialities
of evil spirits.
The rite itself consists in the application [142] of a thin
paste made by mixing rice-flour with water: this is taken up in a
brush or "bouquet" of leaves and applied to the objects which the
"neutralisation" is intended to protect or neutralise, whether they
be the posts of a house, the projecting ends of a boat's ribs (tajok
p'rahu), the seaward posts of fishing-stakes (puchi kelong), or the
forehead and back of the hands of the bride and bridegroom.
The brush must be first fumigated with incense, then dipped into the
bowl which contains the rice-water, and shaken out almost dry, for if
the water runs down the object to which it is applied it is held to
"portend tears," whereas if it spreads equally all round (benchar)
it is lucky. The composition of the brush, which is considered to be
of the highest importance, appears to vary, but only within certain
limits. It almost invariably, in Selangor, consists of a selection of
leaves from the following plants, which are made up in small bouquets
of five, seven, or nine leaves each, and bound round with ribu-ribu (a
kind of small creeper), or a string of shredded tree bark (daun t'rap).
The following is a list of the leaves generally used:--
1. Leaves of the grass called sambau dara, which is said to be the
symbol of a "settled soul" (`alamat menetapkan semangat), and which
hence always forms the core of the bouquet. [143]
2. The leaves of the selaguri, which appears to be "a shrub or
small tree with yellow flowers (Clerodendron disparifolium, Bl.,
Verbenaceæ; or Sida rhombifolia, L., Malvaceæ, a common small shrub
in open country)," [144] which is described as one of the first of
shrubs (kayu asal), and is said to be used as a "reminder of origin"
(peringatan asal).
3. The leaves of the pulut-pulut (the exact identity of which I have
not yet ascertained, but which may be the Urena lobata, L., one of
the Malvaceae), which is said to be used for the same purpose as
the preceding.
4. The leaves of the gandarusa (Insticia gandarusa, L., Acanthaceæ),
a plant described as "often cultivated and half-wild--a shrub used
in medicine."
The selection of this plant is said to be due to its reputation for
scaring demons (`alamat menghalaukan hantu). So great is its efficacy
supposed to be, that people who have to go out when rain is falling
and the sun shining simultaneously--a most dangerous time to be abroad,
in Malay estimation,--put a sprig of the gandarusa in their belts.
5. The leaves of the gandasuli (which I have not yet been able to
identify, no such name appearing in Ridley's plant-list, but which I
believe to be a water-side plant which I have seen, with a white and
powerfully fragrant flower). [145] It is considered to be a powerful
charm against noxious birth-spirits, such as the Langsuir.
6. The leaves of the sapanggil (which is not yet identified).
7. The leaves of the lenjuang merah, or "the common red dracæna"
(Cordyline terminalis, var. ferrea, Liliaceæ). [146] This shrub is
planted in graveyards, and occasionally at the four corners of the
house, to drive away ghosts and demons.
8. The leaves of the sapenoh (unidentified), a plant with big round
leaves, which is always placed outside the rest of the leaves in
the bunch.
9. To the above list may be perhaps added the satawar, sitawar
or tawar-tawar (Costus speciosus, L., Scitamineæ, and Forrestia,
spp. Commelinaceæ); and
10. The satebal (Fagræa racemosa, Jack., Loganiaceæ).
Leaves of the foregoing plants and shrubs are made up, as has been
said, in small sets or combinations of five, seven, or even perhaps of
nine leaves a piece. These combinations are said to differ according to
the object to which the rice-water is to be applied. It is extremely
unlikely, however, that all magicians should make the same selections
even for the same objects--rather would they be likely to make use of
such leaves on the list as happen to be most readily available. Still,
however, as the only example of such differentiation which I have yet
been able to obtain, I will give the details of three separate and
distinctive combinations, which were described to me by a Selangor
magician:--
(1) For a wedding ceremony sambau dara tied round with a
selaguri string of shredded
pulut-pulut tree-bark.
sapanggil
sapenoh
(2) For blessing gandarusa tied with the
fishing-stakes selaguri creeper ribu-ribu.
sapanggil
lenjuang merah
sapenoh
(3) For the ceremony of lenjuang tied with
taking the rice-soul merah ribu-ribu.
selaguri
pulut-pulut
sapanggil
sapenoh
Further inquiry and the collection of additional material will no
doubt help to elucidate the general principles on which such selections
are made.
Short rhyming charms are very often used as accompaniments of the rite
of rice-water, but appear to be seldom if ever repeated aloud. The
following is a specimen, and others will be found in the Appendix:
[147]--
"Neutralising Rice-paste, true Rice-paste,
And, thirdly, Rice-paste of Kadangsa!
Keep me from sickness, keep me from death,
Keep me from injury and ruin."
Other not less important developments of the idea of lustration by
water are to be found in such ceremonies as the bathing of mother and
child after a birth and the washing of the floor (basoh lantei) upon
similar occasions, the bathing of the sick, of bride and bridegroom
at weddings, of corpses (meruang), [148] and the annual bathing
expeditions (mandi Safar), which are supposed to purify the persons
of the bathers and to protect them from evil (tolak bala).
Fasting, or the performance of religious penance, which is now
but seldom practised, would appear to have been only undertaken in
former days with a definite object in view, such as the production
of the state of mental exaltation which induces ecstatic visions,
the acquisition of supernatural powers (sakti), and so forth.
The fast always took place, of course, in a solitary spot, and not
unfrequently upon the top of some high and solitary hill such as Mount
Ophir (Gunong Ledang), on the borders of Malacca territory. Frequently,
however, much lower hills, or even plains which possessed some
remarkable rock or tree, would be selected for the purpose.
Such fasting, however, did not, as sometimes with us, convey to the
Malays the idea of complete abstinence, as the magicians informed me
that a small modicum of rice contained in a ketupat (which is a small
diamond-shaped rice-receptacle made of plaited cocoa-nut leaf) was the
daily "allowance" of any one who was fasting. The result was that fasts
might be almost indefinitely prolonged, and the thrice-seven-days'
fast of 'Che Utus upon Jugra Hill, on the Selangor coast, [149] is
still one of the traditions of that neighbourhood, whilst in Malay
romances and in Malay tradition this form of religious penance is
frequently represented as continuing for years.
Finally, I would draw attention to the strong vein of Sympathetic
Magic or "make believe" which runs through and leavens the whole
system of Malay superstition. The root-idea of this form of magic
has been said to be the principle that "cause follows from effect."
"One of the principles of sympathetic magic is that any effect may
be produced by imitating it.... If it is wished to kill a person,
an image of him is made and then destroyed; and it is believed that
through a certain physical sympathy between the person and his image,
the man feels the injuries done to the image as if they were done to
his own body, and that when it is destroyed he must simultaneously
perish." [150]
The principle thus described is perhaps the most important of all
those which underlie the "Black Art" of the Malays.
CHAPTER IV
The Malay Pantheon
(a) Gods
A careful investigation of the magic rites and charms used by a
nation which has changed its religion will not unfrequently show,
that what is generally called witchcraft is merely the débris of the
older ritual, condemned by the priests of the newer faith, but yet
stubbornly, though secretly, persisting, through the unconquerable
religious conservatism of the mass of the people.
"There is nothing that clings longer to a race than the religious
faith in which it has been nurtured. Indeed, it is impossible for
any mind that is not thoroughly scientific to cast off entirely the
religious forms of thought in which it has grown to maturity. Hence
in every people that has received the impression of foreign beliefs,
we find that the latter do not expel and supersede the older religion,
but are engrafted on it, blent with it, or overlie it. Observances are
more easily abandoned than ideas, and even when all the external forms
of the alien faith have been put on, and few vestiges of the indigenous
one remain, the latter still retains its vitality in the mind, and
powerfully colours or corrupts the former. The actual religion of a
people is thus of great ethnographic interest, and demands a minute
and searching observation. No other facts relating to rude tribes are
more difficult of ascertainment, or more often elude inquiry." [151]
"The general principle stated by Logan in the passage just quoted
receives remarkable illustration from a close investigation of the
folk-lore and superstitious beliefs of the Malays. Two successive
religious changes have taken place among them, and when we have
succeeded in identifying the vestiges of Brahmanism which underlie
the external forms of the faith of Muhammad, long established in all
Malay kingdoms, we are only half-way through our task."
"There yet remain the powerful influences of the still earlier
indigenous faith to be noted and accounted for. Just as the
Buddhists of Ceylon turn in times of sickness and danger, not to the
consolations offered by the creed of Buddha, but to the propitiation
of the demons feared and reverenced by their early progenitors,
and just as the Burmese and Talaings, though Buddhists, retain in
full force the whole of the Nat superstition, so among the Malays,
in spite of centuries which have passed since the establishment of
an alien worship, the Muhammadan peasant may be found invoking the
protection of Hindu gods against the spirits of evil with which his
primitive faith has peopled all natural objects." [152]
"What was the faith of Malaya seven hundred years ago it is hard to
say, but there is a certain amount of evidence to lead to the belief
that it was a form of Brahmanism, and that, no doubt, had succeeded
the original spirit worship." [153]
The evidence of folk-lore, taken in conjunction with that supplied by
charm-books and romances, goes to show that the greater gods of the
Malay Pantheon, though modified in some respects by Malay ideas, were
really borrowed Hindu divinities, and that only the lesser gods and
spirits are native to the Malay religious system. It is true that some
of these native gods can be with more or less distinctness identified
with the great powers of nature: the King of the Winds (Raja Angin)
for instance; "Mambang Tali Harus," or the god of mid-currents (the
Malay Neptune); the gods of thunder and lightning, of the celestial
bodies, etc.; but none of them appear to have the status of the chief
gods of the Hindu system, and both by land and water the terrible Shiva
("Batara Guru" or "Kala") is supreme. Yet each department of nature,
however small, has its own particular godling or spirit who requires
propitiation, and influences for good or evil every human action. Only
the moral element is wanting to the divine hegemony--the "cockeyed,"
limping substitute which does duty for it reflecting only too
truthfully the character of the people with whom it passes as divine.
I will first take, in detail, the gods of Hindu origin. "Batara (or
Betara) Guru" is "the name by which Siva is known to his worshippers,
who constitute the vast majority of the Balinese, and who probably
constituted the bulk of the old Javanese." [154]
In the magic of the Peninsular Malays we find Vishnu the Preserver,
Brahma the Creator, Batara Guru, Kala, and S'ri simultaneously appealed
to by the Malay magician; and though it would, perhaps, be rash,
(as Mr. Wilkinson says), to infer solely from Malay romances or Malay
theatrical invocations (many of which owe much to Javanese influence),
that Hinduism was the more ancient religion of the Malays, there is
plenty of other evidence to prove that the "Batara Guru" of the Malays
(no less than the Batara Guru of Bali and Java) is none other than
the recognised father of the Hindu Trinity. [155]
Of the greater deities or gods, Batara Guru is unquestionably the
greatest. "In the Hikayat Sang Samba (the Malay version of the
Bhaumakavya), Batara Guru appears as a supreme God, with Brahma and
Vishnu as subordinate deities. It is Batara Guru who alone has the
water of life (ayer utama (atama) jiwa) which brings the slaughtered
heroes to life." [156]
So to this day the Malay magician declares that 'Toh Batara Guru
(under any one of the many corruptions which his name now bears [157])
was "the all-powerful spirit who held the place of Allah before the
advent of Muhammadanism, a spirit so powerful that he could restore
the dead to life; and to him all prayers were addressed."
Mr. Wilkinson, in the article from which we have already quoted,
deals with another point of interest, the expression sang-yang,
or batara, which is prefixed to guru. After pointing out that yang
in this case is not the ordinary Malay pronoun (yang, who), but an
old word meaning a "deity," he remarks, that so far as he has been
able to discover, it is only used of the greater Hindu divinities,
and not of inferior deities or demi-gods. Thus we find it applied to
Shiva and Vishnu, but never to the monkey-god Hanuman, or a deity of
secondary importance like Dermadewa. Such inferior divinities have
only the lesser honorific "sang" prefixed to their names, and in this
respect fare no better than mere mortals (such as Sang Sapurba and
Sang Ranjuna Tapa) and animals (such as, in fables, Sang Kanchil,
Mr. Mousedeer; and Sang Tikus, Mr. Rat).
"The expression batara is also limited to the greater Hindu divinities
(except when used as a royal title), e.g. Batara Guru, Batara Kala,
Batara Indra, Batara Bisnu, etc. Thus the expressions sang-yang and
batara are fairly coincident in their application. [158] But there
are a few deities of whom the honorific sang-yang is used, but not
batara, e.g. sang-yang tunggal, 'the only God,' sang-yang sokma, etc.
"Thus batara would seem to be limited in use to the actual
names of Hindu deities as distinct from epithets describing those
deities. "Batara Guru" would seem to be an exception--the only one--to
this rule, and to point to the fact that the original meaning of
guru had been lost sight of, and that the expression had come to be
regarded only as a proper name."
Occasionally, as is only to be expected, the Malays get mixed in
their mythology, and of this Mr. Wilkinson gives two examples, one
of the identification of Batara Guru (Shiva) with Brahma (Berahmana),
and another of the drawing of a distinction between "Guru" (Shiva) and
"Mahadewa," which latter is only another name for the same divinity.
Such slips are inevitable among an illiterate people, and should
always be criticised by comparison with the original Hindu tenets,
from which these ideas may be presumed to have proceeded.
Mr. Wilkinson quotes an extraordinary genealogy representing, inter
alia, "Guru as the actual father of the Hindu Trinity," and also of
"Sambu" (whom he cannot identify), and "Seri, who is the Hindu Sri,
the goddess of grain, and, therefore, a deity of immense importance
to the old Javanese and Malays."
On this I would only remark that Sambu (or Jambu) is the first portion
of the name almost universally ascribed to the Crocodile-spirit by
the Peninsular Malays. [159]
It would be beyond the scope of this work to attempt the identification
of Batara Guru (Shiva) with all the numerous manifestations and titles
attributed to him by the Malays, but the special manifestation (of
Shiva), which is called "Kala," forms an integral part of the general
conception, whether among the Malays or Hindus, and is, therefore,
deserving of some attention.
The Malay conception of Batara Guru seems to have been that he had
both a good and a bad side to his character. Though he was "Destroyer"
he was also "Restorer-to-life," [160] and it would appear that these
two opposite manifestations of his power tended to develop into two
distinct personalities, a development which apparently was never
entirely consummated. This, however, is not the only difficulty, for
on investigating the limits of the respective spheres of influence
of Batara Guru and Kala, we find that the only sphere, which is
always admitted to be under Kala's influence, is the intermediate
zone between the respective spheres of influence of Batara Guru (as
he is called if on land, "Si Raya" if at sea) and a third divinity,
who goes by the name of "'Toh Panjang Kuku," or "Grandsire Long-Claws."
Now Hindu mythology, we are told, knows next to nothing of the sea,
and any such attempt as this to define the respective boundaries of
sea and land is almost certain to be due to the influence of Malay
ideas. Again, the intermediate zone is not necessarily considered
less dangerous than that of definitely evil influences. Thus the most
dangerous time for children to be abroad is sunset, the hour when we
can "call it neither perfect day nor night"; so too a day of mingled
rain and sunshine is regarded as fraught with peculiar dangers from
evil spirits, and it would be quite in keeping with such ideas that
the intermediate zone, whether between high and low water-mark, or
between the clearing and primeval forest, should be assigned to Kala,
the Destroyer. In which case the expression "Grandsire Long-Claws"
might be used to signify this special manifestation of Shiva on
land, possibly through the personality of the Tiger, just as the
Crocodile-spirit appears to represent Shiva by water. [161]
We thus reach a point of exceptional interest, for hunting, being
among the old Hindus one of the seven deadly sins, was regarded as a
low pursuit, and one which would never be indulged in by a god. Yet I
was repeatedly told when collecting charms about the Spectre Huntsman
that he was a god, and, explicitly, that he was Batara Guru. This
shows the strength of the Malay influences which had been at work,
and which had actually succeeded in corrupting the character, so to
speak, of the supreme god of this borrowed Hindu Trinity. [162]
The Batara Guru of the Sea, who by some magicians, at all events,
is identified with Si Raya (the "Great One"), and, probably wrongly,
with the God of Mid-currents [163] (Mambang Tali Harus), is of a much
milder character than his terrestrial namesake or compeer, and although
sickness may sometimes be ascribed to the sea-spirit's wrath, it is
neither so sudden nor so fatal as the sickness ascribed to the wanton
and unprovoked malice of the Spectre Huntsman, or Spirit of the Land.
Fishermen and seafarers, on the other hand, obtain many a favour
from him, and even hope to make friends with him by means of simple
sacrifices and charms.
Si Raya (or Madu-Raya) is said to have a family, his wife's name
being Madu-ruti, and his children "Wa' Ranai," and "Si Kekas" (the
scratcher), all of whom, however, have their own separate spheres
of influence. The "Great One" himself (Madu-Raya) rules over the sea
from low-water mark (at the river's mouth) out to mid-ocean; and if
his identity with "'Toh Rimpun `Alam" is accepted, [164] his place
of abode is at the navel of the seas, within the central whirlpool
(Pusat Tasek), from the centre of which springs the Magic Tree (Pauh
Janggi), on whose boughs perches the roc (garuda) of fable, and at
whose foot dwells the Gigantic Crab, whose entrance into and exit from
the cave in which he dwells is supposed to cause the displacement of
water which results in the ebb and flow of the tide. [165]
The only other divinities (of the rank of "Mambangs") which are of
any importance are the "White divinity," who dwells in the Sun, the
"Black divinity," who dwells in the Moon, and the "Yellow divinity,"
who dwells in the Yellow Sunset-glow, which latter is always considered
most dangerous to children.
When there is a decided glow at sunset, any one who sees it takes
water into his mouth (di-kemam ayer) and dislodges it in the direction
of the brightness, at the same time throwing ashes (di-sembor dengan
abu) saying:--
Mambang kuning, mambang k'labu,
Pantat kuning di-sembor abu.
This is done "in order to put out the brightness," the reason that
it must be put out being that in the case of any one who is not very
strong (lemah semangat) it causes fever.
(b) Spirits, Demons, and Ghosts
The "Jins" or "Genii," generally speaking, form a very extensive class
of quite subordinate divinities, godlings, or spirits, whose place
in Malay mythology is clearly due, whether directly or indirectly, to
Muhammadan influences, but who may be most conveniently treated here as
affording a sort of connecting link between gods and ghosts. There has,
it would appear, been a strong tendency on the part of the Malays to
identify these imported spirits with the spirits of their older (Hindu)
religion, but the only Genie who really rises to the level of one of
the great Hindu divinities is the Black King of the Genii (Sang Gala
[166] Raja, or Sa-Raja Jin), who appears at times a manifestation
of Shiva Batara Guru, who is confounded with the destructive side of
Shiva, i.e. Kala. This at least would appear to be the only theory on
which we could explain the use of many of the epithets or attributes
assigned to the King of the Genii, who is at one time called "the
one and only God"; at another, "Bentara (i.e. Batara), Guru, the
Genie that was from the beginning," and at another, "the Land Demon,
the Black Batara Guru," etc.
The following is a description of this, the mightiest of the Genii:--
Peace be with you!
Ho, Black Genie with the Black Liver,
Black Heart and Black Lungs,
Black Spleen and tusk-like Teeth,
Scarlet Breast and body-hairs inverted,
And with only a single bone. [167]
So far as can be made out from the meagre evidence obtainable, the
spirit thus described is identifiable with the Black King of Genii,
who dwells in the Heart of the Earth, and whose bride, Sang Gadin
(or Gading), presented him with seven strapping Black Genii as
children. [168]
Altogether there are one hundred and ninety of these
(Black?) Genii--more strictly, perhaps, one hundred and ninety-three,
which coincides curiously with the number of "Mischiefs" (Badi),
which reside in "all living things." The resemblance, I may add,
does not end here; for though the Genii may do good, and the "Badi"
do not, both are considered able to do infinite harm to mortals, and
both make choice of the same kind of dwelling-places, such as hollows
in the hills, solitary patches of primeval forest, dead parasites on
trees, etc. etc.
As to the origin of these Genii, one magician told me that all "Jins"
came from the country "Ban Ujan," which may possibly be Persia; [169]
other magicians, however, variously derive them from the dissolution
of various parts of the anatomy of the great snake "Sakatimuna,"
of the "First Great Failure" to make man's image (at the creation
of man); from the drops of blood which spirted up to heaven when the
first twins, Abel and Cain (in the Malay version Habil and Kabil) bit
their thumbs; from the big cocoa-nut monkey or baboon (berok besar),
and so on.
The theory already mentioned, viz. that the Black King of the Genii
gradually came to be identified with Kala, and later came gradually
to be established as a separate personality, appears to be the only
one which will satisfactorily explain the relations subsisting between
the Black and White Genii, who are on the one hand distinctly declared
to be brothers, whilst the White Genie is in another passage declared
to be Maharaja Dewa or Mahadewa, which latter is, as we have already
seen, a special name of Shiva.
This White Genie is said to have sprung, by one account, from the
blood-drops which fell on the ground when Habil and Kabil bit their
thumbs; by another, from the irises of the snake Sakatimuna's eyes
(benih mata Sakatimuna), and is sometimes confused with the White
Divinity ('Toh Mambang Puteh), who lives in the sun.
The name of his wife is not mentioned, as it is in the case of
the Black Genie, but the names of three of his children have been
preserved, and they are Tanjak Malim Kaya, Pari Lang (lit. kite-like,
i.e. "winged" Skate), and Bintang Sutan (or Star of Sutan). [170]
On the whole, I may say that the White Genie is very seldom mentioned
in comparison with the Black Genie, and that whereas absolutely no
harm, so far as I can find out, is recorded of him, he is, on the
other hand, appealed to for protection by his worshippers.
A very curious subdivision of Genii into Faithful (Jin Islam) and
Infidel (Jin Kafir) is occasionally met with, and it is said, moreover,
that Genii (it is to be hoped orthodox ones) may be sometimes bought
at Mecca from the "Sheikh Jin" (Headman of Genii) at prices varying
from $90 to $100 a piece. [171]
Besides these subdivisions, certain Genii are sometimes specifically
connected with special objects or ideas. Thus there are the Genii
of the royal musical instruments (Jin Nemfiri, or Lempiri, Gendang,
and Naubat), who are sometimes identified with the Genii of the State
(Jin Karaja'an), and the Genii of the Royal Weapons (Jin Sembuana),
both of which classes of Genii are held able to strike men dead. The
only other Genie that I would here specially mention is the Jin
`Afrit (sometimes called Jin Rafrit), from whom the "White Man" (a
designation which is often specially used in the Peninsula as a synonym
for Englishman) is sometimes said to have sprung, but who belongs in
Arabian mythology to a higher class than the mere Genii. Before leaving
the subject of Genii, I must, however, point out the extremely common
juxtaposition of the Arabic word "Jin" and the Malay "Jembalang." From
the frequency with which this juxtaposition occurs, and from the
fact that the two appear to be used largely as convertible terms,
we might expect to find that Jin and Jembalang were mere synonyms,
both applicable to similar classes of spirits. The process is not
quite complete, however, as although the expression Jembalang Tunggal
(the only Jembalang), is found as well as Jin Tunggal, the higher
honorific Sang Raja or Sa-Raja is never, so far as I am aware,
prefixed to the word "Jembalang," though it is frequently prefixed
to "Jin." Of the other members of the Malay hierarchy who owe their
introduction to Muhammadan influences, the only ones of importance
are angels (Mala'ikat), prophets (Nabi), and headmen (Sheikh).
I will take them in this order.
Of the angels, unquestionably the most important are Azrael (`Azra'il
or `Ijrail), Michael (Mika'il), Israfel (Israfil, Ijrafil, or
Serafil), and Gabriel (Jibra'il or 'Jabra'il, often corrupted into
Raja Brahil). There can be no doubt that the foregoing are meant
for the names of a group of four archangels, the name of Israfel
corresponding to Abdiel, who generally occupies the fourth place in
our own angelic hierarchy.
Their customary duties are apportioned among the four great angels
as follows:--
Azrael is, as with us, the angel of death, who "carries off the
lives of all creatures"; Israfel is "lord of all the different airs"
in our body; Michael is the "giver of daily bread"; and Gabriel is
a messenger or "bringer of news."
Sometimes, again, a White Angel (Mala'ikat Puteh) is mentioned,
e.g. as being in "charge of all things in the jungle," but what his
specific duties are in this connection does not transpire.
In an invocation addressed to the Sea-spirit, however, we find four
more such angels mentioned, all of whom hold similar charges:--
Chitar Ali is the angel's name, who is lord of the whirlpool;
Sabur Ali is the angel's name, who is lord of the winds;
Sir Ali is the angel's name, who is lord of the waters of the sea;
Putar Ali is the angel's name, who is lord of the rainbow.
No doubt the names of many more of the subordinate angels might
be collected, as we are repeatedly told that they are forty-four
in number.
Of the prophets (Nabi) there are an indefinite number, the title
being applied to many of the more prominent characters who figure in
our own Old Testament (as well as in the Koran), but who would not
by ourselves be considered to possess any special qualifications for
prophetic office. Among the more famous of these I may mention (after
Muhammad and his immediate compeers) the prophet Solomon (sometimes
considered--no doubt owing to his unrivalled reputation for magical
skill--as the king of the Genii, whose assistance the hunter or
trapper is continually invoking); the prophet David, celebrated for
the beauty of his voice; and the prophet Joseph, celebrated for the
beauty of his countenance. Besides these (and others of the same type),
there is a group of minor prophets whose assistance is continually
invoked in charms; these are the prophet Tap (Tetap or Ketap?),
"lord of the earth;" the prophet Khailir (Khaithir or Khizr), "lord
of water;" the prophet Noah, "lord of trees;" and the prophet Elias,
"planter of trees."
Khizr is often confounded with Elias. He discovered and drank of
the fountain of life (whence his connection with water), and will
consequently not die till the last trump.
Next to the prophets comes the "Sultan" (Sultan), or "King" (Malik),
both of which Arabic titles, however, are somewhat rarely used by Malay
magicians. Still we find such expressions as Sa-Raja (Sang-Raja?) Malik
(King of Kings) applied to Batara Guru.
Next to these royal honorifics comes the title of "Headman" or
"Sheikh."
There are, it is usually stated, four of these Sheikhs who are
"penned" (di-kandang) in the Four Corners of the Earth respectively,
and whose names are `Abdul Kadir, `Abdul Muri, a third whose name is
not mentioned, and `Abdul `Ali. [172]
Sometimes they are called "Sheikh `Alam" (or Si Putar `Alam), and
are each said to reside "within a ring-fence of white iron." Hence
we obtain a perfectly intelligible meaning for the expression, "Ask
pardon of the Four Corners of the World," i.e. of the Sheikhs who
reside therein, though the phrase sounds ridiculous enough without
such explanation.
The only other Arabic title which is perhaps worth noticing here
[173] is that of "Priest" (Imam), which we find somewhat curiously
used in an invocation addressed to the sea-spirit. "Imam An Jalil is
the name of the 'Priest of the Sea.'"
In the invocation addressed to the Sea-spirit we find the expression:--
"Jungle-chief of the World is the name of the Old Man of the Sea."
There can, however, be little doubt that this "Old Man of the Sea"
is a mere synonym for Batara Guru.
A set of expressions to which special reference should perhaps be
made consists of the titles used by the wild jungle tribes (Sakais),
the use of which is important as confirming the principle that the
"Autochthones" are more influential with the spirits residing in their
land than any later arrivals can be, whatever skill the latter may
have acquired in the magic arts of the country from whence they came.
"Abdullah bin Abdul Kadir, Munshi, in his Autobiography, has an
interesting passage on the beliefs of the Malays on the subject of
spirits and demons, beliefs which are much more deeply-rooted than
is generally supposed. He does not, however, differentiate between
national customs and beliefs, and those which have come in with
the Muhammadan religion. And indeed it is not easy to do so. Here,
everything is classed under the generic term sheitan, which is Arabic,
and we find the rakshasa of Hindu romances and the jin and `efrit of
the Arabian Nights in the company of a lot of Indo-Chinese spirits
and goblins, who have not come from the West like the others:--
"I explained to Mr. M. clearly the names of all the sheitan believed
in by Chinese and Malays; all ignorance and folly which have come
down from their ancestors in former times, and exist up to the
present day, much more than I could relate or explain. I merely
enumerated the varieties, such as hantu, sheitan, [174] polong,
[175] pontianak, penanggalan, [176] jin, [177] pelisit, [178]
mambang, [179] hantu pemburu, [180] hantu rimba, jadi-jadian, [181]
hantu bengkus, [182] bota, gargasi, raksaksa, [183] nenek kabayan,
[184] himbasan, [185] sawan, [186] hantu mati di-bunoh, [187]
bajang, [188] katagoran, sempak-kan, puput-kan, [189] `efrit, [190]
jemalang, [191] terkena, [192] ubat guna. [193] Besides all these
there are ever so many ilmu-ilmu (branches of secret knowledge),
all of which I could not remember, such as gagak, [194] penundok,
[195] pengasih, [196] kebal, [197] kasaktian, [198] tuju, [199]
`alimun, [200] penderas, [201] perahuh, [202] chucha, [203] pelali,
[204] perangsang, [205] and a quantity of others. All these are firmly
believed in by the people. Some of these arts have their professors
(guru) from whom instruction may be got. Others have their doctors,
who can say this is such and such a disease, and this is the remedy
for it, and besides these there are all those arts which are able to
cause evil to man. When Mr. M. heard all this he was astonished and
wondered, and said, 'Do you know the stories of all these?' I replied,
'If I were to explain all about them it would fill a large book,
and the contents of the book would be all ignorance and nonsense
without any worth, and sensible persons would not like to listen to
it, they would merely laugh at it.'" [206]
To the foregoing the following list of spirits and ghosts may be added.
The Hantu Kubor (Grave Demons) are the spirits of the dead, who are
believed to prey upon the living whenever they get an opportunity. With
them may be classed the "Hantu orang mati di-bunoh," or "spirits of
murdered men."
"The Hantu Ribut is the storm-fiend that howls in the blast and revels
in the whirlwind." [207]
The Hantu Ayer and Hantu Laut are Water and Sea-spirits, and the
Hantu Bandan is the Spirit of the Waterfall, which "may often be seen
lying prone on the water, with head like an inverted copper (kawah),"
where the water rushes down the fall between the rocks.
The Hantu Longgak [208] is continually looking up in the air. Those
who are attacked by him foam at the mouth.
The Hantu Rimba (Deep-forest Demon), Hantu Raya [209] ("Great"
Demon), Hantu Denei (Demon of Wild-beast-tracks), the Hantu-hantuan
(Echo-spirits), and I think the Hantu Bakal, are all spirits of the
jungle, but are perhaps somewhat less localised than the large class
of spirits (such as the Malacca-cane, gharu, gutta, and camphor-tree
spirits) which are specially associated with particular trees.
The Hantu B'rok is the Baboon Demon (the B'rok being what is generally
called the "cocoa-nut monkey," a sort of big baboon); it is sometimes
supposed to take possession of dancers, and enable them, whilst
unconscious, to perform wonderful climbing feats.
The Hantu Belian, according to many Selangor Malays, is a tiger-spirit
which takes the form of a bird. This bird is said to be not unlike the
raquet-tailed king-crow (chenchawi), and to sit on the tiger's back;
whence it plucks out the tiger's fur and swallows it, never allowing
it to fall to the ground. [210]
The Hantu Songkei [211] is the spirit who so often interferes with
the toils for catching wild animals and snares for wildfowl (yang
kachau jaring dan rachik). He is described as being invisible below
the breast, with a nose of enormous length, and eye-sockets stretched
sideways to such an extent that he can see all round him.
The following charm is recited in order to "neutralise" his evil
influence:--
Peace be with you, grandson of the Spectre Huntsman,
Whose Dwelling-place is a solitary patch of primeval forest,
Whose Chair is the nook between the buttresses (of trees),
Whose Leaning-post the wild Areca-palm,
Whose Roof the (leaves of the) Tukas,
Whose Body-hairs are leaves of the Resam,
Whose Mattress leaves of the Lerek,
Whose Swing the (tree) Medang Jelawei,
And whose Swing-ropes are Malacca-cane-plants
The Gift of His Highness Sultan Berumbongan,
Who dwelt at Pagar Ruyong,
In the House whose posts were heart of the Tree-nettle,
Whose threshold a stem of Spinach,
Strewn over with stems of the Purut-purut,
Whose Body-hairs were inverted,
And whose Breasts were four in number,
To whom belonged the Casting-net for Flies,
And whose drum was "headed" with the skins of lice.
Break not faith with me,
(Or) you shall be killed by the Impact of the Sanctity of the
Four Corners of the World,
Killed by the Impact of the Forty-four Angels,
Killed by the Impact of the Pillar of the Ka`bah,
Killed by the Thrust of the sacred Lump of Iron,
Killed by the Shaft of the Thunderbolt,
Killed by the Pounce of Twilight Lightning,
Killed by the Impact of the Thirty Sections of the Koran,
Killed by the Impact of the Saying, "There is no god but God,"
etc.
Giants are called Bota (Bhuta), Raksasa, and Gargasi (gasi-gasi or
gegasi), or sometimes Hantu Tinggi ("Tall Demons"), the first two of
these names being clearly derivable from a Sanskrit origin.
In addition to those enumerated we may add the various classes of
"good people," such as the Bidadari (or Bediadari) or Peri (fairies
and elves), which are of foreign origin, and the "Orang Bunyian,"
a class of Malay spirits about whom very little seems known. The
latter appear to be a race of good fairies, who are so simple-minded
that they can be very easily cheated. Thus it is always said of them,
that whenever they come into a hamlet, as they may occasionally do,
to buy anything, they always pay without bargaining whatever price
is asked, however exorbitant it may be. I have been told of their
existence at Kapar village (near Klang in Selangor), at Jugra, where
it was said they might formerly be heard paddling their boats upon
the river when no boat was visible, and elsewhere.
Besides these there are several kinds of bloodsucking (vampire) demons,
which are mostly Birth-spirits; and also certain incubi, such as the
Hantu Kopek, which is the Malay equivalent of our own "night-mare."
CHAPTER V
Magic Rites connected with the Several Departments of Nature
(a) Air
1. WIND AND WEATHER CHARMS
Not the least important attribute of the Malay magician in former
days was his power of controlling the weather--a power of which Malay
magic incantations still preserve remarkable traces.
Thus when the wind fails and the sails of a boat are flapping (kalau
layer k'lepek-k'lepek), a Selangor magician would not unfrequently
summon the wind in the following terms:--
"Come hither, Sir, come hither, my Lord,
Let down your locks so long and flowing."
And if the wind is contrary he would say:--
"Veer round, Wind, a needle or twain (of the compass),
A needle to (let me) fetch Kapar. [212]
However heavy the merchandise that I carry unassisted,
Let me repair to Klang for the (morning) meal,
And Langat for the (evening) bathe.
Come hither, Sir, come hither, my Lord,
And let down your locks so long and flowing."
Again, if the wind grew violent he would say:--
"Eggs of the House-lizard, Eggs of the Grass-lizard,
Make a trio with Eggs of the Tortoise.
I plant this pole thus in the mid-stream
(That) Wind and Tempest may come to naught.
Let the White (ones) turn into Chalk,
And the Black (one) into Charcoal. [213]
Sometimes the magician will fasten a rice-spoon (chemcha) [214]
horizontally to the mast of the vessel, and repeat some such charm
as the following:--
"The bird 'Anggau-anggau' flies
To perch on the house of Malim Palita.
May you die as you lean, may you die from a push,
May you die by this 'sending' of 'Prince Rice-spoon's.'" [215]
Of rain-making ceremonies in Selangor there now remains little but
tradition. Yet a Langat Malay told me that if a Malay woman puts
upon her head an inverted [216] earthenware pan (b'langa), and then,
setting it upon the ground, fills it with water and washes the cat
in it until the latter is more than half drowned, heavy rain will
certainly ensue. [217]
On the other hand the recital of the following charm will, it is
believed, effectually stop the heaviest downpour:--
"Though the stem of the Meranti tree [218] rocks to and fro
(in the storm),
Let the Yam leaves be as thick as possible, [219]
That Rain and Tempest may come to naught."
With the foregoing should be classed such charms as are used by the
Malays to dispel the yellow sunset glow. [220]
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-fl
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