A child being tattooed.p.140.
A child being tattooed.p.140.
A child being tattooed.
p.140.
She fulfils with incomparable zeal the functions confided to her by Nature, but as she has, at the same time, to attend to the heavy duties allotted her by man she becomes over-worked and worn-out with excessive fatigue.
When thirty years old she looks almost as old and withered as one of our hard-worked countrywomen does at fifty, and the poor creature cannot in any way conceal this premature falling off because of—the extreme lightness of her attire.
"The tailor tree of our great father Adam" has no leaves for the inhabitants of the jungle, for both male and female only wear a strip of bark (well beaten to render it flexible) wound round the body and fastened on the hips.
That worn by the men never exceeds four inches in breadth, but the women use lists of from six to eight inches wide. Another piece of bark-cloth is passed between the legs and tied, in front and behind, to this belt.
The women, although daughters of the forest, are not without a certain amount of coquetry and will often decorate their girdles with flowers or medicinal and sweet-smelling herbs, but they never think of making a chaste veil of large leaves with which to cover those parts of their persons that ought to be kept secret from the public gaze.
The costume that they are wearing in the photographs was prepared by me in order to present these ochre-coloured Eves to my readers in a more decent state, or rather, a little more in accordance with what civilized society requires, because "to the pure all things are pure" and in my opinion the perfect innocence in which these women go about naked is preferable to that consciousness of their natural form which leads so many of our society ladies and other females, to resort to artificial means that they may deceive their admirers, and gain a name for beauty.
The men, too, are even to be envied, for in the total absence of nether-garments their better-halves can never claim "to wear the trousers" as sometimes happens amongst us.
Necklaces are very much worn by Sakai girls and women. They are made of beads (which are considered the most elegant) serpents' teeth, animals' claws, shells, berries or seeds.
The men, instead, finish off their toilet by loading their wrists with bracelets. These are of brass-wire, bamboo orakar batùwhich it is believed preserves them from the fever.
Their faces are always disfigured by coloured stripes or hieroglyphics.
They have not the custom of wearing rings through their noses but only a little bamboo stick that is supposed to have the virtue of keeping off I don't exactly know what sort of malady or spirit.
The mother bores a hole through the nose cartilage of her child with a porcupine quill and then takes care that the wound heals quickly, without closing. Afterwards she passes through a light piece of this reed.
The same operation is made upon the ears, which from being generally well-shaped, become deformed, as the hole through the lobe has to be very large. It is not sufficient to pierce the tissue with a quill; a little bamboo cane has to be at once inserted; the day after a larger one is substituted and so on until it is possible to hang from the ears pendants made of bamboo and ornamented with flowers, leaves and perhaps even cigarettes.
A strip ofupasbark twisted round the head bestows the finishing touch to the Sakais' toilet. Happy people! They have no tailor's, dressmaker's or milliner's bills to pay!
Footnotes:[10]Gnewould be pronounced in English asneay.Translator's Note.[11]Inchapter XIVspeaking of the superstitions of this people I have mentioned those which refer to the birth of a child and the strange ideas they have concerning this event.
Footnotes:
[10]Gnewould be pronounced in English asneay.Translator's Note.
[10]Gnewould be pronounced in English asneay.Translator's Note.
[11]Inchapter XIVspeaking of the superstitions of this people I have mentioned those which refer to the birth of a child and the strange ideas they have concerning this event.
[11]Inchapter XIVspeaking of the superstitions of this people I have mentioned those which refer to the birth of a child and the strange ideas they have concerning this event.
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A Sakai village—The "elder"—The family—Degrees of relationship—Humorists disoccupied—On the march—Tender hearts—Kindling the fire—A hecatomb of giants—The hut—Household goods and utensils—Work and repose.
A real village, such as we understand it to be, does not exist among the Sakais, but I have been obliged to make use of the word for want of a better one to explain the meaning. Each hut is some hundreds of yards distant from the other so that altogether a village covers an area of from twenty to forty miles. Nearly always the boundaries of village territory are marked by secondary water-courses (the true Sakais never encamp near a navigable river) which give their names to the people living round the shores.
Only the width of a brook or torrent divides two of these settlements that I have called villages, therefore the distance is much less than that lying between the two extremities of a single village.
And yet, beyond being on neighbourly and friendly terms, they have nothing to do with each other, for one Sakai tribe does not like mixing with another and will not recognize any tone of authority, or receive any word of advice unless proceeding from a close relation, and even then it must be given in the form of fatherly counsel or affectionate exhortation otherwise the person to whom it is addressed would probably leave his own people, not to have further annoyance from them, and go to live among his wife's kinsfolk.
The inhabitants of a village are all one family, belonging to the first, second, third and even fourth generation for they are all descended from the same old man, who is called the "Elder" and who is regarded with esteem and consideration by everybody.
It is he who acts as magistrate or arbitrator in any dispute or quarrel (that very rarely takes place) amongst his offspring and the sentence pronounced by him is rigorously respected. It is he, too, who selects the spot for a clearing when, as often happens, the Sakais change their place of encampment, forming their village in quite another part of the forest.
Besides this he has nothing else to do, unless he is still able to work.
The Elders of the various villages are upon a perfect footing of cordiality and never incite to or permit the shedding of blood, or even a conflict between their tribes.
If upon the death of an Elder there happens to be two or more brothers still living the oldest one succeeds him, and should any misunderstanding eventually arise between them, or should the number of those composing the village become too great, the other emigrates to a far off corner of the forest, followed by all the families which are, in a direct line, closely related to him, thus forming the nucleus of a new Sakai village which never exceeds a few hundreds of inhabitants.
In the plains, however, a great many families may be found living together in the same village, sometimes even to three thousand persons.
But it is not here that one is able to study and observe the habits and customs of the genuine Sakais.
Notwithstanding the practice of living in groups, one family isolated from the other, fraternity of race is very profoundly felt and if to-morrow a common danger should be menaced they would all unite like one man to resist and overcome it, besides being always ready to help each other in time of need.
Not many degrees of relationship are recognized by the Sakai.
The male and female children of the same father and mother are considered, as with us, brothers and sisters, but also the sons and daughters of brothers (who among us would only be cousins) are classed the same and call all their uncles "father".
That established for the descendants of females is quite different, and this is natural because the girls of one village marry into another.
The children of a woman are supposed to bear no relationship to those of their mother's brothers and very little attention is paid to that which exists between them and their uncles.
Sisters' children are considered brothers instead of cousins, and the aunts are all called mothers, even when they live in other villages.
The wives of brothers call themselves sisters and are known by the name of "mother" by their nephews and nieces but sisters' husbands have no claim to relationship, other than that of cordial friendship.
Grandchildren give the title of "father" also to their grandfather and great-grandfather and that of "mother"to their grandmother so that these two words which have such a sacred significance to us, to the Sakais are but common appellations.
No tie whatever exists between the parents of the husband and those of the wife and neither between the latter (the father and mother of the wife) and their sons-in-law. They are only upon simple friendly terms.
Humourists who are fond of exercising their wit upon the eternal mother-in-law question would find no ground for their jokes among this people.
The daughter-in-law, on the contrary, recognizes her husband's parents as her own father and mother.
This does not, however, prevent her from still feeling and cherishing a fond affection for those who are nearest to her in blood and who were the authors of her being.
She goes very often to see them and is welcomed with great joy. At parting they give her good wishes and advice.
"Go, follow thy husband!".
"Take care not to fall by the way!".
"Abor!".
"Abor!".
As far as I know there are no other relations acknowledged by the Sakais who dwell on the forest heights, beyond these I have mentioned and even these are reduced to four names: father, mother, sister and brother. It is very difficult, though, to get information about the bonds of kinship.
Judging from the youthful age at which they marry and have children and assuming that the greatest age which they reach is that of 60 years old (a calculation purely by guess as it is impossible to ascertain precisely) it may be said that every village is populated by the second, third, fourth and even fifth generation of the same people.
Lighting a fireA primitive method of lighting a fire.p.147.
A primitive method of lighting a fire.p.147.
A primitive method of lighting a fire.
p.147.
In fact, establishing the date of his first paternity at 16 years old, it is evident that at 32 a Sakai may be a grandfather, at 48 a great-grandfather and at 64 a great-great-grandfather.
The closer and more direct the relationship the stronger is their affection.
The tenderest love that a Sakai can bestow is poured out upon his son, especially when the child is little, but gradually, with the passing of years, and the formation of new families around, the warmth of this attachment somewhat cools down, perhaps because there is no longer any need of his care.
Kind reader, I have introduced you (as best I could) to my good friends of the Malay forest; I have made you know their virtues and their defects, their habits and their family ties and now I should like you to follow with me the little tribe marching from one end of their territory to the other in order to fix upon a new dwelling-place.
The long procession moves along without any order whatever. Everybody carries something that they did not want to leave behind in the abandoned village. The very little children are fastened to their mother's backs, the others caper merrily round the women, and the old people walk slowly on, sometimes leaning on their sticks.
All the men and the youths are armed with their deadly cane and poisoned arrows.
Several dogs—not unlike little setters—escort the company and give the alarm when danger threatens. With them, in friendly intimacy, are monkeys, squirrels and tame wild-boars, while fowls cackle in the dossers where they have been put for fear of being lost in the jungle.
This is an emigrating tribe. Are they then taking a long journey that they are so well provided with food?
Such a supposition would be erroneous. Those fowls, boars, squirrels and monkeys are not a reserve stock of provisions for the travelling Sakais but are their friends and companions, brought up by them with kind care and which are considered as a part of the family.
A Sakai never eats an animal that he has reared; it would seem to him to commit a crime. He uses the fowls, however (which are a trifle smaller than those in Europe) as a means of exchange for tobacco, rice and other articles but he would never eat one himself unless reduced to the verge of starvation.
How different to civilized persons who breed animals and poultry on purpose to devour them, who fatten fowls in coops, cruelly convert cockrels into appetizing capons, peg geese to the ground that their liver may supply an extra dainty for the table and protect the poetic love of pigeons in order to cook their little ones!
Oh, yes! we protect animals, even the birds that fly wild in the woods, we surround them with attention, we make laws in their favour, why? for what? That we may have the pleasure of eating them!
A halt is called. The Elder, assisted by some of the men inspect the site to see if in its vicinity there are any sort of flowers or birds of ill-omen. If any such are discovered the journey is continued but if there are none they begin at once to kindle a fire.
A tree being felledFelling a tree.p.147.
Felling a tree.p.147.
Felling a tree.
p.147.
A little bamboo reed is taken and a hole made in it through which is passed a towy substance found upon palm-trees and known by the name oflulupamong the Malays. Round this reed is wound two or three times a long piece of very flexible Indian cane and he whohas undertaken to light the fire now holds the two ends of the latter, and pressing the bamboo hard with his foot, pulls first one and then the other, sharply and rapidly.
The violent friction soon brings about combustion for the larger reed is heated to such a point that the tow ignites. Leaves and dry grasses are thrown on and the Elder watches the smoke.
If this goes up in a straight column the position is good, otherwise it is not a suitable one.
The decision having been made in this manner, work commences in right earnest and a febrile activity pervades the spot.
The men carefully observe in what direction the trees are inclined, and with a small axe (that cuts into the wood wonderfully well) they begin to chop round the roots of the smaller ones.
This done they attack one of the superb giants of the forest. With primitive, but not for that less practical, ladders made of bamboo, they ascend the tree they mean to fell, and after having planted some stout poles around it they construct an ingenious platform some yards from the ground.
Up there they again make use of their little, but terrible hatchet, which is pointed in shape and marvellously resistant. It is of a moderate size, scarcely measuring 8 inches in length, 4 in breadth and 2 in thickness. Firmly fixed on a pliant bamboo cane the blows given by it have marvellous force.
The Sakais of the mountain obtain this instrument (which is never used by them as a weapon of offence or defence) from their brethren of the plain who, in their turn, get it from the Malays by bartering.
When the preliminary work has been finished the huge tree is attacked (upon one side only) and its wood is soon reduced to chips under the terrific strokes which are repeated in rapid succession.
In the meantime nimble youths climb up the trunk and near the top tie two stout and very long Indian canes, letting the ends dangle to the ground. As soon as the tree gives the slightest sign of vacillation the men hurry down, grasp a rattan upon each side and with all their might, rhythmically and simultaneously, pull the vanquished colossus towards the other trees whose roots have been already recised.
The enormous tree, for a while, seems to withstand all their efforts, then begins to bend and sway, shaking as though seized by a fit of trembling; it totters for a minute or two and at last crashes down with awful violence, in its fall hurling to the ground the nearest ones that have been prepared on purpose, and these in their turn knock down those which are behind.
Everybody has fled to a safe place but are deafened for a time by the loud noise of falling trunks, broken boughs, the crackling of leaves and the snapping asunder of the thick masses of foliage that the creepers have woven amongst the branches. The turmoil is indescribable. Reptiles, birds, squirrels, insects frightened at the unexpected disaster are moving wildly about in search of shelter, filling the air with their cries and buzz.
Through the gap made in the green roof of the forest the sun enters triumphantly and illuminates the prostrate forms of the gigantic victims (lying about like Cyclopses fulminated by the ire of Jupiter) that ever and anon still give convulsive starts at the breaking of some huge bough in under that can no longer bear their tremendous weight.
The opening has been made; it must now be cleared out. The work continues with feverish haste; all take part in it.
A treehouseAn elevated residence.p.149.
An elevated residence.p.149.
An elevated residence.
p.149.
One after the other trees are stripped and maimed and, with miracles of strength and ingenuity, are pushedaway as far as possible in order to make with them a solid and reliable enclosure all round.
Before night comes, in the space thus prepared, rise groups of temporary huts, and large bon-fires burn.
Following the method here described, the Sakais in a few hours succeed in clearing the forest for several miles round.
The next day they begin afresh and go on until the clearing is big enough to contain the number of huts necessary, separated, as is the use, two or three hundred yards each one from the other.
These are immense breaches which are opened in the forest but the latter also is immense and does not suffer from this raid upon its land, the less so because with its amazing power of fecundity it will soon have covered anew with vegetable life the abandoned village of the wandering tribe.
The hut (dop) of the Elder is the centre around which all the others are erected.
To defend themselves against wild beasts and other animals, as well as against the humidity of marshy ground, the Sakais of the plain often build their huts either up a tree or suspended between stout poles.
But on the hills there is no necessity to do this and the rude habitation is constructed on the ground with green branches and leaves, the roof and walls being of such poor consistency that they do not afford the very least protection. Wild beasts, as a rule, never venture into open spaces and besides are kept afar by the glare of the fires but the inclemency of the climate on those heights would render a more substantial residence desirable for comfort.
There is no furniture or other sort of household goods in the Sakai'sdop. His bed consists of dry leavesand the same bark they use for their waist-cloths, strewn upon the ground. Some of them possess a coverlet, worth only a few pence, but for which the poor creatures have paid its weight in gold by means of articles given in exchange. The majority have not even this.
The hearth is placed in the middle of the hut and is made of four pieces of wood surrounding and closing in a heap of earth.
Three stones placed upon this serve to sustain the cooking-pot.
As I have said, they have no tables, chairs, stools or cupboards, and also the inventory of their kitchen utensils is very short: one or two earthen-ware pots (when they have not these they use bamboo canes for cooking), a couple of roughly-made knives, a few basins composed of cocoanut shells, and some bamboo receptacles which officiate as bucket, bottle and glass. The ladle with which they distribute their food is also of cocoanut shell.
Their plates are... banana or other leaves, adapted for the purpose, that are thrown away after they have finished eating.
At the top of the hut are hung the blow-pipes, and well-filled quivers. They are kept there for a little heat to reach them, this being considered essential to the efficacy of the poisons.
Above these, twined amongst the green, are preserved strips of bark for a change of... dress when required, together with the Sakais' musical instruments which are never forgotten.
A tree-hutA tree-hut.p.149.
A tree-hut.p.149.
A tree-hut.
p.149.
Such total poverty of shelter and chattels I think must be explained as cause and effect of the nomadic life these people live (although I should not know how to define the former from the latter) as well as the result of their indolence and the excessive simplicity of their wants.
If once the continual migrations, from one point of the forest to the other, could be prevented the huts would certainly be improved both in construction and adornment.
Round the hut a piece of ground is prepared for the cultivation of potatoes, yams and maize, but the harvest is very scanty, and the whole is frequently destroyed by the visit of asladan. Here, too, the good-wife devotes a part of her time to fowl-breeding.
She, like all the Sakais, sleeps at her pleasure in the morning. As soon as she gets up, with the help of her daughters she prepares the morning meal and serves it out as she thinks proper without the slightest remark being heard as to the quality or quantity of the food given to each.
After breakfast every one goes about their own business; the men shooting, searching for poisons, or setting traps; the women and girls gathering tubers, bulbs and mushrooms, or catching insects, lizards and frogs, whilst the old people no longer able to go to the forest remain behind chewing tobacco orsirihand looking after the children.
Sunrise and sunset keep each other company!
Towards noon all who can, return to the village, those who cannot, after having eaten in the forest, squat themselves on the ground to rest. It is the solemn hour of silence and repose, observed by man and beast.
Only when the sun, from being right overhead, has begun to decline westward is the interrupted work or march resumed. At the first sign of twilight, which is very brief, the Sakais may be seen hastening back to their huts, on their return from labour or from other villages, where an abundant meal and ineffable peace awaits them.
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Intellectual development—Sakais of the plain and Sakais of the hills—Laziness and intelligence—Falsehood and the Evil Spirit—The Sakai language—When the "Orang Putei" gets angry—Counting time—Novel calendars—Moral gifts.
Intellectual development amongst the Sakais of the hills is very limited and as a consequence requires little or no study but much more is to be met with amongst those of the plain for two reasons which I have already explained: one their traffic and consequent intercourse with more civilized races; and the other the mixture of blood from their parents' concubinage with strangers, thus destroying the purity of their own. After the establishment of the British Protectorate and the abolition of slavery in the Federated Malay States the Sakai men and women returned to their native places, the latter taking with them the children born of their masters and the former entered into business relations with their quondam owners by the exchange of forest products for trifles of little or no value.
This explains why in the tribes dwelling on the plains we meet with certain cunning and malicious intents which are in strange contrast with their primitive ingenuity and sincerity. But although in comparison to their brethren of the mountains they might and do pass for artful, they themselves are continually cheated and deceived by their more skilful neighbours who barter inferior qualities of tobacco, iron, calico and other trash, worth nothing, for real treasures in rattan, cane, rubber, poisons, fruit and fishing gear which the Sakai of the plain is very clever in making.
Notwithstanding this sharpening of their intellect due to sojourn amongst their more astute neighbours or to the inheritance of insincerity, theirs by birth when born in exile, they are not yet capable of understanding what profit they might make by exciting competition between their covetous barterers, and the latter, each one for self-interest, are very careful not to open the eyes of those who are so ready to let themselves be cheated. Moreover, the ill-treatment to which they were once subjected, and the imperfect knowledge they still have of what the British Protectorate means, renders them timid and too much afraid of these rapacious merchants to dare resent, in any way, the prepotence which damages them.
In spite of the corruption which has infected them from their companionship or relationship with corrupted people the Sakai of the plain still preserves some of his original goodness and uprightness. Only too well it may be said that once he has rid himself of these moral encumbrances which leave him defenceless in the hands of the unscrupulous he will have taken a new step towards civilization but there will be two virtues the less in his spiritual patrimony.
The Sakai who has taken refuge in the hilly part of the forest in order to escape from the influences of Civilization which may now be said to beset him on all sides, still preserves and defends the original purity of his race.
His intellectual development is inferior to that of his brother living in the plain because he keeps himself alien to everything that might effect his physical laziness and the utter inertia of his brain.
He lives because the forest gives him abundant food, and he lives idly, immersed in innumerable superstitions thatAlà(the sorcerer) enjoins him to always preserve intact.
If, quite suddenly, a change should come in the life and conditions of these Sakais they would never be able to adapt themselves to a different regime until after extreme suffering and sacrifice had strewn the new path with many victims.
And yet, in spite of all, I believe him to be endowed with a fair amount of intelligence, dormant for the present, but susceptible of development when once awakened and with great patience he has, by slow degrees (almost imperceptibly) been taught to overcome his strange fears and to lose those curious ideas concerning life which the old forest philosopher revealed to me.
I say "almost imperceptibly"—as for some years I have been doing myself—that no suspicions may be raised and thatAlàmay have no cause to rebel against the introduction of modern sentiments by outsiders who insinuate themselves into the tribe, persons whom he does not view with benevolent eyes, especially if they are white. This sort of priest obstinately opposes every element of progress and obliges his people to do the same.
A group of SakaiPreparing the supper.p.151.
Preparing the supper.p.151.
Preparing the supper.
p.151.
I have my reasons for believing in the latent intelligence of the mountain Sakai as I have noticed in him a great facility in imitating sounds, movements and even the way of doing things and also of learning and remembering what he has been taught or has seen. I have perceived in him, too, a pronounced rectitude of judgment and a remarkable sharpness of observation when his superstitious terrors do not throw a veil over his mind.
But he is incorrigibly lazy and will not engage in any kind of work that requires fatigue unless it be by his own spontaneous will. The spirit of independence within him is so profound and indomitable as to induce him perhaps to renounce a benefit to himself for fear of obtaining it through satisfying the desire of another.
He is also very touchy; a harsh word or an impatient gesture is enough to offend him.
In compensation he is hospitable, generous, sincere and averse to falseness and intrigue. If sometimes he tells a lie he does so from the dread of an imaginary or possible evil which might otherwise befall him or his, as for instance when somebody he does not know asks his name or seeks information about his place of abode. In such a case the Sakai, with something like childish impudence, will give a fictitious name or information quite contrary to the truth because he is convinced that every stranger brings with him an evil spirit to let loose upon the person or place he seeks, and that by not saying the truth he tricks both the man and the spirit that cannot injure him as he is not the person declared.
As can be seen, this their way of reasoning does not lack a certain ingenuity which leads one to think that the poor things' brains might be educated to more agility in thinking and understanding.
Unfortunately the means are very scarce for making new impressions upon the grey matter enclosed in thebony case of their thoughtless pates. The first difficulty to be met with is the incredible poverty of their language which impedes the communication and development of an idea.
I endeavour to remedy this deficiency by employing English words and phrases because this is the official language in the Protected Malay States, and the British Government wishes to make it popular.
The Sakais catch the meaning and make use of the terms the same as they often learn a word in Italian or Genoese that I sometimes utter when speaking to myself.
I remember well, one day, that in a moment of irritation about something that did not go right, I exclaimed "Sacramento" (I apologize to those who know what a naughty word it is).
My little servant boy who was present looked at me frightened, then began to cry and darted away as if mad, although he had nothing to do with my bad temper.
Well, what do you think? Now it has passed amongst the Sakai boys that when theOrang Puteigets angry he says "Sacramento!". And they repeat the oath with all the emphasis and air of a trooper, yet I had not taught them it nor should I have wished them to learn the exclamation.
The Sakai language is, as I have said, very poor indeed, so much so that it is impossible to form a long phrase or keep up the most simple conversation because there are no means of connecting the various words one with the other.
An idea is expressed by a single word or perhaps by three or four together so that it requires a great deal of practice, attention and also a special study of the mimicry which accompanies and explains these terse vocal sounds, to enable one to follow out the thought.
A group of Sakai boysA group of Bretak boys.p.156.
A group of Bretak boys.p.156.
A group of Bretak boys.
p.156.
Their vocabulary is soon exhausted for it is composed only of those words which are strictly necessary to make known their daily wants, the necessity of defence and their superstitious feelings. They refuse to adopt any of those expressions that their brethren of the plain have learnt from other races, considering them as impure and perilous as the people themselves. This is an implacable application of the maxim "timeo danaos et dona ferentes" by folks who do not understand Latin and who ignore the existence of the Greeks but who know thoroughly well their stranger neighbours.
It is therefore vain to seek among the Sakais those poetical metaphors and that flowery, figurative style of speech which is attributed by us to all Orientals without distinction.
I am not a student or professor of glottology, contenting myself with being able to speak one or two languages without troubling my head over their origin, so I dare not judge upon the affinity more or less remote of the not too sweet Sakai idioms with others, but there seemed to me such a marked difference between the Malay and Sakai phraseologies that I should have declared them to be absolutely distinct one from the other.
However, the recent studies of the German, W. Schmidt, and the more profound ones of the Italian, A. Trombetti, have proved that all the tongues spoken by the inhabitants of the Malay Peninsula as well as those to be heard in the neighbouring isles are in connection with each other.
The most part of the words used by the Sakais are of only one syllable, polysyllables being very rare, and the way in which these accents are shot out from the lips would make a foreigner decide at once that the best method of translating their talk would be by a volley of shots.
For the curious and the studious I have here added a short list of the words commonly used amongst the Sakais but as their language is totally exempt from every rule of orthography I have tried as well as I can to give a phonetic interpretation of the same.
This poor language that seems to be composed of short coughs does not even lose its roughness in song, if I may so term the musical (?) sounds that proceed from the Sakais' mouths, because real songs they have none. They are accustomed, however, to improvise something of the sort in which they always allude to facts of the day but as there is nobody to collect these fragments of extemporaneous ballads they disappear from the world of memories as quickly as they have been put together.
It is for this that all my endeavours have been in vain to find amongst them some song transmitted from father to son which by referring to an event more or less remote might serve as a clue to the legends or history of this mysterious people. But nothing of the kind exists and not even in talking can they narrateanything farther, back than three or four generations. They could not tell you if the sun and the forest were in existence before their great-grandfather lived. One cannot wonder much at this, though, when it is known that these poor inhabitants of the wildest parts of the jungle can scarcely reckon beyond three and have no means of counting time.
With them the first three numbers are not followed by a series of others which always increase by one but fromneer(three) it is rare that they pass toneer nahnò(three one) jumping instead toneer neer(three three), and by this addition they express number six. They use the wordsneer neer nahnòfor seven and then jump again toneer neer neerwhich means nine.
When a birth, a death or any other event takes place which requires the exact period of seven days for the accomplishment of certain ceremonies according to their habit, the Sakai takes a strip of reed or rattan (splitting it into parts to make it flexible) with which he ties two groups of three knots each and a single one apart. Every day he undoes one of these knots and so knows when the time prescribed is finished.
If you ask him whether it would not be better for him to learn to count at least as far as seven, a number that for one thing or another is frequently necessary in his life, he answers you invariably:
"We know nothing. Our fathers did so and we too will do the same without being too fantastical".
Thus we see that the saying: "My father did so", may be an inveterate enemy of arithmetic whilst it establishes a close relationship between those who in civilized society put it into practice and the savages dwelling on the heights of Perak.
The Sakai renounces all attempts at counting more than nine, and his total abstention from commercial persuits permits him to spare his brain this fatigue.