Colonel Diguet relates a case of indirect envoûtement which he observed among the Man.

If a native has a serious complaint against another he commits the cause of action to paper, or rather the native equivalent of paper, along with the name of the accused and his village. He then rolls this up into a ball and thrusts it down the mouth of a goat, which he afterwards suspends by bands from the branches of a tree. He then beats the unfortunate creature with a cane, not without many apologies for the evil treatment which circumstances compel him to mete out. One by one he recites to the animal the matters of which he complains and begs it to plead his cause with the Spirits. To ensure a proper zeal on the part of the advocate he enumerates a series of torments which await it in the next world should it fail in its mission. He then departs in the sure and certain hope that his prayers, and especially his threats, will have the desired effect. The unhappy goat is then left to die of starvation.

It will be remembered that from the most ancient times the ceremony which has for its object the expulsion of a disease from an individual, or the transference of that disease from his body to that of another, is effected by means of an intermediary, generally a goat, which has come to be known as the "scapegoat" by reason of the part it plays on these occasions. He who performs the ceremony is supposed to have lodged in the body of the animal the evil thing which he wishes to expel or transfer. The comparison of this practice which, as I have said, dates from a remote antiquity, with the curious proceedings among the Man of which Colonel Diguet speaks is thus very striking.

The practice of direct envoûtement is also met with among the Man. It takes the form of making an image in rice-paper of your enemy and piercing it with arrows or spears.

Something very similar was practised in the Middle Ages, for there is hardly a museum of archæology or ethnography which has no show-case of small figures transfixed with nails, especially in the region of the heart.

The museum of Tervueren in Belgium is peculiarly rich in specimens of this kind, most of which were collected by the ethnographical expedition sent out from England to the Congo in 1907, under the direction of Mr. E. Torday, of the Anthropological Institute of Great Britain and Ireland. The method of investigation followed by the explorers is worthy of note, for the leader, thanks to his unrivalled knowledge of the dialects, was enabled to dispense with the services of an interpreter. The information which the natives willingly supplied as to their rites and superstitions has thus come to us unadulterated by translation, since it was immediately transmitted to Mr. T. A. Joyce, the Honorary Secretary of the Institute in England, who forwarded a series of supplementary questions to Mr. Torday when a point seemed to require further elucidation. Mr. M. W. Hilton Simpson, and the artist, Norman H. Hardy, were also members of this mission, of which the results were such as to deserve special mention.

The expulsion or transference of evil spirits is not always effected by indirect means such as that of the scapegoat. In the majority of cases the method followed is the direct one of exorcism. The rites of exorcism vary greatly according to the beliefs and traditions of the different tribes. It is generally accompanied by flagellation, which has for its object to purify the voluntary victim from the stain of sin. The Spirit which torments him, finding that the repeated blows make his habitation untenantable, resolves to evacuate the place. It is plain that this is the true and original purpose of this chastisement and that the idea of purification by pain only crept in later.

Like all peoples in an early stage of civilization the Moï attribute disease and even death not to any natural cause but to the presence of malevolent spirits, the "Pi." All efforts must then be concentrated on persuading the harmful intruder to depart, if not by bribes then by threats. If the illness seems likely to terminate fatally, the Sorceress is called on to expel the evil spirit by incantations and sacrifices. This ceremony has many features of note, and I witnessed it on several occasions in spite of the inveterate reluctance of the Moï to allow us to take any part in their public life.

The Sorceress is a priestess who enters the house of the dying person clad only in a full, white loin-cloth. A rough plank serves for an altar and on it she places a bowl of rice and six small candles, which she lights. Then to the accompaniment of a series of peculiar writhing movements she chants a litany, which gets quicker and quicker as the candles get smaller. Her contortions also become more rapid and violent and in the end she is seized with a fit of hysterics, which signifies the frantic struggles of the "Pi" before they yield to the power of the incantation. All at once her movements cease and she commences to indicate the hour in which the cure will take place. This is done after consultation with the Spirits, during which she takes the rice out of the bowl at the rate of three grains at a time. Then she takes a mouthful of water, which she returns over the patient's body in driblets while she presses his stomach as if she were attempting to squeeze the life out of something. Just as the last of the candles is on the point of going out she utters a cry of triumph and holds up a stone of about the size of a nut before the eyes of her astonished and admiring audience.

The cause of the malady has gone! The "Pi" have departed, leaving this trophy of victory to the conqueror who seems so exhausted by her efforts that several gourds of spirits of rice are necessary to restore her strength.

It sometimes happens that the patient takes a good turn after this ceremony, either as a reward for faith or else by pure coincidence. But if the reverse occurs and the patient dies shortly after the exorcism, the unfortunate result is attributed solely to the parsimony and ingratitude of the deceased, whose offerings were not deemed sufficient by the Spirits.

As I have said, the method of exorcism varies with different groups. For instance, it takes the following form among the Tho of Tonkin. The priest addresses himself to the Chicken Devil who is in possession of the patient, first inviting him to take the food which has been prepared for him and extending the invitation to all the Chicken Devils of the five cardinal points. (Throughout the Far East the centre of the earth is regarded as a fifth cardinal point.) He then throws two coins into a cup of rice and calls on the Male Element and the Female Element to make the first come up heads and the second tails. Whether the operation succeeds or not the Sorcerer then lights several sticks of eagle-wood, pours some spirits of rice into a cup, and addresses all the Chicken Devils in the following words:

The Chicken Demons, however, are slow to take the hint, for the patient's condition shows no sign of improvement. The spokesman betrays no sign of annoyance at this obstinacy, but his tone changes from one of studious moderation and politeness to one of command.

He continues:

His speech now becomes more rapid and his gestures more agitated.

By this time the speech-maker is quite out of breath and can do no more than ring his bells, while his companions rouse the whole neighbourhood with their gongs and tom-toms. This ear-shattering symphony is intended to imitate the titanic contest which now takes place between the Chicken Devils and the sacred animals, who finally rout their enemies and drive them away in confusion.

In Babylon also, exorcism was practised in cases of illness, which was invariably attributed to the flight of the soul and the possession of the body by a demon. The first step was to interrogate the patient so that the priest should know for what reason his soul had abandoned him. The patient related all his acts and the priest enumerated all the sins he might have committed. The list of sins is interesting to anyone familiar with ancient civilizations.

There were the usual transgressions against oneself and one's neighbour, adultery, murder, theft, injustice, but there were also sins against the code of commercial morality. To judge by the number of these last, offences against good faith such as the use of fraudulent balances and false money were extremely common.

Analogous lists of forbidden sins have been found in some of the Egyptian tombs.

It is to be noticed that the divinities of primitive groups are thought to punish only those crimes which touch their own dignity and worship. They take no account of offences which cause no loss to themselves. When the group advances along the path of progress we find that their gods are supposed to be angry at any act which may be prejudicial to the interests of the whole community. We also find that their vengeance consists of withdrawing their magic protection from the delinquent. It seems plain, therefore, that in the earlier period religion is considered as a thing apart from morals, while in the later the two conceptions blend and intermingle. This would certainly support the theory that law has grown up from ancient prohibitions which in origin were no more than ritual.

The apparatus of the Moï sorcerers and sorceresses is simple and scanty. No special clothing is worn, consisting as it does of bands of coarse cloth, perhaps two inches wide, which they strap over their shoulders and about their loins much like rustic braces. The mountaineers of Tonkin, whose rites are more complicated, have more elaborate ceremonies.

Among the Man-Tien, for example, the sorcerer-priests wear a most remarkable costume when they perform their sacerdotal functions. It consists of an apron of unbleached cloth, a kind of embroidered bandolier, and a head-dress resembling the helmet of a French cuirassier and made of a framework of bamboo covered with a piece of cloth dyed indigo blue.

The accessories to ritual ceremonies are generally the following:

A short cane of wood with a veneer of red lacquer and prismatic in shape.

A sword made of coins threaded together in such a way as to cause a jangle whenever it is moved.

Some seals to resemble those which are found on the books of magic to demonstrate their authenticity in the next world.

A number of images on cloth or paper with which the Sorcerer adorns the house of the person who has invited his assistance.

In every place and among all tribes no ceremony takes place without the harsh discord of incidental music made by gongs, tom-toms and cymbals.

It would not be fair to leave this topic without paying my tribute to the extreme fervour and conviction which are displayed by all who take part in these ceremonies. On the various occasions on which I was a witness I was always impressed with the fact that a belief based on faith only is entitled to respect, and I hesitate to regard as mere superstition anything which seems incomprehensible to me. Even in Brittany there are many sanctuaries where rites are practised which have in view the expulsion of evil, and Doctor Hébert has made a detailed report of an occurrence, one of thousands, which took place at the celebrated sanctuary of Saint Goulien at the Point du Raz. Here believers resort in immense numbers in the belief that they can obtain a cure for neuralgia by having the little bell (which was used by the saint to summon the catechumens) placed on their heads by the sacristan, who then rings it furiously. The sound of this bell is supposed to drive away the malady and restore the patient to health. If the desired effect is not produced, the failure is attributed to the pilgrim's want of faith or else to the sins which still hamper his soul. He must therefore purify himself and entrust his recovery to one of the innumerable saints whose sanctuaries are scattered throughout this region. At the worst he has had a pleasant tour in one of the most curious and interesting parts of France, an event which contains in itself some elements of a cure.

CHAPTER VIII
BELIEFS AND RITES (continued)

All students of primitive man have observed that egoism is one of his most prominent characteristics. Hence it is not difficult to believe that the extravagant attention he pays to the dead is due not so much to any sentiment of reverence as to the necessity of looking after his own interests.

Among primitive races the general idea is that after death man has exactly the same feelings and necessities as during life. Accordingly, his spirit will have to seek food for itself if the living fail to provide it, and this will always be the case where the deceased has been buried without the proper funeral rites. The dead man must then take by force what has been denied him. In this way many common thefts are accounted for. The loss to the owner is a vivid reminder that he has been neglecting his duties and a warning that further disaster will overtake him unless he mends his ways for the future. The fact is that the spirit has not yet been received into the society of the dead because the deceased has not yet been officially buried, and, on the other hand, he has ceased to belong to the company of the living. In this painful and anomalous position he conceives a great hatred of those who are responsible for it and wages war on them.

The folklore of all countries shows traces of this belief. In every country the most fearsome ghosts are the spirits of those who have died a violent death, for example by fire or drowning.

At a later stage, fear of the vengeance of the dead is a less powerful motive to the living than the hope of obtaining favours from those who regard their late companions with a feeling of gratitude, a feeling which the departed spirit manifests by granting his protection to the living and interceding for them with the gods.

In Egypt the development of this last idea coincides with the inception of the practice of building the immense tombs in which we find innumerable inscriptions detailing the end in view.

From that time forward the living believed that material prosperity on earth was a reward for their devotion to the departed, and they spared no pains to make them as comfortable as possible in the life beyond. We have abundant proof of this in the objects found in the tombs. Nothing that could conduce to the well-being of the deceased has been omitted. He was supplied not only with all the luxuries to which he was accustomed in life, but also with companions of both sexes, attendants, slaves, and even women of the harem. As these persons were unable to enter the abode of the Spirits, they were ruthlessly sacrificed in order that their double might rejoin their master and be at his service in the new existence. This idea of the necessity of a change of state before entering the spirit world was so fundamental that even the domestic utensils destined to the service of the deceased were broken to signify a symbolic death.

In Egypt also, as in many other countries at a similar stage of development, we find the practice of offering up sacrifices of animals and fruits which were intended as nourishment for the dead. By degrees the sacrifice is replaced by a symbol, and finally gives way to the mere recital of a set formula, which is considered to have as much validity as the original ceremony. This seems obvious from the fact that at this later period a word or a look was reputed to have special magic powers. Thus eyes are painted on the sides of the coffins to ward off malevolent spirits, and even to-day no Chinese junk that sails the seas is without an enormous eye painted on each side of the prow to protect it from the attack of the Dragon.

There are some names which no man may utter, such is the magical power attributed to them. In Egypt, for example, even the gods themselves refrained from pronouncing the dread words "Ra" or "Osiris."

Our knowledge of ancestor-worship in Egypt is singularly full, thanks to a century of archæological research, and we should be fortunate if even half the efforts had been expended on investigating the same phenomenon in the Far East. In the circumstances it is impossible to advance any conclusions as final, though it is certain that ancestor-worship throughout the Far East plays a part, the importance of which it is difficult to overestimate. Indeed, it is not too much to say that in all probability it has been the basis of most of the religions to be met with in this region. At the moment ethnologists are in doubt as to the exact nature and extent of the native belief in the physical needs of the dead. They have not even settled on the precise location of the spirit world, nor on the amount of influence exercised by the dead over the acts of the living. It has been established beyond dispute, however, that certain funeral rites in the Far East are based upon the same conceptions as those we have seen obtaining in the West.

Thus, for example, we find food and domestic utensils left in the tombs for the use of the deceased, and the same fear of being deprived of proper burial. What further proof could be required that man is regarded as possessing a double personality and that the soul is not deprived of physical needs by its separation from the body?

Even in the details of the burial ceremonies in Indo-China we find striking resemblances to those with which we are familiar in civilizations now vanished. The sacrifice made in honour of the deceased, and obviously with the end of furnishing him with the means of existence in his new life, is still observed by the Moï in a manner almost identical with that which prevailed in the land of the Pharaohs.

The Egyptian sacrifice was attended by the following circumstances.

The animal was first caught with the lasso, a method which does not imply that it was wild, for at that period the herds were allowed to roam at large, and even domestic animals had to be taken in this fashion. The victim was secured by an approved method and its carotid artery severed, invariably in the same manner and with the same instrument. The blood which flowed from the wound was carefully collected in a jar which an assistant then handed to the "Sounou" (doctor) with these words:

"Taste this blood."

The Sounou wetted his lips with it and answered:

"It is pure."

This tasting of the blood was necessary to demonstrate that the beast had been well chosen. Finally the animal was cut in pieces, beginning at the thigh, which was considered the choicest part, and to crown the occasion its lungs and intestines were removed.

I myself can bear witness, after seeing many similar ceremonies observed by the Moï during their festival of the Commemoration of the Dead, that the proceedings show no substantial variation from those I have just recounted. The fifty centuries which have intervened might as well be fifty days, so perfect is the resemblance.

All religions afford many illustrations of the ability of certain rites to defy the hand of time. Among the ethnographical collections in the British Museum are a large number of instruments of stone used for the purpose of sacrifice by peoples who had long since abandoned stone as a material for all other weapons.

The great festival of the Commemoration of the Dead is celebrated by the Moï in June of every year, in a manner which varies little in the different tribes. I was always invited on these occasions and never failed to attend, for the occasion is one of the highest interest.

The previous eight days are spent by the women and children in collecting bamboos on which to hang garlands of leaves and flowers. At intervals tall poles are erected from which various trophies are suspended, and the whole village exchanges its usual dirt and squalor for an appearance of irresponsible gaiety. The thatched roofs of the huts are the only sombre note in the variegated colour-scheme. The small canals which intersect the plain seem to be engaged in a perpetual chase and in the distance the lofty Annamite chain rears its proud head as if to shut off this smiling land from the rest of the world.

As soon as the day breaks every family rises and proceeds in Indian file along the high banks guarding the ricefields to the family tomb, where the loved dead are resting. The sepulchre is a small building not unlike a hut from a distance, but distinguished from it by the line of the roof, which is curved instead of straight, a peculiarity which produces the form of a pagoda. The relatives renew the thatch of the tomb where necessary, sweep the floor with the most elaborate care and replenish the store of victuals with fresh supplies. A few prayers are uttered and then they continue in silence to the place of sacrifice. This is a vast clearing on which several lofty poles have been erected. Securely tied to the foot of each pole is a young buffalo, selected by the warriors from the tribal herd. The number of victims to be sacrificed is determined by the number of males who have died in the previous year, the loss of females being reckoned, with true oriental gallantry, as a matter of no moment.

The moment the sun appears from behind the curtain of mountains four assistants drag one of the clumsy beasts to the ground in such a way as to expose its throat to the priestly executioner, a man of great size, who promptly thrusts in a long, shining blade. The blood spurts into a wide-necked copper jar, produced for the occasion. The sword flashes once more and a groan escapes from the victim in its death agony. The great body oscillates and falls to the ground with a thud. The ceremony is consummated. One of the assistants now dips a small broom in the jar and takes up some of the blood, and the members of the family gather round the carcase. The women crouch on the ground with their hands before their faces and utter hollow groans. The dead beast is now covered with the clothing of the deceased, consisting of the cloak, the skirt, a pipe, or some other object he has cherished in life. The Sorcerer in the role of High Priest advances and commences to recite the virtues of the dead hero in a hollow voice.

"He was strong."

"Strong," repeat the company in chorus.

"His arrow was both swift and sure."

"Swift and sure," comes the echo.

Each time the Sorcerer's words are repeated a terrific bang on a gong makes the distant mountains ring. The litany proceeds until the catalogue of the great departed's deeds is complete.

This ceremony recurs without variation until all the victims have perished.

The first time I witnessed such a scene no less than nine animals were sacrificed, though the village boasted of only twenty-five families.

When the last rite has been accomplished the assistants drag away the carcases and proceed to the distribution of the haunches and intestines, after which the remains are hoisted to poles adorned with garlands. The horns are severed from the base of the skull and suspended from the sacrificial post until the same ceremony in the next year.

The only variation I have ever been able to discover on these occasions is the following. Among certain groups the buffalo is stricken down by the warriors who stand round it in a ring and hurl their javelins in turn. Once down, however, the death-blow is administered exactly as I have described above, and the blood allowed to flow to the last drop. This last incident is of the utmost importance in all ritual sacrifices, for all primitive races agree in regarding blood as the most acceptable offering to the gods.

Ceremonies of a ritualistic character also take place when a death occurs. The corpse is immediately propped up against one wall of the hut, a little rice is thrust into its mouth, and each member of the family bawls into its ears in turn. One of the women goes out to the nearest stream with a jar and brings back some holy water. The body is then laid out in a somewhat summary manner and sewn up in a sack of coarse cloth which serves for shroud, after which a few branches are strewn over it. The children begin a melancholy chant accompanying themselves on gongs and wailing women take up the refrain. The house is lit day and night by torches which emit a strong resinous odour. If the dead man is a person of importance the inhabitants of the neighbouring villages are invited and the funeral ceremonies may last several days. A huge metal pot is then placed under the open piles on which the hut stands. Its purpose is to catch the liquids which may exude from the putrefying corpse, for the belief is general that malevolent Spirits are particularly fond of this form of nourishment.

When all the mourners are assembled the interment proper begins. With the first signs of day the bearers take up the body, convey it rapidly through every room of the house, and after wrapping it in large palm leaves secure it to a stout bamboo pole. The next matter is to get it out of the house in such a way that it will never know the point of exit. Otherwise the Spirit will surely find its way back and continue to haunt the living. Accordingly, an opening is very carefully made in the thatched walls or roof, so that the breach will close of itself when the corpse has passed through. The next stage is the procession to the burial ground. The mourners and relatives form up in Indian file and the whole party proceeds in a direct line westwards. After marching a few miles the bearers stop short in the depths of the forest. They proclaim that the corpse has suddenly become heavier by way of asserting its predilection for that particular spot. In truth and fact this piece of pantomime is merely set form, for in nearly every case the presence of several newly-made graves indicates that the family burial-place has been reached. The bearers now choose a tree, which they proceed to cut down, hollow out, and transform into a rude coffin. At the same time others of the party dig the grave itself, which is only deep and wide enough to accommodate the bier. The body is always placed in such a way that the head points westwards.

The women gather round the corpse, crouching on the ground, wailing and tearing their hair. The men stand about, affecting an air of utter indifference. The deceased is now placed in one half of the hollowed trunk, into which the relatives throw amulets, domestic utensils (carefully broken first), rice, maize and various kinds of fruit. Sometimes a hollow cane is passed through the lid of the coffin and the earth above, ending in a small funnel through which liquids can be poured.

As soon as the earth has been returned the bearers stamp it down with their feet and cover the spot with brambles to keep off marauding beasts. A kind of roof of palm leaves is erected over the tomb and on this are placed the broken pieces of the deceased's cooking-pot and cup and a further supply of provisions which are renewed at each new moon during the first year but less frequently afterwards. The mourners now leave and strive to forget their grief in a feast which varies in magnificence with the influence and social position of the departed brother.

Apart from the renewal of the provisions and the annual commemorative festival, I noticed no other particular mortuary observances among the Moï. The individual gravestone which is met with everywhere in China and Annam seems to be unknown among the uncivilized groups of Indo-China.

The chief sign of mourning is to keep the hair cropped quite close for a period varying from one to five years. The return to ordinary life is marked by a ceremony, in the course of which some animal is sacrificed. The liberated mourner boils its head and carries it to lay on the tomb of the deceased, after which all are at liberty to make short work of the rest of the animal.

It is hardly surprising that mourning is not expressed by any change of dress, for the scanty supply of flimsy wrappings does not permit of much variation.

This is perhaps a convenient moment to mention certain burial rites, which seem peculiar to the savage tribes of Tong-King, where the influence of Chinese customs and manners is easily traceable.

When a Tho dies the family strew the floor of the house with a vast number of minute pieces of gold and silver paper. These baubles attract the Spirits, which can then be easily captured. A cloth mask is placed over the dead man's face and goose feathers are fastened into his clothing to enable him to soar over the rivers which might otherwise impede his progress in the world beyond. A complete set of writing materials is put in the coffin so that he may have no difficulty in communicating his ideas and experiences to the living. The Sorcerer furnishes the deceased with a passport and complete directions as to his behaviour in the new existence. The grave is not dug until the Geomancer has determined the exact spot by means of two sticks and a piece of cord. An immense catafalque painted in five colours is raised over the corpse, and under this imposing arch the dead man's sons pass in procession, leaning on their "Weeping Sticks" and preceded by an attendant who throws handfuls of maize into the air to distract the attention of evil Spirits.

When the interment is over the Sorcerer proceeds to burn the catafalque, which, being no more than a slender framework of bamboo covered with sheets of paper or flimsy material, offers no resistance.

A few days after this ceremony those of the dead man's sons who have founded a household of their own raise a small hut near their own establishment to accommodate the personal belongings of the deceased.

Lest the soul should grow weary in its new abode pipes of opium are constantly prepared for it and placed in this hut. Further, occasional diversion is provided by organizing a ritual dance, in which many persons take part. To complete the entertainment of the Spirit, the dancers wear quite special costume, consisting of a mask representing the marabout stork. From this mask falls a long veil which completely conceals the dancer's body and produces a resemblance lively enough to give to this ceremony the name of "The Dance of the Marabouts."

The burning of the catafalque by the Tho calls to mind a curious burial rite observed in some places in France. When a Savoyard dies his relations put on gloves, fasten an armlet on their sleeves, and themselves carry the coffin to the cemetery. Before the earth is returned to the grave they throw these gloves and armlets into the bier and take back the pall to the curé, who burns it. If this custom is originally due to the fear of contagion from anything which has come into contact with the coffin it can hardly be disputed that we are face to face with a true prophylactic rite.

Among the Meo, when a man dies the relatives tie a lacquer dog to the end of a string, which is put in his hand. The reason for this is the belief that the animal will lead its master through the tangled by-paths of his new domain. The corpse is taken to the tomb seated in a chair. A plank is laid at the bottom of the grave and the body lowered on to it.

A similar custom is found among the Indians of British Columbia, who believe that the dead warrior must never be put in his coffin in the house, lest the relatives should lose their souls which would be attracted by the bier and try to get into it. They also follow the practice I have described above of taking the corpse out through the roof or a hole made in the walls.

Another custom popular in Tong-King is for the mourners, as soon as the funeral rites are accomplished, to walk through a narrow passage made between trees or bushes set very close together. By rubbing themselves against these obstacles they shake off any Spirit which might have attached itself to them during the interment.

The direction in which the corpse faces is everywhere considered a matter of the utmost importance. Certain races of the Congo, for example the Bongo, have one rule for the men and another for the women, the former facing north, the latter south.

The Moï cemeteries vary greatly in different regions. Some tribes favour a kind of family burial hut, on the floor of which the coffins are laid in rows. The interstices of the coffin are then carefully filled up with cement made of clay and pulped leaves. This mausoleum is always in the middle of a rice or maize field at a convenient distance from the village. As a rule the edifice has no distinct decorative features, but is usually surrounded by a wooden palisade carved with rough figures. A circular ditch, a yard wide and two yards deep, is dug round the cemetery. The earth thus removed is accumulated on one spot and gradually forms a conical mound. I have occasionally seen such a mound surrounded by a palisade of which each post had received individual artistic treatment.

A common feature of all cemeteries is a wooden shanty looking like a European pigeon-house, in which are stored the bones of the victims offered up in sacrifice for the dead. These charnel houses are often painted with the blood of slaughtered animals.

A funeral pyre is reserved only for the Kings of Fire and Water. Burial in the earth is the rule among all branches of this group. Among a few tribes the coffins are hoisted to the branches of trees and secured with rattan threads. Pieces of coarse cloth wrapped round the corpse are considered sufficient to protect it from the weather. These aerial cemeteries are also found in Borneo.

In all parts of the country the natives displayed the greatest anxiety that we should not disturb their tombs. We paid due regard to their susceptibilities, carrying our respect for their customs even to the length of abandoning a valley which seemed an ideal site for the track of the Trans-Indo-Chinese railway, but which was honeycombed with graves.

CHAPTER IX
ART AND CULTURE