jungle, burn it, then take the omens from
the birds before planting, and when he harvested to hold a feast. By
means of a long rope Si Jura was lowered down to the earth again, close
to his father's house. From his visit to the Pleiades the Dayaks learned
all that they know about farming, and, what is more, to this day the
Pleiades themselves tell them when to begin farming, for, according to
their position in the sky in the morning and evening, they cut down the
jungle, burn, plant, and reap."
I think there can be no doubt that Si Kira bestowed a great blessing on
the Dayaks when he gave them rice; but I am very sure that he saddled
them with a dire affliction when he introduced to them the omen-birds;
more procrastination, failure of expeditions, and exasperation of soul
can be laid to the score of these birds than to anything else on earth.
There is hardly an undertaking, however slight, that can be begun
without first consulting these wretched birds. Yet it is hardly to be
wondered at, that all tribes should hold the birds to be little prophets
of the jungle, dashing across man's path, at critical moments, to bless
or to ban. In the deep jungle, which at high noon is as silent as
"sunless retreats of the ocean," gay-plumaged birds are not sitting on
every bough singing plaintive, melodious notes; such lovely pictures
exist solely in the mind of the poet or of him who has never visited the
tropics. In the thick tangle of leaves and branches overhead, the larger
birds are seen with difficulty, even after considerable practice, and
the smaller birds appear as but a flash of light, as they dart through
the interlacing palms and vines; the apparition, with its sudden gleam
and instant disappearance, starts the impulse to make a wish, as when we
see a star shoot across the heavens. This same natural and almost
irresistible impulse, which we have all experienced, I suggest as one of
the explanations of the tendency of the Bornean mind to accept the birds
as the intelligent forerunners of good or ill. These unsophisticated
natives wander forth with some wish in their hearts, and should a bird
of the right species (for not all birds are omen-birds) cross their
path, the fulfilment of their wishes is established beyond a doubt by
its mere appearance, and it is to be feared (for they are mortal) that
if they do not want to see the bird--well, there are none so blind as
those who won't see. When it comes to taking omens for su
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