Stories from Deli

Sumatra Courant 01-08-1874

We were now forced to ask our followers to carry the luggage themselves. Fortunately, it didn’t take long before the Si Baja of Baroe-Djabai, having learned of the difficulties we were facing, sent his eldest son with a large number of Bataks to meet us. They immediately picked up our goods and carried them to their kampong.

The path to the kampong was through flat terrain with extensive grass and rice fields, which were being prepared for planting. Near the kampong Baroe-Djabai, we were greeted with a salvo of gunfire. Men, women, and children from the kampong itself and nearby kampongs had gathered to see us. The women continually shouted a threefold cheer, called tjelap in Batak, which is a deafening scream. The horses, unaccustomed to such noise, jumped and reared, but the people paid no attention and continued the shooting and shouting. We were not allowed to enter the kampong until they had observed us from the front, back, and sides.

After this ceremony was completed, we proceeded to the kampong. The Kedjoeroehan of Senembah led the procession, followed by the Si Baja with his sons and followers, while the guns were continuously fired on both sides of us. Upon entering the kampong, we noticed two long open bamboo sheds, which were to serve as our lodging. These buildings were six feet high, including the two-foot stilts on which they stood. Though they offered little comfort, they were sufficient for us to sleep in during the night. We therefore set up our bivouac on the grass upon arriving in the kampong, and it wasn’t long before the chief of Baroe-Djabai and the villagers, men, women, and children, gathered around us, touching various parts of our clothing.

It seemed they were all filled with wonder and appeared to harbor some fear of us, as they all had curious and smiling faces. After we had rested, I took out a red woolen jacket, adorned with gold braiding, from my supplies and offered it as a gift to the Si Baja. He was so pleased with it that he ordered his people to raise a threefold cheer, which, like before, created a terrifying noise.

That evening, we warmed ourselves by a large fire, as the temperature dropped to 54°F, and we prepared our evening meal. The next morning, intending to bathe, we realized we had to descend about three hundred feet to reach the bathing place. However, we didn’t let that stop us and took a bath in a natural spring, which received its water from a conduit they had built. Most kampongs in the Batak lands are supplied with water in this way.

Baroe-Djabai is heavily populated; the number of people in the kampong is estimated to be quite large. How so many people can find shelter in the kampong is beyond my understanding, as I only saw about five houses; the rest had all been destroyed by fire some time ago. Fires occur frequently here. One of the ways to show hostility during war is to secretly sneak into a kampong at night and set it on fire.

At 10 o’clock in the morning, the Si Baja sent the elders of the kampong to present me with a cow as a gift, which I had slaughtered and distributed among my followers; a portion was also given to the chiefs according to custom.

At 11 o’clock, the Si Baja’s wives brought me sirih, and I gave them some gifts in return. At 12 o’clock, just as we were about to depart, I noticed a great commotion; many people had gathered at a spot not far from our lodging, and it wasn’t long before a delegation came to me on behalf of the Si Baja, asking if I would accept a white Batak horse as a memento of my visit to his kampong. Raja Moedin, representing the Sultan of Deli, received a brown horse. I accepted the offer, and then a procession of about five hundred people of all ages, dancing and jumping, advanced with great noise; even old women, whom I estimated to be 60 to 70 years old, participated, led by music consisting of a flute, two drums, and two types of violins—one with two strings, the other with three strings. The two-string violin isn’t played with a bow and would be more accurately called a guitar.

(The Batak names for these instruments are: for flute, sroenei; for drum, genderang; for violin, rebab; and for guitar, ketjape.) The ketjape is played with a piece of sega (a type of palm fiber) about an inch long, held between the thumb and forefinger.

Soon after, they arrived in front of my humble lodging. Above the white horse, which was being led by the reins on both sides, one of the prominent villagers held a yellow umbrella as a sign of honor. The horse was led forward, rearing up, and then made a bow, by assuming a sitting position with its front legs extended.

After this was done three times, the horse was presented to me. I then gave everyone some gifts; to the sons of the Si Baja, some woolen jackets, as well as to his panghoeloes (chiefs); and to the Si Baja himself, another red silk handkerchief, which caused general rejoicing.

After this ceremony, which was accompanied by gunfire, was over, we continued our journey, and we were escorted out in the same way we had been welcomed. In the evening, around 6:30 PM, we arrived at the kampong of Senaman, where we found lodging for the night. Senaman is a reasonably large kampong and offers a splendid view of Mount Blerang, Mount Kwali, and Mount Baros.

In Senaman, just as in Salah-Boelan, there was a Batak man in chains, and this one was kept in the attic of the kampong chief’s house. Raja Moedin informed me of this. I then called for the kampong chief, who told me that he had punished the man in this way because the man, a guest from a neighboring kampong, had the misfortune to urinate in his sleep next to the brother of the panghoeloe, hitting him in the process. This was considered an insult, and they couldn’t let it go unpunished.

I then asked if the matter couldn’t be resolved with a fine, and fortunately, the panghoeloe agreed. The fine was set at six dollars and was paid by the man’s family. The Batak man was then lucky enough to regain his freedom, although it would take a few days for him to be able to walk again, as he was unable to stand immediately after being released from the chains.

The kampong was teeming with cattle and buffaloes, and here too, we were offered a cow.

For now, these notes come to an end, to be continued upon receiving a new installment of the Journal for Indian Language, Land, and Ethnology.

VAN CAETS Baron DE RAET, Reize in de Battaklanden in December 1866 en Januari 1867, Tijdschrift voor Ind. Taal-, Land- en Volkenkunde, XXII, 1875, S. 164—219