Stories from Deli

Soerabaijasch handelsblad 22-03-1932

The House of the Dwarfs and the First Paleolithic Tool

Halfway between Medan and Brastagi lies the small town of Sibolangit, known, among other things, for its botanical garden established by the Department of Agriculture and the Deli planters. The road there is bordered on the right by a very deep ravine, and on the slope on the other side, one can find one of the few remnants from ancient times in these areas. It is a massive tuff block with a small chamber carved into it. The Bataks call it the “House of the Dwarfs” and tell fantastic stories about dwarfs who used to inhabit these regions.

For many years, this site had drawn the attention of one of the oldest residents of Deli, who, misled by the Batak name, believed it to be a prehistoric dwelling. I visited the site in 1920 and immediately concluded that we were not dealing with a dwelling but with an old rock tomb, similar to those found in other regions of the archipelago, such as in northern Borneo. The chamber was far too small to serve as a living space for a family; a small, thin man could barely squat in it.

The old Deli resident had to admit this, but, fascinated by the name “House of the Dwarfs,” he tried to cling to the idea of a dwelling through a fantastic hypothesis. He suggested that what was still visible above the ground was only the top of the rock and that most of it had been buried by a landslide. In this buried rock façade, perhaps a dozen larger chambers had been carved out, serving as the dwelling of the ancient inhabitants. Only an excavation could provide proof for this theory.

— Dr. P. V. VAN STEIN CALLENFELS

Soerabaijasch handelsblad 30-03-1932

XII.

I left off last time in my story about the House of the Dwarfs near Sibolangit, where an old DeJiaan (a local elder) believed that excavation could reveal up to ten chambers.

Now, there lived in the Deli region about a decade ago a wealthy planter who was a widower and could afford the luxury of a private medium, which would put him in daily contact with his dear departed wife. The reason is not mentioned in the records, but it seems that the planter gradually began to doubt the sincerity of his medium. After being informed by the old DeJiaan about the hypothesis concerning the buried rock dwellings, it was decided to test the medium at this location. The medium agreed to the proposal, having been thoroughly briefed in advance that the question at hand was whether it was a rock tomb or buried rock dwellings.

Upon arrival, the medium claimed to see, through clairvoyance, very clearly large halls with figures in long white robes—a curious combination of European (!) white shrouds (which one would hardly expect in a prehistoric Batak tomb) and the idea of a rock dwelling. It now had to be determined whether the medium had seen correctly and whether the information it provided was reliable. The planter provided the excavation costs, and the investigation began. Barely a meter below the surface, the rock wall bent inwards at a right angle. Great joy arose, as this was thought to be the start of the first hall; but the excitement soon cooled when continued excavation revealed that they were dealing with the underside of the rock block, and that there was no buried rock façade. The so-called House of the Dwarfs was indeed just a rock tomb.

Meanwhile, during the excavation, one of the laborers found a stone that was much, much heavier than the volcanic tuff of which both the rock block and the surrounding stones were composed. Its weight surprised him, prompting him to present it as a curiosity to the leader of the excavation. This leader immediately recognized it as a piece of andesite and was initially about to discard it, when he noticed another peculiarity. On one of the flat sides of the gray stone, one could see a pattern of blue lines, which could very well form an inscription in an ancient Indian script unknown to the finder. Instead of discarding the stone, he fortunately decided to take it home, with the intention of seeking more information about the inscription at a later date.

A few years later, our well-known Dr. A. Kruyft from Posso on Sumatra’s East Coast, who was engaged in a study of megalithic culture (such as dolmens, etc.) in the archipelago, visited. When he was shown the stone, he immediately got the impression that it was one of those primitive Paleolithic hand axes, like those found in large numbers in Europe but, until then, no traces of which had been discovered in the Indies. He took the piece to Batavia and deposited it at the Office of the Archaeological Service with the request to keep it until my return from the Netherlands to Java.

This happened at a time when Governor-General Fock, for reasons of economy, had decided to cancel the prehistoric research at the Peèrooting site. I had filed a memorandum in the Netherlands with the Minister of Colonies, in which I pointed out the necessity of prehistoric research for our scientific reputation (there was even a motion being prepared abroad to be discussed at the International Congress in Prague, urging our government to finally start taking prehistoric research in the Indies seriously. This motion was not presented because the government retracted its budget cut plans just in time).

Incidentally, I also mentioned that further research could prove the existence of the Paleolithic era in the Dutch East Indies. Therefore, my joy and surprise were great when, a few months later, on August 22, 1924, the stone was handed to me at the office in Batavia—a stone that was unmistakably a Paleolithic hand axe and of the oldest type. Naturally, this led to a local investigation at Sibolangit. Unfortunately, this did not yield any further results; the piece had apparently been carried down to its location by a landslide from a higher spot on the mountain ridge long ago. The Bataafsche Petroleum Company kindly had a few of its geologists investigate the situation, who reached the same conclusion.

Meanwhile, my stay in Deli had brought me into contact again with the shell mounds, which were once found in large numbers on the plains but have now mostly disappeared, as the shells were used to produce lime.

A visit in 1920 to a shell mound on the Boeloe Tjina plantation, which had been pointed out to me by the then Inspector of the Deli Company, Baron Roëll, had already provided proof that these shell mounds were refuse heaps of mollusks consumed by the ancient inhabitants of Sumatra’s East Coast. Besides the shells, bones of animals killed during hunting and used for food were also found, as well as a few stone tools such as grindstones and milling stones.

Since I was already at work on Sumatra’s East Coast, it was decided to conduct further research on these mounds. Thanks to the cooperation of the Civil Administration, it was possible to find a completely intact mound on the Saentis plantation, and the plantation’s management kindly granted permission for excavation. The results of the investigation were surprising. It turned out that the ancient Delian people, whose food remnants made up the mound, used the exact same type of stone axe as the one found at Sibolangit. But even greater surprises awaited me.

When the public on Sumatra’s East Coast, having been informed through a lecture in Medan and excellent reports in the local newspapers, became aware of what I was actually searching for in Deli, reports began to flood in from various plantations about sites where one could pick up similar types of stone tools by the dozens from the ground. I can say that all planters, from high to low, Dutch as well as English, supported my research excellently. In more than fifty places, both in the actual lowlands and in the hill terrain, I found these stone axes in large numbers, sometimes even in the hundreds. After my departure from the East Coast, the then-Controller Heyting, who took a great interest in the research, managed to identify several new locations as well.

On Prehistoric Research. XIII. Bangkok.

Soerabaijasch handelsblad 07-04-1932

With one or two exceptions, all axes found on Sumatra’s East Coast belong to a specific type, different from what is known from Europe. The exceptions include the first-discovered axe from Sibolangit and an axe from the shell mound at Saentis, which are worked on both flat sides. All the others are almond-shaped or elongated ovals and are made from a type of limestone, one side of which has been left intact, preserving the smooth, rounded appearance of river pebbles, while the other side has been shaped through rough chipping of pieces and fragments. The remarkable fact that, contrary to what has been found elsewhere, on the East Coast only axes and hammerstones of one and the same type are encountered, can likely be explained by the abundance of andesite pebbles found in the riverbeds, which provide the easiest material to work with.

Later, I also learned that similar Paleolithic axes are found in South Borneo, but so far, they have only been located in those regions of the archipelago. I am not aware of other sites of this typical culture.

Meanwhile, the Geological Service of Indochina had resumed its prehistoric research after a hiatus of several years, and prehistorians such as Mansuy, Patte, and Dr. Colani focused their attention on the Bacson limestone massif, located north of Hanoi in Tonkin, which contains a large number of caves and rock shelters. There, they found a very peculiar culture, mostly consisting of almond-shaped or elongated oval axes, very roughly worked on both sides, but also a significant number of axes of the Sumatra type, only worked on one side, while the other side retained the original surface of the stone. The similarity between this Bacson culture and our Sumatra culture was immediately apparent. However, there were also significant differences.

Firstly, the Bacson culture was much richer in tool types than the Sumatra culture, which, as mentioned, only had two types: an axe and a hammerstone. Furthermore, a tool of very peculiar shape appeared in the Bacson caves. For the most part, it was a natural stone without any sign of working, which had already acquired the shape suitable for a tool through river abrasion. The ancient inhabitants then turned this into a real axe by grinding and polishing one of its sides into a sharp edge. Where naturally shaped stones were not sufficiently available, they simply ground a sharp edge onto a worked axe of the regular type.

Naturally, we cannot yet speak of a Neolithic period here, as the majority of the tools still exhibit a Paleolithic type, and even the polished tools are technically Paleolithic with a sharpened edge. The French prehistorians immediately thought of a people living in a Paleolithic stage of civilization, coming into contact with another group that had already developed the skill of grinding axes. The Sumatra culture would then represent an earlier stage, while it was evident from the richness of tool types in Indochina—where, meanwhile, they had also found layers without the proto-Neolithic tools (a term given to the distinctive shape with only the edge sharpened)—and the scarcity of types in Sumatra, that this form of civilization spread from Indochina to Sumatra.

Transport by airplane is certainly out of the question, so the spread must have taken place over land, and thus traces of this culture should also be found on the Malay Peninsula. It was therefore only natural that we decided to try to find evidence of this Paleolithic civilization there as well, since, as argued in one of my earlier letters, prehistory cannot be confined within present political boundaries.

There was no trained prehistorian familiar with excavation methods on the Malay Peninsula, but in Mr. Evans, the government ethnographer, we had someone who had already engaged extensively with prehistory. A joint investigation on the peninsula would thus have the advantage that not only could we perhaps trace the connection between Indochina and Sumatra, but Mr. Evans would also have the opportunity to become acquainted with research methods.

For, while it may seem of no importance to the Dutch East Indies whether or not the person conducting prehistoric research in another country is well-informed, in reality, the reliability of the data obtained—and thus its value for the entire field of prehistory—depends entirely on this.

The joint investigation was therefore agreed upon, but before reporting the results, I would like to offer a small anecdote as a change of pace for the patient reader who has waded through my account thus far, one that my friend Evans will surely not mind, as I have heard him recount it many times in public with great amusement.

Once it was decided that the joint investigation would take place, I suggested that Evans first take a look at Sumatra, where he could spend five useful days visiting the excavation of the shell mound at Saentis and various stone axe sites on the plantations. He accepted my proposal but ended up staying for 10 days instead of five. When the prehistoric program was completed in the first five days, I decided to use the remaining five days—since he was originally an ethnographer—to visit different Batak tribes in the highlands. Thus, I was able to take him through the villages of the Karo, Raja, Simeloengoen, and Toba Bataks. But when the five days were up, he had to be content with verbal information from me about the other Batak tribes.

For example, I told him a few things about the Sipirok and Mandailing Bataks and especially about the Dairi tribes I had visited in 1920, who until recently were such fierce cannibals that human flesh was sold in the markets until our troops, under Van Daalen, stormed the area in 1901.

Several months later, I went to the peninsula to begin our joint research. In the meantime, I discovered that Evans, during a superficial survey of some caves a few years earlier, had found axes identical to those from Indochina and Sumatra. I suggested that, before starting the excavations, we spend a few days studying the items already in the Taiping Museum.

So, we started by examining the display cases with Neolithic and a few Paleolithic axes, then moved on to prehistoric pottery, and finally ended with the human bone remains that he had found in the caves over the years.

With my well-known superhuman laziness, I planted myself in a chair in front of the cabinet containing the bones, while Evans remained standing next to me. Now, often, you can draw some conclusions about the age of bones by determining the degree of fossilization—how much they have turned to stone. In some cases, groundwater washes away the organic substance particle by particle and replaces it with silica, so that in the end you are left with a piece of silica entirely in the shape of the original bone, but with none of its original organic material. This is what we call fossils.

There is now a simple test to determine the degree of fossilization. You moisten your finger and press it against the bone. Depending on how much organic substance is left in the bone or has already been replaced by silica, the bone will absorb the moisture to a greater or lesser extent, causing your finger to stick to it.

I began with a piece of a skull, which showed no signs of fossilization, then picked up a thigh bone where a beginning of fossilization could be detected. I passed the thigh bone to Evans, who was standing beside me, and looked at him, which I had not done until that moment, my attention having been focused on the bones. To my utter astonishment, he was as white as a sheet and had an expression of horror on his face that was indescribable. When I handed him the bone, he raised both his hands in a gesture of refusal and, in a plaintive voice, cried out: “Oh no, doctor, never, never! Human bones!”

At first, I didn’t understand, but after a few questions, I realized that he didn’t know about the test. When I began it, he thought to himself, “What is this old fool doing?” Then it dawned on him that I had traveled among the cannibalistic Dairi Bataks, and his logical conclusion was that I had become addicted to human flesh there and, since I could not get it now, was satisfying my craving by licking human bones. Passing him the thigh bone was understood as an invitation to try it too, like offering a drink at the bar of the club.

The prehistoric research on the peninsula, which began in such a funny and unscientific way, yielded very positive results.

— Dr. P. V. VAN STEIN CALLENFELS