They resembled a lot of small children and would beat their gongs
simply to amuse themselves. Very often a Dayak, on returning from
his work or a hunt in the jungle, would walk straight up to a large
gong that was hanging up and hammer on it for a few minutes in a most
businesslike way, looking all the time as if it bored him. Then he
would walk away in much the same way as a man would leave the telephone
(as if he had just got through some business). I suppose it soothed
them after their day's work, but it irritated me.
The Dayak dogs are fearful and wonderful animals, both as regards
shape and colour, and I could get very little sleep on account of
the noise they made; yet the Dayaks seemed to sleep through it all.
One night I woke up after a particularly noisy fight, and saw what
appeared to me to be a dog sitting calmly by my bed with its back
turned to me. Lifting my mosquito net, therefore, very quietly, I let
drive with my fist at it, putting all my pent-up indignation and anger
for sleepless nights into the blow. Alas! it was a very solid dog that
I struck against, being nothing more nor less than the side of one of
my boxes, and I barked my knuckles rather badly. The laughter of the
Dayaks was loud and prolonged when Dubi translated the yarn to them
next day, and they remembered it long afterwards.
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