effect that a Malay boy (a mere child) fell into the big rice-bin (kĕpok) in his
parents’ absence and was suffocated by the rice. After some days the body began
to decompose, and the ooze emanating from the rice-bin was licked up by a
buffalo belonging to the boy’s parents. The attention of these latter being thus
attracted to the rice-bin, they found therein the remains of their child, and
thereupon cursed the buffalo, which (we are led to infer) became “white,” and
has remained so ever since. According to one version, a ground-dove (tĕkukur)
was implicated both in the offence and the punishment which followed it.
Wherefore to this day no man eats of the flesh of either of the offenders.
Perhaps the most extraordinary transformation in which the Malays implicitly
believe is that of the Squirrel, which is supposed to be developed from a large
caterpillar called ulat sĕntadu.^127
About the Cat there are many superstitions which show that it is believed to
possess supernatural powers. Thus it is supposed to be lucky to keep cats
because they long for a soft cushion to lie upon, and so (indirectly) wish for the
prosperity of their master.^128 On the other hand, cats must be very carefully
prevented from rubbing up against a corpse, for it is said that on one occasion
when this was neglected, the badi or Evil Principle which resides in the cat’s
body entered into the corpse, which thus became endowed with unnatural life
and stood up upon its feet. So too the soaking of the cat in a pan of water until it
is half-drowned is believed to produce an abundance of rain.^129 It is, besides,
believed to be extremely unlucky to kill cats. Of this superstition Mr. Clifford
says:—
“It is a common belief among Malays that if a cat is killed he who takes its life
will in the next world be called upon to carry and pile logs of wood, as big as
cocoa-nut trees, to the number of the hairs on the beast’s body. Therefore cats
are not killed; but if they become too daring in their raids on the hen-coop or the
food rack, they are tied to a raft and sent floating down stream, to perish
miserably of hunger. The people of the villages by which they pass make haste
to push the raft out again into mid-stream, should it in its passage adhere to bank
or bathing-hut, and on no account is the animal suffered to land. To any one who
thinks about it, this long and lingering death is infinitely more cruel than one
caused by a blow from an axe; but the Malays do not trouble to consider such a
detail, and would care little if they did.”^130