Be not careless or slothful,
Linger not by inlet or river-reach,
Dally not with mistress or courtesan,
But descend and enter into your embodiment.”A number of rhymed stanzas follow which will be found in the Appendix.
Meanwhile the medicine-man was not backward in his preparations for the
proper reception of the spirit. First he scattered incense on the embers and
fumigated himself therewith, “shampooing” himself, so to speak, with his hands,
and literally bathing in the cloud of incense which volumed up from the newly-
replenished censer and hung like a dense gray mist over his head. Next he
inhaled the incense through his nostrils, and announced in the accents of what is
called the spirit-language (bhasa hantu) that he was going to “lie down.” This he
accordingly did, reclining upon his back, and drawing the upper end of his long
plaid sarong over his head so as to completely conceal his features. The
invocation was not yet ended, and for some time we sat in the silence of
expectation. At length, however, the moment of possession arrived, and with a
violent convulsive movement, which was startling in its suddenness, the
“Pawang” rolled over on to his face. Again a brief interval ensued, and a second
but somewhat less violent spasm shook his frame, the spasm being strangely
followed by a dry and ghostly cough. A moment later and the Pawang, still with
shrouded head, was seated bolt upright facing the tambourine player. Then he
fronted round, still in a sitting posture, until he faced the jars, and removed the
yam-leaf covering from the mouth of each jar in turn.
Next he kindled a wax taper at the flame of a lamp placed for the purpose just
behind the jars, and planted it firmly on the brim of the first jar by spilling a little
wax upon the spot where it was to stand. Two similar tapers having been kindled
and planted upon the brims of the second and third jars, he then partook of a
“chew” of betel-leaf (which was presented to him by one of the women present),
crooning the while to himself.
This refreshment concluded, he drew from his girdle a bezoar or talismanic stone
(batu pĕnawar), and proceeded to rub it all over the patient’s neck and
shoulders. Then, facing about, he put on a new white jacket and head-cloth
which had been placed beside him for his use, and girding his plaid (sarong)
about his waist, drew from its sheath a richly-wrought dagger (k’ris) which he