The following description of a ceremony similar to the one just described is
taken from Malay Sketches:—
“The bĕr-hantu is, of course, a survival of præ-Islam darkness, and the priests
abominate it, or say they do; but they have to be a little careful, because the
highest society affects the practice of the Black Art.
“To return to the king’s house. In the middle of the floor was spread a puâdal, a
small narrow mat, at one end of which was seated a middle-aged woman dressed
like a man in a short-sleeved jacket, trousers, a sârong, and a scarf fastened
tightly round her waist. At the other end of the mat was a large newly-lighted
candle in a candlestick. Between the woman and the taper were two or three
small vessels containing rice coloured with turmeric, parched padi, and
perfumed water. An attendant sat near at hand.
“The woman in male attire was the Pâwang, the Raiser of Spirits, the Witch, not
of Endor, but of as great repute in her own country and among her own people.
In ordinary life she was an amusing lady named Raja Ngah, a scion of the
reigning house on the female side, and a member of a family skilled in all
matters pertaining to occultism. In a corner of the room were five or six girls
holding native drums, instruments with a skin stretched over one side only, and
this is beaten usually with the fingers. The leader of this orchestra was the
daughter of Raja Ngah.
“Shortly after I sat down, the proceedings began by the Pâwang covering her
head and face with a silken cloth, while the orchestra began to sing a weird
melody in an unknown tongue. I was told it was the spirit language; the air was
one specially pleasing to a particular Jin, or Spirit, and the invocation, after
reciting his praises, besought him to come from the mountains or the sea, from
underground or overhead, and relieve the torments of the King.
“As the song continued, accompanied by the rhythmical beating of the drums,
the Pâwang sat with shrouded head in front of the lighted taper, holding in her
right hand against her left breast a small sheaf of the grass called daun sambau,
tied tightly together and cut square at top and bottom.
“This châdak she shook, together with her whole body, by a stiffening of the
muscles, while all eyes were fixed upon the taper.