wholesome rule was the cause of bad harvests. I was accordingly pressed to fine
transgressors, which would perhaps have been a somewhat difficult thing to do.
The fact, however, that in many places these rules are generally observed is a
tribute to the influence of the Pawang who lends his sanction to them.”^3
“The Pawang keeps a familiar spirit, which in his case is a hantu pŭsaka, that is,
an hereditary spirit which runs in the family, in virtue of which he is able to deal
summarily with the wild spirits of an obnoxious character.”^4
The foregoing description is so precise and clear that I have not much to add to
it. There are, however, one or two points which require emphasis. One of these is
that the priestly magician stands in certain respects on the same footing as the
divine man or king—that is to say, he owns certain insignia which are exactly
analogous to the regalia of the latter, and are, as Mr. Blagden points out, called
by the same name (kabĕsaran). He shares, moreover, with the king the right to
make use of cloth dyed with the royal colour (yellow), and, like the king, too,
possesses the right to enforce the use of certain ceremonial words and phrases, in
which respect, indeed, his list is longer, if anything, than that of royalty.
He also acts as a sort of spirit-medium and gives oracles in trances; possesses
considerable political influence; practises (very occasional) austerities; observes
some degree of chastity, and appears quite sincere in his conviction of his own
powers. At least he always has a most plausible excuse ready to account for his
inability to do whatever is required. An aged magician who came from Perak to
doctor one of H.H. the Sultan’s sons (Raja Kahar) while I was at Langat, had the
unusual reputation of being able to raise a sandbank in the sea at will; but when I
asked if I could see it done, he explained that it could only be done in time of
war when he was hard pressed by an enemy’s boat, and he could not do it for the
sake of mere ostentation! Moreover, like members of their profession all the
world over, these medicine-men are, perhaps naturally, extremely reticent; it was
seldom that they would let their books be seen, much less copied, even for fair
payment, and a Pawang once refused to tell me a charm until I had taken my
shoes off and was seated with him upon a yellow cloth while he repeated the
much-prized formula.
The office of magician is, as has been said, very often hereditary. It is not so
always, however, there being certain recognised ways in which a man may “get
magic.” One of the most peculiar is as follows: “To obtain magical powers