The Vegetation Spirit of the Malays “follows in some vague and partial way,” to
use Professor Tylor’s words, from the analogy of the Animal Spirit. It is difficult
to say, without a more searching inquiry than I have yet had the opportunity of
making, whether Malay magicians would maintain that all trees had souls
(sĕmangat) or not. All that we can be certain of at present is that a good many
trees are certainly supposed by them to have souls, such, for instance, as the
Durian, the Cocoa-nut palm, and the trees which produce Eagle-wood (gharu),
Gutta Percha, Camphor, and a good many others.
What can be more significant than the words and actions of the men who in
former days would try and frighten the Durian groves into bearing; or of the
toddy-collector who addresses the soul of the Cocoa-nut palm in such words as,
“Thus I bend your neck, and roll up your hair; and here is my ivory toddy-knife
to help the washing of your face”;^135 or of the collectors of jungle produce who
traffic in Eagle-wood, Camphor, and Gutta (the spirits of the first two of which
trees are considered extremely powerful and dangerous) or, above all, of the
reapers who carry the “Rice-soul” home at harvest time?
A special point in connection with the Malay conception of the vegetation soul
perhaps requires particular attention, viz. the fact that apparently dead and even
seasoned timber may yet retain the soul which animated it during its lifetime.
Thus, the instructions for the performance of the rites to be used at the launching
of a boat (which will be found below under the heading “The Sea, Rivers, and
Streams”)^136 involve an invocation to the timbers of the boat, which would
therefore seem to be conceived as capable, to some extent, of receiving
impressions and communications made in accordance with the appropriate forms
and ceremonies.