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_ Dyaks are not without their love-songs.
"I am the tender shoot of the drooping libau with
its fragrant scent." "I am the comb of the champion
fighting-cock that never runs away," "I am the
hawk flying down the Kanyau Kiver, coming after
the fine feathered fowl." "I am the crocodile
from the mouth of the Lingga, coming repeatedly
for the striped flower of the rose-apple."
Roth (I., 119-21) cites forty-five of these verses, mostly expressive of such selfish boasting and vanity. Not one of them expresses a feeling of tenderness or admiration of a beloved person, not to speak of altruistic feelings. _
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