"The supernatural bird Gerda (Garuda, the eagle of Vishnu), who figures frequently in Malay romances, is dimly known to the Malay peasant. If, during the day, the sun is suddenly overcast by clouds and shadow succeeds to brilliancy, the Pêrak Malay will say "Gerda is spreading out his wings to dry." [222] Tales are told, too, of other fabulous birds [223]--the jintayu, which is never seen, though its note is heard, and which announces the approach of rain; [224] and the chandrawasi, which has no feet. The chandrawasi lives in the air, and is constantly on the wing, never descending to earth or alighting on a tree. Its young even are produced without the necessity of touching the earth. The egg is allowed to drop, and as it nears the earth it bursts, and the young bird appears fully developed. The note of the chandrawasi may often be heard at night, but never by day, and it is lucky, say the Malays, to halt at a spot where it is heard calling. "There is an allusion to this bird in a common pantun--a kind of erotic stanza very popular among the Malays:-- "Chandrawasi burong sakti, Sangat berkurong didalam awan. Gonda gulana didalam hati, Sahari tidak memandang tuan. [225] "Nocturnal birds are generally considered ill-omened all over the world, and popular superstition among the Malays fosters a prejudice against one species of owl. If it happens to alight and hoot near a house, the inhabitants say significantly that there will soon be 'tearing of cloth' (koyah kapan) for a shroud. This does not apply to the small owl called punggok, which, as soon as the moon rises, may often be heard to emit a soft plaintive note. The note of the punggok is admired by the Malays, who suppose it to be sighing for the moon, and find in it an apt simile for a desponding lover. "The baberek or birik-birik, another nocturnal bird, is a harbinger of misfortune. This bird is said to fly in flocks at night; it has a peculiar note, and a passing flock makes a good deal of noise. If these birds are heard passing, the Pêrak peasant brings out a sengkalan (a wooden platter on which spices are ground), and beats it with a knife, or other domestic utensil, calling out as he does so: "Nenek, bawa hati-nia" ("Great-grandfather, bring us their hearts"). This is an allusion to the belief that the bird baberek flies in the train of the Spectre Huntsman (hantu pemburu), who roams Malay forests with several ghostly dogs, and whose appearance is the forerunner of disease or death. "Bring us their hearts" is a mode of asking for some of his game, and it is hoped that the request will delude the hantu pemburu into the belief that the applicants are ra`iyat, or followers of his, and that he will, therefore, spare the household. "The baberek, [226] which flies with the wild hunt, bears a striking resemblance to the white owl, Totosel, the nun who broke her vow, and now mingles her "tutu" with the "holloa" of the Wild Huntsman of the Harz. [227]