During this the guests who have been invited to the feast are seated about eating and drinking, or chatting to each other. Later on in the evening, when the _manangs_ have completed their ceremony, the _tuak_ in the jar is handed round in cups for the guests to drink. As usual at feasts, when a cup of spirit is given to a man, he drinks the contents and keeps the cup, and it is no unusual thing to see a man returning from a feast with twenty or thirty cups in his possession. There is a good deal of deceit and humbug and a little clumsy sleight-of-hand on the part of the _manang_, and an unlimited amount of faith on the part of the patient. The _manang_ must be conscious of his own deceit, but he believes that his incantations do good, and I have often known cases of _manangs_ having these ceremonies for members of their own family who are ill. But as a rule a _manang_ is not a truthful man at all. He is not above telling any number of lies to increase his importance. He always pretends to have had previous knowledge of what is going to happen, and often says, when he is called in to a case, that he knew some time previously that his patient would be ill and come to him for help. There can be no doubt that the average Dyak knows that there is a great deal of deceit connected with the _manang’s_ profession, but he also knows he must submit to that deceit if he wishes to have his help, and he believes that in some way the incantations and remarkable actions of the _manangs_ help to scare away the evil spirit which is the cause of the disease. I remember that one of my schoolboys was on a visit to his relatives in Saribas. His sister was ill, and his parents sent for the _manangs_ to cure her. The boy protested. He said they were Christians, and ought not to make incantations to the spirits. But no notice was taken of what he said. The _manang_ went through the usual farce of “catching the soul” and restoring it to the girl. The boy looked on, and when it was over said to him: “You are a fraud. You know you cannot ‘catch the soul,’ and you only pretend to do so, and get paid for it.” The _manang_ was no doubt disgusted at being thus reproved by a little boy, and replied: “I am able to catch the soul and restore it. I will catch your soul if you like.” “Do so,” said the boy. “I would like you very much to do it.” The foolish _manang_ pretended to faint; then he woke up in the orthodox manner with one hand clenched, and when he opened it, lo and behold! there was something there which he declared was the boy’s soul. The boy sat and looked on while all this went on. “Here is your soul,” the _manang_ said, “which I have succeeded in catching after much troubled. Let me restore it to you, so that you may be in good health.” “Call that my soul?” said the boy. “I make a present of it to you. I do not want it. You can keep it. I have a soul which you cannot touch.”