CHAPTER V.

WORSHIP OF THE MALEVOLENT DEAD.

Prôtê de psychê Elpênoros êlthen etairou,

Ou gar pô etethapto hypo chthonos euryodeiês.

Odyssey, xi. 51, 52.

These deified ghosts and saints whom we have been discussing, though

occasionally touchy and sensitive to insult or disrespect, are, as

a rule, benevolent. But there is another class of beings at whose

feet the rustic lies in grievous and perpetual bondage. These are

the malevolent dead.

Spirits of the Dead Hostile.

It is not difficult to understand why the spirits of the dead should

be regarded as hostile. A stranger is, in the belief of all primitive

people, synonymous with an enemy; and the spirit of the departed

having abandoned his own and joined some other and invisible tribe,

whose domains lie outside the world of sense, is sure to be considered

inimical to the survivors left on earth. As we have already seen, even

the usually kindly spirit of the departed household dead requires

propitiation and resents neglect; much more those of a different

tribe or family.

Again, those disembodied souls in particular whose departure from the

earth occurred under unexpected or specially tragical circumstances

are naturally considered to have been ejected against their will

from their tenement of clay, and as for many of them the proper

funeral rites have not been performed, they carry with them to the

next world an angry longing for revenge. As Brand, writing of British

ghosts, says, "The ghosts of murdered persons, whose bodies have been

secretly buried, are restless until their bones have been taken up

and deposited in consecrated ground with the due rites of Christian

burial; this idea being the survival of the old heathen superstition

that Charon was not allowed to ferry over the ghosts of the unburied,

but that they wandered up and down the banks of the river Styx for

a period of a hundred years, at the expiration of which they were

admitted to a passage." [469]

This conception of the state of the soul after death may be illustrated

by the savage theory of dreams.

Savage Theory of Dreams.

Many savages believe that the evidence of dreams is sufficient to

prove that the soul moves about during sleep, and that the dream is

the record of its experiences in hunting, dancing, visiting friends,

and so on.

The Separable Soul.

Hence arises the possibility that in the temporary absence of a man's

soul his body may be occupied by some other person's spirit, or even by

a malignant ghost or demon. In the Panchatantra there is a story of a

king who lost his own soul, but afterwards recovered it. A Panjâb tale

tells how a Hindu was once asleep and his soul went on its travels as

usual. During its wanderings it felt thirsty and went into a pitcher of

water to drink. While it was in the pitcher some one shut the lid, and

it was imprisoned. His friends took the corpse to the cremation ground,

but some one happened fortunately to open the pitcher just in time,

and the spirit flew into its own body, which awoke on the bier. [470]

In the same way, according to Apollonius, the soul of Hermotimos of

Klazomenoe left his body frequently, resided in different places,

uttered all sorts of predictions, and used to come back to his body,

which remained in his house. At last some spiteful persons burnt

his body in the absence of his soul. In another tale of Somadeva the

soul of Chandraprabha abandons his own body and enters that of a hero

under the influence of Mâyâ or delusion. [471]

On this principle Hindus are very cautious about awaking a sleeping

friend, lest his soul may happen to be absent at the time, and in

Bombay it is considered most reprehensible to play jokes on a sleeping

person, such as painting the face in fantastic colours, or giving

moustaches to a sleeping woman. The absent soul may not be able to

find its own body, the appearance of which has been thus changed,

and may depart altogether, leaving the body a corpse.

It is a common incident of the folk-tales that the soul departs

in a dream and falls in love with a girl. We have it in the common

tale of the Rival Queens, where the king sees in a dream the most

lovely woman in the world, and imposes on his courtiers the task of

finding her. The same idea is found more or less in Somadeva, and

constantly recurs in European folk-lore. [472] In the same way we have

the well-known tale of the instantaneous lapse of time in dreams,

as that of the king who plunges his head into water, goes through

wondrous adventures, and when he takes his head out of the vessel,

finds himself surrounded by his courtiers as before.

The rustic Hindu firmly believes that in the absence of a man's proper

soul in a dream his body is occupied by some strange and consequently

malignant ghost. Hence come the nightmare and evil dreams. Thus the

Korwas of Mirzapur believe that a Bhûtin or dangerous female ghost

named Reiyâ besets them at night under the orders of some witch, and

attacks people's joints with the rheumatism. The Majhwârs believe that

the Râkshasa attacks them in dreams. He comes in the shape of an old

man with enormous teeth, brown of colour, with black, entangled hair,

and sometimes swallows his victims. It is fear of him that brings the

fever, and he can be exorcised only by the Baiga with an offering

of rice and pulse. The Dâno also comes in dreams, squeezes a man's

throat, and stops his breath. The Bhuiyârs have adopted from the

Hindu mythology Jam or Yama as one of their dream ghosts. He sits

on his victim's breast in sleep, and it is impossible to shake him

off or make an alarm. Sometimes these night ghosts come as tigers,

wolves, or bears, and hunt a man down in his sleep.

On the same principle the shadow of a man is believed to be part of

a man's soul, and may be separated from him, injured or wounded by

an enemy. Hence it is considered dangerous to tread on the shadow of

a man in the sunshine. Buddha is said to have left his shadow in the

cave at Pabhosa, where he killed the Nâga. [473]

The same is the case with looking into other people's mirrors, because

you may chance leave behind your reflection, which is part of your

soul. As we have seen, this is the basis of much of the theory of water

spirits, which lurk in water holes and seize the reflection of anyone

who looks into them. The Sunni Muhammadans in Bombay cover up all the

looking-glasses in a house when a person is sick, as the soul, which is

just then on the prowl, may be absorbed, and leave its owner a corpse.

Lastly, the same theory accounts for the disinclination which rustics

have to being painted or photographed. Some of the soul goes out in

the image and does not return. There is a rest-house on the Asthbhuja

Hill at Mirzapur which was many years ago presented to the Europeans

of the station by a wealthy banker. He was overpersuaded to allow

his picture to be painted, and fell into a lingering consumption,

of which he soon after died.

The Bhût.

The general term for these spirits is Bhût, in Sanskrit Bhûta, which

means "formed" or "created." In the earlier Hindu writings the word

is applied to the powers of Nature, and even to deities. Siva himself

is called Bhûtîsvara, or "Lord of spirits," and, under the name of

Bhûtîsvara Mahâdeva, has a shrine at Mathura. But as the Greek Dæmon

acquired a less respectable meaning in the later ages of the history

of the nation, so Bhût has now come to imply a malignant evil spirit.

But Bhût is a general term which includes many grades of evil spirits

which it is necessary to distinguish. We shall first, however, deal

with certain characters common to Bhûts in general.

The proper Bhût is the spirit emanating from a man who has died a

violent death, either by accident, suicide, or capital punishment. Such

a soul reaches an additional grade of malignancy if he has been

denied proper funeral ceremonies after death. This is one of his

special wants which deprive the spirit of his longed-for rest. Thus,

we read in Childe Harold, "Unsepulchred they roamed and shrieked,

each wandering ghost." The shade of Patroclus appeared to Achilles

in his sleep and demanded the performance of his funeral, and the

younger Pliny tells of a haunted house in Athens, in which a ghost

played all kinds of pranks owing to his funeral rites having been

neglected. This idea is at the base of the Hindu funeral ceremonies,

and of the periodical Srâddha. Hence arose the conception of the Gayâl,

or sonless ghost. He is the spirit of a man who has died without any

issue competent to perform the customary rites; hence he is spiteful,

and he is especially obnoxious to the lives of the young sons of

other people. Accordingly in every Panjâb village will be seen small

platforms, with rows of little hemispherical depressions into which

milk and Ganges water are poured, and by which lamps are lit and

Brâhmans fed to conciliate the Gayâl; "while the careful mother will

always dedicate a rupee to him, and hang it round her child's neck

till he grows up." Mr. Ibbetson [474] suggests that this may have

been the origin of the mysterious so-called "cup-marks," described

by Mr. Rivett-Carnac. But this is far from certain; they may equally

well have been used for sacrifices to Mother Earth, or in any other

primeval form of worship.

Shrines to Persons Accidentally Killed.

Many of these shrines to persons who have died by an untimely death

are known by special names, which indicate the character of the

accident. We shall meet again with the Baghaut, or shrine, to a man

killed by a tiger. We have also Bijaliya Bîr, the man who was killed

by lightning, Târ Bîr, a man who fell from a Târ or toddy tree, and

Nâgiya Bîr, a person killed by a snake. General Cunningham mentions

shrines of this kind; one to an elephant driver who was killed by

a fall from a tree, another to a Brâhman who was killed by a cow, a

third to a Kashmîri lady who had only one leg and died in her flight

from Delhi to Oudh of exhaustion on the journey.

Bhûts are most to be feared by women and children, and by people at any

serious crisis of their lives, such as marriage or child-birth. They

also attack people after eating sweets, "so that if you treat a

school to sweetmeats, the sweetmeat seller will also bring salt, of

which he will give a pinch to each boy to take the sweet taste out

of his mouth." [475] Salt is, as we shall see later on, particularly

offensive to evil spirits. [476]

Second Marriage and Bhûts.

Women who have married a second time are specially liable to the

envious attacks of the first husband. If in Bombay "a Mahâdeo

Koli widow bride or her husband sicken, it is considered the work

of the former husband. Among the Somavansi Kshatriyas, there is a

strong belief that when a woman marries another husband, her first

husband becomes a ghost and troubles her. This fear is so strongly

rooted in their minds, that whenever a woman of this caste sickens,

she attributes her sickness to the ghost of her former husband, and

consults an exorcist as to how she can get rid of him. The exorcist

gives her some charmed rice, flowers, and basil leaves, and tells

her to enclose them in a small copper box and wear it round her

neck. Sometimes the exorcist gives her a charmed cocoanut, which he

tells her to worship daily, and in some cases he advises the woman

to make a copper or silver image of the dead and worship it every

day." [477]

So in Northern India, people who marry again after the death of the

first wife wear what is known as the Saukan Maura, or second wife's

crown. This is a little silver amulet, generally with an image of Devî

engraved on it. This is hung round the husband's neck, and all presents

made to the second wife are first dedicated to it. The idea is that

the new wife recognizes the superiority of her predecessor, and thus

appeases her malignity. The illness or death of the second wife or

of her husband soon after marriage is attributed to the jealousy of

the ghost of the first wife, which has not been suitably propitiated.

In the Panjâb, on the same principle, if a man has lost two or three

wives in succession, he gets a woman to catch a bird and adopt it

as her daughter. He then pays the dower, marries his bird bride,

and immediately divorces her. By this means the malignant influence

is diverted to the bird, and the real wife is safe. [478] We shall

meet again with the same principle in dealing with the curious custom

of tree marriage.

Food of Bhûts.

Like evil spirits all the world over, Bhûts will eat filthy food,

and as they are always thirsty, they are glad to secure even a drop

of water, no matter how impure the purpose may have been for which

it has been used. On the other hand, they are very fond of milk, and

no Panjâbi woman likes her child to leave the house after drinking

fresh milk. If she cannot prevent it from going, she puts some salt

or ashes into its mouth to scare the Bhût. [479]

Posture of Bhûts.

Bhûts can never sit on the ground, apparently, because, as has been

shown already, the earth, personified as a goddess, scares away all

evil influence. Hence, near the low-caste shrines a couple of pegs

or bricks are set up for the Bhût to rest on, or a bamboo is hung

over it, on which the Bhût perches when he visits the place. [480]

On the same principle the Orâons hang up the cinerary urn containing

the bones of a dead man on a post in front of the house, [481] and

the person who is going on a pilgrimage, or conveying the bones of a

relative to the Ganges, sleeps on the ground; but the bones must not

rest on the ground; they are hung on the branch of a tree, so that

their late owner may revisit them if so disposed. Near shrines where

Bhûts are always about on the chance of appropriating the offerings,

it is expedient to sleep on the ground. So the bride and bridegroom

rest, and the dying man is laid at the moment of dissolution.

Tests of Bhûts.

There are at least three infallible tests by which you may

recognize a Bhût. In the first place he casts no shadow. In the

third Canto of the Purgatorio, Dante is much distressed because

Virgil, being a disembodied spirit, casts no shadow. In the second

place a Bhût can stand almost anything in his neighbourhood but the

scent of burning turmeric, which, as we shall see, is a well-known

demon-scarer. Thirdly, a genuine Bhût always speaks with a nasal twang,

and it is possibly for this last reason that the term for the gibberish

in the mediæval plays and for modern English is Pisâcha Bhâsha, or

the language of goblins. [482] Some of them have throats as narrow

as a needle, but they can drink gallons of water at a time. Some,

like the Churel, whom we shall meet later on, have their feet turned

backwards. Some, like Brâhman ghosts, are wheat-coloured or white;

others, like the Kâfari, the ghost of a murdered negro, are black,

and particularly dreaded. A famous ghost of this class haunts a lane

in Calcutta, which takes its name from him.

Spirit Lovers.

Many denizens of the spirit land have connection with mortals. We

have the cycle of folk-tales known as that of the Swan maidens.

Urvasî came and lived with Parûravas until he broke the curiosity

taboo. We shall see instances where Indra gives one of his fairies to

a mortal lover, and spirits like the Incubi and Succubi of European

folk-lore can be brought down by incantation.

Spirit Entries: The Head.

Spirits enter and leave the body in various ways. They often use the

head in this way, and in particular the tenth aperture of the body,

one of the skull sutures, known as Brahma-randhra. This is the reason

why the skull is broken at cremation to open the "crevice of Brahma,"

as this orifice is called.

In the case of one of the ascetic orders, who are buried and not

cremated, a blow is given on the head with a cocoanut or a conch

shell. Thus, when the chief teacher of the Brâhmans in Bombay dies,

his successor breaks a cocoanut on his skull and makes an opening,

in which the sacred Sâlagrâma stone is laid. [483] This rite of

skull-breaking, which is done by the next relation, is a recognized

part of the Hindu cremation rite, and is known as Kapâlakriya.

The same theory that the head is an entry for spirits accounts for

numerous strange practices. Thus, when in Kumaun a man is bitten

by a snake they pull three hairs from his scalp-lock and strike

him three times on the top of the head with the first joint of the

middle finger, a kind of blow which in ordinary cases is regarded

with the utmost terror. So when a person has fever, they take a bone

and fill it with grain, and, making the patient stand in the sun, dig

a hole where the shadow of his head falls, and there bury the bone,

saying, "Fever! Begone with the bone!" [484] At a Gond wedding, the

old man who officiates knocks the heads of the bride and bridegroom

together to scare the evil spirits, [485] and at a Hindu marriage

in Northern India the mother of the youth, as he leaves to fetch

his bride, and as he returns with her, waves lamps, a brass tray,

grain, and a rice pounder, to drive off the Bhûts fluttering round

his head. It is on the same principle that the bridegroom wears a

marriage crown, and this also accounts for many of the customs of

blessing by the laying on of hands and anointing which prevail all

over the world. In the same way the hair has always been regarded

as a spirit entry. Magistrates in Northern India are often troubled

by people who announce their intention of "letting their hair grow"

at some one whom they desire to injure. This, if one can judge by

the manifest terror exhibited by the person against whom this rite

is directed, must be a very stringent form of coercion. For the same

reason ascetics wear the hair loose and keep it uncut, as Sampson

did, and the same idea probably accounts for the rites of ceremonial

shaving of youths, and of the mourners after death.

The Mouth.

As might have been expected, Bhûts are very fond of entering by the

mouth. Hence arise much of the mouth-washing which is part of the

daily ritual of the Hindu, and many of the elaborate precautions which

he takes at meals. This will be referred to again in connection with

the Evil Eye.

Yawning.

Hence it is very dangerous to yawn, as two kinds of danger are to

be apprehended--either a Bhût may go down your throat, or part of

your soul may escape, and you will be hard set to recover it. So if

you chance to yawn, you should put your hand to your mouth and say

Nârâyan--"Great God!" afterwards, or you should crack your fingers,

which scares the evil spirit. This idea is the common property of

folk-lore. [486]

Sneezing.

So, sneezing is due to demoniacal influence, but opinions differ as

to whether it is caused by a Bhût entering or leaving the nose. The

latter view is generally taken by Musalmâns, because it is one of the

traditions of the Prophet that the nose should be washed out with

water, as the devil resides in it during the night. The sneezing

superstition in India is at least as old as the Buddhist Jâtakas,

where we have a remarkable tale about it, which describes how the

future Buddha and his father Gagga went to pass the night in a place

haunted by a Yakkha, or Yaksha, and were very near being devoured by

him because they did not say the spell "Live!" when they sneezed. [487]

So, in Somadeva's tale of Sulochana and Sushena, the spirit of the

air says, "When he enters into his private apartments, he shall sneeze

a hundred times; and if some one there does not say to him a hundred

times, 'God bless you,' he shall fall into the grasp of death." [488]

It is needless to say that the same belief prevails in Europe. As

Dr. Tylor says, "Even the Emperor Tiberius, that saddest of men,

exacted this observance." According to the Muhammadan rule, if a

person sneezes and then says immediately afterwards, Al-hamdu li'llah,

"God be praised," it is incumbent upon at least one of the party to

reply, Yarhamu-ka 'llah, just as among the Jews the sneezing formula

was Tobkin Khayim, "Good life!"

On the whole, sneezing is considered auspicious, because it implies

the expulsion of a Bhût. As a general rule, if a person sneezes

when another is beginning some work, the latter stops for a while,

and then begins afresh; if there be two sneezes in succession, there

is no necessity for interruption. If a man sneezes behind the back

of another, the back of the latter is slightly pinched. In Bombay,

if a man sneezes during a meal, one of the party calls on him to

name his birthplace. [489] The threshold in the folk-lore of all

nations is regarded as a sacred place. It is here, according to the

Scotch and Irish belief, that the house fairies reside. Sitting

on the threshold is believed by Indian matrons likely to produce

boils in children in that part of the body which touches it, and it

is thought most unlucky to sneeze on the threshold. On the whole,

one sneeze is ominous, while after two work may be commenced with

safety. So it was in the days of Homer--"Even so she spoke, and

Telemachus sneezed loudly, and around the roof rang wondrously,

and Penelope laughed, and straightway spoke Eumoeus winged words,

'Go! call me the stranger, even so into my presence. Dost thou not

mark how my son has sneezed a blessing on all my words?'" [490]

The Hands and Feet.

The hands and feet are also means by which Bhûts enter the body. Hence

much of the ablution at prayers and meals; the hand-clapping which

accompanies so many religious and mystical rites; the passing of the

hand over the head; the laying of the hands on the eyes to restore

sight, of which we have many examples in the Indian folk-tales;

the hand-pledging at marriages; the drinking of the Charan-amrita,

or water, in which the feet of a holy man have been washed; the

ceremonial washing of the feet of the bridegroom at a wedding by

the father of the bride. The stock case of the danger of the not

washing the feet at night is that of Adilî, whose impurity allowed

Indra to form the Maruts out of her embryo. A man with flat feet is

considered most unlucky, as in North England, where if you meet a

flat-soled man on Monday you are advised to go home, eat and drink,

or evil will befall you. [491] The chief basis of feet-washing is the

idea that a person coming from abroad and not immediately carrying

out the required ablution runs the risk of bringing some foreign,

and presumably dangerous, spirit with him.

The Ears.

And so with the ears, which are believed to communicate direct with

the brain, and are kept by the rustic carefully muffled up on chilly

mornings. Hence the custom of Kanchhedan, or ear-piercing, which is

in Northern India about the only survival of the world-wide rite of

mutilation when males attain puberty, and of wearing ear-rings and

similar ornaments, which is habitual with all classes of Hindus,

and specialized among the Kanphata Jogis, who take their name from

this practice.

Varieties of Bhûts.

In Bengal the ordinary Bhût is a member of the Kshatriya, Vaisya,

or Sûdra class. The Brâhman Bhût, or Brahmadaitya, is quite another

variety. The ordinary Bhûts are as tall as palmyra trees, generally

thin and very black. They usually live on trees, except those which

the Brahmadaitya frequent. At night, and especially at the hour of

midnight, they wander about the fields frightening travellers. They

prefer dirty places to those which are clean; so when a person goes

to worship a Bhût, he does so in some dirty, retired place, and gives

him only half-cooked food, so that he may not have time to gobble

it up, and perchance rend his worshipper. They are never seen in

the temples of the gods, though they often, as we have seen, lurk

about in the vicinity in the hope of getting some of the offerings

if the priest be not on the alert and scare them with his bell or

shell-trumpet. They are always stark naked, and are fond of women,

whom they sometimes abduct. They eat rice, and all sorts of human

food, but their favourite diet is fish. Hence no Bengâli, except for

a considerable bribe, will talk about fish at night. Here they agree

with the fairies of Manxland. Professor Rhys [492] tells a story of a

Manx fisherman, who was taking a fresh fish home, and was pursued by a

pack of fairy dogs, so that it was only with great trouble he reached

his own door. He drove the dogs away with a stone, but he was shot by

the fairies, and had a narrow escape of his life. On the other hand,

the Small People in Cornwall hate the smell of fish as much as the

savour of salt or grease. [493] The best chance of escape from these

Bengal Bhûts is when they begin to quarrel among themselves. A person

beset by them should invoke the gods and goddesses, especially Kâlî,

Durgâ, and Siva, the last of whom is, as already noted, the Lord of

Bhûts. [494]

Bhûts are of many varieties. Vetâla, or Baitâl, their leader, is

familiar to everyone in the tales of the Baitâl Pachîsi. He is not,

as a rule, particularly offensive. More usually he is a vagrant Bhût

which enters the body of a man when the real spirit is absent. But

he often approximates to the Vampire as we meet him in Western

folk-lore. "It is as a vitalized corpse that the visitor from

the other world comes to trouble mankind, often subject to human

appetites, constantly endowed with more than human strength and

malignity." [495] Thus in one of Somadeva's stories the hero goes at

night to a cemetery and summons at the foot of a tree a Vetâla into

the body of a man, and after worshipping him, makes an oblation of

human flesh to him. In another there is a Vetâla with a body made up

of the limbs of many animals, who hurls the king to the earth, and

when he sits on the Vetâla's back the demon flies with him through

the air like a bird and flings him into the sea. [496] The spirit

entering the body of the dead man forms the leading incident in the

tale of Fadlallah in the Arabian Nights, and there are many instances

of it in Indian folk-lore. This disposes of the assertion which has

been sometimes made that among races which bury their dead little

is known of regular corpse spectres, or that they are special to

lands tenanted or influenced by the Slavonians. [497] Most usually

the Vetâla appears as the spirit of some living person dissatisfied

with his lodgings on earth, which leaves his own body and occupies a

corpse in preference. He, in company with the Vasus, Yakshas, Bhûtas,

and Gandharvas, has passed into the degraded Tantrika worship. [498]

The Pret.

The Hindu notion of the state of the soul between death and the

performance of the prescribed funeral rites agrees exactly with that

of the older European races. They wandered about in a state of unhappy

restlessness, and were not suffered to mix with the other dead. The

term Pret or Preta, which simply means "deceased" or "departed,"

represents the soul during this time. It wanders round its original

home, and, like the Bâlakhilyas, who surround the chariot of the

sun, is no larger than a man's thumb. The stages of his progress,

according to the best authorities, are that up to the performance of

the ten Pindas the dead man remains a Preta, through the Nârâyanabali

rite he becomes a Pisâcha, and by the Sapindikarana he reaches the

dignity of the Pitri or sainted dead. The term Preta is, however,

sometimes applied to the spirit of a deformed or crippled person,

or one defective in some limb or organ, or of a child who dies

prematurely owing to the omission of the prescribed ceremonies during

the formation of the embryo. Here it may be noted that there are

indications in India of the belief which is common among savages,

that young children, apparently in consequence of their incomplete

protection from the birth impurity, are under a taboo. Thus in India a

child is regarded as a Bhût until the birth hair is cut. Some of the

jungle tribes believe that it is unnecessary to protect a child from

evil spirits until it begins to eat grain, because up to that time

it is nothing more than a Bhût itself. Under the old ritual a child

under two years of age was not burnt, but buried, and no offering of

water was made to it. We are familiar with the same idea in England

regarding unbaptized children, whose spirits are supposed to be

responsible for the noise of Gabriel's Hounds in the sky, really

caused by the bean geese in their southern flight.

The Pret is occasionally under provocation malignant, but as it

partakes to some degree of the functions of the benign ancestral

household spirit, it is not necessarily malicious or evil-disposed

towards living persons. The Pret is specially worshipped at Gaya

on the Hill, known as Pretsila, or "the rock of the Pret," and a

special class of Brâhmans at Patna call themselves Pretiya, because

they worship the ghost of some hero or saint. [499]

The Pisâcha.

Next comes the Pisâcha, which, as we have seen, is by one account

only a stage in the progress of the soul to its final rest. But more

properly speaking it is an evil spirit produced by a man's vices,

the ghost of a liar, adulterer, or criminal of any kind, or of one who

has died insane. But his attributes and functions are not very clearly

defined, and he merges into the general class of Bhûts. In some cases

he seems to have the power to cure disease. Thus we read in Somadeva,

"Rise up in the last watch of the night, and with dishevelled hair,

and naked, and without rinsing your mouth, take two handfuls of rice

as large as you can grasp with the two hands, and, uttering a form

of words, go to a place where four roads meet and there place the

two handfuls of rice, and return in silence without looking behind

you. Do so always until that Pisâcha appears and says, 'I will put

an end to your ailment.' Then receive his aid gladly, and he will

remove your complaint." [500]

The Râkshasa.

The Râkshasa again, a word that means "the harmer" or "the destroyer,"

is of the ogre-vampire type. He goes about at night, haunts cemeteries,

disturbs sacrifices and devout men, animates dead bodies, even

devouring human beings, in which capacity he is known as Kravyâda,

or carnivorous, and is generally hostile to the human race. He is

emphatically a devourer of human flesh, and eats carrion. He is

often represented in the folk-tales as having a pretty daughter, who

protects the hero when he ventures perchance into the abode of the

monster. Her father comes in, and with the cry of "Manush gandha,"

which is equivalent to the "Fee! fo! fum! I smell the blood of an

Englishman!" of the Western tale, searches about, but fails to find

him. When Hanumân entered the city of Lanka in the form of a cat, to

reconnoitre, he saw that the Râkshasas who slept in the house "were

of every shape and form. Some of them disgusted the eye, while some

were beautiful to look on. Some had long arms and frightful shapes;

some were very fat and some were very lean; some were dwarf and some

were prodigiously tall. Some had only one eye, and others had only

one ear. Some had monstrous bellies, hanging breasts, long projecting

teeth, and crooked thighs; whilst others were exceedingly beautiful to

behold and clothed in great splendour. Some had the heads of serpents,

some the heads of asses, some of horses, and some of elephants." The

leader of them was Râvana, who is said to have been once a Brâhman and

to have been turned into a Râkshasa, "with twenty arms, copper-coloured

eyes, and bright teeth like the young moon. His form was as a thick

cloud or as a mountain, or the god of death with open mouth."

The Râkshasa is the great Deus ex machinâ of folk-lore. He can change

into almost any form he pleases, his breath is a roaring wind; he can

lengthen his arms to eighty miles; he can smell out human beings like

Giant Blunderbore. He can carry a man leagues through the air; if his

head be cut off, it grows again. He is the Eastern type of the monster

dragon which is subdued by St. George, Siegmund, Siegfried, or Beowulf.

His spouse, the Râkshasî, is a creature of much the same kind. In the

folk-tales she often takes the form of the ogress queen who marries

the king and gets up at night and devours an elephant, or two or

three horses, or some sheep or a camel, and then puts the blood and

scraps of meat at the doors of her rivals, and gets them banished,

until the clever lad discovers her wiles and brings her to condign

punishment. [501] Often she besets a city and demands the daily

tribute of a human victim. The king takes the place of the victim,

and the Râkshasî is so affected by his generosity that she abandons

eating the flesh of men. In a case in the folk-tales a boy becomes

a Râkshasa by eating the brains of a corpse. [502] Like all other

demons, Râkshasas are scared by light, and one of the names of the

lamp is Râkshogna, or "the destroyer of the Râkshasas."

The idea of the Râkshasa comes from the earliest times. Some have

thought them to be types of the early Drâvidian opponents of the

Hindus. Nirritî, the female personification of death, is a Râkshasa

deity in the Vedas, and Dr. Muir has traced the various stages

by which the Râkshasa was developed into a godling. [503] Thus,

in the Mahâbhârata, Jarâ is called a household goddess; the great

King Jarasandha was born in two halves, and Jarâ united them; she

is always represented as seeking to requite by benefits the worship

which is paid to her. Manu prescribes a special oblation for "the

spirits which walk in darkness." The blood in the sacrifice is,

according to the old ritual, offered to them, though even here we

notice the transition from animal to corn offerings. [504]

Nowadays Râkshasas live in trees and cause vomiting and indigestion

to those who trespass on their domains at night. They mislead night

travellers like Will-o'-the-Wisp, and they are always greedy and in

quest of food. So, if a man is eating by lamp-light and the light

goes out, he will cover the dish with his hands, which are, as we

have already seen, scarers of demons, to preserve the food from the

Râkshasa, and Bengal women go at night with a lamp into every room

to expel the evil spirits. [505]

The Râkshasas are said to be always fighting with the gods and

their blood remains on many of these ghostly battlefields. In the

Hills this is believed to be the cause of the red ferruginous clay

which is occasionally observed, and the Lohû or "blood-red" river

has a similar origin. [506] The same idea appears in the folk-lore of

Europe. In a Swabian legend the red colour of shoots of rye when they

first appear above the surface is attributed to Cain having killed Abel

in a rye-field, which thus became reddened with innocent blood. [507]

One species of feathered pink has a dark purple spot in it which people

in Germany say is a drop of the blood of the Redeemer which fell from

the Cross. [508] In one of the Irish Sagas the blood of a murdered man

fell on a white stone and formed the red veins which are still shown

to the traveller. [509] In Cornwall a red stain on the rocks marks

where giant Bolster died, and the red lichen in a brook commemorates a

murder. [510] Every English child knows the legend of Robin Redbreast.

In folk-lore Râkshasas have kingdoms, and possess enormous riches,

which they bestow on those whom they favour, like Târâ Bâî in the story

of Seventee Bâî. In this they resemble the Irish fairies, who hide away

much treasure in their palaces underneath the hills and in the lakes

and sea. "All the treasure of wrecked ships is theirs; and all the gold

that men have hidden or buried in the earth when danger was on them,

and then died and left no sign to their descendants. And all the gold

of the mine and the jewels of the rocks belong to them, and in the

Sifra or fairy house the walls are silver and the pavement is gold,

and the banquet hall is lit by the diamonds that stud the rocks." [511]

The finger nails of the Râkshasas, as those of Europeans in

popular belief, are a deadly poison, and the touch of them produces

insensibility, or even death. They often take the disguise of old women

and have very long hair, which is a potent charm. Their malignity is

so great that it would be difficult to avoid them, but fortunately,

like the Devil in the European tales, and evil spirits all the world

over, they are usually fools, and readily disclose the secrets of

their enchantment to the distressed heroine who is unlucky enough to

fall into their power, and the victim has generally only to address

the monster as "Uncle!" to escape from his clutches. [512]

They are, as has been said already, usually cannibals. One of these

was Vaka in the Mahâbhârata, who lived at Ekachakra and levied a

daily toll of food and human victims on the Râja till he was torn

to pieces by Bhîma. Bhîma also contrived to kill another monster of

the same kind named Hidimba. In the great Panjâb legend of Rasâlu,

he conquers the seven Râkshasas, who used to eat a human being every

day, and there is a Nepâl story of the Râkshasa Gurung Mâpa, who used

to eat corpses. He was propitiated with a grant of land to live on

and an annual offering of a buffalo and some rice. [513]

Power of Lengthening Themselves.

All ghosts, as we shall see later on, have the power of lengthening

themselves like the Naugaza, whom we have already mentioned. For

this reason demons, as a rule, are of gigantic form, and many of the

enormous fossil bones found in the Siwâlik Hills were confidently

attributed to the Râkshasas, which reminds us of the story of the

smith in Herodotus who found the gigantic coffin seven cubits long

containing the bones of Orestes. [514]

Night Spirits.

Like the ghost in Hamlet, the angel that visited Jacob, and the

destroying angels of Sodom, the Râkshasas always fly before the

dawn. They invariably travel through the air and keep their souls in

birds or trees--a fertile element in folk-lore which has been called

by Major Temple "The Life Index." [515]

Râkshasas as Builders.

The tales of Western lands abound with instances of buildings, bridges,

etc., constructed by the Devil. So the Indian Râkshasa is commonly

regarded as an architect. Thus, at Râmtek in the Central Provinces

there is a curious old temple built of hewn stones, well fitted

together without mortar. From its shape and structure it is probably

of Jaina origin, though local tradition connects it with the name of

Hemâdpant, the Râkshasa. He is an example of Râkshasas developed in

comparatively recent times from a historical personage. He was probably

the Minister of Mahâdeva (1260-1271 A.D.), the fourth of the Yâdava

Kings of Deogiri. According to the common story, he was a giant or a

physician, who brought the current Marâthi character from Ceylon. The

Dakkhin swarms with ancient buildings attributed to him. [516]

Such is also the case with another class of demons, the Asuras,

a word which means "spiritual" or "superhuman," who were the rivals

of the gods. In Mirzapur the ancient embankment at the Karsota tank

is considered to be their work. Once upon a time two of these demons

vowed that whoever first succeeded in building a fort should be the

conqueror, and that his defeated rival should lose his life. So

they set to work in the evening, one on the Bijaygarh Hill, and

the other on the opposite peak of Kundakot, about twelve miles

distant. The demon of Bijaygarh, having lost his tools in the dark,

struck a light to search for them. His adversary seeing the light,

and imagining that the sun was rising and his rival's work completed,

fled precipitously. The Bijaygarh fort was completed during the night

and stands to the present day, while on Kundakot you see only a few

enormous blocks of stone which was all the vanquished Asura had time

to collect. The tales of demons interfering with the construction of

buildings are common in European folk-lore.

Many other buildings are said to have been built in the same way. The

Bârahkhamba at Shikârpur in the Bulandshahr District was built by

demons; Baliya in Pilibhît was the work of Bali, the Daitya; the

demon Loha or Lohajangha built Lohâban in Mathura. [517] In the same

way the Cornish giants built chiefly in granite, and the Hack and

Cast embankment was constructed by them. [518] In Patna the Asura

Jarâsandha is the reputed builder of an enormous embankment which is

called Asuren after him, and another demon of the same class is said

to be the architect of an ancient fortification in Puraniya. [519]

Many buildings, again, are attributed to personages who succeeded in

getting an Asura under their influence, and being obliged to find

work for him, compelled him to occupy his time in architecture. In

the "Lay of the Last Minstrel" Michael Scott got out of the dilemma

by making the demons twist ropes of sand, and the same tale is told

of Tregeagle in Cornwall. [520]

Modern Râkshasas.

Râkshasas are developed even in these prosaic days of ours. In the

folk-tales many human beings lie under the well-founded suspicion

of being Asuras or Râkshasas. [521] The ghost of some Musalmâns is

believed by some Hindus to become a most malignant Râkshasa. Such a

ghost is conciliated by being addressed by the euphemistic title of

Mamduh, "the praised one." Visaladeva, the famous King of Ajmer, was

turned into a Râkshasa on account of his oppression of his subjects,

in which condition he resumed the evil work of his earthly existence,

"devouring his subjects," until one of his grandchildren offered

himself as a victim to appease his hitherto insatiable appetite. "The

language of innocent affection," says Col. Tod, "made its way to the

heart of the Râkshasa, who recognized his offspring, and winged his

flight to the Jumnâ." [522]

Young men who are obliged to travel at night have reason to be

cautious of the Râkshasî, as well as of the Churel, with whom she

is occasionally identified. She takes the form of a lovely woman and

lures her victims to destruction.

Brâhman Ghosts.

We have already mentioned the Brahm or malignant Brâhman ghost. These

often develop into Râkshasas, and are a particularly dangerous

species. Thus the sept of Gaur Râjputs are haunted by the Râkshasa

or ghost of the Brâhman Mansa Râm, who, on account of the tyranny

of the Râja Tej Sinh, committed suicide. He lives in a tree in a

fort in the Sîtapur District, and no marriage or any other important

business in the family of the Râja is undertaken until he has been duly

propitiated. [523] So, at the mound of Bilsar in the Etah District,

there lived a Râja whose house overlooked that of a Brâhman named

Pûran Mall. The Brâhman asked the Râja to change the position of his

sitting-room, as it was inconvenient to the ladies of his family,

and when the request was refused, poisoned himself with a dose

of opium. His body turned blue like indigo, and he became a most

malignant demon or Bîr, known as the Brahm Râkshasa, which caused

the death of the Râja and his family, and forced his successors to

remove to a distance from their original family residence.

The Deo.

Closely connected with the Râkshasas are various classes of demons,

known as Deo, Dâno, or Bîr. The Deo is a survival of the Devas or

"shining ones" of the old mythology. It is another of the terms

which have suffered grievous degradation. It was originally applied

to the thirty-three great divinities, eleven of which inhabited each

of the three worlds. Now the term represents a vague class of the

demon-ogre family. The Deo is a cannibal, and were he not exceedingly

stupid could do much harm, but in the folk-tales he is always being

deceived in the most silly way. He has long lips, one of which sticks

up in the air, while the other hangs down pendant. Like many of his

kinsfolk all over the world, he is a potent cause of tempests. [524]

The Bîr.

The Bîr, who takes his name from the Sanskrit Vîra, "hero," is a

very malignant village demon. In one of the Mirzapur villages is

the shrine of Kharbar Bîr, or "the noisy hero." No one can give any

satisfactory account of him, but it is quite certain that if he is not

propitiated by the Baiga, he brings disease on men and cattle. Gendâ

Bîr, a woman who was tired of life, and, instead of burning herself,

threw herself down from a tree, is worshipped at Nâgpur. [525] Kerâr

Bîr has, according to the last census returns, thirty-one thousand

worshippers in the eastern districts of the North-West Provinces. He

is said to have been a demon who resided on the spot where the present

fort of Jaunpur now stands. He became such a pest to the country about,

that the great Râma Chandra warred against him and overcame him. His

head and limbs he flung to the four corners of heaven, and his trunk

in the form of a shapeless mass of stone remains as a memorial and is

worshipped. Some allege that he was really some hero of the aboriginal

Bhar race who fell in battle with the Aryan. It is also alleged that

when the British engineers attempted to blow down the fort their

mines failed to disturb the shrine of Kerâr, whose importance has

been much increased by this example of his prowess. [526] In Bombay

there are seven Bîrs who go about together and scour the fields and

gardens at night. [527]

The Dâno.

The Dâno represents the Dânava of the early mythology. Of these

there are seven also, and the leader of them is Vritra, who is

the ancestor of the dragons and keeps back and steals the heavenly

waters, on which account Indra slays him with his thunderbolt. Vala,

the cave in which the rain cows are hidden, is called the brother of

Vritra. No trace remains now of this beautiful weather myth. The Dâno

nowadays is hardly to be distinguished from the Bîr and his brethren,

and at Hazâribâgh he is worshipped in the form of a stone daubed with

five streaks of red lead and set up outside the house. [528]

The Daitya.

So with the Dait or Daitya, who is connected in nothing but name with

the demons of the olden world who warred with the gods. In Mirzapur he

lives in a tree; in front he looks like a man, but seen from behind

he is quite hollow, only a mere husk without a backbone. In this

he resembles the Ellekone of Denmark, who is beautiful in front, but

hollow in the back like a kneading trough. [529] So the Hadal or Hedali

of Bombay is said to be plump in front and a skeleton behind. [530]

At midnight the Daitya shows himself in his tree in a flash of fire and

smoke, and sometimes flies off to another tree a short distance off.

In Mirzapur he is sometimes known as Daitra Bîr and is associated

with two others named Akata Bîr and Latora Bîr, all of whom live

in trees and go out at night and dance for a while with torches

in their hands. They are worshipped with an offering consisting of

the Kalsa or holy water-pots and some greens. [531] In one village

the Daitya is known as Beohâr Bâba or the "father of merchandise,"

as he is supposed in some way to guard merchants. Col. Tod describes

a place in the table-land of Central India known as Daitya kâ har or

"the demon's bone," on which those who are in search of ease jump from

above. Although most of the leapers perish, some instances of escape

are recorded. The hope of obtaining offspring is said to be the most

usual motive for the act. [532] Instances of religious suicides are

common. One of the most famous places for this is behind the peak

of Kedâr, where the Pândavas devoted themselves and were carried off

to heaven. The practice seems to have almost completely ceased under

British rule.

The Headless Horseman.

At the present time the most dreaded of these creatures is, perhaps,

the Headless Horseman, who is popularly known as Dûnd, or "truncated."

He has many of his kindred in other lands. Sir Francis Drake used

to drive a hearse into Plymouth with headless horses and followed

by yelling hounds. Coluinn gun Cheann of the Highlands goes about

a headless trunk. A coach without horses used to career about the

neighbourhood of Listowel when any misfortune was about to take

place. A monster in one of the German tales carries about his head

under his arm. [533]

By one account the Dûnd took his origin from the wars of the

Mahâbhârata. However this may be, he appears periodically in the form

of a headless trunk seated on horseback, with his head tied before him

on the pommel of the saddle. He makes his rounds at night and calls

to the householder from outside; but woe to any one who answers him,

for this means death. The belief in these visionary death summonses is

very common. The Irish Banshee howls at night and announces death. In

Mirzapur, Bâghesar, or the tiger demon, lives on the Churni Hill. He

sometimes comes down at night in human form, and calls people by name

at their doors. If any one answers him he becomes sick. The Bengâli

personifies Nisi or Night as the Homeric Greeks did. [534] She often

comes at midnight, calls the house-master, who when he opens the door

falls senseless and follows her where she will. Sometimes she takes

him into a tank and drowns him, or leads him into a dense forest and

drops him among thorns or on the top of some high tree. In fact it is

always very dangerous to speak to these spirits or ghosts. Falstaff

knew this well when he said, "They are fairies; he that speaks to

them shall die."

The Dûnd makes occasional incursions throughout the country. He was

in the neighbourhood of Agra in 1882, and some twelve years after

appeared in Mirzapur. On both occasions the news of his arrival caused

considerable alarm. Every one shut up their houses at sunset, and

no one on any consideration would answer a call from outside after

nightfall. It was shrewdly suspected at the time that this rumour

was spread by some professional burglar who made a harvest while the

scare lasted.

Somewhat akin to the Dûnd is the spectral Râja of Bûndi who

occasionally appears in the neighbourhood of Sahâranpur. Some years

ago a Brâhman astrologer heard some one calling him from outside

one night. When he answered the summons he was told that the Râja

of Bûndi wanted to have his horoscope examined and was then encamped

near the town. The Pandit proceeded to the place with the guide and

saw a splendid encampment, and the Râja in his royal robes sitting

in a tent ornamented with pearls. When he saw him the unfortunate

astrologer knew that he was a Râkshasa, and he was the more convinced

of this when he examined his horoscope and found that he was fated

to live for ever. He told the Râja that his life would be long and

prosperous, and after receiving three gold coins as his fee went home

more dead than alive. Next morning he went to the place, but could

find no sign of the camp, and when he looked in his box the coins

were found to have disappeared.

There are numerous other versions of the Headless Horseman story

in Northern India. In a fight at Khândesh the Gâoli prince engaged

in personal conflict with the saint Sayyid Saadat Pîr, and struck

off his head. The headless body continued to fight, and the Hindu

army fled in panic. The trunk then snatched up the head and led the

victorious troops to a neighbouring hill, where the earth opened

and swallowed it. [535] So, in Oudh, Malik Ambar, the companion of

Sâlâr Masaud, was, it is said, killed with his master at Bahrâich,

but wandering back from Bijnor, a headless trunk on horseback, he at

length reached the place where his tomb now stands, when the earth

opened and received him and his horse. [536]

The Dûnd is apparently a close relation of the Skandhahâta of Bengal,

who goes about with his head cut off from the shoulders. He dwells in

low moist lands outside a village, in bogs and fens, and goes about

in the dark, rolling about on the ground, with his long arms stretched

out. Woe betide the belated peasant who falls within his grasp. [537]

The Ghostly Army.

Closely connected with this are the numerous legends of the Ghostly

Army. Thus, at Faizâbâd, the country people point out a portion of

the Queen's highway along which they will not pass at night. They say

that after dark the road is thronged with troops of headless horsemen,

the dead of the army of Prince Sayyid Sâlâr. The great host moves on

with a noiseless tread; the ghostly horses make no sound; and no words

of command are shouted to the headless squadrons. Another version

comes from Ajmer. There for some time past a troop of four or five

hundred horsemen, armed and dressed in green, issue from a valley in

the neighbourhood of the city, and after riding about for some time,

mysteriously disappear. They are believed to be the escort of the

Imâm Husain, whose tragical fate is commemorated at the Muharram.

The same idea prevails all through India, and indeed all the world

over. The persons killed at a recent disastrous railway accident haunt

the locality, and have caused the breakdown of other trains at the same

place. [538] The ghosts of the battle of Chiliânwâla began to appear

very shortly after the battle, and Abul Fazl mentions the ghosts of

Pânipat in the days of Akbar. [539] In America the anniversaries of the

battles of Bunker's Hill, Concord, Saratoga, and even as late as that

of Gettysburg, are celebrated by spectral armies, who fight by night

the conflict o'er again. [540] If you walk nine times round Neville's

Cross, you will hear the noise of the battle and the clash of armour,

and the same tale is told of the battle of Marathon, which a recent

prosaic authority attributes to the beating of the waves on the shore,

while others say that these spectral armies of the sky are nothing more

than wild geese or other migratory birds calling in the darkness. [541]

Masân.

Masân, the modern form of the Sanskrit Smasâna, "a place of cremation,"

is the general term for those evil spirits which haunt the place

where they were forced to abandon their tenements of clay. So the

modern Italian Lemuri are the spirits of the churchyard and represent

the Lemures or Larvæ, the unhappy ghosts of those who have died evil

deaths or under a ban, to which there are innumerable allusions in

the Latin writers. [542] In India Masân is very generally regarded

as the ghost of a child, and we have already seen that some tribes

regard an infant as a Bhût. He is occasionally the ghost of a low-caste

man, very often that of an oilman, who, possibly from the dirt which

accompanies his trade, is considered ill-omened. By another account

such ghosts prowl about in villages in the Hills in the form of

bears and other wild animals. [543] Others say that Masân is of black

and hideous appearance, comes from the ashes of a funeral pyre, and

chases people as they pass by. Some die of fright from his attacks,

others linger for a few days, and some even go mad. "When a person

becomes possessed of Masân, the people invoke the beneficent spirit of

the house to come and take possession of some member of the family,

and all begin to dance. At length some one works himself up into a

state of frenzy, and commences to torture and belabour the body of the

person possessed by Masân, until at length a cure is effected, or the

patient perishes under this drastic treatment." Khabish resembles Masân

in his malignant nature and his fondness for burial grounds. He is

also met with in dark glens and forests in various shapes. Sometimes

he imitates the bellow of a buffalo, or the cry of a goatherd or

neatherd, and sometimes he grunts like a pig. At other times he

assumes the disguise of a religious mendicant and joins travellers

on their way; but his conversation is, like that of ordinary Bhûts,

always unintelligible. Like Masân, he often frightens people and

makes them ill, and sometimes possesses unfortunate travellers who

get benighted. [544]

Children afflicted by Masân are said to be "under his shadow" (chhâya),

and waste away by a sort of consumption. Here we have another instance

of the principle already referred to, that the shadow represents the

actual soul. [545] This malady is believed to be due to some enemy

flinging the ashes from a funeral pyre over the child. The remedy in

such cases is to weigh the child in salt, a well-known demon scarer,

and give it away in charity. The cremation ground and the bones

and ashes which it contains are constantly used in various kinds

of magical rites. It is believed when thieves enter a house, that

they throw over the inmates some Masân or ashes from a pyre and make

them unconscious while the robbery is going on. This resembles the

English "Hand of Glory," to which reference will be made in another

connection. As to the influence by means of the shadow, it may be

noted that a Nepâl legend describes how a Lâma arrested the flight

of a Brâhman by piercing his shadow with a spear, and the Râkshasî

Sinhikâ used to seize the shadow of the object she desired to devour

and so drag the prey into her jaws. [546]

Tola.

Tola is a sort of "Will-o'-the-Wisp" in the Hills. According to one

account, he is, like the Gayâl, of whom we have spoken already, the

ghost of a bachelor, and other ghosts refuse to associate with him;

so he is seen only in wild and solitary places. Others say that he

belongs to the class of children ghosts, who have died too young

to undergo the rites of tonsure or cremation. They are, as a rule,

harmless, and are not much dreaded. After a child undergoes the

specified religious ceremonies, its soul is matured, and fitted

either to join the spirits of the sainted dead or to assume a new

existence by transmigration. The estate of the Tola is only temporary,

and after a time, it, too, enters another form of existence. [547]

Airi.

Another famous Hill Bhût is Airi. He is the ghost of some one who

was killed in hunting. We have many instances of these huntsmen

ghosts, of which the most familiar example is the European legend of

the Wild Huntsman, who haunts the forest in which he used to hunt,

and is sometimes heard hallooing to his dogs. So in Cornwall Dando

rides about accompanied with his hounds. [548] The British fairies

ride at night on horses which they steal from the stables, and in the

morning the poor beasts are found covered with sweat and foam. [549]

In Southern India Aiyanâr rides about the land at night on a wild

elephant, sword in hand, and surrounded by torch-bearers, to clear

the country from all obnoxious spirits. [550]

The companions of Airi are fairies, who, like the Churel, have their

feet turned backwards. He is accompanied by two litter-bearers

and a pack of hounds with bells round their necks. Whoever hears

their bark is certain to meet with calamity. Airi is much given to

expectoration, and his saliva is so venomous that it wounds those on

whom it falls. Incantations must be used and the affected part rubbed

with the branch of a tree. If this be not done at once, the injured

man dies, and in any case he must abstain from rich food for several

days. We shall meet again with the magical power of spittle. Here

it may be noted that in Western folk-lore it confers the power of

seeing spirits.

"Those who see Airi face to face are burnt up by the flash of his eye,

or are torn to pieces by his dogs, or have their livers extracted

and eaten by the fairies who accompany him. But should any one be

fortunate enough to survive, the Bhût discloses hidden treasures to

him. The treasure-trove thus disclosed varies in value from gold

coins to old bones. His temples are always in deserted places. A

trident represents the god, and a number of surrounding stones

his followers. He is worshipped once a year by lighting a bonfire,

round which all the people sit. A kettle-drum is played, and one after

another they become possessed, and leap and shout round the fire. Some

brand themselves with heated iron spoons, and sit in the flames. Those

who escape burning are believed to be truly possessed, while those

who are burned are considered mere pretenders to divine frenzy." [551]

This closely resembles the worship of Râhu already described.

"The revels usually last for about ten nights, and until they are

ended, a lamp is kept burning at the shrine of the god. Those possessed

dye a yard of cloth in red ochre and bind it round their heads, and

carry a wallet in which they place the alms they receive. While in this

state they bathe twice, and eat but once in the twenty-four hours. They

allow no one to touch them, as they consider other men unclean, and

no one but themselves is permitted to touch the trident and stones in

Airi's temple, at least as long as the festival lasts. The offerings,

goats, milk, etc., are consumed by the worshippers. The kid is marked

on the forehead with red, and rice and water are thrown over him. If he

shakes himself to get rid of it, the god has accepted the offering,

whereupon his head is severed with a knife. If he does not shake

himself, or bleats, it is a sign that the offering is not accepted,

and the victim escapes."

The same rule of testing the suitability of the sacrifice prevailed

among the Greeks. The same practice prevails among other tribes. Thus,

the Bâwariyas, when they sacrifice a goat, take a little water in the

palm of the hand and pour it on the nose of the victim. If it shiver,

its head is cut off with a single blow of a sword. The rule has

elsewhere received a further development. Thus when the Râo of Cutch

sacrifices a buffalo, "as it stoops to eat, a few drops of water are

scattered between its horns. If it shake its head it is led away as

displeasing to the goddess; if it nods its head a glittering scimitar

descends on its neck." [552]

Hill Demons.

Other Bhûts in the Hills are Acheri, the ghosts of little girls,

who live on the tops of mountains, but descend at night to hold their

revels in more convenient places. To fall in with their train is fatal,

and they have a particular antipathy to red colour. When little girls

fall suddenly ill, the Acheri is supposed to have cast her shadow

over them. The Deo are the regular demons already described; some are

obnoxious to men, some to cattle. The Rûniya moves about at night and

uses a huge rock as his steed, the clattering of which announces his

approach. He is the demon of the avalanche and landslip. Should he

take a fancy to a woman, she is haunted by his spirit in her dreams,

and gradually wasting away, finally falls a victim to her passion. He

thus resembles the Faun and the Satyr, the Incubus and Succubus,

against whose wiles and fascination the Roman maiden was warned. [553]

Birth Fiends.

Another of these night fiends is the Jilaiya of Bihâr, which takes the

shape of a night bird, and is able to suck the blood of any person

whose name it hears. Hence women are very careful not to call their

children at night. It is believed that if this bird fly over the head

of a pregnant woman her child will be born a weakling. [554]

Hence it closely approximates to the birth fiends which beset the

mother and child during the period of impurity after parturition. Thus

the Orâons of Chota Nâgpur believe that the fiend Chordevan comes

in the form of a cat and tears the mother's womb. [555] The Brâhman,

Prabhu, and other high-caste women of Bombay believe that on the fifth

and sixth night after birth the mother and child are liable to be

attacked by the birth spirit Satvâî, who comes in the shape of a cat

or a hen. Consequently they keep a watch in the lying-in room during

the whole night, passing the time in playing, singing and talking

to scare the fiend. The Marâthas of Nâsik believe that on the fifth

night, at about twelve o'clock, the spirit Sathî, accompanied by a

male fiend, called Burmiya, comes to the lying-in room, and making

the mother insensible, either kills or disfigures the child. The

Vadâls of Thâna think that on the fifth night the birth spirit Sathî

comes in the form of a cat, hen, or dog, and devours the heart and

skull of the child. They therefore surround the bed with strands of

a creeper, place an iron knife or scythe on the mother's cot, fire

in an iron bickern at the entrance of the lying-in room, and keep a

watch for the night. The customs all through Northern India are very

much of the same type. It is essential that the fire should be kept

constantly burning, lest the spirit of evil, stepping over the cold

ashes, should enter and make its fatal mark on the forehead of the

child. The whole belief turns on the fear of infantile lockjaw, which

is caused by the use of foul implements in cutting the umbilical cord

and the neglect of all sanitary precautions. It usually comes between

the fifth and twelfth day, and as Satvâî, or the Chhathî of Northern

India, has been raised to the dignity of a goddess. All this is akin

to the belief in fairy changelings and the malignant influences which

surround the European mother and her child. [556]

The Parî and Jinn.

Little reference has yet been made to the Parî or fairies, or the

Jinn or genii, because they are, in their present state at least, of

exotic origin, though their original basis was possibly laid on Indian

soil. Thus we have the Apsaras, who in name at least, "moving in the

water," is akin to Aphrodite. They appear only faintly in the Veda

as the nymphs of Indra's heaven, and the chief of them is Urvasî, to

whom reference has been already made. Two of them, Rambhâ and Menakâ,

are shown as luring austere sages from their devotions, as in the

Irish legend of Glendalough. They are the wives or mistresses of the

Gandharvas, the singers and musicians who attend the banquets of the

gods. Indra in the Rig Veda is the giver of women, and he provides

one of his aged friends with a young wife. [557] Rambhâ, one of the

fairies of his court, appears constantly in the tales of Somadeva, and

descends in human form to the arms of her earthly lovers, as Titania

with Bottom in the "Midsummer Night's Dream." Their successor in the

modern tales is Shâhpasand, "The beloved of the king," who takes the

shape of a pigeon and kisses the beautiful hero. In one of the stories

which appears in many forms, the youth with the help of a Faqîr finds

his way to the dance of Râja Indra, takes the place of his drummer,

and wins the fairy, whom he identifies in spite of the many schemes

which the jovial god invents to deceive him. These ladies are all of

surpassing beauty, skilled in music and the dance, with white skins,

and always dressed in red.

With the Jinn we reach a chapter of folk-lore of great extent and

complexity. They are probably in origin closely allied to the Râkshasa,

Deo and his kindred. [558] They are usually divided into the Jann,

who are the least powerful of all the Jinn, the Shaitân or Satan

of the Hebrews, the Ifrît and the Mârid, the last of whom rules

the rest. The Jann, according to the Prophet, were created out of a

smokeless fire. The Jann is sometimes identified with the serpent,

and sometimes with Iblîs, who has been imported direct from the Greek

Diabolos. The Jinn were the pre-Adamite rulers of the world, and for

their sins were overcome by the angels, taken prisoners and driven to

distant islands. They appear as serpents, lions, wolves or jackals. One

kind rules the land, another the air, a third the sea. There are forty

troops of them, each consisting of six hundred thousand. Some have

wings and fly, others move like snakes and dogs, others go about like

men. They are of gigantic stature, sometimes resplendently handsome,

sometimes horridly hideous. They can become invisible and move on

earth when they please. Sometimes one of them is shut up in a jar

under the seal of the Lord Solomon who rules them. They ride the

whirlwind like Indian demons, and direct the storm. Their chief home

is the mountains of Qâf, which encompass the earth.

The Ghoul.

Besides these there is a host of minor demons, such as the Ghûl, the

English Ghoul, who is a kind of Shaitân, eats men, and is variously

described as a Jinn or as an enchanter. By one tradition, when the

Shaitân attempt by stealth to hear the words of men, they are struck

by shooting stars, some are burnt, some fall into the sea and become

crocodiles, and some fall upon the land and become Ghûls. The Ghûl is

properly a female, and the male is Qutrub. They are the offspring

of Iblîs and his wife. The Silât or Silâ lives in forests, and

when it captures a man makes him dance and plays with him, as the

cat plays with the mouse. Similar to this creature is the Ghaddâr,

who tortures and terrifies men, the Dalhâm, who is in the form of

a man and rides upon an ostrich, and the Shiqq or Nasnâs, who are

ogres and vampires. But these are little known in Indian folk-lore,

except that directly imported from Arabic sources. [559]

The Baghaut.

As an instance of the respect paid to the ghosts of those who have

perished by an untimely death, we may mention the Baghaut. According

to the last census returns some eight thousand persons recorded

themselves as worshippers in the North-Western Provinces of Bagahu or

Sapaha, the ghosts of people killed by tigers or snakes. The Baghaut

is usually erected on the place where a man was killed by a tiger,

but it sometimes merges into the common form of shrine, as in a

case given by Dr. Buchanan, where a person received the same honour

because he had been killed by the aboriginal Kols. [560] The shrine

is generally a heap of stones or branches near some pathway in the

jungle. Every passer-by adds to the pile, which is in charge of the

Baiga or aboriginal priest, who offers upon it a pig, or a cock,

or some spirits, and lights a little lamp there occasionally. Many

such shrines are to be found in the Mirzapur jungles. In the Central

Provinces they are known as Pât, a term applied in Chota Nâgpur to

holy heights dedicated to various divinities. [561] They are usually

erected in a place where a man has been killed by a tiger or by a

snake; sometimes no reason whatever is given for their selection. "In

connection with these shrines they have a special ceremony for laying

the ghost of a tiger. Until it is gone through, neither Gond nor

Baiga will go into the jungles if he can help it, as they say not

only does the spirit of the dead man walk, but the tiger is also

possessed, for the nonce, with an additional spirit of evil (by the

soul of the dead man entering into him) which increases his power of

intelligence and ferocity, rendering him more formidable than usual,

and more eager to pursue his natural enemy, man. Some of the Baigas

are supposed to be gifted with great powers of witchcraft, and it

is common for a Baiga medicine man to be called in to bewitch the

tigers and prevent them carrying off the village cattle. The Gonds

thoroughly believe in the powers of these men." [562]

I myself came across a singular instance of this some time ago. I

was asking a Baiga of the Chero tribe what he could do in this way,

but I found him singularly reticent on the subject. I asked the

Superintendent of the Dudhi Estate, who was with me, to explain the

reason. "Well," he answered, "when I came here first many years ago,

a noted Baiga came to me and proposed to do some witchcraft to protect

me from tigers, which were very numerous in the neighbourhood at the

time. I told him that I could look after myself, and advised him to

do the same. That night a tiger seized the wretched Baiga while he

was on his way home, and all that was found of him were some scraps

of cloth and pieces of bone. Since then I notice that the Baigas of

these parts do not talk so loudly of their power of managing tigers

when I am present."

The Churel.

More dreaded even than the ghost of a man who has been killed by

a tiger is the Churel, a name which has been connected with that

of the Chûhra or sweeper caste. The ghosts of all low-caste people

are notoriously malignant, an idea which possibly arises from their

connection with the aboriginal faith, which was treated half with fear

and half with contempt by their conquerors. The corpses of such people

are either cremated or buried face downwards, in order to prevent the

evil spirit from escaping and troubling its neighbours. So, it was

the old custom in Great Britain in order to prevent the spirit of a

suicide from "walking" and becoming a terror to the neighbourhood,

to turn the coffin upside down and thrust a spear through it and the

body which it contained so as to fix it to the ground. [563] Riots

have taken place and the authority of the magistrates has been invoked

to prevent a sweeper from being buried in the ordinary way. [564]

The Churel, who corresponds to the Jakhâî, Jokhâî, Mukâî, or Navalâî

of Bombay, [565] is the ghost of a woman dying while pregnant, or

on the day of the child's birth, or within the prescribed period

of impurity. The superstition is based on the horror felt by all

savages at the blood, or even touch of a woman who is ceremonially

impure. [566] The idea is, it is needless to say, common in India. The

woman in her menses is kept carefully apart, and is not allowed to do

cooking or any domestic work until she has undergone the purification

by bathing and changing her garments. Some of the Drâvidian tribes

refuse to allow a woman in this condition to touch the house-thatch,

and she is obliged to creep through a narrow hole in the back wall

whenever she has to leave the house. Hence, too, the objection felt

by men to walk under walls or balconies where women may be seated and

thus convey the pollution. From Kulu, on the slopes of the Himâlayas,

a custom is reported which is probably connected with this principle

and with the rules of the Couvade, to which reference will be made

later on. When a woman who is pregnant dies, her husband is supposed

to have committed some sin, and he is deemed unclean for a time. He

turns a Faqîr and goes on pilgrimage for a month or so, and, having

bathed in some sacred place, is re-admitted into caste. The woman is

buried, the child having been first removed from her body by one of

the Dâgi caste, and her death is not considered a natural one under

any circumstances. [567]

The Churel is particularly malignant to her own family. She appears

in various forms. Sometimes she is fair in front and black behind,

but she invariably has her feet turned round, heels in front and

toes behind. The same idea prevails in many other places. The Gira,

a water-spirit of the Konkan, has his feet turned backwards. [568]

In the Teignmouth story of the Devil he leaves his backward footsteps

in the snow. Pliny so describes Anthropophagi of Mount Imoeus, and

Megasthenes speaks of a similar race on Mount Nilo. [569]

She generally, however, assumes the form of a beautiful young woman and

seduces youths at night, especially those who are good-looking. She

carries them off to some kingdom of her own, and if they venture to

eat the food offered to them there, she keeps them till they lose their

manly beauty and then sends them back to the world grey-haired old men,

who, like Rip Van Winkle, find all their friends dead long ago.

So the Lady of the Lake won Merlin to her arms. [570] The same idea

prevails in Italy, but there the absence is only temporary. "Among the

wizards and witches are even princes and princesses, who to conceal

their debauchery and dishonour take the goat form and carry away

partners for the dance, bearing them upon their backs, and so they

fly many miles in a few minutes, and go with them to distant cities

and other places, where they feast, dance, drink, and make love. But

when day approaches they carry their partners home again, and when

they wake they think they have had pleasant dreams. But indeed their

diversion was more real than they supposed." [571] So, the Manxmen tell

of a man who was absent from his people for four years, which he spent

with the fairies. He could not tell how he returned, but it seemed as

if, having been unconscious, he woke up at last in this world. [572]

I had a smart young butler at Etah, who once described to me vividly

the narrow escape he had from the fascinations of a Churel, who lived

on a Pîpal tree near the cemetery. He saw her sitting on the wall in

the dusk and entered into conversation with her; but he fortunately

observed her tell-tale feet and escaped. He would never go again by

that road without an escort. So, the fairies of England and Ireland

look with envy on the beautiful boys and girls, and carry them off

to fairyland, where they keep them till youth and beauty have departed.

Eating Food in Spirit Land.

The consequences of rashly eating the food of the underworld are well

known. The reason is that eating together implies kinship with the

dwellers in the land of spirits, and he who does so never returns to

the land of men. [573]

The Churel superstition appears in other forms. Thus, the Korwas of

Mirzapur say that if a woman dies in the delivery-room, she becomes

a Churel, but they do not know, or do not care to say, what finally

becomes of her. The Patâris and Majhwârs think that if a woman

dies within the period of pregnancy or uncleanness, she becomes a

Churel. She appears in the form of a pretty little girl in white

clothes, and seduces them away to the mountains, until the Baiga is

called in to sacrifice a goat and release her victim. The Bhuiyârs

go further and say that little baby girls who die before they are

twenty days old become Churels. They live in stones in the mountains

and cause pain to men. The remedy is for the afflicted one to put

some rice and barley on his head, turn round two or three times,

and shake off the grain in the direction of the jungle, when she

releases her victim. The idea seems to be that with these holy grains,

which are scarers of demons, the evil influence is dispersed. But

she continues to visit him, and requires propitiation. Among these

people the Churel has been very generally enrolled among the regular

village godlings and resides with them in the common village shrine,

where she receives her share of the periodical offerings. Any one

who sees a Churel is liable to be attacked by a wasting disease, and,

as in the case of the Dûnd, to answer her night summons brings death.

Modes of Repelling the Churel.

There are fortunately various remedies which are effective in

preventing a woman who dies under these circumstances from becoming

a Churel. One way is that practised by the Majhwârs of Mirzapur,

which resembles that for laying the evil spirit of a sweeper, to

which reference has been made already. They do not cremate the body,

but bury it, fill the grave with thorns and pile heavy stones above

to keep down the ghost.

Among the Bhandâris of Bengal, when a pregnant woman dies before

delivery, her body is cut open and the child taken out, both corpses

being buried in the same grave. [574] In Bombay, when a woman dies

in pregnancy, her corpse, after being bathed and decked with flowers

and ornaments, is carried to the burning ground. There her husband

sprinkles water on her body from the points of a wisp of the sacred

Darbha grass and repeats holy verses. Then he cuts her right side

with a sharp weapon and takes out the child. Should it be alive,

it is taken home and cared for; should it be dead, it is then and

there buried. The hole in the side of the corpse is filled with curds

and butter, covered with cotton threads, and then the usual rite

of cremation is carried out. [575] In one of the tales of Somadeva,

Saktideva cuts the child out of his pregnant wife. [576]

In the Hills, if a woman dies during the menstrual period or

in childbirth, the corpse is anointed with the five products of

the cow, and special texts are recited. A small quantity of fire

is then placed on the chest of the corpse, which is either buried

or thrown into flowing water. [577] Here we have the three great

demon-scarers,--fire, earth and water, combined. In another device,

iron, which has similar virtue, is used. Small round-headed iron

spikes, specially made for the purpose, are driven into the nails

of the four fingers of the corpse, while the thumbs and great toes

are securely fastened together with iron rings. Most Hindus, it may

be remarked, tie the corpse to the bier, whatever may have been the

cause of death, and in parts of Ireland a thread is tied round the

toe of the corpse, the object apparently being to secure the body

and prevent an evil spirit from entering it. [578]

In the Hills the place where a pregnant woman died is carefully

scraped and the earth removed. The spot is then sown with mustard,

which is sprinkled along the road traversed by the corpse on its way

to the burial ground. The reason given for this is twofold. First,

the mustard blossoms in the world of the dead, and its sweet smell

pleases the spirit and keeps her content, so that she does not long to

revisit her earthly home; secondly, the Churel rises from her grave

at nightfall and seeks to return to her friends; she sees the minute

grains of the mustard scattered abroad and stoops to pick it up, and

while so engaged cock-crow comes, she is unable to visit her home,

and must return to her grave. This is another instance of the rule

that evil spirits move about only at night.

Counting.

This counting of the grains of mustard illustrates another principle

which is thus explained by Mr. Leland: [579] "A traveller in Persia

has observed that the patterns of carpets are made intricate,

so that the Evil Eye, resting upon them and following the design,

loses its power. This was the motive of all the interlaces of the

Celtic and Norse designs. When the witch sees the Sâlagrâma, her

glance is at once bewildered with its holes and veins. As I have

elsewhere remarked, the herb Rosaloaccio, not the corn poppy, but

a kind of small house leek, otherwise called 'Rice of the Goddess

of the four Winds,' derives its name from looking, ere it unfolds,

like confused grains of rice, and when a witch sees it she cannot

enter till she has counted them, which is impossible; therefore it

is used to protect rooms from witchcraft." Sarson or mustard is,

it may be noted, used as a scarer of demons. In all the principal

Hindu ceremonies in Western India, grains of Sarshapa or Sarson

(Sinapts dichotoma) and parched rice are scattered about to scare

fiends. Akbar used to have Sipand or Sarson burnt on a hot plate to

keep off the Evil Eye--Nazar-i-bad--from his valuable horses. [580]

Though the Churel is regarded with disgust and terror, curiously

enough a family of Chauhân Râjputs in Oudh claim one as their

ancestress. [581]

The Couvade.

In connection with this subject of parturition impurity, the very

remarkable custom of the Couvade may be referred to here. This is

the rule by which at the birth of a child the father is treated as

an invalid, instead of or in addition to the mother:--

When Chineses go to bed,

And lie in in their ladies' stead.

Marco Polo, writing of Zardandan, gives a good example:--"When one

of their wives has been delivered of a child, the infant is washed

and swathed, and then the woman gets up and goes about her household

affairs, whilst the husband takes to bed with the child by his side,

and so keeps his bed for forty days; and all the kith and kin come to

visit her, and keep up a great festivity. They do this because they

say the woman has had a bad time of it, and it is but fair that the

man should have a share of suffering." [582] Professor Rhys remarks

that the gods of Celtic Ireland used to practise the Couvade. [583]

Professor Max Müller thinks that it is clear that the poor husband

was at first tyrannized over by his female relations and afterwards

frightened into superstition. He then began to make a martyr

of himself, till he made himself really ill, or took to bed in

self-defence. The custom appears, however, to rest on a much more

primitive set of ideas. It partly implies, perhaps, the transition

from that social state in which, owing to the laxity of the connection

between the sexes, the only recognized form of descent was through

the mother, and partly, the kindred conception that the father has

more to do with the production of the child than the mother, and

that the father must, at the critical period of the baby's existence,

exercise particular caution that through his negligence no demoniacal

influence may assail the infant, [584]

It is curious that in India itself so few actual instances of the

Couvade have been discovered. This, however, as Mr. Hartland shows,

is not unusual, and the Couvade is not found in the lowest stage

of savagery. But that the custom once generally prevailed is quite

certain, and in Northern India, at least, it seems to have been masked

by special birth ceremonies of great stringency and elaborate detail,

but of distinctly later date than the very primitive usage with which

we are now concerned.

One instance of the actual Couvade is given by Professor Sir

Monier-Williams. [585] Among a very low caste of basket-makers in

Gujarât, it is the usual practice for a wife to go about her work

immediately after delivery, as if nothing had occurred. "The presiding

Mother (Mâtâ) of the tribe is supposed to transfer the weakness to her

husband, who takes to his bed and has to be supported for several days

with good nourishing food." Again, among the Kols of Chota Nâgpur,

father and mother are considered impure for eight days, during

which period the members of the family are sent out of the house,

and the husband has to cook for his wife. If it be a difficult case

of parturition, the malignancy of some spirit of evil is supposed to

be at work, and after divination to ascertain his name, a sacrifice

is made to appease him. [586] Among many of the Drâvidian tribes of

Mirzapur, when the posset or spiced drink is prepared for the mother

after her confinement, the father is obliged to drink the first sup

of it. Among all these people, the father does not work or leave the

house during the period of parturition impurity, and cooks for his

wife. When asked why he refrains from work, they simply say that he

is so pleased with the safety of his wife and the birth of his child,

that he takes a holiday; but some survival of the Couvade is probably

at the root of the custom. The same idea prevails in a modified form in

Bombay. The Pomaliyas, gold-washers of South Gujarât, after a birth,

take great care of the husband, give him food, and do not allow him

to go out; and "when a child is born to a Deshasth Brâhman, he throws

himself into a well with all his clothes on, and, in the presence of

his wife's relations, lets a couple of drops of honey and butter fall

into the mouth of the child." [587]

Various Birth Ceremonies.

The same idea that the infant is likely to receive demoniacal

influences through its father appears to be the explanation of another

class of birth ceremonies. In Northern India, in respectable families,

the father does not look on the child until the astrologer selects a

favourable moment. If the birth occur in the unlucky lunar asterism

of Mûl, the father is often not allowed to see his child for years,

and has in addition to undergo an elaborate rite of purification,

known as Mûla-sânti. So, in Bombay, "the Belgaum Chitpavans do not

allow the father to look on the new-born child, but at its reflection

in butter. The Dharwâr Radders do not allow the father to see the

lamp being waved round the image of Satvâî, the birth goddess. If

the father sees it, it is believed that the mother and child will

sicken. The Karnâtak Jainas allow anyone to feed the new-born babe

with honey and castor oil, except the father. Among the Beni Isrâels,

when the boy is being circumcised, the father sits apart covered

with a veil. Among the Pûna Musalmâns, friends are called to eat

the goat offered as a sacrifice on the birth of a child. All join in

the feast except the parents, who may not eat the sacrifice." [588]

Probably on the same principle, among most of the lower castes, the

father and mother do not eat on the wedding day of their children

until the ceremony is over.

Places Infested by Bhûts: Burial Places.

There are, of course, certain places which are particularly infested

by Bhûts. To begin with, they naturally infest the neighbourhood of

burial places and cremation grounds. This idea is found all over the

world. Virgil says:--

Moerim, saepe animas imis excire sepulcris,

Atque satas alio vidi traducere messes;

and Shakespeare in the "Midsummer Night's Dream,"--

Now it is the time of night

That graves all gaping wide,

Every one lets forth its sprite,

In the church-way paths to glide.

Deserts.

All deserts, also, are a resort of Bhûts, as the great desert of Lop,

where Marco Polo assures us they are constantly seen at night. In the

Western Panjâb deserts, during the prairie fires and in the dead of

night, the lonely herdsmen used to hear cries arising from the ground,

and shouts of Mâr! Mâr! "Strike! Strike!" which were ascribed to the

spirits of men who had been killed in former frontier raids. Such

supernatural sounds were heard by the early settlers within the last

fifty years, and, until quite recently, the people were afraid to

travel without forming large parties for fear of encountering the

supernatural enemies who frequented these uninhabited tracts. [589]

So, among the Mirzapur jungle tribes, the wild forests of Sarguja

are supposed to be infested with Bhûts, and if any one goes there

rashly he is attacked through their influence with diarrhoea and

vomiting. The site of the present British Residency at Kathmându in

Nepâl was specially selected by the Nepâlese as it was a barren patch,

supposed to be the abode of demons. So, in Scotland, the local spirit

lives in a patch of untilled ground, known as the "Gudeman's field"

or "Cloutie's Croft." [590]

Owls and Bats.

The goblins of the churchyard type very often take the form of owls

and bats, which haunt the abodes of the dead. "Screech owls are held

unlucky in our days," says Aubrey. [591]

Sedit in adverso nocturnus culmine bubo,

Funereosque graves edidit ore sonos.

The Strix, or screech owl, in Roman folk-lore was supposed to suck the

blood of young children. Another form of the word in Latin is Striga,

meaning a hag or witch. The Lilith of the Jews, the "night monster"

of our latest version of the Old Testament, becomes in the Rabbinical

stories Adam's first wife, "the Queen of demons" and murderess of

young children, who is the "night hag" of Milton. [592]

The Kumaun owl legend is that they had originally no plumes of their

own, and were forced to borrow those of their neighbours, who pursue

them if they find them abroad at daylight. Owl's flesh is a powerful

love philter, and the eating of it causes a man to become a fool and

to lose his memory; hence, women give it to their husbands, that as

a result of the mental weakness which it produces they may be able

to carry on their flirtations with impunity. On the other hand, the

owl is the type of wisdom, and eating the eyeballs of an owl gives

the power of seeing in the dark, an excellent example of sympathetic

magic. If you put an owl in a room, go in naked, shut the door and

feed the bird with meat all night, you acquire magical powers. I once

had a native clerk who was supposed to have gone through this ordeal,

and was much feared accordingly. Here we have another instance of

the nudity charm. In the same way in Gujarât, if a man takes seven

cotton threads, goes to a place where an owl is hooting, strips naked,

ties a knot at each hoot, and fastens the thread round the right arm

of a fever patient, the fever goes away. [593]

Ghosts and Burial Grounds.

To return to the connection of ghosts with burial grounds. At Bishesar

in the Hills, the Hindu dead from Almora are burnt. The spirits

of the departed are supposed to lurk there and are occasionally

seen. Sometimes, under the guidance of their leader Bholanâth, whom

we have mentioned already, they come, some in palanquins and some

on foot, at night, to the Almora Bâzâr and visit the merchants'

shops. Death is supposed to follow soon on a meeting with their

processions. These ghosts are supposed to be deficient in some of

their members. One has no head, another no feet, and so on; but they

can all talk and dance. [594]

Mutilation.

This illustrates another principle about ghosts, that mutilation

during life is avoided, as being likely to turn the spirit into a

malignant ghost after death. This is the reason that many savages

keep the cuttings of their hair and nails, not only to put them out

of the way of witches, who might work evil charms by their means,

but also that the body when it rises at the Last Day may not be

deficient in any part. [595] This also explains the strong feeling

among Hindus against decapitation as a form of execution, and the

dread which Musalmâns exhibit towards cremation. It also, in all

probability, explains the lame demons, which abound all the world

over, like Hephaistos, Wayland Smith, the Persian Æshma, the Asmodeus

of the book of Tobit, and the Club-footed Devil of Christianity. The

prejudice against amputation, based on this idea, is one of the many

difficulties which meet our surgeons in India.

Ghosts of Old Ruins.

Another place where ghosts, as might have been expected, resort is in

old ruins. Many old buildings are, as we have seen, attributed to the

agency of demons, and in any case interference with them is resented

by the Deus loci who occupies them. This explains the number of old

ruined houses which one sees in an Indian town, and with which no

one cares to meddle, as they are occupied by the spirits of their

former owners. The same idea extends to the large bricks of the

ancient buildings which are occasionally disinterred. Dr. Buchanan

describes how on one occasion no one would assist him in digging out

an ancient stone image. The people told him that a man who had made

an attempt to do so some time before had met with sudden death. [596]

The landlord of the village stated that he would gladly use the bricks

from these ruins, but that he was afraid of the consequences. So,

in Bombay, interference with the bricks of an ancient dam brought

Guinea worm and dysentery into a village, and some labourers were

cut off who meddled with some ancient tombs at Ahmadnagar. [597]

General Cunningham, in one of his Reports, describes how on one

occasion, when carrying on some excavations, his elephant escaped,

and was recovered with difficulty; the people unanimously attributed

the disaster to the vengeance of the local ghosts, who resented his

proceedings. The people who live in the neighbourhood of the old city

of Sahet Mahet are, for the same reason, very unwilling to meddle with

its ruins, or even to enter it at night. When Mr. Benett was there,

a storm which occurred was generally believed to be a token of the

displeasure of the spirits at his intrusion on their domains. [598]

The tomb of Shaikh Mîna Shâh at Lucknow was demolished during the

Mutiny, and the workmen suffered so much trouble from the wrath of

the saint, that when the disturbances were over they collected and

rebuilt it at their own expense.

The same theory exists in other countries. Thus, in the Isle of Man,

"a good Manx scholar told me how a relative of his had carted the

earth from an old burial ground on his farm and used it as manure

for his fields, and how his beasts died afterwards. It is possible

for a similar reason that a house in ruins is seldom pulled down

and the materials used for other buildings; where that has been done

misfortunes have ensued." [599]

In the Konkan it is believed that all treasures buried underground,

all the mines of gold, silver, and precious stones, all old caves and

all ruined fortresses, are guarded by underground spirits in the shape

of a hairy serpent or frog. These spirits never leave their places,

and they attack and injure only those persons who come to remove the

things which they are guarding. [600] In short, these places are like

the Sith Bhruaith mounds in Scotland, which were respected, and it

was deemed unlawful and dangerous to cut wood, dig earth there, or

otherwise disturb them. In the same way the sites of ancient villages

which abound in Northern India are more or less respected. They were

abandoned on account of the ravages of war, famine, or pestilence, and

are guarded by the spirits of the original owners, these calamities

being self-evident proofs of the malignity and displeasure of the

local deities.

Mine and Cave Spirits.

We have already mentioned incidentally the mine spirits. It is not

difficult to see why the spirits of mine and cave should be malignant

and resent trespass on their territories, because by the nature of

the case they are directly in communication with the under-world. In

the folk-tales of Somadeva we have more than one reference to a

cave which leads to Pâtâla, "the rifted rock whose entrance leads to

hell." Others are the entrance to fairy palaces, where dwell the Asura

maidens beneath the earth. [601] Of a mine at Patna, Dr. Buchanan

writes: "A stone-cutter who was in my service was going into one of

the shafts to break a specimen, when the guide, a Muhammadan trader,

acquainted with the fears of the workmen, pulled him back in alarm,

and said, 'Pull off your shoes! Will you profane the abode of the

gods?'" Under the same belief, the Cornish miners will allow no

whistling underground. [602]

Mr. Spencer suggests that the respect for caves is based on the early

practice of burial in such places. [603] At any rate, the belief is

very general that spirits and deities live in caves. There is a whole

cycle of fairy legend centering round the belief that some of the

heroes of old live in caves surrounded by their faithful followers,

and will arise some day to win back their kingdom. Thus, Bruce and

his enchanted warriors lie in a cave in Rathlin Island, and one day

they will arise and win back the island for Scotland. [604] The same

tale is told of Arthur, Karl the Great, Barbarossa, and many other

heroes. The same tale appears in Oriental folk-lore in the shape of

the Ashâbu-'l-Kahf, "the companions of the cave," the seven sleepers

of Ephesus. So the famous Alha of the Bundelkhand epic is said to be

still alive. He makes regular visits on the last day of the moon to

Devî Sârad's temple on the Mahiyâr Hill, where he has been repeatedly

seen and followed. But he sternly warns any one from approaching him,

and the main proof of his presence is that some unknown hand puts a

fresh garland on the statue of the goddess every day. [605]

Cave Deities.

The Popular Religion and Folk-Lore of Northern India, Vol. 1 (of 2) · 第 6 / 7 章