CHAPTER V

THE MAGICAL CONTROL OF THE WEATHER

§ 1. _The Public Magician_

The patient reader may remember that we were led to plunge into the

labyrinth of magic, in which we have wandered for so many pages, by a

consideration of two different types of man-god. This is the clue which

has guided our devious steps through the maze, and brought us out at

last on higher ground, whence, resting a little by the way, we can look

back over the path we have already traversed and forward to the longer

and steeper road we have still to climb.

[Sidenote: Two types of man-god, the religious and the magical.]

As a result of the foregoing discussion, the two types of human gods

may conveniently be distinguished as the religious and the magical

man-god respectively. In the former, a being of an order different

from and superior to man is supposed to become incarnate, for a longer

or a shorter time, in a human body, manifesting his superhuman power

and knowledge by miracles wrought and prophecies uttered through the

medium of the fleshly tabernacle in which he has deigned to take up his

abode. This may also appropriately be called the inspired or incarnate

type of man-god. In it the human body is merely a frail earthly vessel

filled with a divine and immortal spirit. On the other hand, a man-god

of the magical sort is nothing but a man who possesses in an unusually

high degree powers which most of his fellows arrogate to themselves on

a smaller scale; for in rude society there is hardly a person who does

not dabble in magic. Thus, whereas a man-god of the former or inspired

type derives his divinity from a deity who has stooped to hide his

heavenly radiance behind a dull mask of earthly mould, a {p245} man-god

of the latter type draws his extraordinary power from a certain

physical sympathy with nature. He is not merely the receptacle of a

divine spirit. His whole being, body and soul, is so delicately attuned

to the harmony of the world that a touch of his hand or a turn of his

head may send a thrill vibrating through the universal framework of

things; and conversely his divine organism is acutely sensitive to such

slight changes of environment as would leave ordinary mortals wholly

unaffected. But the line between these two types of man-god, however

sharply we may draw it in theory, is seldom to be traced with precision

in practice, and in what follows I shall not insist on it.

[Sidenote: Public and private magic: the public magician often a king.]

We have seen that in practice the magic art may be employed for the

benefit either of individuals or of the whole community, and that

according as it is directed to one or other of these two objects it

may be called private or public magic.​[847] Further, I pointed out

that the public magician occupies a position of great influence, from

which, if he is a prudent and able man, he may advance step by step

to the rank of a chief or king. Thus an examination of public magic

conduces to an understanding of the early kingship, since in savage and

barbarous society many chiefs and kings appear to owe their authority

in great measure to their reputation as magicians.

[Sidenote: The rise of a class of public or professional magicians is a

great step in social and intellectual progress.]

Among the objects of public utility which magic may be employed to

secure, the most essential is an adequate supply of food. The examples

cited in preceding pages prove that the purveyors of food—the hunter,

the fisher, the farmer—all resort to magical practices in the pursuit

of their various callings; but they do so as private individuals

for the benefit of themselves and their families, rather than as

public functionaries acting in the interest of the whole people. It

is otherwise when the rites are performed, not by the hunters, the

fishers, the farmers themselves, but by professional magicians on their

behalf. In primitive society, where uniformity of occupation is the

rule, and the distribution of the community into various classes of

workers has hardly begun, every man is more or less his own magician;

he practises charms and {p246} incantations for his own good and the

injury of his enemies. But a great step in advance has been taken

when a special class of magicians has been instituted; when, in other

words, a number of men have been set apart for the express purpose of

benefiting the whole community by their skill, whether that skill be

directed to the healing of diseases, the forecasting of the future,

the regulation of the weather, or any other object of general utility.

The impotence of the means adopted by most of these practitioners to

accomplish their ends ought not to blind us to the immense importance

of the institution itself. Here is a body of men relieved, at least

in the higher stages of savagery, from the need of earning their

livelihood by hard manual toil, and allowed, nay, expected and

encouraged, to prosecute researches into the secret ways of nature.

It was at once their duty and their interest to know more than their

fellows, to acquaint themselves with everything that could aid man in

his arduous struggle with nature, everything that could mitigate his

sufferings and prolong his life. The properties of drugs and minerals,

the causes of rain and drought, of thunder and lightning, the changes

of the seasons, the phases of the moon, the daily and yearly journeys

of the sun, the motions of the stars, the mystery of life, and the

mystery of death, all these things must have excited the wonder of

these early philosophers, and stimulated them to find solutions of

problems that were doubtless often thrust on their attention in the

most practical form by the importunate demands of their clients, who

expected them not merely to understand but to regulate the great

processes of nature for the good of man. That their first shots fell

very far wide of the mark could hardly be helped. The slow, the

never-ending approach to truth consists in perpetually forming and

testing hypotheses, accepting those which at the time seem to fit

the facts and rejecting the others. The views of natural causation

embraced by the savage magician no doubt appear to us manifestly false

and absurd; yet in their day they were legitimate hypotheses, though

they have not stood the test of experience. Ridicule and blame are

the just meed, not of those who devised these crude theories, but of

those who obstinately adhered to them after better had been propounded.

{p247} Certainly no men ever had stronger incentives in the pursuit

of truth than these savage sorcerers. To maintain at least a show of

knowledge was absolutely necessary; a single mistake detected might

cost them their life. This no doubt led them to practise imposture

for the purpose of concealing their ignorance; but it also supplied

them with the most powerful motive for substituting a real for a sham

knowledge, since, if you would appear to know anything, by far the

best way is actually to know it. Thus, however justly we may reject

the extravagant pretensions of magicians and condemn the deceptions

which they have practised on mankind, the original institution of this

class of men has, take it all in all, been productive of incalculable

good to humanity. They were the direct predecessors, not merely of our

physicians and surgeons, but of our investigators and discoverers in

every branch of natural science. They began the work which has since

been carried to such glorious and beneficent issues by their successors

in after ages; and if the beginning was poor and feeble, this is to

be imputed to the inevitable difficulties which beset the path of

knowledge rather than to the natural incapacity or wilful fraud of the

men themselves.

§ 2. _The Magical Control of Rain_

[Sidenote: One of the chief tasks which the public magician has to

perform is to control the weather, and especially to ensure an adequate

supply of rain. The method adopted by the rain-maker is commonly

based on homoeopathic or imitative magic: he seeks to produce rain by

imitating it.]

Of the things which the public magician sets himself to do for the

good of the tribe, one of the chief is to control the weather and

especially to ensure an adequate fall of rain. Water is the first

essential of life, and in most countries the supply of it depends upon

showers. Without rain vegetation withers, animals and men languish and

die. Hence in savage communities the rain-maker is a very important

personage; and often a special class of magicians exists for the

purpose of regulating the heavenly water-supply. The methods by which

they attempt to discharge the duties of their office are commonly,

though not always, based on the principle of homoeopathic or imitative

magic. If they wish to make rain they simulate it by sprinkling water

or mimicking clouds: if their object is to stop rain and cause drought,

they avoid water and resort to warmth and fire for the sake of drying

up the too abundant moisture. Such attempts are by no means confined,

as the cultivated reader might {p248} imagine, to the naked inhabitants

of those sultry lands like Central Australia and some parts of Eastern

and Southern Africa, where often for months together the pitiless sun

beats down out of a blue and cloudless sky on the parched and gaping

earth. They are, or used to be, common enough among outwardly civilised

folk in the moister climate of Europe. I will now illustrate them by

instances drawn from the practice both of public and private magic.

[Sidenote: Examples of making rain by homoeopathic or imitative magic.

Use of human hair in rain-charms among the Australian aborigines.]

Thus, for example, in a village near Dorpat, in Russia, when rain was

much wanted, three men used to climb up the fir-trees of an old sacred

grove. One of them drummed with a hammer on a kettle or small cask to

imitate thunder; the second knocked two fire-brands together and made

the sparks fly, to imitate lightning; and the third, who was called

“the rain-maker,” had a bunch of twigs with which he sprinkled water

from a vessel on all sides.​[848] To put an end to drought and bring

down rain, women and girls of the village of Ploska are wont to go

naked by night to the boundaries of the village and there pour water on

the ground.​[849] In Halmahera, or Gilolo, a large island to the west

of New Guinea, a wizard makes rain by dipping a branch of a particular

kind of tree in water and then scattering the moisture from the

dripping bough over the ground.​[850] In Ceram it is enough to dedicate

the bark of a certain tree to the spirits, and lay it in water.​[851]

A Javanese mode of making rain is to imitate the pattering sound of

rain-drops by brushing a coco-nut leaf over the sheath of a betel-nut

in a mortar.​[852] In New Britain the rain-maker wraps some leaves of

a red and green striped creeper {p249} in a banana-leaf, moistens the

bundle with water, and buries it in the ground; then he imitates with

his mouth the plashing of rain.​[853] Amongst the Omaha Indians of

North America, when the corn is withering for want of rain, the members

of the sacred Buffalo Society fill a large vessel with water and dance

four times round it. One of them drinks some of the water and spirts it

into the air, making a fine spray in imitation of a mist or drizzling

rain. Then he upsets the vessel, spilling the water on the ground;

whereupon the dancers fall down and drink up the water, getting mud all

over their faces. Lastly, they squirt the water into the air, making

a fine mist. This saves the corn.​[854] In spring-time the Natchez of

North America used to club together to purchase favourable weather for

their crops from the wizards. If rain was needed, the wizards fasted

and danced with pipes full of water in their mouths. The pipes were

perforated like the nozzle of a watering-can, and through the holes

the rain-maker blew the water towards that part of the sky where the

clouds hung heaviest. But if fine weather was wanted, he mounted the

roof of his hut, and with extended arms, blowing with all his might,

he beckoned to the clouds to pass by.​[855] In time of drought the

Tarahumares Indians of Mexico will sometimes throw water towards the

sky in order that God may replenish his supply. And in the month of

May they always burn the grass, so that the whole country is then

wrapt in smoke and travelling becomes very difficult. They think that

this is necessary to produce rain, clouds of smoke being, in their

opinion, equivalent to rain-clouds.​[856] Among the Swazies and Hlubies

of South-Eastern Africa the rain-doctor draws water from a river with

various mystic ceremonies, and carries it into a cultivated field.

Here he throws it in jets from his vessel high into the air, and the

falling spray is believed to draw down the clouds and to make rain by

sympathy.​[857] To squirt water {p250} from the mouth is a West African

mode of making rain,​[858] and it is practised also by the Wajaggas

of Kilimanjaro.​[859] Among the Wahuma, on the Albert Nyanza Lake,

the rain-maker pours water into a vessel in which he has first placed

a dark stone as large as the hand. Pounded plants and the blood of a

black goat are added to the water, and with a bunch of magic herbs the

sorcerer sprinkles the mixture towards the sky.​[860] In this charm

special efficacy is no doubt attributed to the dark stone and the black

goat, their colour being chosen from its resemblance to that of the

rain-clouds, as we shall see presently. When the rains do not come in

due season the people of Central Angoniland repair to what is called

the rain-temple. Here they clear away the grass, and the leader pours

beer into a pot which is buried in the ground, while he says, “Master

_Chauta_, you have hardened your heart towards us, what would you have

us do? We must perish indeed. Give your children the rains, there is

the beer we have given you.” Then they all partake of the beer that

is left over, even the children being made to sip it. Next they take

branches of trees and dance and sing for rain. When they return to the

village they find a vessel of water set at the doorway by an old woman;

so they dip their branches in it and wave them aloft, so as to scatter

the drops. After that the rain is sure to come driving up in heavy

clouds.​[861] In these practices we see a combination of religion with

magic; for while the scattering of the water-drops by means of branches

is a purely magical ceremony, the prayer for rain and the offering of

beer are purely religious rites. At Takitount in Algeria, when the

drought is severe, the people prepare a sacrificial banquet (_zerda_),

in the course of which they dance, and filling their mouths with water

spirt it into the air crying, “The rain and abundance!” Elsewhere in

the course of these banquets it is customary for the same purpose

to sprinkle water on children. At Tlemcen in time of drought water

is thrown from terraces and windows on {p251} small girls, who pass

singing.​[862] During the summer months frequent droughts occur among

the Japanese alps. To procure rain a party of hunters armed with guns

climb to the top of Mount Jonendake, one of the most imposing peaks in

the range. By kindling a bonfire, discharging their guns, and rolling

great masses of rocks down the cliffs, they represent the wished-for

storm; and rain is supposed always to follow within a few days.​[863]

To make rain a party of Ainos will scatter water by means of sieves,

while others will take a porringer, fit it up with sails and oars as

if it were a boat, and then push or draw it about the village and

gardens.​[864] In Laos the festival of the New Year takes place about

the middle of April and lasts three days. The people assemble in the

pagodas, which are decorated with flowers and illuminated. The Buddhist

monks perform the ceremonies, and when they come to the prayers for the

fertility of the earth the worshippers pour water into little holes in

the floor of the pagoda as a symbol of the rain which they hope Buddha

will send down on the rice-fields in due time.​[865] In the Mara tribe

of Northern Australia the rain-maker goes to a pool and sings over it

his magic song. Then he takes some of the water in his hands, drinks

it, and spits it out in various directions. After that he throws water

all over himself, scatters it about, and returns quietly to the camp.

Rain is supposed to follow.​[866] In the Wotjobaluk tribe of Victoria

the rain-maker dipped a bunch of his own hair in water, sucked out the

water and squirted it westward, or he twirled {p252} the ball round

his head, making a spray like rain.​[867] Other Australian tribes

employ human hair as a rain-charm in other ways. In Western Australia

the natives pluck hair from their arm-pits and thighs and blow them

in the direction from which they wish the rain to come. But if they

wish to prevent rain, they light a piece of sandal wood, and beat the

ground with the burning brand.​[868] When the rivers were low and water

scarce in Victoria, the wizard used to place human hair in the stream,

accompanying the act with chants and gesticulation. But if he wished to

make rain, he dropped some human hair in the fire. Hair was never burnt

at other times for fear of causing a great fall of rain.​[869] The Arab

historian Makrizi describes a method of stopping rain which is said to

have been resorted to by a tribe of nomads called Alqamar in Hadramaut.

They cut a branch from a certain tree in the desert, set it on fire,

and then sprinkled the burning brand with water. After that the

vehemence of the rain abated,​[870] just as the water vanished when it

fell on the glowing brand. Some of the Eastern Angamis of Manipur are

said to perform a somewhat similar ceremony for the opposite purpose,

in order, namely, to produce rain. The head of the village puts a

burning brand on the grave of a man who has died of burns, and quenches

the brand with water, while he prays that rain may fall.​[871] Here

the putting out the fire with water, which is an imitation of rain, is

reinforced by the influence of the dead man, who, having been burnt to

death, will naturally be anxious for the descent of rain to cool his

scorched body and assuage his pangs.

[Sidenote: Use of fire to stop rain.

Various ways of making and stopping rain.]

Other people besides the Arabs have used fire as a means of stopping

rain. Thus the Sulka of New Britain heat stones red hot in the fire and

then put them out in the {p253} rain, or they throw hot ashes in the

air. They think that the rain will soon cease to fall, for it does not

like to be burned by the hot stones or ashes.​[872] The Telugus send

a little girl out naked into the rain with a burning piece of wood in

her hand, which she has to shew to the rain. That is supposed to stop

the downpour.​[873] At Port Stevens in New South Wales the medicine-men

used to drive away rain by throwing fire-sticks into the air, while at

the same time they puffed and shouted.​[874] Any man of the Anula tribe

in Northern Australia can stop rain by simply warming a green stick in

the fire, and then striking it against the wind.​[875] When a Thompson

Indian of British Columbia wished to put an end to a spell of heavy

rain, he held a stick in the fire, then described a circle with it,

beginning at the east and following the sun’s course till it reached

the east again, towards which quarter he held the stick and addressed

the rain as follows: “Now then, you must stop raining; the people are

miserable. Ye mountains, become clear.” The ceremony was repeated for

all the other quarters of the sky.​[876] To bring on rain the Ainos of

Japan wash their tobacco-boxes and pipes in a stream,​[877] and the

Toradjas of Central Celebes dip rice-spoons in water.​[878] On the

contrary, during heavy rain the Indians of Guiana are careful not to

wash the inside of their pots, lest by so doing they should cause the

rain to fall still more heavily.​[879] In Bilaspore it is believed that

the grain-dealer, who has stored large quantities of grain and wishes

to sell it dear, resorts to nefarious means of preventing the rain

from falling, lest the abundance of rice which would follow a copious

rainfall should cheapen his wares. To do this he collects rain-drops

from the eaves of his house in an earthen vessel and buries the vessel

under the grinding-mill. {p254} After that you shall hear thunder

rumbling in the distance like the humming sound of the mill at work,

but no rain will fall, for the wicked dealer has shut it up and it

cannot get out.​[880]

[Sidenote: Rain-making in Queensland.]

In the torrid climate of Queensland the ceremonies necessary for

wringing showers from the cloudless heaven are naturally somewhat

elaborate. A prominent part in them is played by a “rain-stick.” This

is a thin piece of wood about twenty inches long, to which three

“rain-stones” and hair cut from the beard have been fastened. The

“rain-stones” are pieces of white quartz-crystal. Three or four such

sticks may be used in the ceremony. About noon the men who are to take

part in it repair to a lonely pool, into which one of them dives and

fixes a hollow log vertically in the mud. Then they all go into the

water, and, forming a rough circle round the man in the middle, who

holds the rain-stick aloft, they begin stamping with their feet as well

as they can, and splashing the water with their hands from all sides

on the rain-stick. The stamping, which is accompanied by singing, is

sometimes a matter of difficulty, since the water may be four feet deep

or more. When the singing is over, the man in the middle dives out of

sight and attaches the rain-stick to the hollow log under water. Then

coming to the surface, he quickly climbs on to the bank and spits out

on dry land the water which he imbibed in diving. Should more than one

of these rain-sticks have been prepared, the ceremony is repeated with

each in turn. While the men are returning to camp they scratch the tops

of their heads and the inside of their shins from time to time with

twigs; if they were to scratch themselves with their fingers alone,

they believe that the whole effect of the ceremony would be spoiled. On

reaching the camp they paint their faces, arms, and chests with broad

bands of gypsum. During the rest of the day the process of scratching,

accompanied by the song, is repeated at intervals, and thus the

performance comes to a close. No woman may set eyes on the rain-stick

or witness the ceremony of its submergence; but the wife of the chief

rain-maker is privileged to take part in the {p255} subsequent rite of

scratching herself with a twig. When the rain does come, the rain-stick

is taken out of the water: it has done its work.​[881] At Roxburgh, in

Queensland, the ceremony is somewhat different. A white quartz-crystal

which is to serve as the rain-stone is obtained in the mountains

and crushed to powder. Next a tree is chosen of which the stem runs

up straight for a long way without any branches. Against its trunk

saplings from fifteen to twenty feet long are then propped in a circle,

so as to form a sort of shed like a bell-tent, and in front of the shed

an artificial pond is made in the ground. The men, who have collected

within the shed, now come forth and, dancing and singing round the

pond, mimic the cries and antics of various aquatic birds and animals,

such as ducks and frogs. Meanwhile the women are stationed some twenty

yards or so away. When the men have done pretending to be ducks, frogs,

and so forth, they march round the women in single file, throwing the

pulverised quartz-crystals over them. On their side the women hold up

wooden troughs, shields, pieces of bark, and so on over their heads,

making believe that they are sheltering themselves from a heavy shower

of rain.​[882] Both these ceremonies are cases of mimetic magic; the

splashing of the water over the rain-stick is as clearly an imitation

of a shower as the throwing of the powdered quartz-crystal over the

women.

[Sidenote: Rain-making among the Dieri of Central Australia.

Use of foreskins in rain-making.

Use of human blood in rain-making ceremonies.

Sanguinary conflicts as means of making rain.]

The Dieri of Central Australia enact a somewhat similar pantomime for

the same purpose. In a dry season their lot is a hard one. No fresh

herbs or roots are to be had, and as the parched earth yields no

grass, the emus, reptiles, and other creatures which generally furnish

the natives with food grow so lean and wizened as to be hardly worth

eating. At such a time of severe drought the Dieri, loudly lamenting

the impoverished state of the country and their own half-starved

condition, call upon the spirits of their remote predecessors, whom

they call Mura-muras, to grant them power to make a heavy rainfall. For

they believe that the clouds are bodies in which rain is generated by

their own ceremonies or those {p256} of neighbouring tribes, through

the influence of the Mura-muras. The way in which they set about

drawing rain from the clouds is this. A hole is dug about twelve feet

long and eight or ten broad, and over this hole a conical hut of logs

and branches is made. Two wizards, supposed to have received a special

inspiration from the Mura-muras, are bled by an old and influential

man with a sharp flint; and the blood, drawn from their arms below the

elbow, is made to flow on the other men of the tribe, who sit huddled

together in the hut. At the same time the two bleeding men throw

handfuls of down about, some of which adheres to the blood-stained

bodies of their comrades, while the rest floats in the air. The blood

is thought to represent the rain, and the down the clouds. During the

ceremony two large stones are placed in the middle of the hut; they

stand for gathering clouds and presage rain. Then the wizards who were

bled carry away the two stones for about ten or fifteen miles, and

place them as high as they can in the tallest tree. Meanwhile the other

men gather gypsum, pound it fine, and throw it into a water-hole. This

the Mura-muras see, and at once they cause clouds to appear in the

sky. Lastly, the men, young and old, surround the hut, and, stooping

down, butt at it with their heads, like so many rams. Thus they force

their way through it and reappear on the other side, repeating the

process till the hut is wrecked. In doing this they are forbidden to

use their hands or arms; but when the heavy logs alone remain, they are

allowed to pull them out with their hands. “The piercing of the hut

with their heads symbolises the piercing of the clouds; the fall of the

hut, the fall of the rain.”​[883] Obviously, too, the act of placing

high up in trees the two stones, which stand for clouds, is a way of

making the real clouds to mount up in the sky. The Dieri also imagine

that the foreskins taken from lads at circumcision have a great power

of producing rain. Hence the Great Council of the tribe always keeps

a small stock of {p257} foreskins ready for use. They are carefully

concealed, being wrapt up in feathers with the fat of the wild dog and

of the carpet snake. A woman may not see such a parcel opened on any

account. When the ceremony is over, the foreskin is buried, its virtue

being exhausted. After the rains have fallen, some of the tribe always

undergo a surgical operation, which consists in cutting the skin of

their chest and arms with a sharp flint. The wound is then tapped with

a flat stick to increase the flow of blood, and red ochre is rubbed

into it. Raised scars are thus produced. The reason alleged by the

natives for this practice is that they are pleased with the rain, and

that there is a connexion between the rain and the scars. Apparently

the operation is not very painful, for the patient laughs and jokes

while it is going on. Indeed, little children have been seen to crowd

round the operator and patiently take their turn; then after being

operated on, they ran away, expanding their little chests and singing

for the rain to beat upon them. However, they were not so well pleased

next day, when they felt their wounds stiff and sore.​[884] The tribes

of the Karamundi nation, on the River Darling, universally believe that

rain can be produced as follows. A vein in the arm of one of the men is

opened, and the blood allowed to flow into a piece of hollow bark till

it forms a little pool. Powdered gypsum and hair from the man’s beard

are then added to the blood, and the whole is stirred into a thick

paste. Afterwards the mixture is placed between two pieces of bark

and put under water in a river or lagoon, pointed stakes being driven

into the ground to keep it down. When it has all dissolved away, the

natives think that a great cloud will come bringing rain. From the time

the ceremony is performed until rain falls, the men must abstain from

intercourse with their wives, or the charm would be spoiled.​[885] In

this custom the bloody paste seems to be an imitation of a rain-cloud.

In Java, when rain is wanted, two men will sometimes thrash each

other with supple rods {p258} till the blood flows down their backs;

the streaming blood represents the rain, and no doubt is supposed to

make it fall on the ground.​[886] The people of Egghiou, a district

of Abyssinia, used to engage in sanguinary conflicts with each other,

village against village, for a week together every January for the

purpose of procuring rain. A few years ago the emperor Menelik forbade

the custom. However, the following year the rain was deficient, and the

popular outcry so great that the emperor yielded to it, and allowed the

murderous fights to be resumed, but for two days a year only.​[887]

The writer who mentions the custom regards the blood shed on these

occasions as a propitiatory sacrifice offered to spirits who control

the showers; but perhaps, as in the Australian and Javanese ceremonies,

it is an imitation of rain. The prophets of Baal, who sought to procure

rain by cutting themselves with knives till the blood gushed out,​[888]

may have acted on the same principle.

[Sidenote: Rain-making among the Kaitish.]

The Kaitish tribe of Central Australia believe that the rainbow is the

son of the rain, and with filial regard is always anxious to prevent

his father from falling down. Hence if it appears in the sky at a

time when rain is wanted, they “sing” or enchant it in order to send

it away. When the head man of the rain totem in this tribe desires to

make rain he goes to the sacred storehouse of his local group. There he

paints the holy stones with red ochre and sings over them, and as he

sings he pours water from a vessel on them and on himself. Moreover,

he paints three rainbows in red ochre, one on the ground, one on his

own body, and one on a shield, which he also decorates with zigzag

lines of white clay to represent lightning. This shield may only be

seen by men of the {p259} same exogamous half of the tribe as himself;

if men of the other half of the tribe were to see it, the charm would

be spoilt. Hence after bringing the shield away from the sacred place,

he hides it in his own camp until the rain has fallen, after which he

destroys the rainbow drawings. The intention seems to be to keep the

rainbow in custody, and prevent it from appearing in the sky until the

clouds have burst and moistened the thirsty ground. To ensure that

event the rain-maker, on his return from the sacred storehouse, keeps

a vessel of water by his side in camp, and from time to time scatters

white down about, which is thought to hasten the rain. Meantime the men

who accompanied him to the holy place go away and camp by themselves,

for neither they nor he may have any intercourse with the women. The

leader may not even speak to his wife, who absents herself from the

camp at the time of his return to it. When later on she comes back, he

imitates the call of the plover, a bird whose cry is always associated

with the rainy season in these parts. Early next morning he returns to

the sacred storehouse and covers the stones with bushes. After another

night passed in silence, he and the other men and women go out in

separate directions to search for food. When they meet on their return

to camp, they all mimic the cry of the plover. Then the leader’s mouth

is touched with some of the food that has been brought in, and thus the

ban of silence is removed. If rain follows, they attribute it to the

magical virtue of the ceremony; if it does not, they fall back on their

standing excuse, that some one else has kept off the rain by stronger

magic.​[889]

[Sidenote: Rain-making among the Arunta.]

Among the Arunta tribe of Central Australia a celebrated rain-maker

resides at the present day in what is called by the natives the Rain

Country (_Kartwia quatcha_), a district about fifty miles to the

east of Alice Springs. He is the head of a group of people who have

water for their totem, and when he is about to engage in a ceremony

for the making of rain he summons other men of the water totem

from neighbouring groups to come and help him. {p260} When all are

assembled, they march into camp, painted with red and yellow ochre

and pipeclay, and wearing bunches of eagle-hawk feathers on the crown

and sides of the head. At a signal from the rain-maker they all sit

down in a line and, folding their arms across their breasts, chant

certain words for a time. Then at another signal from the master of

the ceremonies they jump up and march in single file to a spot some

miles off, where they camp for the night. At break of day they scatter

in all directions to look for game, which is then cooked and eaten;

but on no account may any water be drunk, or the ceremony would fail.

When they have eaten, they adorn themselves again in a different style,

broad bands of white bird’s down being glued by means of human blood

to their stomach, legs, arms, and forehead. Meanwhile a special hut

of boughs has been made by some older men not far from the main camp.

Its floor is strewn with a thick layer of gum leaves to make it soft,

for a good deal of time has to be spent lying down here. Close to

the entrance of the hut a shallow trench, some thirty yards long, is

excavated in the ground. At sunset the performers, arrayed in all the

finery of white down, march to the hut. On reaching it the young men

go in first and lie face downwards at the inner end, where they have

to stay till the ceremony is over; none of them is allowed to quit

it on any pretext. Meanwhile, outside the hut the older men are busy

decorating the rain-maker. Hair girdles, covered with white down, are

placed all over his head, while his cheeks and forehead are painted

with pipeclay; and two broad bands of white down pass across the face,

one over the eyebrows and the other over the nose. The front of his

body is adorned with a broad band of pipeclay fringed with white down,

and rings of white down encircle his arms. Thus decorated, with patches

of bird’s down adhering by means of human blood to his hair and the

whole of his body, the disguised man is said to present a spectacle

which, once seen, can never be forgotten. He now takes up a position

close to the opening of the hut. Then the old men sing a song, and

when it is finished, the rain-maker comes out of the hut and stalks

slowly twice up and down the shallow trench, quivering his body and

legs in a {p261} most extraordinary way, every nerve and fibre seeming

to tremble. While he is thus engaged the young men, who had been lying

flat on their faces, get up and join the old men in chanting a song

with which the movements of the rain-maker seem to accord. But as soon

as he re-enters the hut, the young men at once prostrate themselves

again; for they must always be lying down when he is in the hut. The

performance is repeated at intervals during the night, and the singing

goes on with little intermission until, just when the day is breaking,

the rain-maker executes a final quiver, which lasts longer than any of

the others, and seems to exhaust his remaining strength completely.

Then he declares the ceremony to be over, and at once the young men

jump to their feet and rush out of the hut, screaming in imitation of

the spur-winged plover. The cry is heard by the men and women who have

been left at the main camp, and they take it up with weird effect.​[890]

[Sidenote: Rain-making by imitation of clouds and storm.]

Although we cannot, perhaps, divine the meaning of all the details of

this curious ceremony, the analogy of the Queensland and the Dieri

ceremonies, described above, suggests that we have here a rude attempt

to represent the gathering of rain-clouds and the other accompaniments

of a rising storm. The hut of branches, like the structure of logs

among the Dieri, and perhaps the conical shed in Queensland, may

possibly stand for the vault of heaven, from which the rain-clouds,

represented by the chief actor in his quaint costume of white down,

come forth to move in ever-shifting shapes across the sky, just as

he struts quivering up and down the trench. The other performers,

also adorned with bird’s down, who burst from the tent with the cries

of plovers, probably imitate birds that are supposed to harbinger

or accompany rain.​[891] This interpretation is confirmed by other

ceremonies in which the performers definitely assimilate {p262}

themselves to the celestial or atmospheric phenomena which they seek

to produce. Thus in Mabuiag, a small island in Torres Straits, when a

wizard desired to make rain, he took some bush or plant and painted

himself black and white, “All along same as clouds, black behind, white

he go first.” He further put on a large woman’s petticoat to signify

raining clouds. On the other hand, when he wished to stop the rain,

he put red paint on the crown of his head, “to represent the shining

sun,” and he inserted a small ball of red paint in another part of his

person. By and by he expelled this ball, “Like breaking a cloud so that

sun he may shine.” He then took some bushes and leaves of the pandanus,

mixed them together, and placed the compound in the sea. Afterwards

he removed them from the water, dried them, and burnt them so that

the smoke went up, thereby typifying, as Dr. Haddon was informed, the

evaporation and dispersal of the clouds.​[892] Again, it is said that

if a Malay woman puts upon her head an inverted earthenware pan, and

then, setting it upon the ground, fills it with water and washes the

cat in it till the animal is nearly drowned, heavy rain will certainly

follow. In this performance the inverted pan is intended, as Mr. Skeat

was told, to symbolise the vault of heaven.​[893]

[Sidenote: Belief that twins can control the weather.

Superstitions as to twins among the Indians of British Columbia.

Superstitions as to twins in West Africa.]

There is a widespread belief that twin children possess magical

powers over nature, especially over rain and the weather. This

curious superstition prevails among some of the Indian tribes of

British Columbia, and has led them often to impose certain singular

restrictions or taboos on the parents of twins, though the exact

meaning of these restrictions is generally obscure. Thus the Tsimshian

Indians of British Columbia believe that twins control the weather;

therefore they pray to wind and rain, “Calm down, breath of the twins.”

Further, they think that the wishes of twins are always fulfilled;

hence twins are feared, because they can harm the man they hate. They

can also call the salmon and the olachen or candle-fish, and so they

are {p263} known by a name which means “making plentiful.”​[894] In

the opinion of the Kwakiutl Indians of British Columbia twins are

transformed salmon; hence they may not go near water, lest they should

be changed back again into the fish. In their childhood they can summon

any wind by motions of their hands, and they can make fair or foul

weather, and also cure diseases by swinging a large wooden rattle.

Their parents must live secluded in the woods for sixteen months after

the birth, doing no work, borrowing nobody’s canoes, paddles, or

dishes, and keeping their faces painted red all the time. If the father

were to catch salmon, or the mother were to dig clams, the salmon and

the clams would disappear. Moreover the parents separate from each

other, and must pretend to be married to a log, with which they lie

down every night. They are forbidden to touch each other, and even

their own hair. A year after the birth they drive wedges into a tree

in the woods, asking it to let them work again when four more months

have passed.​[895] The Nootka Indians of British Columbia also believe

that twins are somehow related to salmon. Hence among them twins may

not catch salmon, and they may not eat or even handle the fresh fish.

They can make fair or foul weather, and can cause rain to fall by

painting their faces black and then washing them, which may represent

the rain dripping from the dark clouds.​[896] Conversely, among the

Angoni of Central Africa there is a woman who stops rain by tying a

strip of white calico round her black head,​[897] probably in imitation

of the sky clearing after a heavy storm. The parents of twins among the

Nootkas must build a small hut in the woods on the bank of a river,

far from the village, and there they must live for two years, avoiding

other people; they may not eat or even touch fresh food, particularly

salmon. {p264} Wooden images and masks of birds and fish are placed

round the hut, and others, representing fish, are set near the river

for the purpose of inviting all birds and fish to come and see the

twins, and be friendly to them. Moreover the father sings a special

song praising the salmon, and asking them to come. And the fish do

come in great numbers to see the twins. Therefore the birth of twins

is believed to prognosticate a good year for salmon.​[898] But though

a Nootka father of twins has thus to live in seclusion for two years,

abstaining from fresh meat, and attending none of the ordinary feasts,

he is, by a singular exception, invited to banquets which consist

wholly of dried provisions, and at them he is treated with great

respect and seated among the chiefs, even though he be himself a mere

commoner. The birth of twins among the Nootkas is said to be very rare,

but one occurred while Jewitt lived with the tribe. He reports that the

father always appeared very thoughtful and gloomy, and never associated

with other people. “His dress was very plain, and he wore around his

head the red fillet of bark, the symbol of mourning and devotion. It

was his daily practice to repair to the mountain, with a chief’s rattle

in his hand, to sing and pray, as Maquina informed me, for the fish to

come into their waters. When not thus employed, he kept continually at

home, except when sent for to sing and perform his ceremonies over the

sick, being considered as a sacred character, and one much in favour

with their gods.”​[899] Among the Thompson Indians of British Columbia

twins were called “grizzly-bear children” or “hairy feet,” because

they were thought to be under the protection of the grizzly bear, and

to be endowed by him with special powers, such as that of making fair

or foul weather. After their birth the parents moved away from other

people, and lived in a lodge made of fir-boughs and bark till the

children were about four years old. During all this time great care was

taken of the twins. They might not come into contact with other people,

and were washed with fir-twigs dipped in water. While they were being

{p265} washed, the father described circles round them with fir-boughs,

singing the song of the grizzly bear.​[900] With these American beliefs

we may compare an African one. The negroes of Porto Novo, on the Bight

of Benin, hold that twins have for their companions certain spirits or

genii like those which animate a kind of small ape, which abounds in

the forests of Guinea. When the twins grow up, they will not be allowed

to eat the flesh of apes, and meantime the mother carries offerings of

bananas and other dainties to the apes in the forest.​[901] Precisely

similar beliefs and customs as to twins prevail in the Ho tribe of

German Togoland. There the twins are called “children of apes”; neither

they nor their parents may eat the flesh of the particular species

of apes with which they are associated; and if a hunter kills one of

these animals, the parents must beat him with a stick.​[902] But to

return to America. The Shuswap Indians of British Columbia, like the

Thompson Indians, associate twins with the grizzly bear, for they call

them “young grizzly bears.” According to them, twins remain throughout

life endowed with supernatural powers. In particular they can make good

or bad weather. They produce rain by spilling water from a basket in

the air; they make fine weather by shaking a small flat piece of wood

attached to a stick by a string; they raise storms by strewing down on

the ends of spruce branches.​[903]

[Sidenote: Superstitions as to twins among the Indians of Peru.]

The Indians of Peru entertained similar notions as to {p266} the special

relation in which twins stand to the rain and the weather. For they

said that one of each pair of twins was a son of the lightning; and

they called the lightning the lord and creator of rain, and prayed to

him to send showers. The parents of twins had to fast for many days

after the birth, abstaining from salt and pepper, and they might not

have intercourse with each other. In some parts of Peru this period

of fasting and abstinence lasted six months. In other parts both the

father and mother had to lie down on one side, with one leg drawn up,

and a bean placed in the hollow of the ham. In this position they had

to lie without moving for five days, till with the heat and sweat of

their bodies the beans began to sprout. Then they changed over to the

other side, and lay on it in like manner for other five days, fasting

in the way described. When the ten days were up, their relations went

out to hunt, and having killed and skinned a deer they made a robe of

its hide, under which they caused the parents of the twins to pass,

with cords about their necks which they afterwards wore for many days.

If the twins died young, their bodies, enclosed in pots, were kept in

the house as sacred things. But if they lived, and it happened that a

frost set in, the priests sent for them, together with all persons who

had hare-lips or had been born feet foremost, and rated them soundly

for being the cause of the frost, in that they had not fasted from

salt and pepper. Wherefore they were ordered to fast for ten days

in the usual manner, and to abstain from their wives, and to wash

themselves, and to acknowledge and confess their sins. After their

nominal conversion to Christianity, the Peruvian Indians retained their

belief that one of twins was always the son of the lightning, and oddly

enough they regularly gave him the name of St. James (Santiago). The

Spanish Jesuit, who reports the custom, was at a loss to account for

it. It could not, he thought, have originated in the name of Boanerges,

or “sons of thunder,” which Christ applied to the two brothers James

and John.​[904] He suggests two explanations. {p267} The Indians may

have adopted the name because they had heard a phrase used by Spanish

children when it thunders, “The horse of Santiago is running.” Or it

may have been because they saw that the Spanish infantry in battle,

before they fired their arquebuses, always cried out “Santiago!

Santiago!” For the Indians called an arquebuse _illapa_, that is,

“lightning,” and they might easily imagine that the name which they

heard shouted just before the flash and roar of the guns was that of

the Spanish god of thunder and lightning. However they came by the

name, they made such frequent and superstitious use of it that the

church forbade any Indian to bear the name of Santiago.​[905]

[Sidenote: Superstitions as to twins in Africa.]

The same power of influencing the weather is attributed to twins by the

Baronga, a tribe of Bantu negroes who inhabit the shores of Delagoa Bay

in south-eastern Africa. They bestow the name of _Tilo_—that is, the

sky—on a woman who has given birth to twins, and the infants themselves

are called the children of the sky. Now when the storms which generally

burst in the months of September and October have been looked for in

vain, when a drought with its prospect of famine is threatening, and

all nature, scorched and burnt up by a sun that has shone for six

months from a cloudless sky, is panting for the beneficent showers of

the South African spring, the women perform ceremonies to bring down

the longed-for rain on the parched earth. Stripping themselves of all

their garments, they assume in their stead girdles and head-dresses

of grass, or short petticoats made of the leaves of a particular sort

of creeper. Thus attired, uttering peculiar cries and singing ribald

songs, they go about from well to well, cleansing them of the mud

and impurities which have accumulated in them. The wells, it may be

said, are merely holes in the sand where a little turbid unwholesome

water stagnates. Further, the women must repair to the house of one

of their gossips who has given birth to twins, and must drench her

with water, which they carry in little pitchers. Having done so they

go on their way, shrieking {p268} out their loose songs and dancing

immodest dances. No man may see these leaf-clad women going their

rounds. If they meet a man, they maul him and thrust him aside. When

they have cleansed the wells, they must go and pour water on the graves

of their ancestors in the sacred grove. It often happens, too, that

at the bidding of the wizard they go and pour water on the graves of

twins. For they think that the grave of a twin ought always to be

moist, for which reason twins are regularly buried near a lake. If

all their efforts to procure rain prove abortive, they will remember

that such and such a twin was buried in a dry place on the side of

a hill. “No wonder,” says the wizard in such a case, “that the sky

is fiery. Take up his body and dig him a grave on the shore of the

lake.” His orders are at once obeyed, for this is supposed to be the

only means of bringing down the rain. The Swiss missionary who reports

this strange superstition has also suggested what appears to be its

true explanation. He points out that as the mother of twins is called

by the Baronga “the sky,” they probably think that to pour water on

her is equivalent to pouring water on the sky itself; and if water

be poured on the sky, it will of course drip through it, as through

the nozzle of a gigantic watering-pot, and fall on the earth beneath.

A slight extension of the same train of reasoning explains why the

desired result is believed to be expedited by drenching the graves of

twins, who are the Children of the Sky.​[906] Among the Zulus twins

are supposed to be able to foretell the weather, and people who want

rain will go to a twin and say, “Tell me, do you feel ill to-day?”

If he says he feels quite well, they know it will not rain.​[907]

The Wanyamwesi, a large tribe of Central Africa, to the south of the

Victoria Nyanza, also believe in the special association of twins with

water. For amongst them, when a twin is about to cross a river, stream,

or lake, he must fill his mouth full of water and spirt it out over the

surface of the river or lake, adding, “I am a twin” (_nänä mpassa_).

{p269} And he must do the same if a storm arises on a lake over which he

is sailing. Were he to omit the ceremony, some harm might befall him

or his companions. In this tribe the birth of twins is comparatively

common and is attended by a number of ceremonies. Old women march about

the village collecting gifts for the infants, while they drum with a

hoe on a piece of ox-hide and sing an obscene song in praise of the

father. Further, two little fetish huts are built for the twins before

their mother’s house, and here people sacrifice for them in season and

out of season, especially when somebody is sick or about to go on a

journey or to the wars. If one or both twins die, two aloes are planted

beside the little fetish hut.​[908] Lastly, the Hindoos of the Central

Provinces in India believe that a twin can save the crops from the

ravages of hail and heavy rain if he will only paint his right buttock

black and his left buttock some other colour, and thus adorned go and

stand in the direction of the wind.​[909]

[Sidenote: The rain-maker assimilates himself to rain.]

Many of the foregoing facts strongly support an interpretation

which Professor Oldenberg has given of the rules to be observed by

a Brahman who would learn a particular hymn of the ancient Indian

collection known as the Samaveda. The hymn, which bears the name of

the Ṣakvarī song, was believed to embody the might of Indra’s weapon,

the thunderbolt; and hence, on account of the dreadful and dangerous

potency with which it was thus charged, the bold student who essayed to

master it had to be isolated from his fellow-men, and to retire from

the village into the forest. Here for a space of time, which might

vary, according to different doctors of the law, from one to twelve

years, he had to observe certain rules of life, among which were the

following. Thrice a day he had to touch water; he must wear black

{p270} garments and eat black food; when it rained, he might not seek

the shelter of a roof, but had to sit in the rain and say, “Water is

the Ṣakvarī song”; when the lightning flashed he said, “That is like

the Ṣakvarī song”; when the thunder pealed he said, “The Great One is

making a great noise.” He might never cross a running stream without

touching water; he might never set foot on a ship unless his life were

in danger, and even then he must be sure to touch water when he went

on board; “for in water,” so ran the saying, “lies the virtue of the

Ṣakvarī song.” When at last he was allowed to learn the song itself, he

had to dip his hands in a vessel of water in which plants of all sorts

had been placed. If a man walked in the way of all these precepts, the

rain-god Parjanya, it was said, would send rain at the wish of that

man. It is clear, as Professor Oldenberg well points out, that “all

these rules are intended to bring the Brahman into union with water,

to make him, as it were, an ally of the water powers, and to guard him

against their hostility. The black garments and the black food have the

same significance; no one will doubt that they refer to the rain-clouds

when he remembers that a black victim is sacrificed to procure rain;

‘it is black, for such is the nature of rain.’ In respect of another

rain-charm it is said plainly, ‘He puts on a black garment edged with

black, for such is the nature of rain.’ We may therefore assume that

here in the circle of ideas and ordinances of the Vedic schools there

have been preserved magical practices of the most remote antiquity,

which were intended to prepare the rain-maker for his office and

dedicate him to it.”​[910]

[Sidenote: On the contrary, the maker of dry weather must himself be

dry.]

It is interesting to observe that where an opposite result is desired,

primitive logic enjoins the weather-doctor to observe precisely

opposite rules of conduct. In the tropical island of Java, where the

rich vegetation attests the abundance of the rainfall, ceremonies

for the making of rain are rare, but ceremonies for the prevention

of it are not uncommon. When a man is about to give a great feast

in the rainy season and has invited many people, he goes to a {p271}

weather-doctor and asks him to “prop up the clouds that may be

lowering.” If the doctor consents to exert his professional powers,

he begins to regulate his behaviour by certain rules as soon as his

customer has departed. He must observe a fast, and may neither drink

nor bathe; what little he eats must be eaten dry, and in no case may

he touch water. The host, on his side, and his servants, both male and

female, must neither wash clothes nor bathe so long as the feast lasts,

and they have all during its continuance to observe strict chastity.

The doctor seats himself on a new mat in his bedroom, and before a

small oil-lamp he murmurs, shortly before the feast takes place,

the following prayer or incantation: “Grandfather and Grandmother

Sroekoel” (the name seems to be taken at random; others are sometimes

used), “return to your country. Akkemat is your country. Put down your

water-cask, close it properly, that not a drop may fall out.” While

he utters this prayer the sorcerer looks upwards, burning incense the

while.​[911] So among the Toradjas of Central Celebes the rain-doctor

(_sando_), whose special business it is to drive away rain, takes

care not to touch water before, during, or after the discharge of his

professional duties. He does not bathe, he eats with unwashed hands,

he drinks nothing but palm wine, and if he has to cross a stream he is

careful not to step in the water. Having thus prepared himself for his

task he has a small hut built for himself outside of the village in

a rice-field, and in this hut he keeps up a little fire, which on no

account may be suffered to go out. In the fire he burns various kinds

of wood, which are supposed to possess the property of driving off

rain; and he puffs in the direction from which the rain threatens to

come, holding in his hand a packet of leaves and bark which derive a

similar cloud-compelling virtue, not from their chemical composition,

but from their names, which happen to signify something dry or

volatile. If clouds should appear in the sky while he is at work, he

takes lime in the hollow of his hand and blows it towards them. The

lime, being so very dry, is obviously well adapted to disperse the

damp clouds. Should rain afterwards be wanted, he {p272} has only

to pour water on his fire, and immediately the rain will descend in

sheets.​[912] So in Santa Cruz and Reef islands, when the man who has

power over rain wishes to prevent it from falling, he will abstain from

washing his face for a long time and will do no work, lest he should

sweat and his body be wet; “for they think that if his body be wet it

will rain.” On the other hand when he desires to bring on rain, he

goes into the house where the spirit or ghost of the rain is believed

to reside, and there he sprinkles water at the head of the ghost-post

(_duka_) in order that showers may fall.​[913]

[Sidenote: To make wet weather you must be wet; to make dry weather you

must be dry.]

The reader will observe how exactly the Javanese and Toradja

observances, which are intended to prevent rain, form the antithesis of

the Indian observances, which aim at producing it. The Indian sage is

commanded to touch water thrice a day regularly as well as on various

special occasions; the Javanese and Toradja wizards may not touch it

at all. The Indian lives out in the forest, and even when it rains he

may not take shelter; the Javanese and the Toradja sit in a house or a

hut. The one signifies his sympathy with water by receiving the rain on

his person and speaking of it respectfully; the others light a lamp or

a fire and do their best to drive the rain away. Yet the principle on

which all three act is the same; each of them, by a sort of childish

make-believe, identifies himself with the phenomenon which he desires

to produce. It is the old fallacy that the effect resembles its cause:

if you would make wet weather, you must be wet; if you would make dry

weather, you must be dry.

[Sidenote: Rain-making in south-eastern Europe by drenching with water

a leaf-clad girl or boy who represents vegetation.

Rain-making in Servia.

Rain-making in Roumania.

Rain-making in Bulgaria.

Rain-making in Macedonia and Dalmatia.

The King of Rain in India.]

In south-eastern Europe at the present day ceremonies are observed for

the purpose of making rain which not only rest on the same general

train of thought as the preceding, but even in their details resemble

the ceremonies practised with the same intention by the Baronga of

Delagoa Bay. Among the Greeks of Thessaly and Macedonia, when a drought

has lasted a long time, it is customary to send a {p273} procession of

children round to all the wells and springs of the neighbourhood. At

the head of the procession walks a girl adorned with flowers, whom her

companions drench with water at every halting-place, while they sing an

invocation, of which the following is part:—

_Perperia, all fresh bedewed,_

_Freshen all the neighbourhood;_

_By the woods, on the highway,_

_As thou goest, to God now pray:_

_O my God, upon the plain,_

_Send thou us a still, small rain;_

_That the fields may fruitful be,_

_And vines in blossom we may see;_

_That the grain be full and sound,_

_And wealthy grow the folks around._​[914]

In time of drought the Servians strip a girl to her skin and clothe her

from head to foot in grass, herbs, and flowers, even her face being

hidden behind a veil of living green. Thus disguised she is called the

Dodola, and goes through the village with a troop of girls. They stop

before every house; the Dodola keeps turning herself round and dancing,

while the other girls form a ring about her singing one of the Dodola

songs, and the housewife pours a pail of water over her. One of the

songs they sing runs thus:—

_We go through the village;_

_The clouds go in the sky;_

_We go faster,_

_Faster go the clouds;_

_They have overtaken us,_

_And wetted the corn and the vine._

A similar custom is observed in Greece and Roumania.​[915] In Roumania

the rain-maker is called Paparuda or Babaruda. She is a gypsy girl,

who goes naked except for a short skirt of dwarf elder (_Sambucus

ebulus_) or of corn and vines. Thus scantily attired the girls go in

procession from house to house, singing for rain, and are drenched

by {p274} the people with buckets of water. The ceremony regularly

takes place all over Roumania on the third Tuesday after Easter, but

it may be repeated at any time of drought during the summer. But the

Roumanians have another way of procuring rain. They make a clay figure

to represent Drought, cover it with a pall, and place it in an open

coffin. Girls crouch round the coffin and lament, saying, “Drought

(_Scaloi_) is dead! Lord, give us rain!” Then the coffin is carried by

children in funeral procession, with a burning wax candle before it,

while lamentations fill the air. Finally, they throw the coffin and the

candle into a stream or a well.​[916] When rain is wanted in Bulgaria

the people dress up a girl in branches of nut-trees, flowers, and the

green stuff of beans, potatoes, and onions. She carries a nosegay of

flowers in her hand, and is called Djuldjul or Peperuga. Attended by a

train of followers she goes from house to house, and is received by the

goodman with a kettleful of water, on which flowers are swimming. With

this water he drenches her, while a song is sung:—

_The Peperuga flew;_

_God give rain,_

_That the corn, the millet, and the wheat may thrive._

Sometimes the girl is dressed in flax to the girdle.​[917] At Melenik,

a Greek town in Macedonia, a poor orphan boy parades the streets in

time of drought, decked with ferns and flowers, and attended by other

boys of about the same age. The women shower water and money on him

from the windows. He is called Dudulé, and as they march along the

boys sing a song, which begins: “Hail, hail, Dudulé, (bring us) both

maize and wheat.”​[918] In Dalmatia also the custom is observed.

The performer is a young unmarried man, who is dressed up, dances,

and has water poured over him. He goes by the name of Prpats, and

is attended by companions called Prporushe, who are young bachelors

like himself.​[919] In such customs the leaf-clad person appears to

{p275} personify vegetation, and the drenching of him or her with water

is certainly an imitation of rain. The words of the Servian song,

however, taken in connexion with the constant movement which the chief

actress in the performance seems expected to keep up, points to some

comparison of the girl or her companions to clouds moving through the

sky. This again reminds us of the odd quivering movement kept up by the

Australian rain-maker, who, in his disguise of white down, may perhaps

represent a cloud.​[920] At Poona in India, when rain is needed, the

boys dress up one of their number in nothing but leaves and call him

King of Rain (_Mrüj raja_). Then they go round to every house in the

village, where the householder or his wife sprinkles the Rain King with

water, and gives the party food of various kinds. When they have thus

visited all the houses, they strip the Rain King of his leafy robes and

feast upon what they have gathered.​[921]

[Sidenote: Rain-making in Armenia.

Rain-making in Palestine and Moab.]

Similar rain-charms are practised in Armenia, except that there the

representative of vegetation is an effigy or doll, not a person. The

children dress up a broomstick as a girl and carry it from house to

house. Before every house they sing a song, of which the following is

one version:—

_Nurin, Nurin is come,_

_The wondrous maiden is come._

_A shirt of red stuff has she put on,_

_With a red girdle is she girded,_

_Bring water to pour on her head,_

_Bring butter to smear on her hair._

_Let the blessed rain fall,_

_Let the fields of your fathers grow green._

_Give our Nurin her share,_

_And we will eat and drink and be merry._

The children are asked, “Will you have it from the door or from the

garret-window?” If they choose the door, the water is poured on Nurin

from the window; and if they choose the window, it is poured on her

from the door. At each house they receive presents of butter, eggs,

rice, and so {p276} forth. Afterwards they take Nurin to a river and

throw her into the water. Sometimes the figure has the head of a pig

or a goat, and is covered with boughs.​[922] At Egin in Armenia, when

rain is wanted, boys carry about an effigy which they call Chi-chi Mama

or “the drenched Mother,” as they interpret the phrase. As they go

about they ask, “What does Chi-chi Mother want?” The answer is, “She

wants wheat in her bins, she wants bread on her bread-hooks, and she

wants rain from God!” The people pour water on her from the roofs, and

rich people make presents to the children.​[923] At Ourfa in Armenia

the children in time of drought make a rain-bride, which they call

Chimché-gelin. They say this means in Turkish “shovel-bride.” While

they carry it about they say, “What does Chimché-gelin want? She wishes

mercy from God: she wants offerings of lambs and rams.” And the crowd

responds, “Give, my God, give rain, give a flood.” The rain-bride is

then thrown into the water.​[924] At Kerak in Palestine, whenever there

is a drought, the Greek Christians dress up a winnowing-fork in women’s

clothes. They call it “the bride of God.” The girls and women carry it

from house to house, singing doggerel songs.​[925] We are not told that

“the bride of God” is drenched with water or thrown into a stream, but

the charm would hardly be complete without this feature. Similarly,

when rain is much wanted, the Arabs of Moab attire a dummy in the robes

and ornaments of a woman and call it “the Mother of the Rain.” A woman

carries it in procession past the houses of the village or the tents of

the camp, singing:—

_O Mother of the Rain, O Immortal, moisten our sleeping

seeds._

_Moisten the sleeping seeds of the sheikh, who is ever

generous._

_She is gone, the Mother of the Rain, to bring the storm;

when she comes back, the crops are as high as the walls._

_She is gone, the Mother of the Rain, to bring the winds;

when she comes back, the plantations have attained the

height of lances._

_She is gone, the Mother of the Rain, to bring the

thunders; when she comes back, the crops are as high as

camels._

And so on.​[926] {p277}

[Sidenote: Rain-making by bathing and sprinkling of water.

Curses supposed to cause rain.]

Bathing is practised as a rain-charm in some parts of southern and

western Russia. Sometimes after service in church the priest in his

robes has been thrown down on the ground and drenched with water by

his parishioners. Sometimes it is the women who, without stripping off

their clothes, bathe in crowds on the day of St. John the Baptist,

while they dip in the water a figure made of branches, grass, and

herbs, which is supposed to represent the saint.​[927] In Kursk, a

province of southern Russia, when rain is much wanted, the women seize

a passing stranger and throw him into the river, or souse him from

head to foot.​[928] Later on we shall see that a passing stranger

is often taken for a deity or the personification of some natural

power. It is recorded in official documents that during a drought in

1790 the peasants of Scheroutz and Werboutz collected all the women

and compelled them to bathe, in order that rain might fall.​[929] An

Armenian rain-charm is to throw the wife of a priest into the water

and drench her.​[930] The Arabs of North Africa fling a holy man,

willy-nilly, into a spring as a remedy for drought.​[931] In Minahassa,

a province of North Celebes, the priest bathes as a rain-charm.​[932]

In Central Celebes when there has been no rain for a long time and the

rice-stalks begin to shrivel up, many of the villagers, especially

the young folk, go to a neighbouring brook and splash each other with

water, shouting noisily, or squirt water on one another through bamboo

tubes. Sometimes they imitate the plump of rain by smacking the surface

of the water with their hands, or by placing an inverted gourd on it

and drumming on the gourd with their fingers.​[933] The Karo-Bataks

of Sumatra have a rain-making ceremony which lasts a week. The men go

about with bamboo squirts and the women with {p278} bowls of water,

and they drench each other or throw the water into the air and cry,

“The rain has come,” when it drips down on them.​[934] In Kumaon, a

district of north-west India, when rain fails they sink a Brahman up to

his lips in a tank or pond, where he repeats the name of a god of rain

for a day or two. When this rite is duly performed, rain is sure to

fall.​[935] For the same purpose village girls in the Punjaub will pour

a solution of cow-dung in water upon an old woman who happens to pass;

or they will make her sit down under the roof-spout of a house and get

a wetting when it rains.​[936] In the Solok district of Sumatra, when

a drought has lasted a long time, a number of half-naked women take a

half-witted man to a river; and there besprinkle him with water as a

means of compelling the rain to fall.​[937] In some parts of Bengal,

when drought threatens the country, troops of children of all ages go

from house to house and roll and tumble in puddles which have been

prepared for the purpose by pouring water into the courtyards. This

is supposed to bring down rain. Again, in Dubrajpur, a village in the

Birbhum district of Bengal, when rain has been looked for in vain,

people will throw dirt or filth on the houses of their neighbours,

who abuse them for doing so. Or they drench the lame, the halt, the

blind, and other infirm persons, and are reviled for their pains by

the victims. This vituperation is believed to bring about the desired

result by drawing down showers on the parched earth.​[938] Similarly,

in the Shahpur district of the Punjaub it is said to be customary in

time of drought to spill a pot of filth on the threshold of a notorious

old shrew, in order that the fluent stream of foul language in which

she vents her feelings may accelerate the lingering rain.​[939] {p279}

[Sidenote: Beneficial effect of curses and abuse.]

In these latter customs the means adopted for bringing about the

desired result appear to be not so much imitative magic as the

beneficent effect which, curiously enough, is often attributed to

curses and maledictions.​[940] Thus in the Indian district of Behar

much virtue is ascribed to abuse, which is supposed in some cases

to bring good luck. People, for example, who accompany a marriage

procession to the bride’s house are often foully abused by the women

of the bride’s family in the belief that this contributes to the good

fortune of the newly-married pair. So in Behar on Jamadwitiya Day,

which falls on the second day of the bright period of the moon next

to that during which the Dussera festival takes place, brothers are

reviled by sisters to their heart’s content because it is thought

that this will prolong the lives of the brothers and bring them good

luck.​[941] Further, in Behar and Bengal it is deemed very unlucky to

look at the new moon of Bhadon (August); whoever does so is sure to

meet with some mishap, or to be falsely accused of something. To avert

these evils people are commonly advised to throw stones or brickbats

into their neighbours’ houses; for if they do so, and are reviled

for their pains, they will escape the threatened evils, and their

neighbours who abused them will suffer in their stead. Hence the day

of the new moon in this month is called the Day of Stones. At Benares

a regular festival is held for this purpose on the fourth day of

Bhadon, which is known as “the clod festival of the fourth.”​[942] On

the Khurda estate in Orissa gardens and fruit-trees are conspicuously

absent. The peasants explain their absence by saying that from time

immemorial they have held it lucky to be annoyed and abused by their

neighbours at a certain festival, which answers to the Nashti-Chandra

in Bengal. Hence in order to give ample ground of offence they mutilate

the fruit-trees and trample down the gardens of their neighbours, and

so court fortune by drawing down on themselves {p280} the wrath of the

injured owners.​[943] At Cranganore, in the Native State of Cochin,

there is a shrine of the goddess Bhagavati, which is much frequented

by pilgrims in the month of Minam (March-April). From all parts of

Cochin, Malabar, and Travancore crowds flock to attend the festival and

the highroads ring with their shouts of _Nada nada_, “March! march!”

They desecrate the shrine of the goddess in every conceivable way,

discharge volleys of stones and filth, and level the most opprobrious

language at the goddess herself. These proceedings are supposed to

be acceptable to her. The intention of the pilgrimage is to secure

immunity from disease during the succeeding year.​[944] In some cases a

curse may, like rags and dirt, be supposed to benefit a man by making

him appear vile and contemptible, and thus diverting from him the evil

eye and other malignant influences, which are attracted by beauty and

prosperity but repelled by their opposites. Among the Huzuls of the

Carpathians, if a herdsman or cattle-owner suspects himself of having

the evil eye, he will charge one of his household to call him a devil

or a robber every time he goes near the cattle; for he thinks that

this will undo the effect of the evil eye.​[945] Among the Chams of

Cambodia and Annam, while a corpse is being burned on the pyre, a man

who bears the title of the Master of Sorrows remains in the house of

the deceased and loads it with curses, after which he beseeches the

ghost not to come back and torment his family.​[946] These last curses

are clearly intended to make his old home unattractive to the spirit of

the dead. Esthonian fishermen believe that they never have such good

luck as when some one is angry with them and curses them. Hence before

a fisherman goes out to fish, he will play a rough practical joke on a

comrade in order to be abused and execrated by him. The more his friend

storms and curses, the better he is pleased; every curse brings at

least three {p281} fish into his net.​[947] There is a popular belief

in Berlin and the neighbourhood that if you wish a huntsman good luck

when he is going out to shoot deer he will be certain never to get a

shot at all. To avert the ill luck caused by such a wish the hunter

must throw a broomstick at the head of his well-wisher. If he is really

to have luck, you must wish that he may break his neck, or both his

neck and his legs. The wish is expressed with pregnant brevity in the

phrase, “Now then, neck and leg!”​[948] The intention of such curses

may be to put the fish or the deer off their guard; for, as we shall

see later on, animals are commonly supposed to understand human speech,

and even to overhear what is said of them many miles off. Accordingly

if they hear a fisherman or a hunter flouted and vituperated, they

will think too meanly of him to go out of his way, and so will fall

an easy prey to his net or his gun. When a Greek sower sowed cummin

he had to curse and swear, or the crop would not turn out well.​[949]

Roman writers mention a similar custom observed by the sowers of rue

and basil;​[950] and hedge doctors in ancient Greece laid it down as

a rule that in cutting black hellebore you should face eastward and

curse.​[951] Perhaps the bitter language was supposed to strengthen

the bitter taste, and hence the medicinal virtue, of these plants. At

Lindus in the island of Rhodes it was customary to sacrifice one or two

plough oxen to Hercules with curses and imprecations; indeed we are

told that the sacrifice was deemed invalid if a good word fell from

any one’s lips during the rite. The custom was explained by a legend

that Hercules had laid hands on the oxen of a ploughman and cooked and

devoured them, while their owner, unable to defend his beasts, stood

afar off and vented his anger in a torrent of abuse and execration.

Hercules received his maledictions with a roar of laughter, appointed

him his priest, and bade him always sacrifice with the very same

execrations, for he had never {p282} dined better in his life.​[952]

The legend is plainly a fiction devised to explain the ritual. We may

conjecture that the curses were intended to palliate the slaughter of a

sacred animal. The subject will be touched on in a later part of this

work. Here we must return to rain-making.

[Sidenote: Rain-making by ploughing.]

Women are sometimes supposed to be able to make rain by ploughing, or

pretending to plough. Thus the Pshaws and Chewsurs of the Caucasus

have a ceremony called “ploughing the rain,” which they observe

in time of drought. Girls yoke themselves to a plough and drag it

into a river, wading in the water up to their girdles.​[953] In the

same circumstances Armenian girls and women do the same. The oldest

woman, or the priest’s wife, wears the priest’s dress, while the

others, dressed as men, drag the plough through the water against the

stream.​[954] In the Caucasian province of Georgia, when a drought has

lasted long, marriageable girls are yoked in couples with an ox-yoke

on their shoulders, a priest holds the reins, and thus harnessed they

wade through rivers, puddles, and marshes, praying, screaming, weeping,

and laughing.​[955] In a district of Transylvania, when the ground is

parched with drought, some girls strip themselves naked, and, led by an

older woman, who is also naked, they steal a harrow and carry it across

the fields to a brook, where they set it afloat. Next they sit on the

harrow and keep a tiny flame burning on each corner of it for an hour.

Then they leave the harrow in the water and go home.​[956] A similar

rain-charm is resorted to in some parts of India; naked women drag a

plough across a field by night, while the men keep carefully out of

the way, for their presence would break the spell.​[957] As performed

at {p283} Chunar in Bengal on the twenty-fourth of July 1891 the

ceremony was this. Between nine and ten in the evening a barber’s wife

went from door to door and invited the women to engage in ploughing.

They all assembled in a field from which men were excluded. Three

women of a husbandman’s family then stripped themselves naked; two

of them were yoked like oxen to the plough, while the third held the

handle. They next began to imitate the operation of ploughing. The one

who held the plough cried out, “O mother earth! bring parched grain,

water, and chaff. Our stomachs are breaking to pieces from hunger and

thirst.” Then the landlord and accountant approached them and laid

down some grain, water, and chaff in the field. After that the women

dressed and returned home. “By the grace of God,” adds the gentleman

who reports the ceremony, “the weather changed almost immediately, and

we had a good shower.”​[958] Sometimes as they draw the plough the

women sing a hymn to Vishnu, in which they seek to enlist his sympathy

by enumerating the ills which the people are suffering from the want

of rain. In some cases they discharge volleys of abuse at the village

officials, and even at the landlord, whom they compel to drag the

plough.​[959] These ceremonies are all the more remarkable because

in ordinary circumstances Hindoo women never engage in agricultural

operations like ploughing and harrowing. Yet in drought it seems to

be women of the highest or Brahman caste who are chosen to perform

what at other times would be regarded as a menial and degrading task.

Occasionally, when hesitation is felt at subjecting Brahman ladies to

this indignity, they are allowed to get off by merely touching the

plough early in the morning, before people are astir; the real work

is afterwards done by the ploughmen.​[960] In Manipur the prosperity

of all classes {p284} depends on the abundance and regularity of the

rainfall; hence the people have many rites and ceremonies for the

making of rain. Thus in time of drought one hundred and eight girls

milk one hundred and eight cows in the temple of Govindji, the most

popular incarnation of Krishna in the country. If this fails, the women

throw their _dhan_-pounders into the nearest pool, and at the dead

of night strip themselves naked and plough.​[961] There is a Burmese

superstition that if a harrow has a flaw in it no rain will fall till

the faulty harrow has been decked with flowers, broken, and thrown

into the river. Further, the owner should have his hair cropped, and

being adorned with flowers should dance and carry the harrow to the

water. Otherwise the country is sure to suffer from drought.​[962] The

Tarahumare Indians of Mexico dip the plough in water before they use

it, that it may draw rain.​[963]

[Sidenote: Making rain by means of the dead.]