Caledonia the rain-makers blackened themselves all over, dug up a dead
body, took the bones to a cave, jointed them, and hung the skeleton
over some taro leaves. Water was poured over the skeleton to run down
on the leaves. They believed that the soul of the deceased took up the
water, converted it into rain, and showered it down again.[964] In
some parts of New Caledonia the {p285} ceremony is somewhat different.
A great quantity of provisions is offered to the ancestors, being
laid down before their skulls in the sacred place. In front of the
skulls a number of pots full of water are set in a row, and in each
pot there is deposited a sacred stone which has more or less the shape
of a skull. The rain-maker then prays to the ancestors to send rain.
After that he climbs a tree with a branch in his hand, which he waves
about to hasten the approach of the rain-clouds.[965] The ceremony
is a mixture of magic and religion; the prayers and offerings to the
ancestors are purely religious, while the placing of the skull-like
stones in water and the waving of the branch are magical. In Russia,
if common report may be believed, it is not long since the peasants
of any district that chanced to be afflicted with drought used to dig
up the corpse of some one who had drunk himself to death and sink it
in the nearest swamp or lake, fully persuaded that this would ensure
the fall of the needed rain. In 1868 the prospect of a bad harvest,
caused by a prolonged drought, induced the inhabitants of a village
in the Tarashchansk district to dig up the body of a Raskolnik, or
Dissenter, who had died in the preceding December. Some of the party
beat the corpse, or what was left of it, about the head, exclaiming,
“Give us rain!” while others poured water on it through a sieve.[966]
Here the pouring of water through a sieve seems plainly an imitation
of a shower, and reminds us of the manner in which Strepsiades in
Aristophanes imagined that rain was made by Zeus.[967] An Armenian
rain-charm is to dig up a skull and throw it into running water.[968]
At Ourfa for this purpose they prefer the skull of a Jew, which they
cast into the Pool of Abraham.[969] In Mysore people think that if a
leper is buried, instead of being burnt, as he ought to be, rain will
not fall. Hence they have been known to disinter buried lepers in time
of drought.[970] In Halmahera there is a practice of {p286} throwing
stones on a grave, in order that the ghost may fall into a passion and
avenge the disturbance, as he imagines, by sending heavy rain.[971]
This may explain a rain-charm which seems to have been practised by
the Mauretanians in antiquity. A mound in the shape of a man lying on
his back was pointed out as the grave of the giant Antaeus; and if
any earth were dug up and removed from it, rain fell till the soil
was replaced.[972] Perhaps the rain was the revenge the surly giant
took for being wakened from his long sleep. Sometimes, in order to
procure rain, the Toradjas of Central Celebes make an appeal to the
pity of the dead. Thus, in the village of Kalingooa, in Kadombookoo,
there is the grave of a famous chief, the grandfather of the present
ruler. When the land suffers from unseasonable drought, the people go
to this grave, pour water on it, and say, “O grandfather, have pity on
us; if it is your will that this year we should eat, then give rain.”
After that they hang a bamboo full of water over the grave; there is
a small hole in the lower end of the bamboo, so that the water drips
from it continually. The bamboo is always refilled with water until
rain drenches the ground.[973] Here, as in New Caledonia, we find
religion blent with magic, for the prayer to the dead chief, which is
purely religious, is eked out with a magical imitation of rain at his
grave. We have seen that the Baronga of Delagoa Bay drench the tombs of
their ancestors, especially the tombs of twins, as a rain-charm.[974]
In Zululand the native girls form a procession and carry large pots of
water to a certain tree which chances to be on a mission station. When
the girls were asked why they did this, they said that an old ancestor
of theirs had been buried under the tree, and as he was a great
rain-maker in his life, they always came and poured water on his grave
in time of drought, in order that he might send them rain.[975] This
ceremony partakes of the nature of religion, since it implies an appeal
for help to a deceased ancestor. Purely religious, on the other hand,
are {p287} some means adopted by the Herero of south-western Africa to
procure rain. If a drought has lasted long, the whole tribe goes with
its cattle to the grave of some eminent man; it may be the father or
grandfather of the chief. They lay offerings of milk and flesh on the
grave and utter their plaint: “Look, O Father, upon your beloved cattle
and children; they suffer distress, they are so lean, they are dying
of hunger. Give us rain.” The ears of the spectator are deafened by
the lowing and bleating of herds and flocks, the shouts of herdsmen,
the barking of dogs, and the screams of women.[976] Among some of
the Indian tribes in the region of the Orinoco it was customary for
the relations of a deceased person to disinter his bones a year after
burial, burn them, and scatter the ashes to the winds, because they
believed that the ashes were changed into rain, which the dead man sent
in return for his obsequies.[977] The Chinese are convinced that when
human bodies remain unburied, the souls of their late owners feel the
discomfort of rain, just as living men would do if they were exposed
without shelter to the inclemency of the weather. These wretched souls,
therefore, do all in their power to prevent the rain from falling, and
often their efforts are only too successful. Then drought ensues, the
most dreaded of all calamities in China, because bad harvests, dearth,
and famine follow in its train. Hence it has been a common practice of
the Chinese authorities in time of drought to inter the dry bones of
the unburied dead for the purpose of putting an end to the scourge and
conjuring down the rain.[978]
[Sidenote: Making rain by means of animals.]
Animals, again, often play an important part in these weather-charms.
The Anula tribe of northern Australia associate the dollar-bird with
rain, and call it the rain-bird. A man who has the bird for his totem
can make rain at a certain pool. He catches a snake, puts it alive into
the pool, and after holding it under water for a time takes it {p288}
out, kills it, and lays it down by the side of the creek. Then he
makes an arched bundle of grass stalks in imitation of a rainbow, and
sets it up over the snake. After that all he does is to sing over the
snake and the mimic rainbow; sooner or later the rain will fall. They
explain this procedure by saying that long ago the dollar-bird had as
a mate at this spot a snake, who lived in the pool and used to make
rain by spitting up into the sky till a rainbow and clouds appeared
and rain fell.[979] The Tjingilli of northern Australia make rain
in an odd way. One of them will catch a fat bandicoot and carry it
about, singing over it till the animal grows very thin and weak. Then
he lets it go, and rain will follow.[980] When some of the Blackfoot
Indians were at war in summer and wished to bring on a tempest, they
would take a kit-fox skin and rub it with dirt and water, which never
failed to be followed by a storm of rain.[981] The Thompson Indians of
British Columbia think that when the loon calls loud and often, it will
soon rain, and that to mimic the cry of the bird may bring the rain
down.[982] The fish called the small sculpin, which abounds along the
rocky shore of Norton Sound, is called by the Esquimaux the rain-maker;
they say that if a person takes one of these fish in his hand heavy
rain will follow.[983] If Aino fishermen desire to bring on rain and
wind, they pray to the skulls of racoons and then throw water over
each other. Should they wish the storm to increase they put on gloves
and caps of racoon-skin and dance. Then it blows great guns.[984] In
Ma-hlaing, a district of Upper Burma, when rain is scarce, the people
pray to a certain fish called _nga-yan_ to send it. They also catch
some fish and put them in a tub, while offerings of plantains and other
food are made to the monks in the name of the fish. After that the
fish are let loose in {p289} a stream or pond, with gold-leaf stuck
on their heads. If live fish are not to be had, wooden ones are used
and answer the purpose just as well.[985] When the Chirus of Manipur
wish to make rain they catch a crab and put it in a pot of water. Then
the headman goes to the gate of the village and keeps lifting the crab
out of the water and putting it back into it till he is tired.[986]
An ancient Indian mode of making rain was to throw an otter into the
water.[987] If the sky refuses rain and the cattle are perishing, an
Arab sheikh will sometimes stand in the middle of the camp and cry,
“Redeem yourselves, O people, redeem yourselves!” At these words every
family sacrifices a sheep, divides it in two, and hanging the pieces on
two poles passes between them. Children too young to walk are carried
by their mother.[988] But this custom has rather the appearance of
a sacrifice than of a charm. In southern Celebes people try to make
rain by carrying a cat tied in a sedan chair thrice round the parched
fields, while they drench it with water from bamboo squirts. When the
cat begins to miaul, they say, “O lord, let rain fall on us.”[989] A
common way of making rain in many parts of Java is to bathe a cat or
two cats, a male and a female; sometimes the animals are carried in
procession with music. Even in Batavia you may from time to time see
children going about with a cat for this purpose; when they have ducked
it in a pool, they let it go.[990] {p290}
[Sidenote: Making rain by means of black animals.]
Often in order to give effect to the rain-charm the animal must be
black. Thus an ancient Indian way of bringing on rain was to set a
black horse with his face to the west and rub him with a black cloth
till he neighed.[991] In the Beni-Chougran tribe of North Africa women
lead a black cow in procession, while other women sprinkle the whole
group with water as a means of wringing a shower from the sky.[992]
To procure rain the Peruvian Indians used to set a black sheep in a
field, poured _chica_ over it, and gave the animal nothing to eat
until rain fell.[993] Once when a drought lasting five months had
burnt up their pastures and withered the corn, the Caffres of Natal
had recourse to a famous witch, who promised to procure rain without
delay. A black sheep having been produced, an incision was made in
the animal near the shoulder and the gall taken out. Part of this the
witch rubbed over her own person, part she drank, part was mixed with
medicine. Some of the medicine was then rubbed on her body; the rest
of it, attached to a stick, was fixed in the fence of a calves’ pen.
The woman next harangued the clouds. When the sheep was to be cooked,
a new fire was procured by the friction of fire-sticks; in ordinary
circumstances a brand would have been taken from one of the huts.[994]
Among the Wambugwe, a Bantu people of eastern Africa, when the sorcerer
desires to make rain he takes a black sheep and a black calf in bright
sunshine, and has them placed upon the roof of the large common hut
in which the people live together. Then he slits open the stomachs of
the animals and scatters their contents in all directions. After that
he pours water and medicine into a vessel; if the charm has succeeded,
the water boils up and rain follows. On the other hand, if the sorcerer
wishes to prevent rain from falling, he withdraws into the interior of
the hut, and there heats a rock-crystal in a calabash.[995] In order
to procure rain the Wagogo of German East Africa sacrifice black fowls,
black sheep, and black cattle at the {p291} graves of dead ancestors,
and the rain-maker wears black clothes during the rainy season.[996]
Among the Matabele the rain-charm employed by sorcerers was made from
the blood and gall of a black ox.[997] In a district of Sumatra, in
order to procure rain, all the women of the village, scantily clad,
go to the river, wade into it, and splash each other with the water.
A black cat is thrown into the stream and made to swim about for a
while, then allowed to escape to the bank, pursued by the splashing of
the women.[998] The Garos of Assam offer a black goat on the top of
a very high mountain in time of drought.[999] In all these cases the
colour of the animal is part of the charm; being black, it will darken
the sky with rain-clouds. So the Bechuanas burn the stomach of an ox
at evening, because they say, “The black smoke will gather the clouds
and cause the rain to come.”[1000] The Timorese sacrifice a black pig
to the Earth-goddess for rain, a white or red one to the Sun-god for
sunshine.[1001] The Angoni, a tribe of Zulu descent to the north of
the Zambesi, sacrifice a black ox for rain and a white one for fine
weather.[1002] Among the high mountains of Japan there is a district
in which, if rain has not fallen for a long time, a party of villagers
goes in procession to the bed of a mountain torrent, headed by a
priest, who leads a black dog. At the chosen spot they tether the beast
to a stone, and make it a target for their bullets and arrows. When its
life-blood bespatters the rocks, the peasants throw down their weapons
and lift up their voices in supplication to the dragon divinity of the
{p292} stream, exhorting him to send down forthwith a shower to cleanse
the spot from its defilement. Custom has prescribed that on these
occasions the colour of the victim shall be black, as an emblem of the
wished-for rain-clouds. But if fine weather is wanted, the victim must
be white, without a spot.[1003]
[Sidenote: Frogs and toads in relation to rain.
Frogs used in rain-charms.]
The intimate association of frogs and toads with water has earned for
these creatures a widespread reputation as custodians of rain; and
hence they often play a part in charms designed to draw needed showers
from the sky. Some of the Indians of the Orinoco held the toad to be
the god or lord of the waters, and for that reason feared to kill the
creature, even when they were ordered to do so. They have been known
to keep frogs under a pot and to beat them with rods when there was a
drought.[1004] It is said that the Aymara Indians of Peru and Bolivia
often make little images of frogs and other aquatic animals and place
them on the tops of the hills as a means of bringing down rain.[1005]
In some parts of south-eastern Australia, where the rainfall is apt to
be excessive, the natives feared to injure Tidelek, the frog, or Bluk,
the bull-frog, because they were said to be full of water instead of
intestines, and great rains would follow if one of them were killed.
The frog family was often referred to as Bunjil Willung or Mr. Rain. A
tradition ran that once upon a time long ago the frog drank up all the
water in the lakes and rivers, and then sat in the dry {p293} reed beds
swollen to an enormous size, saying, “Bluk! bluk!” in a deep gurgling
voice. All the other animals wandered about gaping and gasping for a
drop of moisture, but finding none, they agreed that they must all
die of thirst unless they could contrive to make the frog laugh. So
they tried one after the other, but for a long time in vain. At last
the conger eel and his relations, hung round with lake grass and gay
sea-weed, reared themselves on their tails and pranced round the fire.
This was too much for the frog. He opened his mouth and laughed till
the water ran out and the lakes and streams were full once more.[1006]
We have seen that some of the Queensland aborigines imitate the
movements and cries of frogs as part of a rain-charm.[1007] The
Thompson River Indians of British Columbia and some people in Europe
think that to kill a frog brings on rain.[1008] In order to procure
rain people of low caste in the Central Provinces of India will tie a
frog to a rod covered with green leaves and branches of the _nîm_ tree
(_Azadirachta Indica_) and carry it from door to door singing—
_Send soon, O frog, the jewel of water!_
_And ripen the wheat and millet in the field._[1009]
In Kumaon, a district of north-western India, one way of bringing on
rain when it is needed is to hang a frog with its mouth up on a tall
bamboo or on a tree for a day or two. The notion is that the god of
rain, seeing the creature in trouble, will take pity on it and send the
rain.[1010] In the district of Muzaffarpur in India the vulgar believe
that the cry of a frog is most readily heard by the God of {p294} Rain.
Hence in a year of drought the low-caste females of a village assemble
at evening and put a frog in a small earthen pot together with water
taken from five different houses. The pot with the frog is then placed
in the hollow wooden cup into which the lever used for pounding rice
falls. Being raised with the foot and then allowed to drop, the lever
crushes the frog to death; and while the creature emits his dying croak
the women sing songs in a loud voice about the dearth of water.[1011]
The Kapus or Reddis are a large and prosperous caste of cultivators
and landowners in the Madras Presidency. When rain fails, women of the
caste will catch a frog and tie it alive to a new winnowing fan made
of bamboo. On this fan they spread a few margosa leaves and go from
door to door singing, “Lady frog must have her bath. Oh! rain-god,
give a little water for her at least.” While the Kapu women sing this
song, the woman of the house pours water over the frog and gives an
alms, convinced that by so doing she will soon bring rain down in
torrents.[1012] Again, in order to procure rain the Malas, who are the
pariahs of the Telugu country in Southern India, tie a live frog to a
mortar and put a mud figure of Gontiyalamma over it. Then they carry
the mortar, frog, and all in procession, singing, “Mother frog, playing
in water, pour rain by pots full,” while the villagers of other castes
pour water over them.[1013] Beliefs like these might easily develop
into a worship of frogs regarded as personifying the powers of water
and rain. In the Rig Veda there is a hymn about frogs which appears
to be substantially a rain-charm.[1014] The Newars, the aboriginal
inhabitants of Nepaul, worship the frog as a creature associated with
the demi-god Nagas in the production and control of rain and the
water-supply, on which the welfare of the crops depends. A sacred
character is attributed to the little animal, and every care is taken
not to molest or injure it. The worship of the frog is performed on
the seventh day of the month Kartik (October), usually at a {p295} pool
which is known to be frequented by frogs, although it is not essential
to the efficacy of the rite that a frog should be actually seen at the
time. After carefully washing his face and hands, the priest takes five
brazen bowls and places in them five separate offerings, namely, rice,
flowers, milk and vermilion, ghee and incense, and water. Lighting
the pile of ghee and incense, the priest says, “Hail, Paremêsvara
Bhûmînâtha! I pray you receive these offerings and send us timely rain,
and bless our crops!”[1015]
[Sidenote: Suggested explanation of connexion of frog with rain.]
Some of these customs and beliefs may be, at least in part, based on
the frog’s habit of storing up water in its body against seasons of
drought; when it is caught at such times, it squirts the water out in
a jet.[1016] On seeing a frog emit a gush of water when all around
was dry and parched, savages might easily infer that the creature had
caused the drought by swallowing all the water, and that in order to
restore its moisture to the thirsty ground they had only to make the
frog disgorge its secret store of the precious liquid.
[Sidenote: Stopping rain by means of rabbits and serpents.]
Among some tribes of South Africa, when too much rain falls, the
wizard, accompanied by a large crowd, repairs to the house of a
family where there has been no death for a very long time, and there
he burns the skin of a coney. As it burns he shouts, “The rabbit is
burning,” and the cry is taken up by the whole crowd, who continue
shouting till they are exhausted.[1017] This no doubt is supposed
to stop the rain. Equally effective is a method adopted by gypsies
in Austria. When the rain has continued to pour steadily for a long
time, to the great discomfort of these homeless vagrants, the men of
the band assemble at a river and divide themselves into two parties.
Some of them cut branches with which to make a raft, while the others
collect hazel leaves and cover the raft with them. A witch thereupon
lays a dried serpent, wrapt {p296} in white rags, on the raft, which
is then carried by several men to the river. Women are not allowed to
be present at this part of the ceremony. While the procession moves
towards the river, the witch marches behind the raft singing a song,
of which the burden is a statement that gypsies do not like water, and
have no urgent need of serpents’ milk, coupled with the expression of
a hope that the serpent may see his way to swallow the water, that he
may run to his mother and drink milk from her breasts, and that the
sun may shine out, bringing back mirth and jollity to gypsy hearts.
Transylvanian gypsies will sometimes expose the dried carcase of a
serpent to the pouring rain, “in order that the serpent may convince
himself of the inclemency of the weather, and so grant the people’s
wish.”[1018]
[Sidenote: Doing violence to the being who controls the weather.]
This last custom is an example of an entirely different mode of
procuring rain, to which people sometimes have recourse in extreme
cases, when the drought is long and their temper short. At such times
they will drop the usual hocus-pocus of imitative magic altogether,
and being far too angry to waste their breath in prayer they seek by
threats and curses or even downright physical force to extort the
waters of heaven from the supernatural being who has, so to say, cut
them off at the main. Thus, in Muzaffarnagar, a town of the Punjaub,
when the rains are excessive, the people draw a figure of a certain
Muni or Rishi Agastya on a loin-cloth and put it out in the rain, or
they paint his figure on the outside of the house and let the rain wash
it off. This Muni or Rishi Agastya is a great personage in the native
folklore, and enjoys the reputation of being able to stop the rain. It
is supposed that he will exercise his power as soon as he is thus made
to feel in effigy the misery of wet weather.[1019] On the other hand,
when rain is wanted at Chhatarpur, a native state in Bundelcund, they
paint two figures with their legs up and their heads down on a wall
that faces east; one of the figures represents Indra, the other Megha
Raja, the lord of rain. They think that in this uncomfortable position
these powerful beings will soon be glad to send {p297} the much-needed
showers.[1020] In a Japanese village, when the guardian divinity had
long been deaf to the peasants’ prayers for rain, they at last threw
down his image and, with curses loud and long, hurled it head foremost
into a stinking rice-field. “There,” they said, “you may stay yourself
for a while, to see how _you_ will feel after a few days’ scorching
in this broiling sun that is burning the life from our cracking
fields.”[1021] In the like circumstances the Feloupes of Senegambia
cast down their fetishes and drag them about the fields, cursing them
till rain falls.[1022] In Okunomura, a Japanese village not far from
Tokio, when rain is wanted, an artificial dragon is made out of straw,
reeds, bamboos, and magnolia leaves. Preceded by a Shinto priest,
attended by men carrying paper flags, and followed by others beating a
big drum, the dragon is carried in procession from the Buddhist temple
and finally thrown into a waterfall.[1023] When the spirits withhold
rain or sunshine, the Comanches whip a slave; if the gods prove
obstinate, the victim is almost flayed alive.[1024]
[Sidenote: Chinese modes of compelling the gods to give rain.
Siamese modes of constraining the gods to give rain.]
The Chinese are adepts in the art of taking the kingdom of heaven by
storm. Thus, when rain is wanted they make a huge dragon of paper or
wood to represent the rain-god, and carry it about in procession;
but if no rain follows, the mock-dragon is execrated and torn to
pieces.[1025] At other times they threaten and beat the god if he
does not give rain; sometimes they publicly depose him from the rank
of deity. On the other hand, if the wished-for rain falls, the god is
promoted to a higher rank by an imperial decree.[1026] It is said
that in the reign of Kia-King, fifth emperor of the {p298} Manchu
dynasty, a long drought desolated several provinces of northern China.
Processions were of no avail; the rain-dragon hardened his heart and
would not let a drop fall. At last the emperor lost patience and
condemned the recalcitrant deity to perpetual exile on the banks of
the river Illi in the province of Torgot. The decree was in process
of execution; the divine criminal, with a touching resignation, was
already traversing the deserts of Tartary to work out his sentence on
the borders of Turkestan, when the judges of the High Court of Peking,
moved with compassion, flung themselves at the feet of the emperor and
implored his pardon for the poor devil. The emperor consented to revoke
his doom, and a messenger set off at full gallop to bear the tidings
to the executors of the imperial justice. The dragon was reinstated
in his office on condition of performing his duties a little better
in future.[1027] About the year 1710 the island of Tsong-ming, which
belongs to the province of Nanking, was afflicted with a drought. The
viceroy of the province, after the usual attempts to soften the heart
of the local deity by burning incense-sticks had been made in vain,
sent word to the idol that if rain did not fall by such and such a day,
he would have him turned out of the city and his temple razed to the
ground. The threat had no effect on the obdurate divinity; the day of
grace came and went, and yet no rain fell. Then the indignant viceroy
forbade the people to make any more offerings at the shrine of this
unfeeling deity, and commanded that the temple should be shut up and
seals placed on the doors. This soon produced the desired effect. Cut
off from his base of supplies, the idol had no choice but to surrender
at discretion. Rain fell in a few days, and thus the god was restored
to the affections of the faithful.[1028] In some parts of China the
mandarins procure rain or fine weather by shutting the southern or the
northern gates of the city. For the south wind brings drought and the
north wind brings showers. Hence by closing the southern and opening
the northern gates you clearly exclude drought and admit rain; whereas
contrariwise by shutting the northern and opening the {p299} southern
gates you bar out the clouds and the wet and let in sunshine and genial
warmth.[1029] In April 1888 the mandarins of Canton prayed to the god
Lung-wong to stop the incessant downpour of rain; and when he turned a
deaf ear to their petitions they put him in a lock-up for five days.
This had a salutary effect. The rain ceased and the god was restored to
liberty. Some years before, in time of drought, the same deity had been
chained and exposed to the sun for days in the courtyard of his temple
in order that he might feel for himself the urgent need of rain.[1030]
So when the Siamese need rain, they set out their idols in the blazing
sun; but if they want dry weather, they unroof the temples and let
the rain pour down on the idols. They think that the inconvenience
to which the gods are thus subjected will induce them to grant the
wishes of their worshippers.[1031] When the rice-crop is endangered
by long drought, the governor of Battambang, a province of Siam, goes
in great state to a certain pagoda and prays to Buddha for rain. Then,
accompanied by his suite and followed by an enormous crowd, he adjourns
to a plain behind the pagoda. Here a dummy figure has been made up,
dressed in bright colours, and placed in the middle of the plain. A
wild music begins to play; maddened by the din of drums and cymbals and
crackers, and goaded on by their drivers, the elephants charge down on
the dummy and trample it to pieces. After this, Buddha will soon give
rain.[1032]
[Sidenote: Compelling the saints to give rain in Sicily.]
The reader may smile at the meteorology of the Far East; but precisely
similar modes of procuring rain have been resorted to in Christian
Europe within our own lifetime. By the end of April 1893 there was
great distress in Sicily for lack of water. The drought had lasted six
months. Every day the sun rose and set in a sky of cloudless blue. The
gardens of the Conca d’Oro, which surround Palermo with a magnificent
belt of verdure, were {p300} withering. Food was becoming scarce. The
people were in great alarm. All the most approved methods of procuring
rain had been tried without effect. Processions had traversed the
streets and the fields. Men, women, and children, telling their beads,
had lain whole nights before the holy images. Consecrated candles had
burned day and night in the churches. Palm branches, blessed on Palm
Sunday, had been hung on the trees. At Solaparuta, in accordance with
a very old custom, the dust swept from the churches on Palm Sunday
had been spread on the fields. In ordinary years these holy sweepings
preserve the crops; but that year, if you will believe me, they had no
effect whatever. At Nicosia the inhabitants, bare-headed and bare-foot,
carried the crucifixes through all the wards of the town and scourged
each other with iron whips. It was all in vain. Even the great St.
Francis of Paola himself, who annually performs the miracle of rain
and is carried every spring through the market-gardens, either could
not or would not help. Masses, vespers, concerts, illuminations,
fire-works—nothing could move him. At last the peasants began to lose
patience. Most of the saints were banished. At Palermo they dumped
St. Joseph in a garden to see the state of things for himself, and
they swore to leave him there in the sun till rain fell. Other saints
were turned, like naughty children, with their faces to the wall.
Others again, stripped of their beautiful robes, were exiled far from
their parishes, threatened, grossly insulted, ducked in horse-ponds.
At Caltanisetta the golden wings of St. Michael the Archangel were
torn from his shoulders and replaced with wings of pasteboard; his
purple mantle was taken away and a clout wrapt about him instead. At
Licata the patron saint, St. Angelo, fared even worse, for he was left
without any garments at all; he was reviled, he was put in irons, he
was threatened with drowning or hanging. “Rain or the rope!” roared the
angry people at him, as they shook their fists in his face.[1033] {p301}
[Sidenote: Disturbing the rain-god in his haunts.]
Another way of constraining the rain-god is to disturb him in his
haunts. This seems to be the reason why rain is supposed to follow
the troubling of a sacred spring. The Dards believe that if a
cow-skin or anything impure is placed in certain springs, storms will
follow.[1034] In the mountains of Farghana there was a place where
rain began to fall as soon as anything dirty was thrown into a certain
famous well.[1035] Again, in Tabaristan there was said to be a cave in
the mountain of Tak which had only to be defiled by filth or milk for
the rain to begin to fall, and to continue falling till the cave was
cleansed.[1036] Gervasius mentions a spring, into which if a stone or
a stick were thrown, rain would at once issue from it and drench the
thrower.[1037] There was a fountain in Munster such that if it were
touched or even looked at by a human being, it would at once flood the
whole province with rain.[1038] In Normandy a wizard will sometimes
repair to a spring, sprinkle flour on it, and strike the water with a
hazel rod, while he chants his spell. A mist then rises from the spring
and condenses in the shape of heavy clouds, which discharge volleys
of hail on the orchards and corn-fields.[1039] When rain was long of
coming in the Canary Islands, the priestesses used to beat the sea with
rods to punish the water-spirit for his niggardliness.[1040] Among the
natural curiosities of Annam are the caves of Chua-hang {p302} or Troc.
You may sail into them in a boat underground for a distance of half a
mile, and a little way further in you come to the remains of an ancient
altar among magnificent stalactite columns. The Annamites worship
the spirit of the cave and offer sacrifices at its mouth in time of
drought. From all the villages in the neighbourhood come boats, the
boatmen singing, “Let it rain! let it rain!” in time to the measured
dip of their oars in the water. Arrived at the mouth of the cave, they
offer rice and wine to the spirit, prostrating themselves four times
before him. Then the master of the ceremonies recites a prayer, ties a
written copy of it to the neck of a dog, and flings the animal into the
stream which flows from the grotto. This is done in order to provoke
the spirit of the cave to anger by defiling his pure water; for he will
then send abundant rains to sweep far away the carcase of the dead dog
which pollutes the sacred grotto.[1041]
[Sidenote: Putting compulsion on the rain-god.
Exciting the pity of the beings who control the rain.]
Two hundred miles to the east of the land of the Huichol Indians in
Mexico there is a sacred spring, and away to the west of their country
stretches the Pacific Ocean. To ensure the fall of rain these Indians
carry water from the spring to the sea, and an equal quantity of
sea-water from the sea to the spring. The two waters thus transferred
will, they think, feel strange in their new surroundings and will
seek to return to their old homes. Hence they will pass in the shape
of clouds across the Huichol country and meeting there will descend
as rain.[1042] Sometimes an appeal is made to the pity of the gods.
When their corn is being burnt up by the sun, the Zulus look out for
a “heaven bird,” kill it, and throw it into a pool. Then the heaven
melts with tenderness for the death of the bird; “it wails for it by
raining, wailing a funeral wail.”[1043] In Zululand women sometimes
bury their children up to the neck in the ground, and then retiring to
a distance keep up a dismal howl for a long time. The sky is supposed
to melt with pity at the sight. Then the women dig the children out
and feel sure {p303} that rain will soon follow. They say that they
call to “the lord above” and ask him to send rain. If it comes they
declare that “Usondo rains.”[1044] In times of drought the Guanches of
Teneriffe led their sheep to sacred ground, and there they separated
the lambs from their dams, that their plaintive bleating might touch
the heart of the god.[1045] In Kumaon a way of stopping rain is to
pour hot oil in the left ear of a dog. The animal howls with pain, his
howls are heard by Indra, and out of pity for the beast’s sufferings
the god stops the rain.[1046] Sometimes the Toradjas of Central
Celebes attempt to procure rain as follows. They place the stalks of
certain plants in water, saying, “Go and ask for rain, and so long as
no rain falls I will not plant you again, but there shall you die.”
Also they string some fresh-water snails on a cord, and hang the cord
on a tree, and say to the snails, “Go and ask for rain, and so long as
no rain comes, I will not take you back to the water.” Then the snails
go and weep and the gods take pity and send rain.[1047] However, the
foregoing ceremonies are religious rather than magical, since they
involve an appeal to the compassion of higher powers. A peculiar mode
of making rain was adopted by some of the heathen Arabs. They tied
two sorts of bushes to the tails and hind legs of their cattle, and,
setting fire to the bushes, drove the cattle to the top of a mountain,
praying for rain.[1048] This may be, as Wellhausen suggests, an
imitation of lightning on the horizon;[1049] but it may also be a way
of threatening the sky, as some West African rain-makers put a pot of
inflammable materials on the fire and blow up the flames, threatening
that if heaven does not soon give rain they will send up a blaze which
will set the sky on fire.[1050] In time of drought the priests of the
Muyscas in New Granada ascended a mountain and there burned billets
{p304} of wood smeared with resin. The ashes they scattered in the air,
thinking thus to condense the clouds and bring rain.[1051]
[Sidenote: Making rain by means of stones.
Bezoar stones as instruments of rain.]
Stones are often supposed to possess the property of bringing on rain,
provided they be dipped in water or sprinkled with it, or treated in
some other appropriate manner. In a Samoan village a certain stone
was carefully housed as the representative of the rain-making god,
and in time of drought his priests carried the stone in procession
and dipped it in a stream.[1052] Among the Ta-ta-thi tribe of New
South Wales, the rain-maker breaks off a piece of quartz-crystal and
spits it towards the sky; the rest of the crystal he wraps in emu
feathers, soaks both crystal and feathers in water, and carefully
hides them.[1053] In the Keramin tribe of New South Wales the wizard
retires to the bed of a creek, drops water on a round flat stone, then
covers up and conceals it.[1054] Among some tribes of north-western
Australia the rain-maker repairs to a piece of ground which is set
apart for the purpose of rain-making. There he builds a heap of
stones or sand, places on the top of it his magic stone, and walks
or dances round the pile chanting his incantations for hours, till
sheer exhaustion obliges him to desist, when his place is taken by his
assistant. Water is sprinkled on the stone and huge fires are kindled.
No layman may approach the sacred spot while the mystic ceremony is
being performed.[1055] When the Sulka of New Britain wish to procure
rain they blacken stones with the ashes of certain fruits and set
them out, along with certain other plants and buds, in the sun. Then
a handful of twigs is dipped in water and weighted with stones, while
a spell is chanted. After that rain should follow.[1056] In Manipur,
on a lofty hill to the east of the capital, there is a stone which
the popular imagination likens to an umbrella. {p305} When rain is
wanted, the rajah fetches water from a spring below and sprinkles it
on the stone.[1057] At Sagami in Japan there is a stone which draws
down rain whenever water is poured on it.[1058] When the Wakondyo, a
tribe of Central Africa, desire rain, they send to the Wawamba, who
dwell at the foot of snowy mountains, and are the happy possessors
of a “rain-stone.” In consideration of a proper payment, the Wawamba
wash the precious stone, anoint it with oil, and put it in a pot full
of water. After that the rain cannot fail to come.[1059] In Behar
people think to put an end to drought by keeping a holy stone named
Náráyan-chakra in a vessel of water.[1060] The Turks of Armenia make
rain by throwing pebbles into the water. At Egin the pebbles are hung
in two bags in the Euphrates; there should be seventy thousand and one
of them.[1061] At Myndus in Asia Minor the number of the stones used
for this purpose is seventy-seven thousand, and each of them should
be licked before it is cast into the sea.[1062] In some parts of
Mongolia, when the people desire rain, they fasten a bezoar stone to
a willow twig, and place it in pure water, uttering incantations or
prayers at the same time.[1063] At Yakutsk all classes used firmly to
believe they could make rain by means of one of these bezoar stones,
provided it had really been found in the stomach of an animal, and the
fiercer the beast the more powerful the charm. The rain-maker had to
dip the stone in spring water just as the sun rose, and then holding it
between the thumb and fore-finger of the right hand to present it to
the luminary, after which he made three turns contrary to the direction
of the sun. The virtue of a bezoar stone lasted only nine days.[1064]
Conversely, when Dr. Radloff’s Mongolian guide wished to stop the rain,
he tied a rock-crystal by a short string to a stick, held the stone
over the fire, and then swung the stick {p306} about in all directions,
while he chanted an incantation.[1065] Water is scarce with the fierce
Apaches, who roam the arid wastes of Arizona and New Mexico; for
springs are few and far between in these torrid wildernesses, where the
intense heat would be unendurable were it not for the great dryness of
the air. The stony beds of the streams are waterless in the plains; but
if you ascend for some miles the profound cañons that worm their way
into the heart of the wild and rugged mountains, you come in time to a
current trickling over the sand, and a mile or two more will bring you
to a stream of a tolerable size flowing over boulders and screened from
the fierce sun by walls of rock that tower on either hand a thousand
feet into the air, their parched sides matted with the fantastic
forms of the prickly cactus, and their summits crested far overhead
with pine woods, like a black fringe against the burning blue of the
sky. In such a land we need not wonder that the thirsty Indians seek
to procure rain by magic. They take water from a certain spring and
throw it on a particular point high up on a rock; the welcome clouds
then soon gather, and rain begins to fall.[1066] In the district of
Varanda, in Armenia, there is a rock with a hole in it near a sacred
place. Women light candles on the rock and pour water into the hole
in order to bring on rain. And in the same district there is another
rock on which water is poured and milk boiled as an offering in time of
drought.[1067]
[Sidenote: Making rain by means of stones in Europe.
Dipping images of saints in water as a rain-charm.]
But customs of this sort are not confined to the wilds of Africa and
Asia or the torrid deserts of Australia and the New World. They have
been practised in the cool air and under the grey skies of Europe.
There is a fountain called Barenton, of romantic fame, in those “wild
woods of Broceliande,” where, if legend be true, the wizard Merlin
still sleeps his magic slumber in the hawthorn shade. Thither the
Breton peasants used to resort when they {p307} needed rain. They
caught some of the water in a tankard and threw it on a slab near the
spring.[1068] On Snowdon there is a lonely tarn called Dulyn, or the
Black Lake, lying “in a dismal dingle surrounded by high and dangerous
rocks.” A row of stepping-stones runs out into the lake, and if any one
steps on the stones and throws water so as to wet the farthest stone,
which is called the Red Altar, “it is but a chance that you do not
get rain before night, even when it is hot weather.”[1069] In these
cases it appears probable that, as in Samoa, the stone is regarded as
more or less divine. This appears from the custom sometimes observed
of dipping the cross in the Fountain of Barenton to procure rain,
for this is plainly a Christian substitute for the old pagan way of
throwing water on the stone.[1070] At various places in France it is,
or used till lately to be, the practice to dip the image of a saint
in water as a means of procuring rain. Thus, beside the old priory of
Commagny, a mile or two to the south-west of Moulins-Engilbert, there
is a spring of St. Gervais, whither the inhabitants go in procession
to obtain rain or fine weather according to the needs of the crops.
In times of great drought they throw into the basin of the fountain
an ancient stone image of the saint that stands in a sort of niche
from which the fountain flows.[1071] At Collobrières and Carpentras,
both in Provence, a similar practice was observed with the images of
St. Pons and St. Gens respectively.[1072] In several villages of
Navarre prayers for rain used to be offered to St. Peter, and by way
of enforcing them the villagers carried the image of the saint in
procession to the river, where they thrice invited him to reconsider
his resolution and to grant their prayers; then, if he was still
obstinate, they plunged him in the water, despite the remonstrances
of the clergy, who {p308} pleaded with as much truth as piety that a
simple caution or admonition administered to the image would produce
an equally good effect. After this the rain was sure to fall within
twenty-four hours.[1073] Catholic countries do not enjoy a monopoly
of making rain by ducking holy images in water. In Mingrelia, when the
crops are suffering from want of rain, they take a particularly holy
image and dip it in water every day till a shower falls;[1074] and in
the Far East the Shans drench the images of Buddha with water when the
rice is perishing of drought.[1075] In all such cases the practice is
probably at bottom a sympathetic charm, however it may be disguised
under the appearance of a punishment or a threat.
[Sidenote: Various rain-charms by means of stones.]
The application of water to a miraculous stone is not the only way
of securing its good offices in the making of rain. In the island of
Uist, one of the Outer Hebrides, there is a stone cross opposite to
St. Mary’s church, which the natives used to call the Water-cross.
When they needed rain, they set the cross up; and when enough rain
had fallen, they laid it flat on the ground.[1076] In Aurora, one of
the New Hebrides islands, the rain-maker puts a tuft of leaves of a
certain plant in the hollow of a stone; over it he lays some branches
of a pepper-tree pounded and crushed, and to these he adds a stone
which is believed to possess the property of drawing down showers
from the sky. All this he accompanies with incantations, and finally
covers the whole mass up. In time it ferments, and steam, charged with
magical virtue, goes up and makes clouds and rain. The wizard must
be careful, however, not to pound the pepper too hard, as otherwise
the wind might blow too strong.[1077] Sometimes the stone derives
its magical virtue from its likeness to a real or imaginary animal.
Thus, at Kota Gadang in Sumatra, there is a stone which, with the
help of a powerful imagination, may perhaps be conceived to bear a
faint and distant resemblance to a cat. {p309} Naturally, therefore,
it possesses the property of eliciting showers from the sky, since in
Sumatra, as we have seen, a real black cat plays a part in ceremonies
for the production of rain. Hence the stone is sometimes smeared with
the blood of fowls, rubbed, and incensed, while a charm is uttered
over it.[1078] At Eneti, in Washington State, there is an irregular
basaltic rock on which a face, said to be that of the thunder-bird,
has been hammered. The Indians of the neighbourhood long believed
that to shake the rock would cause rain by exciting the wrath of the
thunder-bird.[1079]
[Sidenote: Rain-charms in classical antiquity.]
Like other peoples, the Greeks and Romans sought to obtain rain by
magic, when prayers and processions[1080] had proved ineffectual. For
example, in Arcadia, when the corn and trees were parched with drought,
the priest of Zeus dipped an oak branch into a certain spring on Mount
Lycaeus. Thus troubled, the water sent up a misty cloud, from which
rain soon fell upon the land.[1081] A similar mode of making rain is
still practised, as we have seen, in Halmahera near New Guinea.[1082]
The people of Crannon in Thessaly had a bronze chariot which they kept
in a temple. When they desired a shower they shook the chariot and the
shower fell.[1083] Probably the rattling of the chariot was meant to
imitate thunder; we have already seen that mock thunder and lightning
form part of a rain-charm in Russia and {p310} Japan.[1084] The
legendary Salmoneus, King of Elis, made mock thunder by dragging bronze
kettles behind his chariot, or by driving over a bronze bridge, while
he hurled blazing torches in imitation of lightning. It was his impious
wish to mimic the thundering car of Zeus as it rolled across the vault
of heaven. Indeed he declared that he was actually Zeus, and caused
sacrifices to be offered to himself as such.[1085] Near a temple of
Mars, outside the walls of Rome, there was kept a certain stone known
as the _lapis manalis_. In time of drought the stone was dragged into
Rome, and this was supposed to bring down rain immediately.[1086]
There were Etruscan wizards who made rain or discovered springs of
water, it is not certain which. They were thought to bring the rain
or the water out of their bellies.[1087] The legendary Telchines
in Rhodes are described as magicians who could change their shape
and bring clouds, rain, and snow.[1088] The Athenians sacrificed
boiled, not roast meat to the Seasons, begging them to avert drought
and dry heat and to send due warmth and timely rain.[1089] This is
an interesting example of the admixture of religion with sorcery,
of sacrifice with magic. The Athenians dimly conceived that in some
way the water in the pot would be transmitted through the boiled
meat to the deities, and then sent down again by them in the form of
rain.[1090] In a similar spirit {p311} the prudent Greeks made it
a rule always to pour honey, but never wine, on the altars of the
sun-god, pointing out, with great show of reason, how expedient it was
that a god on whom so much depended should keep strictly sober.[1091]
§3. _The Magical Control of the Sun_
[Sidenote: Making the sun to shine.
Magical control of the sun.
Attempts to help the sun at an eclipse.
Various charms to cause the sun to shine.]
The rule of total abstinence which Greek prudence and piety imposed
on the sun-god introduces us to a second class of natural phenomena
which primitive man commonly supposes to be in some degree under his
control and dependent on his exertions. As the magician thinks he can
make rain, so he fancies he can cause the sun to shine, and can hasten
or stay its going down. At an eclipse the Ojebways used to imagine
that the sun was being extinguished. So they shot fire-tipped arrows
in the air, hoping thus to rekindle his expiring light.[1092] The
Sencis of eastern Peru also shot burning arrows at the sun during
an eclipse, but apparently they did this not so much to relight his
lamp as to drive away a savage beast with which they supposed him to
be struggling.[1093] Conversely during an eclipse of the moon some
Indian tribes of the Orinoco used to bury lighted brands in the ground;
because, said they, if the moon were to be extinguished, all fire on
earth would be extinguished {p312} with her, except such as was hidden
from her sight.[1094] During an eclipse of the sun the Kamtchatkans
were wont to bring out fire from their huts and pray the great luminary
to shine as before.[1095] But the prayer addressed to the sun shews
that this ceremony was religious rather than magical. Purely magical,
on the other hand, was the ceremony observed on similar occasions by
the Chilcotin Indians of north-western America. Men and women tucked
up their robes, as they do in travelling, and then leaning on staves,
as if they were heavy laden, they continued to walk in a circle till
the eclipse was over.[1096] Apparently they thought thus to support
the failing steps of the sun as he trod his weary round in the sky.
Similarly in ancient Egypt the king, as the representative of the
sun, walked solemnly round the walls of a temple in order to ensure
that the sun should perform his daily journey round the sky without
the interruption of an eclipse or other mishap.[1097] And after the
autumnal equinox the ancient Egyptians held a festival called “the
nativity of the sun’s walking-stick,” because, as the luminary declined
daily in the sky, and his light and heat diminished, he was supposed
to need a staff on which to lean.[1098] In New Caledonia when a
wizard desires to make sunshine, he takes some plants and corals to
the burial-ground, and fashions them into a bundle, adding two locks
of hair cut from a living child of his family, also two teeth or an
entire jawbone from the skeleton of an ancestor. He then climbs a
mountain whose top catches the first rays of the morning sun. Here he
deposits three sorts of plants on a flat stone, places a branch of
dry coral beside them, and hangs the bundle of charms over the stone.
Next morning he returns to the spot and sets fire to the bundle at the
moment when {p313} the sun rises from the sea. As the smoke curls up,
he rubs the stone with the dry coral, invokes his ancestors and says:
“Sun! I do this that you may be burning hot, and eat up all the clouds
in the sky.” The same ceremony is repeated at sunset.[1099] The New
Caledonians also make a drought by means of a disc-shaped stone with
a hole in it. At the moment when the sun rises, the wizard holds the
stone in his hand and passes a burning brand repeatedly into the hole,
while he says: “I kindle the sun, in order that he may eat up the
clouds and dry up our land, so that it may produce nothing.”[1100]
When the sun rises behind clouds—a rare event in the bright sky of
southern Africa—the Sun clan of the Bechuanas say that he is grieving
their heart. All work stands still, and all the food of the previous
day is given to matrons or old women. They may eat it and may share
it with the children they are nursing, but no one else may taste it.
The people go down to the river and wash themselves all over. Each
man throws into the river a stone taken from his domestic hearth,
and replaces it with one picked up in the bed of the river. On their
return to the village the chief kindles a fire in his hut, and all his
subjects come and get a light from it. A general dance follows.[1101]
In these cases it seems that the lighting of the flame on earth is
supposed to rekindle the solar fire. Such a belief comes naturally to
people who, like the Sun clan of the Bechuanas, deem themselves the
veritable kinsmen of the sun. When the sun is obscured by clouds, the
Lengua Indians of the Gran Chaco hold burning sticks towards him to
encourage the luminary,[1102] or rather perhaps to {p314} rekindle his
seemingly expiring light. The Banks Islanders make sunshine by means
of a mock sun. They take a very round stone, called a _vat loa_ or
sunstone, wind red braid about it, and stick it with owls’ feathers
to represent rays, singing the proper spell in a low voice. Then they
hang it on some high tree, such as a banyan or a casuarina, in a sacred
place. Or the stone is laid on the ground with white rods radiating
from it to imitate sunbeams.[1103] Sometimes the mode of making
sunshine is the converse of that of making rain. Thus we have seen that
a white or red victim is sacrificed for sunshine, while a black one
is sacrificed for rain.[1104] Some of the New Caledonians drench a
skeleton to make rain, but burn it to make sunshine.[1105]
[Sidenote: Sun-charms among the American Indians.
Human sacrifices offered to the sun by the Mexicans.
Greek sacrifices of horses to the sun.]
When the mists lay thick on the Sierras of Peru, the Indian women
used to rattle the silver and copper ornaments which they wore on
their breasts, and they blew against the fog, hoping thus to disperse
it and make the sun shine through. Another way of producing the same
effect was to burn salt or scatter ashes in the air.[1106] The
Guarayo Indians also threw ashes in the air for the sake of clearing
up the clouded evening sky.[1107] In Car Nicobar, when it has rained
for several days without stopping, the natives roll long bamboos in
leaves of various kinds and set them up in the middle of the village.
They call these bamboos “rods inviting the sun to shine.”[1108] The
offering made by the Brahman in the morning is supposed to produce
the sun, and we are told that “assuredly it would not rise, were he
not to make that offering.”[1109] The ancient Mexicans conceived
the sun as the source of all vital force; hence they named him
Ipalnemohuani, “He by whom men live.” But if he bestowed life on the
world, he needed also to receive {p315} life from it. And as the heart
is the seat and symbol of life, bleeding hearts of men and animals
were presented to the sun to maintain him in vigour and enable him
to run his course across the sky. Thus the Mexican sacrifices to the
sun were magical rather than religious, being designed, not so much
to please and propitiate him, as physically to renew his energies of
heat, light, and motion. The constant demand for human victims to feed
the solar fire was met by waging war every year on the neighbouring
tribes and bringing back troops of captives to be sacrificed on the
altar. Thus the ceaseless wars of the Mexicans and their cruel system
of human sacrifices, the most monstrous on record, sprang in great
measure from a mistaken theory of the solar system. No more striking
illustration could be given of the disastrous consequences that may
flow in practice from a purely speculative error.[1110] The ancient
Greeks believed that the sun drove in a chariot across the sky; hence
the Rhodians, who worshipped the sun as their chief deity, annually
dedicated a chariot and four horses to him, and flung them into the
sea for his use. Doubtless they thought that after a year’s work his
old horses and chariot would be worn out.[1111] From a like motive,
probably, the idolatrous kings of Judah dedicated chariots and horses
to the sun,[1112] and the Spartans,[1113] Persians,[1114] and
Massagetae[1115] sacrificed horses to him. The Spartans performed the
sacrifice on the {p316} top of Mount Taygetus, the beautiful range
behind which they saw the great luminary set every night. It was as
natural for the inhabitants of the valley of Sparta to do this as it
was for the islanders of Rhodes to throw the chariot and horses into
the sea, into which the sun seemed to them to sink at evening. For
thus, whether on the mountain or in the sea, the fresh horses stood
ready for the weary god where they would be most welcome, at the end of
his day’s journey.
[Sidenote: Staying the sun by means of a net or string.
Staying the sun by putting a stone or a clod in the fork of a tree.]
As some people think they can light up the sun or speed him on his way,
so others fancy they can retard or stop him. In a pass of the Peruvian
Andes stand two ruined towers on opposite hills. Iron hooks are clamped
into their walls for the purpose of stretching a net from one tower to
the other. The net is intended to catch the sun.[1116] On a small hill
in Fiji grew a patch of reeds, and travellers who feared to be belated
used to tie the tops of a handful of reeds together to prevent the sun
from going down.[1117] As to this my late friend the Rev. Lorimer
Fison wrote to me: “I have often seen the reeds tied together to keep
the sun from going down. The place is on a hill in Lakomba, one of
the eastern islands of the Fijian group. It is on the side—not on the
top—of the hill. The reeds grow on the right side of the path. I asked
an old man the meaning of the practice, and he said, ‘We used to think
the sun would see us, and know we wanted him not to go down till we got
past on our way home again.’”[1118] But perhaps the original intention
was to entangle the sun in the reeds, just as the Peruvians try to
catch him in the net. Stories of men who have caught the sun in a
noose are widely spread.[1119] When the sun is going southward in the
autumn, and sinking lower and lower in the Arctic sky, the Esquimaux
of Iglulik play the game of cat’s cradle in order to catch him in the
meshes of the string and so prevent his {p317} disappearance. On the
contrary, when the sun is moving northward in the spring, they play
the game of cup-and-ball to hasten his return.[1120] Means like those
which the Esquimaux take to stop the departing sun are adopted by the
Ewe negroes of the Slave Coast to catch a runaway slave. They take
two sticks, unite them by a string, and then wind the string round
one of them, while at the same time they pronounce the name of the
fugitive. When the string is quite wound about the stick, the runaway
will be bound fast and unable to stir.[1121] In New Guinea, when a
Motu man is hunting or travelling late in the afternoon and fears to
be overtaken by darkness, he will sometimes take a piece of twine,
loop it, and look through the loop at the sun. Then he pulls the loop
into a knot and says, “Wait until we get home, and we will give you
the fat of a pig.” After that he passes the string to the man behind
him, and then it is thrown away. In a similar case a Motumotu man of
New Guinea says, “Sun, do not be in a hurry; just wait until I get
to the end.” And the sun waits. The Motumotu do not like to eat in
the dark; so if the food is not yet ready, and the sun is sinking,
they say, “Sun, stop; my food is not ready, and I want to eat by
you.”[1122] Here the looking at the sinking sun through a loop and
then drawing the loop into a knot appears to be a purely magical
ceremony designed to catch the sun in the mesh; but the request that
the luminary would kindly stand still till home is reached or the
dinner cooked, coupled with the offer of a slice of fat bacon as an
inducement to him to comply with the request, is thoroughly religious.
Jerome of Prague, travelling among the heathen Lithuanians early in the
fifteenth century, found a tribe who worshipped the sun and venerated
a large iron hammer. The priests told him that once the sun had been
invisible for several months, because a powerful king had shut it up
in a strong tower; but the signs of the zodiac {p318} had broken open
the tower with this very hammer and released the sun. Therefore they
adored the hammer.[1123] When an Australian blackfellow wishes to
stay the sun from going down till he gets home, he puts a sod in the
fork of a tree, exactly facing the setting sun.[1124] For the same
purpose an Indian of Yucatan, journeying westward, places a stone in
a tree or pulls out some of his eyelashes and blows them towards the
sun.[1125] When the Golos, a tribe of the Bahr-el-Ghazal, are on the
march, they will sometimes take a stone or a small ant-heap, about the
size of a man’s head, and place it in the fork of a tree in order to
retard the sunset.[1126] South African natives, in travelling, will
put a stone in a fork of a tree or place some grass on the path with
a stone over it, believing that this will cause their friends to keep
the meal waiting till their arrival.[1127] In this, as in previous
examples, the purpose apparently is to retard the sun. But why should
the act of putting a stone or a sod in a tree be supposed to effect
this? A partial explanation is suggested by another Australian custom.
In their journeys the natives are accustomed to place stones in trees
at different heights from the ground in order to indicate the height
of the sun in the sky at the moment when they passed the particular
tree. Those who follow are thus made aware of the time of day when
their friends in advance passed the spot.[1128] Possibly the natives,
thus accustomed to mark the sun’s progress, may have slipped into the
confusion of imagining that to mark the sun’s progress was to arrest
it at the point marked. On the other hand, to make it go {p319} down
faster, the Australians throw sand into the air and blow with their
mouths towards the sun,[1129] perhaps to waft the lingering orb
westward and bury it under the sands into which it appears to sink at
night.
[Sidenote: Accelerating the moon.]
As some people imagine they can hasten the sun, so others fancy they
can jog the tardy moon. The natives of German New Guinea reckon months
by the moon, and some of them have been known to throw stones and
spears at the moon, in order to accelerate its progress and so to
hasten the return of their friends, who were away from home for twelve
months working on a tobacco plantation.[1130] The Malays think that a
bright glow at sunset may throw a weak person into a fever. Hence they
attempt to extinguish the glow by spitting out water and throwing ashes
at it.[1131] The Shuswap Indians of British Columbia believe that they
can bring on cold weather by burning the wood of a tree that has been
struck by lightning. The belief may be based on the observation that
in their country cold follows a thunder-storm. Hence in spring, when
these Indians are travelling over the snow on high ground, they burn
splinters of such wood in the fire in order that the crust of the snow
may not melt.[1132]
§ 4. _The Magical Control of the Wind_
[Sidenote: Making the wind to blow or be still.]
Once more, the savage thinks he can make the wind to blow or to be
still. When the day is hot and a Yakut has a long way to go, he takes
a stone which he has chanced to find in an animal or fish, winds a
horse-hair several times round it, and ties it to a stick. He then
waves the stick about, uttering a spell. Soon a cool breeze begins to
blow.[1133] In order to procure a cool wind for nine days the stone
should first be dipped in the blood of a bird or beast and {p320}
then presented to the sun, while the sorcerer makes three turns
contrary to the course of the luminary.[1134] The Wind clan of the
Omahas flap their blankets to start a breeze which will drive away
the mosquitoes.[1135] When a Haida Indian wishes to obtain a fair
wind, he fasts, shoots a raven, singes it in the fire, and then going
to the edge of the sea sweeps it over the surface of the water four
times in the direction in which he wishes the wind to blow. He then
throws the raven behind him, but afterwards picks it up and sets it
in a sitting posture at the foot of a spruce-tree, facing towards
the required wind. Propping its beak open with a stick, he requests
a fair wind for a certain number of days; then going away he lies
covered up in his mantle till another Indian asks him for how many
days he has desired the wind, which question he answers.[1136] When
a sorcerer in New Britain wishes to make a wind blow in a certain
direction, he throws burnt lime in the air, chanting a song all the
time. Then he waves sprigs of ginger and other plants about, throws
them up and catches them. Next he makes a small fire with these sprigs
on the spot where the lime has fallen thickest, and walks round the
fire chanting. Lastly, he takes the ashes and throws them on the
water.[1137] If a Hottentot desires the wind to drop, he takes one
of his fattest skins and hangs it on the end of a pole, in the belief
that by blowing the skin down the wind will lose all its force and must
itself fall.[1138] Fuegian wizards throw shells against the wind to
make it drop.[1139] On the other hand, when a Persian peasant desires
a strong wind to winnow his corn, he rubs a kind of bastard saffron
and throws it up into the air; after that the breeze soon begins to
blow.[1140] Some of the Indians of Canada believed that the winds
were caused by a fish like a lizard. When one of {p321} these fish
had been caught, the Indians advised the Jesuit missionaries to put
it back into the river as fast as possible in order to calm the wind,
which was contrary.[1141] If a Cherokee wizard desires to turn aside
an approaching storm, he faces it and recites a spell with outstretched
hand. Then he gently blows towards the quarter to which he wishes it to
go, waving his hand in the same direction as if he were pushing away
the storm.[1142] The Ottawa Indians fancied they could calm a tempest
by relating the dreams they had dreamed during their fast, or by
throwing tobacco on the troubled water.[1143] When the Kei Islanders
wish to obtain a favourable wind for their friends at sea, they dance
in a ring, both men and women, swaying their bodies to and fro, while
the men hold handkerchiefs in their hands.[1144] In Melanesia there
are everywhere weather-doctors who can control the powers of the
air and are willing to supply wind or calm in return for a proper
remuneration. For instance, in Santa Cruz the wizard makes wind by
waving the branch of a tree and chanting the appropriate charm.[1145]
In another Melanesian island a missionary observed a large shell filled
with earth, in which an oblong stone, covered with red ochre, was set
up, while the whole was surrounded by a fence of sticks strengthened by
a creeper which was twined in and out the uprights. On asking a native
what these things meant, he learned that the wind was here fenced or
bound round, lest it should blow hard; the imprisoned wind would not be
able to blow again until the fence that kept it in should have rotted
away.[1146] In South Africa, when the Caffres wish to stop a high
wind, they call in a “wind-doctor,” who takes a pot with a spout and
points the spout towards the quarter from which the wind is blowing.
He then places medicines {p322} and some of the dust blown by the wind
in the vessel, and seals up every opening of the pot with damp clay.
Thereupon the doctor declares, “The head of the wind is now in my pot,
and the wind will cease to blow.”[1147] The natives of the island of
Bibili, off German New Guinea, are reputed to make wind by blowing with
their mouths. In stormy weather the Bogadjim people say, “The Bibili
folk are at it again, blowing away.”[1148] Another way of making wind
which is practised in New Guinea is to strike a “wind-stone” lightly
with a stick; to strike it hard would bring on a hurricane.[1149] So
in Scotland witches used to raise the wind by dipping a rag in water
and beating it thrice on a stone, saying:
“_I knok this rag upone this stane_
_To raise the wind in the divellis name,_
_It sall not lye till I please againe._”[1150]
[Sidenote: Raising the wind.]
At Victoria, the capital of Vancouver’s Island, there are a number of
large stones not far from what is called the Battery. Each of them
represents a certain wind. When an Indian wants any particular wind,
he goes and moves the corresponding stone a little; were he to move
it too much, the wind would blow very hard.[1151] The natives of
Murray Island in Torres Straits used to make a great wind blow from
the south-east by pointing coco-nut leaves and other plants at two
granitic boulders on the shore. So long as the leaves remained there
the wind sat in that quarter. But, significantly enough, the ceremony
was only performed during the prevalence of the south-east monsoon.
The natives knew better than to try to raise a south-east wind while
the north-west monsoon was blowing.[1152] On the altar of Fladda’s
chapel, in the island of Fladdahuan (one of the Hebrides), lay a round
bluish stone which was always moist. Windbound fishermen walked sunwise
round the chapel and {p323} then poured water on the stone, whereupon
a favourable breeze was sure to spring up.[1153] In Gigha, an island
off the western coast of Argyleshire, there is a well named Tobar-rath
Bhuathaig or “The lucky well of Beathag,” which used to be famous for
its power of raising the wind. It lies at the foot of a hill facing
north-east near an isthmus called Tarbat. Six feet above where the
water gushes out there is a heap of stones which forms a cover to the
sacred spring. When a person wished for a fair wind, either to leave
the island or to bring home his absent friends, this part was opened
with great solemnity, the stones were carefully removed, and the well
cleaned with a wooden dish or a clam shell. This being done, the water
was thrown several times in the direction from which the wished-for
wind was to blow, and this action was accompanied by a certain form
of words which the person repeated every time he threw the water.
When the ceremony was over, the well was again carefully shut up to
prevent fatal consequences, it being firmly believed that, were the
place left open, a storm would arise which would overwhelm the whole
island.[1154] The Esthonians have various odd ways of raising a wind.
They scratch their finger, or hang up a serpent, or strike an axe into
a house-beam in the direction from which they wish the wind to blow,
while at the same time they whistle. The notion is that the gentle wind
will not let an innocent being or even a beam suffer without coming and
breathing softly to assuage the pain.[1155]
[Sidenote: Winds raised by wizards and witches.]
In Mabuiag, an island between New Guinea and Australia, there were men
whose business was to make wind for such as wanted it. When engaged in
his professional duties the wizard painted himself black behind and
red on his face and chest. The red in front typified the red cloud
of morning, the black represented the dark blue sky of night. Thus
arrayed he took some bushes, and, when the tide was low, fastened them
at the edge of the reef so that the flowing {p324} tide made them sway
backwards and forwards. But if only a gentle breeze was needed, he
fastened them nearer to the shore. To stop the wind he again painted
himself red and black, the latter in imitation of the clear blue sky,
and then removing the bushes from the reef he dried and burnt them. The
smoke as it curled up was believed to stop the wind: “Smoke he go up
and him clear up on top.”[1156] In some islands of Torres Straits the
wizard made wind by whirling a bull-roarer;[1157] the booming sound of
the instrument probably seemed to him like the roar or the whistling
of the wind. Amongst the Kurnai tribe of Gippsland in Victoria there
used to be a noted raiser of storms who went by the name of Bunjil
Kraura or “Great West Wind.” This wind makes the tall slender trees
of the Gippsland forests to rock and sway so that the natives could
not climb them in search of opossums. Hence the people were forced
to propitiate Bunjil Kraura by liberal offerings of weapons and rugs
whenever the tree-tops bent before a gale. Having received their
gifts, Bunjil Kraura would bind his head with swathes of stringy bark,
and lull the storm to rest with a song which consisted of the words
“Wear—string—Westwind,” repeated again and again.[1158] Apparently the
wizard identified himself with the wind, and fancied that he could bind
it by tying string round his own head. The Kwakiutl Indians of British
Columbia, as we have seen, believe that twins can summon any wind by
merely moving their hands.[1159] In Greenland a woman in child-bed
and for some time after delivery is supposed to possess the power
of laying a storm. She has only to go out of doors, fill her mouth
with air, and coming back into the house blow it out again.[1160] In
antiquity there was a family at Corinth which enjoyed the reputation
of being able to still the raging wind; but we do not know in what
manner its members exercised a useful function, {p325} which probably
earned for them a more solid recompense than mere repute among the
seafaring population of the isthmus.[1161] Even in Christian times,
under the reign of Constantine, a certain Sopater suffered death at
Constantinople on a charge of binding the winds by magic, because it
happened that the corn-ships of Egypt and Syria were detained afar off
by calms or head-winds, to the rage and disappointment of the hungry
Byzantine rabble.[1162] An ancient charm to keep storms from damaging
the crops was to bury a toad in a new earthen vessel in the middle of
the field.[1163] Finnish wizards used to sell wind to storm-stayed
mariners. The wind was enclosed in three knots; if they undid the first
knot, a moderate wind sprang up; if the second, it blew half a gale; if
the third, a hurricane.[1164] Indeed the Esthonians, whose country is
divided from Finland only by an arm of the sea, still believe in the
magical powers of their northern neighbours. The bitter winds that blow
in spring from the north and north-east, bringing ague and rheumatic
inflammations in their train, are set down by the simple Esthonian
peasantry to the machinations of the Finnish wizards and witches. In
particular they regard with special dread three days in spring to which
they give the name of Days of the Cross; one of them falls on the Eve
of Ascension Day. The people in the neighbourhood of Fellin fear to go
out on these days lest the cruel winds from Lappland should smite them
dead. A popular Esthonian song runs:
“_Wind of the Cross! rushing and mighty!_
_Heavy the blow of thy wings sweeping past!_
_Wild wailing wind of misfortune and sorrow,_
_Wizards of Finland ride by on the blast._”[1165]
It is said, too, that sailors, beating up against the wind in the
Gulf of Finland, sometimes see a strange sail heave in sight astern
and overhaul them hand over hand. On she {p326} comes with a cloud of
canvas—all her studding-sails out—right in the teeth of the wind,
forging her way through the foaming billows, dashing back the spray
in sheets from her cutwater, every sail swollen to bursting, every
rope strained to cracking. Then the sailors know that she hails from
Finland.[1166]
[Sidenote: Enclosing the winds in knots, bags, and pots.]
The art of tying up the wind in three knots, so that the more knots are
loosed the stronger will blow the wind, has been attributed to wizards
in Lappland and to witches in Shetland, Lewis, and the Isle of Man.
Shetland seamen still buy winds in the shape of knotted handkerchiefs
or threads from old women who claim to rule the storms. There are said
to be ancient crones in Lerwick now who live by selling wind.[1167]
In the early part of the nineteenth century Sir Walter Scott visited
one of these witches at Stromness in the Orkneys. He says: “We clomb,
by steep and dirty lanes, an eminence rising above the town, and
commanding a fine view. An old hag lives in a wretched cabin on this
height, and subsists by selling winds. Each captain of a merchantman,
between jest and earnest, gives the old woman sixpence, and she boils
her kettle to procure a favourable gale. She was a miserable figure;
upwards of ninety, she told us, and dried up like a mummy. A sort of
clay-coloured cloak, folded over her head, corresponded in colour
to her corpse-like complexion. Fine light-blue eyes, and nose and
chin that almost met, and a ghastly expression of cunning, gave her
quite the effect of Hecate.”[1168] A Norwegian witch has boasted of
sinking a ship by opening a bag in which she had shut up a wind.[1169]
Ulysses received the winds in a leathern bag from Aeolus, King of the
Winds.[1170] The {p327} Motumotu in New Guinea think that storms are
sent by an Oiabu sorcerer; for each wind he has a bamboo which he opens
at pleasure.[1171] On the top of Mount Agu in Togo, a district of
German West Africa, resides a fetish called Bagba, who is supposed to
control the wind and the rain. His priest is said to keep the winds
shut up in great pots.[1172]
[Sidenote: Frightening, driving away, and killing the spirit of the
wind.]
Often the stormy wind is regarded as an evil being who may be
intimidated, driven away, or killed. When the darkening of the sky
indicates the approach of a tornado, a South African magician will
repair to a height whither he collects as many people as can be hastily
summoned to his assistance. Directed by him, they shout and bellow in
imitation of the gust as it swirls roaring about the huts and among
the trees of the forest. Then at a signal they mimic the crash of the
thunder, after which there is a dead silence for a few seconds; then
follows a screech more piercing and prolonged than any that preceded,
dying away in a tremulous wail. The magician fills his mouth with a
foul liquid which he squirts in defiant jets against the approaching
storm as a kind of menace or challenge to the spirit of the wind; and
the shouting and wailing of his assistants are meant to frighten the
spirit away. The performance lasts until the tornado either bursts or
passes away in another direction. If it bursts, the reason is that the
magician who sent the storm was more powerful than he who endeavoured
to avert it.[1173] When storms and bad weather have lasted long and
food is scarce with the Central Esquimaux, they endeavour to conjure
the tempest by making a long whip of seaweed, armed with which they
go down to the beach and strike out in the direction of the wind,
crying, “_Taba_ (it is enough)!”[1174] Once when north-westerly winds
had kept the ice long on the coast and food was becoming scarce, the
Esquimaux {p328} performed a ceremony to make a calm. A fire was
kindled on the shore, and the men gathered round it and chanted. An
old man then stepped up to the fire and in a coaxing voice invited
the demon of the wind to come under the fire and warm himself. When
he was supposed to have arrived, a vessel of water, to which each man
present had contributed, was thrown on the flames by an old man, and
immediately a flight of arrows sped towards the spot where the fire had
been. They thought that the demon would not stay where he had been so
badly treated. To complete the effect, guns were discharged in various
directions, and the captain of a European vessel was invited to fire
on the wind with cannon.[1175] On the twenty-first of February 1883
a similar ceremony was performed by the Esquimaux of Point Barrow,
Alaska, with the intention of killing the spirit of the wind. Women
drove the demon from their houses with clubs and knives, with which
they made passes in the air; and the men, gathering round a fire, shot
him with their rifles and crushed him under a heavy stone the moment
that steam rose in a cloud from the smouldering embers, on which a tub
of water had just been thrown.[1176]
[Sidenote: Confronting the storm with swords and drums.]
In ancient India the priest was directed to confront a storm, armed to
the teeth with a bludgeon, a sword, and a firebrand, while he chanted
a magical lay.[1177] During a tremendous hurricane the drums of
Kadouma, near the Victoria Nyanza, were heard to beat all night. When
next morning a missionary enquired the cause, he was told that the
sound of the drums is a charm against storms.[1178] The Sea Dyaks and
Kayans of Borneo beat gongs when a tempest is raging; but the Dyaks,
and perhaps the Kayans also, do this, not so much to frighten away the
spirit of the storm, as to apprise him of their whereabouts, lest he
should inadvertently knock their houses down. Heard at night above the
howling of the storm, the distant boom of the {p329} gongs has a weird
effect; and sometimes, before the notes can be distinguished for the
wind and rain, they strike fear into a neighbouring village; lights
are extinguished, the women are put in a place of safety, and the
men stand to their arms to resist an attack. Then with a lull in the
wind the true nature of the gong-beating is recognised, and the alarm
subsides.[1179]
[Sidenote: Attacking the whirlwind with weapons.]
On calm summer days in the Highlands of Scotland eddies of wind
sometimes go past, whirling about dust and straws, though not another
breath of air is stirring. The Highlanders think that the fairies
are in these eddies carrying away men, women, children, or animals,
and they will fling their left shoe, or their bonnet, or a knife, or
earth from a mole-hill at the eddy to make the fairies drop their
booty.[1180] When a gust lifts the hay in the meadow, the Breton
peasant throws a knife or a fork at it to prevent the devil from
carrying off the hay.[1181] Similarly in the Esthonian island of
Oesel, when the reapers are busy among the corn and the wind blows
about the ears that have not yet been tied into sheaves, the reapers
slash at it with their sickles.[1182] The custom of flinging a knife
or a hat at a whirlwind is observed alike by German, Slavonian, and
Esthonian rustics; they think that a witch or wizard is riding on the
blast, and that the knife, if it hits the witch, will be reddened by
her blood or will disappear altogether, sticking in the wound it has
inflicted.[1183] {p330} Sometimes Esthonian peasants run shrieking
and shouting behind a whirlwind, hurling sticks and stones into the
flying dust.[1184] The Lengua Indians of the Gran Chaco ascribe the
rush of a whirlwind to the passage of a spirit and they fling sticks
at it to frighten it away.[1185] When the wind blows down their huts,
the Payaguas of South America snatch up firebrands and run against
the wind, menacing it with the blazing brands, while others beat the
air with their fists to frighten the storm.[1186] When the Guaycurus
are threatened by a severe storm, the men go out armed, and the women
and children scream their loudest to intimidate the demon.[1187]
During a tempest the inhabitants of a Batta village in Sumatra have
been seen to rush from their houses armed with sword and lance. The
rajah placed himself at their head, and with shouts and yells they
hewed and hacked at the invisible foe. An old woman was observed to be
specially active in the defence of her house, slashing the air right
and left with a long sabre.[1188] In a violent thunderstorm, the peals
sounding very near, the Kayans of Borneo have been seen to draw their
swords threateningly half out of their scabbards, as if to frighten
away the demons of the storm.[1189] In Australia the huge columns of
red sand that move rapidly across a desert tract are thought by the
natives to be spirits passing along. Once {p331} an athletic young black
ran after one of these moving columns to kill it with boomerangs. He
was away two or three hours, and came back very weary, saying he had
killed Koochee (the demon), but that Koochee had growled at him and
he must die.[1190] Of the Bedouins of eastern Africa it is said that
“no whirlwind ever sweeps across the path without being pursued by a
dozen savages with drawn creeses, who stab into the centre of the dusty
column in order to drive away the evil spirit that is believed to be
riding on the blast.”[1191]
[Sidenote: Fighting the simoom.]
In the light of these examples a story told by Herodotus, which his
modern critics have treated as a fable, is perfectly credible. He
says, without however vouching for the truth of the tale, that once in
the land of the Psylli, the modern Tripoli, the wind blowing from the
Sahara had dried up all the water-tanks. So the people took counsel
and marched in a body to make war on the south wind. But when they
entered the desert the simoom swept down on them and buried them to a
man.[1192] The story may well have been told by one who watched them
disappearing, in battle array, with drums and cymbals beating, into the
red cloud of whirling sand.
{p332}