"The Banjaras," Sir A. Lyall writes, [209] "are terribly vexed
by witchcraft, to which their wandering and precarious existence
especially exposes them in the shape of fever, rheumatism and
dysentery. Solemn inquiries are still held in the wild jungles where
these people camp out like gipsies, and many an unlucky hag has been
strangled by sentence of their secret tribunals." The business of
magic and witchcraft was in the hands of two classes of Bhagats or
magicians, one good and the other bad, [210] who may correspond to
the European practitioners of black and white magic. The good Bhagat
is called Nimbu-katna or lemon-cutter, a lemon speared on a knife
being a powerful averter of evil spirits. He is a total abstainer
from meat and liquor, and fasts once a week on the day sacred to the
deity whom he venerates, usually Mahadeo; he is highly respected and
never panders to vice. But the Janta, the 'Wise or Cunning Man,' is
of a different type, and the following is an account of the devilry
often enacted when a deputation visited him to inquire into the cause
of a prolonged illness, a cattle murrain, a sudden death or other
misfortune. A woman might often be called a Dakun or witch in spite,
and when once this word had been used, the husband or nearest male
relative would be regularly bullied into consulting the Janta. Or
if some woman had been ill for a week, an avaricious [211] husband
or brother would begin to whisper foul play. Witchcraft would be
mentioned, and the wise man called in. He would give the sufferer a
quid of betel, muttering an incantation, but this rarely effected a
cure, as it was against the interest of all parties that it should
do so. The sufferer's relatives would then go to their Naik, tell him
that the sick person was bewitched, and ask him to send a deputation
to the Janta or witch-doctor. This would be at once despatched,
consisting of one male adult from each house in the hamlet, with
one of the sufferer's relatives. On the road the party would bury
a bone or other article to test the wisdom of the witch-doctor. But
he was not to be caught out, and on their arrival he would bid the
deputation rest, and come to him for consultation on the following
day. Meanwhile during the night the Janta would be thoroughly coached
by some accomplice in the party. Next morning, meeting the deputation,
he would tell every man all particulars of his name and family; name
the invalid, and tell the party to bring materials for consulting the
spirits, such as oil, vermilion, sugar, dates, cocoanut, _chironji_,
[212] and sesamum. In the evening, holding a lamp, the Janta would
be possessed by Mariai, the goddess of cholera; he would mention
all particulars of the sick man's illness, and indignantly inquire
why they had buried the bone on the road, naming it and describing
the place. If this did not satisfy the deputation, a goat would be
brought, and he would name its sex with any distinguishing marks on the
body. The sick person's representative would then produce his _nazar_
or fee, formerly Rs. 25, but lately the double of this or more. The
Janta would now begin a sort of chant, introducing the names of the
families of the _kuri_ other than that containing her who was to be
proclaimed a witch, and heap on them all kinds of abuse. Finally, he
would assume an ironic tone, extol the virtues of a certain family,
become facetious, and praise its representative then present. This
man would then question the Janta on all points regarding his own
family, his connections, worldly goods, and what gods he worshipped,
ask who was the witch, who taught her sorcery, and how and why she
practised it in this particular instance. But the witch-doctor, having
taken care to be well coached, would answer everything correctly and
fix the guilt on to the witch. A goat would be sacrificed and eaten
with liquor, and the deputation would return. The punishment for
being proclaimed a Dakun or witch was formerly death to the woman
and a fine to be paid by her relatives to the bewitched person's
family. The woman's husband or her sons would be directed to kill
her, and if they refused, other men were deputed to murder her, and
bury the body at once with all the clothing and ornaments then on
her person, while a further fine would be exacted from the family
for not doing away with her themselves. But murder for witchcraft
has been almost entirely stopped, and nowadays the husband, after
being fined a few head of cattle, which are given to the sick man,
is turned out of the village with his wife. It is quite possible,
however, that an obnoxious old hag would even now not escape death,
especially if the money fine were not forthcoming, and an instance
is known in recent times of a mother being murdered by her three
sons. The whole village combined to screen these amiable young men,
and eventually they made the Janta the scapegoat, and he got seven
years, while the murderers could not be touched. Colonel Mackenzie
writes that, "Curious to relate, the Jantas, known locally as Bhagats,
in order to become possessed of their alleged powers of divination and
prophecy, require to travel to Kazhe, beyond Surat, there to learn and
be instructed by low-caste Koli impostors." This is interesting as an
instance of the powers of witchcraft being attributed by the Hindus or
higher race to the indigenous primitive tribes, a rule which Dr. Tylor
and Dr. Jevons consider to hold good generally in the history of magic.