The home of the TCHUKTCHI is at the extreme north-eastern point of

Asia; bounded by the Polar Ocean on one side, and by Behring Sea on the

other. It is, as the few travellers who have visited it say, one of the

dreariest regions of the earth. There is no indication of summer before

July 20th, and winter begins about the 20th of August. The sea coasts

abound with seals, sea-lions, and walruses; while the wolf, reindeer,

and Arctic fox abound in the interior. In this cold, desolate region

dwell the only aboriginal race of Northern Asia that has resisted all

attempts of the Russian government to take away its independence. Dr.

Hartwig, in his sketch of this tribe, says: “The rulers of Siberia have

confined them within narrower limits, but they obey no foreign leader,

and wander unmolested, with their numerous reindeer herds, over the

naked tundras.”

A natural distrust of their powerful neighbors has rendered them long

unwilling to enter into any commercial intercourse with the Russians,

and to meet them at the fair of Ostrownoje, a small town, situated not

far from their frontiers, on a small island of the Aninj, in 68° N. lat.

From the East Cape of Asia, where, crossing Behring’s Strait in boats

covered with skins, they barter furs and walrus teeth with the natives

of America, the Tchuktchi come with their goods and tents drawn on

sledges to the fair of Ostrownoje. One of these caravans generally

consists of fifty or sixty families, and one fair is scarcely at an end

when they set off to make their arrangements for the next.

Tobacco is the _primum mobile_ of the trade which centres in

Ostrownoje. Their pipes are of a peculiar character, larger at the

stem than the bowl, which holds a very small quantity of tobacco. In

smoking, they swallow the fumes of the tobacco, and often, after six or

eight whiffs, fall back, completely intoxicated for the time.

But Ostrownoje attracts not only Tchuktchi and Russians; a great

number of the Siberian tribes, from a vast circuit of 1,000 or 1,500

versts,--Jukahiri, Lamutes, Tungusi, Tschuwanzi, Koriacks,--also come

flocking in their sledges, drawn partly by dogs, partly by horses, for

the purpose of bartering their commodities against the goods of the

Tchuktchi. Fancy this barbarous assembly meeting every year during

the intense cold and short days of the beginning of March. Picture to

yourself the fantastic illumination of their red watch-fires blazing

under the starry firmament, or mingling their ruddy glare with the

aurora flickering through the skies, and add to the strange sight the

hollow sound of the Shaman’s drum, and the howling of several hundreds

of hungry dogs, and you will surely confess that no fair has a more

original character than that of Ostrownoje.

The imperturbable gravity of the Tchuktch forms a remarkable contrast

with the greedy eagerness of the Russian trader. Although the Tchuktchi

have no scales with them, it is not easy to deceive them in the weight,

for they know exactly by the feeling of the hand whether a quarter of a

pound is wanting to the pound. The whole fair seldom lasts longer than

three days, and Ostrownoje, which must have but very few stationary

inhabitants indeed (as it is not even mentioned in statistical

accounts, which cite towns of seventeen souls), is soon after abandoned

for many months to its ultra-Siberian solitude.

But before we allow the Tchuktchi to retire to their deserts, we may

learn something more of their habits by accompanying Mr. Matiuschkin

Wrangell’s companion on a visit to the ladies of one of their first

chiefs. “We enter the outer tent, or ‘wamet,’ consisting of tanned

reindeer skins supported on a slender framework. An opening at the

top to let out the smoke, and a kettle in the centre, announce that

antechamber and kitchen are here harmoniously blended into one. But

where are the inmates? Most probably in that large sack made of the

finest skins of reindeer calves, which occupies, near the kettle, the

centre of the ‘wamet.’ To penetrate into this _sanctum sanctorum_ of

the Tchuktch household, we raise the loose flap which serves as a

door, creep on all-fours through the opening, cautiously re-fasten the

flap by tucking it under the floor-skin, and find ourselves in the

reception or withdrawing-room,--the ‘polog.’ A snug box, no doubt, for

a cold climate, but rather low, as we cannot stand upright in it, and

not quite so well ventilated as a sanitary commissioner would approve

of, as it has positively no opening for light or air. A suffocating

smoke meets us on entering. We rub our eyes, and when they have at

length got accustomed to the biting atmosphere, we perceive, by the

gloomy light of a train-oil lamp, the worthy family squatting on the

floor in a state of almost complete nudity. Without being in the

least embarrassed, Madame Leütt and her daughter receive us in their

primitive costume. But, to show us that the Tchuktchi know how to

receive company, and to do honor to their guests, they immediately

insert strings of glass beads in their greasy hair. Their hospitality

equals their politeness; for, instead of a cold reception, a hot dish

of boiled reindeer flesh, copiously irrigated with rancid train-oil by

the experienced hand of the mistress of the household, is soon after

smoking before us. Unfortunately, our effeminate taste is not up to the

_haut goût_ of her culinary art, and while Mr. Leütt does ample justice

to the artistic talent of his spouse, by rapidly bolting down pieces as

large as a fist, we are hardly able to swallow a morsel.”

Though most of the Reindeer or nomadic Tchuktchi have been baptized,

yet Wrangell supposes the ceremony to have been a mere financial

speculation on their part, and is convinced that the power of the

Shamans is still as great as ever. An epidemic had carried off a great

number of persons, and also whole herds of reindeer. In vain the

Shamans had recourse to their usual conjurations. The plague continued.

They consulted together, and directed that one of their most respected

chiefs, named Kotschen, must be sacrificed, to appease the irritated

spirits. Kotschen was willing to submit to the sentence, but none could

be found to execute it, until his own son, prevailed on by his father’s

exhortations, and terrified by his threatened curse, plunged a knife

into his heart, and gave his body to the Shamans.

Polygamy is general among the Tchuktchi, and they change their wives

as often as they please. Still, though the women are certainly slaves,

they are allowed more influence, and are subjected to less labor, than

among many savages. Among other heathenish and detestable customs, is

that of killing all deformed children, and all old people as soon as

they become unfit for the hardships and fatigues of a nomad life. They

do not indulge in any needless cruelty, but stupefy the aged victim, by

putting some substance up the nostrils before opening a vein. Two years

before Wrangell’s arrival at Kolyma there was an instance of this in

the case of one of their richest chiefs. Waletka’s father became infirm

and tired of life, and was put to death at his own express desire, by

some of his nearest relations.

The number of the Tchuktchi is greater than one might expect to find

in so sterile a country. According to the Russian missionaries, there

were, some years back, 52 ulusses or villages of the Onkilon (or

stationary Tchuktchi), with 1,568 tents, and 10,000 inhabitants, and

Wrangell tells us that the Tennygk (or Reindeer Tchuktchi), are at

least twice as numerous, so that the entire population of the land of

the Tchuktchi may possibly amount to 30,000.

JAKUTS.

The Jakuts are the most energetic of these races, having reached a

higher civilization than the others in the same latitude, with the

exception of Iceland, Finland, and Norway. They are a pastoral people,

hospitable, possess considerable mechanical skill, and are so shrewd

and cunning that no Russian can compete with them.

“Even in Siberia,” Wrangell says, “they are called ‘men of iron.’ Often

have I seen them sleeping at a temperature of 4° in the open air, and

with a thick ice rind covering their almost unprotected bodies.”

Though reserved and unsocial, they are kind to strangers that need

assistance. They are the universal carriers to the east of the Lena.

Bidding defiance to the cold and the storm, fearing neither the gloom

of the forest nor the dangers of the icy stream, yet they are not

emancipated from the old belief in Schamanism--the dread of evil

spirits. They number about 200,000, and form the principal part of the

population of the vast and dreary province of Jakutsk.

THE TUNGUSI.

This race having spread over East Siberia, driving before them the

Jakuts, Jukahiri, Tchuktchi, and other aboriginal tribes, were

conquered by the Russians, and are now as ignorant and uncivilized

as they were two hundred and fifty years ago. Dr. Hartwig, deriving

his information from Wrangell, the Arctic explorer, thus sketches the

traits of this people:--

“According to their occupations, and the various domestic animals

employed by them, they are distinguished by the names of Reindeer,

Horse, Dog, Forest, and River Tungusi; but, although they are found

from the basins of the Upper, Middle, and Lower Tunguska, to the

western shore of the sea of Ochotsk, and from the Chinese frontiers and

the Baikal to the Polar Ocean, their whole number does not amount to

more than 30,000, and diminishes from year to year, in consequence of

the ravages of the small-pox and other epidemic disorders transmitted

to them by the Russians. Only a few rear horses and cattle, the

reindeer being generally their domestic animal; and the impoverished

Tunguse, who has been deprived of his herd by some contagious disorder,

or the ravages of the wolves, lives as a fisherman on the borders

of a river, assisted by his dog, or retires into the forests as a

promyschlenik, or hunter.”

Of the miseries which here await him, Wrangell relates a melancholy

instance. In a solitary hut, in one of the dreariest wildernesses

imaginable, he found a Tunguse and his daughter. While the father, with

his long snow-shoes, was pursuing a reindeer for several days together,

this unfortunate girl remained alone and helpless in the hut,--which

even in summer afforded but an imperfect shelter against the rain and

wind,--exposed to the cold, and frequently to hunger, and without the

least occupation. No wonder that the impoverished Tungusi not seldom

sink into cannibalism. Neither the reindeer nor the dogs, nor the wives

and children of their more fortunate countrymen, are secure from the

attacks and voracity of these outcasts, who, in their turn, are treated

like wild beasts, and destroyed without mercy. A bartering trade is,

however, carried on with them, but only at a distance, and by signs;

each party depositing its goods, and following every motion of the

other with a suspicious eye.

The Russian government, anxious to relieve the misery of the

impoverished nomads, has given orders to settle them along the river

banks, and to provide them with the necessary fishing implements; but

only extreme wretchedness can induce the Tunguse to relinquish his free

life of the forest. His careless temper, his ready wit, and sprightly

manner, distinguish him from the other Siberian tribes,--the gloomy

Samoïede, the uncouth Ostiak, the reserved Jakut,--but he is said to

be full of deceit and malice. His vanity shows itself in the quantity

of glass beads with which he decorates his dress of reindeer leather,

from his small Tartar cap to the tips of his shoes. When chasing or

travelling on his reindeer through the woods, he of course lays aside

most of his finery, and puts on large water-tight boots, or sari,

well greased with fat, to keep off the wet of the morass. His hunting

apparatus is extremely simple. A small axe, a kettle, a leathern bag

containing some dried fish, a dog, a short gun, or merely a bow and

a sling, is all he requires for his expeditions into the forest.

With the assistance of his long and narrow snow-shoes, he flies over

the dazzling plains, and protects his eyes, like the Jakut, with a

net made of black horse-hair. He never hesitates to attack the bear

single-handed, and generally masters him. The nomad Tunguse naturally

requires a movable dwelling. His tent is covered with leather, or large

pieces of pliable bark, which are easily rolled up and transported

from place to place. The yourt of the sedentary Tunguse resembles

that of the Jakut, and is so small that it can be very quickly and

thoroughly warmed by a fire kindled on the stone hearth in the centre.

In his food the Tunguse is by no means dainty. One of his favorite

dishes consists of the contents of a reindeer’s stomach mixed with wild

berries, and spread out in thin cakes on the rind of trees, to be dried

in the air or in the sun. Those who have settled on the Wiluj and in

the neighborhood of Nertschinsk likewise consume large quantities of

brick tea, which they boil with fat and berries into a thick porridge,

and this unwholesome food adds, no doubt, to the yellowness of their

complexion.

But few of the Tungusi have been converted to Christianity, the

majority being still addicted to Shamanism. They do not like to bury

their dead, but place them, in their holiday dresses, in large chests,

which they hang up between two trees. The hunting apparatus of the

deceased is buried beneath the chest. No ceremonies are used on the

occasion, except when a Shaman happens to be in the neighborhood, when

a reindeer is sacrificed, on whose flesh the sorcerer and the relatives

regale themselves, while the spirits to whom the animal is supposed

to be offered are obliged to content themselves with the smell of the

burnt fat. As among the Samoïedes or the Ostiaks, woman is a marketable

ware among the Tungusi. The father gives his daughter in marriage for

twenty or a hundred reindeer, or the bridegroom is obliged to earn her

hand by a long period of service.

In East Siberia the Tungusi divide with the Jakuts the task of

conveying goods or travellers through the forests, and afford the

stranger frequent opportunities for admiring their agility and good

humor. On halting after a day’s journey, the reindeer are unpacked in

an instant, the saddles and the goods ranged orderly on the ground, and

the bridles collected are hung on branches of trees.

Comfortably seated on his reindeer saddle, the traveller may now amuse

himself with the dances, which the Tungusi accompany with an agreeable

song; or, if he choose to witness their agility in athletic exercises,

it only costs him a word of encouragement and a small donation of

brandy. Two of the Tungusi hold a rope, and swing it with all their

might, so that it does not touch the ground. Meanwhile a third Tunguse

skips over the rope, picks up a bow and arrow, spans the bow and shoots

the arrow, without once touching the rope. Some particularly bold and

expert Tungusi will dance over a sword which a person lying on his back

on the ground is swinging about with the greatest rapidity. Should our

traveller be a friend of chess, the Tungusi are equally at his service,

as they are passionately fond of this noblest of games, especially in

the Kolymsk district.

Like all other Siberian nomads, they visit, at least once a year,

the various fairs which are held in the small towns scattered here

and there over their immense territory, such as Kirensk, Olekminsk,

Bargusin and Ochotsk, which, before the opening of Amoor to trade, was

the chief port of East Siberia.

CHAPTER CXLVII.

SIBERIA--_Concluded_.

THE SAMOÏEDES AND OSTIAKS.

THEIR BARBARISM -- NUM, OR JILIBEAMBAERTJE -- SHAMANISM -- SAMOÏEDE

IDOLS -- SJADÆI -- HAHE -- THE TADEBTSIOS, OR SPIRITS -- THE TADIBES,

OR SORCERERS -- THEIR DRESS -- THEIR INVOCATIONS -- THEIR CONJURING

TRICKS -- REVERENCE PAID TO THE DEAD -- A SAMOÏEDE OATH -- APPEARANCE

OF THE SAMOÏEDES -- THEIR DRESS -- A SAMOÏEDE BELLE -- CHARACTER OF

THE SAMOÏEDES -- THEIR DECREASING NUMBERS -- TRADITIONS OF ANCIENT

HEROES -- OSTIAKS -- WHAT IS THE OBI? -- A SUMMER YOURT -- POVERTY OF

OSTIAK FISHERMEN -- A WINTER YOURT -- ATTACHMENT OF OSTIAKS TO THEIR

ANCIENT CUSTOMS -- ARCHERY -- APPEARANCE AND CHARACTER OF THE OSTIAKS.

The Samoïedes, the neighbors of the Laplanders, are still farther

removed from civilized society, and plunged in even deeper barbarism.

The wildest tundras and woods of Northern Russia and Western Siberia

are the home of the Samoïede. With his reindeer herds he wanders over

the naked wastes, from the eastern coasts of the White Sea to the

banks of the Chatanga, or hunts in the boundless forests between the

Obi and the Jenissei. His intercourse with the Russians is confined

to his annual visit at the fairs of such miserable settlements as

Obdorsk and Pustosersk, where, far from improving by their company,

he but too often becomes the prey of their avarice, and learns to

know them merely as cheats and oppressors. Protestant missionaries

have long since brought instruction to the Laplander’s hut, but the

majority of the less fortunate Samoïedes still adhere to the gross

superstitions of their fathers. They believe in a Supreme Being,--Num,

or Jilibeambaertje,--who resides in the air, and, like the Jupiter of

old, sends down thunder and lightning, rain and snow; and as a proof

that something of a poetic fancy is to be found even among the most

savage nations, they call the rainbow “the hem of his garment.” As this

deity, however, is too far removed from them to leave them any hope of

gaining his favor, they never think of offering him either prayer or

sacrifice. But, besides Num, there are a great many inferior spirits,

or idols, who directly interfere in human concerns,--capricious beings,

who allow themselves to be influenced by offerings, or yield to magical

incantations; and to these, therefore, the Samoïede has recourse when

he feels the necessity of invoking the aid or averting the wrath of a

higher power.

The chief of all Samoïede idols is in the island of Waygatz,--a cold

and melancholy Delos,--where it was already found by old Barentz. This

idol is a mere block of stone, with its head tapering to a point.

It has thus been fashioned, not by a mortal artist, but by a play

of nature. After this original the Samoïedes have formed many idols

of stone or wood of various sizes, which they call “Sjadæi,” from

their possessing a human physiognomy (sja). These idols they dress

in reindeer skins, and ornament them with all sorts of colored rags.

But a resemblance to the human form is not the necessary attribute

of a Samoïede idol; any irregularly shaped stone or tree may be thus

distinguished.

If the object is small, the savage carries it everywhere about with

him, carefully wrapped up; if too cumbersome to be transported, it

is reserved as a kind of national deity. As with the Ostiaks, each

Samoïede tribe has in its train a peculiar sledge,--the Hahengan,--in

which the household idols (or Hahe) are placed. One of these Penates

protects the reindeer, another watches over the health of his

worshippers, a third is the guardian of their connubial happiness, a

fourth takes care to fill their nets with fish. Whenever his services

are required, the Hahe is taken from his repository, and erected in the

tent or on the pasture ground, in the wood or on the river’s bank.

His mouth is then smeared with oil or blood, and a dish with fish

or flesh is set before him, in the full expectation that his good

offices will amply repay the savory repast. When his aid is no longer

necessary, he is put aside without any further ceremony, and as little

noticed as the Madonna of the Neapolitan fisherman after the storm has

ceased.

The Hahe, or idols, are very convenient objects of reverence to the

Samoïede, as he can consult them, or ask their assistance, without

being initiated in the secrets of magic; while the Tadebtsios, or

invisible spirits, which everywhere hover about in the air, and are

more inclined to injure than to benefit man, can only be invoked by a

Tadibe, or sorcerer, who, like the Cumæan sibyl, works himself into a

state of ecstatic frenzy. When his services are required, the first

care of the Tadibe is to invest himself with his magical mantle,--a

kind of shirt made of reindeer leather, and hemmed with red cloth. The

seams are covered in a similar manner, and the shoulders are decorated

with epaulettes of the same gaudy material. A piece of red cloth veils

the eyes and face,--for the Tadibe requires no external organs of sight

to penetrate into the world of spirits,--and a plate of polished metal

shines upon his breast.

Thus accoutred, the Tadibe seizes his magical drum, whose sounds summon

the spirits to his will. Its form is round, it has but one bottom, made

of reindeer skin, and is more or less decorated with brass rings, and

other ornaments, according to the wealth or poverty of its possessor.

During the ceremony of invocation, the Tadibe is generally assisted by

a disciple, more or less initiated in the magic art. They either sit

down, or walk about in a circle. The chief sorcerer beats the drum, at

first slowly, then with increasing violence, singing at the same time

a few words to a mystic melody. The disciple immediately falls in, and

both repeat the same monotonous chant.

At length the spirits appear, and the consultation is supposed to

begin; the Tadibe from time to time remaining silent, as if listening

to their answers, and but gently beating his drum, while the assistant

continues to sing. Finally, this mute conversation ceases, the song

changes into a wild howling, the drum is violently struck, the eye of

the Tadibe glows with a strange fire, foam issues from his lips, when

suddenly the uproar ceases, and the oracular sentence is pronounced.

The Tadibes are consulted, not only for the purpose of recovering a

strange reindeer, or to preserve the herd from a contagious disorder,

or to obtain success in fishing. The Samoïede, when a prey to illness,

seeks no other medical advice; and the sorcerer’s drum either scares

away the malevolent spirits that cause the malady, or summons other to

the assistance of his patient.

Besides dealing with the invisible world, the Tadibe does not neglect

the usual arts of an expert conjurer, and knows by this means how to

increase his influence over his simple-minded countrymen. One of his

commonest tricks is similar to that which has been practised with so

much success by the brothers Davenport. He sits down, with his hands

and feet bound, on a reindeer skin stretched out upon the floor, and,

the light being removed, begins to summon the ministering spirits to

his aid. Strange, unearthly noises now begin to be heard; bears growl,

snakes hiss, squirrels rustle about the hut. At length the tumult

ceases, the audience anxiously awaits the end of the spectacle, when

suddenly the Tadibe, freed from his bonds, steps into the hut, no one

doubting that the spirits have set him free.

As barbarous as the poor wretches who submit to his guidance, the

Tadibe is incapable of improving their moral condition, and has no wish

to do so. Under various names,--Schamans among the Tungusi, Angekoks

among the Esquimaux, medicine-men among the North American Indians,--we

find similar magicians or impostors assuming a spiritual dictatorship

over all the Arctic nations of the Old and the New World, wherever

their authority has not been broken by Christianity or Buddhism. This

dreary faith still extends its influence over at least half a million

of souls, from the White Sea to the extremity of Asia, and from the

Pacific to Hudson’s Bay.

Like the Ostiaks and other Siberian tribes, the Samoïedes honor the

memory of the dead by sacrifices and other ceremonies. They believe

that their deceased friends have still the same wants and pursue the

same occupations as when in the land of the living; and thus they place

in or about their graves a sledge, a spear, a cooking-pot, a knife, an

axe, etc., to assist them in procuring and preparing their food. At

the funeral, and for several years afterward, the relations sacrifice

reindeer over the grave. When a person of note, a prince, a Starschina,

the proprietor of numerous herds of reindeer, dies (for even among the

miserable Samoïedes we find the social distinctions of rich and poor),

the nearest relations make an image, which is placed in the tent of the

deceased, and enjoys the respect paid to him during his lifetime. At

every meal the image is placed in his former seat, and every evening it

is undressed and laid down in his bed. During three years the image is

thus honored, and then buried; for by this time the body is supposed to

be decayed, and to have lost all sensation of the past. The souls of

the Tadibes, and of those who have died a violent death, alone enjoy

the privilege of immortality, and after their terrestrial life hover

about in the air as unsubstantial spirits.

Like the Ostiaks, the Samoïedes consider the taking of an oath as an

action of the highest religious importance. When a crime has been

secretly committed against a Samoïede, he has the right to demand an

oath from the suspected person.

If no wooden or stone Hahe is at hand, he manufactures one of earth or

snow, leads his opponent to the image, sacrifices a dog, breaks the

image, and then addresses him with the following words: “If thou hast

committed this crime, then must thou perish like this dog.” The ill

consequences of perjury are so much dreaded by the Samoïedes,--who,

though they have but very faint ideas of a future state, firmly believe

that crime will be punished in this life: murder with violent death,

or robbery by losses of reindeer,--that the true criminal, when called

upon to swear, hardly ever submits to the ceremony, but rather at once

confesses his guilt, and pays the penalty.

The most effectual security for an oath is that it should be solemnized

over the snout of a bear,--an animal which is highly revered by all

the Siberian tribes, from the Kamschatkans to the Samoïedes, as well

as by the Laplanders. Like the Laplanders, they believe that the bear

conceals under his shaggy coat a human shape with more than human

wisdom, and speak of him in terms of the highest reverence. Like the

Lapps, also, they will drive an arrow or a bullet through his skin; but

they preface the attack with so many compliments that they feel sure of

disarming his anger.

The appearance of the Samoïedes is as wild as the country which they

inhabit. The dwarfish stature of the Ostiak or the Lapp, thick lips,

small eyes, a low forehead, a broad nose, so much flattened that the

end is nearly upon a level with the bone of the upper jaw (which is

strong and greatly elevated), raven-black, shaggy hair, a thin beard,

and a yellow-brown complexion, are their characteristic features, and

in general they do nothing to improve a form which has but little

natural beauty to boast of. The Samoïede is satisfied if his heavy

reindeer dress affords him protection against the cold and rain, and

cares little if it be dirty or ill-cut; some dandies, however, wear

furs trimmed with cloth of a gaudy color. The women, as long as they

are unmarried, take some pains with their persons; and when a Samoïede

girl, with her small and lively black eyes, appears in her reindeer

jacket tightly fitting round the waist, and trimmed with dog-skin, in

her scarlet moccasins, and her long, black tresses, ornamented with

pieces of brass or tin, she may well tempt some rich admirer to offer a

whole herd of reindeer for her hand. For among the Samoïedes no father

ever thinks of bestowing a portion on his daughter; on the contrary,

he expects from the bridegroom an equivalent for the services which he

is about to lose by her marriage. The consequence of this degrading

custom is that the husband treats his consort like a slave, or as

an inferior being. A Samoïede, who had murdered his wife, was quite

surprised at being summoned before a court of justice, for what he

considered a trifling offence; “he had honestly paid for her,” he said,

“and could surely do what he liked with his own.”

The senses and faculties of the Samoïedes correspond to their mode of

life as nomads and hunters. They have a piercing eye, delicate hearing,

and a steady hand; they shoot an arrow with great accuracy, and are

swift runners.

The Samoïede is good-natured, melancholy, and phlegmatic. He has,

indeed, but indistinct notions of right and wrong, of good and evil;

but he possesses a grateful heart, and is ready to divide his last

morsel with his friend. Cruelty, revenge, the darker crimes that

pollute so many of the savage tribes of the tropical zone, are foreign

to his character. Constantly at war with a dreadful climate, a prey to

ignorance and poverty, he regards most of the things of this life with

supreme indifference.

A common trait in the character of all Samoïedes is the gloomy view

which they take of life and its concerns; their internal world is as

cheerless as that which surrounds them. True men of ice and snow, they

relinquish, without a murmur, a life which they can hardly love, as it

imposes upon them many privations, and affords them but few pleasures

in return.

The entire number of the European and Asiatic Samoïedes is estimated

at no more than about 10,000, and this number, small as it is when

compared to the vast territory over which they roam, is still

decreasing from year to year. Before their subjugation by the Russians,

the Samoïedes were frequently at war with their neighbors, the Ostiaks,

the Woguls, and the Tartars, and the rude poems which celebrate the

deeds of the heroes of old are still sung in the tents of their

peaceful descendants. The _minstrel_, or _troubadour_,--if I may be

allowed to use these names while speaking of the rudest of mankind,--is

seated in the centre of the hut, while the audience squat around. His

gesticulations endeavor to express his sympathy with his hero. His

body trembles, his voice quivers, and during the more pathetic parts

of his story, tears start to his eyes, and he covers his face with his

left hand, while the right, holding an arrow, directs its point to the

ground. The audience generally keep silence, but their groans accompany

the hero’s death; or when he soars upon an eagle to the clouds, and

thus escapes the malice of his enemies, they express their delight by a

triumphant shout.

THE OSTIAKS.

What is the Obi? “One of the most melancholy rivers on earth,” say the

few European travellers who have ever seen it roll its turbid waters

through the wilderness; “its monotonous banks a dreary succession of

swamps and dismal pine forests, and hardly a living creature to be

seen, but cranes, wild ducks, and geese.” If you address the same

question to one of the few Russians who have settled on its banks, he

answers, with a devout mien, “Obi is our mother”; but if you ask the

Ostiak, he bursts forth in a laconic but energetic phrase, “Obi is the

god whom we honor above all other gods.”

To him the Obi is a source of life. With its salmon and sturgeon he

pays his taxes and debts, and buys his few luxuries; while the fishes

of inferior quality which get entangled in his net he keeps for his

own consumption and that of his faithful dog, eating them mostly raw,

so that the perch not seldom feels his teeth as soon as it is pulled

out of the water. In spring, when the Obi and its tributaries burst

their bonds of ice, and the floods sweep over the plains, the Ostiak is

frequently driven into the woods, where he finds but little to appease

his hunger. At length, however, the waters subside, the flat banks

of the river appear above their surface, and the savage erects his

summer hut close to its stream. This hovel has generally a quadrangular

form, low walls, and a high-pointed roof, made of willow branches

covered with large pieces of bark. These, having first been softened

by boiling, are sewed together, so as to form large mats or carpets,

easily rolled up and transported. The hearth, a mere hole inclosed

by a few stones, is in the centre, and the smoke escapes through an

aperture at the top. Close to the hut there is also, generally, a small

store-house erected on high poles, as in Lapland; for the provisions

must be secured against the attacks of the glutton, the wolf, or the

owner’s dogs.

At the beginning of winter the Ostiaks retire into the woods, where

they find, at least, some protection against the Arctic blasts, and are

busy hunting the sable or squirrel; but as fishing affords them at all

times their chief food, they take care to establish their winter huts

on some eminence above the reach of the spring inundations, near some

small river, which, through holes made in the ice, affords their nets

and anglers a precarious supply. Their winter yourt is somewhat more

solidly constructed than their summer residence, as it is not removed

every year. It is low and small, and its walls are plastered with clay.

Light is admitted through a piece of ice inserted in the wall or on the

roof.

Besides those who live solely upon fishes and birds of passage, there

are other Ostiaks who possess reindeer herds, and wander in summer to

the border of the Polar Sea, where they also catch seals and fish. When

winter approaches, they slowly return to the woods. Finally, in the

more southerly districts, there are some Ostiaks who, having entirely

adopted the Russian mode of life, cultivate the soil, keep cattle, or

earn their livelihood as carriers.

In general, however, the Ostiak, like the Samoïede, obstinately

withstands all innovations, and remains true to the customs of his

forefathers. He has been so often deceived by the Russians that he is

loth to receive the gifts of civilization from their hands. He fears

that if his children learn to read and write, they will no longer be

satisfied to live like their parents, and that the school will deprive

him of the support of his age. He is no less obstinately attached to

the religion of his fathers, which in all essential points is identical

with that of the Samoïedes. In some of the southern districts, along

the Irtysch, at Surgut, he has indeed been baptized, and hangs up

the image of a saint in his hut, as his Russian pope or priest has

instructed him to do; but his Christianity extends no further. Along

the tributaries of the Obi, and below Obdorsk, he is still plunged in

Schamanism.

Like the Samoïedes, the Ostiaks, whose entire number amounts to about

25,000, are subdivided into tribes, reminding one of the Highland

clans. Each tribe consists of a number of families, of a common

descent, and sometimes comprising many hundred individuals, who,

however distantly related, consider it a duty to assist each other in

distress.

The Ostiaks are excellent archers, and, like all the other hunting

tribes of Siberia, use variously constructed arrows for the different

objects of their chase.

They are generally of a small stature, and most of them are

dark-complexioned, with raven-black hair like the Samoïedes; some of

them, however, have a fairer skin and light-colored hair. They are a

good-natured, indolent, honest race; and though they are extremely

dirty, yet their smoky huts are not more filthy than those of the

Norwegian or Icelandic fishermen.

As among the Samoïedes, the women are in a very degraded condition, the

father always giving his daughter in marriage to the highest bidder.

The price is very different, and rises or falls according to the

circumstances of the parent; for while the rich man asks fifty reindeer

for his child, the poor fisherman is glad to part with his daughter for

a few squirrel-skins and dried sturgeon.

CHAPTER CXLVIII.

INDIA.

THE SOWRAHS AND KHONDS.

LOCALITY OF THE SOWRAH TRIBE -- GENERAL APPEARANCE -- THE TARTAR

CHARACTER OF THE FEATURES -- DRESS OF THE MEN, THEIR SCANTY COSTUME

AND PLENTIFUL ORNAMENTS -- CURIOUS EAR-RINGS -- DRESS OF THE WOMEN --

MODE OF OBTAINING CLOTHES FOR WINTER USE -- WEAPONS OF THE SOWRAHS

-- THEIR COURAGE, AND THE APPREHENSION WHICH THEY EXCITE -- A SOWRAH

WEDDING -- RELIGIOUS SYSTEM OF THE SOWRAHS -- THEIR TRUTHFULNESS --

THE KHONDS -- DRESS AND APPEARANCE -- THE KHOND POCKET -- FEATURES OF

THE WOMEN -- THE MERIAH SACRIFICE AND ITS OBJECT -- PROCURING OF THE

VICTIM -- VARIOUS MODES OF PERFORMING THE SACRIFICE -- SUBSTITUTE FOR

THE MERIAH -- STRANGE USE OF BRACELETS -- THE MERIAHS’ INDIFFERENCE

TO THEIR FATE -- INFANTICIDE -- WEAPONS OF THE KHONDS -- DEATH OF A

BEAR -- PRIDE OF THE KHONDS -- SUPERSTITION -- BELIEF IN THE POWER OF

TRANSFORMATION -- A KHOND MARRIAGE.

The reader may remember that the Andaman Islands trench closely upon

the shores of India, thus bringing closely together the two phases of

utter savagery that never has advanced in the scale of humanity, and of

a civilization which has advanced to the utmost limits of which it is

capable. In the following pages I propose to give a brief account of

various phases of Indian life, throwing most emphasis upon those which

trench least upon civilization, as being most akin to the objects of

this work.

From the figures which illustrate this country, and which are all taken

from photographs, the reader will notice the very distinct type of man

which is exhibited throughout India; and though in some of the tribes

there is a facial resemblance to the Australian type, and in others to

the Mongolian, it is impossible to mistake an entire figure in either

instance. We will begin with those parts of India which are the least

civilized, and in which the inhabitants retain most of their aboriginal

manners and customs.

* * * * *

There is a remarkable hill tribe of India which deserves a short

description, as the people seem to have preserved the original

characteristics of their race better than any other inhabitants of the

country. They are called Sowrahs, and live in a tract of country about

lat. 18° 30´ N., and long. 72° 30´ E.

The Sowrahs are a tolerably good-looking tribe, some of the girls

being even handsome, were not their faces disfigured by the nose

rings, of which one woman will often wear three. The men, as is the

case with all the Indian tribes, are slenderly built, and appear to be

devoid of muscles, especially in the legs. This apparent slightness,

however, conceals great muscular power, as has often been shown in the

skirmishes which their predatory habits constantly entail upon them. In

one of these skirmishes, a Sowrah who had been taken prisoner suddenly

snatched a bayonet out of the hands of his captor, and bent the blade

double.

There is about the features of the Sowrahs a decidedly Tartar look,

which increases with age, and is marked most strongly in the men. Some

photographs of them now before me exhibit this characteristic very

distinctly marked, and in one case so strongly that, but for color and

the mode of dressing the hair, the face might easily be mistaken for

those of a genuine Tartar. Indeed, Mr. Hooper, from whose paper this

account is condensed, thinks that they may have a Tartar origin.

One remarkable point about the Sowrahs is, that they have no

distinction of caste, though they are divided into two distinct

classes, the Hill Sowrahs and the Sowrahs of the Plain. The latter are

comparatively civilized, and live in villages, and it is only of the

former that this work will treat.

The dress of the Sowrahs is primitive enough. The men wear nothing but

the “languti,” _i. e._ a narrow strip of cloth passing round the waist,

through the legs, and tucked into the waistband. They are, however,

very fond of ornaments, though they care so little about dress, and

have their necks loaded with beads, and their ears and nostrils

filled with rings. A photograph of one of these men shows that he is

wearing no less than twenty-seven bead necklaces, as well as a broad

brass collar. Besides the ordinary ear-rings, he wears an ornament

which seems rather popular among the Sowrahs. A hole is bored in the

upper part of the ear, and through it is passed one end of a string

almost four inches in length, to the other end of which is attached a

glittering bead about as large as a walnut. Some of the Sowrahs also

thread small beads upon the string.

The hair of the men is allowed to grow to a considerable length, and

on festival days it is gathered into a knot at the back of the head,

and adorned with feathers, mostly those of the peacock. This mode of

dressing the hair gives a very effeminate look to the countenance, and

on seeing a photograph of the face alone, especially if it be that of a

young man, it is not very easy at a hasty glance to discover whether it

is the portrait of a man or woman.

The dress of the women consists of a cloth wrapped round the waist.

Those women who have been photographed wear long calico cloths wrapped

round them from shoulder to knee after the ordinary Indian fashion; but

it is evident that they have borrowed these cloths for the occasion,

and so, after the custom of all uncivilized people, have contrived,

through anxiety to look their best, to baffle the real object of the

photographer, _i. e._ to represent them as they really appear. Like the

men, they wear an abundance of necklaces, and also are fond of simple

bracelets, consisting of broad metal bands wound spirally round the

wrists. The hair is parted down the middle, but no particular care is

expended upon it.

When the colder weather comes on, and the Sowrahs want more clothing,

they do not make it, but have recourse to the simple plan of waylaying

travellers, killing them, and taking their garments. In these

robberies, as well as in the skirmishes to which they often tend, the

Sowrahs chiefly use the bow and arrow. The bow is a comparatively weak

one, only being a yard or so in length, and having a string made of

the outer coating of the bamboo. The arrows are of reed, armed with a

flat, many-barbed iron head. The Sowrahs always lie in wait for their

victims, and direct their aim at the stomach and legs, so that the

wounds are always dangerous, and generally mortal.

They also carry a kind of battle-axe. They are a brave as well as a

warlike people, and are the terror of the inhabitants of the plains.

Even the Khonds, who will be presently described, ready as they are to

fight among each other, and skilled as they are in the use of the bow

and the battle-axe, stand in awe of the Sowrahs, and do not like to be

drawn into a quarrel with them. They are especially afraid of these

enemies, because the favorite mode of attack with the Sowrahs is to

make a raid under cover of night, and, after securing all the plunder

they can seize, and doing all the harm in their power, to return to

their hill fastnesses as rapidly as they issued from them.

General Campbell thinks that their mode of life may have something

to do with this superiority, and that their more abstemious and less

dissipated life renders them stronger and more enduring than their

self-indulgent neighbors. In some places, Sowrahs and Khonds dwell

together in tolerable amity, but both of the tribes, although they may

derive their origin from the same source, and both assert themselves to

be the aboriginal inhabitants of the land, and to have a right to its

possession, preserve their own characteristic differences so rigidly

that there is no difficulty in distinguishing a Sowrah from a Khond.

* * * * *

The ceremony of marriage among the Sowrahs, illustrated on the

following page, is thus described by Mr. Hooper: “A young man, or his

friends for him, having selected a bride, messengers are sent to her

parents, and finally the young man goes, bearing a pot of toddy, or

other present. If the consent of the parents is obtained, the ceremony

is commenced by fixing three posts in the ground, between which the

bride and bridegroom, with their respective friends, assemble, and a

feast is commenced at which nearly every person gets drunk upon toddy.

“The bride and bridegroom sit together, while turmeric water is poured

on their heads. Presents of cloth, beads, rings, etc., are exchanged,

fowls, and if possible sheep, are sacrificed to propitiate the demons,

and the flesh is then cooked, made up into balls with some sort of

grain, and distributed among the party. On these occasions they all

join in a dance, which seems to consist principally in hopping from one

leg to the other, at each movement snapping their fingers and uttering

an ejaculation, while at intervals the whole of the dancers come

bumping together, and then separate.

“If the parents of the bride refuse to consent to the marriage, it

frequently happens that the friends of the bridegroom watch their

opportunity, and if the girl is found alone, they seize and carry her

off. The relatives of the girl then pursue and attack the opposite

party, but, even though successful in retaking her, they are prohibited

by their customs from giving her in marriage to any one else. Should

such a thing be attempted, the parties would have to fight it out in a

more serious manner with bows and arrows.”

[Illustration: (1.) A SOWRAH MARRIAGE. (See page 1386.)]

[Illustration: (2.) MERIAH SACRIFICE. (See page 1391.)]

The reader will doubtless recognize the similarity of these marriage

rites to those which are practised by savage tribes in many parts of

the world.

In the account of the wedding, the propitiation of the demons is

mentioned. This is the key to their religious system, such as it is,

and explains the reason for the absence of caste. The Sowrahs of the

Plains seem to have a rather better religious system, but that of the

Hill Sowrahs is simply demonolatry. They seem to have but little notion

of worship, the only ceremonies which have been observed taking place

at harvest time. When the crops reach maturity, the owners set small

stones upright in the earth as emblems of the presiding demons, and

lay before them little heaps of each crop. After the offerings have

remained there for some little time, they are consumed at a feast to

which the proprietor of the crops invites his relatives and friends.

When a Sowrah dies, his body is burned, the ashes buried, and a small

building erected over the spot. Five days after the burial a pot of

toddy is laid on the grave, round which are placed a number of leaves

representing the ancestors of the deceased. A little toddy is poured

upon each leaf, and the remainder is drunk by the people who have

assisted at the ceremony. A somewhat similar rite, but accompanied with

feasting, is celebrated at the end of the first and fourth years after

burial.

According to General Campbell, they do not destroy their female

infants, as is done by too many of the Indian tribes, neither do they

practise human sacrifice. Yet they will sometimes participate in the

remarkable Meriah sacrifice, which will presently be described, and

will travel some distance to do so. They do not, however, seem to

attach very great importance to the rite, and when General Campbell

remonstrated with them on the subject, they at once promised to abandon

it, and not even to be present as spectators.

Perhaps the most characteristic trait of the Sowrahs is their absolute

truthfulness, which, according to Mr. Hooper, is the result from their

want of capacity to invent a lie.

THE KHONDS.

In the now renowned district of Orissa live the remarkable tribes

called Khonds, who, like the Sowrahs, appear to be immediately

descended from the aboriginal inhabitants, and to have retained, though

in a somewhat modified form, several of the customs of their savage

forefathers, the chief of which will be briefly described.

The Khonds are active, wiry, and of much darker complexion than the

inhabitants of the plains, and neither sex trouble themselves much

about clothing. The men wear a few yards of coarse cotton round their

waists, a separate piece dyed red hanging down behind like a tail.

Their hair is allowed to grow to its full length, and is twisted round

and round the head, and fastened in a knot in front, in which the Khond

always keeps a few cigars made of tobacco rolled in a green leaf.

He generally decorates this top-knot with a piece of red cloth and

feathers.

The women wear a rather large cloth round their loins, and decorate

themselves with vast quantities of beads and other ornaments, among

which the most conspicuous are some heavy bracelets, which are little

more than thick brass bands twined round their wrists. Among some of

the tribes, these ornaments are put to a very tragical use, as we shall

presently see. Slips of red cloth are considered very fashionable

ornaments by the Khond women, and in some cases strings of copper coins

are worn by way of necklaces. These, however, are mostly reserved for

the children. There is some excuse for the anxiety of the Khond women

to make the best of themselves, as they are very inferior to the men

in appearance, being short, stumpy, and so plain in features, that

they are pronounced by General Campbell to be absolutely repulsive.

Some photographs, however, which are now before me, do not give this

impression. Perhaps these women were selected for their good looks.

They are divided into many tribes, and as a rule live in villages

varying in population from forty to ten times the number. We will now

proceed to the manners and customs of the Khond tribes.

* * * * *

Throughout the whole of Khondistan there is a system of human

sacrifice, varying exceedingly in detail according to the locality, but

agreeing in all principal points. There is one point especially which

seems to be the very essence of the sacrifice, and which is common to

all the tribes. The victim, or Meriah, must be bought with a price.

Should a captive be taken in war, he may not be offered as a Meriah

by his captor, but he may be sold for that purpose, and will then be

accepted by the priests.

There is no restriction of age, sex, or caste, but adults are thought

more acceptable because they are more costly, and the healthy more

likely to propitiate the gods than the sick or feeble. That the Meriah

should be sacrificed is thought an absolutely necessary condition for

the prosperity of every undertaking, but especially for the growth

of the crops, and the Khonds therefore use every endeavor to secure

a succession of victims. Sometimes they purchase children from their

parents or relations when they have fallen into poverty, but, as a

rule, they are stolen by a set of robber tribes called Pannoos, who

decoy them into the hills, seize them, and sell them to the Khonds. It

is rather remarkable that although the Khonds avail themselves of the

services of the Pannoos, and are very glad to purchase victims, they

bear an intense hatred and contempt toward them, and, except in the way

of business, will have no dealings with them.

The Meriah victims have no reason to complain of their lot, with the

one exception that it must soon come to an end. They are well fed

and kindly treated, and, with the ruling fatalism of the Oriental

character, generally resign themselves to their fate, and make no

efforts to escape. Often a Meriah girl is married to a Khond man,

and allowed to live until she has borne children. These, as well as

herself, are liable to be sacrificed, but must never be offered in the

village wherein they were born. In order to avoid this difficulty, the

various towns agree to exchange their Meriah children.

The mode of sacrificing the Meriah is so exceedingly variable that it

will be necessary to give a short abstract of the various modes.

In the first place, the Meriah must always be sacrificed openly in the

sight of the people, and this rule is absolute throughout all the land.

In Goomsur, the sacrifice is offered to the Earth-god, Tado Pennor, who

is represented by the emblem of a peacock. When the time is fixed, the

victim is selected, and for a month there is much rejoicing, feasting,

and dancing round the Meriah, who is abundantly supplied with food and

drink, and is in all appearance as merry and unconcerned as any of the

people. On the day previous to the sacrifice a stout pole is set up,

having on its top the peacock emblem of Tado Pennor, and to it is bound

the Meriah. The people then dance round him, saying, in their chants,

that they do not murder the victim, but sacrifice one who was bought

with a price, and that therefore no sin rests with them. As the Meriah

is previously intoxicated with toddy, he can give no answer, and his

silence is taken as consent to his sacrifice.

Next day he is anointed with oil, and carried round the village, after

which he is brought to the peacock post, at the foot of which is a

small pit. A hog is then killed, and the blood poured into the pit

and mixed with the soil, so as to form a thick mud. The Meriah, who

has been previously made senseless from intoxication, is thrown into

the pit, with his face pressed into the mire until he is dead. The

officiating priest or zani then cuts off a small piece of the flesh of

the victim and buries it near the pit, as an offering to the earth,

and, as soon as he has done so, all the spectators rush upon the body,

hack it to pieces, and carry off the fragments to bury them in their

fields as a propitiation to the earth deities who produce the crops.

Revolting as this custom is, it is much more merciful than most modes

of Meriah sacrifice, inasmuch as suffocation is not a death involving

much physical pain, and the victim has been previously deprived of his

senses.

In Boad, the Meriah is taken round the village, when every one tries to

procure one of his hairs, or to touch his lips with their fingers so

that they may anoint their heads with the sacred moisture. After being

drugged into insensibility, he is taken to the fatal spot, where he is

strangled by placing his neck between the two halves of a split bamboo,

the ends of which are then brought together by the priests. The head

priest next breaks the bones of the arms and legs with his axe, and

when he has done so, the body is cut to pieces as in Goomsur.

In Chinna Kimeday a grotesquely cruel mode of sacrifice is employed.

In lieu of the peacock which is used at Goomsur, a large wooden figure

of an elephant is placed on the post, and revolves on a pivot. The

Meriah is tied to the extended proboscis of the elephant, and, amid the

yells of the spectators, is whirled round as fast as the figure can be

turned. In this case the Meriah is not drugged. At a signal from the

officiating zani, the crowd rush on the Meriah with their knives, and

in a few moments hack him to pieces as he is tied, still living, on the

elephant.

General Campbell, while executing his mission of mercy in Khondistan,

saw as many as fourteen of their elephant images, all of which he

caused to be pulled down and destroyed by the baggage elephants

attached to his force, so that the Khonds might see that those

venerated emblems of a cruel worship were powerless even against the

animals which they simulated. His task was naturally a difficult one,

as it involved the abolition of a rite which had existed from time

immemorial, and which no amount of reasoning could persuade them to be

wrong, much less criminal. So deeply was it ingrained in their nature,

that their only idea of his object in setting free so many hundred

Meriahs was, that he might sacrifice them on his own account, in order

to bring back water into a large tank which he was thought to have

constructed for the use of his elephants.

In this very place, a most singular circumstance occurred. The English

officer was told that a sacrifice was being actually performed, the

victim being a young and handsome girl, only fifteen or sixteen years

old. He instantly started off with an armed party, and found the

offering of the Meriah already complete, and nothing wanting but the

actual sacrifice. The aged priest was ready to give the signal, and the

surrounding people were mad with excitement, when the armed party came

to the rescue, and demanded the girl. The Khonds, furious as they were,

found that they dared not risk a collision, and so the party retired

with the rescued victim.

The remainder of the story has yet to be told. Scarcely were the

English soldiers out of sight than the assembled Khonds broke out

into loud murmurings at their disappointment. At last one of them hit

upon a happy thought. “Why,” said he, “should we be debarred from our

sacrifice? See our aged priest. Seventy summers have passed over his

head--what further use is he? Let us sacrifice _him_.” And forthwith

the old man was tied on the elephant, spun round, and cut to pieces.

In Maji Deso another mode of sacrifice is employed. They do not keep

a large supply of Meriahs, as do most of the tribes, but buy them

immediately before the sacrifice. The consequence is, that it is very

difficult to detect them, except in the very act of offering the

victim. Their mode of killing the Meriah is as follows. The Khonds

surround the victim, and beat him on the head with the heavy metal

bracelets, which they are in the habit of wearing. Mostly they kill

him in this way, but if they fail in doing so, they strangle him with

a split bamboo, as has already been described. The flesh of the back

is then cut into long and narrow strips, and each person carries off a

strip and suspends it on a pole, which he thrusts into the bed of the

stream which waters his fields.

In Patna, the mode of sacrifice varies exceedingly. In some cases the

victim is stoned, in others beaten to death with bamboos, together

with other barbarous modes of putting to death. General Campbell

remarks, that in this district there are places where sacrificing and

non-sacrificing tribes inhabit the same village. They live harmoniously

together until the time of sacrifice, when the non-sacrificing tribes

retire to their houses, and never pass through the front door of their

dwellings until seven days are over, and the remains of the Meriah

buried. After that time, all goes on as usual, until the next sacrifice

takes place.

Bundari appears to be the place where the people adhere most firmly to

the Meriah system. When General Campbell visited this district, they

refused to give up the Meriah, and on the near approach of his force,

fled to their hiding-places in the mountains. As he approached Bundari,

he found that the people had been actually offering a sacrifice, and

that they had gone off in such haste that they had left behind them

the sacrificial post with the head of a victim hanging to it by the

hair, and the fatal knife suspended beside it. The mode of sacrifice

employed in this district is thus described:--

“The sacrifice which had taken place, and which is called Junnah, is

performed as follows, and is always succeeded by the sacrifice of three

other human victims, two to the sun to the east and west, and one in

the centre, with the usual barbarities. A stout wooden post is firmly

fixed in the ground. At the foot of it a narrow grave is dug, and to

the top of the post the victim is firmly fastened by the long hair of

his head. Four assistants hold his outstretched arms and legs, the

body being suspended horizontally over the grave, with the face toward

the earth. The officiating zani, or priest, standing on the right

side, repeats the following invocation, at intervals hacking with his

sacrificing knife the back part of the shrieking victim’s neck:--

“‘O mighty Manicksoro, this is your festal day (to the Khonds the

sacrifice is Meriah, to the Rajahs, Junnah). On account of this

sacrifice you have given to Rajahs countries, guns, and swords. The

sacrifice we now offer, you must eat; and we pray that our battle-axes

may be turned into swords, and our bows and arrows into gunpowder

and balls, and if we have any quarrels with other tribes, give us

the victory, and preserve us from the tyranny of Rajahs, and other

officers.’

“Then, addressing the victim, he added, ‘that we may enjoy prosperity,

we offer you a sacrifice to our god Manicksoro, who will immediately

eat you, so be not grieved at our slaying you. Your parents were aware

when we purchased you from them for sixty gunties (articles) that we

did it with intent to sacrifice you; there is, therefore, no sin on

our heads, but on those of your parents. After you are dead, we shall

perform your obsequies.’”

This speech being concluded, the head of the victim is severed from

the body, and allowed to hang from the post until it is eaten by wild

beasts. The knife is also suspended from the post, and allowed to

remain there until the three additional sacrifices have been offered,

when it is removed with many ceremonies. Eight of these posts were

found in the village, and were all destroyed.

It is this mode of sacrifice which is shown in the illustration on page

1387. In the centre is seen the aged priest in the act of sacrificing

the Meriah, which in this case is a young girl. Her head is supported

by her long hair, which is tied to the top of the post, and her body is

held horizontally by the four assistants, who each grasp a hand or a

foot. On the right hand is shown a post, to which hangs the head of the

first sacrificed Meriah, and on the other side is another victim bound

by the hair to the post, waiting until the priest had completed the

sacrifice in which he is engaged.

One circumstance connected with the Meriah sacrifice is rather

remarkable, namely, the indifference to their fate that seems to

possess the victims. One young man, a Meriah, said that it was better

to be sacrificed among his own people, and to give them pleasure, than

to live upon the plains. The natives believe that this indifference

is caused by the Meriah food, a mixture of rice, turmeric, and other

ingredients, prepared with certain magical ceremonies. Even the Meriahs

themselves have this belief. For example, three young women were hired

by a seller of salt fish to carry his goods among the Khonds, and when

he got them there, the treacherous dealer sold not only the fish but

the women. Twice the victims attempted to escape, but were recaptured,

and after the second attempt, the Khonds fed them on Meriah food, when

they became reconciled to their fate, and made no further efforts to

escape.

Other ties seem to have their effect on the Meriahs. Sometimes a man

wishes to buy a Meriah, that being a very meritorious act; but the

cost is so great, amounting on an average to sixty-five rupees, that

the Khond is almost reduced to poverty. Under such circumstances, he

is unable to marry, inasmuch as he cannot pay the heavy price which is

demanded of a bridegroom. Accordingly, he buys a Meriah girl, and takes

her as his wife until the time when she may be required for sacrifice.

It has already been mentioned that children are sold by their parents

as Meriahs. This seems so cruel and heartless a system, that some

explanation ought to be offered. It is very seldom that such a purchase

is made, unless the parents be very poor, and fear that they shall not

be able to provide their children with food. In such cases they argue

that it is better for the child to be nourished and kindly treated, and

then to die as a sacrifice to the deities, than to perish by degrees

of starvation. Moreover, it is considered rather a meritorious action

for a parent to devote a child to the gods, and, when it is done, the

parents are very proud of such children, and regard them with respect

and admiration as belonging to the deities.

Another reason for the continuance of the Meriah sacrifice is the

slight regard in which the Khonds hold human life, sacrificing that

which we consider as priceless because they are indifferent to it, not

only with regard to others, but with regard to themselves.

That the custom of propitiating the deities of agriculture with living

sacrifices should be entirely abolished could not be expected, and

General Campbell found that the best mode of extinguishing human

sacrifice was to induce the Khonds to substitute that of a beast. This

was done in many cases, the sacrificers apologizing to the god for the

substitution, and begging him, if he should be angry, to vent his

wrath, not upon them, but upon the foreigner who had suggested the

alteration. He had no objection to this arrangement, and as the crops

turned out well afterward, it was to be supposed that all parties, the

gods included, were satisfied.

A very similar custom was once prevalent among certain tribes of the

Lower Amazon. The name of these tribes was Tapuyos, but this title has

now been given to all the inhabitants of the Lower Amazon district.

Prisoners taken in war by them were reserved for sacrifice. They were

treated with extreme kindness, fed in the most liberal manner, so that

they might be plump and fat, and were provided with wives. They were

generally allowed to live for several years, until their wives had

borne children. They were then taken to the place of sacrifice, and

killed with a single blow of a club; their children being carefully

reared, for the purpose of undergoing a similar fate after they had

grown up.

Even without reference to the Meriah system, the Khonds are in the

habit of killing their female children. This custom has arisen partly

from the fear of poverty, and partly from the system on which marriages

are conducted. The Khonds dislike marrying among themselves, and seek

their wives among distant tribes, alleging as a reason that they can

purchase them at a cheaper rate. But General Campbell tried to show

them that if they were to rear their own female children, they would

find them much cheaper as wives, and recommended them, as a beginning,

to marry their Meriah women, for whom a high price had already been

paid.

In some of the hills of Chinna Kimedy, children of both sexes are put

to death. As soon as a child is born, a priest is called to ascertain

whether it is to live or die. To effect this purpose, he employs a plan

very like the “Sortes Virgilianæ.” He produces a book, and, after some

prayers, thrusts an iron style at random among the leaves. He then

reads the passage to which the style points, and if it be unfavorable,

the child must die, or the fields would bear no more crops.

The fatal edict having been pronounced, the child is placed in a new

earthen vessel (which has been painted in red and black stripes), the

cover is fastened down, and the jar is buried. Some flowers and rice

are laid on the cover, and, after the earth is filled in, a fowl is

sacrificed upon the poor little victim’s grave.

* * * * *

Before leaving these remarkable tribes, we will glance slightly at one

or two of their most characteristic customs.

Their weapons are very simple, consisting of a curious sword fixed to

a gauntlet, the bow and arrow, and the axe. The last is the national

weapon of the Khonds, and in its use they are wonderfully adroit.

General Campbell mentions that a British officer was out in the evening

for the purpose of shooting a bear, but only wounded the animal

slightly, instead of killing it outright. The bear started for the

hills, but was pursued by several Khonds, who overtook it, got between

the hill and the bear, and then, armed only with their axes, attacked

and hacked the animal to pieces. These axes are about four feet long

in the handle, and have but small heads. These, however, are made of

good steel, and in the practised hand of a Khond the axe is a weapon

much more formidable than it looks. This exhibition of courage is the

more remarkable, because the actors in it were Meriah men who had

been rescued from sacrifice. The sword that has been mentioned is a

comparatively rare weapon, and belongs rather to the Ooryahs than to

the Khonds proper.

The Khond tribes seem to be rather fond of quarrelling among each

other, and carry on a kind of desultory or guerilla warfare. Pitched

battles they dislike, preferring to steal cattle from their opponents,

and to kill them by stealth, to meeting them in open fight. Indeed,

they pride themselves on doing as much injury as possible to their

antagonists, while receiving the least possible harm themselves.

Accordingly, when the delegates of two inimical tribes meet for the

purpose of restoring peace, some very absurd scenes take place. The

umpires call upon the representatives of the tribes to declare the

number of cattle stolen and men killed; and it is generally found

that the latter item is equally balanced, neither party caring to

acknowledge that a man of their own tribe has been killed, unless

the adversaries can prove it. They cannot but admit that the man was

killed, but attribute his death to accident, such as being carried off

by a tiger, or bitten by a snake.

Pride forms a great element in the Khond character. The people are

fond of their land, and nothing can induce a Khond to sell one yard

of ground to a foreigner, nor even to part with a single tree that

grows on that soil. Generally, they are too proud to barter, but leave

that business to the Pannoo tribes, by whom, as may be remembered,

the Meriah victims are generally furnished. Among the Khonds there

are but two employments worthy of their dignity, _i. e._ warfare and

agriculture, and all persons are despised who carry on any other

profession or business, even though they may profit by it themselves.

Yet there is no system of caste among them, such as we find among the

Hindoos, neither have they any prejudice in regard of diet, except

perhaps a dislike to milk.

As to the religion of the Khonds, it is of the simplest description,

and their worship is practically comprised in the Meriah sacrifice.

There are certain very barbarous sacred images to be found in the hill

districts, but no one seems to care or even to know much about them,

and the priests, or medicine men, are as ignorant or careless on the

subject as the people in general. It ought to be mentioned that very

elaborate accounts have been published respecting the religion of the

Khonds, their vast army of deities, and their quadruple souls. But

there is now no doubt that the information upon which these accounts

were based was simply invented by the narrators in order to suit their

own purposes.

Putting aside the Meriah system, the Khonds have several superstitions

in which they firmly believe, and the strangest of them is their

idea that certain human beings can transform themselves into tigers.

These persons are called “Pulta Bags,” and are very much dreaded by

the people, upon whose fears they intentionally play for the purpose

of extortion. Knowing that the ignorant people believe them to be

possessed of such a power, they extort food, clothing, and other

property from them at intervals, saying that they are poor, and unless

supplied with the necessaries of life, they will be forced to transform

themselves into tigers, and to carry off the cattle.

General Campbell mentions an instance where he was brought in contact

with, or rather in opposition to, this superstition. An excited crowd

came to him, accompanied by several armed men, who guarded two women.

One of the men then said that he and his son were in the jungle cutting

firewood, when a tiger sprang upon the lad and carried him off. The

father pursued the animal, shouting after it until it turned the

corner of the rock, when it disappeared, and on the top of the rock

were then seen the two women. The case was clear. These two women were

Pulta Bags. While in the tiger form they had carried off his son, but,

alarmed by his shouts, had hidden the body of the lad and resumed their

human shapes.

On being questioned, the women acknowledged that the story was true,

and that they did possess the power attributed to them. General

Campbell then offered to release them, provided that they would

transform themselves into tigers in his presence. This, to his

astonishment, they agreed to do, provided that he accompanied them to a

neighboring jungle. Finding, however, that the English general was not

so easily frightened as a Khond warrior, and that they would be taken

at their word, they threw themselves at his feet, and acknowledged

their imposture.

A remarkable instance of this belief is narrated by the same writer. A

brave little Khond, belonging to the irregular force, was engaged in

a conflict when several of the enemy were killed, among whom was one

who was shot by his own hand. Instead of being proud of his exploit,

he was seized with terror, declaring that the man whom he had killed

was a Pulta Bag, and that he would assume the shape of a tiger and

avenge himself. After the campaign was over, he obtained leave to visit

his family, and, previous to his departure, he brought his uniform,

asking that care might be taken of it, as he felt sure that he should

never wear it again. He joined his family, and lived with them for some

weeks, when, as he was watching his cattle, a tiger sprang on him, and

wounded him so cruelly that he shortly died. Nothing could persuade him

that the tiger was not the man whom he had shot, and the event only

strengthened the hold which the superstition has on the native mind.

Marriage is generally celebrated at the hunting season, probably

because the stores of food and drink are secured for that time, and

there is always plenty of food for the marriage feast. Among them

prevails the custom of carrying off the bride. The bridegroom snatches

up the girl and runs off with her, pursued by a number of young women

who try to snatch her from him, or at least pretend to do so. He,

however, is protected by twenty or thirty young men, who keep him

and his burden in their midst, and do their best to shield him from

the bamboos, stones, and other missiles which are hurled at him by

the women. When he reaches the boundaries of his own village, he is

supposed to have won his bride, while the assailing party scamper at

full speed to their own dwellings.

[Illustration: BOWS AND QUIVER. (_From my Collection._) (See page

1401.)]

CHAPTER CXLIX.

INDIA--_Continued_.

WEAPONS.

THE GHOORKA TRIBE AND THEIR FAVORITE WEAPON -- BLADE AND CURVED

HANDLE OF THE “KOOKERY” -- MODE OF STRIKING WITH IT -- THE ADDITIONAL

KNIVES -- MAKING “WOOTZ” STEEL -- FIGHTING A TIGER -- THE HUNTER’S

NECKLACE -- ROBBERS OF INDIA -- THE BURGLAR, THE BURROWER -- THE

PURSE CUTTER -- AN INGENIOUS THEFT -- STRANGE MODE OF ESCAPING

OBSERVATION -- VARIOUS BOWS -- THE PELLET BOW AND ITS DOUBLE STRING

-- THE REVERSED BOW AND MODE OF USING IT -- STRINGING THE BOW -- THE

VARIOUS ARROWS -- ARMOR AND CHAIN MAIL -- SIR HOPE GRANT’S SPECIMEN

-- INDIAN SWORDS AND MODE OF USING THEM -- VARIOUS DAGGERS -- THE

“CHAKRA” OR QUOIT WEAPON.

One of the hill tribes, called the Ghoorka tribe, is worthy of notice,

if only for the remarkable weapon which they use in preference to any

other. It is called the “kookery,” and is of a very peculiar shape.

One of the knives, drawn from a specimen in my collection, is given in

illustration No. 2, on page 1403. As may be seen by reference to the

drawing, both the blade and hilt are curved. The blade is very thick

at the back, my own specimen, which is rather a small one, measuring a

little more than a quarter of an inch in thickness. From the back it is

thinned off gradually to the edge, which has a curve of its own, quite

different to that of the back, so that the blade is widest as well as

thickest in the middle, and tapers at one end toward the hilt, and at

the other toward the point. The steel of which the blade is formed is

of admirable temper, as is shown by the fact that my specimen, which,

to my knowledge, has not been cleaned for thirty years, but has been

hung upon the wall among other weapons, is scarcely touched with rust,

and for the greater part of its surface is burnished like a mirror.

Indeed, on turning it about, I can see reflected upon its polished

surface the various objects of the room. The handle is made after a

very remarkable fashion, and the portion which forms the hilt is so

small that it shows the size of the hand for which it was intended.

This smallness of hilt is common to all Indian swords, which cannot be

grasped by an ordinary English soldier. My own hand is a small one, but

it is too large even for the heavy sabre or “tulwar,” while the handle

of the kookery looks as if the weapon were intended for a boy of six or

seven years old. Indeed, the Ghoorkas are so small, that their hands,

like those of all Indian races, are very delicate, about the same size

as those of an English boy of seven. The point of the kookery is as

sharp as a needle, so that the weapon answers equally well for cutting

or stabbing. In consequence of the great thickness of the metal, the

blade is exceedingly heavy, and it is a matter of much wonder how

such tiny hands as those of the Ghoorkas can manage so weighty a

weapon, which seems almost as much beyond their strength as does the

Andamaner’s gigantic bow to the dwarfish man who wields it. It may be

imagined that a blow from such a weapon as this must be a very terrible

one. The very weight of the blade would drive it half through a man’s

arm, if it were only allowed to fall from a little height. But the

Ghoorkas have a mode of striking which resembles the “drawing” cut of

the broadsword, and which urges the sharp edge through flesh and bone

alike.

Before passing to the mode in which the kookery is used, I may mention

that it is not employed for domestic purposes, being too highly valued

by the owner. For such purposes two smaller knives are used, of very

similar form, but apparently of inferior metal. These are kept in

little cases attached to the side of the kookery-sheath, just as is

the case with the knives attached to a Highlander’s dirk, or the

arrangement of the Dyak sword, which has already been described in the

article upon Borneo. There is also a little flat leathern purse, with

a double flap. This is pointed like a knife-sheath, and is kept in a

pocket of its own fastened upon the larger sheath.

In the illustration the kookery is shown with all its parts. Fig. 1

shows the kookery in its scabbard, the top of the purse and the handles

of the supplementary knives being just visible as they project from

the sheaths. At Fig. 2 the kookery itself is drawn, so as to show

the peculiar curve of the blade and the very small handle. Fig. 3

represents the purse as it appears when closed, and Figs. 4 and 5 are

the supplementary knives. My own specimen, which, as I have already

mentioned, is a small one, measures fifteen inches from hilt to point

in a straight line, and twenty-one inches if measured along the curve

of the back. Its weight is exactly twelve ounces. The knife is a very

plain one, no ornament of any kind being used, and the maker has

evidently contented himself with expending all his care upon the blade,

which is forged from the celebrated “wootz” steel.

This steel is made by the natives in a very simple but effectual

manner. After smelting the iron out of magnetic ore, the Indian smith

puts small pieces of it in a crucible, and mixes little bits of wood

with them. He then covers the crucible with green leaves and plenty of

clay, and puts it in his simple furnace. The furnace being lighted, a

constant blast of air is driven through it for about three hours, at

the expiration of which time the iron, now converted into cast-steel,

is found in the form of a small cake at the bottom of the crucible.

Wootz steel was at one time much used in England, and great numbers of

these cakes were imported.

In the hands of an experienced wielder this knife is about as

formidable a weapon as can be conceived. Like all really good weapons,

its efficiency depends much more upon the skill than the strength of

the wielder, and thus it happens that the little Ghoorka, a mere boy in

point of stature, will cut to pieces a gigantic adversary who does not

understand his mode of onset. The Ghoorka generally strikes upward with

the kookery, possibly in order to avoid wounding himself should his

blow fail, and possibly because an upward cut is just the one that can

be least guarded against.

Years ago, when we were engaged in the many Indian wars which led

at last to our Oriental empire, the Ghoorkas proved themselves

most formidable enemies, as since they have proved themselves most

invaluable allies. Brave as lions, active as monkeys, and fierce as

tigers, the lithe, wiry little men came leaping over the ground to

the attack, moving so quickly, and keeping so far apart from each

other, that musketry was no use against them. When they came near

the soldiers, they suddenly crouched to the ground, dived under the

bayonets, struck upward at the men with their kookeries, ripping them

open with a single blow, and then, after having done all the mischief

in their power, darting off as rapidly as they had come. Until our men

learned this mode of attack, they were greatly discomfited by their

little opponents, who got under their weapons, cutting or slashing with

knives as sharp as razors, and often escaping unhurt from the midst

of bayonets. They would also dash under the bellies of the officers’

horses, rip them open with one blow of the kookery, and aim another at

the leg of the officer as he and his horse fell together.

Perhaps no better proof can be given of the power of the weapon, and

the dexterity of the user, than the fact that a Ghoorka will not

hesitate to meet a tiger, himself being armed with nothing but his

kookery. He stands in front of the animal (see the next page), and

as it springs he leaps to the left, delivering as he does so a blow

toward the tiger. As the reader is aware, all animals of the cat tribe

attack by means of the paw; and so the tiger, in passing the Ghoorka,

mechanically strikes at him.

The man is well out of reach of the tiger’s paw, but it just comes

within the sweep of the kookery, and, what with the force of the

tiger’s stroke, what with the blow delivered by the man, the paw is

always disabled, and often fairly severed from the limb. Furious with

pain and rage, the tiger leaps round, and makes another spring at his

little enemy. But the Ghoorka is as active as the tiger, and has sprung

round as soon as he delivered his blow, so as to be on the side of

the disabled paw. Again the tiger attacks, but this time his blow is

useless, and the Ghoorka steps in and delivers at the neck or throat of

the tiger a stroke which generally proves fatal.

The favorite blow is one upon the back of the neck, because it severs

the spine, and the tiger rolls on the ground a lifeless mass. For

so fierce is the tiger’s fury, that, unless the animal is rendered

absolutely powerless, rage supplies for a few moments the place of

the ebbing life, and enables it to make a last expiring effort. All

experienced hunters know and dread the expiring charge of a wounded

lion or tiger, and, if possible, hide themselves as soon as they

inflict the death wound. If they can do so, the animal looks round for

its adversary, cannot see him, and at once succumbs; whereas, if it can

espy its enemy, it flings all its strength into one effort, the result

of which is frequently that the man and the tiger are found lying dead

together.

[Illustration: (1.) INGENIOUS RUSE OF BHEEL ROBBERS. (See page 1400.)]

[Illustration: (2.) GHOORKA ATTACKED BY A TIGER. (See page 1396.)]

Many of these little hunters are decorated with necklaces made from

the teeth and claws of the animals which they kill. One of these

necklaces is in my collection, and is figured in illustration No. 1,

on page 1403. It is made of the spoils of various animals, arranged

in the following way. The central and most prominent object is one of

the upper canine teeth of a tiger. The man may well be proud of this,

for it is a very fine specimen, measuring five inches and a half in

length, and more than three inches in circumference. This tooth is

shown at Fig. 5. At Fig. 1 is a claw from a fore-foot of a tiger,

evidently the same animal; and at Fig. 9 is a claw of the hind-foot.

Figs. 2, 3, 7, 8 are differently sized teeth of the crocodile; and

Figs. 4 and 6 represent claws from the foot of the sloth-bear. The

reader may remember that in all uncivilized countries such spoils are

of the highest value, and play the same part with regard to them, that

titles and decorations do among more civilized nations. Consequently,

it is almost impossible to procure such ornaments, the natives having

as strong objection to part with them as a holder of the Victoria Cross

would have to resign at the same time his badge and a right to wear it.

* * * * *

Among men of such a stamp, leading a half-savage existence, with ideas

necessarily limited to their own range of thought, it is likely that

a strange sort of morality should prevail. We have already seen that

there is one existing system in which treacherous murder, instead of

being regarded as a capital offence, is exalted into a religion, and we

may therefore expect that robbery may in some cases be considered as a

virtue. Certain it is that there are no more accomplished thieves in

the world than those of India.

The natives are justly celebrated for their wonderful powers of posture

making and conjuring, and it is to be expected that, when they turn

those powers to an evil use, they must be most dangerous opponents.

Lately a most valuable report has been issued by the Inspector-General

of Prisons, relating to the thieves of Lower Bombay, in the perusal of

which it is impossible to restrain a smile, so wonderfully ingenious

are the devices of the thieves, and so astonishing is the skill with

which they are employed.

For example, there are the regular burglars, who completely carry out

the description of the Scriptures, “breaking through the wall and

stealing.” Two of these burglars work together. One acts as sentinel,

while the other gently bores a hole through the wall, large enough to

admit the passage of his person. When he has completed the breach, he

pushes through it a stick, with a piece of grass wrapped round it, so

as to look like a human head. This is done to ascertain whether the

inmates are alarmed, for it sometimes happens that the owner of the

house hears the miner at work, and quietly stands by the side of the

hole, armed with a sword or cudgel, with which he strikes at the head

of the robber, as soon as it appears through the wall. Should the sham

head be smashed by a blow from the inside, the thieves escape as fast

as they can. If not, one of them crawls through the breach, steals all

the property on which he can lay his hands, and returns to his comrade,

who has been keeping careful watch, and will alarm him, should danger

appear.

Other thieves appear to be more harmless, though they probably steal

as much money as the burglars. They carry in their mouths a tiny

knife, with a blade as sharp as that of a razor. They frequent the

bazaars, mix with the crowd, and contrive to feel for the money which

is wrapped up in the girdle. With their little knives, they gently cut

the cloth, noiselessly extract the money, and slink off into the midst

of the crowd, where they can scarcely be detected. In short, they act

precisely after the manner of our European cut-purses.

The most ingenious of all the thieves are those who get into the

zenanas, or women’s apartments, and steal their jewelry. As the

reader is probably aware, the women’s apartments are in the most

central portion of the house, and are so carefully guarded that little

precaution is taken with respect to the costly jewels with which the

women deck themselves so abundantly. The Indian burglar knows of this

wealth, and sometimes manages to steal it. He digs a hole in the ground

outside the walls of the house, and burrows under the foundation until

he comes beneath the floor of the zenana. He then cautiously works

his way upward, and so obtains admission into the apartment. But

even when there his task is not completed, as a large portion of the

jewelry consists of nose rings and bangles, or bracelets. The skill of

these thieves is now shown, for they will contrive to cut the rings

and bangles, remove them from the wearers, and make good their escape

without disturbing the sleeping women.

These adroit burglars often commit the most daring robberies in the

very midst of an army. Knowing the position of the tents, they mark

out that which is the residence of a great man, and creep silently

toward it. Arrived at the tent, their sharp knife cuts a hole and they

glide into the interior without making the slightest noise. Indeed,

so wonderfully adroit are they, that even the very watch-dogs do not

discover them, and a thief has been known actually to step over the

body of a dog without disturbing the animal. They take an extraordinary

pride in their skill, and have not the least objection to boasting of

it. Once, an English officer, who had been robbed of all his valuables,

his clothing included, in the course of a night, was talking to a

robber, who made very light of the exploit, and boasted that if he

chose he could steal the blanket from under him as he slept. Such a

challenge as this could not but be accepted, and the officer laid

a wager with the man that his blanket could not be stolen without

arousing him.

Accordingly, one morning, when the officer awoke, he found his blanket

missing. The thief came openly with the blanket, restored it, and told

him how he had achieved the theft. It was done by gently tickling the

face and hands of the sleeping man, so that he involuntarily turned on

his bed. As he moved, the thief gave the blanket a slight pull, and so

by degrees “coaxed” it away without fairly awaking the sleeper.

When these thieves set about their task of robbery, they remove all

their clothes, and rub themselves with oil. Round their neck is a

slight string, which holds their razor-bladed knife, so that, if they

should be detected, the pursuer has no hold of them; and even should he

succeed in grasping them, the ready knife is used to sever his wrist

and to deal a fatal stab.

Then there are other thieves of altogether a sneaking and despicable

character. The burglars have, at all events, the redeeming points of

audacity and ingenuity. The Mooches exhibit neither of these qualities,

but act in a way that exactly resembles the proceedings of the gipsy

thieves as described by Mr. Borrow. They lay poison on plantain leaves,

and drop them about at night among the cattle. The bait is sure to

be taken, and the dead cattle are thrown away next morning. This is

exactly what the Mooches have expected, and they flay the dead cattle

and sell their skins.

Sometimes a band of these thieves is pursued, and then the robbers are

often driven to use all their ingenuity in evading their pursuers.

One stratagem is marvellously clever. Should a company of these men

succeed in reaching the jungle, there is no hope of capturing them;

but when they find that they must be overtaken on a level plain, they

are not without a mode of avoiding detection. As is the case in many

hot countries, the ground is often cleared by fire, which destroys

all the coarse, dry, rank herbage, and leaves it free for the fresh

green blades that at the first rains shoot through the surface. In

those spots where the grass is short, the fire does but little damage;

but where it is long, the flames are powerful enough to destroy the

small trees which grow upon them, and to leave nothing but a number of

blackened stumps.

If the thieves think that they cannot pass the plain without being

observed, they put in practice a _ruse_ which they may have borrowed

from the habits of many insects. They strip off all their clothes,

place them and their weapons under their little round shields, which

they disperse so as to look like stones, and then dispose themselves

in such strange attitudes that their slender and nearly fleshless limbs

bear the most exact resemblance to the blackened branches of which

their bodies represent the trunks. In these attitudes they will remain

fixed until the enemy has passed them, when they slip off as fast as

they can to the nearest jungle. An illustration on page 1397 shows

with what rare ingenuity, even artistic verisimilitude these rascals

simulate the charred trunks and branches of the trees.

Before the English had become used to these manœuvres, a very ludicrous

incident occurred. An officer, with a party of horse, was chasing a

small body of Bheel robbers, and was fast overtaking them. Suddenly

the robbers ran behind a rock or some such obstacle, which hid them

for a moment, and, when the soldiers came up, the men had mysteriously

disappeared. After an unavailing search, the officer ordered his men to

dismount beside a clump of scorched and withered trees, and, the day

being very hot, he took off his helmet and hung it on a branch by which

he was standing. The branch in question turned out to be the leg of a

Bheel, who burst into a scream of laughter, and flung the astonished

officer to the ground. The clump of scorched trees suddenly became

metamorphosed into men, and the whole party dispersed in different

directions before the soldiers could recover from their surprise,

carrying with them the officer’s helmet by way of a trophy.

This stratagem is not confined to one tribe, or even one race, but is

practised in many parts of the world where the country is cleared by

means of fire.

* * * * *

We will now examine some of the weapons used by the Indians. I

intentionally omit any description of their fire-arms, as such weapons

are of a modern date, and the use of gunpowder has been imported from

other countries. In the following pages will be described some of the

most characteristic weapons of India.

The reader will probably notice that whatever may be their form, there

is a nameless something which designates the country in which they were

produced. No matter whether the weapon has belonged to a rich or a poor

man, whether it be plain wood and iron, or studded with jewels and

inlaid with gold, the form remains the same, and there is about that

form a graceful elegance which is peculiar to India. Take, for example,

that simplest of weapons, the kookery, and see how beautiful are the

curves of the blade and handle, and how completely they satisfy the

eye. In the same manner we shall find that, with all the weapons that

will be figured, there is always a graceful curve or a well-balanced

arrangement of lines.

We will begin with the bow and arrows.

Many kinds of bows are used by the Hindoos, the most simple of which

is made from a piece of male bamboo. Even this simple weapon is

not complete in the eyes of an Indian without some ornament, and

accordingly it is bound at intervals by belts of split reed drawn

tightly round it, and tied up at the back of the bow in a sort of

rosette form. This kind of bow is often used for shooting bullets or

stones. For this purpose two strings are placed side by side, and kept

apart by a little piece of wood near one end, so that in the middle

there is an interval of a couple of inches between the strings. A strip

of leather rather more than an inch in width is then sewed to the

strings, so that when the bow is bent the leather is stretched tightly

between them.

The bow is used in the following manner. A bullet or stone is placed

on the leather, and the two strings are grasped by the forefinger and

thumb of the right hand, so as to enclose the bullet in the leather.

The bow is then drawn and aimed, and when the strings are released

from the pressure of the fingers, they fly asunder and permit the

bullet to escape. The precision that may be obtained by this weapon is

really wonderful, and even Europeans soon learn to pride themselves

on their skill with the “pellet-bow.” Squirrel shooting with this bow

is a favorite amusement with many persons, and some of the natives of

rank occasionally amuse themselves with shooting at the earthenware

jars carried on the heads of the women, a successful shot smashing the

jar to pieces, and deluging the women with the water which had been

contained in it.

There is another kind of bow which is much used in different parts of

Asia, varying somewhat in form and material, but smaller in principle.

The bow is so formed that when it is unstrung it curves in exactly

the opposite direction to the string. The amount of curvature varies

considerably in different bows, the most perfect being that in which

the two ends almost touch each other. The specimen which is shown in

Fig. 1 of the illustration on page 1394, and which is drawn from a

bow in my collection, is a singularly perfect example of this kind of

weapon. It is made in the following manner:--

A horn of the buffalo is sawn longitudinally, so as to produce two

tapering pieces of exactly the same size. These are then flattened by

heat and pressure, and are trimmed until when bent they give exactly

the same amount of curvature. The handle and the tips are made of very

hard wood, and are fitted to the horn with the greatest care, the wood

which forms the tips running for some distance along the under side

of the horn. After the handle and tips are fitted in their places,

a great number of sinews are laid wet over the back of the bow, and

kneaded so carefully that the wood, the sinews, and the horn seem to

be altogether one substance. After this part of the work is finished,

the whole of the bow is covered with repeated layers of a kind of glue,

which is very carefully smoothed and polished. The bow is practically

complete, but the maker is not satisfied unless he adds plenty of

ornament. This is always a sort of conventional flower pattern, gilt

on a brilliantly colored background. I possess several such bows, in

each of which there is a dissimilarity of color and pattern. In the bow

now before us, the groundwork is vivid green and scarlet, on which are

drawn the most elaborate patterns of flowers, leaves, and arabesques in

gold. It is impossible, on looking at the surface, not to admire both

the beauty of the patterns and the excellence of the paint and varnish,

which can be subjected to such violent treatment as is caused by the

bending of the bow and shooting the arrow, and yet not be cracked to

pieces.

The elasticity of this bow is wonderful. I have often tried to string

it, but without effect, and indeed I never saw but one man, the late

Colonel Hutchinson, of the Indian Army, who could do so. It is strung

by passing it under one leg, bending it back sharply over the other

leg, at the same time slipping the loop of the string into its notch.

A groove passes along the back of the bow, so as to guide the string.

When strung it assumes quite a different shape, and looks something

like the bow which the ancient sculptors placed in the hands of

Cupid. I regret that the bow could not be strung, so as to give two

illustrations of the same bow in its different aspects.

The classical reader may perhaps remember that this weapon is exactly

similar to the ancient Scythian bow. Reference is made to this shape by

Athenæus (book X.) when an unlearned shepherd, trying to describe the

letters which formed a name, said that “the third (_i. e._ c) was like

a Scythian bow.” This kind of bow was of horn, as indeed were most of

the ancient bows.

The length of the bow above mentioned, measured along the back, is a

little more than four feet, whereas the measurement across it as it

appears when unbent is only nineteen inches. The reader will see how

useful a bow of this description would be to a horseman, its peculiar

curvature rendering it easy of carriage. It could even be carried

along on the bridle arm, if required, so as to leave the sword hand at

liberty, and in a moment could be strung when needed, by passing it

under the leg as the rider sits on horseback. Small as this bow seems,

almost indeed insignificant in appearance as a weapon, its performances

in skilful hands are something marvellous. With one of these bows an

arrow has been shot to a distance which was said to be six hundred

yards, and was actually not much short of that measurement. And,

although so powerful, it is wonderfully manageable. Colonel Hutchinson

told me that he once saw an archer shoot an arrow along a corridor, and

send the missile through a hole which a bullet had made in a pane of

glass at the end of the corridor.

Next comes a form of bow which is much more common than the preceding.

In this bow the reflex curvature is strongly marked, though not so

strongly as in the case of the weapon just described.

Several of these bows are in my collection, the handsomest of which was

presented to me by J. Allen, Esq. This bow, with its case, its quiver,

and score of arrows, is shown in Fig. 2 of the illustration, on page

1394. Measuring along the back, the bow is four feet five inches in

length, whereas the space between the two tips is only twenty-eight

inches. The color with which the bow is painted is bright scarlet,

profusely covered with gilt flowers and arabesques, so that it is a

more showy weapon at a distance than the previous specimen, though it

is not nearly so handsome when closely examined, the patterns being

larger and more roughly executed. The bow-string is made of some

vegetable fibre,--I think that of some species of aloe,--and is very

thick, being composed of nine strands twisted very closely together.

The case, quiver, and straps by which they are held have been once very

splendid, being crimson velvet, so covered with gold embroidery that

scarcely any part of the velvet is visible. The arrows are two feet

three inches in length, and are very carefully made. The shaft is of

reed, and to either end is fixed a piece of hard wood four inches in

length. On one end of the shaft is fixed the point, which is a heavy

and solid quadrangular piece of steel brought to a sharp point. The

hard wood at the end receives the feathers, and is enlarged at the

extreme end, so as to allow space for the nock or notch in which the

thick bow-string is received. Both the pieces of hard wood are colored,

that in which the point is fixed being simply green, but that at the

other end being gilt, and covered with patterns in blue and scarlet.

This is the most common kind of arrow, but there are many varieties, of

which I possess specimens. Several varieties are in many collections,

the chief distinction being in the shape of the point. In most of them

it is more or less quadrangular; though in some it is leaf-shaped, like

a spear head, in others it is conical, and in others round and blunt.

In one of the arrows the place of the lower piece of hard wood is taken

by a solid piece of steel nearly four inches in length, and weighing

about three ounces, looking something like a rather elongated Whitworth

bullet.

The most primitive form of Indian arrow is that which is made by the

hill tribes. The shaft is of wood, not of reed, and the head is deeply

barbed, and tied to the shaft with fibre, exactly as is done with the

flint-headed arrows, which this weapon almost precisely resembles in

form, though not in material. Instead of feathers, dry leaves are

substituted, cut into the required shape, and passed through slits in

the shaft of the arrow, these slits being afterward bound up. In one

arrow the nock has been formed in a very strange manner, a piece of

wood being lashed to each side of the shaft, and projecting a little

beyond it.

Some very beautiful examples of the best kinds of weapons are shown in

the illustration on page 1406. They belong to General Sir Hope Grant,

G.C.B. etc., who kindly allowed them to be drawn for the use of this

work. They are splendid instances of Indian art, one or two of them

displaying a most elaborate ornamentation.

The first of the illustrations shows a suit of armor and weapons, which

is made of steel most elaborately engraved and inlaid with gold, the

patterns resembling those on the bow, and looking much as if they had

been taken from the bow and sunk into the steel, the freedom and grace

of the lines being quite as remarkable as the elaborate minuteness of

the pattern.

In the centre (Fig. 1) is seen the martial looking helmet, with its

slight feather plume. There are often several of these plumes in a

helmet, their shafts being adorned with gold and jewels, and placed

in sockets projecting from the helmet. In front is seen the flat bar

which protects the nose and upper part of the face from a sword cut.

This bar slides up and down through a groove for the convenience of the

wearer. From the helmet depends a piece of very slight but very strong

chain-mail, which falls behind and on either side of the face, and

hangs as low as the shoulders, so that, however abruptly the wearer may

move his head, the folds of the chain-mail protect his neck. In several

of these helmets the links of the mail are gilt, and arranged so as to

form patterns, mostly of a diamond shape.

By the side of the helmet (Fig. 3) is the curious gauntlet, which

extends far up the arm, and has no joint at the wrist. The absence of

the joint, unpleasant as it would be to an European swordsman, is no

obstacle to the proper use of the sword by the Oriental warrior. If

the reader will refer to the figure of the sword (Fig. 6), he will see

that the hilt is terminated by a large circular plate of steel. In a

specimen in my own collection, this plate is three inches in diameter,

so that when the sword is grasped after the European fashion, the plate

comes against the wrist, and acts as a fulcrum by which, when a blow is

struck, the leverage of the blade forces the sword out of the grasp.

[Illustration: (1.) NECKLACE. (See page 1399.)]

[Illustration: (2.) KOOKERY. (See page 1395.)]

[Illustration: (3.) THE CHAKRA, OR QUOIT WEAPON. (See page 1406.)]

[Illustration: (4.) INDIAN ARMS AND ARMOR. (See page 1405.)]

But the whole system of swordsmanship in India differs essentially

from that which is employed in England, or indeed in Europe generally,

strength not being used so much as dexterity. For the object of this

weapon its curved form is essential. The stroke of the sword is done by

a turn of the wrist more than by a direct blow, so that the curved edge

of the weapon is drawn rapidly over the object of attack.

The mode of employing the Indian sword was illustrated to me by the

same Colonel Hutchinson whose name has already been mentioned.

He took a large mangold-wurzel, and laid it on a table. He then placed

the flat side of the sword upon the root, so that no blow could be

dealt, and then, with a slight turn of the wrist, he drew the blade

toward him, and the root fell apart, severed in two pieces. In the

same manner he cut the whole of the root into slices. The feat looked

so easy that I tried it on another root, but, instead of cutting it

in two, the edge of the sword glided off it as if it had been a solid

piece of glass, and jarred my arm to the shoulder. However, after a few

lessons, the feat became tolerably easy.

The same effect can also be produced by pushing the blade from the

swordsman instead of drawing it toward him. It is to this delicate,

drawing cut that the Indian sword owes its efficiency, the steel of

the blade not being nearly of so good a quality as that of our common

dragoon swords, and not being capable of taking so fine an edge. But

if in battle an Indian warrior meets or overtakes an enemy, he does

not strike at him with the whole power of the arm, as is done by our

swordsmen, but places the edge of his weapon against the neck of the

enemy, and with a turn of his wrist nearly severs the head from the

body.

In the same illustration is seen the circular shield or target. This

is of no great size, measuring about eighteen inches in diameter, and

sometimes even less. It is made of the hide of the rhinoceros, which,

when properly dressed and dried, is of considerable thickness, as

hard as horn, though not so brittle, and almost equally translucent.

The shield is generally adorned with four circular plates of metal,

which in an ordinary specimen are merely of iron, but in a peculiarly

handsome one are covered with lacquered gilding. The reader will

doubtless see the almost exact resemblance between the Indian shield

and the target of the Scotch Highlander. The other portions of the

armor are adorned with gold inlaying, like those parts which have been

described.

Illustration No. 4, on page 1403, contains several articles used in

warfare, all of which are drawn from specimens in Sir Hope Grant’s

collection. In the centre is seen a coat of mail. This is one of the

most beautiful pieces of armor I have ever seen, each of the links

bearing upon it a sentence from the Koran. Three of the links are

shown underneath the coat of mail, drawn of the size of the originals.

If the reader will reflect upon the vast number of such links which are

required to form a coat of mail, he will appreciate the amount of labor

that must have been expended on it, the letters having to be formed

after the links are put together, so that they may not be obliterated

in the forging. The helmet belonging to this suit is seen by its side

at Fig. 2.

Between the helmet and the coat of mail is a Coorg knife or dagger,

and its sheath. This weapon is sometimes very plain, and sometimes

blazes with gold and jewels on the hilt and sheath. A specimen in my

collection is of the former kind, and, though the blade is of good

quality, the handle is of wood, and is secured to the blade by a stout

brass rivet which passes through the tang. A bold ridge runs along

either side of the blade.

Two more characteristic forms of the Indian dagger are shown at Figs.

7 and 9 in the illustration. One, Fig. 7, with its sheath at Fig. 8,

is in great favor, especially with the rich. It is made entirely of

steel, the two cross-bars constituting the handle. The form of the

blade varies somewhat in different specimens, but the general form is

the same in all. A good specimen in my collection is altogether twenty

inches in length, and weighs exactly a pound, so that it must be rather

an awkward weapon for the girdle. The blade, if it can be so called, is

nearly a foot in length, flat toward the handle, and within five inches

of the tips welling suddenly into a sort of quadrangular bayonet,

rather more than half an inch in thickness.

The reader will see that when this dagger is grasped, the steel

continuations of the handle project on either side of the wrist, and

effectually guard it and the lower part of the arm from a sword-blade.

The weight of this instrument, as well as the force with which a thrust

can be delivered by a straight blow as in boxing, render the weapon

well calculated to drive its way through the folds of dress, or even

between the joints of armor.

Next comes a weapon (Fig. 9) which would scarcely be recognized as a

dagger. It is, however a dagger, made from the two horns of the Indian

antelope. In the simplest form of this curious weapon, the horns are

arranged with their bases crossing each other for about six inches. The

curvature of the bases thus furnishes a sort of handle, which can be

grasped in such a way that the holder of the weapon can strike right

and left with it, and, among a number of people, could do a vast amount

of damage in a very short time.

A dagger such as has been described could be made in half an hour, and,

indeed, a temporary weapon might be made in a few minutes by lashing

the horns together. But the Indians prefer to add ornament to the

weapon, and so they often make a hollow steel hilt in the form of a

cup, with the curved side outward. The hand passes into this cup as

into the basket-hilt of a single-stick, and is effectually guarded from

injury. The dagger shown in the illustration has one of these steel

hilts. In some places this weapon is in such favor that, instead of

making it of antelope horns, with a steel hilt, the entire dagger is of

steel, the points made in imitation of the horns.

The last weapon (Fig. 10) is one which is used by the Afghans, and is a

sort of compromise between a sword and a dagger. A weapon of a similar

form and character is carried by the Moors.

There is one kind of sword which ought not to be passed without some

notice. It is a most murderous looking weapon, and is made on precisely

the opposite principle to that of the sword which has already been

described. In that form of sword, the edge is on the outer curve of the

blade, which narrows toward the point. In the other sword, the edge is

on the inside curve, and the blade widens greatly at the tip, which

is curved like a bill-hook. Indeed, the weapon bears some resemblance

to a bill-hook with a greatly elongated blade. In a specimen in my

collection the blade is very little more than an inch wide by the hilt,

but at the point (or rather the tip, for this part of the blade is

squared) it is just four inches in width. The weight of this sword is

rather more than two pounds.

There is also the quoit, or chakra, a missile weapon, that bears some

resemblance to the boomerang of Australia or the casting-knife of the

Fan tribe, it being intended to cut and not to pierce, as is generally

the case with missiles. It is made of thin steel, and is sharpened to a

razor-like edge on the outside. The mode of casting it is to spin it on

the forefinger and then to hurl it. The reader may imagine that such a

missile, which not only strikes an object, but revolves rapidly at the

time, must be a very formidable one. It is generally aimed at the face

of the adversary, and a skilful warrior will hurl four or five in such

rapid succession that it is scarcely possible to avoid being struck

by one of them, and having the face laid open, or the nose or lip

absolutely cut off. These quoit-like articles are carried upon a tall,

conical head-dress worn by the natives, into the folds of which they

also put several small knives, as Irish laborers stick their pipes in

their hats. See illustration No. 3, on page 1403.

A similar weapon, made of brass instead of steel, is used by the

cattle-poisoning Mooches, who have already been described. They call it

by the name of “thâl.”

The chakra is the special weapon of Vishnu, and may be seen in the

various representations of that deity, hanging in one of the hands.

Reference is made to this by Southey in the “Curse of Kehama.” Other

deities also hold the chakra in the many-armed images by which the

Indian artists clumsily attempt to depict omnipotence. This takes us to

another branch of the subject.

[Illustration: SUIT OF ARMOR INLAID WITH GOLD. (See page 1402.)]

CHAPTER CL.

INDIA--_Continued_.

SACRIFICIAL RELIGION.

PRINCIPLE OF HUMAN SACRIFICE -- THE SUTTEE, OR WIDOW BURNING -- HER

FATE DESIRED BY HERSELF AND HER NEAREST RELATIVES -- REASONS FOR THE

SACRIFICE -- CONTRAST BETWEEN THE LIFE OF A WIFE AND A WIDOW OF HIGH

CASTE -- SOCIAL STATUS OF THE BRAHMINS -- HONOR IN WHICH THE SUTTEE

IS HELD -- MODE OF CONDUCTING THE SACRIFICE -- STRUCTURE OF THE PILE

-- COURAGEOUS CONDUCT OF THE VICTIM -- ATTEMPTED ESCAPE OF A SUTTEE

-- BERNIER’S DESCRIPTION -- GRADUAL ABOLITION OF THE SUTTEE -- THE

GODDESS KALI AND HER WORSHIPPERS -- THE THUGS AND THEIR CONSTITUTION

-- THE SACRED “ROOMAL” OR NOOSE -- MODE OF OFFERING A VICTIM -- THE

FESTIVAL OF JUGGERNAUT -- HARDSHIPS OF THE PILGRIMS -- FORM OF THE

IDOL -- SELF-SACRIFICE IN THE GANGES -- SACRIFICE OF BEASTS -- THE

GODDESS DOORGA OR KALI -- FAKIRS OR JOGIS -- THEIR VARIOUS MODES OF

SELF-TORTURE -- THE SWINGING FESTIVAL -- THE MOTIONLESS FAKIR.

There is no part of the world, not even Africa itself, where the

principle of human sacrifice is so widely spread, and is developed so

variously, as in India. Several forms of human sacrifice, such as the

Meriah, which has already been described, belong to definite districts,

and even in them are carried out with certain limitations. Some forms

of the same principle, such as the murders by Thugs or Phânsigars in

their worship of the dread goddess Kali, are restricted to certain

societies of men. Again, the victims annually crushed under the wheels

of Juggernaut’s car are comparatively few, and can only be sacrified in

a certain locality, and at certain times.

There is, however, one mode of human sacrifice which at no distant

period prevailed over the whole of India, and has only been checked by

the influence of England in those parts of the country which have been

subject to British dominion. Even in those districts the task has been

a very difficult one, and there is no doubt that if the strong hand of

England were ever lifted, the practice would again prevail as it did

before.

This form of human sacrifice is the dreadful Suttee, or the death of

the widow on the funeral pyre of her dead husband. Both in Africa and

Polynesia we have seen several instances where the widow is sacrificed

on the grave of her husband, so that he may not find himself wifeless

when he reaches the spirit land. But it is remarkable that even among

the lowest of the savages, whose indifference to inflicting pain

is well known, there are none who exercise such horrible cruelty

toward the widow as do the highly civilized Hindoos. On referring to

the former portions of this work, the reader will see that in some

places the widows are strangled and laid in the grave, in others they

are buried alive, and in others they are killed by a blow of a club

(perhaps the most merciful death that can be inflicted), but that in no

instance is the surviving wife burned alive, as is the case with the

Hindoo.

At the first glance, it seems strange that not only should the

relatives of the miserable wife desire her to be burned, but that she

herself should wish it, and should adhere to her determination in spite

of every opportunity of escaping so dreadful a death. Yet the calm,

dispassionate cruelty of the Hindoo nature is shown by the fact that,

painful as is a death by burning, the life of a widow who survives her

husband is made so miserable that the short though sharp agony of the

funeral pyre is infinitely preferable to life. She loses all caste, and

a Brahmin widow who refuses to be burned is loathed and despised even

by the very Pariahs, whose shadow would have been a contamination to

her during the lifetime of her husband. The horror of such a life can

scarcely be conceived by an European, even supposing a delicate girl,

bred in the midst of all luxury and refinement, to be suddenly cast

among the most debased of savages without possibility of rescue, and to

be made an object of scorn and contempt even to them.

To realize the depths of utter degradation which a high-caste widow

incurs, we must first see what is her opinion of her own status. The

reader is doubtless aware that the Hindoos are divided into a number of

distinct castes, the peculiarity of which is, that no one can ascend

to a superior caste, though he may fall into a lower. Now, of all the

castes, the Brahmins are immeasurably the highest, and the reverence

which is paid to them by their countrymen is almost incredible. Wealth

or secular rank have nothing to do with this reverential feeling.

A Hindoo of inferior caste may be, and often is, a man of almost

unbounded wealth, may possess almost unbounded power, and, in his own

way, unbounded pride. But the very poorest of Brahmins is infinitely

his superior, and should he meet one of these exalted beings, he bows

before him, and pays divine honors to him. And, according to his

belief, he is right in so doing, the Brahmin being an incarnation of

Deity, sprung from the mouth of Vishnu, the Saviour God himself. He

may be mounted on a magnificent elephant, covered with glittering

trappings, he may be clothed in gorgeous robes and sparkle with costly

gems, but before a Brahmin, with a single cloth round his waist, and

bearing the solitary sign of his caste,--the slight cord hung over

one shoulder and under the other,--he is an abject slave. Even if, as

sometimes happens, he should employ a Brahmin as his cook, that Brahmin

retains his rank, and receives the worship of the man by whom he is

paid.

According to their sacred books, “when a Brahmin springs to light, he

is born above the world; the chief of all creatures; assigned to guard

the treasury of duties, religious and civil.” According to the same

books, the very existence of mankind, and even of the world itself,

depends upon the forbearance of the Brahmins whose power even exceeds

that of the gods themselves. Should there be one who cannot be slain

by the great god Indra, by Kali, the goddess of destruction, or even

by Vishnu himself, he would be destroyed if a Brahmin were to curse

him, as if he were consumed by fire. In the same spirit, princes were

warned not to take the property of the Brahmins, however much in want

of money, for that if these holy men were once enraged, they could by a

word destroy them, their armies, elephants, and horses.

By them, under Brahma, were originally made the earth, the sun, the

moon, and the fire, and by them they could be destroyed. “What prince

could gain wealth by oppressing those who, if angry, could frame other

worlds, and legions of worlds, _could give being to new gods_ and

mortals?” Just as these tremendous privileges are independent of the

external circumstances of wealth and rank, so are they independent of

individual character. The pure soul of a Brahmin is beyond all moral

elevation, and above all moral pollution. He may be a man of the

purest life and loftiest morality, but he is none the better Brahmin

for that; he may be one of the vilest of debauchees, and be none the

worse Brahmin for that, provided he does not commit any act which would

forfeit his caste,--such, for example, as killing a cow, or eating food

that had been cooked by an inferior.