Having lived many years (30) on the Nilgiris, employing the various
tribes of the Hills on my estates, and speaking their languages, I have
had many opportunities of observing their manners and customs and the
frequent practice of Demonology and Witchcraft among them. On the
slopes of the Nilgiris live several semi-wild people: 1st, the
"Curumbers," who frequently hire themselves out to neighbouring estates,
and are first-rate fellers of forest; 2nd, the "Tain" ("Honey
Curumbers"), who collect and live largely on honey and roots, and who do
not come into civilized parts; 3rd, the "Mulu" Curumbers, who are rare
on the slopes of the hills, but common in Wynaad lower down the plateau.
These use bows and arrows, are fond of hunting, and have frequently been
known to kill tigers, rushing in a body on their game and discharging
their arrows at a short distance. In their eagerness they frequently
fall victims to this animal; but they are supposed to possess a
controlling power over all wild animals, especially elephants and
tigers; and the natives declare they have the power of assuming the
forms of various beasts. Their aid is constantly invoked both by the
Curumbers first named, and by the natives generally, when wishing to be
revenged on an enemy.
Besides these varieties of Curumbers there are various other wild tribes
I do not now mention, as they are not concerned in what I have to
relate.
I had on my estate near Ootacamund a gang of young Badagas, some 30
young men, whom I had had in my service since they were children, and
who had become most useful handy fellows. From week to week I missed
one or another of them, and on inquiry was told they had been sick and
were dead!
One market-day I met the Moneghar of the village to which my gang
belonged and some of his men, returning home laden with their purchases.
The moment he saw me he stopped, and coming up to me, said, "Mother, I
am in great sorrow and trouble, tell me what I can do!" "Why, what is
wrong?" I asked. "All my young men are dying, and I cannot help them,
nor prevent it; they are under a spell of the wicked Curumbers who are
killing them, and I am powerless." "Pray explain," I said; "why do the
Curumbers behave in this way, and what do they do to your people?" "Oh,
Madam, they are vile extortioners, always asking for money; we have
given and given till we have no more to give. I told them we had no
more money and then they said,--All right--as you please; we shall see.
Surely as they say this, we know what will follow--at night when we are
all asleep, we wake up suddenly and see a Curumber standing in our
midst, in the middle of the room occupied by the young men." "Why do
you not close and bolt your doors securely?" I interrupted. "What is
the use of bolts and bars to them? they come through stone walls.... Our
doors were secure, but nothing can keep out a Curumber. He points his
finger at Mada, at Kurira, at Jogie--he utters no word, and as we look
at him he vanishes! In a few days these three young men sicken, a low
fever consumes them, their stomachs swell, they die. Eighteen young
men, the flower of my village, have died thus this year. These effects
always follow the visit of a Curumber at night." "Why not complain to
the Government?" I said. "Ah, no use, who will catch them?" "Then give
them the 200 rupees they ask this once on a solemn promise that they
exact no more" "I suppose we must find the money somewhere," he said,
turning sorrowfully away.
A Mr. K---is the owner of a coffee estate near this, and like many
other planters employs Burghers. On one occasion he went down the
slopes of the hills after bison and other large game, taking some seven
or eight Burghers with him as gun carriers (besides other things
necessary in jungle-walking--axes to clear the way, knives and ropes,
&c.). He found and severely wounded a fine elephant with tusks.
Wishing to secure these, he proposed following up his quarry, but could
not induce his Burghers to go deeper and further into the forests; they
feared to meet the "Mula Curumbers" who lived thereabouts. For long he
argued in vain, at last by dint of threats and promises he induced them
to proceed, and as they met no one, their fears were allayed and they
grew bolder, when suddenly coming on the elephant lying dead (oh, horror
to them!), the beast was surrounded by a party of Mulu Curumbers busily
engaged in cutting out the tusks, one of which they had already
disengaged! The affrighted Burghers fell back, and nothing Mr. K---
could do or say would induce them to approach the elephant, which the
Curumbers stoutly declared was theirs. They had killed him they said.
They had very likely met him staggering under his wound and had finished
him off. Mr. K---was not likely to give up his game in this fashion.
So walking threateningly to the Curumbers he compelled them to retire,
and called to his Burghers at the same time. The Curumbers only said,
"Just you DARE to touch that elephant," and retired. Mr. K---thereupon
cut out the remaining tusk himself, and slinging both on a pole with no
little trouble, made his men carry them. He took all the blame on
himself, showed them that they did not touch them, and finally declared
he would stay there all night rather than lose the tusks. The idea of a
night near the Mulu Curumbers was too much for the fears of the
Burghers, and they finally took up the pole and tusks and walked home.
From that day those men, all but one who probably carried the gun,
sickened, walked about like spectres, doomed, pale and ghastly, and
before the month was out all were dead men, with the one exception!
A few months ago, at the village of Ebanaud, a few miles from this, a
fearful tragedy was enacted. The Moneghar or headman's child was sick
unto death. This, following on several recent deaths, was attributed to
the evil influences of a village of Curumbers hard by. The Burghers
determined on the destruction of every soul of them. They procured the
assistance of a Toda, as they invariably do on such occasions, as
without one the Curumbers are supposed to be invulnerable. They
proceeded to the Curumber village at night and set their huts on fire,
and as the miserable inmates attempted to escape, flung them back into
the flames or knocked them down with clubs. In the confusion one old
woman escaped unobserved into the adjacent bushes. Next morning she
gave notice to the authorities, and identified seven Burghers, among
whom was the Moneghar or headman, and one Toda. As the murderers of her
people they were all brought to trial in the Courts here,--except the
headman, who died before he could be brought in--and were all sentenced
and duly executed, that is, three Burghers and the Toda, who were proved
principals in the murders.
Two years ago an almost identical occurrence took place at Kotaghery,
with exactly similar results, but without the punishment entailed having
any deterrent effect. They pleaded "justification," as witchcraft had
been practiced on them. But our Government ignores all occult dealings
and will not believe in the dread power in the land. They deal very
differently with these matters in Russia, where, in a recent trial of a
similar nature, the witchcraft was admitted as an extenuating
circumstance and the culprits who had burnt a witch were all acquitted.
All natives of whatever caste are well aware of these terrible powers
and too often do they avail themselves of them--much oftener than any
one has an idea of. One day as I was riding along I came upon a strange
and ghastly object--a basket containing the bloody head of a black
sheep, a cocoanut, 10 rupees in money, some rice and flowers. These
smaller items I did not see, not caring to examine any closer; but I
was told by some natives that those articles were to be found in the
basket. The basket was placed at the apex of a triangle formed by three
fine threads tied to three small sticks, so placed that any one
approaching from the roads on either side had to stumble over the
threads and receive the full effects of the deadly "Soonium" as the
natives call it. On inquiry I learnt that it was usual to prepare such
a "Soonium" when one lay sick unto death; as throwing it on another was
the only means of rescuing the sick one, and woe to the unfortunate who
broke a thread by stumbling over it!
--E.H. Morgan