The beliefs and superstitions of the Sakais--Metempsychosis--The
Evil Spirit--Superstition among savages and ignorance among
civilized people--The two sources of life--The wind --The ALÀ
priest and physician--The scientific vigil--Venerable imposture!--
TENAC and CINTOK[16]--Therapeutic torture--Contagion--A Sakai's
death--The deserted village--Mourning--Births--Fire--Intellectual
darkness--The Sakais and Islamism.
The good notary Chirichillo, born in the fervid fancy of Ippolito Nievo
firmly believed that the many tribulations of his modest life would be
compensated one day by God, and that this recompense would be a second
birth, when he would relive in another person, under another name and
under a luckier star.
Although less learned and although they have but a vague intuition of
the idea relating to the soul immortality, the Sakais do not refuse the
theory of reward or punishment hereafter. According to them the spirit
freed from the body wanders about in the air and often, in a transitory
way, retakes a corporal form in the shape of certain animals (more
especially the tiger, for which reason the terrible beast is respected
as almost sacred by them) or it takes refuge in certain herbs which thus
acquist healing properties.
In no case will a Sakai willingly kill, wound or lay a trap for the
animals he thinks consecrated by the indwelling of a spirit, this is so
true that even whilst preparing one of the usual traps for catching big
game he will turn himself towards the thickest part of the forest and
murmur, «this is not for thee» to warn the tiger to be on his guard. And
should one happen to be caught it causes real grief to the Sakai who you
may be sure would give it back its liberty at once if he had not found
it dead or did not fear to be killed himself as soon as it was free. The
Sakai does not believe in the natural death of a person but attributes
the decease to the spell of the Evil Spirit who is continually on the
watch to play his wicked tricks. So ready is he to do harm that he even
slips into the little holes made in their darts thus carrying death
where they strike, otherwise the poison would not have the force to
kill.
This is the superstition that inspires every sort of terror in the
inhabitants of the jungle and which renders it so difficult to approach
them and so dangerous to disturb the serenity of their simple minds. The
wind, the thunder-storms, the violent hurricanes that frequently invade
the forest, bringing destruction and fear in their course are the
vehicles used by this Evil Spirit to declare open warfare against the
frightened savages.
When the clouds begin to gather thick and ominously, and first with a
distant roar and then with the fury and the voice of a hurricane, the
wind sweeps fiercely on, howling and whistling over the great green sea
that is quickly strewn with wreckage; when the colossal champions of the
forest are struck by lightning and the fall of their huge branches and
gigantic trunks increase the general uproar, whilst the boom of Heaven's
artillery thunders around their huts, then the trembling Sakais throng
together. They paint themselves in a manner to scare the devil himself
(which is however their intention) and shoot out from their blow-pipes a
volley of poisoned arrows, directed against the tumultuous messengers of
the awful Being they fear; the women, keeping their children close at
their side as if to defend them, throw pieces of burning wood into the
air, and beat their big bamboo sticks till the noise is insupportable,
at the same time screaming to the wind:
«Go away and leave us alone! We have not harmed thee, so do not harm
us!».
So they implore and imprecate, turning themselves into the ugliest and
fiercest creatures they can, to frighten the evil spirits that they
believe have come against them on the outspread wings of the storm.
To the wild cries, arrow shots and loud noise of the bamboos, the
mothers add an exorcism. They burn locks of their little ones' hair and
disperse the ashes to the wind whilst the _Alà_ energetically spits.
And in civilized Italy is there not a superstition very like this of the
poor savages? I refer to the odd custom still observed in the country,
or at least in some of the villages (and which not so very long ago was
put into practice also in towns) of trying to arrest a heavy thunder
storm, by the tocsin, the deep noted ringing increasing the general
alarm amongst the timid of the place. The women too, will go to the door
and rattle together the shovel and tongs just as their Sakai sisters
beat their bamboos, and olive branches (that previously have received
the priest's benediction) are burnt with incense that the smoke may
rise up to appease the fury of the elements just as over there locks of
the children's hair are burnt for the same purpose.
These are superstitions that vary a little in form but are exactly
equivalent in the substance and show how much remains in us of primitive
ignorance and how our boasted civilization is still bound to the antique
customs and childish beliefs of the uncivilized, over whom we sing the
glory of our own triumph.
The Sakais also admit the existence of a Good Spirit but precisely
because he is good, so much so as never to reveal himself, they do not
deem it necessary to bother him. To the Good Spirit the Sakais oppose in
their mind, the Evil Spirit exercising his empire upon the souls of
their ancestors. To him they make many and different exorcisms and
supplications, with the hope not to be molested by him after death if
they keep good. Such a belief may be considered as a kind of
demonclatry.
* * * * *
To learn thoroughly the beliefs of a people still in a savage state, and
who are totally without any written guide to their faith, would be
indeed a difficult undertaking. First of all they always fear that a
stranger, particularly if white, brings with him a whole legion of bad
spirits, and secondly because they are extremely jealous of their
superstitions and are afraid of incurring evil by revealing them to
others.
It must also be considered that the Sakais (like all the other peoples
to be found on the same level of intellectual development) have ideas so
fragmentary and undetermined about religious matters that they are quite
incapable of giving an explicit description of their spiritual feelings
and convictions. It is only by living amongst them for a long time in
confidence and familiarity that one can obtain any correct knowledge,
and even then only by intent observation of facts which pass under one's
eyes, as it is useless to attempt to get an explanation or ask
questions, for the Sakais, truthful as they are by nature, would most
certainly tell you a falsehood for the reasons alluded to in another
chapter. Superstition always prevails over veracity when treating with
persons not belonging to their race.
Wilken so writes in his book _Animism_: "With all the peoples in a
primitive natural state nearly every daily event, every illness, every
misfortune, every phenomenon, when not attributed to the souls of their
dead, has a special spirit as the author. Lakes, seas, rivers, springs,
mountains, caverns, trees, bushes, villages, towns, houses, roads, air,
sky, the ground in under, in short all nature and the principal things
they see, are, in their opinion, populated by supernatural beings. I
need hardly say that not all the innumerable spirits in whom they
believe have the same importance in their minds and therefore are not
all venerated to the same extent. In the animist's cult fear reigns over
every other sentiment, such as gratitude, trust, devotion, etc., and the
spirits that inspire the most fear are those invocated with the most
fervour; in this way the bad spirits are installed in the place of the
good ones".
We see then that the Sakais form no exception to this summary
description of Mr. Wilken's.
They believe that only their sorcerers have the faculty of beholding
spirits which satisfactorily explains to them the strange fact that they
are always invisible to other eyes. For the rest, though, the Sakais,
like all those on the same par in intellectual capacity, do not trouble
their heads at all over whatever natural phenomena.
He feels deep veneration for the sun and water as being the two great
sources of Life; he venerates also the moon and the stars without
however applying any sacred rites to this sentiment but they do not care
in the least to know of what these luminaries are composed, where they
come from or where they go when they are not in sight. When the day
arrives for the Sakai to put such questions to his brain he too will
enter triumphantly into the vortex of civilization, impatient to find
out the reason of everything he sees around and above him.
From force of habit he does not wonder at the change of day into night
and the different phases of the moon but he is seized with great terror
when an eclipse of the sun or moon takes place. He weeps and despairs,
making horrible noises to put to flight the accursed spirit that is
devouring one or other of the heavenly bodies, and as soon as the
eclipse in over, he seems mad with joy that the _mahgis_ (sun) and
getcheck (moon) have got the better of their enemy.
He is equally overcome with fright at the appearance of a rainbow, or at
a shock of earthquake.
* * * * *
The Sakais have no idols of any kind, but they have great faith in the
amulets which they make themselves by incising upon their combs and
hair-pins (as before written) the form of certain plants, fruits, leaves
and roots that they are fully persuaded are possessed of prodigious
virtue.
In fact when a storm is approaching and the wind begins to agitate the
forest, before commencing their usual invocations, both men and women
hasten to stick in their hair all their combs and hairpins with the firm
conviction that the wind, blowing upon these miraculous carvings will
lose its power to do them harm.
[Illustration: Trap for big game.
_p._ 184.]
Here it must be observed that, apart from the superstitious character of
the fear the Sakais (especially those of the hills) have of the wind,
this terror may be said to be almost justified.
The impetuous currents of air coming from below often bring amongst them
the germs of various infections and in particular malarial fevers.
The poor natives in their ignorance of this, when they see their dear
ones fall ill and often die after the wind's raging believe that it has
brought into their village and left there, an invisible enemy.
* * * * *
The _Alà_, sorcerer, physician, and magician of the local superstitions
does all he can to keep unshaken the belief in spirits and exorcism. He
fulfils the functions of his two-fold office with all the ignorance and
the deception which is possible to him; ignorance, because he shares
with the others a sincere terror of the Evil Spirit, and deception
because he makes the others think that he can see the dreaded Being and
has a certain power over him by means of words and gestures.
He is, upon a close and vigorous analysis, nothing but a vulgar swindler
who obtains some sort of advantage by his artefices and succeeds in
over-ruling his own people by giving advice which is often sought and
always followed.
The _Alà_ is generally the son of an _Alà_, a circumstance that might
lead someone, who is fond of similar studies, to make accurate
researches in order to ascertain if imposture should be considered as a
hereditary disease.
When the Evil Spirit, notwithstanding the cabalistic signs and
mysterious words that proclaim the _Alà's_ prerogative in resisting and
defeating him, has overcome and killed him, the corpse is not buried but
is placed in an upright position between the roots of a tree not very
far from his late residence. For seven days continual watch is kept over
it and it is provided with food, tobacco and betel.
An old tradition, which I have managed with difficulty to piece together
from fragments unconsciously dropped now and then, pretends that _ab
antiquo_ a covenant was made between the tigers and sorcerers that after
one of the latter had been dead a week his soul should enter a feline
body.
If a son of the deceased _Alà_ wishes to succeed to his father's
dignity, he must, at the end of the seven days established, go alone to
keep watch over the corpse, taking with him a sort of incense-pan in
which he burns a great quantity of perfumed resin in honour of the dead
(an honour that is most opportune for his own nostrils!). He passes the
night in this way, or it is believed that he does, for nobody sets
himself the task of spying his actions or of learning something about
the night's proceedings fearing that evil would overtake him in
consequence.
Whilst still engaged in this sanitary act, the tiger, animated by the
soul of the defunct sorcerer, presents itself to the man who is
engrossed in his scientific vigil and feigns to spring upon him to tear
him to pieces. But he continues to keep alight the sweet-smelling resin
and does not betray his inward perturbation or give the slightest
movement of fear, which would, without emission, cost him his life. Then
the terrible scene changes; the wild beast suddenly disappears and
encircled by a soft light two beautiful fairies come forward to teach
the new _Alà_ the occult science of his chosen ministry including
cabalistic words and medical art. The two elves then become the familiar
spirits of the sorcerer who is in this manner consecrated.
No witness is allowed to be present. No profane eye may see those two
good spirits.
If it happens that the aspirant never makes his return it is immediately
decided that he showed he was afraid and had been eaten up by the not
too fatherly tiger. It would be, at least, a sure proof that he had
watched that night in the forest!
The succession of a son to his father in the office of _Alà_ is not
obligatory but all the Sakais wish it to be so as otherwise the soul of
the dead man would always remain in the body of a tiger and treasures of
wisdom and power would be lost to the tribe he had belonged to.
Not all the villages have the fortune to possess an _Alà_ of their own
who--by the way--does not differ in his domestic life from any of the
poor mortals around him. He has a wife, and children, makes poisons,
chews tobacco and _sirih_, sleeps and goes out shooting. Those
settlements that have no _Alà_ in their midst go in search of one in the
nearest encampment and the physician-priest responds quickly to the
invitation by hastening to the spot indicated.
* * * * *
There being no ritual in the Sakai ceremonies, the simple functions of
the _Alà_ are very limited.
He has to mumble in an unintelligible manner mysterious words (the
meaning of which he does not know himself) when a poisonous mixture is
being boiled in order to render its venomous virtue more efficacious. He
makes exorcisms against the evil spirits when the wind arises or a heavy
storm breaks or he is called to visit a sick person.
In the latter case duties are merged in those of the physician's for
whilst preparing some remedies with herbs possessing medicinal
properties (of which he knows very few out of the multitude that grows
in the Malai forests) he proceeds to exercise the authority reposed in
him, according to the Sakai beliefs by attempting to cast out the evil
spirit from his patient.
This act is called the _tay nak_. He first asks the sufferer where the
pain is, then making a sort of brush with some palm leaves he holds it
in left hand. The right he closes loosely and lays it on the place that
aches, puts his mouth to the opening left through the lightly closed
fingers and begins to pull in his breath as hard as he can. Sometimes he
is able in this way to draw out the demon which has caused the illness,
from the patient's body into his hand and drives it away by
energetically beating it with the brush.
The sorcerer is aware if the spirit has come out by a very pale light,
which only he can see, though!
But if the malady is a serious one this cure fails, a sure proof that
the spirit is one of the most dreaded class and must therefore be
heroically fought by means of the _chintok_, as follows.
The village in which the afflicted person lives is closed in by numerous
traps, and planted all round with poisoned arrows so that nobody can
come near, even if someone were to succeed in crossing that original
_cordon sanitaire_ without any fatal consequence he would most certainly
be killed inside it as it is feared that another evil spirit may be
imported by an outsider, in aid of the one they are trying to get rid
of.
Over the body of the infirm they form a canopy of medicinal herbs; the
_Alà_ and the company present paint themselves in the most horrible
manner possible and as soon as it is quite dark (any sort of light is
absolutely forbidden) they dispose themselves around the invalid and
begin to madly beat their big bamboo canes. Their frenzy and the noise
they make cannot be described; it makes one shudder, and the sound can
be heard several miles off.
[Illustration: Abandoned because of contagious disease.
_p._ 193.]
But it is intended to heal the poor wretch in the middle who, if he does
not succumb to the violence of his disease, has a good chance of dying
from the torture endured.
The diabolical concert lasts until the garrulous harbingers of the sun
announce the dawn but is repeated after sunset for seven days during
which period only the men are permitted to go into the forest in search
of food.
If on the seventh day the patient is still alive he is left in peace
unless a relapse should render another night of music necessary, and if
he dies it is believed that the malignant spirit would not depart
without taking the soul of his victim with him.
* * * * *
The most frequent illnesses to which the Sakais are subject are
rheumatic complaints and very heavy colds which not rarely turn into
severe bronchial and pulmonary ailments. Both are due to the cold at
night against which they take no pains at all to protect themselves.
Their huts shelter them from the rain but not from the air.
Some contagious skin diseases are also prevalent amongst them.
Directly somebody is seized with this malady a tree is selected at some
distance from the settlement up which a little bower is hurriedly made
and the person attacked is placed there and left with a little food at
hand. Next day the relatives go to see if he or she is living and call
out their demands, in a loud voice, a long way off. If there is a
movement or an answer they go nearer and throw up some food but if there
is no sign of life they hasten back and leave the corpse to decompose in
the bower that now serves as a sepulchre.
* * * * *
No rites whatever are performed at the death and burial of an
individual.
When the sufferer has breathed its last all the people in the village
unite in making grand lamentations. They cry, moan and howl worse than
at the proverbial Irish funeral, they blacken their faces with charcoal
and daub it with other colours to frighten away the bad spirit whilst
the family crowd round the dead body and let their tears flow freely,
exclaiming:
"Alas! Look at us, don't leave us! Who will take care of us now! Who
will defend us? Thou has departed before us and we shall follow thee".
The first moments of grief over they quickly destroy the hut visited by
Death, then taking up the corpse they carry it into a thick part of the
forest.
Here a grave is dug, from five to six feet deep and the body is placed
in it, sometimes lying on its back, and sometimes in a sitting posture
but always with its face turned towards the west. Some tobacco, betel
and personal objects of the deceased are put near and then it is covered
up with the ground. Sometimes these articles are strewn on the top of
the grave and sometimes too instead of interring the corpse it is laid
upon pieces of wood placed horizontally across the branches of a large
tree, close to the trunk.
But whether buried or not, for seven days the dead person's relatives
carry water, fruit, tobacco and sirih to the spot, over or under the
last resting-place of their lost one, taking care to always keep a
bright fire burning within the vicinity.
It is however with fear and trembling that this duty is performed and
they regularly implore:
"Here is thy portion, but don't hurt us!"
[Illustration: Tomb of a woman.
_p._ 194.]
Finished the seven days mourning the memory of the dead fades, only
awakening afresh when somebody passes by the burial place when they
deposit there a part of whatever they have with them, game or fruit.
For the sake of truth, though, I must say that the grief of parents for
a child is not so soon cancelled, for I have seen some moved to tears at
the remembrance of one who had been dead perhaps for many seasons.
* * * * *
The immediate consequence of a Sakai's death is the forsaking of the
village by all the survivors for fear that the evil spirit which has
bereaved them of a kinsman may do the same with another.
Then follows the march in search of a desirable spot, as I have already
described. Taking the children and the little domestic goods they
possess upon their shoulders they troop away seeking suitable ground for
the erection of their new huts. The Elder, as head of the immense
family, gives the signal for stopping where he thinks best and if there
is an _Alà_ in their midst he consults with him about the choice of
position.
When the site seems favourable a fire is quickly lighted and if the
smoke goes up straight they settle there otherwise they continue their
wanderings for the Sakai thinks that his whereabouts will be betrayed if
the smoke is dispersed in the forest and that it will serve as a guide
to some bad spirit--eager to do harm--that will cast its fatal influence
over the company fleeing from the cruel spell of another.
Once the decision is made, with wonderful rapidity trees, and bushes are
cut down and the huts are raised.
* * * * *
As in civilized countries. Death amongst the Sakais exacts an exterior
manifestation of mourning, with this difference perhaps that with them
it is much more sincere because they have not the comfort of a long
expected and coveted legacy to make it a farce.
All ornaments have to be put aside; ear-rings, bracelets, necklaces,
nasal sticks, flowers, tattooing etc, for a period of time determined by
the Elder but generally for not less than six months.
Those in mourning are rigorously prohibited to sing, play, dance, marry
and even (quite a Lenten sin) to eat fish and meat on the some day.
The Sakais observe all these prescriptions with the greatest strictness
and are scandalized should any of them be infringed before the appointed
time. Whoever violates them is judged a heartless being and if a woman
loses all the consideration that was hers before.
The duration of mourning varies according to relationship. That for a
father or a mother is the same, but it is shorter for brothers and
sisters and for little children there is none at all.
In this respect the Sakais are not dissimilar to their civilized
fellow-beings who measure their grief by the black clothes they wear and
at the demise of a baby, notwithstanding its parents' desolation, make
the church-bells ring out the liveliest tunes.[17]
* * * * *
When a little Sakai opens its eyes to the light of this world no
religious ceremony greets its arrival.
The woman who is about to become a mother separates herself from the
rest of the family and retires by herself to a hut apart, where the
floor is very high. Nobody assists her at her confinement because there
is perhaps no other event in the existence of a Sakai so involved in
tenacious and perilous superstition as is that of birth. Her own husband
and the father of the new-born babe dare not cross the threshold of the
hut or make the acquaintance of his child until a long time after, that
is, until it has got some strength.
[Illustration: Grave of a Sakai man.
_p._ 194.]
It is always feared that by entering the cabin the smell of the child
may be carried into the forest by means of which the Evil Spirit would
be able to trace it out and do it some mischief. And for the same reason
the newly-made mother dare not have contact with any of the adults who
go into the jungle to hunt or for other purposes, but has food and water
taken her by the children.
It is superfluous to add that for a given time before and after a
confinement the presence of a stranger in the village is not tolerated,
worse still if he is a white man.
The _Alà_, seconded by all, both males and females, is inflexible about
this, asserting that it would be the death of the babe, and it is a
prudent thing to accept the veto with a good grace and to obey the
sorcerer's orders without hesitation. Sometimes a stranger is not even
allowed to look upon a woman who is in an interesting state, as it once
happened to me.
Another time upon arriving at a village where a child had been born a
few hours before, I was flatly refused hospitality, some Sakais
preferring to accompany me a long way off and there erect a hut for my
use on the formal understanding that I should not for any motive
whatever attempt to approach the settlement. Had I not kept to this
condition I should probably have been killed.
One cannot reason with terror.
The hut in which the poor woman is fulfilling the noblest of Nature's
missions is jealously guarded by day and by night.
Woe to the unfortunate individual who is found loitering around it if he
is not one of the village!
The floor of the hut does not touch the ground that the odour of
excrements may not penetrate into the earth and proclaim to the Evil
Spirit: Here a babe is born!
The mother herself, with extreme caution places everything of this sort
in vessels of bamboo which she hangs high up on the bough of a tree.
There the torrid sun quickly dries it all up and the smell emanating
from it being diffused in the upper air the spirit cannot find out the
sick woman or her child.
* * * * *
As soon as the period of gestation commences neither the woman nor her
husband must eat the flesh of monkey or serpent in order not to transfer
to the unborn child the tendencies of a quadruped or reptile.
They must also abstain from eating fish and meat on the same day and are
obliged to be very careful not to enter a hut whilst it rains, this
being always a very bad omen but especially so when an increase is
expected in the family.
Another very bad sign is when the _cep pluì_ sings near the encampment.
The Sakais consider it quite as unlucky as the grating screech of the
night owl (birds kept in awe by the Sakais as being in familiarity with
the Evil Spirit) on the roof of a house, or the spilling of salt is
believed to be in many countries we know.
A few days before her confinement the woman picks up some leaves of the
_bakaù_ which have fallen to the ground and makes a decoction with them.
She drinks a little every day, continuing the cure even after
child-birth. I do not know the wherefore of this but the women seem to
think it exercises a particular effect upon them at this period.
Immediately the child is born its mother takes the fruit of the _buà
kaluna_ and squeezes out a few drops into the little thing's mouth.
I have never been able to understand the reason of such a practice but
believe that it is inspired by some superstition or hygienic rule of the
natives.
The fruit of the _buà kaluna_ is sweet but has also a rather tart
flavour.
After seven days have passed the newly made mother leaves the hut and
makes abundant ablutions that have the same character and scope as the
religious duty imposed upon the Israelite women; that of respect for
elementary hygiene.
From this moment the wife may return to her husband but she is not
allowed to go into the forest and is obliged to wear upon her stomach a
hot stone, which serves her as a cure and exorcism.
She returns to her faithful mate but she does not abandon her child
whose separation from all other human beings, including its own father,
cannot last for less than six months.
The birth and death of a Sakai, as here seen, is devoid of every rite or
ceremony, as in the case of matrimony or divorce and do not require even
the intervention of the _Alà_.
* * * * *
The fact of their being strictly forbidden, when kindling a fire, to
lift their eyes from it until the wood has been well ignited and smoke
proceeds from it would suggest the idea that there is either a
superstition attached to this operation or that fire is also an object
of veneration with them. But this concentration of the gaze may be
simply a precaution (become a habit) not to retard the act of combustion
by distraction of thought.
The only thing in connection with this custom I have succeeded in
ascertaining is that the Sakais have no particular cult for the Sacred
Fire like the priests of Baal the Brahmins in India and the Vestals of
Rome but appreciate it as a means of cooking their food, preparing their
poisons, of warming them during the night and of keeping wild beasts far
from their huts. And I was convinced of this the first time I gave them
matches and taught them their use.
Their wonder was mixed with satisfaction but had there been any
pronounced religious sentiment they would have rejected the modern
innovation and continued the old method of making fire.
* * * * *
I have here given a rough idea of the superstitions and beliefs of the
Sakais as best I have been able to understand them from close
observation and words inadvertently let fall now and then. They may be
briefly summed up thus: a supreme terror of Evil spirits; a vague
principle of the soul's transmigration (a strange degeneration from the
primitive conception of the Pythagorean theory).
The people of the jungle are still under the thick shade of cerebral
inertia. They have not yet seen the swift, bright light of a first doubt
flash across the darkness of their brain giving to it a shock of
unsuspected vibrations. As yet no glorious Prometheus has arisen amongst
those primitive creatures far whom the discouraging counsel of the
Italian poet might seem to have been in part written:
Meglio oprando obliar, senza indagarlo,
Quest'enorme mister dell' universo![18]
The Sakais have no real religion; they only have fear for everything
they do not understand or cannot. And yet in the practice of morality
they are much more forward than other uncivilized and even civilized
peoples.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 16: Pronounced _tay nak_ and _chintok_.--_Translator's Note._]
[Footnote 17: A custom in Italy when a little child is buried.
_Translator's Note._]
[Footnote 18: Better by work to forget, without studying it,
This tremendous mystery of the Universe.]