Chapter 6

I next observed five Sannyasis approaching. They came up and joined the one with me, entered into talk, and finally pulled out a hookah and began to smoke. They asked me if I could smoke. I said no. One of them said to me, let us see the swami in your bundle (here gives a description of the same). I said, "I cannot, I am not clean enough to do so." "Why not perform your ablutions in yonder stream?" they said. "If you sprinkle water on your forehead that will suffice." I went to wash my hands and feet, and laved my head, and showed it to them. Next they disappeared. "As it is very late, it is time you returned home," said my first friend. "No," I said, "now I have found you I will not leave you." "No, no," he said, "you must go home. You cannot leave the world yet; you are a father and a husband, and you must not neglect your worldly duties. Follow the footsteps of your late respected uncle; he did not neglect his worldly affairs, though he cared for the interests of his soul; you must go, but I will meet you again when you get your fortnightly holiday." On this he embraced me, and I again became unconscious. When I returned to myself, I found myself at the bottom of Col. Jones' Coffee Plantation above Coonor on a path. Here the Sannyasi wished me farewell, and pointing to the high road below, he said, "Now you will know your way home;" but I would not part from him. I said, "All this will appear a dream to me unless you will fix a day and promise to meet me here again." "I promise," he said. "No, promise me by an oath on the head of my idol." Again he promised, and touched the head of my idol. "Be here," he said, "this day fortnight." When the day came I anxiously kept my engagement and went and sat on the stone on the path. I waited a long time in vain. At last I said to myself, "I am deceived, he is not coming, he has broken his oath"--and with grief I made a poojah. Hardly had these thoughts passed my mind, than lo! he stood beside me. "Ah, you doubt me," he said; "why this grief." I fell at his feet and confessed I had doubted him and begged his forgiveness. He forgave and comforted me, and told me to keep in my good ways and he would always help me; and he told me and advised me about all my private affairs without my telling him one word, and he also gave me some medicines for a sick friend which I had promised to ask for but had forgotten. This medicine was given to my friend and he is perfectly well now.

A verbatim translation of a Settlement Officer's statement to

--E.H. Morgan

Witchcraft on the Nilgiris

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

Shamanism and Witchcraft Amongst the Kolarian Tribes

Having resided for some years amongst the Mimdas and Hos of Singbhoom, and Chutia Nagpur, my attention was drawn at times to customs differing a good deal in some ways, but having an evident affinity to those related of the Nilghiri "Curumbers" in Mrs. Morgan's article. I do not mean to say that the practices I am about to mention are confined simply to the Kolarian tribes, as I am aware both Oraons (a Dravidian tribe), and the different Hindu castes living side by side with the Kols, count many noted wizards among their number; but what little I have come to know of these curious customs, I have learnt among the Mimdas and Hos, some of the most celebrated practitioners among them being Christian converts. The people themselves say, that these practices are peculiar to their race, and not learnt from the Hindu invaders of their plateau; but I am inclined to think that some, at least, of the operations have a strong savour of the Tantric black magic about them, though practiced by people who are often entirely ignorant of any Hindu language.

These remarks must he supplemented by a short sketch of Kol ideas of worship. They have nothing that I have either seen or heard of in the shape of an image, but their periodical offerings are made to a number of elemental spirits, and they assign a genie to every rock or tree in the country, whom they do not consider altogether malignant, but who, if not duly "fed" or propitiated, may become so.

The Singbonga (lit., sun or light spirit) is the chief; Buru Bonga (spirit of the hills), and the Ikhir Bonga (spirit of the deep), come next. After these come the Darha, of which each family has its own, and they may be considered in the same light as Lares and Penates. But every threshing, flour and oil mill, has its spirit, who must be duly fed, else evil result may be expected. Their great festival (the Karam) is in honour of Singbonga and his assistants; the opening words of the priests' speech on that occasion, sufficiently indicate that they consider Singbonga, the creator of men and things. Munure Singbonga manokoa luekidkoa (In the beginning Singbonga made men).

Each village has its Sarna or sacred grove, where the hereditary priest from time to time performs sacrifices, to keep things prosperous; but this only relates to spirits actually connected with the village, the three greater spirits mentioned, being considered general, are only fed at intervals of three or more years, and always on a public road or other public place, and once every ten years a human being was (and as some will tell you is sacrificed to keep the whole community of spirits in good train.) The Pahans, or village priests, are regular servants of the spirits, and the najo, deona and bhagats are people who in some way are supposed to obtain an influence or command over them. The first and lowest grade of these adepts, called najos (which may be translated as practitioners of witchcraft pure and simple), are frequently women. They are accused, like the "Mula Curumbers," of demanding quantities of grain or loans of money, &c., from people, and when these demands are refused, they go away with a remark to the effect, "that you have lots of cattle and grain just now, but we'll see what they are like after a month or two." Then probably the cattle of the bewitched person will get some disease, and several of them die, or some person of his family will become ill or get hurt in some unaccountable way. Till at last, thoroughly frightened, the afflicted person takes a little uncooked rice and goes to a deona or mati (as he is called in the different vernaculars of the province)--the grade immediately above najo in knowledge--and promising him a reward if he will assist him, requests his aid; if the deona accedes to the request, the proceedings are as follows. The deona taking the oil brought, lights a small lamp and seats himself beside it with the rice in a surpa (winnower) in his hands. After looking intently at the lamp flame for a few minutes, he begins to sing a sort of chant of invocation in which all the spirits are named, and at the name of each spirit a few grains of rice are thrown into the lamp. When the flame at any particular name gives a jump and flares up high, the spirit concerned in the mischief is indicated. Then the deona takes a small portion of the rice wrapped up in a sal (Shorea robusta) leaf and proceeds to the nearest new white-ant nest from which he cuts the top off and lays the little bundle, half in and half out of the cavity. Having retired, he returns in about an hour to see if the rice is consumed, and according to the rapidity with which it is eaten he predicts the sacrifice which will appease the spirit. This ranges from a fowl to a buffalo, but whatever it may include, the pouring out of blood is an essential. It must be noted, however, that the mati never tells who the najo is who has excited the malignity of the spirit.

But the most important and lucrative part of a deona's business is the casting out of evil spirits, which operation is known variously as ashab and langhan. The sign of obsession is generally some mental alienation accompanied (in bad cases) by a combined trembling and restlessness of limbs, or an unaccountable swelling up of the body. Whatever the symptoms may be the mode of cure appears to be much the same. On such symptoms declaring themselves, the deona is brought to the house and is in the presence of the sick man and his friends provided with some rice in a surpa, some oil, a little vermilion, and the deona produces from his own person a little powdered sulphur and an iron tube about four inches long and two tikli.* Before the proceedings begin all the things mentioned are touched with vermilion, a small quantity of which is also mixed with the rice. Three or four grains of rice and one of the tikli being put into the tube, a lamp is then lighted beside the sick man and the deona begins his chant, throwing grains of rice at each name, and when the flame flares up, a little of the powdered sulphur is thrown into the lamp and a little on the sick man, who thereupon becomes convulsed, is shaken all over and talks deliriously, the deona's chant growing louder all the while. Suddenly the convulsions and the chant cease, and the deona carefully takes up a little of the sulphur off the man's body and puts into the tube, which he then seals with the second tikli. The deona and one of the man's friends then leave the hut, taking the iron tube and rice with them, the spirit being now supposed out of the man and bottled up in the iron tube. They hurry across country until they leave the hut some miles behind. Then they go to the edge of some tank or river, to some place they know to be frequented by people for the purposes of bathing, &c., where, after some further ceremony, the iron is stuck into the ground and left there. This is done with the benevolent intention that the spirit may transfer its attentions to the unfortunate person who may happen to touch it while bathing. I am told the spirit in this case usually chooses a young and healthy person. Should the deona think the spirit has not been able to suit itself with a new receptacle, he repairs to where a bazaar is taking place and there (after some ceremony) he mixes with the crowd, and taking a grain of the reddened rice jerks it with his forefinger and thumb in such a way that without attracting attention it falls on the person or clothes of some. This is done several times to make certain. Then the deona declares he has done his work, and is usually treated to the best dinner the sick man's friends can afford. It is said that the person to whom the spirit by either of these methods is transferred may not be affected for weeks or even months. But some fine day while he is at his work, he will suddenly stop, wheel round two or three times on his heels and fall down more or less convulsed, from that time forward he will begin to be troubled in the same way as his dis-obsessed predecessor was.

* Tikli is a circular piece of gilt paper which is stuck on between the eyebrows of the women of the Province as ornament. --------

Having thus given some account of the deona, we now come to the bhagat, called by the Hindus sokha and sivnath. This is the highest grade of all, and, as I ought to have mentioned before, the 'ilm (knowledge) of both the deona and bhagat grades is only to be learned by becoming a regular chela of a practitioner; but I am given to understand that the final initiation is much hastened by a seasonable liberality on the part of the chela. During the initiation of the sokha certain ceremonies are performed at night by aid of a human corpse, this is one of the things which has led me to think that this part at least of these practices is connected with Tantric black magic.

The bhagat performs two distinct functions: (1st), a kind of divination called bhao (the same in Hindi), and (2nd), a kind of Shamanism called darasta in Hindi, and bharotan in Horokaji, which, however, is resorted to only on very grave occasions--as, for instance, when several families think they are bewitched at one time and by the same najo.

The bhao is performed as follows:--The person having some query to propound, makes a small dish out of a sal leaf and puts in it a little uncooked rice and a few pice; he then proceeds to the bhagat and lays before him the leaf and its contents, propounding at the same time his query. The bhagat then directs him to go out and gather two golaichi (varieties of Posinia) flowers (such practitioners usually having a golaichi tree close to their abodes); after the flowers are brought the bhagat seats himself with the rice close to the inquirer, and after some consideration selects one of the flowers, and holding it by the stalk at about a foot from his eyes in his left hand twirls it between his thumb and fingers, occasionally with his right hand dropping on it a grain or two of rice.* In a few minutes his eyes close and he begins to talk-- usually about things having nothing to do with the question in hand, but after a few minutes of this, he suddenly yells out an answer to the question, and without another word retires. The inquirer takes his meaning as he can from the answer, which, I believe, is always ambiguous.

* This is the process by which the bhagat mesmerizes himself. ---------