Indian Conjuring

Chapter 7

Chapter 71,710 wordsPublic domain

THE DANCING DUCK

As his last trick was with water the Jadoo-wallah sensibly enough proceeds to show another with water, though an English conjuror would separate such tricks from an artistic point of view, thinking that a change of diet in magic is just as necessary as it is in a meal. The trick is that of the dancing duck.

A half cocoa-nut shell is dug out of the bag. It is wrapped up in a piece of cloth and very carefully unfolded, for reasons that will be apparent later. In this shell is a little wooden duck. The shell is placed on the ground and filled with water upon which the duck floats. The performer takes his "tom tom" and while playing it the duck begins to dance, as it were, upon the water. After an interval it is commanded to pay its obeisances or in other words, to "salaam," which it does by going right under water. On the word "bas" it comes up again. And so forth and so on.

It is a clever little trick and we will now see how it is done.

The cocoa-nut shell has a hole through the bottom of it. Through this hole passes a horse hair that is attached at one end to the duck and at the other to a piece of bees wax. The hair is about two feet long. The whole apparatus is wrapped in a piece of cloth as otherwise the horse hair would get unwound and broken. When placing it on the ground, the bees wax enables the performer to see where the end of the hair is when unwound. The shell is filled with water, some being carelessly spilt to prevent the leakage through the little hole at the bottom being too noticeable. When picking up his "tom-tom" the performer also picks up the bees wax, and attaching it to the "tom-tom" the arrangements are complete. Bringing the "tom-tom" closer to the body makes the duck dive under water. The ordinary shaking of the drum makes the duck dance.

This is not a trick that can be conveniently shewn by Europeans, because of the inconvenience of doing it on the ground. The leakage of the water is not so apparent on the earth, which hides the horse hair. But at a small distance the trick can be done on a table, as the horse hair is quite invisible at a range of five feet, especially when it is against a dark back ground. It can be easily made or bought for a few annas, and with good patter presents a neat little after dinner experiment.

_The Mango Tree Trick._

To my mind it is amazing what a spurious reputation this trick has gained. From a technical point of view, it is possibly the worst performance of the Indian conjuror. From a physiological point of view the gullibility of the audience is astounding. Wherever one goes in England, France or America, in fact anywhere out of India, and the conversation turns to Magic, one is asked about the Mango Tree trick, and whether one has seen it done. I have heard the most gorgeously elaborated descriptions of this trick, given not only by persons who had heard about it but, I regret to say, by persons who said that they had seen it done. On one occasion on board ship a Eurasian, who hailed from ---- and indulged in the Mahommedan name of Macpherson, gave me the following details of the trick as he had seen it performed, of course many many years ago. When he was only two years old I expect.

"A conjuror came into the compound, and my father told him to clear out. The man, however, persisted in remaining, saying that he had something very wonderful to show us. My father eventually agreed to watch the performance. We all sat down on the verandah, which was of solid concrete, and the Jadoo-wallah took off his "dhoti" or loin cloth, and squatted in front of us. He produced a mango stone and put it under some loose earth, which he had gathered up from our own garden. He played on his flute, and as he did so the stone began to sprout until the little shrub was about two inches high. He then watered it a little and again began playing the most beautiful music to it. The little plant grew higher and higher as he did so, until it was quite two feet high with a number of leaves upon it. He then watered it a second time, and again played his flute until the tree was four feet high with fruit on it. He then stopped his music and cut one of the mangoes off the tree, which my father ate and found to be delicious."

That was Macpherson's story.

I have never seen the trick done this way, and do not know of anyone who has. But I have an explanation to give. In fact four explanations. These are:--

That Macpherson and Baron Muenchausen were relations.

That Macpherson's cousin was Louis de Rougement.

That the trick as above was explained to me late at night, after Macpherson had had "one or two."

That it was never done at all. Of course I do not want to call Macpherson a liar. It would be rude. He is a bigger man than I am, and he might meet me again.

I will now describe the mango trick as I have seen it performed many many times.

The Jadoo-wallah, sitting under the porch and not upon a concrete verandah, heaps up some earth in front of him. He wets this until it has the consistency of mud. He then places in this little mound a mango stone and covers the whole with a cloth. He plays the "bean" and takes away the cloth when the heap is found to be as before. He takes the lid of his basket, and covering it with the cloth, places it over the heap of mud propping up one end of it, that towards himself, with a little piece of stick. More "bean." He then takes away the lid and cloth. Still no result. He puts back the covering again. (I am going to call this point "A" for my explanation.) After a certain amount of manipulation, during which is heard the rustling of leaves, he lifts it up and Lo! and behold! there is a small plant in view. He administers to it with water and adjusts its leaves. He again goes through the same performance as above. Each time that he takes away the basket cover the tree has grown larger. The most developed finale that I have seen, is when the tree was about two feet high with a number of leaves and two diminutive unripe mangoes on it.

My explanation will rob those who like to imagine that magic pure and simple, accounts for the Mango Tree trick of a great deal of their enjoyment in that belief.

The making of the loose earth into a mud pie is necessary, because, otherwise the bits of branches that are to be stuck into it from time to time will not stand upright.

At the point "A" referred to above, when the performer takes the basket lid away, with the cloth he picks up a small bundle by his side which contains a small piece of a mango twig with two or three leaves upon it. Under cover of the replaced lid he undoes the bundle, gets out the twig, and sticks it into the mud heap pressing it firmly down, so that it stands erect and appears to have grown there. He plays a little music and carries away the lid, and with it the empty rag that contained the twig. He places the lid on the ground and so gets rid of the rag. While his audience are showing their surprise at the development of the twig, he picks up still another larger bundle containing a still bigger branch of a mango tree. He replaces the lid, and under cover of it unfolds the bundle, gets out the branch, adds it to the twig already in the mud heap and makes all secure by again pressing down the mud.

Finally he plants in the same way, the branch which has possibly two mangoes upon it. It might even have ripe fruit, the means of getting them there being just the same, though the ripe fruit being brought to view will of course depend upon the season of the year at which the trick is being shewn.

When the necessary monetary subscription that follows this trick has been completed, the Jadoo-wallah sweeps the branches, earth, and all away in one fell destructive swoop which does not allow his audience to ascertain whether or no the tree had any roots.

Occasionally, instead of the basket lid, the magician uses three sticks tied together in the form of a tripod over which he places his cloth under which he works his mysteries. This was the method of Ghaus Mahommed.

Many of my readers may say that the above cannot be the explanation of the trick. All I can say is, that the next time they see the mango trick being performed, let them take a copy of this little book and refer to it as the trick progresses, when I feel confident that they will accept this true and only explanation.

If they are still unbelievers, or rather believers in the real Magic of the trick, let them offer untold gold to any man who will do the Mango Tree trick in India in January, or February, culminating in the tree having ripe or unripe fruit upon it. As far as I know, the Mango Tree does not give fruit in these two months and the money will never be forfeited.

Now that we know the explanation, does it not strike the reader as amazing that such a crude, simple trick should have gained the reputation it has done. I can only attribute the fact to persons like our Mahommedan and Scotch friend Macpherson, who tell "traveller's yarns" until they in time begin to believe them themselves.