CHAPTER V.

WORSHIP OF THE MALEVOLENT DEAD.

Prôtê de psychê Elpênoros êlthen etairou, Ou gar pô etethapto hypo chthonos euryodeiês.

Odyssey, xi. 51, 52.

These deified ghosts and saints whom we have been discussing, though occasionally touchy and sensitive to insult or disrespect, are, as a rule, benevolent. But there is another class of beings at whose feet the rustic lies in grievous and perpetual bondage. These are the malevolent dead.

Spirits of the Dead Hostile.

It is not difficult to understand why the spirits of the dead should be regarded as hostile. A stranger is, in the belief of all primitive people, synonymous with an enemy; and the spirit of the departed having abandoned his own and joined some other and invisible tribe, whose domains lie outside the world of sense, is sure to be considered inimical to the survivors left on earth. As we have already seen, even the usually kindly spirit of the departed household dead requires propitiation and resents neglect; much more those of a different tribe or family.

Again, those disembodied souls in particular whose departure from the earth occurred under unexpected or specially tragical circumstances are naturally considered to have been ejected against their will from their tenement of clay, and as for many of them the proper funeral rites have not been performed, they carry with them to the next world an angry longing for revenge. As Brand, writing of British ghosts, says, "The ghosts of murdered persons, whose bodies have been secretly buried, are restless until their bones have been taken up and deposited in consecrated ground with the due rites of Christian burial; this idea being the survival of the old heathen superstition that Charon was not allowed to ferry over the ghosts of the unburied, but that they wandered up and down the banks of the river Styx for a period of a hundred years, at the expiration of which they were admitted to a passage." [469]

This conception of the state of the soul after death may be illustrated by the savage theory of dreams.

Savage Theory of Dreams.

Many savages believe that the evidence of dreams is sufficient to prove that the soul moves about during sleep, and that the dream is the record of its experiences in hunting, dancing, visiting friends, and so on.

The Separable Soul.

Hence arises the possibility that in the temporary absence of a man's soul his body may be occupied by some other person's spirit, or even by a malignant ghost or demon. In the Panchatantra there is a story of a king who lost his own soul, but afterwards recovered it. A Panjâb tale tells how a Hindu was once asleep and his soul went on its travels as usual. During its wanderings it felt thirsty and went into a pitcher of water to drink. While it was in the pitcher some one shut the lid, and it was imprisoned. His friends took the corpse to the cremation ground, but some one happened fortunately to open the pitcher just in time, and the spirit flew into its own body, which awoke on the bier. [470] In the same way, according to Apollonius, the soul of Hermotimos of Klazomenoe left his body frequently, resided in different places, uttered all sorts of predictions, and used to come back to his body, which remained in his house. At last some spiteful persons burnt his body in the absence of his soul. In another tale of Somadeva the soul of Chandraprabha abandons his own body and enters that of a hero under the influence of Mâyâ or delusion. [471]

On this principle Hindus are very cautious about awaking a sleeping friend, lest his soul may happen to be absent at the time, and in Bombay it is considered most reprehensible to play jokes on a sleeping person, such as painting the face in fantastic colours, or giving moustaches to a sleeping woman. The absent soul may not be able to find its own body, the appearance of which has been thus changed, and may depart altogether, leaving the body a corpse.

It is a common incident of the folk-tales that the soul departs in a dream and falls in love with a girl. We have it in the common tale of the Rival Queens, where the king sees in a dream the most lovely woman in the world, and imposes on his courtiers the task of finding her. The same idea is found more or less in Somadeva, and constantly recurs in European folk-lore. [472] In the same way we have the well-known tale of the instantaneous lapse of time in dreams, as that of the king who plunges his head into water, goes through wondrous adventures, and when he takes his head out of the vessel, finds himself surrounded by his courtiers as before.

The rustic Hindu firmly believes that in the absence of a man's proper soul in a dream his body is occupied by some strange and consequently malignant ghost. Hence come the nightmare and evil dreams. Thus the Korwas of Mirzapur believe that a Bhûtin or dangerous female ghost named Reiyâ besets them at night under the orders of some witch, and attacks people's joints with the rheumatism. The Majhwârs believe that the Râkshasa attacks them in dreams. He comes in the shape of an old man with enormous teeth, brown of colour, with black, entangled hair, and sometimes swallows his victims. It is fear of him that brings the fever, and he can be exorcised only by the Baiga with an offering of rice and pulse. The Dâno also comes in dreams, squeezes a man's throat, and stops his breath. The Bhuiyârs have adopted from the Hindu mythology Jam or Yama as one of their dream ghosts. He sits on his victim's breast in sleep, and it is impossible to shake him off or make an alarm. Sometimes these night ghosts come as tigers, wolves, or bears, and hunt a man down in his sleep.

On the same principle the shadow of a man is believed to be part of a man's soul, and may be separated from him, injured or wounded by an enemy. Hence it is considered dangerous to tread on the shadow of a man in the sunshine. Buddha is said to have left his shadow in the cave at Pabhosa, where he killed the Nâga. [473]

The same is the case with looking into other people's mirrors, because you may chance leave behind your reflection, which is part of your soul. As we have seen, this is the basis of much of the theory of water spirits, which lurk in water holes and seize the reflection of anyone who looks into them. The Sunni Muhammadans in Bombay cover up all the looking-glasses in a house when a person is sick, as the soul, which is just then on the prowl, may be absorbed, and leave its owner a corpse.

Lastly, the same theory accounts for the disinclination which rustics have to being painted or photographed. Some of the soul goes out in the image and does not return. There is a rest-house on the Asthbhuja Hill at Mirzapur which was many years ago presented to the Europeans of the station by a wealthy banker. He was overpersuaded to allow his picture to be painted, and fell into a lingering consumption, of which he soon after died.

The Bhût.

The general term for these spirits is Bhût, in Sanskrit Bhûta, which means "formed" or "created." In the earlier Hindu writings the word is applied to the powers of Nature, and even to deities. Siva himself is called Bhûtîsvara, or "Lord of spirits," and, under the name of Bhûtîsvara Mahâdeva, has a shrine at Mathura. But as the Greek Dæmon acquired a less respectable meaning in the later ages of the history of the nation, so Bhût has now come to imply a malignant evil spirit.

But Bhût is a general term which includes many grades of evil spirits which it is necessary to distinguish. We shall first, however, deal with certain characters common to Bhûts in general.

The proper Bhût is the spirit emanating from a man who has died a violent death, either by accident, suicide, or capital punishment. Such a soul reaches an additional grade of malignancy if he has been denied proper funeral ceremonies after death. This is one of his special wants which deprive the spirit of his longed-for rest. Thus, we read in Childe Harold, "Unsepulchred they roamed and shrieked, each wandering ghost." The shade of Patroclus appeared to Achilles in his sleep and demanded the performance of his funeral, and the younger Pliny tells of a haunted house in Athens, in which a ghost played all kinds of pranks owing to his funeral rites having been neglected. This idea is at the base of the Hindu funeral ceremonies, and of the periodical Srâddha. Hence arose the conception of the Gayâl, or sonless ghost. He is the spirit of a man who has died without any issue competent to perform the customary rites; hence he is spiteful, and he is especially obnoxious to the lives of the young sons of other people. Accordingly in every Panjâb village will be seen small platforms, with rows of little hemispherical depressions into which milk and Ganges water are poured, and by which lamps are lit and Brâhmans fed to conciliate the Gayâl; "while the careful mother will always dedicate a rupee to him, and hang it round her child's neck till he grows up." Mr. Ibbetson [474] suggests that this may have been the origin of the mysterious so-called "cup-marks," described by Mr. Rivett-Carnac. But this is far from certain; they may equally well have been used for sacrifices to Mother Earth, or in any other primeval form of worship.

Shrines to Persons Accidentally Killed.

Many of these shrines to persons who have died by an untimely death are known by special names, which indicate the character of the accident. We shall meet again with the Baghaut, or shrine, to a man killed by a tiger. We have also Bijaliya Bîr, the man who was killed by lightning, Târ Bîr, a man who fell from a Târ or toddy tree, and Nâgiya Bîr, a person killed by a snake. General Cunningham mentions shrines of this kind; one to an elephant driver who was killed by a fall from a tree, another to a Brâhman who was killed by a cow, a third to a Kashmîri lady who had only one leg and died in her flight from Delhi to Oudh of exhaustion on the journey.

Bhûts are most to be feared by women and children, and by people at any serious crisis of their lives, such as marriage or child-birth. They also attack people after eating sweets, "so that if you treat a school to sweetmeats, the sweetmeat seller will also bring salt, of which he will give a pinch to each boy to take the sweet taste out of his mouth." [475] Salt is, as we shall see later on, particularly offensive to evil spirits. [476]

Second Marriage and Bhûts.

Women who have married a second time are specially liable to the envious attacks of the first husband. If in Bombay "a Mahâdeo Koli widow bride or her husband sicken, it is considered the work of the former husband. Among the Somavansi Kshatriyas, there is a strong belief that when a woman marries another husband, her first husband becomes a ghost and troubles her. This fear is so strongly rooted in their minds, that whenever a woman of this caste sickens, she attributes her sickness to the ghost of her former husband, and consults an exorcist as to how she can get rid of him. The exorcist gives her some charmed rice, flowers, and basil leaves, and tells her to enclose them in a small copper box and wear it round her neck. Sometimes the exorcist gives her a charmed cocoanut, which he tells her to worship daily, and in some cases he advises the woman to make a copper or silver image of the dead and worship it every day." [477]

So in Northern India, people who marry again after the death of the first wife wear what is known as the Saukan Maura, or second wife's crown. This is a little silver amulet, generally with an image of Devî engraved on it. This is hung round the husband's neck, and all presents made to the second wife are first dedicated to it. The idea is that the new wife recognizes the superiority of her predecessor, and thus appeases her malignity. The illness or death of the second wife or of her husband soon after marriage is attributed to the jealousy of the ghost of the first wife, which has not been suitably propitiated.

In the Panjâb, on the same principle, if a man has lost two or three wives in succession, he gets a woman to catch a bird and adopt it as her daughter. He then pays the dower, marries his bird bride, and immediately divorces her. By this means the malignant influence is diverted to the bird, and the real wife is safe. [478] We shall meet again with the same principle in dealing with the curious custom of tree marriage.

Food of Bhûts.

Like evil spirits all the world over, Bhûts will eat filthy food, and as they are always thirsty, they are glad to secure even a drop of water, no matter how impure the purpose may have been for which it has been used. On the other hand, they are very fond of milk, and no Panjâbi woman likes her child to leave the house after drinking fresh milk. If she cannot prevent it from going, she puts some salt or ashes into its mouth to scare the Bhût. [479]

Posture of Bhûts.

Bhûts can never sit on the ground, apparently, because, as has been shown already, the earth, personified as a goddess, scares away all evil influence. Hence, near the low-caste shrines a couple of pegs or bricks are set up for the Bhût to rest on, or a bamboo is hung over it, on which the Bhût perches when he visits the place. [480] On the same principle the Orâons hang up the cinerary urn containing the bones of a dead man on a post in front of the house, [481] and the person who is going on a pilgrimage, or conveying the bones of a relative to the Ganges, sleeps on the ground; but the bones must not rest on the ground; they are hung on the branch of a tree, so that their late owner may revisit them if so disposed. Near shrines where Bhûts are always about on the chance of appropriating the offerings, it is expedient to sleep on the ground. So the bride and bridegroom rest, and the dying man is laid at the moment of dissolution.

Tests of Bhûts.

There are at least three infallible tests by which you may recognize a Bhût. In the first place he casts no shadow. In the third Canto of the Purgatorio, Dante is much distressed because Virgil, being a disembodied spirit, casts no shadow. In the second place a Bhût can stand almost anything in his neighbourhood but the scent of burning turmeric, which, as we shall see, is a well-known demon-scarer. Thirdly, a genuine Bhût always speaks with a nasal twang, and it is possibly for this last reason that the term for the gibberish in the mediæval plays and for modern English is Pisâcha Bhâsha, or the language of goblins. [482] Some of them have throats as narrow as a needle, but they can drink gallons of water at a time. Some, like the Churel, whom we shall meet later on, have their feet turned backwards. Some, like Brâhman ghosts, are wheat-coloured or white; others, like the Kâfari, the ghost of a murdered negro, are black, and particularly dreaded. A famous ghost of this class haunts a lane in Calcutta, which takes its name from him.

Spirit Lovers.

Many denizens of the spirit land have connection with mortals. We have the cycle of folk-tales known as that of the Swan maidens.

Urvasî came and lived with Parûravas until he broke the curiosity taboo. We shall see instances where Indra gives one of his fairies to a mortal lover, and spirits like the Incubi and Succubi of European folk-lore can be brought down by incantation.

Spirit Entries: The Head.

Spirits enter and leave the body in various ways. They often use the head in this way, and in particular the tenth aperture of the body, one of the skull sutures, known as Brahma-randhra. This is the reason why the skull is broken at cremation to open the "crevice of Brahma," as this orifice is called.

In the case of one of the ascetic orders, who are buried and not cremated, a blow is given on the head with a cocoanut or a conch shell. Thus, when the chief teacher of the Brâhmans in Bombay dies, his successor breaks a cocoanut on his skull and makes an opening, in which the sacred Sâlagrâma stone is laid. [483] This rite of skull-breaking, which is done by the next relation, is a recognized part of the Hindu cremation rite, and is known as Kapâlakriya.

The same theory that the head is an entry for spirits accounts for numerous strange practices. Thus, when in Kumaun a man is bitten by a snake they pull three hairs from his scalp-lock and strike him three times on the top of the head with the first joint of the middle finger, a kind of blow which in ordinary cases is regarded with the utmost terror. So when a person has fever, they take a bone and fill it with grain, and, making the patient stand in the sun, dig a hole where the shadow of his head falls, and there bury the bone, saying, "Fever! Begone with the bone!" [484] At a Gond wedding, the old man who officiates knocks the heads of the bride and bridegroom together to scare the evil spirits, [485] and at a Hindu marriage in Northern India the mother of the youth, as he leaves to fetch his bride, and as he returns with her, waves lamps, a brass tray, grain, and a rice pounder, to drive off the Bhûts fluttering round his head. It is on the same principle that the bridegroom wears a marriage crown, and this also accounts for many of the customs of blessing by the laying on of hands and anointing which prevail all over the world. In the same way the hair has always been regarded as a spirit entry. Magistrates in Northern India are often troubled by people who announce their intention of "letting their hair grow" at some one whom they desire to injure. This, if one can judge by the manifest terror exhibited by the person against whom this rite is directed, must be a very stringent form of coercion. For the same reason ascetics wear the hair loose and keep it uncut, as Sampson did, and the same idea probably accounts for the rites of ceremonial shaving of youths, and of the mourners after death.

The Mouth.

As might have been expected, Bhûts are very fond of entering by the mouth. Hence arise much of the mouth-washing which is part of the daily ritual of the Hindu, and many of the elaborate precautions which he takes at meals. This will be referred to again in connection with the Evil Eye.

Yawning.

Hence it is very dangerous to yawn, as two kinds of danger are to be apprehended--either a Bhût may go down your throat, or part of your soul may escape, and you will be hard set to recover it. So if you chance to yawn, you should put your hand to your mouth and say Nârâyan--"Great God!" afterwards, or you should crack your fingers, which scares the evil spirit. This idea is the common property of folk-lore. [486]

Sneezing.

So, sneezing is due to demoniacal influence, but opinions differ as to whether it is caused by a Bhût entering or leaving the nose. The latter view is generally taken by Musalmâns, because it is one of the traditions of the Prophet that the nose should be washed out with water, as the devil resides in it during the night. The sneezing superstition in India is at least as old as the Buddhist Jâtakas, where we have a remarkable tale about it, which describes how the future Buddha and his father Gagga went to pass the night in a place haunted by a Yakkha, or Yaksha, and were very near being devoured by him because they did not say the spell "Live!" when they sneezed. [487]

So, in Somadeva's tale of Sulochana and Sushena, the spirit of the air says, "When he enters into his private apartments, he shall sneeze a hundred times; and if some one there does not say to him a hundred times, 'God bless you,' he shall fall into the grasp of death." [488] It is needless to say that the same belief prevails in Europe. As Dr. Tylor says, "Even the Emperor Tiberius, that saddest of men, exacted this observance." According to the Muhammadan rule, if a person sneezes and then says immediately afterwards, Al-hamdu li'llah, "God be praised," it is incumbent upon at least one of the party to reply, Yarhamu-ka 'llah, just as among the Jews the sneezing formula was Tobkin Khayim, "Good life!"

On the whole, sneezing is considered auspicious, because it implies the expulsion of a Bhût. As a general rule, if a person sneezes when another is beginning some work, the latter stops for a while, and then begins afresh; if there be two sneezes in succession, there is no necessity for interruption. If a man sneezes behind the back of another, the back of the latter is slightly pinched. In Bombay, if a man sneezes during a meal, one of the party calls on him to name his birthplace. [489] The threshold in the folk-lore of all nations is regarded as a sacred place. It is here, according to the Scotch and Irish belief, that the house fairies reside. Sitting on the threshold is believed by Indian matrons likely to produce boils in children in that part of the body which touches it, and it is thought most unlucky to sneeze on the threshold. On the whole, one sneeze is ominous, while after two work may be commenced with safety. So it was in the days of Homer--"Even so she spoke, and Telemachus sneezed loudly, and around the roof rang wondrously, and Penelope laughed, and straightway spoke Eumoeus winged words, 'Go! call me the stranger, even so into my presence. Dost thou not mark how my son has sneezed a blessing on all my words?'" [490]

The Hands and Feet.

The hands and feet are also means by which Bhûts enter the body. Hence much of the ablution at prayers and meals; the hand-clapping which accompanies so many religious and mystical rites; the passing of the hand over the head; the laying of the hands on the eyes to restore sight, of which we have many examples in the Indian folk-tales; the hand-pledging at marriages; the drinking of the Charan-amrita, or water, in which the feet of a holy man have been washed; the ceremonial washing of the feet of the bridegroom at a wedding by the father of the bride. The stock case of the danger of the not washing the feet at night is that of Adilî, whose impurity allowed Indra to form the Maruts out of her embryo. A man with flat feet is considered most unlucky, as in North England, where if you meet a flat-soled man on Monday you are advised to go home, eat and drink, or evil will befall you. [491] The chief basis of feet-washing is the idea that a person coming from abroad and not immediately carrying out the required ablution runs the risk of bringing some foreign, and presumably dangerous, spirit with him.

The Ears.

And so with the ears, which are believed to communicate direct with the brain, and are kept by the rustic carefully muffled up on chilly mornings. Hence the custom of Kanchhedan, or ear-piercing, which is in Northern India about the only survival of the world-wide rite of mutilation when males attain puberty, and of wearing ear-rings and similar ornaments, which is habitual with all classes of Hindus, and specialized among the Kanphata Jogis, who take their name from this practice.

Varieties of Bhûts.

In Bengal the ordinary Bhût is a member of the Kshatriya, Vaisya, or Sûdra class. The Brâhman Bhût, or Brahmadaitya, is quite another variety. The ordinary Bhûts are as tall as palmyra trees, generally thin and very black. They usually live on trees, except those which the Brahmadaitya frequent. At night, and especially at the hour of midnight, they wander about the fields frightening travellers. They prefer dirty places to those which are clean; so when a person goes to worship a Bhût, he does so in some dirty, retired place, and gives him only half-cooked food, so that he may not have time to gobble it up, and perchance rend his worshipper. They are never seen in the temples of the gods, though they often, as we have seen, lurk about in the vicinity in the hope of getting some of the offerings if the priest be not on the alert and scare them with his bell or shell-trumpet. They are always stark naked, and are fond of women, whom they sometimes abduct. They eat rice, and all sorts of human food, but their favourite diet is fish. Hence no Bengâli, except for a considerable bribe, will talk about fish at night. Here they agree with the fairies of Manxland. Professor Rhys [492] tells a story of a Manx fisherman, who was taking a fresh fish home, and was pursued by a pack of fairy dogs, so that it was only with great trouble he reached his own door. He drove the dogs away with a stone, but he was shot by the fairies, and had a narrow escape of his life. On the other hand, the Small People in Cornwall hate the smell of fish as much as the savour of salt or grease. [493] The best chance of escape from these Bengal Bhûts is when they begin to quarrel among themselves. A person beset by them should invoke the gods and goddesses, especially Kâlî, Durgâ, and Siva, the last of whom is, as already noted, the Lord of Bhûts. [494]

Bhûts are of many varieties. Vetâla, or Baitâl, their leader, is familiar to everyone in the tales of the Baitâl Pachîsi. He is not, as a rule, particularly offensive. More usually he is a vagrant Bhût which enters the body of a man when the real spirit is absent. But he often approximates to the Vampire as we meet him in Western folk-lore. "It is as a vitalized corpse that the visitor from the other world comes to trouble mankind, often subject to human appetites, constantly endowed with more than human strength and malignity." [495] Thus in one of Somadeva's stories the hero goes at night to a cemetery and summons at the foot of a tree a Vetâla into the body of a man, and after worshipping him, makes an oblation of human flesh to him. In another there is a Vetâla with a body made up of the limbs of many animals, who hurls the king to the earth, and when he sits on the Vetâla's back the demon flies with him through the air like a bird and flings him into the sea. [496] The spirit entering the body of the dead man forms the leading incident in the tale of Fadlallah in the Arabian Nights, and there are many instances of it in Indian folk-lore. This disposes of the assertion which has been sometimes made that among races which bury their dead little is known of regular corpse spectres, or that they are special to lands tenanted or influenced by the Slavonians. [497] Most usually the Vetâla appears as the spirit of some living person dissatisfied with his lodgings on earth, which leaves his own body and occupies a corpse in preference. He, in company with the Vasus, Yakshas, Bhûtas, and Gandharvas, has passed into the degraded Tantrika worship. [498]

The Pret.

The Hindu notion of the state of the soul between death and the performance of the prescribed funeral rites agrees exactly with that of the older European races. They wandered about in a state of unhappy restlessness, and were not suffered to mix with the other dead. The term Pret or Preta, which simply means "deceased" or "departed," represents the soul during this time. It wanders round its original home, and, like the Bâlakhilyas, who surround the chariot of the sun, is no larger than a man's thumb. The stages of his progress, according to the best authorities, are that up to the performance of the ten Pindas the dead man remains a Preta, through the Nârâyanabali rite he becomes a Pisâcha, and by the Sapindikarana he reaches the dignity of the Pitri or sainted dead. The term Preta is, however, sometimes applied to the spirit of a deformed or crippled person, or one defective in some limb or organ, or of a child who dies prematurely owing to the omission of the prescribed ceremonies during the formation of the embryo. Here it may be noted that there are indications in India of the belief which is common among savages, that young children, apparently in consequence of their incomplete protection from the birth impurity, are under a taboo. Thus in India a child is regarded as a Bhût until the birth hair is cut. Some of the jungle tribes believe that it is unnecessary to protect a child from evil spirits until it begins to eat grain, because up to that time it is nothing more than a Bhût itself. Under the old ritual a child under two years of age was not burnt, but buried, and no offering of water was made to it. We are familiar with the same idea in England regarding unbaptized children, whose spirits are supposed to be responsible for the noise of Gabriel's Hounds in the sky, really caused by the bean geese in their southern flight.

The Pret is occasionally under provocation malignant, but as it partakes to some degree of the functions of the benign ancestral household spirit, it is not necessarily malicious or evil-disposed towards living persons. The Pret is specially worshipped at Gaya on the Hill, known as Pretsila, or "the rock of the Pret," and a special class of Brâhmans at Patna call themselves Pretiya, because they worship the ghost of some hero or saint. [499]

The Pisâcha.

Next comes the Pisâcha, which, as we have seen, is by one account only a stage in the progress of the soul to its final rest. But more properly speaking it is an evil spirit produced by a man's vices, the ghost of a liar, adulterer, or criminal of any kind, or of one who has died insane. But his attributes and functions are not very clearly defined, and he merges into the general class of Bhûts. In some cases he seems to have the power to cure disease. Thus we read in Somadeva, "Rise up in the last watch of the night, and with dishevelled hair, and naked, and without rinsing your mouth, take two handfuls of rice as large as you can grasp with the two hands, and, uttering a form of words, go to a place where four roads meet and there place the two handfuls of rice, and return in silence without looking behind you. Do so always until that Pisâcha appears and says, 'I will put an end to your ailment.' Then receive his aid gladly, and he will remove your complaint." [500]

The Râkshasa.

The Râkshasa again, a word that means "the harmer" or "the destroyer," is of the ogre-vampire type. He goes about at night, haunts cemeteries, disturbs sacrifices and devout men, animates dead bodies, even devouring human beings, in which capacity he is known as Kravyâda, or carnivorous, and is generally hostile to the human race. He is emphatically a devourer of human flesh, and eats carrion. He is often represented in the folk-tales as having a pretty daughter, who protects the hero when he ventures perchance into the abode of the monster. Her father comes in, and with the cry of "Manush gandha," which is equivalent to the "Fee! fo! fum! I smell the blood of an Englishman!" of the Western tale, searches about, but fails to find him. When Hanumân entered the city of Lanka in the form of a cat, to reconnoitre, he saw that the Râkshasas who slept in the house "were of every shape and form. Some of them disgusted the eye, while some were beautiful to look on. Some had long arms and frightful shapes; some were very fat and some were very lean; some were dwarf and some were prodigiously tall. Some had only one eye, and others had only one ear. Some had monstrous bellies, hanging breasts, long projecting teeth, and crooked thighs; whilst others were exceedingly beautiful to behold and clothed in great splendour. Some had the heads of serpents, some the heads of asses, some of horses, and some of elephants." The leader of them was Râvana, who is said to have been once a Brâhman and to have been turned into a Râkshasa, "with twenty arms, copper-coloured eyes, and bright teeth like the young moon. His form was as a thick cloud or as a mountain, or the god of death with open mouth."

The Râkshasa is the great Deus ex machinâ of folk-lore. He can change into almost any form he pleases, his breath is a roaring wind; he can lengthen his arms to eighty miles; he can smell out human beings like Giant Blunderbore. He can carry a man leagues through the air; if his head be cut off, it grows again. He is the Eastern type of the monster dragon which is subdued by St. George, Siegmund, Siegfried, or Beowulf.

His spouse, the Râkshasî, is a creature of much the same kind. In the folk-tales she often takes the form of the ogress queen who marries the king and gets up at night and devours an elephant, or two or three horses, or some sheep or a camel, and then puts the blood and scraps of meat at the doors of her rivals, and gets them banished, until the clever lad discovers her wiles and brings her to condign punishment. [501] Often she besets a city and demands the daily tribute of a human victim. The king takes the place of the victim, and the Râkshasî is so affected by his generosity that she abandons eating the flesh of men. In a case in the folk-tales a boy becomes a Râkshasa by eating the brains of a corpse. [502] Like all other demons, Râkshasas are scared by light, and one of the names of the lamp is Râkshogna, or "the destroyer of the Râkshasas."

The idea of the Râkshasa comes from the earliest times. Some have thought them to be types of the early Drâvidian opponents of the Hindus. Nirritî, the female personification of death, is a Râkshasa deity in the Vedas, and Dr. Muir has traced the various stages by which the Râkshasa was developed into a godling. [503] Thus, in the Mahâbhârata, Jarâ is called a household goddess; the great King Jarasandha was born in two halves, and Jarâ united them; she is always represented as seeking to requite by benefits the worship which is paid to her. Manu prescribes a special oblation for "the spirits which walk in darkness." The blood in the sacrifice is, according to the old ritual, offered to them, though even here we notice the transition from animal to corn offerings. [504]

Nowadays Râkshasas live in trees and cause vomiting and indigestion to those who trespass on their domains at night. They mislead night travellers like Will-o'-the-Wisp, and they are always greedy and in quest of food. So, if a man is eating by lamp-light and the light goes out, he will cover the dish with his hands, which are, as we have already seen, scarers of demons, to preserve the food from the Râkshasa, and Bengal women go at night with a lamp into every room to expel the evil spirits. [505]

The Râkshasas are said to be always fighting with the gods and their blood remains on many of these ghostly battlefields. In the Hills this is believed to be the cause of the red ferruginous clay which is occasionally observed, and the Lohû or "blood-red" river has a similar origin. [506] The same idea appears in the folk-lore of Europe. In a Swabian legend the red colour of shoots of rye when they first appear above the surface is attributed to Cain having killed Abel in a rye-field, which thus became reddened with innocent blood. [507] One species of feathered pink has a dark purple spot in it which people in Germany say is a drop of the blood of the Redeemer which fell from the Cross. [508] In one of the Irish Sagas the blood of a murdered man fell on a white stone and formed the red veins which are still shown to the traveller. [509] In Cornwall a red stain on the rocks marks where giant Bolster died, and the red lichen in a brook commemorates a murder. [510] Every English child knows the legend of Robin Redbreast.

In folk-lore Râkshasas have kingdoms, and possess enormous riches, which they bestow on those whom they favour, like Târâ Bâî in the story of Seventee Bâî. In this they resemble the Irish fairies, who hide away much treasure in their palaces underneath the hills and in the lakes and sea. "All the treasure of wrecked ships is theirs; and all the gold that men have hidden or buried in the earth when danger was on them, and then died and left no sign to their descendants. And all the gold of the mine and the jewels of the rocks belong to them, and in the Sifra or fairy house the walls are silver and the pavement is gold, and the banquet hall is lit by the diamonds that stud the rocks." [511]

The finger nails of the Râkshasas, as those of Europeans in popular belief, are a deadly poison, and the touch of them produces insensibility, or even death. They often take the disguise of old women and have very long hair, which is a potent charm. Their malignity is so great that it would be difficult to avoid them, but fortunately, like the Devil in the European tales, and evil spirits all the world over, they are usually fools, and readily disclose the secrets of their enchantment to the distressed heroine who is unlucky enough to fall into their power, and the victim has generally only to address the monster as "Uncle!" to escape from his clutches. [512]

They are, as has been said already, usually cannibals. One of these was Vaka in the Mahâbhârata, who lived at Ekachakra and levied a daily toll of food and human victims on the Râja till he was torn to pieces by Bhîma. Bhîma also contrived to kill another monster of the same kind named Hidimba. In the great Panjâb legend of Rasâlu, he conquers the seven Râkshasas, who used to eat a human being every day, and there is a Nepâl story of the Râkshasa Gurung Mâpa, who used to eat corpses. He was propitiated with a grant of land to live on and an annual offering of a buffalo and some rice. [513]

Power of Lengthening Themselves.

All ghosts, as we shall see later on, have the power of lengthening themselves like the Naugaza, whom we have already mentioned. For this reason demons, as a rule, are of gigantic form, and many of the enormous fossil bones found in the Siwâlik Hills were confidently attributed to the Râkshasas, which reminds us of the story of the smith in Herodotus who found the gigantic coffin seven cubits long containing the bones of Orestes. [514]

Night Spirits.

Like the ghost in Hamlet, the angel that visited Jacob, and the destroying angels of Sodom, the Râkshasas always fly before the dawn. They invariably travel through the air and keep their souls in birds or trees--a fertile element in folk-lore which has been called by Major Temple "The Life Index." [515]

Râkshasas as Builders.

The tales of Western lands abound with instances of buildings, bridges, etc., constructed by the Devil. So the Indian Râkshasa is commonly regarded as an architect. Thus, at Râmtek in the Central Provinces there is a curious old temple built of hewn stones, well fitted together without mortar. From its shape and structure it is probably of Jaina origin, though local tradition connects it with the name of Hemâdpant, the Râkshasa. He is an example of Râkshasas developed in comparatively recent times from a historical personage. He was probably the Minister of Mahâdeva (1260-1271 A.D.), the fourth of the Yâdava Kings of Deogiri. According to the common story, he was a giant or a physician, who brought the current Marâthi character from Ceylon. The Dakkhin swarms with ancient buildings attributed to him. [516]

Such is also the case with another class of demons, the Asuras, a word which means "spiritual" or "superhuman," who were the rivals of the gods. In Mirzapur the ancient embankment at the Karsota tank is considered to be their work. Once upon a time two of these demons vowed that whoever first succeeded in building a fort should be the conqueror, and that his defeated rival should lose his life. So they set to work in the evening, one on the Bijaygarh Hill, and the other on the opposite peak of Kundakot, about twelve miles distant. The demon of Bijaygarh, having lost his tools in the dark, struck a light to search for them. His adversary seeing the light, and imagining that the sun was rising and his rival's work completed, fled precipitously. The Bijaygarh fort was completed during the night and stands to the present day, while on Kundakot you see only a few enormous blocks of stone which was all the vanquished Asura had time to collect. The tales of demons interfering with the construction of buildings are common in European folk-lore.

Many other buildings are said to have been built in the same way. The Bârahkhamba at Shikârpur in the Bulandshahr District was built by demons; Baliya in Pilibhît was the work of Bali, the Daitya; the demon Loha or Lohajangha built Lohâban in Mathura. [517] In the same way the Cornish giants built chiefly in granite, and the Hack and Cast embankment was constructed by them. [518] In Patna the Asura Jarâsandha is the reputed builder of an enormous embankment which is called Asuren after him, and another demon of the same class is said to be the architect of an ancient fortification in Puraniya. [519]

Many buildings, again, are attributed to personages who succeeded in getting an Asura under their influence, and being obliged to find work for him, compelled him to occupy his time in architecture. In the "Lay of the Last Minstrel" Michael Scott got out of the dilemma by making the demons twist ropes of sand, and the same tale is told of Tregeagle in Cornwall. [520]

Modern Râkshasas.

Râkshasas are developed even in these prosaic days of ours. In the folk-tales many human beings lie under the well-founded suspicion of being Asuras or Râkshasas. [521] The ghost of some Musalmâns is believed by some Hindus to become a most malignant Râkshasa. Such a ghost is conciliated by being addressed by the euphemistic title of Mamduh, "the praised one." Visaladeva, the famous King of Ajmer, was turned into a Râkshasa on account of his oppression of his subjects, in which condition he resumed the evil work of his earthly existence, "devouring his subjects," until one of his grandchildren offered himself as a victim to appease his hitherto insatiable appetite. "The language of innocent affection," says Col. Tod, "made its way to the heart of the Râkshasa, who recognized his offspring, and winged his flight to the Jumnâ." [522]

Young men who are obliged to travel at night have reason to be cautious of the Râkshasî, as well as of the Churel, with whom she is occasionally identified. She takes the form of a lovely woman and lures her victims to destruction.

Brâhman Ghosts.

We have already mentioned the Brahm or malignant Brâhman ghost. These often develop into Râkshasas, and are a particularly dangerous species. Thus the sept of Gaur Râjputs are haunted by the Râkshasa or ghost of the Brâhman Mansa Râm, who, on account of the tyranny of the Râja Tej Sinh, committed suicide. He lives in a tree in a fort in the Sîtapur District, and no marriage or any other important business in the family of the Râja is undertaken until he has been duly propitiated. [523] So, at the mound of Bilsar in the Etah District, there lived a Râja whose house overlooked that of a Brâhman named Pûran Mall. The Brâhman asked the Râja to change the position of his sitting-room, as it was inconvenient to the ladies of his family, and when the request was refused, poisoned himself with a dose of opium. His body turned blue like indigo, and he became a most malignant demon or Bîr, known as the Brahm Râkshasa, which caused the death of the Râja and his family, and forced his successors to remove to a distance from their original family residence.

The Deo.

Closely connected with the Râkshasas are various classes of demons, known as Deo, Dâno, or Bîr. The Deo is a survival of the Devas or "shining ones" of the old mythology. It is another of the terms which have suffered grievous degradation. It was originally applied to the thirty-three great divinities, eleven of which inhabited each of the three worlds. Now the term represents a vague class of the demon-ogre family. The Deo is a cannibal, and were he not exceedingly stupid could do much harm, but in the folk-tales he is always being deceived in the most silly way. He has long lips, one of which sticks up in the air, while the other hangs down pendant. Like many of his kinsfolk all over the world, he is a potent cause of tempests. [524]

The Bîr.

The Bîr, who takes his name from the Sanskrit Vîra, "hero," is a very malignant village demon. In one of the Mirzapur villages is the shrine of Kharbar Bîr, or "the noisy hero." No one can give any satisfactory account of him, but it is quite certain that if he is not propitiated by the Baiga, he brings disease on men and cattle. Gendâ Bîr, a woman who was tired of life, and, instead of burning herself, threw herself down from a tree, is worshipped at Nâgpur. [525] Kerâr Bîr has, according to the last census returns, thirty-one thousand worshippers in the eastern districts of the North-West Provinces. He is said to have been a demon who resided on the spot where the present fort of Jaunpur now stands. He became such a pest to the country about, that the great Râma Chandra warred against him and overcame him. His head and limbs he flung to the four corners of heaven, and his trunk in the form of a shapeless mass of stone remains as a memorial and is worshipped. Some allege that he was really some hero of the aboriginal Bhar race who fell in battle with the Aryan. It is also alleged that when the British engineers attempted to blow down the fort their mines failed to disturb the shrine of Kerâr, whose importance has been much increased by this example of his prowess. [526] In Bombay there are seven Bîrs who go about together and scour the fields and gardens at night. [527]

The Dâno.

The Dâno represents the Dânava of the early mythology. Of these there are seven also, and the leader of them is Vritra, who is the ancestor of the dragons and keeps back and steals the heavenly waters, on which account Indra slays him with his thunderbolt. Vala, the cave in which the rain cows are hidden, is called the brother of Vritra. No trace remains now of this beautiful weather myth. The Dâno nowadays is hardly to be distinguished from the Bîr and his brethren, and at Hazâribâgh he is worshipped in the form of a stone daubed with five streaks of red lead and set up outside the house. [528]

The Daitya.

So with the Dait or Daitya, who is connected in nothing but name with the demons of the olden world who warred with the gods. In Mirzapur he lives in a tree; in front he looks like a man, but seen from behind he is quite hollow, only a mere husk without a backbone. In this he resembles the Ellekone of Denmark, who is beautiful in front, but hollow in the back like a kneading trough. [529] So the Hadal or Hedali of Bombay is said to be plump in front and a skeleton behind. [530]

At midnight the Daitya shows himself in his tree in a flash of fire and smoke, and sometimes flies off to another tree a short distance off.

In Mirzapur he is sometimes known as Daitra Bîr and is associated with two others named Akata Bîr and Latora Bîr, all of whom live in trees and go out at night and dance for a while with torches in their hands. They are worshipped with an offering consisting of the Kalsa or holy water-pots and some greens. [531] In one village the Daitya is known as Beohâr Bâba or the "father of merchandise," as he is supposed in some way to guard merchants. Col. Tod describes a place in the table-land of Central India known as Daitya kâ har or "the demon's bone," on which those who are in search of ease jump from above. Although most of the leapers perish, some instances of escape are recorded. The hope of obtaining offspring is said to be the most usual motive for the act. [532] Instances of religious suicides are common. One of the most famous places for this is behind the peak of Kedâr, where the Pândavas devoted themselves and were carried off to heaven. The practice seems to have almost completely ceased under British rule.

The Headless Horseman.

At the present time the most dreaded of these creatures is, perhaps, the Headless Horseman, who is popularly known as Dûnd, or "truncated."

He has many of his kindred in other lands. Sir Francis Drake used to drive a hearse into Plymouth with headless horses and followed by yelling hounds. Coluinn gun Cheann of the Highlands goes about a headless trunk. A coach without horses used to career about the neighbourhood of Listowel when any misfortune was about to take place. A monster in one of the German tales carries about his head under his arm. [533]

By one account the Dûnd took his origin from the wars of the Mahâbhârata. However this may be, he appears periodically in the form of a headless trunk seated on horseback, with his head tied before him on the pommel of the saddle. He makes his rounds at night and calls to the householder from outside; but woe to any one who answers him, for this means death. The belief in these visionary death summonses is very common. The Irish Banshee howls at night and announces death. In Mirzapur, Bâghesar, or the tiger demon, lives on the Churni Hill. He sometimes comes down at night in human form, and calls people by name at their doors. If any one answers him he becomes sick. The Bengâli personifies Nisi or Night as the Homeric Greeks did. [534] She often comes at midnight, calls the house-master, who when he opens the door falls senseless and follows her where she will. Sometimes she takes him into a tank and drowns him, or leads him into a dense forest and drops him among thorns or on the top of some high tree. In fact it is always very dangerous to speak to these spirits or ghosts. Falstaff knew this well when he said, "They are fairies; he that speaks to them shall die."

The Dûnd makes occasional incursions throughout the country. He was in the neighbourhood of Agra in 1882, and some twelve years after appeared in Mirzapur. On both occasions the news of his arrival caused considerable alarm. Every one shut up their houses at sunset, and no one on any consideration would answer a call from outside after nightfall. It was shrewdly suspected at the time that this rumour was