Chapter VI: Some Rural Festivals and Ceremonies (1)

En d' etithei neion malakên pieiran arouran,
Eureian, tripolon· polloi d' apotêres en autê
Zeugea dineuontes elastreon entha kai entha.

Iliad, xviii. 541-43.

The subject of rural festivals is much too extensive for treatment in a limited space. Here reference will be made only to a few of those ceremonies which illustrate the principles recently elucidated from the folk-lore of Europe by Messrs. Frazer, Gomme, and Mannhardt. [783]

The Akhtîj.

The respect paid to ploughing is illustrated by the early Vedic legend of Sîtâ, who, like the Etruscan Tago, sprung from a furrow. [784] It is only in a later development of the story that she becomes the daughter of Janaka, and wife of Râma Chandra.

The agricultural year in Northern India begins with the ceremony of the Akhtîj, "the undecaying third," which is celebrated on the third day of the light fortnight in the month of Baisâkh, or May. In the North-Western Provinces the cultivator first fees his Pandit to select an auspicious hour on that day for the commencement of ploughing. In most places he does not begin till 3 p.m.; in Mirzapur the time fixed is usually during the night, as secrecy is in most of these rural ceremonies an important part of the ritual.

In Rohilkhand the cultivator goes at daybreak to one of his fields, which must be of a square or oblong shape. He takes with him a brass drinking vessel of water, a branch of the Mango tree, both of which are, as we have seen, efficacious in scaring spirits, and a spade. The object of the rite is to propitiate Prithivî, "the broad world," as contrasted with Dhartî Mâî, or "Mother Earth," and Sesha Nâga, the great snake which supports the world. Whenever Sesha yawns he causes an earthquake.

The Pandit first makes certain observations by which he is able to determine in which direction the snake happens at the time to be lying, because, in order to ease himself of his burden, he moves about beneath the world, and lies, sometimes north and south, north-west and south-east, and so on. This imaginary line having been marked off, the peasant digs up five clods of earth with his spade. This is a lucky number, as it is a quarter more than four. Hence Sawâi, or one and a quarter, has been taken as one of the titles of the Mahârâja of Jaypur. He then sprinkles water five times into the trench with the branch of the sacred mango. The object of this is by a form of sympathetic magic to ensure the productiveness of the crop, and scare the demons of evil which would injure it. In Bombay, at the beginning of the sowing season, a cocoanut is broken and thrown at each side of the plough, so that the soil spirits may leave and make room for Lakshmî, the goddess of prosperity, who is represented by the plough. [785] During all these proceedings the peasant watches the omens most carefully, and if anything inauspicious happens, the ceremony must be discontinued and recommenced at a luckier hour later on in the day. When he gets home, some woman of the family, who must not be a widow, who is naturally considered unlucky, presents him with curds and silver for good luck. He then stays all day in the house, rests, and does no work, and does not even go to sleep. He avoids quarrels and disputes of all kinds, and on that day will give neither grain nor money, nor fire to any one. [786] Next day he eats sweet food and balls of wheaten flour, toasted with curds and sugar, but carefully abstains from salt.

These usages have parallels in the customs of other lands. Thus, the rule against giving fire on the sowing day prevailed in Rome, and is still observed in the rural parts of England. In Iceland and the Isle of Man it is believed that fire and salt are the most sacred things given to man, and if you give them away on May Day you give away your luck for the year; no one will give fire from a house while an unbaptized baby is in it. [787]

In Râjputâna the custom is less elaborate. The first day of ploughing after the rains begin is known as the Halsotiya festival. Omens being favourable, the villagers proceed to the fields, each household carrying a new earthen pot, coloured with turmeric, the virtues of which have been already explained, and full of Bâjra millet. Looking to the north, the home of the gods, they make an obeisance to the earth, and then a selected man ploughs five furrows. The ploughman's hands and the bullock's hoofs are rubbed with henna, and the former receives a dinner of delicacies. [788]

In Mirzapur, only the northern part of the field, that facing the Himâlaya is dug up in five places with a piece of mango wood. The peasant, when he goes home, eats rich food, and abstains from quarrels.

All over the country the people seem to be becoming less careful about these observances. Some, without consulting a Pandit at all, go early to the field on the morning after the Holî fire is lighted, scratch the ground with a ploughshare, and on their return eat cakes and sweetmeats. Others, on the first day after the Holî, when they hear the voice of the Koil, or Indian cuckoo at twilight, go in silence to the field and make a few scratches. [789]

Among the Drâvidian Hill tribes of Mirzapur, the ceremony seems to be merely a formal propitiation of the village godlings. Among the Korwas, before ploughing commences, the Baiga makes an offering of butter and molasses in his own field. This he burns in the name of the village godlings, and does a special sacrifice at their shrine. After this ploughing commences. The Kharwârs, before sowing, take five handfuls of grain from the sowing basket, and pray to Dhartî Mâtâ, the earth goddess, to be propitious. They keep the grain, grind it, and offer it at her annual festival in the month of Sâwan or August. The Pankas only do a burnt offering through the Baiga, and offer up cakes and other food, known as Nêuj. Before the spring sowing, a general offering of five cocks is made to the village godlings by the Baiga, who consumes the sacrifice himself. All these people do not commence agricultural work till the Baiga starts work in his own field, and they prefer to do this on Monday.

In Hoshangâbâd the ceremony is somewhat different. The ploughing is usually begun by the landlord, and all the cultivators collect and assist at the ceremony in his field before they go on to their own. "It is the custom for him to take a rupee and fasten it up in the leaf of the Palâsa tree with a thorn. He also folds up several empty leaves in the same way and covers them all with a heap of leaves. When he has done worship to the plough and bullocks, he yokes them and drives them through the heap, and all the cultivators then scramble for the leaf which contains the rupee. They then each plough their fields a little, and returning in a body, they are met by the daughter or sister of the landlord, who comes out to meet them with a brass vessel full of water, a light in one hand and the wheaten cakes in the other. The landlord and each of the cultivators of his caste put a rupee into her water vessel and take a bit of the cake, which they put on their heads. On the same day an earthen jar full of water is taken by each cultivator to his threshing-floor, and placed to stand on four lumps of earth, each of which bears the name of one of the four months of the rainy season. Next morning as many lumps as are wetted by the leaking of the water jar (which is very porous and always leaks), so many months of rain will there be, and the cultivator makes his arrangements for the sowing accordingly." [790]

In the Himâlaya, again, there is a different ritual: "On the day fixed for the commencement of ploughing the ceremony known as Kudkhyo and Halkhyo takes place. The Kudkhyo takes place in the morning or evening, and begins by lighting a lamp before the household deity and offering rice, flowers, and balls made of turmeric, borax, and lemon juice. The conch is then sounded, and the owner of the field or relative whose lucky day it is, takes three or four pounds of seed-grain from a basin and carries it to the edge of the field prepared for its reception. He then scrapes a portion of the earth with a mattock, and sows a part of the seed. One to five lamps are placed on the ground, and the surplus seed is given away. At the Halkhyo ceremony, the balls as above described are placed on the ploughman, plough, and plough cattle; four or five furrows are ploughed and sown, and the farm servants are fed." [791] This custom of giving away what remains of the seed-grain to labourers and beggars prevails generally throughout Northern India.

A curious rite is performed in Kulu at the rice planting. "Each family in turn keeps open house. The neighbours, men and women, collect at the rice-fields. As soon as a field is ready, the women enter it in line, each with a bundle of young rice in her hands, and advance dabbing the young plants into the slush as they go. The mistress of the house and her daughters, dressed in their gayest, take their stand in front of the line, and supply more bundles of plants as they are wanted. The women sing in chorus as they work; impromptu verses are often put in, which occasion a great deal of laughter. Two or three musicians are generally entertained by the master of the house, who also supplies food and drink of his best for the whole party. The day's work often ends with a tremendous romp, in which every one throws mud at his neighbours, or tries to give him or her a roll in it. No such ceremony is observed in sowing other crops, rice having been formerly, in all probability, the most important crop. It is also the custom to make a rude image of a man in dough and to throw it away as a sacrifice to the Ishta Deotâ or household deity." [792] This can hardly be anything but a survival of an actual sacrifice to appease the field godlings at sowing time. The rude horseplay which goes on is like that at the Saturnalia and on the English Plough Monday.

Going on to the Drâvidian races, the Mundas have a feast in May at the time of sowing for the first rice crop. "It is held in honour of the ancestral shades and other spirits, who, if unpropitiated, would prevent the seed from germinating. A he-goat and a cock are sacrificed." Again in June they have a festival to propitiate the local gods, that they may bless the crops. "In the Mundâri villages everyone plants a branch of the Bel tree in his land, and contributes to the general offering, which is made by the priest in the sacred grove, a fowl, a pitcher of beer, and a handful of rice." In July, again, each cultivator sacrifices a fowl, and after some mysterious rites, a wing is stripped off and inserted in a cleft of a bamboo, and stuck up in the rice-field or dung-heap. If this is omitted, the rice crop, it is supposed, will not come to maturity. It appears more like a charm than a sacrifice. Among the Kols of Chota Nâgpur, there is a special dance, "the women follow the men and change their attitudes and positions in obedience to signals from them." In one special figure "the women all kneel and pat the ground with their hands, in tune of music, as if coaxing the earth to be fertile." [793]

Prohibition of Ploughing.

A clergyman in Devonshire informed Brand that the old farmers in his parish called the three first days of March "Blind Days," which were anciently considered unlucky, and on them no farmer would sow his seed. [794]

In Northern India there are certain days on which ploughing is forbidden, such as the Nâgpanchamî or snake feast held on the fifth of the light half of Sâwan, and the fifteenth of the month Kârttik. Turning up the soil on such days disturbs Seshanâga, the great world serpent and Mother Earth. But Mother Earth is also supposed to sleep on six days in every month--the 5th, 7th, 9th, 11th, 21st, and 24th; or, as others say, the 1st, 2nd, 5th, 7th, 10th, 21st, and 24th. On such days it is inadvisable to plough if it can be possibly avoided. The fifteen days in the month of Kuâr which are devoted to the worship of the Pitri or sainted dead, are also an inauspicious time for agricultural work.

All these ceremonies at the commencement of the agricultural season remind us in many ways of the observance of the festivals of Plough Monday and similar customs in rural England. [795]

The Rakshabandhan and Jâyî Festivals.

We have already noticed the use of the knotted cord or string as an amulet. On the full moon of Sâwan is held the Salono or Rakshabandhan festival, when women tie these amulets round the wrists of their friends. Connected with this is what is known as the barley feast, the Jâyî or Jawâra of Upper India, and the Bhujariya of the Central Provinces. It is supposed to be connected in some way with the famous story of Alha and Udal, which forms the subject of a very popular local epic. They were Râjputs of the Banâphar clan, and led the Chandels in their famous campaign against the Râhtaurs of Kanauj, which immediately preceded, and in fact led up to, the Muhammadan conquest of Northern India. [796]

In connection with this simple rural feast, a most elaborate ritual has been prescribed under Brâhmanical influence, but all that is usually done is that on the seventh day of the light half of Sâwan, grains of barley are sown in a pot of manure, and spring up so rapidly that by the end of the month the vessel is full of long, yellowish-green stalks. On the first day of the next month, Bhâdon, the women and girls take these out, throw the earth and manure into water, and distribute the plants to their male friends, who bind them in their turbans and about their dress. [797]

We have already come across an instance of a similar practice among the Kharwârs at the Karama festival, and numerous examples of the same have been collected by Mr. Frazer. [798] Thus, "in various parts of Italy and all over Sicily it is still customary to put plants in water or in earth on the Eve of St. John, and from the manner in which they are found to be blooming or faded on St. John's Day omens are drawn, especially as to fortune in love. In Prussia two hundred years ago the farmers used to send out their servants, especially their maids, to gather St. John's wort on Midsummer Eve or Midsummer Day. When they had fetched it, the farmer took as many plants as there were persons and stuck them on the wall or between the beams; and it was thought that the person whose plant did not bloom would soon fall sick or die. The rest of the plants were tied in a bundle, fastened to the end of a pole, and set up at the gate or wherever the corn would be brought in at the next harvest. This bundle was called Kupole, the ceremony was known as Kupole's festival, and at it the farmer prayed for a good crop of hay, etc."

We have the same idea in the English rural custom of "wearing the rose." There can be no reasonable doubt that all these rites were intended to propitiate the spirit of vegetation and promote the germination and growth of the next crop. [799]

The Diwâlî, or Feast of Lamps.

The regular Diwâlî, or Feast of Lamps, which is performed on the last day of the dark fortnight in the month of Kârttik, is more of a city than a rural festival. But even in the villages everyone burns a lamp outside the house on that night.

The feast has, of course, been provided with an appropriate legend. Once upon a time an astrologer foretold to a Râja that on the new moon of Kârttik his Kâl, or fate, would appear at midnight in the form of a snake; that the way to avoid this was that he should order all his subjects on that night to keep their houses, streets, and lanes clean; that there should be a general illumination; that the king, too, should place a lamp at his door, and at the four corners of his couch, and sprinkle rice and sweetmeats everywhere.

If the door-lamp went out it was foretold that he would become insensible, and that he was to tell his Rânî to sing the praises of the snake when it arrived. These instructions were carefully carried out, and the snake was so pleased with his reception, that he told the Rânî to ask any boon she pleased. She asked for long life for her husband. The snake replied that it was out of his power to grant this, but that he would make arrangements with Yamarâja, the lord of the dead, for the escape of her husband, and that she was to continue to watch his body.

Then the snake carried off the spirit of the king to Yamarâja. When the papers of the king's life were produced before Yamarâja his age was denoted by a cipher, but the kindly snake put a seven before it, and thus raised his age to seventy years. Then Yamarâja said: "I find that this person has still seventy years to live. Take him back at once." So the snake brought back the soul of the king, and he revived and lived for seventy years more, and established this feast in honour of the event. Much the same idea appears in one of Grimm's German tales. [800]

The original basis of the feast seems to have been the idea that on this night the spirits of the dead revisit their homes, which are cleaned and lighted for their reception. Now it is chiefly observed in honour of Lakshmî, the goddess of wealth and good luck, who is propitiated by gambling. On this night the women make what is called "the new moon lampblack" (Amâwas Kâ Kâjal), which is used throughout the following year as a charm against the Evil Eye, and, as we have already seen, the symbolical expulsion of poverty goes on.

Immediately following this festival is the Bhaiyya Dûj, or "Brothers' second," when sisters make a mark on the foreheads of their brothers and cause them to eat five grains of gram. These must be swallowed whole, not chewed, and bring length of days. The sister then makes her brother sit facing the east, and feeds him with sweetmeats, in return for which he gives her a present.

The Govardhan.

Following the Diwâlî comes what is known as the Govardhan, or Godhan, which is a purely rural feast. In parts of the North-Western Provinces, the women, on a platform outside the house, make a little hut of mud and images of Gaurî and Ganesa; there they place the parched grain which the girls offered on the night of the Diwâlî; near it they lay some thorny grass, wave a rice pounder round the hut, and invoke blessings on their relations and friends. This is also a cattle feast, and cowherds come round half drunk and collect presents from their employers. They sing, "May this house grow as the sugar-cane grows, as Ganga increases at the sacred confluence of Prayâg!"

In the Panjâb "the women make a Govardhan of cowdung, which consists of Krishna lying on his back surrounded with little cottage loaves of dung to represent mountains, in which are stuck stems of grass with tufts of cotton or rag on the top for trees, and by little dung balls for cattle, watched by dung men dressed in little bits of rag. Another opinion is that the cottage loaves are cattle, and the dung balls calves. On this they put the churn-staff, five white sugar-canes, some parched rice, and a lamp in the middle. The cowherds are then called in, and they salute the whole, and are fed with rice and sweets. The Brâhman then takes the sugar-cane and eats a bit, and till then no one must eat, cut, or press cane. Rice-milk is then given to the Brâhmans, and the bullocks have their horns dyed and are extra well fed." [801]

The Emperor Akbar, we are told, used to join in this festival. [802]

The custom in Cawnpur, known as the Dâng, or "Club," Diwâlî is very similar. The cowherds worship Govardhan in the form of a little heap of cowdung decorated with cotton, and go round to the houses of the persons whose cattle they graze, dance to the music of two sticks beaten together and a drum played by a Hindu weaver, and get presents of grain, cloth, or money. [803]

Cattle Festivals.

There are a number of similar usages in various parts of the country solemnized with the object of protecting the herds. Thus in Hoshangâbâd they have the rite of frightening the cattle. "Everyone keeps awake all night, and the herdsmen go out begging in a body, singing, and keeping the cattle from sleeping. In the morning they are all stamped with the hand dipped in yellow paint for the white ones, and white paint for the red ones, and strings of cowries or peacocks' feathers are tied to their horns. Then they are driven out with wild whoops or yells, and the herdsman standing at the doorway smashes an earthen water jar on the last. The neck of this is placed on the gateway leading to the cattle sheds, and preserves them from the Evil Eye. In the afternoon the cattle are all collected together, and the Parihâr priest sprinkles them with water, after which they are secure from all possible evil." [804]

This reminds us of the custom of Manx cattle dealers, who drive their herd through fire on May Day, so as to singe them a little, and preserve them from harm. [805] The same was probably the origin of the bull-running in the town of Stamford of which Brand gives an account. So the Chinese make an effigy of an ox in clay, which after being beaten by the governor, is stoned by the people till they break it in pieces, from which they expect an abundant year.

We have already met with instances where the scape animal merges in a sacrifice. In Garhwâl, at the sacrifice in honour of Devî, the Brâhmans make a circle of flour filled with various sorts of colours. Inside this they sit and repeat sacred verses. Then a male buffalo is made to move round the circle seven times, and everyone throws some holy rice and oats over it. After this the headman of the village strikes it lightly on the back with a sword and makes it run, on which the people follow and hack it to pieces with their swords. [806]

So in Bengal, on the last day of the month Kârttik (October-November) a pig is turned loose among a herd of buffaloes, who are encouraged to gore it to death. The carcase is given to the Dusâdh village menials to eat. The Ahîrs, who practise this strange rite, aver that it has no religious significance, and is merely a sort of popular amusement. They do not themselves partake of any part of the pig. [807] It is plainly a survival of a regular sacrifice, probably intended to promote the fertility of the herds and crops.

Similar customs for the protection of cattle prevail in other parts of the country. Thus, in Mirzapur, at the Diwâlî, a little earthen bell is procured from the village potter, and hung round the necks of the cattle as a protective.

In Berâr, at the Pola festival, the bullocks of the whole village pass in procession under a sacred rope made of twisted grass and covered with mango leaves. The sacred pole of the headman is then borne aloft to the front. He gives the order to advance, and all the bullocks, his own leading the way, file under the rope according to the respective rank of their owners. The villagers vie with each other in having the best decorated and painted bullocks, and large sums are often expended in this way. This rope is supposed to possess the magic power of protecting the cattle from disease and accident. [808]

In Northern India it is a common charm to drive the cattle under a rope fixed over the village cattle path, and among the Drâvidians of Mirzapur, two poles and a cross bar are fixed at the entrance of the village with the same object. The charm is rendered more powerful if a plough beam is sunk in the ground close by.

The custom of the silent tending of cattle has been already mentioned. At the cattle festival in Râjputâna, in the evening the cow is worshipped, the herd having been previously tended. "From this ceremony no rank is excepted; on the preceding day, dedicated to Krishna, prince and peasant all become pastoral attendants of the cow in the form of Prithivî or the Earth." [809] In some places the flowers and other ornaments of the cattle, which they lose in their wild flight, are eagerly picked up and treated as relics bringing good fortune. We have a similar idea in the blessing of cattle in Italy, [810] and this is probably the origin of the observance described by Aubrey, when "in Somersetshire, where the wassaile (which is, I think, Twelfe Eve), the ploughmen have their Twelfe cake, and they go into the ox-house to the cattle, and drink to the ox with the crumpled horn that treads out the corne." [811]

The Sleep of Vishnu.

According to the rural belief, Vishnu sleeps for four months in the year, from the eleventh of the bright half of the month Asârh, the Deosoni Ekâdashî, "the reposing of the god," till the eleventh of the bright half of the month Kârttik, the Deothân, or "god's awakening." So the demon Kumbha Karana in the Râmâyana when he is gorged sleeps for six months. According to Mr. Campbell, [812] during these four months while the god sleeps demons are abroad, and hence there are an unusual number of protective festivals in that period. On the day he retires to rest women mark the house with lines of cowdung as a safeguard, fast during the day, and eat sweetmeats at night. During the four months of the god's rest it is considered unlucky to marry, repair the thatch of a hut, or make the house cots. His rising at the Deothân marks the commencement of the sugar-cane harvest, when the cane mill is marked with red paint, and lamps are lighted upon it. The owner of the crop then does worship in his field, and breaks off some stalks of sugar-cane, which he puts on the boundary. He distributes five canes each to the village Brâhman, blacksmith, carpenter, washerman, and water carrier, and takes five home.

Then on a wooden board about one and a half feet long two figures of Vishnu and his wife Lakshmî are drawn with lines of butter and cowdung. On the board are placed some cotton, lentils, water-nuts, and sweets; a fire sacrifice is offered, and the five canes are placed near the board and tied together at the top. The Sâlagrâma, or stone emblematical of Vishnu, is lifted up, and all sing a rude melody, calling on the god to wake and join the assembly. "Then all move reverently round the emblems, the tops of the cane are broken off and hung on the roof till the Holî, when they are burnt. When the worship has been duly performed, and the officiating Brâhman has declared that the fortunate moment has arrived, the cutting may commence. The whole village is a scene of festivity, and dancing and singing go on frantically. Till this day no Hindu will eat or touch the crop. They believe that even jackals will not eat the cane till then. The real fact is that till then the juice has not properly come up, and the cane is not worth eating. On the first day the cane is cut the owner eats none of it, it would bring him bad luck." [813]

Ceremonies to Avert Blight, etc.

There are various ceremonies intended to save certain crops from the ravages of blight and insects. Blight is very generally attributed to the constant measurement of the soil which goes on during settlement operations, to the irreligious custom of eating beef, or to adultery, or to a demon of the east wind, who can be appeased with prayers and ceremonies. [814] No pious Hindu, if the seed fails, will re-sow his winter crop.

When sugar-cane germinates, the owner of the crop does worship on the next Saturday before noon. On one of the days of the Naurâtrî in the month of Kuâr the cultivator himself, or through his family priest, burns a fire sacrifice in the field and offers prayers. In the month of Kârttik he has a special ceremony to avert a particularly dangerous grub, known as the Sûndi. For this purpose he takes from his house butter, cakes, sweets, and five or six lumps of dough pressed into the shape of a pear, with some clean water. He goes to the field, offers a fire sacrifice, and presents some of the cakes to the field spirit. He then buries one of the lumps of dough at each corner of his field, and, having eaten the rest of the cakes, goes home happy. [815]

When field-mice do injury to the crop the owner goes to a Syâna, or cunning man, who writes a charm, the letters of which he dissolves in water and scatters it over the plants. The ancient Greek farmer was recommended to proceed as follows: "Take a sheet of paper and write on it these words, 'Ye mice here present, I adjure ye that ye injure me not, neither suffer another mouse to injure me. I give you yonder field (specifying the field), but if ever I catch you here again, by the help of the Mother of the gods, I will rend you in seven pieces.' Write this and stick the paper on an unhewn stone in the field where the mice are, taking care to keep the written side uppermost." [816]

General Sleeman gives a case of a cowherd who saw in a vision that the water of the Biyâs river should be taken up in pitchers and conveyed to the fields attacked with blight, but that none of it should be allowed to fall on the ground in the way. On reaching the field a small hole should be made in the bottom of the pitcher so as to keep up a small but steady stream, as the bearer carried it round the border of the field, so that the water might fall in a complete ring except at a small opening which was to be kept dry, so that the demon of the blight could make his escape through it. Crowds of people came to fetch the water, which was not supposed to have any particular virtue except that arising from this revelation. [817]

Scaring of Locusts.

Locusts, one of the great pests of the Indian peasant's life, are scared by shouting, lighting of fires, beating of brass pots, and in particular, by ringing the temple bell. In Sirsa, the Karwa, a flying insect which injures the flower of the Bâjra millet, is expelled by a man taking his sister's son on his shoulder and feeding him with rice-milk while he repeats the following charm: "The nephew has mounted his uncle's shoulder. Go, Karwa, to some other field!" [818]

In the Panjâb a popular legend thus explains the enmity between the starling and the locust. Once upon a time the locusts used to come and destroy the crops as they were ripening. The people prayed to Nârâyana, and he imprisoned them in a deep valley in the Himâlaya, putting the starlings to keep them in confinement. Now and again the locusts try to escape and the starlings promptly put them to death. The legend is probably based on the fact that both the starlings and the locusts come from the Hills, and about the same time. [819]

Another device to scare them is based on the well-known principle of treating with high distinction one or two chosen individuals of the obnoxious species, while the rest are pursued with relentless vigour. "In the East Indian island of Bali, the mice which ravage the rice-fields are caught in great numbers and burnt in the same way that corpses are burnt. But two of the captured mice are allowed to live and receive a little packet of white linen. Then the people bow down before them, as before gods, and let them go." [820] So in Mirzapur the Drâvidian tribes, when a flight of locusts comes, catch one, decorate its head with a spot of red lead, salaam to it, and let it go, when the whole flight immediately departs.

Betel Planting.

When cultivators in the North-Western Provinces sow betel, they cook rice-milk near the plants and offer it to the local godling. They divide the offering, and a little coarse sugar is dedicated to Mahâbîr, the monkey god, which is taken home and distributed among the children. This is known as Jeonâr Pûjâ or "the banquet rite." The Barais, who make a speciality of cultivating the plant, have two godlings of their own, Sokha Bâba, the ghost of some famous magician, and Nâgbeli, the "creeper Nâga," or snake, who is connected with the sinuous growth of the tendrils.

In Bengal, the Baruis, a similar caste, worship their patron goddess on the fourth day of the month Baisâkh with offerings of flowers, rice, sweetmeats, and sandal-wood paste. Some do the Navamî Pûjâ in honour of Ushas, or the Aurora, on the sixth day of the waning moon in Asin. Plantains, rice, sugar, and sweetmeats are placed in the centre of the garden, from which the worshippers retire, but after a little time return, and carrying out the offerings, distribute them among the village children. In Bikrampur, Sunjâî, a form of Bhâgawatî, is worshipped.

They do not employ Brâhmans in the worship, because, they say, a Brâhman was the first cultivator of betel. Through his neglect the plant grew so high that he used his sacred thread to fasten up the tendrils, but as it still shot up faster than he could supply thread, its charge was given to a Kâyasth or writer. Hence it is that a Brâhman cannot enter a betel garden without defilement. [821] In another form of the story, the thread of the Brâhman grew up to the sky and became a betel tendril. So, in a Tartar story, the hop plant originates from the bow-string of a man that had been turned into a bear. [822]

All over India, the betel plant, perhaps on account of the delicacy of its growth, is considered as being very susceptible to demoniacal influence, and a woman or a person in a state of ceremonial pollution is excluded from the nursery. We meet with an instance of the same idea among the Ainos. "They prepare for the fishing by observing rules of ceremonial purity, and when they have gone out to fish the women at home must keep strict silence, or the fish would hear them and disappear. When the first fish is caught he is brought home and passed through a small opening at the end of the hut, but not through the door; for if he were passed through the door, the other fish would certainly see him and disappear." [823]

All these protective measures intended to guard the crop from defilement and demoniacal influence are rather like the old English rule of the young men and girls walking round the corn to bless it on Palm Sunday, an observance which Audley drily remarks in his time "gave many a conception." [824]

Sugar-cane Sowing.

When sugar-cane is being planted, the sower is decorated with silver ornaments, a necklace, flowers, and a red mark is made on his forehead. It is considered a favourable omen if a man on horseback come into the field while the sowing is going on. After the sowing is completed, all the men employed come home to the farmer's house and have a good dinner. [825] All surplus seed is carefully destroyed with fire, as it is believed that the plants grown from it would be worthless and produce only flowers and seed.

In the Panjâb, on the first day of sowing, sweetened rice is brought to the field, the women smear the outside of the vessel with it, and it is then distributed to the workmen. Next morning a woman puts on a necklace and walks round the field, winding thread on a spindle. This forms a sacred circle which repels evil influence from the crop. On the night of the Deothân, when Vishnu wakes from his four months' sleep, lamps are lighted on the cane mill, and it is smeared with daubs of red paint. [826]

Cotton Planting.

When the cotton has sprung up, the owner of the field goes there on Sunday forenoon with some butter, sweetmeats, and cakes. He burns a fire sacrifice, offers up some of the food, and eats the remainder in silence. Here we have another instance of the taboo against speaking, which so commonly appears in these rural ceremonies. [827]

When the cotton comes into flower, some parched rice is taken to the field on a Wednesday or Friday; some is thrown broadcast over the plants, and the rest given to children, the object assigned being that the bolls may swell, as the rice does when parched. Many instances of symbolical or sympathetic magic of the same kind might be collected from the usages of other races. Thus, for instance, in Sumatra, the rice is sown by women, who, in sowing, let their hair hang loose down their back, in order that the rice may grow luxuriantly and have long stalks. [828]

When the cotton is ripe and ready for picking, the women pickers go to the north or east quarters of the field with parched rice and sweetmeats. These directions are, of course, selected with reference to the Himâlaya, the home of the gods, and the rising sun. They pick two or three large pods, and then sit down and pull out the cotton in as long a string as possible without breaking it. They hang these threads on the largest cotton plant they can find in the field, round which they sit, and fill their mouths as full as possible with the parched rice, which they blow out as far as they can in each direction; the idea being, of course, the same as in the ceremony when the plant flowers. A fire offering is made and the picking commences. [829]

The custom in Karnâl is very similar. When the pods open and the cotton is ready for picking, the women go round the field eating rice-milk, the first mouthful of which they spit on the field towards the west. The first cotton picked is exchanged for its weight in salt, which is prayed over and kept in the house till the picking is over, when it is distributed among the members of the household and friends. [830]

The Last Sheaf.

In Hoshangâbâd, when the reaping is nearly over, a small patch of corn is left standing in the last field, and the reapers rest a little. Then they rush at this piece, tear it up, and cast it in the air, shouting victory to their deities, Omkâr Mahârâja, Jhamajî, Râmjî Dâs, or other local godlings according to their persuasions. A sheaf is made of this corn, which is tied to a bamboo, stuck up on the last harvest cart, carried home in triumph, and fastened up at the threshing-floor or to a tree, or on the cattle shed, where its services are essential in averting the Evil Eye. [831]

The same custom prevails in the eastern districts of the North-Western Provinces. Sometimes a little patch in the corner of the field is left untilled as a refuge for the field spirit; sometimes it is sown and the corn reaped with a rush and shout and given to the Baiga as an offering to the local godlings, or distributed among beggars.

This is a most interesting analogue of a branch of European folk-lore which has been copiously illustrated by Mr. Frazer. [832] It is the Devon custom of "Crying the Neck." The last sheaf is the impersonation of the Corn Mother, and is worshipped accordingly. We have met already with the same idea in the reservation of small patches of the original forest for the accommodation of the spirits of the jungle.

First-fruits.

There are many customs connected with the disposal of the first-fruits of the crop. The eating of the new grain is attended with various observances, in which the feeding of Brâhmans and beggars takes a prominent place. In Kângra, the first-fruits of corn, oil, and wine, and the first fleece of the sheep are not indeed actually given, but a symbolical offering is made in their stead. These offerings are made to the Jâk or field spirit to whom reference has already been made. The custom has now reached a later stage, for the local Râja puts the right of receiving the offerings on behalf of the Jâk to public auction. [833]

In the same way at Ladâkh, "the main rafters of the houses are supported by cylindrical or square pillars of wood, the top of which, under the truss, is, in the houses of the peasantry, encircled by a band of straw and ears of wheat, forming a primitive sort of capital. It is the custom, I was told, to consecrate the two or three first handsful of each year's crop to the spirit who presides over agriculture, and these bands are thus deposited. Sometimes rams' horns are added to this decoration." [834]

In Northern India the first pressing of the sugar-cane is attended with special observances. When the work of pressing commences, the first piece of sugar made is presented to friends or beggars, as is the first bowl of the extracted juice, and in the western districts of the North-Western Provinces some is offered in the name of the saint Shaikh Farîd, who from this probably gains his title of Shakkarganj, or "Treasury of sugar."

The Santâls have a harvest-home feast in December, at which the Jag Mânjhi, or headman of the village, entertains the people. The cattle are anointed with oil and daubed over with vermilion, and a share of rice-beer is given to each animal. [835]

Everywhere in treading out the grain the rule that the cattle move round the stake in the course of the sun is rigidly observed.

Ceremonies at Winnowing.

Winnowing is a very serious and solemn operation, not lightly to be commenced without due consultation of the stars.

In Hoshangâbâd, when the village priest has fixed a favourable time, the cultivator, his whole family, and his labourers go to the threshing-floor, taking with them the prescribed articles of worship, such as milk, butter, turmeric, boiled wheat, and various kinds of grain. The threshing-floor stake is washed in water, and these things are offered to it and to the pile of threshed grain. The boiled wheat is scattered about in the hope that the Bhûts or spirits may content themselves with it and not take any of the harvested corn. Then the master stands on a three-legged stool, and taking five basketsful from the threshed heap, winnows them. After winnowing, the grain and chaff are collected again and measured; if the five baskets are turned out full, or anything remains over, it is a good omen. If they cannot fill the baskets, the place where they began winnowing is considered unlucky and it is removed a few yards to another part of the threshing-floor. The five basketsful are presented to a Brâhman, or distributed in the village, not mixed with the rest of the harvest.

Winnowing can then go on as convenient, but one precaution must be taken. As long as winnowing goes on the basket must never be set down on its bottom, but always upside down. If this were not done, the spirits would use the basket to carry off the grain. The day's results are measured generally in the evening. This is done in perfect silence, the measurer sitting with his back to the unlucky quarter of the sky, and tying knots to keep count of the number of the baskets. The spirits rob the grain until it is measured, but when once it has been measured they are afraid of detection. [836]

In the Eastern Panjâb, the clean grain is collected into a heap. Preparatory to measuring, the greatest care has to be observed in the preparation of this heap, or evil spirits will diminish the yield. One man sits facing the north, and places two round balls of cowdung on the ground. Between them he sticks in a plough-coulter, a symbol known as Shâod Mâtâ or "the mother of fertility." A piece of the Âkh or swallow-wort and some Dûb grass are added, and they salute it, saying: "O Mother Shâod! Give the increase! Make our bankers and rulers contented!" The man then carefully hides the image of Shâod from all observers while he covers it up with grain, which the others throw over his head from behind. When it is well covered, they pile the grain upon it, but three times during the process the ceremony of Châng is performed. The man stands to the south of the heap and goes round it towards the west the first and third time, and the reverse way the second time. As he goes round, he has the hand furthest from the heap full of grain, and in the other a winnowing fan, with which he taps the heap. When the heap is finished they sprinkle it with Ganges water, and put a cloth over it till it is time to measure the grain. A line is then drawn on the ground all round the heap, inside which none but the measurer must go. All these operations must be performed in profound silence. [837]

In Bareilly, when the whole of the grain and chaff has been winnowed, all the dressed grain is collected into a heap. "The winnower, with his basket in his right hand, goes from the south towards the west, and then towards the north, till he reaches the pole to which the treading-out cattle have been tethered. He then returns the same way, goes to the east till he reaches the pole, and back again to the south; then he places the basket on the ground and utters some pious ejaculation. Then an iron sickle, a stick of the sacred Kusa grass, and a bit of swallow-wort, with a cake of cowdung in a cleft stick, are placed on the heap, and four cakes of cowdung at the four corners; and a line is traced round it with cowdung. A fire offering is then made, and some butter and coarse sugar are offered as sacrifice. Water is next thrown round the piled grain and the remainder of the sugar distributed to those present." [838]

In the Etah District, the owner of the field places to the north of the pile of grain a threshing-floor rake, a bullock's muzzle, and a rope at a distance of three spans from the piled grain; and between these things and the pile he lays a little offering consisting of a few ears of grain, some leaves of the swallow-wort, and a few flowers. These things are laid on a piece of cowdung. He then covers the pile of grain with a cloth to protect it from thieving Bhûts, and puts in a basket three handfuls of grain as the perquisite of the village priest who lights the Holî fire. Something is also laid by for the village beggars. Then he sprinkles a little grain on the cloth, and fills a basket full of grain which he pours back on the pile as an emblem of increase. He then bows to the gods who live in the northern hills, and mutters a prayer; it is only at this time that he breaks the silence with which the whole ceremony is performed. The cloth is then removed, and the rite is considered complete.

Measurement of Grain.

All these precautions are based on principles which have been already discussed, and we meet in them with the familiar fetishes and demon-scarers, of which we have already quoted instances--the iron implements, the sacred grasses and plants, water and milk, cowdung, the winnowing fan, and so on.

All over Northern India a piece of cowdung, known as Barhâwan, "that which gives the increase," is laid on the piled grain, and a sacred circle is made with fire and water round it. Silence, as we have already seen, is a special element in the worship. All this rests on the idea that until the grain is measured, vagrant Bhûts will steal or destroy it. This is something like the principle of travellers, who keep a cowry or two in their purses, so that thieves may not be able to divine the contents. So, in a Talmudic legend we read, "It is very difficult for devils to obtain money, because men are careful to keep it locked or tied up; and we have no power to take anything that is measured or counted; we are permitted to take only what is free and common." [839]

In the Eastern Panjâb grain must not be measured on the day of the new or full moon, and Saturday is a bad day for it. It must be begun at dawn, or sunset, or midnight, when the Bhûts are otherwise engaged. Four men go inside the enclosure line with a wooden measuring vessel, and no one must come near them till they have finished. They sit facing the north and spread a cloth on the ground. One fills the measure from the heap with the winnowing fan, another empties it on the cloth, substituting an empty one for it. The man who has the measure puts down for every measure filled a small heap of grains of corn, by which the account is kept. Perfect silence must be observed till the whole operation is finished, and especially all counting aloud of the number of measures must be avoided. But when once the grain is measured, it is safe from the Evil Eye; the people are at liberty to quarrel over the division of it. [840]

The same rule of silence often appears in the custom of Europe. Favete linguis was the principle on such occasions in Rome. So in the "Tempest" Prospero says,--

"Hush and be mute,
Or else our spell is marred."

In the Highlands, on New Year's Day, a discreet person is sent to draw a pitcher of water from the ford, which is drunk next day as a charm against the spell of witchcraft, the malignity of Evil Eyes, and the activity of all infernal agency. So the baker who makes the bannocks on Shrove Tuesday must be mute as a stone; the cake on St. Mark's Eve must be made in silence, and the same is the rule on St. Faith's Day. [841]