Chapter I: The Godlings of Nature (2)

In the eastern districts of the North-Western Provinces there is a regular rite common to all the inferior castes that a few days before a wedding the women go in procession to the village clay-pit and fetch from there the sacred earth (matmangara), which is used in making the marriage altar and the fireplace on which the wedding feast is cooked. There are various elements in the ritual which point to a very primitive origin. Thus, one part of the proceedings is that a Chamâr, one of the non-Aryan castes, leads the procession, beating his drum the whole time to scare demons. When the earth has been collected the drum is worshipped and smeared with red lead. There can be little doubt that the drum was one of the very primitive fetishes of the aboriginal races. One, and perhaps about the most primitive, form of it is the Damaru or drum shaped like an hour-glass which accompanies Siva, and next to this comes the Mândar, the sides of which are formed out of earthenware, and which is the first stage in the development of a musical instrument from a vessel covered with some substance which resounds when beaten. This latter form of drum is the national musical instrument of the Central Indian Gonds and their brethren. The Chamâr, again, digs the earth with an affectation of secrecy, which, as we shall see, is indispensable in rites of this class. The mother of the bride or bridegroom veils herself with her sheet, and the digger passes the earth over his left shoulder to a virgin who stands behind him and receives it in a corner of her robe.

Dust, again, which has been trodden on has mystic powers. In the villages you may see little children after an elephant has passed patting the marks of his feet in the dust and singing a song. Among the Kunbis of Kolâba, when the women neighbours come to inspect a newly-born child, they touch the soles of the mother's feet, as if picking some dust off them, wave it over the child, and blow the dust particularly into the air and partly over the baby. [60] In Thâna, when a mother goes out with a young child on her hip, if she cannot get lamp-black to rub between its eyes, she takes dust off her left foot and rubs it on the child's forehead. [61] So we read of the Isle of Man--"If a person endowed with the Evil Eye has just passed by a farmer's herd of cattle, and a calf has suddenly been seized with a serious illness, the farmer hurries after the man with the Evil Eye to get the dust from under his feet. If he objects, he may, as has sometimes been very unceremoniously done, throw him down by force, take off his shoes and scrape off the dust adhering to their soles, and carry it back to throw over the calf. Even that is not always necessary, as it appears to be quite enough if he takes up dust where he of the Evil Eye has just trod." [62]

Earth, again, is regarded as a remedy for disease. I have seen people in Ireland take a pinch of earth from the grave of a priest noted for his piety, and drink it dissolved in water. People suffering from a certain class of disease come to the tomb of the Saint Kadri at Yemnur in Dharwâr and smear their bodies with mud that they may be cured of the disease. [63] There are numerous instances of the use of earth as a poultice and an application for the cure of wounds and sores among the savage tribes of Africa and elsewhere.

It is on much the same principle that among some tribes in India Mother Earth is worshipped as a Kuladevatâ or household goddess and appealed to in times of danger. The Hindu troopers at the battle of Kâmpti, at the crisis of the engagement, took dust from their grooms and threw it over their heads. At Sûrat in 1640, in fear of drought, Brâhmans went about carrying a board with earth on it on their heads. [64] So wrestlers, when they are about to engage in a contest, rub earth on their arms and legs and roll on the ground. As in the classical legend of Antaeus, they believe that they derive strength from the touch of Mother Earth.

The same principle, also, appears to be at the bottom of many similar practices. Thus the Hindu always uses earth to purify his cooking vessels, which he regards with peculiar respect. Mourners of the Jaina creed on going home after a funeral rub their hands with earth and water to remove the death impurity. In his daily bath the pious Hindu rubs a little Ganges mud on his body. The Pârsis cover the parings of their hair and nails with a little earth so that demons may not enter into them. The Muhammadan uses earth for the purpose of purification when water is not procurable. For the same reason the ascetic rubs his body with dust and ashes, which, as we shall see, is a potent scarer of demons. Though here there is possibly another theory at work at the same time. The practice was common to the Greek as well as to the barbarian mysteries, and according to Mr. Lang, "the idea clearly was that by cleaning away the filth plastered over the body was symbolized the pure and free condition of the initiate." [65]

Lastly, it is perhaps on the same principle that many universal burial customs have originated. The Muhammadan phrase for burial is mattî-denâ, "to give earth." The unburied mariner asks Horace for the gift of a little earth. We ourselves consider it a pious duty to throw a little earth on the coffin of a departed friend. The same custom prevails among many Hindu tribes. The Chambhârs of Pûna throw handfuls of earth over the corpse; so do the Halâl-khors; the Lingâyats of Dharwâr follow the same practice. The Bani Isrâils at a funeral stuff a handful of earth into a pillow which is put under the head of the corpse. [66] The same conception was probably the basis of the universal custom of funeral oblations. Even nowadays in Scotland all the milk in the house is poured on the ground at a death, and the same custom is familiar through many Hebrew and Homeric instances. The same idea appears in the custom prevalent in the Middle Ages in Germany, that when a nun renounced the world and became civilly dead her relations threw dust on her arms. [67]

Earth-worship among the Drâvidians.

Among the Drâvidian races of Central India earth-worship prevails widely. In Chota Nâgpur the Orâons celebrate in spring the marriage of the earth. The Dryad of the Sâl tree (Shorea robusta), who controls the rain, is propitiated with a sacrifice of fowls. Flowers of the Sâl tree are taken to the village and carried round from house to house in a basket. The women wash the feet of the priest and do obeisance to him. He dances with them and puts some flowers upon them and upon the house. They first douse him with water as a means of bringing the rain, and then refresh him with beer. [68]

In Hoshangâbâd, when the sowing is over, its completion is celebrated by the Machandrî Pûjâ, or worship of Mother Earth, a ceremony intended to invoke fertility. "Every cultivator does the worship himself, with his family, servants, etc.; no Brâhman need join in it. At the edge of one of his fields intended for the spring harvest, he puts up a little semicircle or three-sided wall of clods about a foot high, meant to represent a hut. This is covered over with green Kâns grass (Imperata spontanea) to represent thatch. At the two ends of the hut two posts of Palâsa wood (Butea frondosa) are erected, with leaves round the head like those which are put up at marriage. They are tied to the thatch with red thread. In the centre of this little house, which is the temple of Machandrî, or Mother Earth, a little fire is made, and milk placed on it to boil in a tiny earthen pot. It is allowed to boil over as a sign of abundance. While this is going on, the ploughmen, who are all collected in a field, drive their bullocks at a trot, striking them wildly; it is the end of the year's labour for the cattle. The cultivator meanwhile offers a little rice, molasses, and saffron to Machandrî, and then makes two tiny holes in the ground to represent granaries; he drops a few grains in and covers them over; this is a symbol of prayer, that his granary may be filled from the produce of the land." Similar instances of symbolical magic will constantly occur in connection with similar rites. Then he puts a little saffron on the foreheads of the ploughman and the bullocks, and ties a red thread round the horns of the cattle. The animals are then let go, and the ploughmen run off at full speed across country, scattering wheat boiled whole as a sign of abundance. This concludes the rite, and every one returns home. [69]

Many similar usages prevail among the jungle tribes of South Mirzapur. The Korwas consider Dhartî Mâtâ one of their chief godlings. She lives in the village in the Deohâr or general village shrine under a Sâl tree. In the month of Aghan (November-December) she is worshipped with flowers and the offering of a goat. When she is duly worshipped the crops prosper and there are no epidemics. The Patâris and Majhwârs also recognize her as a goddess, and worship her in the month of Sâwan (August). The local devil priest or Baiga offers to her a goat, cock, and rich cakes (pûri). She is also worshipped in the cold weather before the grain and barley are sown, and again on the threshing-floor before the winnowing begins. The flesh of the animals is consumed by the males and unmarried girls; no grown-up girl or married woman is allowed to touch the flesh. The Ghasiyas also believe in Dhartî Mâtâ. She is their village goddess, and is presented with a ram or a goat or cakes. The offering is made by the Baiga, for whom the materials are provided by a general contribution in the village. The Kharwârs worship her at the village shrine before wood-cutting and ploughing begin. In the month of Sâwan (August) they do a special service in her honour, known as the Hariyârî Pûjâ, or "worship of greenery," at the time of transplanting the rice. In Aghan (November) they do the Khar Pûjâ, when they begin cutting thatching-grass (khar). A cock, some Mahua (Bassia latifolia) and parched grain are offered to her. All this is done by the Baiga, who receives the offerings, and none but males are allowed to attend. Similarly the Pankas worship her before sowing and harvesting the grain. They and the Bhuiyârs offer a pig and some liquor at the more important agricultural seasons. The Kharwârs sometimes call her Devî Dâî, or "Nurse Devî," and in times of trouble sprinkle rice and pulse in her name on the ground. When the crops are being sown they release a fowl as a scapegoat and pray--Hê Dhartî Mahtârî! Kusal mangala rakhiyo! Harwâh, bail, sab bachen rahen--"O Mother Earth! Keep in prosperity and protect the ploughmen and the oxen." In much the same spirit is the prayer of the peasant in Karnâl to Mother Earth:--Sâh Bâdshâh sê surkhrû rakhiyê! Aur is men achchha nâj dê, to bâdshâh ko bhî paisa den, aur Sâh kâ bhi utar jâwê--"Keep our rulers and bankers contented! Grant us a plentiful yield! So shall we pay our revenue and satisfy our banker!" [70]

Secrecy in Worship of Mother Earth.

We shall meet other instances in which secrecy is an essential element in these rural rites. This condition prevails almost universally. Notable, too, is the rule by which married women are excluded from a share in offerings to the Earth goddess.

Thunder and Lightning.

As is natural, thunder and lightning are considered ill-omened. In the old mythology lightning (vidyut) was one of the weapons of the Maruts, and Parjanya was the deity who wielded the thunderbolt. Many legends tell that the soul of the first man came to earth in the form of the lightning. Thus Yama was the first man born of the thunderbolt, and he first trod the path of death and became regent of the dead. Many are the devices to scare the lightning demon. "During a thunderstorm it was a Greek custom to put out the fire, and hiss and cheep with the lips. The reason for the custom was explained by the Pythagoreans to be that by acting thus you scared the spirits in Tartarus, who were doubtless supposed to make the thunder and lightning. Similarly some of the Australian blacks, who attribute thunder to the agency of demons, and are much afraid of it, believe that they can dispel it by chanting some particular words and breathing hard; and it is a German superstition that the danger from a thunderstorm can be averted by putting out the fire. During a thunderstorm the Sakai of the Malay Peninsula run out of their houses and brandish their weapons to drive away the demons; and the Esthonians in Russia fasten scythes, edge upwards, over the door, that the demons, fleeing from the thundering god, may cut their feet if they try to seek shelter in the house. Sometimes the Esthonians, for a similar purpose, take all the edged tools in the house and throw them out into the yard. It is said that when the thunder is over, spots of blood are often found on the scythes and knives, showing that the demons have been wounded by them.

"So when the Indians of Canada were asked by the Jesuit missionaries why they planted their swords in the ground point upwards, they replied that the spirit of the thunder was sensible, and that if he saw the naked blades he would turn away and take good care not to approach their huts. This is a fair example of the close similarity of European superstitions to the superstitions of savages. In the present case the difference happens to be slightly in favour of the Indians, since they did not, like our European savages, delude themselves into seeing the blood of demons on the swords. The reason for the Greek and German custom of putting out the fire during a thunderstorm is probably a wish to avoid attracting the attention of the thunder demons. From a like motive some of the Australian blacks hide themselves during a thunderstorm, and keep absolutely silent, lest the thunder should find them out. Once during a storm a white man called out in a loud voice to a black fellow, with whom he was working, to put the saw under a log and seek shelter. He found that the saw had been already put aside, and the black fellow was very indignant at his master for speaking so loud. 'What for,' said he, in great wrath--'what for speak so loud? Now um thunder hear and know where um saw is.' And he went out and changed its hiding-place." [71]

All these precautions are well known to the people of Upper India. It is a very common habit to throw out axes and knives to scare the thunder demon, as we shall see is the case with the evil spirit of hail. The rule of keeping quiet and muttering incantations under the breath is also familiar to them. They are particularly careful lest a first-born son may lean against anything and thus attract the demon on himself. Thunder in a clear sky is much dreaded, an idea which often appears in classical literature. [72]

Earthquakes.

Earthquakes are also naturally an object of terror. Pythagoras believed that they were caused by dead men fighting beneath the earth. The common explanation of these occurrences in India is that Varâha, or the boar incarnation of Vishnu, who supports the earth, is changing the burden of the world from one tusk to another. By another account it is due to the great bull or elephant which supports the world. Derived from a more advanced theological stage is the theory that the earth shakes because it is over-burdened by the sins of mankind in this evil age. Colonel Dalton describes how a rumbling (probably caused by an earthquake) in the cave in which the bloodthirsty divinity of the Korwas was supposed to dwell, caused extreme terror among them. [73]

River-worship.

High on the list of benevolent deities of Northern India are the great rivers, especially the Ganges and the Jumnâ, which are known respectively as Gangâ Mâî or "Mother Ganges" and Jumnâ jî or "Lady Jumnâ."

Gangâ, of course, in the mythologies has a divine origin. According to one account she flows from the toe of Vishnu, and was brought down from heaven by the incantations of the Saint Bhâgîratha, to purify the ashes of the sixty thousand sons of King Sâgara, who had been burnt up by the angry glance of Kapila, the sage. By another story she descends in seven streams from Siva's brow. The descent of Gangâ disturbed the Saint Jahnu at his austerities, and in his anger he drank up the stream; but he finally relented, and allowed the river to flow from his ear. By a third account she is the daughter of Himavat, the impersonation of the Himâlayan range. Another curious tale, which must have been based on some Indian tradition, is found in Plutarch [74]--"The Ganges is a river of India, called so for the following reason:--The nymph Kalauria bore to Indus a son of notable beauty, by name Ganges, who in the ignorance of intoxication had connection with his mother. But when later on he learned the truth from his nurse, in the passion of his remorse he threw himself into the river Chliaros, which was called Ganges after him." Another legend again is found in the Mahâbhârata. [75] The wise Santanu goes to hunt on the banks of the Ganges and finds a lovely nymph, of whom he becomes enamoured. She puts him under the taboo that he is never to say anything to displease her, an idea familiar in the well-known Swan Maiden cycle of folk-tales. She bears him eight sons, of whom she throws seven into the river, and her husband dares not remonstrate with her. When she is about to throw away the last child he challenges her to tell him who she is and to have pity upon him. She then tells him that she is Gangâ personified, and that the seven sons are the divine Vasavas, who by being thrown into the river are liberated from the curse of human life. The eighth remains among men as Dyaus, the sky, in the form of the eunuch Bhîshma.

It is remarkable that, as in Plutarch's legend, the Jumnâ is connected with a tale of incest. Yamî or Yamunâ was the daughter of the Sun and sister of Yama, the god of death. They were the first human pair and the progenitors of the race of men. It is needless to say that similar traditions of brother and sister marriage are found in Egypt, Peru and elsewhere. Yamunâ, according to the modern story told on her banks, was unmarried, and hence some people will not drink from her because she was not purified by the marriage rite, and so the water is heavy and indigestible. Another tale tells how Balarâma, in a state of inebriety, called upon her to come to him that he might bathe in her waters; and as she did not heed, he, in his rage, seized his ploughshare weapon, dragged her to him, and compelled her to follow him whithersoever he wandered through the forest. The river then assumed a human form and besought his forgiveness; but it was some time before she could appease the angry hero. This has been taken to represent the construction of some ancient canal from the river; but Mr. Growse shows that this idea is incorrect. [76]

The worship of Mother Ganges is comparatively modern. She is mentioned only twice in the Rig Veda, and then without any emphasis or complementary epithet. Apparently at this time the so-called Aryan invaders had not reached her banks. [77] There are numerous temples to Gangâ all along her banks, of which those at Hardwâr, Garhmuktesar, Soron, Mathura, Prayâg, and Benares are perhaps the most important in Upper India. She has her special festival on the seventh of the month of Baisâkh (May-June), which is celebrated by general bathing all along the banks of the sacred stream. Ganges water is carried long distances into the interior, and is highly valued for its use in sacrifices, as a remedy, a form of stringent oath, and a viaticum for the dying. The water of certain holy wells in Scotland [78] and elsewhere enjoys a similar value.

But it is by bathing in the sacred stream at the full moon, during eclipses, and on special festivals that the greatest efficacy is assured. On these occasions an opportunity is taken for making oblations to the sainted dead whose ashes have been consigned to her waters. Bathing is throughout India regarded as one of the chief means of religious advancement. The idea rests on a metaphor--as the body is cleansed from physical pollution, so the soul is purified from sin. The stock case of the merit of this religious bathing is that of King Trisanku, "he who had committed the three deadly sins," who is also known as Satyavrata. The legend appears in various forms. By one story he tried to win his way to heaven by a great sacrifice which his priest, Vasishtha, declined to perform. He then applied to Visvamitra, the rival Levite, who agreed to assist him. He was opposed by the sons of Vasishtha, whom he consumed to ashes. Finally, Trisanku was admitted to heaven, but he was forced by the angry saint to hang for ever with his head downwards. By another account he committed the deadly sins of running away with the wife of a citizen, offending his father, and killing in a time of famine Kâmadhenu, the wondrous cow of Vashishtha. By another story he killed a cow and a Brâhman and married his step-mother. At any rate he and the wicked Râja Vena were the types of violent sinners in the early legends; possibly they represent a revolt against the pretensions of the Brâhmans. At length the sage Visvamitra took pity upon him, and having collected water from all the sacred places in the world, washed him clean of his offences.

Springs Connected with the Ganges.

Many famous springs are supposed to have underground connection with the Ganges. Such is that of Chângdeo in Khândesh, of which Abul Fazl gives an account, and that at Jahânpur in Alwar. [79] It was at the village of Bastali in the Karnâl District that the sage Vyâsa lived, and there the Ganges flowed into his well to save him the trouble of going to the river to bathe, bringing with her his loin cloth and water-pot to convince him that she was really the Ganges herself. [80]

Sacred River Junctions.

When two sacred rivers combine their waters the junction (Sangama) is regarded as of peculiar sanctity. Such is the famous junction of the Ganges and Jumnâ at Prayâg, the modern Allahâbâd, which is presided over by the guardian deity Veni Mâdhava. The same virtue, but in a lesser degree, attaches to the junction of the Ganges and the Son or Gandak. In the Himâlayas cairns are raised at the junction of three streams, and every passer-by adds a stone. At the confluence of the Gaula and Baliya rivers in the Hills there is said to be a house of gold, but unfortunately it is at present invisible on account of some potent enchantment. [81] Bathing in such rivers is not only a propitiation for sin, but is also efficacious for the cure of disease. Even the wicked Râja Vena, who was, as we have seen, a type of old-world impiety, was cured, like Naaman the Syrian, of his leprosy by bathing in the Sâraswati, the lost river of the Indian desert.

Even minor streams have their sanctity and their legends. The course of the Sarju was opened by a Rishi, from which time dates the efficacy of a pilgrimage to Bâgheswar. [82] Râja Rantideva was such a pious king and offered up so many cattle in sacrifice, that his blood formed the river Chambal. Anasûyâ, the wife of Atri, was a daughter of the Rishi Daksha. She did penance for ten thousand years, and so was enabled to create the river Mandâkinî, and thus saved the land from famine. Her worship is localized at Ansuyaji in the Bânda District. The sacred portion of the Phalgu is said occasionally to flow with milk, though Dr. Buchanan was not fortunate enough to meet anyone who professed to have witnessed the occurrence. [83] The Narmadâ was wooed by the river Son, who proved faithless to her, and was beguiled by the Johilâ, a rival lady stream, who acted the part of the barber's wife at the wedding. The Narmadâ, enraged at her lover's perfidy, tore her way through the marble rocks at Jabalpur, and has worn the willow ever since. [84] She is now the great rival of Mother Ganges. While in the case of the latter only the Northern (or as it is called the Kâsi or Benares bank) is efficacious for bathing or for the cremation of the dead, the Narmadâ is free from any restriction of the kind. The same is the case with the Son, at least during its course through the District of Mirzapur. By some the sanctity of the Narmadâ is regarded as superior even to that of the Ganges. While according to some authorities it is necessary to bathe in the Ganges in order to obtain forgiveness of sins, the same result is attained by mere contemplation of the Narmadâ. According to the Bhâvishya Purâna the sanctity of the Ganges will cease on the expiration of five thousand years of the Kali Yuga, or the fourth age of the world, which occurred in 1895, and the Narmadâ will take its place. The Ganges priests, however, repudiate this calumny, and it may safely be assumed that Mother Ganges will not abandon her primacy in the religious world of Hinduism without a determined struggle. [85]

Ill-omened Streams.

But all rivers are not beneficent. Worst of all is the dread Vaitaranî, the river of death, which is localized in Orissa and pours its stream of ordure and blood on the confines of the realm of Yama. Woe to the wretch who in that dread hour lacks the aid of the Brâhman and the holy cow to help him to the other shore. The name of one stream is accursed in the ears of all Hindus, the hateful Karamnâsa, which flows for part of its course through the Mirzapur District. Even to touch it destroys the merit of works of piety, for such is the popular interpretation of its name. No plausible reason for the evil reputation of this particular stream has been suggested except that it may have been in early times the frontier between the invading Aryans and the aborigines, and possibly the scene of a campaign in which the latter were victorious. The Karamâ tree is, however, the totem of the Drâvidian Kharwârs and Mânjhis, who live along its banks, and it is perhaps possible that this may be the real origin of the name, and that its association with good works (karma) was an afterthought.

The legend of this ill-omened stream is associated with that of the wicked king Trisanku, to whom reference has already been made. When the sage Visvamitra collected water from all the sacred streams of the world, it fell burdened with the monarch's sins into the Karamnâsa, which has remained defiled ever since. By another account, the sinner was hung up between heaven and earth as a punishment for his offences, and from his body drips a baneful moisture which still pollutes the water. Similar legends of the origin of rivers are not wanting in folk-lore. An Austrian story tells that all rivers take their origin from the tears shed by a giant's wife as she laments his death. [86] The same idea of a river springing from a corpse appears in one of the tales of Somadeva and in the twelfth novel of the Gesta Romanorum. [87] Nowadays no Hindu with any pretensions to personal purity will drink from this accursed stream, and at its fords many low caste people make their living by conveying on their shoulders their more scrupulous brethren across its waters.

Origin of River-worship.

It is perhaps worth considering the possible origin of this river-worship. Far from being peculiar to Hinduism, it is common to the whole Aryan world. The prayer of the patient Odysseus [88] to the river after his sufferings in the deep is heard in almost the same language at every bathing Ghât in Upper India, from the source of Mother Ganges to where she joins the ocean. The river is always flowing, always being replenished by its tributary streams, and hence comes to be regarded as a thing of life, an emblem of eternal existence, a benevolent spirit which washes away the sins of humanity and supplies in a tropical land the chief needs of men. In a thirsty land the mighty stream of the Ganges would naturally arouse feelings of respect and adoration, not so much perhaps to those living on its banks and ever blessed by its kindly influence, as to the travel-worn pilgrim from the sandy steppes of Râjasthân or the waterless valleys of the Central Indian hills. We can hardly doubt that from this point of view Mother Ganges has been a potent factor in the spread of Hinduism. She became the handmaid of the only real civilization of which Hindustân could boast, and from her shrines bands of eager missionaries were ever starting to sow the seeds of the worship of the gods in the lands of the unbeliever.

The two great rivers of Upper India were, again, associated with that land of fable and mystery, the snowy range which was the home of the gods and the refuge of countless saints and mystics, who in its solitudes worked out the enigma of the world for the modern Hindu. They ended in the great ocean, the final home of the ashes of the sainted dead. Even the partially Hinduised Drâvidian tribes of the Vindhyan Plateau bring the bones of their dead relations to mingle with those of the congregation of the faithful, who have found their final rest in its waters since the world was young. The Ganges and the streams which swell its flood thus come to be associated with the deepest beliefs of the race, and it is hard to exaggerate its influence as a bond of union between the nondescript entities which go to make up modern Hinduism.

Again, much of the worship of rivers is connected with the propitiation of the water-snakes, demons and goblins, with which in popular belief many of them are infested. Such were Kâliyâ, the great black serpent of the Jumnâ, which attacked the infant Krishna; the serpent King of Nepâl, Karkotaka, who dwelt in the lake Nâgarâsa when the divine lotus of Adi Buddha floated on its surface. [89] At the temple of Triyugi Nârâyana in Garhwâl is a pool said to be full of snakes of a yellow colour which come out at the feast of the Nâgpanchamî to be worshipped. The Gârdevî, or river sprite of Garhwâl, is very malignant, and is the ghost of a person who has met his death by suicide, violence, or accident. [90] These malignant water demons naturally infest dangerous rapids and whirlpools, and it is necessary to propitiate them. Thus we learn that on the river Tâpti in Berâr timber floated down sometimes disappears in a subterraneous cavity; so before trying the navigation there the Gonds sacrifice a goat to propitiate the river demon. [91]

Another variety of these demons of water is the Nâga and his wife the Nâgin, of whom we shall hear more in connection with snake-worship. In the Sikandar, a tributary of the Son, is a deep water-hole where no one dares to go. The water is said to reach down as far as Pâtâla, or the infernal regions. Here live the Nâga and the Nâgin. In the middle of the river is a tree of the Kuâlo variety, and when ghosts trouble the neighbourhood an experienced Ojha or sorcerer is called, who bores holes in the bark of the tree and there shuts up the noxious ghosts, which then come under the rule of the Nâga and Nâgin, who are the supreme rulers of the ghostly band.

Another Mirzapur river, the Karsa, is infested by a Deo, or demon, known as Jata Rohini, or "Rohini of the matted locks." He is worshipped by the Baiga priest to ensure abundant rain and harvests and to keep off disease. The Baiga catches a fish which he presents to the Deo, but if any one but a Baiga dares to drink there, the water bubbles up and the demon sweeps him away.

Like this Deo of Mirzapur, most of these water demons are malignant and wait until some wretched creature enters their domains, when they seize and drag him away. Some of them can even catch the reflection of a person as he looks into water, and hence savages all over the world are very averse to looking into deep water-holes. Thus, the Zulus believe that there is a beast in the water which can seize the shadow of a man, and men are forbidden to lean over and look into a deep pool, lest their shadow should be taken away. There is a tale of the Godiva cycle in which a woman at Arles is carried off by a creature called a Drac and made to act as nurse to the demon's child. [92] In Scotland water-holes are known as "the cups of the fairies." And there is the Trinity well in Ireland, into which no one can gaze with impunity, and from which the river Boyne once burst forth in pursuit of a lady who had insulted it. [93]

In India, also, dangerous creatures of this kind abound. There is in Mirzapur a famous water-hole, known as Barewa. A herdsman was once grazing his buffaloes near the place, when the waters rose in anger and carried off him and his cattle. Nowadays the drowned buffaloes have taken the shape of a dangerous demon known as Bhainsâsura, or the buffalo demon, who now in company with the Nâga and the Nâgin lives in this place, and no one dares to fish there until he has propitiated the demons with the offering of a fowl, eggs, and a goat. Another kind of water demon attacks fishermen; it appears in the form of a turban which fixes itself to his hook and increases in length as he tries to drag it to the shore.

There is, again, the water-horse, with whom we are familiar in the "Arabian Nights," where he consorts with mares of mortal race. This creature is known in Kashmîr as the Zalgur. [94] The water-bull of Manxland is a creature of the same class, and they constantly appear through the whole range of Celtic folk-lore. [95] Such again is the Hydra of Greek mythology, and the Teutonic Nikke or Nixy, who has originated the legend of the Flying Dutchman, and in the shape of Old Nick is the terror of sailors. Like him is the Kelpie of Scotland, a water-horse who is believed to carry off the unwary by sudden floods and devour them. Of the same kindred is the last of the dragons which St. Patrick chained up in a lake on the Galtee Mountains in Tipperary.

Many pools, again, in Northern India are infested by a creature known as the Bûrna, who is the ghost of a drowned person. He is always on the look-out for someone to take his place, so he drags in people who come to fish in his domains. [96] He is particularly feared by the Magahiya Doms, a caste of degraded nomadic gipsies who infest Gorakhpur and Behâr.

Many of these demons, such as the Nâga and Nâgin, have kingdoms and palaces stored with treasure under the water, and there they entice young men and maidens, who occasionally come back to their mortal kindred and tell them of the wonders which they have seen. These are akin to Morgan la Fay of the Orlando Innamorato, La Motte Fouqué's Undine, and they often merge into the mermaid of the Swan Maiden type of tale, who marries a mortal lover and leaves him at last because in his folly he breaks some taboo which is a condition of the permanence of their love.

But besides these dragons which infest rivers and lakes there are special water gods, many of which are the primitive water monster in a developed form. Such is Mahishâsura, who is the Mahishoba of Berâr, and like the Bhainsâsura already mentioned, infests great rivers and demands propitiation. According to the early mythology this Mahisha, the buffalo demon, was killed by Kârttikeya at the Krauncha pass in the Himâlaya, which was opened by the god to make a passage for the deities to visit the plains from Kailâsa. The Kols, again, have Nâga Era, who presides over tanks, wells, and any stagnant water, and Garha Era, the river goddess. "They," as Col. Dalton remarks, "are frequently and very truly denounced as the cause of sickness and propitiated with sacrifices to spare their victims." [97]

Floods and Drowning People.

Floods are, as we have seen, regarded as produced by demoniacal agency. In the Panjâb, when a village is in danger of floods, the headman makes an offering of a cocoa-nut and a rupee to the flood demon. As in many other places the cocoa-nut represents the head of a human victim, which in olden times was the proper offering. He holds the offering in his hand and stands in the water. When the flood rises high enough to wash the offering from his hand, it is believed that the waters will abate. Some people throw seven handfuls of boiled wheat and sugar into the stream and distribute the remainder among the persons present. Some take a male buffalo, a horse, or a ram, and after boring the right ear of the victim, throw it into the water. If the victim be a horse, it should be saddled before it is offered. A short time ago, when the town and temples at Hardwâr were in imminent danger during the Gohna flood, the Brâhmans poured vessels of milk, rice and flowers into the waters of Mother Ganges and prayed to her to spare them.

In the same connection may be noticed the very common prejudice which exists in India against saving drowning people. This is familiar in Western folk-lore. It is supposed to be alluded to in the "Twelfth Night" of Shakespeare, and the plot of Sir W. Scott's "Pirate" turns upon it. Numerous instances of the same idea have been collected by Dr. Tylor and Mr. Conway. [98] Dr. Tylor considers that it is based upon the belief that to snatch a victim from the very clutches of the water spirit is a rash defiance of the deity which would hardly pass unavenged. Mr. Black [99] accounts for the idea on the ground that the spirits of people who have died a violent death may return to earth if they can find a substitute; hence the soul of the last dead man is insulted or injured by anyone preventing another from taking his place. This last theory is very common in Western folk-lore. Thus Lady Wilde writes from Ireland [100]:--"It is believed that the spirit of the dead last buried has to watch in the churchyard until another corpse is laid there, or to perform menial offices in the spirit world, such as carrying wood and water, till the next spirit comes from earth. They are also sent on messages to earth, chiefly to announce the coming death of some relative, and at this they are glad, for their own time of peace and rest will come at last." So in Argyllshire, [101] it was believed that the spirit of the last interred kept watch around the churchyard until the arrival of another occupant, to whom its custody was transmitted. This, as we shall see in connection with the custom of barring the return of the ghost, quite agrees with popular feeling in India, and furnishes an adequate explanation of the prejudice against rescuing the drowning and incurring the wrath of the former ghost, who is thus deprived of the chance of release by making over his functions to a substitute.

Khwâja Khizr, the God of Water.

But besides these water spirits and local river gods, the Hindus have a special god of water, Khwâja Khizr, whose Muhammadan title has been Hinduised into Râja Kidâr, or as he is called in Bengal, Kâwaj or Pîr Badr. This is a good instance of a fact, which will be separately discussed elsewhere, that the Hindus are always ready to annex the deities and beliefs of other races.

According to the Sikandarnâma, Khwâja Khizr was a saint of Islâm, who presided over the well of immortality, and directed Alexander of Macedon in his vain search for the blessed waters. The fish is his vehicle, and hence its image is painted over the doors of both Hindus and Muhammadans, while it became the family crest of the late royal house of Oudh. Among Muhammadans a prayer is said to Khwâja Khizr at the first shaving of a boy, and a little boat is launched in a river or tank in his honour. The same rite is performed at the close of the rainy season, when it is supposed to have some connection with the saint Ilisha, that is to say the prophet Elisha. Elisha, by the way, apparently from the miraculous way in which his bones revived the dead, has come down in modern times to Italy as a worker of miracles, and is known to the Tuscan peasant as Elisaeus. [102]

Another legend represents Khwâja Khizr to be of the family of Noah, who is also regarded by rural Muhammadans as a water deity in connection with the flood. Others connect him with St. George, the patron saint of England, who is the Ghergis of Syria, and according to Muhammadan tradition was sent in the time of the Prophet to convert the King of Maushil, and came to life after three successive martyrdoms. Others identify him with Thammuz, Tauz, or Adonis. Others call him the companion of Moses, and the commentator Husain says he was a general in the army of Zu'l Qarnain, "he of the horns," or Alexander the Great. [103]

Out of this jumble of all the mythologies has been evolved the Hindu god of water, the patron deity of boatmen, who is invoked by them to prevent their boats from being broken or submerged, or to show them the way when they have lost it. He is worshipped by burning lamps, feeding Brâhmans, and by setting afloat on a village pond a little raft of grass with a lighted lamp placed upon it. This, it may be noted, is one of the many ways in which the demon of evil or disease is sent away in many parts of the world. [104] Another curious function is, in popular belief, allotted to Khwâja Khizr, that of haunting markets in the early morning and fixing the rates of grain, which he also protects from the Evil Eye. [105]

The Folk-lore of Wells.

In this connection some of the folk-lore of wells may be mentioned. The digging of a well is a duty requiring infinite care and caution. The work should begin on Sunday, and on the previous Saturday night little bowls of water are placed round the proposed site, and the one which dries up least marks the best site for the well, which reminds us of the fleece of Gideon. The circumference is then marked and they commence to dig, leaving the central lump of earth intact. They cut out this clod of earth last and in the Panjâb call it Khwâjajî, perhaps after Khwâja Khizr, the water god, worship it and feed Brâhmans. If it breaks it is a bad omen, and a new site will be selected a week afterwards. Further east when a man intends to sink a well he inquires from the Pandit an auspicious moment for commencing the work. When that hour comes he worships Gaurî, Ganesa, Sesha Nâga, the world serpent, the earth, the spade and the nine planets. Then facing in the direction in which, according to the directions of the Pandit, Sesha Nâga is supposed to be lying at the time, he cuts five clods with the spade. When the workmen reach the point at which the wooden well-curb has to be fixed, the owner smears the curb in five places with red powder, and tying Dûb grass and a sacred thread to it, lowers it into its place. A fire sacrifice is done, and Brâhmans are fed. When the well is ready, cow-dung, milk, cow urine, butter and Ganges water, leaves of the sacred Tulasî and honey are thrown in before the water is used.

But no well is considered lucky until the Sâlagrâma, or spiral ammonite sacred to Vishnu, is solemnly wedded to the Tulasî or basil plant, representing the garden which the well is intended to water. The rite is done according to the standard marriage formula: the relations are assembled; the owner of the garden represents the bridegroom, while a kinsman of his wife stands for the bride. Gifts are given to Brâhmans, a feast is held in the garden, and both it and the well may then be used without danger. All this is on the same lines as many of the emblematical marriage rites which in other places are intended to promote the growth of vegetation. [106]

In Sirsa they have a legend that long ago, in time of drought, a headman of a village went to a Faqîr to beg him to pray for rain, and promised him his daughter in marriage if his prayer was successful. The rain came, but the headman would not perform his promise, and the Faqîr cursed the land, so that all the water became brackish. But he so far relented as to permit sweet water to flow on condition that it was given to all men free of cost. In one village the spring became at once brackish when a water-rate was levied, and turned sweet again when the tax was remitted. In another the brackish water became sweet at the intercession of a Faqîr. In the Panjâb there is a class of Faqîrs who are known as Sûnga, or "sniffers," because they can smell out sweet water underground. They work on much the same lines as their brethren in England, who discover springs by means of the divining rod. [107] In one of the tales of Somadeva we have a doll which can produce water at will, which is like Lucian's story of the pestle that was sent to fetch water. When the Egyptian sorcerer was away his pupil tried to perform the trick, but he did not know the charm for making the water stop, and the house was flooded. Then he chopped the pestle in two, but that only made matters worse, for both halves set to bring the water. This is somewhat like the magic quern of European folk-lore. [108]

The water of many wells is efficacious in the cure of disease. In Ireland, the first water drawn from a sacred well after midnight on May Eve is considered an effective antidote to witchcraft. [109] In India many wells have a reputation for curing barrenness, which is universally regarded as a disease, the work of supernatural agency. In India the water of seven wells is collected on the night of the Diwâlî, or feast of lamps, and barren women bathe in it as a means of procuring children. In a well in Orissa the priests throw betel-nuts into the mud, and barren women scramble for them. Those who find them will have their desire for children gratified before long. [110] For the same reason, after childbirth the mother is taken to worship the village well. She walks round it in the course of the sun and smears the platform with red lead, which is probably a survival of the original rite of blood sacrifice. In Dharwâr the child of a Brâhman is taken in the third month to worship water at the village well. [111] In Palâmau the Sârhul feast is observed in the month of Baisâkh (May), when dancing and singing goes on and the headmen entertain their tenants. The whole village is purified, and then they proceed to the village well, which is cleaned out, while the village Baiga does a sacrifice and every one smears the platform with red lead. No one may draw water from the well during the Sârhul. [112] Hydrophobia all over Northern India is cured by looking down seven wells in succession.

In the Panjâb the sites of deserted wells are discovered by driving about a herd of goats, which are supposed to lie down at the place where search should be made. Some people discover wells by dreams; others, as the Luniyas, a caste of navvies, are said, like the Faqîrs in Sirsa, to be able to discover by smell where water is likely to be found. I was once shown a well in the Muzaffarnagar district into which a Faqîr once spat, and for a long time after the visit of the holy man it ran with excellent milk. The supply had ceased, I regret to say, before my visit. The well of life which can survive even the ashes of a corpse is found throughout the Indian folk-tales. [113]

Sacred Wells.

Sacred wells, of course, abound all over the country. Many of them are supposed to have underground connection with the Ganges or some other holy river. Many of these are connected with the wanderings of Râma and Sîtâ after their exile from Ayodhya. Sîtâ's kitchen (Sîtâ kî rasoî) is shown in various places, as at Kanauj and Deoriya in the Allahâbâd District. [114] Her well is on the Bindhâchal hill in Mirzapur, and is a famous resort of pilgrims. There is another near Monghyr, and a third in the Sultânpur District in Oudh. The Monghyr well has been provided with a special legend. Sîtâ was suspected of faithlessness during her captivity in the kingdom of Râvana. She threw herself into a pit filled with fire, where the hot spring now flows, and came out purified. When Dr. Buchanan visited the place they had just invented a new legend in connection with it. Shortly before, it was said, the water became so cool as to allow bathing in it. The governor prohibited the practice, as it made the water so dirty that Europeans could not drink it. "But on the very day when the bricklayers began to build a wall in order to exclude the bathers, the water became so hot that no one could dare to touch it, so that the precaution being unnecessary, the work of the infidels was abandoned." [115]