Divination and Magic.

Sickness, if long continued or severe, is frequently attributed to witchcraft (mājā). A man suffering from long sickness is said to be mājā kelòng—“witchcraft has got hold of him.” To discover the author of the spell, or the god or demon who has brought the trouble and must be propitiated, the services of a diviner are necessary. Uchē, feminine uchē-pī (Hindi, ōjhà), is the general name for the cunning in such things. Of these there are two grades—the humbler, whose craft is acquired merely by instruction and practice, and the higher, who works under the inspiration or afflatus of divine powers. The former is the sàng-kelàng ābàng, “the man who looks at rice,” in Assamese, mangalsuā; the latter, invariably a woman, is the lodèt or lodèt-pī. In serious sickness or distress the latter is called in; on ordinary and less important occasions, the former.

The sàng-kelàng ābàng picks out of the pot the unbroken grains of rice (sàng), and places them, by fives and tens, in pentacle or other fashion. He then counts by couples. If in the groups the odd numbers predominate, the omen is good. If there are no odd grains over, it is very bad. Then all are swept together again, and arranged in three or four heaps. Each heap is counted out, a god being named, and if after the counting, again by couples, three single grains remain, the god named is the one to be propitiated. If three grains do not remain, the process is tried over again. Cowries (chobai) are sometimes used instead of rice in the same way. Also, with cowries a handful is taken and spread out, and the number with the slits upwards counted; if they are the majority, the omen is good.[5]

Another mode of divination used by the mangalsuā is to arrange in a circle, equidistant from a point marked on a board (inghoi), as many little heaps of clay as there are gods suspected in the case, each heap being called by the name of its god. An egg is then sharply thrown into the middle of the board at the marked point. When it breaks and the yolk is scattered, that clay heap which receives the largest splash of yolk, or towards which the largest and longest splash points, indicates the god responsible for the affliction.[6]

Another mode is to use the nòk-jīr, which is a long-handled iron dāo with a cross-piece at the handle and two inclined projecting pieces higher up, before the blade, thus:—

This is held upright in the hand. It shakes of itself when the charm is recited and the nòk-jīr invoked to become inspired: Nàng uchḗ vàng-phlòt! “Let your spirit (uchḗ) come!” The holder asks whether the sick person will recover, and goes over the names of the possibly responsible gods, and the nòkjīr shakes at the right answer and name. The charm (the Assamese word montro is used) recites the making of the nòkjīr, and ends—“if you tell lies, you will be broken up and made into needles” (—the lowest use to which iron can be put, to sew women’s petticoats!).[7]

The Lodèt is an ordinary woman (not belonging to any particular family or kur), who feels the divine afflatus, and, when it is upon her, yawns continually and calls out the names and the will of the gods. Another lodètpī is summoned in to question her, and ascertain if her possession is really divine; a sàng-kelàng ābàng may also be consulted. If the report is favourable, a purificatory offering of a fowl is made to Hèmphū and Mukràng, the preservers of men, and the woman is accepted as a lodètpī.

She sits by the bewitched person (mājā-kelòng), and the neighbours come in after supper. The lodètpī bathes her hands and feet and face in water in which the tulsi plant (Ocymum sanctum, holy basil) has been steeped, and begins to shake and yawn. A gourd of rice-beer is brought, of which she drinks some, and begins to call out the names of gods, and they descend upon her. She is now inspired, and when questioned indicates, by indirect and riddling answers, the enemy who has bewitched the sufferer, or the gods who must be sacrificed to. When this is ascertained she goes away. The accusation of practising witchcraft is carried before the or village assembly. The sacrifice to placate the gods proceeds next day, and is usually costly.

To bewitch a person, it is necessary to have some of his hair, or a piece of his clothes; these are buried with one egg, some bones, and some charcoal. A good lodètpī can produce these things by the power of her inspiration. A white cloth is tied up into the shape of a bag. She conjures the things into it, and on opening the bag next morning they are found inside. When they are thus recovered, the spirit (kārjòng) of the sufferer returns with them, and he gets well.

Charms (pherèm) are much used for medicinal purposes, either alone or in combination with other remedies. For an ordinary stomach-ache (pòk-kesō), a little mud rubbed on the abdomen, with a muttered charm, is the specific. For rheumatism (kēchē-āsē), a castor-oil leaf is struck on the place, and a charm muttered; if this fails, a sacrifice must be offered to the god Kēchē-āsē. The worker of these remedial measures is called kàngtòk ābàng, and the verb is ingtòk. Charms are not, as a rule, carried on the person.

The expression vur kāchethāt, “to kill for oneself (a fowl) for disease,” means to prevent evil by sacrifice after a dream which had previously been followed by mischance.

If a child does not thrive, it is imputed to the sin, or devil (āhī-ī) of the maternal uncle (òng), or, if there is no maternal uncle, of one of the child’s mother’s kur. The family apply to the person held to be responsible, and he gives a brass ring to be hung round the child’s neck, and a rice-ball (àn ādum).

There is no entertaining of friends on recovery from sickness. The sick person is tended by his wife and relations.

Tekerē, Thekerē, means a man who knows a spell or montro, especially one which protects him against tigers (tèkē).