2. Tribal legends
Various stories of the origin of the Savars are given in Sanskrit literature. In the Aitareya Brāhmana they are spoken of as the descendants of Vishwāmitra, while in the Mahābhārat they are said to have been created by Kāmdhenu, Vasishtha’s wonder-working cow, in order to repel the aggression of Vishwāmitra. Local tradition traces their origin to the celebrated Seorī of the Rāmāyana, who is supposed to have lived somewhere near the present Seorīnārāyan in the Bilāspur District and to have given her name to this place. Rāmchandra in his wanderings met her there, ate the plums which she had gathered for him after tasting each one herself, and out of regard for her devotion permitted her name to precede his own of Nārāyan in that given to the locality. Another story makes one Jara Savar their original ancestor, who was said to have shot Krishna in the form of a deer. Another states that they were created for carrying stones for the construction of the great temple at Puri and for dragging the car of Jagannāth, which they still do at the present time. Yet another connecting them with the temple of Jagannāth states that their ancestor was an old Bhīl hermit called Sawar, who lived in Karod, two miles from Seorīnārāyan. The god Jagannāth had at this time appeared in Seorīnārāyan and the old Sawar used to worship him. The king of Orissa had built the great temple at Puri and wished to install Jagannāth in it, and he sent a Brāhman to fetch him from Seorīnārāyan, but nobody knew where he was except the old hermit Sawar. The Brāhman besought him in vain to be allowed to see the god and even went so far as to marry his daughter, and finally the old man consented to take him blindfold to the place. The Brāhman, however, tied some mustard seeds in a corner of his cloth and made a hole in it so that they dropped out one by one on the way. After some time they grew up and served to guide him to the spot. This story of the mustard seeds of course finds a place in the folklore of many nations. The Brāhman then went to Seorīnārāyan alone and begged the god to go to Puri. Jagannāth consented, and assuming the form of a log of wood floated down the Mahānadi to Puri, where he was taken out and placed in the temple. A carpenter agreed to carve the god’s image out of the log of wood on condition that the temple should be shut up for six months while the work was going on. But some curious people opened the door before the time and the work could not proceed, and thus the image of the god is only half carved out of the wood up to the present day. As a consolation to the old man the god ordained that the place should bear the hermit’s name before his own as Seorīnārāyan. Lastly the Saonrs of Bundelkhand have the following tradition. In the beginning of creation Mahādeo wished to teach the people how to cultivate the ground, and so he made a plough and took out his bull Nandi to yoke to it But there was dense forest on the earth, so he created a being whom he called Savar and gave him an axe to clear the forest. In the meantime Mahādeo went away to get another bullock. The Savar after clearing the forest felt very hungry, and finding nothing else to eat killed Nandi and ate his flesh on a teak leaf. And for this reason the young teak leaves when rubbed give out sap which is the colour of blood to the present day. After some time Mahādeo returned, and finding the forest well cleared was pleased with the Savar, and as a reward endowed him with the knowledge of all edible and medicinal roots and fruits of the forest. But on looking round for Nandi he found him lying dead with some of his flesh cut off. The Savar pleaded ignorance, but Mahādeo sprinkled a little nectar on Nandi, who came to life again and told what had happened. Then Mahādeo was enraged with the Savar and said, ‘You shall remain a barbarian and dwell for ever in poverty in the jungles without enough to eat.’ And accordingly this has always been the condition of the Savar’s descendants.
Other old authors speak of the Parna or leaf-clad Savars; and a Savar messenger is described as carrying a bow in his hand “with his hair tied up in a knot behind with a creeper, black himself, and wearing a loin-cloth of bhilawān leaves”;[7] an excellent example of ‘a leaf-fringed legend.’