The Headless Horseman.
At the present time the most dreaded of these creatures is, perhaps, the Headless Horseman, who is popularly known as Dûnd, or “truncated.”
He has many of his kindred in other lands. Sir Francis Drake used to drive a hearse into Plymouth with headless horses and followed by yelling hounds. Coluinn gun Cheann of the Highlands goes about a headless trunk. A coach without horses used to career about the neighbourhood of Listowel when any misfortune was about to take place. A monster in one of the German tales carries about his head under his arm.[65]
By one account the Dûnd took his origin from the wars of the Mahâbhârata. However this may be, he appears periodically in the form of a headless trunk seated on horseback, with his head tied before him on the pommel of the saddle. He makes his rounds at night and calls to the householder from outside; but woe to any one who answers him, for this means death. The belief in these visionary death summonses is very common. The Irish Banshee howls at night and announces death. In Mirzapur, Bâghesar, or the tiger demon, lives on the Churni Hill. He sometimes comes down at night in human form, and calls people by name at their doors. If any one answers him he becomes sick. The Bengâli personifies Nisi or Night as the Homeric Greeks did.[66] She often comes at midnight, calls the house-master, who when he opens the door falls senseless and follows her where she will. Sometimes she takes him into a tank and drowns him, or leads him into a dense forest and drops him among thorns or on the top of some high tree. In fact it is always very dangerous to speak to these spirits or ghosts. Falstaff knew this well when he said, “They are fairies; he that speaks to them shall die.”
The Dûnd makes occasional incursions throughout the country. He was in the neighbourhood of Agra in 1882, and some twelve years after appeared in Mirzapur. On both occasions the news of his arrival caused considerable alarm. Every one shut up their houses at sunset, and no one on any consideration would answer a call from outside after nightfall. It was shrewdly suspected at the time that this rumour was spread by some professional burglar who made a harvest while the scare lasted.
Somewhat akin to the Dûnd is the spectral Râja of Bûndi who occasionally appears in the neighbourhood of Sahâranpur. Some years ago a Brâhman astrologer heard some one calling him from outside one night. When he answered the summons he was told that the Râja of Bûndi wanted to have his horoscope examined and was then encamped near the town. The Pandit proceeded to the place with the guide and saw a splendid encampment, and the Râja in his royal robes sitting in a tent ornamented with pearls. When he saw him the unfortunate astrologer knew that he was a Râkshasa, and he was the more convinced of this when he examined his horoscope and found that he was fated to live for ever. He told the Râja that his life would be long and prosperous, and after receiving three gold coins as his fee went home more dead than alive. Next morning he went to the place, but could find no sign of the camp, and when he looked in his box the coins were found to have disappeared.
There are numerous other versions of the Headless Horseman story in Northern India. In a fight at Khândesh the Gâoli prince engaged in personal conflict with the saint Sayyid Saadat Pîr, and struck off his head. The headless body continued to fight, and the Hindu army fled in panic. The trunk then snatched up the head and led the victorious troops to a neighbouring hill, where the earth opened and swallowed it.[67] So, in Oudh, Malik Ambar, the companion of Sâlâr Masaud, was, it is said, killed with his master at Bahrâich, but wandering back from Bijnor, a headless trunk on horseback, he at length reached the place where his tomb now stands, when the earth opened and received him and his horse.[68]
The Dûnd is apparently a close relation of the Skandhahâta of Bengal, who goes about with his head cut off from the shoulders. He dwells in low moist lands outside a village, in bogs and fens, and goes about in the dark, rolling about on the ground, with his long arms stretched out. Woe betide the belated peasant who falls within his grasp.[69]