The rice from the plain;
The wheat from the mountain,
But courting-talk comes from the mouths of boys.”
While the “courting-talk” goes on round the fire, there is a goodly store of weapons lying behind the singers. Any moment they may be attacked by the parents, brothers or friends of the girls. When this happens and the attack proves successful the luckless revellers are stripped naked.
The custom of the Little Flowery Miao is somewhat similar. Twice a year the men make music outside the houses where the girls live, and those who please go off with them to the hills for a carouse. Once a year the men choose their girls, and the other time the girls choose their men! The girls usually marry about fifteen or sixteen, and if they happen to be poor they go to the mother-in-law’s house very young. Among the tribes there are go-betweens to arrange marriages, but undoubtedly the young people have a better chance of selection by mutual liking than have the Chinese.
The music of the people is mostly produced from pipes, and has a certain charm; it is flute-like in sound, and some we heard was not unlike that of bagpipes without the drone. The I-chia are all fond of music and dancing. They were rather shamefacedly persuaded to dance for us, while one of them played. The steps were rather slow and stealthy, alternating with rapid pirouetting. They sank almost to the ground on one bent leg, while the other leg shot out in front to its furthest limit.
Witchcraft is firmly believed in by all the tribes. The witch-doctor has a great hold over them, and trades on their superstition shamelessly, getting wine, tobacco, or corn by means of what is called his “daemon,” without apparently stealing the things himself. The witch-doctor uses snake-poison to injure or kill people, and only he can make them well again! He also induces madness, so that the madman may fling off his clothes, which the doctor then picks up and carries off!
A curious story was told by an eye-witness to my friends in Ta-ting. He was present at the building of a house in the country by two stonemasons. They began quarrelling, and finally one went off in a great rage, refusing to finish his job. The other remarked confidently, “It does not matter; I shall get him back before evening”; but the onlookers did not believe it. The narrator of the story saw him go off to the hill-side and gather a bunch of grass and straw. He fashioned these into the figure of a man and cast spells upon it, after which he returned to his job and went on as if nothing had happened. Before he had finished the day’s work, the other man returned in great haste, dripping with perspiration; he apologized for his conduct and resumed work. He explained that after he had left in the morning he became very ill and suffered such agonies of pain that he felt sure he would die if he did not return at once.
Such is the kind of story that is current everywhere. It is a matter of common belief that the witch-doctor never has any children, and that this is a punishment from heaven. The influence of the missionaries brings them frequently into contact with strange happenings: one of them in Ta-ting. Miss Welzel was asked to visit a woman who had taken poison, to see if she could do anything for her: on inquiring into the case she was told that there had been no quarrel or any other known reason for her committing suicide. The woman said she had seen daemons come into the house through the window, who told her to take two ounces of opium in brandy, which she immediately did, after which she announced the fact to her family. They sent for Miss Welzel, but it was too late: the woman died a few moments after her arrival.