Having sent paiks to collect the people of the land, they, having surrounded them, caught the Meriah sacrificers.
Having caught the Meriah sacrificers, they brought them, and again they went and seized the evil councillors.
Having seen the chains and shackles, the people were afraid; murder and bloodshed were quelled.
Then the land became beautiful, and a certain Mokodella (Macpherson) Sahib came.
He destroyed the lairs of the tigers and bears in the hills and rocks, and taught wisdom to the people.
After the lapse of a month, he built bungalows and schools; and he advised them to learn reading and law.
They learnt wisdom and reading; they acquired silver and gold. Then all the people became wealthy.”
Human sacrifice was not practiced in the Kurtilli Muttah of the Ganjam Māliahs. The reason of this is assigned to the fact that the first attempt was made with a crooked knife, and the sacrificers made such a bad business of it that they gave it up. Colonel Campbell gives another tradition, that, through humanity, one of the Kurtilli Pātros (head of a group of villages) threatened to leave the muttah if the practice was carried out.
Of a substituted sacrifice, which was carried out in the Ganjam Māliahs in 1894,[169] the following graphic account has been given. “Suddenly we came upon a number of Khonds carrying an immensely long bamboo, about fifty feet in length, surmounted by a gorgeous sort of balloon made of red and white cloth stretched on a bamboo frame. Attached to this were dried strips of pig’s flesh, and the whole of the extraordinary structure was surmounted by a huge plume of peacock’s feathers that waved gaily in the breeze. Along with this was carried another bamboo, not so long, slung all over with iron bells. We found that the men had been worshipping, and presenting these structures to a sylvan deity close by, and were now hastening to the small Khond village of Dhuttiegaum, the scene of the present Meriah sacrifice. Half a mile brought us to this hamlet, situated amongst a dense grove of trees, in the midst of which was tied to a curiously fluted and carved wooden post the sacrificial buffalo, a placid animal, with its body glistening with the oil of many anointings. The huge bamboo pole, with its crown of red and white cloth and peacock’s feathers, and incongruous shreds of dried pig’s flesh, was now erected in the centre of the village. The comparative quiet in the village did not last long, for on a sudden the air was rent with a succession of shrieks. With the sound of the beating of Māliah drums, and the blowing of buffalo horns, a party of Khonds came madly dancing and rushing down a steep hillside from some neighbouring village. They dashed up to the buffalo, and began frantically dancing with the villagers already assembled round and round the animal. Each man carried a green bough of some tree, a sharp knife, and a tanghi. They were all adorned in holiday attire, their hair combed and knotted on the forehead, and profusely decorated with waving feathers. All of them were more or less intoxicated. Various other villagers now began to arrive, thick and fast, in the same manner, with wavings of green boughs, flourishing of knives, and hideous yells. Each party was led by the headman or Moliko of the village. The dancing now became more general, and faster and more furious, as more and more joined the human ‘merry go round,’ circling about the unfortunate buffalo. The women, who had followed their lords and masters at a discreet distance, stood sedately by in a group, and took no part whatever in the revels. They were for the most part fine buxom girls, well groomed and oiled, and stood demurely watching everything with their sharp black eyes. The hitherto quiet buffalo, who for nearly two days had been without food and water, now began to get excited, and, straining at its tether, plunged and butted at the dancers, catching one man neatly on the nose so that the blood flowed copiously. However, the Khonds were too excited to care, and circled round and round the poor maddened brute, singing and blowing horns into its ears, beating drums, and every now and then offering it cakes brought with them from their villages, and then laying them on the top of the post as offerings. As they thus madly careered about, we had ample time to note their extraordinary costumes. One man had somehow got hold of an old blue Police overcoat, which he had put on inside out, and round his waist he had gathered what seemed to be a number of striped tent carpets, forming a stiff ballet skirt or kilt. He was one of the most athletic in spinning round the buffalo, flourishing a kitchen chopper. Another man’s costume consisted of almost nothing at all. He had, however, profusely daubed his body with white and black spots, and on his head he had centred all his decorative genius. The head in question was swathed in yards of cloth, terminating at the back in a perfect cascade of cock’s feathers. He excitedly waved over this erection an ancient and very rusty umbrella, with many ventilations, with streamers of white cloth attached to the top. Others had tied on to their heads with bands of cloth the horns of buffaloes, or brass horns made in imitation of those of the spotted deer. Their long, black and curly hair hung in masses from beneath this strange erection, giving them a most startling appearance. The dancing round the buffalo lasted quite two hours, as they were waiting for the arrival of the Pātro, before concluding the final ceremonies, and the great man was fashionably late. To incite their jaded energies to further terpsichorean efforts, from time to time the dancers drank copious draughts of a kind of beer, used specially on these occasions, and made from kukuri, a species of grain. At last, the long expected Pātro arrived with the usual uproar of many deafening sounds, both artificial and natural, and with the waving of green boughs. On this occasion he walked last, while the whole of his retinue preceded him dancing, headed by an ancient and withered hag, carrying on her shoulders a Māliah drum of cow-hide stretched tightly over a hoop of iron, and vigorously beaten from behind her by a Khond with stiff thongs of dried leather. The great man himself walked sedately, followed by his ‘charger,’ a broken-kneed tat (pony), extraordinarily caparisoned, and led by a youth of tender years, whose sole garment consisted of a faded red drummer’s coat of antiquated cut. As soon as the Pātro had seated himself comfortably on a log near the dancers, a change came over the scene. The hitherto shouting and madly revolving throng stopped their gyrations round the stupefied beast, too much exhausted and frightened to offer any resistance, and, falling on its neck and body, began to smother it with caresses and endearments, and, to a low plaintive air, crooned and wailed over it, the following dirge, of which I append a rude translation. Tradition says that they used to sing it, with slight variations, over their human victims before the sacrifice:—
Blame us not, O buffalo!