The Badaga folk, mountaineers of the Neilgherries, insure their children against accidents and sickness by talismans made of the earth and ashes of funeral pyres. They think the souls of the departed are so vexed at finding themselves in a novel condition that they are liable to kill people even without a motive. When an epidemic breaks out, they lay the blame on the person who died last, who is going about the country taking vengeance on his kindred.[66]
Monier Williams says they endeavour to induce the demon of pestilence, of typhoid fever, of the plague of rats or caterpillars, to enter into the body of a dancer, who acts as a medium and has power to exorcise the angry spirit. He has power to let loose rot or farcy amongst the flocks and herds, so the medium has to be conciliated. The Corumba of these mountain people is a wizard, the sicknesses of men and animals are all set down to his account. “Gratified by the evil reputation the Corumba enjoy, they offer to undo what they are supposed to have done, to remove the spells they are accused of having cast. The wheat is smutty, the flocks have the scab? Somebody’s head aches, some one’s stomach is out of order? One of these rogues turns up, offers to eject the demon; as it happens, the evil spirit is one of his particular cronies! He will cast out Beelzebub by Beelzebub.”[67]
Amongst the Western Inoits, says Elie Reclus,[68] the magician of the people is called Angakok, signifying the “Great” or “the Ancient,” and he is guide, instructor, wonder-worker, physician, and priest. He accumulates in himself all influences; “he is public counsellor, justice of the peace, arbitrator in public and private affairs, artist of all kinds, poet, actor, buffoon.” Supposed to be in contact and close communication with the superior beings of the world of spirits, and to harbour in his body many demons of various kinds, he is supposed to be invested with omnipotence, he can chase away the disease-demons, and put even death itself to flight. The angakok defends his people from the demons who take the form of cancers, rheumatism, paralysis, and skin diseases. He exorcises the sick man with stale urine, like the Bochiman poison-doctors.[69]
The Cambodians exorcise the small-pox demon with the urine of a white horse.[70]
Thiers (Des Superstitions), quoted by Reclus, says that Slavonic rustics asperse their cattle with herbs of St. John boiled in urine to keep ill-luck away from them; and that French peasant women used to wash their hands in their own urine, or in that of their husbands and children, to prevent evil enchantments doing them harm. Reclus says: “When a diagnosis puzzles an angakok, he has recourse to a truly ingenious proceeding. He fastens to the invalid’s head a string, the other end of which is attached to a stick; this he raises, feels, balances on his hand, and turns in every direction. Various operations follow, having for their object the forcible removal of the spider from the luckless wretch whose flesh it devours. He will cleanse and set to rights as much as he is able—whence his name ‘Mender of Souls.’ A wicked witch, present though invisible, can undo the efforts of the conjurer, and even communicate to him the disease, rendering him the victim of his devotion; black magic can display more power than white magic. Then, seeing the case to be desperate, the honest angakok summons, if possible, one or more brethren, and the physicians of souls strive in concert to comfort the dying man; with a solemn voice they extol the felicities of Paradise, chanting softly a farewell canticle, which they accompany lightly upon the drum.”[71]
The superstitious natives of the Lower Congo have a singular custom, when anybody dies, of compelling some victim or other to drink a poison made from the bark of the Erythrophlœum guineensis. It usually acts as a powerful emetic, and is administered in the hope that it may “bring up” the devil. Their medicine-man is called nganga, and he is taught a language quite different from the ordinary tongue, and this is kept secret from females. “No one,” says Mr. H. H. Johnston (“On the Races of the Congo”),[72] “has yet been able to examine into their sacred tongue.” The use of Latin by civilized doctors is not unlike this African custom.
The mountaineers of the Neilgherries endeavour to induce the demon they invoke to enter into the body of the “medium,” a dancer who pretends to the intoxication of prophecy. If they can persuade the demon of pestilence or typhoid fever to enter into the medium, it becomes possible to act upon and influence him.[73]
The people of Tartary make a great puppet when fever is prevalent, which they call the Demon of Intermittent Fevers, and which when completed they set up in the tent of the patients.
Mr. Forbes, in his account of the tribes of the island of Timor, says that the natives believe all diseases to be the result of sorcery, and they carry a variety of herbs and charms to avert its influence. He says: “I had as a servant an old man, who one morning complained of being in a very discomposed and generally uncomfortable state, and of being afraid he was going to die. He had seen, he said, the spirit of his mother in the night, she had been present by him and had spoken with him. He feared, therefore, that he was about to die. He begged of me some tobacco and rice to offer to her, which I gave him. He retired a little way to a great stone in the ground, and laying on it some betel and pinang, with a small quantity of chalk, along with a little tobacco and rice, he repeated for some eight or ten minutes an invocation which I did not understand. The rice and the chalk he left on the stone, which were very shortly after devoured by my fowls; the tobacco, betel, and pinang he took away again, to be utilised by himself.”[74]
When the medicine-man of these tribes calls to see a patient, he looks very closely at him, to endeavour to perceive the sorcerer who is making him ill. Then he returns to his home and makes up some medicines, which the happy patient has not however to swallow, but the drugs having been packed by the doctor into a bundle with a small stone, are thrown away as far as possible from the sick man; the stone finds out the sorcerer and returns to the doctor, who gives it to his patient and tells him it will cure him if he will wear it about his neck. This affords another illustration of the universal belief of the value of amulets in medicine.