Another very bad sign is when the cep pluì sings near the encampment. The Sakais consider it quite as unlucky as the grating screech of the night owl (birds kept in awe by the Sakais as being in familiarity with the Evil Spirit) on the roof of a house, or the spilling of salt is believed to be in many countries we know.
A few days before her confinement the woman picks up some leaves of the bakaù which have fallen to the ground and makes a decoction with them. She drinks a little every day, continuing the cure even after child-birth. I do not know the wherefore of this but the women seem to think it exercises a particular effect upon them at this period.
Immediately the child is born its mother takes the fruit of the buà kaluna and squeezes out a few drops into the little thing's mouth.
I have never been able to understand the reason of such a practice but believe that it is inspired by some superstition or hygienic rule of the natives.
The fruit of the buà kaluna is sweet but has also a rather tart flavour.
After seven days have passed the newly made mother leaves the hut and makes abundant ablutions that have the same character and scope as the religious duty imposed upon the Israelite women; that of respect for elementary hygiene.
From this moment the wife may return to her husband but she is not allowed to go into the forest and is obliged to wear upon her stomach a hot stone, which serves her as a cure and exorcism.
She returns to her faithful mate but she does not abandon her child whose separation from all other human beings, including its own father, cannot last for less than six months.
The birth and death of a Sakai, as here seen, is devoid of every rite or ceremony, as in the case of matrimony or divorce and do not require even the intervention of the Alà.