The fatal edict having been pronounced, the child is placed in a new earthen vessel (which has been painted in red and black stripes), the cover is fastened down, and the jar is buried. Some flowers and rice are laid on the cover, and, after the earth is filled in, a fowl is sacrificed upon the poor little victim’s grave.
Before leaving these remarkable tribes, we will glance slightly at one or two of their most characteristic customs.
Their weapons are very simple, consisting of a curious sword fixed to a gauntlet, the bow and arrow, and the axe. The last is the national weapon of the Khonds, and in its use they are wonderfully adroit. General Campbell mentions that a British officer was out in the evening for the purpose of shooting a bear, but only wounded the animal slightly, instead of killing it outright. The bear started for the hills, but was pursued by several Khonds, who overtook it, got between the hill and the bear, and then, armed only with their axes, attacked and hacked the animal to pieces. These axes are about four feet long in the handle, and have but small heads. These, however, are made of good steel, and in the practised hand of a Khond the axe is a weapon much more formidable than it looks. This exhibition of courage is the more remarkable, because the actors in it were Meriah men who had been rescued from sacrifice. The sword that has been mentioned is a comparatively rare weapon, and belongs rather to the Ooryahs than to the Khonds proper.
The Khond tribes seem to be rather fond of quarrelling among each other, and carry on a kind of desultory or guerilla warfare. Pitched battles they dislike, preferring to steal cattle from their opponents, and to kill them by stealth, to meeting them in open fight. Indeed, they pride themselves on doing as much injury as possible to their antagonists, while receiving the least possible harm themselves. Accordingly, when the delegates of two inimical tribes meet for the purpose of restoring peace, some very absurd scenes take place. The umpires call upon the representatives of the tribes to declare the number of cattle stolen and men killed; and it is generally found that the latter item is equally balanced, neither party caring to acknowledge that a man of their own tribe has been killed, unless the adversaries can prove it. They cannot but admit that the man was killed, but attribute his death to accident, such as being carried off by a tiger, or bitten by a snake.
Pride forms a great element in the Khond character. The people are fond of their land, and nothing can induce a Khond to sell one yard of ground to a foreigner, nor even to part with a single tree that grows on that soil. Generally, they are too proud to barter, but leave that business to the Pannoo tribes, by whom, as may be remembered, the Meriah victims are generally furnished. Among the Khonds there are but two employments worthy of their dignity, i. e. warfare and agriculture, and all persons are despised who carry on any other profession or business, even though they may profit by it themselves. Yet there is no system of caste among them, such as we find among the Hindoos, neither have they any prejudice in regard of diet, except perhaps a dislike to milk.
As to the religion of the Khonds, it is of the simplest description, and their worship is practically comprised in the Meriah sacrifice. There are certain very barbarous sacred images to be found in the hill districts, but no one seems to care or even to know much about them, and the priests, or medicine men, are as ignorant or careless on the subject as the people in general. It ought to be mentioned that very elaborate accounts have been published respecting the religion of the Khonds, their vast army of deities, and their quadruple souls. But there is now no doubt that the information upon which these accounts were based was simply invented by the narrators in order to suit their own purposes.
Putting aside the Meriah system, the Khonds have several superstitions in which they firmly believe, and the strangest of them is their idea that certain human beings can transform themselves into tigers. These persons are called “Pulta Bags,” and are very much dreaded by the people, upon whose fears they intentionally play for the purpose of extortion. Knowing that the ignorant people believe them to be possessed of such a power, they extort food, clothing, and other property from them at intervals, saying that they are poor, and unless supplied with the necessaries of life, they will be forced to transform themselves into tigers, and to carry off the cattle.
General Campbell mentions an instance where he was brought in contact with, or rather in opposition to, this superstition. An excited crowd came to him, accompanied by several armed men, who guarded two women. One of the men then said that he and his son were in the jungle cutting firewood, when a tiger sprang upon the lad and carried him off. The father pursued the animal, shouting after it until it turned the corner of the rock, when it disappeared, and on the top of the rock were then seen the two women. The case was clear. These two women were Pulta Bags. While in the tiger form they had carried off his son, but, alarmed by his shouts, had hidden the body of the lad and resumed their human shapes.
On being questioned, the women acknowledged that the story was true, and that they did possess the power attributed to them. General Campbell then offered to release them, provided that they would transform themselves into tigers in his presence. This, to his astonishment, they agreed to do, provided that he accompanied them to a neighboring jungle. Finding, however, that the English general was not so easily frightened as a Khond warrior, and that they would be taken at their word, they threw themselves at his feet, and acknowledged their imposture.
A remarkable instance of this belief is narrated by the same writer. A brave little Khond, belonging to the irregular force, was engaged in a conflict when several of the enemy were killed, among whom was one who was shot by his own hand. Instead of being proud of his exploit, he was seized with terror, declaring that the man whom he had killed was a Pulta Bag, and that he would assume the shape of a tiger and avenge himself. After the campaign was over, he obtained leave to visit his family, and, previous to his departure, he brought his uniform, asking that care might be taken of it, as he felt sure that he should never wear it again. He joined his family, and lived with them for some weeks, when, as he was watching his cattle, a tiger sprang on him, and wounded him so cruelly that he shortly died. Nothing could persuade him that the tiger was not the man whom he had shot, and the event only strengthened the hold which the superstition has on the native mind.