The Natural History of the Varieties of Man

by R. G. Latham

in his hands danced to the music, waving his weapon downwards on one side and so over the head, and then downwards on the other side and again over the head. He moved round the margin of the circle in the centre of which stood two others, one a Déóshi or priest, and the other an attendant or servitor called Phantwál. The priest, clothed in red cotton but not tonsured or otherwise distinguished from the rest of the party, muttered an invocation, whereof the burden or chorus was taken up by the thirteen forming the ring above noticed. The servitor had a water-pot in one hand and a brush in the other, and from time to time, as the rite proceeded, this person moved out of the circle to sprinkle with the holy water another actor in this strange ceremony and a principal one too. This is the Déódá, or the possessed, who when filled with the god answers by inspiration to the questions of the priests as to the prospects of the coming season. When we first discerned him, he was sitting on the ground panting, and rolling his eyes so significantly that I at once conjectured his function. Shortly afterwards, the rite still proceeding, the Déódá got up, entered the circle and commenced dancing with the rest, but more wildly. He held a short staff in his hand, with which, from time to time, he struck the bedizened poles, one by one, and lowering it as he struck. The chief dancer with the odd-shaped instrument waxed more and more vehement in his dance; the inspired grew more and more maniacal; the music more and more rapid; the incantation more and more solemn and earnest; till at last, amid a general lowering of the heads of the decked bamboo poles, so that they met and formed a canopy over him, the Déódá went off in an affected fit, and the ceremony closed without any revelation—a circumstance which must be ascribed to the presence of the sceptical strangers; for it is faith alone that worketh miracles and only among and for the faithful. This ceremony is performed annually by the Rajah of Sikim's orders, or rather with his sanction of the usages of his subjects; is addressed to the sun, the moon, the elemental gods, and, above all, to the rivers; and is designed to ensure health and plenty in the coming year, as well as to ascertain, beforehand, its promise or prospect through the revelations of the Déódá. With regard to the festival sacred to the national or homebred (noöni) gods, called Aihuno[19] by the Bodo, and Pochima páká by the Dhimáls, it is to be observed that the rite, like the separate class of deities adored thereby, is more distinctively Bodo than Dhimál. With both people the pre-eminence of water among the elements is conspicuous; but whereas the river gods of the Dhimáls have nearly absorbed all the rest, elementary or other, the household gods of the Bodo stand conspicuously distinguished from the fluviatile deities. The Pochima and Timáng of the Dhimáls are one or both rivers: the Bátho and Mainang of the Bodo are neither of them rivers, and their interparietal rites are as clearly distinguished from the rites performed abroad to the fluviatile and other elemental gods. However, the rites of Báthó and Mainou are participated by deities of elementary and watery nature, and, on the other hand, the Dhimáls assert that Pochima and Timai have a twofold character, one of river gods (Dhorla and Tishta), and one of supreme gods; and they that are adored, separately, in these two characters, the Pochima páká, or home-rite of October, being appropriated to them in the latter capacity of that of supreme gods. I have not witnessed the Pochima páká, and therefore speak with hesitation. The Ai húnó is performed as follows. The friends and family being assembled, including as many persons as the master of the house can afford to feast, the Déóshi or priest enters the enclosure or yard of the house, in the centre of which is invariably planted a Sij or Euphorbia, as the representative of Bátho who is the family as well as national god of the Bodo. The Báthó, thus represented, the Déóshi offers prayers, and sacrifices a cock. He then proceeds into the house, adores Mainou, and sacrifices to her a hog. Next, the priest, the family, and all the friends proceed to some convenient and pleasant spot in the vicinity, previously selected, and at which a little temporary shed has been erected as an altar, and there, with due ceremonies, another hog is sacrificed to Agráng, a he-goat to Manásho and to Búli, and a fowl, duck, or pigeon (black, red, or white, according to the special and well known taste of each god) to each of the remaining nine of the Noöni madai. The blood of the sacrifice belongs to the gods—the flesh to his worshippers, and these now hold a high feast, at which beer and tobacco are freely used to animate the joyous conclave, but not spirits, nor opium, nor hemp. The goddess Mainou is represented in the interior of each house, by a bamboo post, about three feet high, fixed in the ground, and surmounted by a small earthen cup filled with rice. Before this symbol is the great annual sacrifice of the hog above noted, performed; and before this, the females of the family once a month, make offerings of eggs. For the males, due attention to the four annual festivals is deemed sufficient in prosperous and healthful seasons. But sickness or scarcity always begets special rites and ceremonies, suited to the circumstances of the calamity, and addressed more particularly to the elemental gods, if the calamity be drought, or blight, or devastations of wild animals—to the household gods, if it be sickness. Hunters, likewise, and fishers, when they go forth to the chase, sacrifice a fowl to the Sylvan gods, to promote their success; and lastly, those who have a petition to prefer to their superiors, conceive that a similar propitiation of Jishim and Mishim, or of the Chiris, will tend to the fulfilment of their requests. And this, I think, is nearly the whole amount of rites and ceremonies, which their religion prescribes to the Bodo and Dhimáls. And anxious as I am fully to illustrate the topic, I will not try the patience of my readers by describing all that variety of black victims and white, of red victims and blue, which each particular deity is alleged to prefer; first, because the subject is intrinsically trifling; and second because the diverse statements of my informants lead me to suspect, that the matter is optional or discretionary with each individual priest prescribing these minutiæ. I have mentioned the rude symbols proper to Báthó and Mainou. None of the other gods seem to have any at all, though a low line of kneaded clay attached to the Thalí that surrounds the sacred Euphorbia in the yards of the Bodo is said to stand for the rest of the divinities who, as I have already said, are wont to be worshipped collectively rather than individually; and thus the sun, the moon, and the earth, though adored by Bodo and by Dhimál, have no separate rites, but are included in those appropriated to the elemental gods. Witchcraft is universally dreaded by both Bodo and Dhimál. The names of the craft and of its professors, male and female, will be found in the vocabulary. Witches (Dain and Mháï) are supposed to owe their noxious power to their own wicked studies, or to the aid of preternatural beings. When any person is afflicted, the elders assemble and summon three Ojhás or exorcists, with whose aid and that of a cane freely used, the elders endeavour to extort from the witch a confession of the fact and the motives. By dint of questioning and of beating, the witch is generally brought to confession, when he or she is asked to remove the spell, and to heal the sufferer, means of propitiating preternatural allies (if their agency be alleged) being at the same time tendered to the witch, who is, however, forthwith expelled the district, and put across the next river, with the concurrence of the local authorities. No other sorcery or black art save that of witches is known; nor palmistry, augury, astrology, nor, in a word, any other supposed command of the future than that described in the 'Wa galéno' as the attribute (for the nonce) of the Déódá or vates. The evil eye causes some alarm to Bodo and to Dhimál who call it mogon nángo and mí nójó respectively, and who cautiously avoid the evil-eyed person, but cannot eject him from the community. The influence of the evil eye is sought to be neutralised by offerings of parched millet and eggs to Khoja Kajah and Mansha Rajah—Dii minores who find no place in my catalogue, ample as it is. Moïsh madai, I am told, likewise claims a place in the Bodo Pantheon, and a distinguished place, too, as the protector of this forest-dwelling people from beasts of prey, and especially the tiger.

"Priesthood.—The priesthood of the Bodo and Dhimáls is entirely the same, even to the nomenclature, which with both people expresses the three sorts of clergy by the terms Déóshi, Dhámi and Ojhá. The Dhámi (seniores priores!) is the district priest. The Déóshi the village priest; and the Ojhá the village exorcist. The Déóshi has under him one servitor called Phantwál. There is a Déóshi in nearly every village. Over a small circle of villages one Dhámi presides and possesses a vaguely defined but universally recognised control over the Déóshis of his district. The general constitutions and functions of the clerical body have already been fully explained. Priests are subject to no peculiar restraints, nor marked by any external sign of diverse dress or other. The connexion between pastor and flock is full of liberty for the latter, who collectively can eject their priest if they disapprove him, or individually can desert him for another if they please. He marries and cultivates like his flock, and all that he can claim from them for his services is, first, a share of every animal sacrificed by him, and second, three days' help from each of his flock (the grown males) per annum, towards the clearing and cultivation of the land, he holds on the same terms with them, and which have already been explained. Whoever thinks fit to learn the forms of offering, sacrifice, and accompanying invocation, can be a priest; and if he get tired of the profession, he can throw it up when he will. Ojhás stand not on the same footing with Dhámis and Déóshis: they are remunerated solely by fees; but into either office—priests or exorcists—the form of induction is similar, consisting merely of an introduction by the priests or exorcists of the neophyte to the gods, the first time he officiates. One Dhámi and two Déóshis usually induct a Déóshi—three Ojhás, an Ojhá; and the formula is literally that of an introduction—'this is so and so, who proposes, O ye gods! to dedicate himself to your service: mark how he performs the rites, and, if correctly, accept them at his hands.'"

These remarks will conclude with the notice of an ethnological question of primary importance, but not yet laid before the reader, viz.: the extent to which certain varieties of the human species can live and thrive in localities which are either deleterious or deadly to others. Some rough facts of the kind in question are generally known; such, for instance, as the tolerance on the part of the Negro of the heat and malaria of the tropical climates. A similar tolerance of climatologic influences otherwise deleterious is shewn by the Bodo, and its allied tribes. According to Mr. Hodgson, none but themselves can live in their own localities; since "the Saul forest everywhere, but especially to the east of the Kósi, is malarious to an extent which no human beings can endure, save the remarkable races, which for ages have made it their dwelling-place. To all others, European or native, it is deadly from April to November. Yet the Dhimál, the Bodo, the Kíchak, the Tharú, the Dénwár, not only live but thrive in it, exhibiting no symptoms whatever of that dreadful stricken aspect of countenance and form which marks the victim of malaria."

The converse of this position, or the incapacity of the Bodo, &c., for living elsewhere, is also mentioned by Mr. Hodgson, but with an expression of doubt as to its accuracy. "The Bodo and Dhimáls, whom I communicated with, alleged that they cannot endure the climate of the open plains, where the heat gives them fevers. This is a mere excuse for their known aversion to quit the forest; for their eastern brethren dwell and till like natives in the open plains of Assam, just as the Kóls of south Bihár (Dhángars) do now in every part of the plains of Bihár and Bengal, in various sites abroad, and lastly in the lofty sub-Himálayas."

The Bodo tribes will again be brought prominently forward when the ethnology of the peninsula of India is discussed.

THE TRIBES OF SIKKIM AND NEPAL SPEAKING MONOSYLLABIC LANGUAGES.

Each of these countries, although south of the Himalayas, and although to a great extent Hindu in religion, government, and language, must be looked upon as countries of which the aboriginal population is an extension of that of Tibet. The tribes of Sikkim and Nepal are Cis-Himalayan Tibetans; the word Tibetan being used in its general sense.

1. The Magars.—Imperfectly Braminical in their religion, with a separate monosyllabic language, and remains of their old Paganism. Their priests were called Damis.[20]

2. The Gurungs.—Adherents to Buddhism. Inhabitants of the same localities with the Magars; only higher in the mountains.