Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1876-03-21

DEVIL.DANCING IN SOUTHERN INDIA.

|
1t is an extremely difficult thing for
European to witness devil-dance. As
rule, he must 60 disguised, and he must
be able to speak the language like ma
tive, before he is likely to be admitted
without suspicion into the charmed circle
OF fascinated devotees, each eager to press
near the possessed priest, to ask him ques-
| tions about the future while the. divine
affiatus is in its full force upon him. Let
me try once more to bring the whole scene
vividly before the reader. Night, starry
and beautiful, with broad low moon seen
through palms. A still, solemn night,
with few sounds to mar the silence, save
the deep, muifled boom of breakers burst
ing on TIE coast full eight miles distant.
A lonely hut, solitary banyan-tree, grim
and gloomy. All round spread intermn.
able sands, the only vegetation on which
is composed Of lofty palmyran, and few
stunted thorn-trees and wlld figs. In the
midst of this wilderness rises, spectre-like
that aged. enormous tree, the banyan,
haunted by most ruthless she-devil.
Cholera is abroad in the land, and the ma
tives know that it is she who has sent them
the dreaded pestilence. The whole neigh
borhood wakes to the determination that
the malignant power must be Immediately
propitiated in the most solemn and effect
ual manner. The appointed night arrives;
| out of village, and hamlet, and hut pours
| the wild crowd of men, and women, and
children. In vain the Brahmins tinkle
their bells at the neighboring temple; the
people know what they want. and the deitv
which they must reverence as supreme
Just now. On flows the crowd to that
gloomy island in the star-lit waste-that
weird, hoary banyan. The circle is form
ed; the fire is lit; the offerings are got
ready-goats and fowls, and rice and pulse
and sugar, and ghee and honey, and white
chaplets of oleander blossoms and jasmine
buds. The tom-toms are beaten, more
loudly and rapidly, the hum of rustic con-
verse is stilled, and deep hush of awe
struck expectancy holds the motley assem-
blage Now the low, rickety door of the
hut is quickly dashed open. The devil
dancer staggers out, Between the hut
and the ebon shadow of the sacred banyan
lies strip of moonlit sand, and as he
passes this the devotees can clearly see
their priest. He is tall, haggard, pen-
sive man. with deep-sunken eyes and mat
ted hair. His forehead is smeared with
ashes, and there are streaks of vermilion
and saffron over his face. He wears a
| high conical cap. white, with red tassel.
! A long white robe, or angi, shrouds him
| from neck to ankle. On it are worked, in
led silk. representations of the goddess of
small pox, murder, and cholera. Round
his ankles are massive silver bangles. In
his right hand he holds staff Q spear,
that jingles harshly every time the ground
is struck by it. The same hand also holds
bow, which, when the strings are pulled
or struck, emits dull booming sound.
In his left hand the devil-priest carries his
sacrificial knife, shaped like sickle, with
quaint devices engraved on its blade. The
dancer. with uncertain, staggering motion
reels slowly into the center OF the crowd,
and then. seats himself. The assembled
people show him the Offering they intend
to present. but he appears wholly uncon-
scious. He croons an Indian lay in low.
dreamy voice with dropped eye-lids and
head sunken on his breast He sways
slowly to and fro, from side to side.
Look! You can see his fingers twitch ner-
vously. His head begins to wag in
strange, uncanny fashion. His sides heave
and quiver, and huge drops of perspira-
ton exude from his skin. The tom-toms
are beaten faster, the pipes and reeds wall
out more loudly. There is sudden yell,
a singing, stunning cry, an ear-piercing
shrek, a hideous, abominable gobble-gob-
bic of helish laughter, and the devil-dan-
Ger has sprung to his feet, with eyes pro-
truding, mouth foaming, chest heavlng,
muscles quivering, and outstretched arms
swollen and straining as if they were cru
Gifted Now, ever and anon, the quick,
sharp words are erked out of the saliva
choked mouth-'I am God l am the
true Cod" Then all around him, since he
and no idol is regarded as the present de-
| ity, reeks the blood of sacrifice. The de-
votees crowd round to offer oblations and
TO solicit answers to their questions.
"Shall die of cholera during this vista
tion?" asks a gray-headed farmer of the
neighborhood. 80 God, bless this child,
and heal it," cries poor mother from the
adjoining hamlet, as she holds forth her
diseased babe toward the gyrating priest.
Shrieks, VOWS, imprecations, prayers, and
exclamations of thankful praise rise up,
all blended together in one Internal hub
bub. Above all rise the ghastly cultural
laughter of the devil-dancer. and his stem
torian howls-"I am God am the only
true Cod" He cuts and hacks and hews
himself, and not very unfrequently kills
himself there and then. His answers to
the queries put to him are generally inco-
herent. Sometimes he is sullenly silent,
and sometimes, while the blood from his
self inflicted wounds mingles freely with
that of his sacrifice, he is most benign.
and showers his divine favors OF health
and prosperity all round him. Hours pass
by. The trembling crowd stand rooted to
the spot. Suddenly the dancer gives a
great bound in the air; when he descends
he is motioness. The fiendish look has
vanished from his eyes. His demoniacal
laughter is still. He speaks to this and to
that neighbor quietly and reasonably. He
lays aside his garb, washes his face at the
nearest rivulet, and walks soberly home a
modest. well-conducted man.-Comempo
rary Reriew