________________
SEPTEMBER, 1898.)
SPIRIT BASIS OF BELIEF AND CUSTOM.
241
rest of the space is filled with spectators, men, women and girls, looking in through the cloth screens which are hung all round. The musicians begin drumming and clashing, the leading drummer singing a plaintive air. After a time Jodâ grows uneasy. He begins to shake. He is sitting with his arms stretched out along his knees. "Ho! Ho!" Jôdâ pants, "Kodiar Mata," meaning "I Kodiar Matâ," that is, Mother Itch, "have come into Jôda." "It is well, Balai," says the drummer, and starts a fresh air in Kodiảr's praise, while Jôda shakes and tosses his head, smelling the fumes of a small incense pot placed between his knees. "Ho! Ho!" pants Joda, rubbing his eye against his hand, while the music stops. "On the Umêtha Hill," he gasps in a weak voice, “no hindrance is to be caused to man or cattle." " Very good, lady !" chimes in the putel and the chief drummer. The music strikes a fresh air. Jôdâ shouts :- "May it be well," adding with a husky gasp or whisper, " Kalka Mata." "Ali will be well," says the pat&l. Jôda keeps on shaking with his elbows planted on his raised knees. “Ho ! Ho! Ho!" he pants, "may it be well." He adds in a low voice :- "Mahtari Mata," the Mahi River. “May all be well," answers the patel with deep respect. The drums roar and cymbals clash in praise of the Mahi while Jôdê goes on shaking. He rests for a time, the music keeping moderate strength. “Ho! Ho!” he says, as the spirit breeze strikes him afresh. "May it be well. Ha! Ha! Shikotar," he whispers, as the drums cease. The music opens a fresh plaintive wait in honour of Shikótâr, the Small-pox Mother. Jôdê goes on shaking. A fiercer fit strikes him. The musicians beat and clash their noisiest. "Ho! Ho!" sighs JadA as the music drops, “Lalbai and Phalbai." The music starts afresh, Joda shaking. “Ho! Ho! Morall," he shouts aloud, the music freshens and the drummers sing in honour of Mêrali or Mack Mother. Jodâ moves his hand, and the singing ceases. He pants:- “If any man is troubled with a bhút or evil spirit, I will drive the bhút away. You should not call me Mêralt. The drummer breaks into a fresh song. "Ho! Ho!” Jôdå shivers, "may it be well." The music drops, and the whisper comes :- "Harka Bai, Lady Madness." The music starts again. At a motion of Jôda's hand it ceases. Jodå pants and shakes, whis. pering :- "If ever a dog is mad and the men bitten remembers me he will get no harm." The music starts afresh, the drummer singing in honor of Harka Bâi. Jodå goes on shaking and rubbing his eyes. By degrees the shaking grows less violent, and he sits quiet for a little. The music keeps on. Presently a fresh spasm strikes Jodå. He shivers once more, and the music strikes up fiercer than ever. "Ho! Ho!” he gasps as the music stops. "May it be well, Bhatyi Khatri," he adds in the usual stage whisper. "May it be well," chimes the patel. Jodå drops fresh incense in the pan, and again starts shivering with special fierceness. “Ah! Eh ! Ho!” he pants, “may it be well. I am Måtâ's guard, KAl Bhairava is my name," "Right, Your Highness," says the patél, "may it be well." Jodâ shakes sharply. He motions to a boy to pour water into a tumbler and drop in sugar. This sugared water is poured into an egg cap and Jôdå drinks. He again trembles violently. "Ho! Ho!” he shouts, "may it be well. Lady Kodiar," he adds with the usual shudder. He moves his hand and the music is qniet. "See that any one who is in trouble or in fever let me know. I will put him right." JodA goes on shaking and the drummer sings Kodiar's praise. One of the lights which was set on a flat maize cake goes ont. Jodâ stops shaking and takes the cake and divides it among the musicians. Jódâ sits quietly and puts on his cap. He says: "Let any one who is in trouble and wants help come." He sits quietly, and the drumming and cymballing going on. Jodå fans the incense pan.
A boy, a Rawalia Sidhrol, who has been ill for about three months, comes, and Jôda sets the boy in front of himself. He takes a lighted wick and passes it ronnd tre boy's body and sets it on the boy's head. He bends over the lighted wick, grasps it in his lips, and puts it out in his mouth. The boy sits quietly. The drummers and cymbal-clashers pour forth a torrent of noise. The boy remains quiet and Jôdân sits looking at him. Jódà shouts to the disease spirit :- "Come into this boy's body or I will kill you." The boy begins to shake. The droms and cymbals grow louder. Jocê keeps his eye fixed on the boy. The boy shakes violently. "Who are you p" asks the drummer. "Dakan," that is, a witch, shivers the boy,
