The Golden Bough

                      A Study in Magic and Religion

                                    By

               James George Frazer, D.C.L., LL.D., Litt.D.

                   Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge

     Professor of Social Anthropology in the University of Liverpool

                             Vol. XI. of XII.

                     Part VII: Balder the Beautiful.

   The Fire-Festivals of Europe and the Doctrine of the External Soul.

                               Vol. 2 of 2.

                           New York and London

                            MacMillan and Co.

                                   1913





CONTENTS


Chapter VI. Fire-Festivals in Other Lands.
   § 1. The Fire-walk.
   § 2. The Meaning of the Fire-walk.
Chapter VII. The Burning of Human Beings in the Fires.
   § 1. The Burning of Effigies in the Fires.
   § 2. The Burning of Men and Animals in the Fires.
Chapter VIII. The Magic Flowers of Midsummer Eve.
Chapter IX. Balder and the Mistletoe.
Chapter X. The Eternal Soul in Folk-Tales.
Chapter XI. The External Soul in Folk-Custom.
   § 1. The External Soul in Inanimate Things.
   § 2. The External Soul in Plants.
   § 3. The External Soul in Animals.
   § 4. A Suggested Theory of Totemism.
   § 5. The Ritual of Death and Resurrection.
Chapter XII. The Golden Bough.
Chapter XIII. Farewell to Nemi.
Notes.
   I. Snake Stones.
   II. The Transformation of Witches Into Cats.
   III. African Balders.
   IV. The Mistletoe and the Golden Bough.
Index.
Footnotes






                               [Cover Art]

[Transcriber’s Note: The above cover image was produced by the submitter
at Distributed Proofreaders, and is being placed into the public domain.]





CHAPTER VI. FIRE-FESTIVALS IN OTHER LANDS.




§ 1. The Fire-walk.


(M1) At first sight the interpretation of the European fire customs as
charms for making sunshine is confirmed by a parallel custom observed by
the Hindoos of Southern India at the Pongol or Feast of Ingathering. The
festival is celebrated in the early part of January, when, according to
Hindoo astrologers, the sun enters the tropic of Capricorn, and the chief
event of the festival coincides with the passage of the sun. For some days
previously the boys gather heaps of sticks, straw, dead leaves, and
everything that will burn. On the morning of the first day of the festival
the heaps are fired. Every street and lane has its bonfire. The young folk
leap over the flames or pile on fresh fuel. This fire is an offering to
Sûrya, the sun-god, or to Agni, the deity of fire; it “wakes him from his
sleep, calling on him again to gladden the earth with his light and
heat.”(1) If this is indeed the explanation which the people themselves
give of the festival, it seems decisive in favour of the solar explanation
of the fires; for to say that the fires waken the sun-god from his sleep
is only a metaphorical or mythical way of saying that they actually help
to rekindle the sun’s light and heat. But the hesitation which the writer
indicates between the two distinct deities of sun and fire seems to prove
that he is merely giving his own interpretation of the rite, not reporting
the views of the celebrants. If that is so, the expression of his opinion
has no claim to authority.

(M2) A festival of Northern India which presents points of resemblance to
the popular European celebrations which we have been considering is the
Holi. This is a village festival held in early spring at the full moon of
the month Phalgun. Large bonfires are lit and young people dance round
them. The people believe that the fires prevent blight, and that the ashes
cure disease. At Barsana the local village priest is expected to pass
through the Holi bonfire, which, in the opinion of the faithful, cannot
burn him. Indeed he holds his land rent-free simply on the score of his
being fire-proof. On one occasion when the priest disappointed the
expectant crowd by merely jumping over the outermost verge of the
smouldering ashes and then bolting into his cell, they threatened to
deprive him of his benefice if he did not discharge his spiritual
functions better when the next Holi season came round. Another feature of
the festival which has, or once had, its counterpart in the corresponding
European ceremonies is the unchecked profligacy which prevails among the
Hindoos at this time.(2) In Kumaon, a district of North-West India, at the
foot of the Himalayas, each clan celebrates the Holi festival by cutting
down a tree, which is thereupon stripped of its leaves, decked with shreds
of cloth, and burnt at some convenient place in the quarter of the town
inhabited by the clan. Some of the songs sung on this occasion are of a
ribald character. The people leap over the ashes of the fire, believing
that they thus rid themselves of itch and other diseases of the skin.
While the trees are burning, each clan tries to carry off strips of cloth
from the tree of another clan, and success in the attempt is thought to
ensure good luck. In Gwalior large heaps of cow-dung are burnt instead of
trees. Among the Marwaris the festival is celebrated by the women with
obscene songs and gestures. A monstrous and disgusting image of a certain
Nathuram, who is said to have been a notorious profligate, is set up in a
bazaar and then smashed with blows of shoes and bludgeons while the
bonfire of cow-dung is blazing. No household can be without an image of
Nathuram, and on the night when the bride first visits her husband, the
image of this disreputable personage is placed beside her couch. Barren
women and mothers whose children have died look to Nathuram for
deliverance from their troubles.(3) Various stories are told to account
for the origin of the Holi festival. According to one legend it was
instituted in order to get rid of a troublesome demon (_rákshasí_). The
people were directed to kindle a bonfire and circumambulate it, singing
and uttering fearlessly whatever might come into their minds. Appalled by
these vociferations, by the oblations to fire, and by the laughter of the
children, the demon was to be destroyed.(4)

(M3) In the Chinese province of Fo-Kien we also meet with a vernal
festival of fire which may be compared to the fire-festivals of Europe.
The ceremony, according to an eminent authority, is a solar festival in
honour of the renewal of vegetation and of the vernal warmth. It falls in
April, on the thirteenth day of the third month in the Chinese calendar,
and is doubtless connected with the ancient custom of renewing the fire,
which, as we saw, used to be observed in China at this season.(5) The
chief performers in the ceremony are labourers, who refrain from women for
seven days, and fast for three days before the festival. During these days
they are taught in the temple how to discharge the difficult and dangerous
duty which is to be laid upon them. On the eve of the festival an enormous
brazier of charcoal, sometimes twenty feet wide, is prepared in front of
the temple of the Great God, the protector of life. At sunrise next
morning the brazier is lighted and kept burning by fresh supplies of fuel.
A Taoist priest throws a mixture of salt and rice on the fire to conjure
the flames and ensure an abundant year. Further, two exorcists, barefooted
and followed by two peasants, traverse the fire again and again till it is
somewhat beaten down. Meantime the procession is forming in the temple.
The image of the god of the temple is placed in a sedan-chair, resplendent
with red paint and gilding, and is carried forth by a score or more of
barefooted peasants. On the shafts of the sedan-chair, behind the image,
stands a magician with a dagger stuck through the upper parts of his arms
and grasping in each hand a great sword, with which he essays to deal
himself violent blows on the back; however, the strokes as they descend
are mostly parried by peasants, who walk behind him and interpose bamboo
rods between his back and the swords. Wild music now strikes up, and under
the excitement caused by its stirring strains the procession passes thrice
across the furnace. At their third passage the performers are followed by
other peasants carrying the utensils of the temple; and the rustic mob,
electrified by the frenzied spectacle, falls in behind. Strange as it may
seem, burns are comparatively rare. Inured from infancy to walking
barefoot, the peasants can step with impunity over the glowing charcoal,
provided they plant their feet squarely and do not stumble; for usage has
so hardened their soles that the skin is converted into a sort of leathery
or horny substance which is almost callous to heat. But sometimes, when
they slip and a hot coal touches the sides of their feet or ankles, they
may be seen to pull a wry face and jump out of the furnace amid the
laughter of the spectators. When this part of the ceremony is over, the
procession defiles round the village, and the priests distribute to every
family a leaf of yellow paper inscribed with a magic character, which is
thereupon glued over the door of the house. The peasants carry off the
charred embers from the furnace, pound them to ashes, and mix the ashes
with the fodder of their cattle, believing that it fattens them. However,
the Chinese Government disapproves of these performances, and next morning
a number of the performers may generally be seen in the hands of the
police, laid face downwards on the ground and receiving a sound
castigation on a part of their person which is probably more sensitive
than the soles of their feet.(6)

(M4) In this last festival the essential feature of the ceremony appears
to be the passage of the image of the deity across the fire; it may be
compared to the passage of the straw effigy of Kupalo across the midsummer
bonfire in Russia.(7) As we shall see presently, such customs may perhaps
be interpreted as magical rites designed to produce light and warmth by
subjecting the deity himself to the heat and glow of the furnace; and
where, as at Barsana, priests or sorcerers have been accustomed in the
discharge of their functions to walk through or over fire, they have
sometimes done so as the living representatives or embodiments of deities,
spirits, or other supernatural beings. Some confirmation of this view is
furnished by the beliefs and practices of the Dosadhs, a low Indian caste
in Behar and Chota Nagpur. On the fifth, tenth, and full-moon days of
three months in the year, the priest walks over a narrow trench filled
with smouldering wood ashes, and is supposed thus to be inspired by the
tribal god Rahu, who becomes incarnate in him for a time. Full of the
spirit and also, it is surmised, of drink, the man of god then mounts a
bamboo platform, where he sings hymns and distributes to the crowd leaves
of _tulsi_, which cure incurable diseases, and flowers which cause barren
women to become happy mothers. The service winds up with a feast lasting
far into the night, at which the line that divides religious fervour from
drunken revelry cannot always be drawn with absolute precision.(8)
Similarly the Bhuiyas, a Dravidian tribe of Mirzapur, worship their tribal
hero Bir by walking over a short trench filled with fire, and they say
that the man who is possessed by the hero does not feel any pain in the
soles of his feet.(9) Ceremonies of this sort used to be observed in most
districts of the Madras Presidency, sometimes in discharge of vows made in
time of sickness or distress, sometimes periodically in honour of a deity.
Where the ceremony was observed periodically, it generally occurred in
March or June, which are the months of the vernal equinox and the summer
solstice respectively. A narrow trench, sometimes twenty yards long and
half a foot deep, was filled with small sticks and twigs, mostly of
tamarind, which were kindled and kept burning till they sank into a mass
of glowing embers. Along this the devotees, often fifty or sixty in
succession, walked, ran, or leaped barefoot. In 1854 the Madras Government
instituted an enquiry into the custom, but found that it was not attended
by danger or instances of injury sufficient to call for governmental
interference.(10)

(M5) The French traveller Sonnerat has described how, in the eighteenth
century, the Hindoos celebrated a fire-festival of this sort in honour of
the god Darma Rajah and his wife Drobedé (Draupadi). The festival lasted
eighteen days, during which all who had vowed to take part in it were
bound to fast, to practise continence, to sleep on the ground without a
mat, and to walk on a furnace. On the eighteenth day the images of Darma
Rajah and his spouse were carried in procession to the furnace, and the
performers followed dancing, their heads crowned with flowers and their
bodies smeared with saffron. The furnace consisted of a trench about forty
feet long, filled with hot embers. When the images had been carried thrice
round it, the worshippers walked over the embers, faster or slower,
according to the degree of their religious fervour, some carrying their
children in their arms, others brandishing spears, swords, and standards.
This part of the ceremony being over, the bystanders hastened to rub their
foreheads with ashes from the furnace, and to beg from the performers the
flowers which they had worn in their hair; and such as obtained them
preserved the flowers carefully. The rite was performed in honour of the
goddess Drobedé (Draupadi), the heroine of the great Indian epic, the
_Mahabharata_. For she married five brothers all at once; every year she
left one of her husbands to betake herself to another, but before doing so
she had to purify herself by fire. There was no fixed date for the
celebration of the rite, but it could only be held in one of the first
three months of the year.(11) In some villages the ceremony is performed
annually; in others, which cannot afford the expense every year, it is
observed either at longer intervals, perhaps once in three, seven, ten, or
twelve years, or only in special emergencies, such as the outbreak of
smallpox, cholera, or plague. Anybody but a pariah or other person of very
low degree may take part in the ceremony in fulfilment of a vow. For
example, if a man suffers from some chronic malady, he may vow to Draupadi
that, should he be healed of his disease, he will walk over the fire at
her festival. As a preparation for the solemnity he sleeps in the temple
and observes a fast. The celebration of the rite in any village is
believed to protect the cattle and the crops and to guard the inhabitants
from dangers of all kinds. When it is over, many people carry home the
holy ashes of the fire as a talisman which will drive away devils and
demons.(12)

(M6) The Badagas, an agricultural tribe of the Neilgherry Hills in
Southern India, annually celebrate a festival of fire in various parts of
their country. For example, at Nidugala the festival is held with much
ceremony in the month of January. Omens are taken by boiling two pots of
milk side by side on two hearths. If the milk overflows uniformly on all
sides, the crops will be abundant for all the villages; but if it flows
over on one side only, the harvest will be good for villages on that side
only. The sacred fire is made by friction, a vertical stick of
_Rhodomyrtus tomentosus_ being twirled by means of a cord in a socket let
into a thick bough of _Debregeasia velutina_. With this holy flame a heap
of wood of two sorts, the _Eugenia Jambolana_ and _Phyllanthus Emblica_,
is kindled, and the hot embers are spread over a fire-pit about five yards
long and three yards broad. When all is ready, the priest ties bells on
his legs and approaches the fire-pit, carrying milk freshly drawn from a
cow which has calved for the first time, and also bearing flowers of
_Rhododendron arboreum_, _Leucas aspera_, or jasmine. After doing
obeisance, he throws the flowers on the embers and then pours some of the
milk over them. If the omens are propitious, that is, if the flowers
remain for a few seconds unscorched and the milk does not hiss when it
falls on the embers, the priest walks boldly over the embers and is
followed by a crowd of celebrants, who before they submit to the ordeal
count the hairs on their feet. If any of the hairs are found to be singed
after the passage through the fire-pit, it is an ill omen. Sometimes the
Badagas drive their cattle, which have recovered from sickness, over the
hot embers in performance of a vow.(13) At Melur, another place of the
Badagas in the Neilgherry Hills, three, five, or seven men are chosen to
walk through the fire at the festival; and before they perform the
ceremony they pour into an adjacent stream milk from cows which have
calved for the first time during the year. A general feast follows the
performance of the rite, and next day the land is ploughed and sown for
the first time that season. At Jakkaneri, another place of the Badagas in
the Neilgherry Hills, the passage through the fire at the festival “seems
to have originally had some connection with agricultural prospects, as a
young bull is made to go partly across the fire-pit before the other
devotees, and the owners of young cows which have had their first calves
during the year take precedence of others in the ceremony, and bring
offerings of milk, which are sprinkled over the burning embers.”(14)
According to another account the ceremony among the Badagas was performed
every second year at a harvest festival, and the performers were a set of
degenerate Brahmans called Haruvarus, who “used to walk on burning coals
with bare feet, pretending that the god they worshipped could allay the
heat and make fire like cold water to them. As they only remained a few
seconds, however, on the coals, it was impossible that they could receive
much injury.”(15)

(M7) In Japan the fire-walk is performed as a religious rite twice a year
at a temple in the Kanda quarter of Tokio. One of the performances takes
place in September. It was witnessed in the year 1903 by the wife of an
American naval officer, who has described it. In a court of the temple a
bed of charcoal about six yards long, two yards wide, and two feet deep
was laid down and covered with a deep layer of straw. Being ignited, the
straw blazed up, and when the flames had died down the bed of hot charcoal
was fanned by attendants into a red glow. Priests dressed in robes of
white cotton then walked round the fire, striking sparks from flint and
steel and carrying trays full of salt. When mats had been laid down at the
two ends of the fire and salt poured on them, the priests rubbed their
bare feet twice in the salt and then walked calmly down the middle of the
fire. They were followed by a number of people, including some boys and a
woman with a baby in her arms. “The Shintoists claim that, having been
perfectly purified by their prayers and ceremonies, no evil has any power
over them. Fire they regard as the very spirit of evil; so twice a year, I
believe, they go through this fire-walking as a kind of ‘outward and
visible sign of inward spiritual grace.’ ”(16)

(M8) In the island of Mbengga, one of the Fijian archipelago, once every
year a dracaena, which grows in profusion on the grassy hillsides, becomes
fit to yield the sugar of which its fibrous root is full. To render the
roots edible it is necessary to bake them among hot stones for four days.
A great pit is dug and filled with great stones and blazing logs, and when
the flames have died down and the stones are at white heat, the oven is
ready to receive the roots. At this moment the members of a certain clan
called Na Ivilankata, favoured of the gods, leap into the oven and walk
unharmed upon the hot stones, which would scorch the feet of any other
persons. On one occasion when the ceremony was witnessed by Europeans
fifteen men of the clan, dressed in garlands and fringes, walked unscathed
through the furnace, where tongues of fire played among the hot stones.
The pit was about nineteen feet wide and the men marched round it,
planting their feet squarely and firmly on each stone. When they emerged
from the pit, the feet of several were examined and shewed no trace of
scorching; even the anklets of dried tree-fern leaves which they wore on
their legs were unburnt. The immunity thus enjoyed by members of the clan
in the fiery furnace is explained by a legend that in former days a chief
of the clan, named Tui Nkualita, received for himself and his descendants
this remarkable privilege from a certain god, whom the chief had
accidentally dragged out of a deep pool of water by the hair of his
head.(17) A similar ceremony of walking through fire, or rather over a
furnace of hot charcoal or hot stones, has also been observed in
Tahiti,(18) the Marquesas Islands,(19) and by Hindoo coolies in the West
Indian island of Trinidad;(20) but the eye-witnesses who have described
the rite, as it is observed in these islands, have said little or nothing
as to its meaning and purpose, their whole attention having been
apparently concentrated on the heat of the furnace and the state of the
performers’ legs before and after passing through it.

(M9) “Another grand custom of the Hottentots, which they likewise term
_andersmaken_, is the driving their sheep at certain times through the
fire. Early in the day appointed by a kraal for the observance of this
custom, the women milk all their cows, and set the whole produce before
their husbands. ’Tis a strict rule at those times that the women neither
taste, nor suffer their children to touch, a drop of it. The whole
quantity is sacred to the men, who drink it all up before they address
themselves to the business of the fire. Having consumed the milk, some go
and bring the sheep together to the place where the fire is to be lighted,
while others repair to the place to light it. The fire is made of chips
and dry twigs and thinly spread into a long square. Upon the coming up of
the sheep, the fire, scattered into this figure, is covered with green
twigs to raise a great smoak; and a number of men range themselves closely
on both sides of it, making a lane for the sheep to pass through, and
extending themselves to a good distance beyond the fire on the side where
the sheep are to enter. Things being in this posture, the sheep are driven
into the lane close up to the fire, which now smoaks in the thickest
clouds. The foremost boggle, and being forced forward by the press behind,
seek their escape by attempting breaches in the ranks. The men stand close
and firm, and whoop and goad them forward; when a few hands, planted at
the front of the fire, catch three or four of the foremost sheep by the
head, and drag them through, and bring them round into the sight of the
rest; which sometimes upon this, the whooping and goading continuing,
follow with a tantivy, jumping and pouring themselves through the fire and
smoak with a mighty clattering and fury. At other times they are not so
tractable, but put the Hottentots to the trouble of dragging numbers of
them through; and sometimes, in a great press and fright, sturdily
attacking the ranks, they make a breach and escape. This is a very
mortifying event at all times, the Hottentots, upon whatever account,
looking upon it as a heavy disgrace and a very ill omen into the bargain.
But when their labours here are attended with such success, that the sheep
pass readily through or over the fire, ’tis hardly in the power of
language to describe them in all the sallies of their joy.” The writer who
thus describes the custom had great difficulty in extracting an
explanation of it from the Hottentots. At last one of them informed him
that their country was much infested by wild dogs, which made terrible
havoc among the cattle, worrying the animals to death even when they did
not devour them. “Now we have it,” he said, “from our ancestors, that if
sheep are driven through the fire, as we say, that is, through a thick
smoak, the wild dogs will not be fond of attacking them while the scent of
the smoak remains upon their fleeces. We therefore from time to time, for
the security of our flocks, perform this _andersmaken_.”(21)

(M10) When disease breaks out in a herd of the Nandi, a pastoral tribe of
British East Africa, a large bonfire is made with the wood of a certain
tree (_Olea chrysophilla_), and brushwood of two sorts of shrubs is thrown
on the top. Then the sick herd is driven to the fire, and while the
animals are standing near it, a sheep big with young is brought to them
and anointed with milk by an elder, after which it is strangled by two men
belonging to clans that may intermarry. The intestines are then inspected,
and if the omens prove favourable, the meat is roasted and eaten; moreover
rings are made out of the skin and worn by the cattle-owners. After the
meat has been eaten, the herd is driven round the fire, and milk is poured
on each beast.(22) When their cattle are sick, the Zulus of Natal will
collect their herds in a kraal, where a medicine-man kindles a fire, burns
medicine in it, and so fumigates the cattle with the medicated smoke.
Afterwards he sprinkles the herd with a decoction, and, taking some melted
fat of the dead oxen in his mouth, squirts it on a fire-brand and holds
the brand to each animal in succession.(23) Such a custom is probably
equivalent to the Hottentot and European practice of driving cattle
through a fire.

(M11) Among the Indians of Yucatan the year which was marked in their
calendar by the sign of _Cauac_ was reputed to be very unlucky; they
thought that in the course of it the death-rate would be high, the maize
crops would be withered up by the extreme heat of the sun, and what
remained of the harvest would be devoured by swarms of ants and birds. To
avert these calamities they used to erect a great pyre of wood, to which
most persons contributed a faggot. Having danced about it during the day,
they set fire to it at night-fall, and when the flames had died down, they
spread out the red embers and walked or ran barefoot over them, some of
them escaping unsmirched by the flames, but others burning themselves more
or less severely. In this way they hoped to conjure away the evils that
threatened them, and to undo the sinister omens of the year.(24)

(M12) Similar rites were performed at more than one place in classical
antiquity. At Castabala, in Cappadocia, the priestesses of an Asiatic
goddess, whom the Greeks called Artemis Perasia, used to walk barefoot
through a furnace of hot charcoal and take no harm.(25) Again, at the foot
of Mount Soracte, in Italy, there was a sanctuary of a goddess Feronia,
where once a year the men of certain families walked barefoot, but
unscathed, over the glowing embers and ashes of a great fire of pinewood
in presence of a vast multitude, who had assembled from all the country
round about to pay their devotions to the deity or to ply their business
at the fair. The families from whom the performers of the rite were drawn
went by the name of Hirpi Sorani, or “Soranian Wolves”; and in
consideration of the services which they rendered the state by walking
through the fire, they were exempted, by a special decree of the senate,
from military service and all public burdens. In the discharge of their
sacred function, if we can trust the testimony of Strabo, they were
believed to be inspired by the goddess Feronia. The ceremony certainly
took place in her sanctuary, which was held in the highest reverence alike
by Latins and Sabines; but according to Virgil and Pliny the rite was
performed in honour of the god of the mountain, whom they call by the
Greek name of Apollo, but whose real name appears to have been
Soranus.(26) If Soranus was a sun-god, as his name has by some been
thought to indicate,(27) we might perhaps conclude that the passage of his
priests through the fire was a magical ceremony designed to procure a due
supply of light and warmth for the earth by mimicking the sun’s passage
across the firmament. For so priceless a service, rendered at some
personal risk, it would be natural that the magicians should be handsomely
rewarded by a grateful country, and that they should be released from the
common obligations of earth in order the better to devote themselves to
their celestial mission. The neighbouring towns paid the first-fruits of
their harvest as tribute to the shrine, and loaded it besides with
offerings of gold and silver, of which, however, it was swept clean by
Hannibal when he hung with his dusky army, like a storm-cloud about to
break, within sight of the sentinels on the walls of Rome.(28)




§ 2. The Meaning of the Fire-walk.


(M13) The foregoing customs, observed in many different parts of the
world, present at least a superficial resemblance to the modern European
practices of leaping over fires and driving cattle through them; and we
naturally ask whether it is not possible to discover a general explanation
which will include them all. We have seen that two general theories have
been proposed to account for the European practices; according to one
theory the customs in question are sun-charms, according to the other they
are purifications. Let us see how the two rival theories fit the other
facts which we have just passed in review. To take the solar theory first,
it is supported, first, by a statement that the fires at the Pongol
festival in Southern India are intended to wake the sun-god or the
fire-god from his sleep;(29) and, second, by the etymology which connects
Soranus, the god of Soracte, with the sun.(30) But for reasons which have
already been given, neither of these arguments carries much weight; and
apart from them there appears to be nothing in the foregoing customs to
suggest that they are sun-charms. Nay, some of the customs appear hardly
reconcilable with such a view. For it is to be observed that the fire-walk
is frequently practised in India and other tropical countries, where as a
rule people would more naturally wish to abate than to increase the fierce
heat of the sun. In Yucatan certainly the intention of kindling the
bonfires cannot possibly have been to fan the solar flames, since one of
the principal evils which the bonfires were designed to remedy was
precisely the excessive heat of the sun, which had withered up the maize
crops.(31) Thus the solar theory is not strongly supported by any of the
facts which we are considering, and it is actually inconsistent with some
of them.

(M14) Not so with the purificatory theory. It is obviously applicable to
some of the facts, and apparently consistent with them all. Thus we have
seen that sick men make a vow to walk over the fire, and that sick cattle
are driven over it. In such cases clearly the intention is to cleanse the
suffering man or beast from the infection of disease, and thereby to
restore him or it to health; and the fire is supposed to effect this
salutary end, either by burning up the powers of evil or by interposing an
insurmountable barrier between them and the sufferer. For it is to be
remembered that evils which civilized men regard as impersonal are often
conceived by uncivilized man in the personal shape of witches and wizards,
of ghosts and hobgoblins; so that measures which we should consider as
simple disinfectants the savage looks upon as obstacles opportunely
presented to the attacks of demons or other uncanny beings. Now of all
such obstacles fire seems generally to be thought the most effective;
hence in passing through or leaping over it our primitive philosopher
often imagines that he is not so much annihilating his spiritual foe as
merely giving him the slip; the ghostly pursuer shrinks back appalled at
the flames through which his intended victim, driven to desperation by his
fears, has safely passed before him. This interpretation of the ceremony
is confirmed, first, by the observation that in India the ashes of the
bonfire are used as a talisman against devils and demons;(32) and, second,
by the employment of the ceremony for the avowed purpose of escaping from
the pursuit of a troublesome ghost. For example, in China “they believe
that a beheaded man wanders about a headless spectre in the World of
Shades. Such spectres are frequently to be seen in walled towns,
especially in the neighbourhood of places of execution. Here they often
visit the people with disease and disaster, causing a considerable
depreciation in the value of the houses around such scenes. Whenever an
execution takes place, the people fire crackers to frighten the headless
ghost away from the spot; and the mandarin who has superintended the
bloody work, on entering the gate of his mansion, has himself carried in
his sedan chair over a fire lighted on the pavement, lest the headless
apparition should enter there along with him; for disembodied spirits are
afraid of fire.”(33) For a like reason Chinese mourners after a funeral,
and persons who have paid a visit of condolence to a house of death, often
purify themselves by stepping over a fire of straw;(34) the purification,
we cannot doubt, consists simply in shaking off the ghost who is supposed
to dog their steps. Similarly at a coroner’s inquest in China the mandarin
and his subordinates hold pocket handkerchiefs or towels to their mouths
and noses while they are inspecting the corpse, no doubt to hinder the
ghost from insinuating himself into their bodies by these apertures; and
when they have discharged their dangerous duty, they purify themselves by
passing through a small fire of straw kindled on the pavement before they
enter their sedan-chairs to return home, while at the same time the crowd
of idlers, who have gathered about the door, assist in keeping the ghost
at bay by a liberal discharge of crackers. The same double process of
purification, or rather of repelling the ghost, by means of fire and
crackers is repeated at the gate of the mandarin’s residence when the
procession defiles into it.(35) Among some of the Tartars it used to be
customary for all persons returning from a burial to leap over a fire made
for the purpose, “in order that the dead man might not follow them; for
apparently in their opinion he would be afraid of the fire.”(36) “The
Yakuts bury their dead as a rule on the day of the death, and in order not
to take the demon of death home with them, they kindle fires on the way
back from the burial and jump over them in the belief that the demon of
death, who dreads fire, will not follow them, and that in this way they
will be freed from the persecutions of the hated demon of death.”(37) In
Sikkhim, when members of the Khambu caste have buried a corpse, all
persons present at the burial “adjourn to a stream for a bath of
purification, and, on re-entering the house, have to tread on a bit of
burning cloth, to prevent the evil spirits who attend at funerals from
following them in.”(38) Among the Fans of West Africa, “when the mourning
is over, the wives of the deceased must pass over a small lighted brazier
in the middle of the village, then they sit down while some leaves are
still burning under their feet; their heads are shaved, and from that
moment they are purified from the mourning—perhaps we should translate:
‘delivered from the ghost of their husband’—and may be divided among the
heirs.”(39) At Agweh, on the Slave Coast of West Africa, a widow used to
remain shut up for six months in the room where her husband was buried; at
the end of the time a fire was lighted on the floor, and red peppers
strewn in it, until in the pungent fumes the widow was nearly stifled.(40)
No doubt the intention was to rid her of her husband’s ghost in order that
she might mingle again in the world with safety to herself and others.

(M15) On the analogy of these customs, in which the purpose of the passage
through the fire appears to be unmistakable, we may suppose that the
motive of the rite is similar at the popular festivals of Europe and the
like observances in other lands. In every case the ritual appears to be
explained in a simple and natural way by the supposition that the
performers believe themselves to be freed from certain evils, actual or
threatened, through the beneficent agency of fire, which either burns up
and destroys the noxious things or at all events repels and keeps them at
bay. Indeed this belief, or at least this hope, is definitely expressed by
some of the people who leap across the bonfires: they imagine that all
ills are burnt up and consumed in the flames, or that they leave their
sins, or at all events their fleas, behind them on the far side of the
fire.(41) But we may conjecture that originally all the evils from which
the people thus thought to deliver themselves were conceived by them to be
caused by personal beings, such as ghosts and demons or witches and
warlocks, and that the fires were kindled for the sole purpose of burning
or banning these noxious creatures. Of these evil powers witches and
warlocks appear to have been the most dreaded by our European peasantry;
and it is therefore significant that the fires kindled on these occasions
are often expressly alleged to burn the witches,(42) that effigies of
witches are not uncommonly consumed in them,(43) and that two of the great
periodic fire-festivals of the year, namely May Day and Midsummer Eve,
coincide with the seasons when witches are believed to be most active and
mischievous, and when accordingly many other precautions are taken against
them.(44) Thus if witchcraft, as a great part of mankind has believed, is
the fertile source of almost all the calamities that afflict our species,
and if the surest means of frustrating witchcraft is fire, then it follows
as clearly as day follows night that to jump over a fire must be a
sovereign panacea for practically all the ills that flesh is heir to. We
can now, perhaps, fully understand why festivals of fire played so
prominent a part in the religion or superstition of our heathen
forefathers; the observance of such festivals flowed directly from their
overmastering fear of witchcraft and from their theory as to the best way
of combating that dreadful evil.





CHAPTER VII. THE BURNING OF HUMAN BEINGS IN THE FIRES.




§ 1. The Burning of Effigies in the Fires.


(M16) We have still to ask, What is the meaning of burning effigies in the
fire at these festivals? After the preceding investigation the answer to
the question seems obvious. As the fires are often alleged to be kindled
for the purpose of burning the witches, and as the effigy burnt in them is
sometimes called “the Witch,” we might naturally be disposed to conclude
that all the effigies consumed in the flames on these occasions represent
witches or warlocks, and that the custom of burning them is merely a
substitute for burning the wicked men and women themselves, since on the
principle of homoeopathic or imitative magic you practically destroy the
witch herself in destroying her effigy. On the whole this explanation of
the burning of straw figures in human shape at the festivals appears to be
the most probable.

(M17) Yet it may be that this explanation does not apply to all the cases,
and that certain of them may admit and even require another
interpretation, in favour of which I formerly argued as follows:—(45)

“It remains to ask, What is the meaning of burning an effigy in these
bonfires? The effigies so burned, as I have already remarked, can hardly
be separated from the effigies of Death which are burned or otherwise
destroyed in spring; and grounds have been already given for regarding the
so-called effigies of Death as really representatives of the tree-spirit
or spirit of vegetation.(46) Are the other effigies, which are burned in
the spring and midsummer bonfires, susceptible of the same explanation? It
would seem so. For just as the fragments of the so-called Death are stuck
in the fields to make the crops grow, so the charred embers of the figure
burned in the spring bonfires are sometimes laid on the fields in the
belief that they will keep vermin from the crop.(47) Again, the rule that
the last married bride must leap over the fire in which the straw-man is
burned on Shrove Tuesday, is probably intended to make her fruitful.(48)
But, as we have seen, the power of blessing women with offspring is a
special attribute of tree-spirits;(49) it is therefore a fair presumption
that the burning effigy over which the bride must leap is a representative
of the fertilizing tree-spirit or spirit of vegetation. This character of
the effigy, as representative of the spirit of vegetation, is almost
unmistakable when the figure is composed of an unthreshed sheaf of corn or
is covered from head to foot with flowers.(50) Again, it is to be noted
that, instead of a puppet, trees, either living or felled, are sometimes
burned both in the spring and midsummer bonfires.(51) Now, considering the
frequency with which the tree-spirit is represented in human shape, it is
hardly rash to suppose that when sometimes a tree and sometimes an effigy
is burned in these fires, the effigy and the tree are regarded as
equivalent to each other, each being a representative of the tree-spirit.
This, again, is confirmed by observing, first, that sometimes the effigy
which is to be burned is carried about simultaneously with a May-tree, the
former being carried by the boys, the latter by the girls;(52) and,
second, that the effigy is sometimes tied to a living tree and burned with
it.(53) In these cases, we can scarcely doubt, the tree-spirit is
represented, as we have found it represented before, in duplicate, both by
the tree and by the effigy. That the true character of the effigy as a
representative of the beneficent spirit of vegetation should sometimes be
forgotten, is natural. The custom of burning a beneficent god is too
foreign to later modes of thought to escape misinterpretation. Naturally
enough the people who continued to burn his image came in time to identify
it as the effigy of persons, whom, on various grounds, they regarded with
aversion, such as Judas Iscariot, Luther, and a witch.

(M18) “The general reasons for killing a god or his representative have
been examined in the preceding chapter.(54) But when the god happens to be
a deity of vegetation, there are special reasons why he should die by
fire. For light and heat are necessary to vegetable growth; and, on the
principle of sympathetic magic, by subjecting the personal representative
of vegetation to their influence, you secure a supply of these necessaries
for trees and crops. In other words, by burning the spirit of vegetation
in a fire which represents the sun, you make sure that, for a time at
least, vegetation shall have plenty of sun. It may be objected that, if
the intention is simply to secure enough sunshine for vegetation, this end
would be better attained, on the principles of sympathetic magic, by
merely passing the representative of vegetation through the fire instead
of burning him. In point of fact this is sometimes done. In Russia, as we
have seen, the straw figure of Kupalo is not burned in the midsummer fire,
but merely carried backwards and forwards across it.(55) But, for the
reasons already given, it is necessary that the god should die; so next
day Kupalo is stripped of her ornaments and thrown into a stream. In this
Russian custom, therefore, the passage of the image through the fire is a
sun-charm pure and simple; the killing of the god is a separate act, and
the mode of killing him—by drowning—is probably a rain-charm. But usually
people have not thought it necessary to draw this fine distinction; for
the various reasons already assigned, it is advantageous, they think, to
expose the god of vegetation to a considerable degree of heat, and it is
also advantageous to kill him, and they combine these advantages in a
rough-and-ready way by burning him.”

(M19) On the foregoing argument, which I do not now find very cogent, I
would remark that we must distinguish the cases in which an effigy or an
image is burnt in the fire from the cases in which it is simply carried
through or over it. We have seen that in the Chinese festival of fire the
image of the god is carried thrice by bearers over the glowing furnace.
Here the motive for subjecting a god to the heat of the furnace must
surely be the same as the motive for subjecting his worshippers to the
same ordeal; and if the motive in the case of the worshippers is
purificatory, it is probably the same in the case of the deity. In other
words we may suppose that the image of a god is periodically carried over
a furnace in order to purify him from the taint of corruption, the spells
of magicians, or any other evil influences that might impair or impede his
divine energies. The same theory would explain the custom of obliging the
priest ceremonially to pass through the fire; the custom need not be a
mitigation of an older practice of burning him in the flames, it may only
be a purification designed to enable him the better to discharge his
sacred duties as representative of the deity in the coming year.
Similarly, when the rite is obligatory, not on the people as a whole, but
only on certain persons chosen for the purpose,(56) we may suppose that
these persons act as representatives of the entire community, which thus
passes through the fire by deputy and consequently participates in all the
benefits which are believed to accrue from the purificatory character of
the rite.(57) In both cases, therefore, if my interpretation of them is
correct, the passage over or through a fire is not a substitute for human
sacrifice; it is nothing but a stringent form of purification.




§ 2. The Burning of Men and Animals in the Fires.


(M20) Yet in the popular customs connected with the fire-festivals of
Europe there are certain features which appear to point to a former
practice of human sacrifice. We have seen reasons for believing that in
Europe living persons have often acted as representatives of the
tree-spirit and corn-spirit and have suffered death as such.(58) There is
no reason, therefore, why they should not have been burned, if any special
advantages were likely to be attained by putting them to death in that
way. The consideration of human suffering is not one which enters into the
calculations of primitive man. Now, in the fire-festivals which we are
discussing, the pretence of burning people is sometimes carried so far
that it seems reasonable to regard it as a mitigated survival of an older
custom of actually burning them. Thus in Aachen, as we saw, the man clad
in peas-straw acts so cleverly that the children really believe he is
being burned.(59) At Jumièges in Normandy the man clad all in green, who
bore the title of the Green Wolf, was pursued by his comrades, and when
they caught him they feigned to fling him upon the mid-summer bonfire.(60)
Similarly at the Beltane fires in Scotland the pretended victim was
seized, and a show made of throwing him into the flames, and for some time
afterwards people affected to speak of him as dead.(61) Again, in the
Hallowe’en bonfires of north-eastern Scotland we may perhaps detect a
similar pretence in the custom observed by a lad of lying down as close to
the fire as possible and allowing the other lads to leap over him.(62) The
titular king at Aix, who reigned for a year and danced the first dance
round the midsummer bonfire,(63) may perhaps in days of old have
discharged the less agreeable duty of serving as fuel for that fire which
in later times he only kindled. In the following customs Mannhardt is
probably right in recognizing traces of an old custom of burning a
leaf-clad representative of the spirit of vegetation. At Wolfeck, in
Austria, on Midsummer Day, a boy completely clad in green fir branches
goes from house to house, accompanied by a noisy crew, collecting wood for
the bonfire. As he gets the wood he sings—


    “_Forest trees I want,_
    _No sour milk for me,_
    _But beer and wine,_
    _So can the wood-man be jolly and gay._”(64)


In some parts of Bavaria, also, the boys who go from house to house
collecting fuel for the midsummer bonfire envelop one of their number from
head to foot in green branches of firs, and lead him by a rope through the
whole village.(65) At Moosheim, in Wurtemberg, the festival of St. John’s
Fire usually lasted for fourteen days, ending on the second Sunday after
Midsummer Day. On this last day the bonfire was left in charge of the
children, while the older people retired to a wood. Here they encased a
young fellow in leaves and twigs, who, thus disguised, went to the fire,
scattered it, and trod it out. All the people present fled at the sight of
him.(66)

(M21) In this connexion it is worth while to note that in pagan Europe the
water as well as the fire seems to have claimed its human victim on
Midsummer Day. Some German rivers, such as the Saale and the Spree, are
believed still to require their victim on that day; hence people are
careful not to bathe at this perilous season. Where the beautiful Neckar
flows, between vine-clad and wooded hills, under the majestic ruins of
Heidelberg castle, the spirit of the river seeks to drown three persons,
one on Midsummer Eve, one on Midsummer Day, and one on the day after. On
these nights, if you hear a shriek as of a drowning man or woman from the
water, beware of running to the rescue; for it is only the water-fairy
shrieking to lure you to your doom. Many a fisherman of the Elbe knows
better than to launch his boat and trust himself to the treacherous river
on Midsummer Day. And Samland fishermen will not go to sea at this season,
because they are aware that the sea is then hollow and demands a victim.
In the neighbourhood of the Lake of Constance the Swabian peasants say
that on St. John’s Day the Angel or St. John must have a swimmer and a
climber; hence no one will climb a tree or bathe even in a brook on that
day.(67) According to others, St. John will have three dead men on his
day; one of them must die by water, one by a fall, and one by lightning;
therefore old-fashioned people warn their children not to climb or bathe,
and are very careful themselves not to run into any kind of danger on
Midsummer Day.(68) So in some parts of Switzerland people are warned
against bathing on St. John’s Night, because the saint’s day demands its
victims. Thus in the Emmenthal they say, “This day will have three
persons; one must perish in the air, one in the fire, and the third in the
water.” At Schaffhausen the saying runs, “St. John the Baptist must have a
runner, must have a swimmer, must have a climber.” That is the reason why
you should not climb cherry-trees on the saint’s day, lest you should fall
down and break your valuable neck.(69) In Cologne the saint is more
exacting; on his day he requires no less than fourteen dead men; seven of
them must be swimmers and seven climbers.(70) Accordingly when we find
that, in one of the districts where a belief of this sort prevails, it
used to be customary to throw a person into the water on Midsummer Day, we
can hardly help concluding that this was only a modification of an older
custom of actually drowning a human being in the river at that time. In
Voigtland it was formerly the practice to set up a fine May tree, adorned
with all kinds of things, on St. John’s Day. The people danced round it,
and when the lads had fetched down the things with which it was tricked
out, the tree was thrown into the water. But before this was done, they
sought out somebody whom they treated in the same manner, and the victim
of this horseplay was called “the John.” The brawls and disorders, which
such a custom naturally provoked, led to the suppression of the whole
ceremony.(71)

(M22) At Rotenburg on the Neckar they throw a loaf of bread into the water
on St. John’s Day; were this offering not made, the river would grow angry
and take away a man.(72) Clearly, therefore, the loaf is regarded as a
substitute which the spirit of the river consents to accept instead of a
human victim. Elsewhere the water-sprite is content with flowers. Thus in
Bohemia people sometimes cast garlands into water on Midsummer Eve; and if
the water-sprite pulls one of them down, it is a sign that the person who
threw the garland in will die.(73) In the villages of Hesse the girl who
first comes to the well early on the morning of Midsummer Day, places on
the mouth of the well a gay garland composed of many sorts of flowers
which she has culled from the fields and meadows. Sometimes a number of
such garlands are twined together to form a crown, with which the well is
decked. At Fulda, in addition to the flowery decoration of the wells, the
neighbours choose a Lord of the Wells and announce his election by sending
him a great nosegay of flowers; his house, too, is decorated with green
boughs, and children walk in procession to it. He goes from house to house
collecting materials for a feast, of which the neighbours partake on the
following Sunday.(74) What the other duties of the Lord of the Wells may
be, we are not told. We may conjecture that in old days he had to see to
it that the spirits of the water received their dues from men and maidens
on that important day.

(M23) The belief that the spirits of the water exact a human life on
Midsummer Day may partly explain why that day is regarded by some people
as unlucky. At Neuburg, in Baden, people who meet on Midsummer Day bid
each other beware.(75) Sicilian mothers on that ominous day warn their
little sons not to go out of the house, or, if they do go out, not to
stray far, not to walk on solitary unfrequented paths, to avoid horses and
carriages and persons with firearms, and not to dare to swim; in short
they bid them be on their guard at every turn. The Sicilian writer who
tells us this adds: “This I know and sadly remember ever since the year
1848, when, not yet seven years old, I beheld in the dusk of the evening
on St. John’s Day some women of my acquaintance bringing back in their
arms my little brother, who had gone to play in a garden near our house,
and there had found his death, my poor Francesco! In their simplicity the
women who strove to console my inconsolable mother, driven distracted by
the dreadful blow, kept repeating that St. John must have his due, that on
that day he must be appeased. ‘Who knows,’ said they, ‘how many other
mothers are weeping now for other little sons forlorn!’ ”(76)

(M24) Yet curiously enough, though the water-spirits call for human
victims on Midsummer Eve or Midsummer Day, water in general is supposed at
that season to acquire certain wonderful medicinal virtues, so that he who
bathes in it then or drinks of it is not only healed of all his
infirmities but will be well and hearty throughout the year. Hence in many
parts of Europe, from Sweden in the north to Sicily in the south, and from
Ireland and Spain in the west to Esthonia in the east it used to be
customary for men, women, and children to bathe in crowds in rivers, the
sea, or springs on Midsummer Eve or Midsummer Day, hoping thus to fortify
themselves for the next twelve months. The usual time for taking the bath
was the night which intervenes between Midsummer Eve and Midsummer
Day;(77) but in Belgium the hour was noon on Midsummer Day. It was a
curious sight, we are told, to see the banks of a river lined with naked
children waiting for the first stroke of noon to plunge into the healing
water. The dip was supposed to have a remarkable effect in strengthening
the legs. People who were ashamed to bathe in public used to have cans of
water brought to their houses from the river at midday, and then performed
their ablutions in the privacy of their chambers. Nor did they throw away
the precious fluid; on the contrary they bottled it up and kept it as a
sort of elixir for use throughout the year. It was thought never to grow
foul and to be as blessed as holy water fetched from a church, which we
may well believe. Hence it served to guard the house against a
thunder-storm; when the clouds were heavy and threatening, all you had to
do was to take the palm branches (that is, the twigs of box-wood) which
were blessed on Palm Sunday, dip them in the midsummer water, and burn
them. That averted the tempest.(78) In the Swiss canton of Lucerne a bath
on Midsummer Eve is thought to be especially wholesome, though in other
parts of Switzerland, as we saw, bathing at that season is accounted
dangerous.(79)

(M25) Nor are such customs and beliefs confined to the Christian peoples
of Europe; they are shared also by the Mohammedan peoples of Morocco.
There, too, on Midsummer Day all water is thought to be endowed with such
marvellous virtue that it not only heals but prevents sickness for the
rest of the year; hence men, women, and children bathe in the sea, in
rivers, or in their houses at that time for the sake of their health. In
Fez and other places on this day people pour or squirt water over each
other in the streets or from the house-tops, so that the streets become
almost as muddy as after a fall of rain. More than that, in the Andjra
they bathe their animals also; horses, mules, donkeys, cattle, sheep, and
goats, all must participate in the miraculous benefits of midsummer
water.(80) The rite forms part of that old heathen celebration of
Midsummer which appears to have been common to the peoples on both sides
of the Mediterranean;(81) and as the aim of bathing in the midsummer water
is undoubtedly purification, it is reasonable to assign the same motive
for the custom of leaping over the midsummer bonfire. On the other hand
some people in Morocco, like some people in Europe, think that water on
Midsummer Day is unclean or dangerous. A Berber told Dr. Westermarck that
water is haunted on Midsummer Day, and that people therefore avoid bathing
in it and keep animals from drinking of it. And among the Beni Ahsen
persons who swim in the river on that day are careful, before plunging
into the water, to throw burning straw into it as an offering, in order
that the spirits may not harm them.(82) The parallelism between the rites
of water and fire at this season is certainly in favour of interpreting
both in the same way;(83) and the traces of human sacrifice which we have
detected in the rite of water may therefore be allowed to strengthen the
inference of a similar sacrifice in the rite of fire.

(M26) But it seems possible to go farther than this. Of human sacrifices
offered on these occasions the most unequivocal traces, as we have seen,
are those which, about a hundred years ago, still lingered at the Beltane
fires in the Highlands of Scotland, that is, among a Celtic people who,
situated in a remote corner of Europe and almost completely isolated from
foreign influence, had till then conserved their old heathenism better
perhaps than any other people in the West of Europe. It is significant,
therefore, that human sacrifices by fire are known, on unquestionable
evidence, to have been systematically practised by the Celts. The earliest
description of these sacrifices has been bequeathed to us by Julius
Caesar. As conqueror of the hitherto independent Celts of Gaul, Caesar had
ample opportunity of observing the national Celtic religion and manners,
while these were still fresh and crisp from the native mint and had not
yet been fused in the melting-pot of Roman civilization. With his own
notes Caesar appears to have incorporated the observations of a Greek
explorer, by name Posidonius, who travelled in Gaul about fifty years
before Caesar carried the Roman arms to the English Channel. The Greek
geographer Strabo and the historian Diodorus seem also to have derived
their descriptions of the Celtic sacrifices from the work of Posidonius,
but independently of each other, and of Caesar, for each of the three
derivative accounts contain some details which are not to be found in
either of the others. By combining them, therefore, we can restore the
original account of Posidonius with some probability, and thus obtain a
picture of the sacrifices offered by the Celts of Gaul at the close of the
second century before our era.(84) The following seem to have been the
main outlines of the custom. Condemned criminals were reserved by the
Celts in order to be sacrificed to the gods at a great festival which took
place once in every five years. The more there were of such victims, the
greater was believed to be the fertility of the land.(85) If there were
not enough criminals to furnish victims, captives taken in war were
immolated to supply the deficiency. When the time came the victims were
sacrificed by the Druids or priests. Some they shot down with arrows, some
they impaled, and some they burned alive in the following manner. Colossal
images of wicker-work or of wood and grass were constructed; these were
filled with live men, cattle, and animals of other kinds; fire was then
applied to the images, and they were burned with their living contents.

(M27) Such were the great festivals held once every five years. But
besides these quinquennial festivals, celebrated on so grand a scale, and
with, apparently, so large an expenditure of human life, it seems
reasonable to suppose that festivals of the same sort, only on a lesser
scale, were held annually, and that from these annual festivals are
lineally descended some at least of the fire-festivals which, with their
traces of human sacrifices, are still celebrated year by year in many
parts of Europe. The gigantic images constructed of osiers or covered with
grass in which the Druids enclosed their victims remind us of the leafy
framework in which the human representative of the tree-spirit is still so
often encased.(86) Hence, seeing that the fertility of the land was
apparently supposed to depend upon the due performance of these
sacrifices, Mannhardt interpreted the Celtic victims, cased in osiers and
grass, as representatives of the tree-spirit or spirit of vegetation.

(M28) These wicker giants of the Druids seem to have had till lately their
representatives at the spring and midsummer festivals of modern Europe. At
Douay, down to the early part of the nineteenth century, a procession took
place annually on the Sunday nearest to the seventh of July. The great
feature of the procession was a colossal figure, some twenty or thirty
feet high, made of osiers, and called “the giant,” which was moved through
the streets by means of rollers and ropes worked by men who were enclosed
within the effigy. The wooden head of the giant is said to have been
carved and painted by Rubens. The figure was armed as a knight with lance
and sword, helmet and shield. Behind him marched his wife and his three
children, all constructed of osiers on the same principle, but on a
smaller scale.(87) At Dunkirk the procession of the giants took place on
Midsummer Day, the twenty-fourth of June. The festival, which was known as
the Follies of Dunkirk, attracted such multitudes of spectators, that the
inns and private houses could not lodge them all, and many had to sleep in
cellars or in the streets. In 1755 an eye-witness estimated that the
number of onlookers was not less than forty thousand, without counting the
inhabitants of the town. The streets through which the procession took its
way were lined with double ranks of soldiers, and the houses crammed with
spectators from top to bottom. High mass was celebrated in the principal
church and then the procession got under weigh. First came the guilds or
brotherhoods, the members walking two and two with great waxen tapers,
lighted, in their hands. They were followed by the friars and the secular
priests, and then came the Abbot, magnificently attired, with the Host
borne before him by a venerable old man. When these were past, the real
“Follies of Dunkirk” began. They consisted of pageants of various sorts
wheeled through the streets in cars. These appear to have varied somewhat
from year to year; but if we may judge from the processions of 1755 and
1757, both of which have been described by eye-witnesses, a standing show
was a car decked with foliage and branches to imitate a wood, and carrying
a number of men dressed in leaves or in green scaly skins, who squirted
water on the people from pewter syringes. An English spectator has
compared these maskers to the Green Men of our own country on May Day.
Last of all came the giant and giantess. The giant was a huge figure of
wicker-work, occasionally as much as forty-five feet high, dressed in a
long blue robe with gold stripes, which reached to his feet, concealing
the dozen or more men who made it dance and bob its head to the
spectators. This colossal effigy went by the name of Papa Reuss, and
carried in its pocket a bouncing infant of Brobdingnagian proportions, who
kept bawling “Papa! papa!” in a voice of thunder, only pausing from time
to time to devour the victuals which were handed out to him from the
windows. The rear was brought up by the daughter of the giant,
constructed, like her sire, of wicker-work, and little, if at all,
inferior to him in size. She wore a rose-coloured robe, with a gold watch
as large as a warming pan at her side: her breast glittered with jewels:
her complexion was high, and her eyes and head turned with as easy a grace
as the men inside could contrive to impart to their motions. The
procession came to an end with the revolution of 1789, and has never been
revived. The giant himself indeed, who had won the affections of the
townspeople, survived his ancient glory for a little while and made shift
to appear in public a few times more at the Carnival and other festal
occasions; but his days were numbered, and within fifty years even his
memory had seemingly perished.(88)

(M29) Most towns and even villages of Brabant and Flanders have, or used
to have, similar wicker giants which were annually led about to the
delight of the populace, who loved these grotesque figures, spoke of them
with patriotic enthusiasm, and never wearied of gazing at them. The name
by which the giants went was Reuzes, and a special song called the Reuze
song was sung in the Flemish dialect while they were making their
triumphal progress through the streets. The most celebrated of these
monstrous effigies were those of Antwerp and Wetteren. At Ypres a whole
family of giants contributed to the public hilarity at the Carnival. At
Cassel and Hazebrouch, in the French department of Nord, the giants made
their annual appearance on Shrove Tuesday.(89) At Antwerp the giant was so
big that no gate in the city was large enough to let him go through; hence
he could not visit his brother giants in neighbouring towns, as the other
Belgian giants used to do on solemn occasions. He was designed in 1534 by
Peter van Aelst, painter to the Emperor Charles the Fifth, and is still
preserved with other colossal figures in a large hall at Antwerp.(90) At
Ath, in the Belgian province of Hainaut, the popular procession of the
giants took place annually in August down to the year 1869 at least. For
three days the colossal effigies of Goliath and his wife, of Samson and an
Archer (_Tirant_), together with a two-headed eagle, were led about the
streets on the shoulders of twenty bearers concealed under the flowing
drapery of the giants, to the great delight of the townspeople and a crowd
of strangers who assembled to witness the pageant. The custom can be
traced back by documentary evidence to the middle of the fifteenth
century; but it appears that the practice of giving Goliath a wife dates
only from the year 1715. Their nuptials were solemnized every year on the
eve of the festival in the church of St. Julien, whither the two huge
figures were escorted by the magistrates in procession.(91)

(M30) In England artificial giants seem to have been a standing feature of
the midsummer festival. A writer of the sixteenth century speaks of
“Midsommer pageants in London, where to make the people wonder, are set
forth great and uglie gyants marching as if they were alive, and armed at
all points, but within they are stuffed full of browne paper and tow,
which the shrewd boyes, underpeering, do guilefully discover, and turne to
a greate derision.”(92) At Chester the annual pageant on Midsummer Eve
included the effigies of four giants, with animals, hobby-horses, and
other figures. An officious mayor of the town suppressed the giants in
1599, but they were restored by another mayor in 1601. Under the
Commonwealth the pageant was discontinued, and the giants and beasts were
destroyed; but after the restoration of Charles II. the old ceremony was
revived on the old date, new effigies being constructed to replace those
which had fallen victims to Roundhead bigotry. The accounts preserve a
record not only of the hoops, buckram, tinfoil, gold and silver leaf,
paint, glue, and paste which went to make up these gorgeous figures; they
also mention the arsenic which was mixed with the paste in order to
preserve the poor giants from being eaten alive by the rats.(93) At
Coventry the accounts of the Cappers’ and Drapers’ Companies in the
sixteenth century shed light on the giants which there also were carried
about the town at Midsummer; from some of the entries it appears that the
giant’s wife figured beside the giant.(94) At Burford, in Oxfordshire,
Midsummer Eve used to be celebrated with great jollity by the carrying of
a giant and a dragon up and down the town. The last survivor of these
perambulating English giants dragged out a miserable existence at
Salisbury, where an antiquary found him mouldering to decay in the
neglected hall of the Tailors’ Company about the year 1844. His bodily
framework was of lath and hoop like the one which used to be worn by
Jack-in-the-Green on May Day. The drapery, which concealed the bearer, was
of coloured chintz, bordered with red and purple, and trimmed with yellow
fringe. His head was modelled in paste-board and adorned with a gold-laced
cocked hat: his flowing locks were of tow; and in his big right hand he
brandished a branch of artificial laurel. In the days of his glory he
promenaded about the streets, dancing clumsily and attended by two men
grotesquely attired, who kept a watchful eye on his movements and checked
by the wooden sword and club which they carried any incipient tendency to
lose his balance and topple over in an undignified manner, which would
have exposed to the derision of the populace the mystery of his inner man.
The learned called him St. Christopher, the vulgar simply the giant.(95)

(M31) In these cases the giants only figure in the processions. But
sometimes they were burned in the summer bonfires. Thus the people of the
Rue aux Ours in Paris used annually to make a great wicker-work figure,
dressed as a soldier, which they promenaded up and down the streets for
several days, and solemnly burned on the third of July, the crowd of
spectators singing _Salve Regina_. A personage who bore the title of king
presided over the ceremony with a lighted torch in his hand. The burning
fragments of the image were scattered among the people, who eagerly
scrambled for them. The custom was abolished in 1743.(96) In Brie, Isle de
France, a wicker-work giant, eighteen feet high, was annually burned on
Midsummer Eve.(97)

(M32) Again, the Druidical custom of burning live animals, enclosed in
wicker-work, has its counterpart at the spring and midsummer festivals. At
Luchon in the Pyrenees on Midsummer Eve “a hollow column, composed of
strong wicker-work, is raised to the height of about sixty feet in the
centre of the principal suburb, and interlaced with green foliage up to
the very top; while the most beautiful flowers and shrubs procurable are
artistically arranged in groups below, so as to form a sort of background
to the scene. The column is then filled with combustible materials, ready
for ignition. At an appointed hour—about 8 P.M.—a grand procession,
composed of the clergy, followed by young men and maidens in holiday
attire, pour forth from the town chanting hymns, and take up their
position around the column. Meanwhile, bonfires are lit, with beautiful
effect, in the surrounding hills. As many living serpents as could be
collected are now thrown into the column, which is set on fire at the base
by means of torches, armed with which about fifty boys and men dance
around with frantic gestures. The serpents, to avoid the flames, wriggle
their way to the top, whence they are seen lashing out laterally until
finally obliged to drop, their struggles for life giving rise to
enthusiastic delight among the surrounding spectators. This is a favourite
annual ceremony for the inhabitants of Luchon and its neighbourhood, and
local tradition assigns it to a heathen origin.”(98) In the midsummer
fires formerly kindled on the Place de Grève at Paris it was the custom to
burn a basket, barrel, or sack full of live cats, which was hung from a
tall mast in the midst of the bonfire; sometimes a fox was burned. The
people collected the embers and ashes of the fire and took them home,
believing that they brought good luck. The French kings often witnessed
these spectacles and even lit the bonfire with their own hands. In 1648
Louis the Fourteenth, crowned with a wreath of roses and carrying a bunch
of roses in his hand, kindled the fire, danced at it and partook of the
banquet afterwards in the town hall. But this was the last occasion when a
monarch presided at the midsummer bonfire in Paris.(99) At Metz midsummer
fires were lighted with great pomp on the esplanade, and a dozen cats,
enclosed in wicker-cages, were burned alive in them, to the amusement of
the people.(100) Similarly at Gap, in the department of the High Alps,
cats used to be roasted over the midsummer bonfire.(101) In Russia a white
cock was sometimes burned in the midsummer bonfire;(102) in Meissen or
Thuringia a horse’s head used to be thrown into it.(103) Sometimes animals
are burned in the spring bonfires. In the Vosges cats were burned on
Shrove Tuesday; in Alsace they were thrown into the Easter bonfire.(104)
In the department of the Ardennes cats were flung into the bonfires
kindled on the first Sunday in Lent; sometimes, by a refinement of
cruelty, they were hung over the fire from the end of a pole and roasted
alive. “The cat, which represented the devil, could never suffer enough.”
While the creatures were perishing in the flames, the shepherds guarded
their flocks and forced them to leap over the fire, esteeming this an
infallible means of preserving them from disease and witchcraft.(105) We
have seen that squirrels were sometimes burned in the Easter fire.(106)

(M33) Thus it appears that the sacrificial rites of the Celts of ancient
Gaul can be traced in the popular festivals of modern Europe. Naturally it
is in France, or rather in the wider area comprised within the limits of
ancient Gaul, that these rites have left the clearest traces in the
customs of burning giants of wicker-work and animals enclosed in
wicker-work or baskets. These customs, it will have been remarked, are
generally observed at or about midsummer. From this we may infer that the
original rites of which these are the degenerate successors were
solemnized at midsummer. This inference harmonizes with the conclusion
suggested by a general survey of European folk-custom, that the midsummer
festival must on the whole have been the most widely diffused and the most
solemn of all the yearly festivals celebrated by the primitive Aryans in
Europe. At the same time we must bear in mind that among the British Celts
the chief fire-festivals of the year appear certainly to have been those
of Beltane (May Day) and Hallowe’en (the last day of October); and this
suggests a doubt whether the Celts of Gaul also may not have celebrated
their principal rites of fire, including their burnt sacrifices of men and
animals, at the beginning of May or the beginning of November rather than
at Midsummer.

(M34) We have still to ask, What is the meaning of such sacrifices? Why
were men and animals burnt to death at these festivals? If we are right in
interpreting the modern European fire-festivals as attempts to break the
power of witchcraft by burning or banning the witches and warlocks, it
seems to follow that we must explain the human sacrifices of the Celts in
the same manner; that is, we must suppose that the men whom the Druids
burnt in wicker-work images were condemned to death on the ground that
they were witches or wizards, and that the mode of execution by fire was
chosen because, as we have seen, burning alive is deemed the surest mode
of getting rid of these noxious and dangerous beings. The same explanation
would apply to the cattle and wild animals of many kinds which the Celts
burned along with the men.(107) They, too, we may conjecture, were
supposed to be either under the spell of witchcraft or actually to be the
witches and wizards, who had transformed themselves into animals for the
purpose of prosecuting their infernal plots against the welfare of their
fellow creatures. This conjecture is confirmed by the observation that the
victims most commonly burned in modern bonfires have been cats, and that
cats are precisely the animals into which, with the possible exception of
hares, witches were most usually supposed to transform themselves. Again,
we have seen that serpents and foxes used sometimes to be burnt in the
midsummer fires;(108) and Welsh and German witches are reported to have
assumed the form both of foxes and serpents.(109) In short, when we
remember the great variety of animals whose forms witches can assume at
pleasure,(110) it seems easy on this hypothesis to account for the variety
of living creatures that have been burnt at festivals both in ancient Gaul
and modern Europe; all these victims, we may surmise, were doomed to the
flames, not because they were animals, but because they were believed to
be witches who had taken the shape of animals for their nefarious
purposes. One advantage of explaining the ancient Celtic sacrifices in
this way is that it introduces, as it were, a harmony and consistency into
the treatment which Europe has meted out to witches from the earliest
times down to about two centuries ago, when the growing influence of
rationalism discredited the belief in witchcraft and put a stop to the
custom of burning witches. On this view the Christian Church in its
dealings with the black art merely carried out the traditional policy of
Druidism, and it might be a nice question to decide which of the two, in
pursuance of that policy, exterminated the larger number of innocent men
and women.(111) Be that as it may, we can now perhaps understand why the
Druids believed that the more persons they sentenced to death, the greater
would be the fertility of the land.(112) To a modern reader the connexion
at first sight may not be obvious between the activity of the hangman and
the productivity of the earth. But a little reflection may satisfy him
that when the criminals who perish at the stake or on the gallows are
witches, whose delight it is to blight the crops of the farmer or to lay
them low under storms of hail, the execution of these wretches is really
calculated to ensure an abundant harvest by removing one of the principal
causes which paralyze the efforts and blast the hopes of the husbandman.

(M35) The Druidical sacrifices which we are considering were explained in
a different way by W. Mannhardt. He supposed that the men whom the Druids
burned in wickerwork images represented the spirits of vegetation, and
accordingly that the custom of burning them was a magical ceremony
intended to secure the necessary sunshine for the crops. Similarly, he
seems to have inclined to the view that the animals which used to be burnt
in the bonfires represented the corn-spirit,(113) which, as we saw in an
earlier part of this work, is often supposed to assume the shape of an
animal.(114) This theory is no doubt tenable, and the great authority of
W. Mannhardt entitles it to careful consideration. I adopted it in former
editions of this book; but on reconsideration it seems to me on the whole
to be less probable than the theory that the men and animals burnt in the
fires perished in the character of witches. This latter view is strongly
supported by the testimony of the people who celebrate the fire-festivals,
since a popular name for the custom of kindling the fires is “burning the
witches,” effigies of witches are sometimes consumed in the flames, and
the fires, their embers, or their ashes are supposed to furnish protection
against witchcraft. On the other hand there is little to shew that the
effigies or the animals burnt in the fires are regarded by the people as
representatives of the vegetation-spirit, and that the bonfires are
sun-charms. With regard to serpents in particular, which used to be burnt
in the midsummer fire at Luchon, I am not aware of any certain evidence
that in Europe snakes have been regarded as embodiments of the tree-spirit
or corn-spirit,(115) though in other parts of the world the conception
appears to be not unknown.(116) Whereas the popular faith in the
transformation of witches into animals is so general and deeply rooted,
and the fear of these uncanny beings is so strong, that it seems safer to
suppose that the cats and other animals which were burnt in the fire
suffered death as embodiments of witches than that they perished as
representatives of vegetation-spirits.





CHAPTER VIII. THE MAGIC FLOWERS OF MIDSUMMER EVE.


(M36) A feature of the great midsummer festival remains to be considered,
which may perhaps help to clear up the doubt as to the meaning of the
fire-ceremonies and their relation to Druidism. For in France and England,
the countries where the sway of the Druids is known to have been most
firmly established, Midsummer Eve is still the time for culling certain
magic plants, whose evanescent virtue can be secured at this mystic season
alone. Indeed all over Europe antique fancies of the same sort have
lingered about Midsummer Eve, imparting to it a fragrance of the past,
like withered rose leaves that, found by chance in the pages of an old
volume, still smell of departed summers. Thus in Saintonge and Aunis, two
of the ancient provinces of Western France, we read that “of all the
festivals for which the merry bells ring out there is not one which has
given rise to a greater number of superstitious practices than the
festival of St. John the Baptist. The Eve of St. John was the day of all
days for gathering the wonderful herbs by means of which you could combat
fever, cure a host of diseases, and guard yourself against sorcerers and
their spells. But in order to attain these results two conditions had to
be observed; first, you must be fasting when you gathered the herbs, and
second, you must cull them before the sun rose. If these conditions were
not fulfilled, the plants had no special virtue.”(117) In the neighbouring
province of Perigord the person who gathered the magic herbs before
sunrise at this season had to walk backwards, to mutter some mystic words,
and to perform certain ceremonies. The plants thus collected were
carefully kept as an infallible cure for fever; placed above beds and the
doors of houses and of cattle-sheds they protected man and beast from
disease, witchcraft, and accident.(118) In Normandy a belief in the
marvellous properties of herbs and plants, of flowers and seeds and leaves
gathered, with certain traditional rites, on the Eve or the Day of St.
John has remained part of the peasant’s creed to this day. Thus he fancies
that seeds of vegetables and plants, which have been collected on St.
John’s Eve, will keep better than others, and that flowers plucked that
day will never fade.(119) Indeed so widespread in France used to be the
faith in the magic virtue of herbs culled on that day that there is a
French proverb “to employ all the herbs of St. John in an affair,” meaning
“to leave no stone unturned.”(120) In the early years of the nineteenth
century a traveller reported that at Marseilles, “on the Eve of St. John,
the Place de Noailles and the course are cleaned. From three o’clock in
the morning the country-people flock thither, and by six o’clock the whole
place is covered with a considerable quantity of flowers and herbs,
aromatic or otherwise. The folk attribute superstitious virtues to these
plants; they are persuaded that if they have been gathered the same day
before sunrise they are fitted to heal many ailments. People buy them
emulously to give away in presents and to fill the house with.”(121) On
the Eve of St. John (Midsummer Eve), before sunset, the peasants of Perche
still gather the herb called St. John’s herb. It is a creeping plant, very
aromatic, with small flowers of a violet blue. Other scented flowers are
added, and out of the posies they make floral crosses and crowns, which
they hang up over the doors of houses and stables. Such floral decorations
are sold like the box-wood on Palm Sunday, and the withered wreaths are
kept from year to year. If an animal dies, it may be a cow, they carefully
clean the byre or the stable, make a pile of these faded garlands, and set
them on fire, having previously closed up all the openings and
interstices, so that the whole place is thoroughly fumigated. This is
thought to eradicate the germs of disease from the byre or stable.(122) At
Nellingen, near Saaralben, in Lorraine the hedge doctors collect their
store of simples between eleven o’clock and noon on Midsummer Day; and on
that day nut-water is brewed from nuts that have been picked on the stroke
of noon. Such water is a panacea for all ailments.(123) In the Vosges
Mountains they say that wizards have but one day in the year, and but one
hour in that day, to find and cull the baleful herbs which they use in
their black art. That day is the Eve of St. John, and that hour is the
time when the church bells are ringing the noonday Angelus. Hence in many
villages they say that the bells ought not to ring at noon on that
day.(124)

(M37) In the Tyrol also they think that the witching hour is when the _Ave
Maria_ bell is ringing on Midsummer Eve, for then the witches go forth to
gather the noxious plants whereby they raise thunderstorms. Therefore in
many districts the bells ring for a shorter time than usual that
evening;(125) at Folgareit the sexton used to steal quietly into the
church, and when the clock struck three he contented himself with giving a
few pulls to the smallest of the bells.(126) At Rengen, in the Eifel
Mountains, the sexton rings the church bell for an hour on the afternoon
of Midsummer Day. As soon as the bell begins to ring, the children run out
into the meadows, gather flowers, and weave them into garlands which they
throw on the roofs of the houses and buildings. There the garlands remain
till the wind blows them away. It is believed that they protect the houses
against fire and thunderstorms.(127) At Niederehe, in the Eifel Mountains,
on Midsummer Day little children used to make wreaths and posies out of
“St. John’s flowers and Maiden-flax” and throw them on the roofs. Some
time afterwards, when the wild gooseberries were ripe, all the children
would gather round an old woman on a Sunday afternoon, and taking the now
withered wreaths and posies with them march out of the village, praying
while they walked. Wreaths and posies were then thrown in a heap and
kindled, whereupon the children snatched them up, still burning, and ran
and fumigated the wild gooseberry bushes with the smoke. Then they
returned with the old woman to the village, knelt down before her, and
received her blessing. From that time the children were free to pick and
eat the wild gooseberries.(128) In the Mark of Brandenburg the peasants
gather all sorts of simples on Midsummer Day, because they are of opinion
that the drugs produce their medicinal effect only if they have been
culled at that time. Many of these plants, especially roots, must be dug
up at midnight and in silence.(129) In Mecklenburg not merely is a special
healing virtue ascribed to simples collected on Midsummer Day; the very
smoke of such plants, if they are burned in the fire, is believed to
protect a house against thunder and lightning, and to still the raging of
the storm.(130) The Wends of the Spreewald twine wreaths of herbs and
flowers at midsummer, and hang them up in their rooms; and when any one
gets a fright he will lay some of the leaves and blossoms on hot coals and
fumigate himself with the smoke.(131) In Eastern Prussia, some two hundred
years ago, it used to be customary on Midsummer Day to make up a bunch of
herbs of various sorts and fasten it to a pole, which was then put up over
the gate or door through which the corn would be brought in at harvest.
Such a pole was called Kaupole, and it remained in its place till the
crops had been reaped and garnered. Then the bunch of herbs was taken
down; part of it was put with the corn in the barn to keep rats and mice
from the grain, and part was kept as a remedy for diseases of all
sorts.(132)

(M38) The Germans of West Bohemia collect simples on St. John’s Night,
because they believe the healing virtue of the plants to be especially
powerful at that time.(133) The theory and practice of the Huzuls in the
Carpathian Mountains are similar; they imagine that the plants gathered on
that night are not only medicinal but possess the power of restraining the
witches; some say that the herbs should be plucked in twelve gardens or
meadows.(134) Among the simples which the Czechs and Moravians of Silesia
cull at this season are dandelions, ribwort, and the bloom of the
lime-tree.(135) The Esthonians of the island of Oesel gather St. John’s
herbs (_Jani rohhud_) on St. John’s Day, tie them up in bunches, and hang
them up about the houses to prevent evil spirits from entering. A
subsidiary use of the plants is to cure diseases; gathered at that time
they have a greater medical value than if they were collected at any other
season. Everybody does not choose exactly the same sorts of plants; some
gather more and some less, but in the collection St. John’s wort (_Jani
rohhi_, _Hypericum perforatum_) should never be wanting.(136) A writer of
the early part of the seventeenth century informs us that the Livonians,
among whom he lived, were impressed with a belief in the great and
marvellous properties possessed by simples which had been culled on
Midsummer Day. Such simples, they thought, were sure remedies for fever
and for sickness and pestilence in man and beast; but if gathered one day
too late they lost all their virtue.(137) Among the Letts of the Baltic
provinces of Russia girls and women go about on Midsummer Day crowned with
wreaths of aromatic plants, which are afterwards hung up for good luck in
the houses. The plants are also dried and given to cows to eat, because
they are supposed to help the animals to calve.(138)

(M39) In Bulgaria St. John’s Day is the special season for culling
simples. On this day, too, Bulgarian girls gather nosegays of a certain
white flower, throw them into a vessel of water, and place the vessel
under a rose-tree in bloom. Here it remains all night. Next morning they
set it in the courtyard and dance singing round it. An old woman then
takes the flowers out of the vessel, and the girls wash themselves with
the water, praying that God would grant them health throughout the year.
After that the old woman restores her nosegay to each girl and promises
her a rich husband.(139) Among the South Slavs generally on St. John’s Eve
it is the custom for girls to gather white flowers in the meadows and to
place them in a sieve or behind the rafters. A flower is assigned to each
member of the household: next morning the flowers are inspected; and he or
she whose flower is fresh will be well the whole year, but he or she whose
flower is faded will be sickly or die. Garlands are then woven out of the
flowers and laid on roofs, folds, and beehives.(140) In some parts of
Macedonia on St. John’s Eve the peasants are wont to festoon their
cottages and gird their own waists with wreaths of what they call St.
John’s flower; it is the blossom of a creeping plant which resembles
honeysuckle.(141) Similar notions as to the magical virtue which plants
acquire at midsummer have been transported by Europeans to the New World.
At La Paz in Bolivia people believe that flowers of mint (_Yerba buena_)
gathered before sunrise on St. John’s Day foretell an endless felicity to
such as are so lucky as to find them.(142)

(M40) Nor is the superstition confined to Europe and to people of European
descent. In Morocco also the Mohammedans are of opinion that certain
plants, such as penny-royal, marjoram, and the oleander, acquire a special
magic virtue (_baraka_) when they are gathered shortly before midsummer.
Hence the people collect these plants at this season and preserve them for
magical or medical purposes. For example, branches of oleander are brought
into the houses before midsummer and kept under the roof as a charm
against the evil eye; but while the branches are being brought in they may
not touch the ground, else they would lose their marvellous properties.
Cases of sickness caused by the evil eye are cured by fumigating the
patients with the smoke of these boughs. The greatest efficacy is ascribed
to “the sultan of the oleander,” which is a stalk with four pairs of
leaves clustered round it. Such a stalk is always endowed with magical
virtue, but that virtue is greatest when the stalk has been cut just
before midsummer. Arab women in the Hiaina district of Morocco gather
_Daphne gnidium_ on Midsummer Day, dry it in the sun, and make it into a
powder which, mixed with water, they daub on the heads of their little
children to protect them from sunstroke and vermin and to make their hair
grow well. Indeed such marvellous powers do these Arabs attribute to
plants at this mystic season that a barren woman will walk naked about a
vegetable garden on Midsummer Night in the hope of conceiving a child
through the fertilizing influence of the vegetables.(143)

(M41) Sometimes in order to produce the desired effect it is deemed
necessary that seven or nine different sorts of plants should be gathered
at this mystic season. Norman peasants, who wish to fortify themselves for
the toil of harvest, will sometimes go out at dawn on St. John’s Day and
pull seven kinds of plants, which they afterwards eat in their soup as a
means of imparting strength and suppleness to their limbs in the harvest
field.(144) In Mecklenburg maidens are wont to gather seven sorts of
flowers at noon on Midsummer Eve. These they weave into garlands, and
sleep with them under their pillows. Then they are sure to dream of the
men who will marry them.(145) But the flowers on which youthful lovers
dream at Midsummer Eve are oftener nine in number. Thus in Voigtland nine
different kinds of flowers are twined into a garland at the hour of noon,
but they may not enter the dwelling by the door in the usual way; they
must be passed through the window, or, if they come in at the door, they
must be thrown, not carried, into the house. Sleeping on them that night
you will dream of your future wife or future husband.(146) The Bohemian
maid, who gathers nine kinds of flowers on which to dream of love at
Midsummer Eve, takes care to wrap her hand in a white cloth, and
afterwards to wash it in dew; and when she brings her garland home she
must speak no word to any soul she meets by the way, for then all the
magic virtue of the flowers would be gone.(147) Other Bohemian girls look
into the book of fate at this season after a different fashion. They twine
their hair with wreaths made of nine sorts of leaves, and go, when the
stars of the summer night are twinkling in the sky, to a brook that flows
beside a tree. There, gazing on the stream, the girl beholds, beside the
broken reflections of the tree and the stars, the watery image of her
future lord.(148) So in Masuren maidens gather nosegays of wild flowers in
silence on Midsummer Eve. At the midnight hour each girl takes the nosegay
and a glass of water, and when she has spoken certain words she sees her
lover mirrored in the water.(149)

(M42) Sometimes Bohemian damsels make a different use of their midsummer
garlands twined of nine sorts of flowers. They lie down with the garland
laid as a pillow under their right ear, and a hollow voice, swooning from
underground, proclaims their destiny.(150) Yet another mode of consulting
the oracle by means of these same garlands is to throw them backwards and
in silence upon a tree at the hour of noon, just when the flowers have
been gathered. For every time that the wreath is thrown without sticking
to the branches of the tree the girl will have a year to wait before she
weds. This mode of divination is practised in Voigtland,(151) East
Prussia,(152) Silesia,(153) Belgium,(154) and Wales,(155) and the same
thing is done in Masuren, although we are not told that there the wreaths
must be composed of nine sorts of flowers.(156) However, in Masuren
chaplets of nine kinds of herbs are gathered on St. John’s Eve and put to
a more prosaic use than that of presaging the course of true love. They
are carefully preserved, and the people brew a sort of tea from them,
which they administer as a remedy for many ailments; or they keep the
chaplets under their pillows till they are dry, and thereupon dose their
sick cattle with them.(157) In Esthonia the virtues popularly ascribed to
wreaths of this sort are many and various. These wreaths, composed of nine
kinds of herbs culled on the Eve or the Day of St. John, are sometimes
inserted in the roof or hung up on the walls of the house, and each of
them receives the name of one of the inmates. If the plants which have
been thus dedicated to a girl happen to take root and grow in the chinks
and crannies, she will soon wed; if they have been dedicated to an older
person and wither away, that person will die. The people also give them as
medicine to cattle at the time when the animals are driven forth to
pasture; or they fumigate the beasts with the smoke of the herbs, which
are burnt along with shavings from the wooden threshold. Bunches of the
plants are also hung about the house to keep off evil spirits, and maidens
lay them under their pillows to dream on.(158) In Sweden the “Midsummer
Brooms,” made up of nine sorts of flowers gathered on Midsummer Eve, are
put to nearly the same uses. Fathers of families hang up such “brooms” to
the rafters, one for each inmate of the house; and he or she whose broom
(_quast_) is the first to wither will be the first to die. Girls also
dream of their future husbands with these bunches of flowers under their
pillows. A decoction made from the flowers is, moreover, a panacea for all
disorders, and if a bunch of them be hung up in the cattle shed, the Troll
cannot enter to bewitch the beasts.(159) The Germans of Moravia think that
nine kinds of herbs gathered on St. John’s Night (Midsummer Eve) are a
remedy for fever;(160) and some of the Wends attribute a curative virtue
in general to such plants.(161)

(M43) Of the flowers which it has been customary to gather for purposes of
magic or divination at midsummer none perhaps is so widely popular as St.
John’s wort (_Hypericum perforatum_). The reason for associating this
particular plant with the great summer festival is perhaps not far to
seek, for the flower blooms about Midsummer Day, and with its bright
yellow petals and masses of golden stamens it might well pass for a tiny
copy on earth of the great sun which reaches its culminating point in
heaven at this season. Gathered on Midsummer Eve, or on Midsummer Day
before sunrise, the blossoms are hung on doorways and windows to preserve
the house against thunder, witches, and evil spirits; and various healing
properties are attributed to the different species of the plant. In the
Tyrol they say that if you put St. John’s wort in your shoe before sunrise
on Midsummer Day you may walk as far as you please without growing weary.
In Scotland people carried it about their persons as an amulet against
witchcraft. On the lower Rhine children twine chaplets of St. John’s wort
on the morning of Midsummer Day, and throw them on the roofs of the
houses. Here, too, the people who danced round the midsummer bonfires used
to wear wreaths of these yellow flowers in their hair, and to deck the
images of the saints at wayside shrines with the blossoms. Sometimes they
flung the flowers into the bonfires. In Sicily they dip St. John’s wort in
oil, and so apply it as a balm for every wound. During the Middle Ages the
power which the plant notoriously possesses of banning devils won for it
the name of _fuga daemonum_; and before witches and wizards were stretched
on the rack or otherwise tortured, the flower used to be administered to
them as a means of wringing the truth from their lips.(162) In North Wales
people used to fix sprigs of St. John’s wort over their doors, and
sometimes over their windows, “in order to purify their houses, and by
that means drive away all fiends and evil spirits.”(163) In Saintonge and
Aunis the flowers served to detect the presence of sorcerers, for if one
of these pestilent fellows entered a house, the bunches of St. John’s
wort, which had been gathered on Midsummer Eve and hung on the walls,
immediately dropped their yellow heads as if they had suddenly faded.(164)
However, the Germans of Western Bohemia think that witches, far from
dreading St. John’s wort, actually seek the plant on St. John’s Eve.(165)
Further, the edges of the calyx and petals of St. John’s wort, as well as
their external surface, are marked with dark purple spots and lines,
which, if squeezed, yield a red essential oil soluble in spirits.(166)
German peasants believe that this red oil is the blood of St. John,(167)
and this may be why the plant is supposed to heal all sorts of
wounds.(168) In Mecklenburg they say that if you pull up St. John’s wort
at noon on Midsummer Day you will find at the root a bead of red juice
called St. John’s blood; smear this blood on your shirt just over your
heart, and no mad dog will bite you.(169) In the Mark of Brandenburg the
same blood, procured in the same manner and rubbed on the barrel of a gun,
will make every shot from that gun to hit the mark.(170) According to
others, St. John’s blood is found at noon on St. John’s Day, and only
then, adhering in the form of beads to the root of a weed called knawel,
which grows in sandy soil. But some people say that these beads of red
juice are not really the blood of the martyred saint, but only insects
resembling the cochineal or kermes-berry.(171) “About Hanover I have often
observed devout Roman Catholics going on the morning of St. John’s day to
neighbouring sandhills, gathering on the roots of herbs a certain insect
(_Coccus Polonica_) looking like drops of blood, and thought by them to be
created on purpose to keep alive the remembrance of the foul murder of St.
John the Baptist, and only to be met with on the morning of the day set
apart for him by the Church. I believe the life of this insect is very
ephemeral, but by no means restricted to the twenty-fourth of June.”(172)

(M44) Yet another plant whose root has been thought to yield the blood of
St. John is the mouse-ear hawkweed (_Hieracium pilosella_), which grows
very commonly in dry exposed places, such as gravelly banks, sunny lawns,
and the tops of park walls. “It blossoms from May to the end of July,
presenting its elegant sulphur-coloured flowers to the noontide sun, while
the surrounding herbage, and even its own foliage, is withered and burnt
up”;(173) and these round yellow flowers may be likened not inaptly to the
disc of the great luminary whose light they love. At Hildesheim, in
Germany, people used to dig up hawkweed, especially on the Gallows’ Hill,
when the clocks were striking noon on Midsummer Day; and the blood of St.
John, which they found at the roots, was carefully preserved in quills for
good luck. A little of it smeared secretly on the clothes was sure to make
the wearer fortunate in the market that day.(174) According to some the
plant ought to be dug up with a gold coin.(175) Near Gablonz, in Bohemia,
it used to be customary to make a bed of St. John’s flowers, as they were
called, on St. John’s Eve, and in the night the saint himself came and
laid his head on the bed; next morning you could see the print of his head
on the flowers, which derived a healing virtue from his blessed touch, and
were mixed with the fodder of sick cattle to make them whole.(176) But
whether these St. John’s flowers were the mouse-ear hawkweed or not is
doubtful.(177)

(M45) More commonly in Germany the name of St. John’s flowers
(_Johannisblumen_) appears to be given to the mountain arnica. In
Voigtland the mountain arnica if plucked on St. John’s Eve and stuck in
the fields, laid under the roof, or hung on the wall, is believed to
protect house and fields from lightning and hail.(178) So in some parts of
Bavaria they think that no thunderstorm can harm a house which has a
blossom of mountain arnica in the window or the roof, and in the Tyrol the
same flower fastened to the door will render the dwelling fire-proof. But
it is needless to remark that the flower, which takes its popular name
from St. John, will be no protection against either fire or thunder unless
it has been culled on the saint’s own day.(179)

(M46) Another plant which possesses wondrous virtues, if only it be
gathered on the Eve or the Day of St. John, is mugwort (_Artemisia
vulgaris_). Hence in France it goes by the name of the herb of St.
John.(180) Near Péronne, in the French department of Somme, people used to
go out fasting before sunrise on St. John’s Day to cull the plant; put
among the wheat in the barn it protected the corn against mice. In Artois
people carried bunches of mugwort, or wore it round their body;(181) in
Poitou they still wear girdles of mugwort or hemp when they warm their
backs at the midsummer fire as a preservative against backache at
harvest;(182) and the custom of wearing girdles of mugwort on the Eve or
Day of St. John has caused the plant to be popularly known in Germany and
Bohemia as St. John’s girdle. In Bohemia such girdles are believed to
protect the wearer for the whole year against ghosts, magic, misfortune,
and sickness. People also weave garlands of the plant and look through
them at the midsummer bonfire or put them on their heads; and by doing so
they ensure that their heads will not ache nor their eyes smart all that
year. Another Bohemian practice is to make a decoction of mugwort which
has been gathered on St. John’s Day; then, when your cow is bewitched and
will yield no milk, you have only to wash the animal thrice with the
decoction and the spell will be broken.(183) In Germany, people used to
crown their heads or gird their bodies with mugwort, which they afterwards
threw into the midsummer bonfire, pronouncing certain rhymes and believing
that they thus rid themselves of all their ill-luck.(184) Sometimes
wreaths or girdles of mugwort were kept in houses, cattle-sheds, and
sheep-folds throughout the year.(185) In Normandy such wreaths are a
protection against thunder and thieves;(186) and stalks of mugwort hinder
witches from laying their spells on the butter.(187) In the Isle of Man on
Midsummer Eve people gathered _barran fealoin_ or mugwort “as a preventive
against the influence of witchcraft”;(188) in Belgium bunches of mugwort
gathered on St. John’s Day or Eve and hung on the doors of stables and
houses are believed to bring good luck and to furnish a protection against
sorcery.(189) It is curious to find that in China a similar use is, or was
formerly, made of mugwort at the same season of the year. In an old
Chinese calendar we read that “on the fifth day of the fifth month the
four classes of the people gambol in the herbage, and have competitive
games with plants of all kinds. They pluck mugwort and make dolls of it,
which they suspend over their gates and doors, in order to expel poisonous
airs or influences.”(190) On this custom Professor J. J. M. de Groot
observes: “Notice that the plant owed its efficacy to the time when it was
plucked: a day denoting the midsummer festival, when light and fire of the
universe are in their apogee.”(191) On account of this valuable property
mugwort is used by Chinese surgeons in cautery.(192) The Ainos of Japan
employ bunches of mugwort in exorcisms, “because it is thought that demons
of disease dislike the smell and flavour of this herb.”(193) It is an old
German belief that he who carries mugwort in his shoes will not grow
weary.(194) In Mecklenburg, they say that if you will dig up a plant of
mugwort at noon on Midsummer Day, you will find under the root a burning
coal, which vanishes away as soon as the church bells have ceased to ring.
If you find the coal and carry it off in silence, it will prove a remedy
for all sorts of maladies.(195) According to another German superstition,
such a coal will turn to gold.(196) English writers record the popular
belief that a rare coal is to be found under the root of mugwort at a
single hour of a single day in the year, namely, at noon or midnight on
Midsummer Eve, and that this coal will protect him who carries it on his
person from plague, carbuncle, lightning, fever, and ague.(197) In Eastern
Prussia, on St. John’s Eve, people can foretell a marriage by means of
mugwort; they bend two stalks of the growing plant outward, and then
observe whether the stalks, after straightening themselves again, incline
towards each other or not.(198)

(M47) A similar mode of divination has been practised both in England and
in Germany with the orpine (_Sedum telephium_), a plant which grows on a
gravelly or chalky soil about hedges, the borders of fields, and on bushy
hills. It flowers in August, and the blossoms consist of dense clustered
tufts of crimson or purple petals; sometimes, but rarely, the flowers are
white.(199) In England the plant is popularly known as Midsummer Men,
because people used to plant slips of them in pairs on Midsummer Eve, one
slip standing for a young man and the other for a young woman. If the
plants, as they grew up, bent towards each other, the couple would marry;
if either of them withered, he or she whom it represented would die.(200)
In Masuren, Westphalia, and Switzerland the method of forecasting the
future by means of the orpine is precisely the same.(201)

(M48) Another plant which popular superstition has often associated with
the summer solstice is vervain.(202) In some parts of Spain people gather
vervain after sunset on Midsummer Eve, and wash their faces next morning
in the water in which the plants have been allowed to steep
overnight.(203) In Belgium vervain is gathered on St. John’s Day and worn
as a safeguard against rupture.(204) In Normandy the peasants cull vervain
on the Day or the Eve of St. John, believing that, besides its medical
properties, it possesses at this season the power of protecting the house
from thunder and lightning, from sorcerers, demons, and thieves.(205)
Bohemian poachers wash their guns with a decoction of vervain and
southernwood, which they have gathered naked before sunrise on Midsummer
Day; guns which have been thus treated never miss the mark.(206) In our
own country vervain used to be sought for its magical virtues on Midsummer
Eve.(207) In the Tyrol they think that he who finds a four-leaved clover
while the vesper-bell is ringing on Midsummer Eve can work magic from that
time forth.(208) People in Berry say that the four-leaved clover is
endowed with all its marvellous virtues only when it has been plucked by a
virgin on the night of Midsummer Eve.(209) In Saintonge and Aunis the
four-leaved clover, if it be found on the Eve of St. John, brings good
luck at play;(210) in Belgium it brings a girl a husband.(211)

(M49) At Kirchvers, in Hesse, people run out to the fields at noon on
Midsummer Day to gather camomile; for the flowers, plucked at the moment
when the sun is at the highest point of his course, are supposed to
possess the medicinal qualities of the plant in the highest degree. In
heathen times the camomile flower, with its healing qualities, its yellow
calix and white stamens, is said to have been sacred to the kindly and
shining Balder and to have borne his name, being called _Balders-brâ_,
that is, Balder’s eyelashes.(212) In Westphalia, also, the belief prevails
that camomile is most potent as a drug when it has been gathered on
Midsummer Day;(213) in Masuren the plant must always be one of the nine
different kinds of plants that are culled on Midsummer Eve to form
wreaths, and tea brewed from the flower is a remedy for many sorts of
maladies.(214)

(M50) Thuringian peasants hold that if the root of the yellow mullein
(_Verbascum_) has been dug up in silence with a ducat at midnight on
Midsummer Eve, and is worn in a piece of linen next to the skin, it will
preserve the wearer from epilepsy.(215) In Prussia girls go out into the
fields on Midsummer Day, gather mullein, and hang it up over their beds.
The girl whose flower is the first to wither will be the first to
die.(216) Perhaps the bright yellow flowers of mullein, clustering round
the stem like lighted candles, may partly account for the association of
the plant with the summer solstice. In Germany great mullein (_Verbascum
thapsus_) is called the King’s Candle; in England it is popularly known as
High Taper. The yellow, hoary mullein (_Verbascum pulverulentum_) “forms a
golden pyramid a yard high, of many hundreds of flowers, and is one of the
most magnificent of British herbaceous plants.”(217) We may trace a
relation between mullein and the sun in the Prussian custom of bending the
flower, after sunset, towards the point where the sun will rise, and
praying at the same time that a sick person or a sick beast may be
restored to health.(218)

(M51) In Bohemia poachers fancy that they can render themselves
invulnerable by swallowing the seed from a fir-cone which they have found
growing upwards before sunrise on the morning of St. John’s Day.(219)
Again, wild thyme gathered on Midsummer Day is used in Bohemia to fumigate
the trees on Christmas Eve in order that they may grow well;(220) in
Voigtland a tea brewed from wild thyme which has been pulled at noon on
Midsummer Day is given to women in childbed.(221) The Germans of Western
Bohemia brew a tea or wine from elder-flowers, but they say that the brew
has no medicinal virtue unless the flowers have been gathered on Midsummer
Eve. They do say, too, that whenever you see an elder-tree, you should
take off your hat.(222) In the Tyrol dwarf-elder serves to detect
witchcraft in cattle, provided of course that the shrub has been pulled up
or the branches broken on Midsummer Day.(223) Russian peasants regard the
plant known as purple loosestrife (_Lythrum salicaria_) with respect and
even fear. Wizards make much use of it. They dig the root up on St. John’s
morning, at break of day, without the use of iron tools; and they believe
that by means of the root, as well as of the blossom, they can subdue evil
spirits and make them serviceable, and also drive away witches and the
demons that guard treasures.(224)

(M52) More famous, however, than these are the marvellous properties which
popular superstition in many parts of Europe has attributed to the fern at
this season. At midnight on Midsummer Eve the plant is supposed to bloom
and soon afterwards to seed; and whoever catches the bloom or the seed is
thereby endowed with supernatural knowledge and miraculous powers; above
all, he knows where treasures lie hidden in the ground, and he can render
himself invisible at will by putting the seed in his shoe. But great
precautions must be observed in procuring the wondrous bloom or seed,
which else quickly vanishes like dew on sand or mist in the air. The
seeker must neither touch it with his hand nor let it touch the ground; he
spreads a white cloth under the plant, and the blossom or the seed falls
into it. Beliefs of this sort concerning fern-seed have prevailed, with
trifling variations of detail, in England, France, Germany, Austria,
Italy, and Russia.(225) In Bohemia the magic bloom is said to be golden,
and to glow or sparkle like fire.(226) In Russia, they say that at dead of
night on Midsummer Eve the plant puts forth buds like glowing coals, which
on the stroke of twelve burst open with a clap like thunder and light up
everything near and far.(227) In the Azores they say that the fern only
blooms at midnight on St. John’s Eve, and that no one ever sees the flower
because the fairies instantly carry it off. But if any one, watching till
it opens, throws a cloth over it, and then, when the magic hour has
passed, burns the blossoms carefully, the ashes will serve as a mirror in
which you can read the fate of absent friends; if your friends are well
and happy, the ashes will resume the shape of a lovely flower; but if they
are unhappy or dead, the ashes will remain cold and lifeless.(228) In
Thuringia people think that he who has on his person or in his house the
male fern (_Aspidium filix mas_) cannot be bewitched. They call it St.
John’s root (_Johanniswurzel_), and say that it blooms thrice in the year,
on Christmas Eve, Easter Eve, and the day of St. John the Baptist; it
should be dug up when the sun enters the sign of the lion. Armed with this
powerful implement you can detect a sorcerer at any gathering, it may be a
wedding feast or what not. All you have to do is to put the root under the
tablecloth unseen by the rest of the company, and, if there should be a
sorcerer among them, he will turn as pale as death and get up and go away.
Fear and horror come over him when the fern-root is under the tablecloth.
And when oxen, horses, or other domestic cattle are bewitched by wicked
people, you need only take the root at full moon, soak it in water, and
sprinkle the cattle with the water, or rub them down with a cloth that has
been steeped in it, and witchcraft will have no more power over the
animals.(229)

(M53) Once more, people have fancied that if they cut a branch of hazel on
Midsummer Eve it would serve them as a divining rod to discover treasures
and water. This belief has existed in Moravia, Mecklenburg, and apparently
in Scotland.(230) In the Mark of Brandenburg, they say that if you would
procure the mystic wand you must go to the hazel by night on Midsummer
Eve, walking backwards, and when you have come to the bush you must
silently put your hands between your legs and cut a fork-shaped stick;
that stick will be the divining-rod, and, as such, will detect treasures
buried in the ground. If you have any doubt as to the quality of the wand,
you have only to hold it in water; for in that case your true divining-rod
will squeak like a pig, but your spurious one will not.(231) In Bavaria
they say that the divining-rod should be cut from a hazel bush between
eleven and twelve on St. John’s Night, and that by means of it you can
discover not only veins of metal and underground springs, but also thieves
and murderers and unknown ways. In cutting it you should say, “God greet
thee, thou noble twig! With God the Father I seek thee, with God the Son I
find thee, with the might of God the Holy Ghost I break thee. I adjure
thee, rod and sprig, by the power of the Highest that thou shew me what I
order, and that as sure and clear as Mary the Mother of God was a pure
virgin when she bare our Lord Jesus, in the name of God the Father, God
the Son, and God the Holy Ghost, Amen!”(232) In Berlin and the
neighbourhood they say that every seventh year there grows a wonderful
branch on a hazel bush, and that branch is the divining-rod. Only an
innocent child, born on a Sunday and nursed in the true faith, can find it
on St. John’s Night; to him then all the treasures of the earth lie
open.(233) In the Tyrol the divining-rod ought to be cut at new moon, but
may be cut either on St. John’s Day or on Twelfth Night. Having got it you
baptize it in the name of one of the Three Holy Kings according to the
purpose for which you intend to use it: if the rod is to discover gold,
you name it Caspar; if it is to reveal silver, you call it Balthasar; and
if it is to point out hidden springs of water, you dub it Melchior.(234)
In Lechrain the divining-rod is a yearling shoot of hazel with two
branches; a good time for cutting it is new moon, and if the sun is
rising, so much the better. As for the day of the year, you may take your
choice between St. John’s Day, Twelfth Night, and Shrove Tuesday. If cut
with the proper form of words, the rod will as usual discover underground
springs and hidden treasures.(235)

(M54) Midsummer Eve is also the favourite time for procuring the
divining-rod in Sweden. Some say that it should then be cut from a
mistletoe bough.(236) However, other people in Sweden are of opinion that
the divining-rod (_Slag ruta_) which is obtained on Midsummer Eve ought to
be compounded out of four different kinds of wood, to wit, mistletoe,
mountain-ash, the aspen, and another; and they say that the mountain-ash
which is employed for this purpose should, like the mistletoe, be a
parasite growing from the hollow root of a fallen tree, whither the seed
was carried by a bird or wafted by the wind. Armed with this fourfold
implement of power the treasure-seeker proceeds at sundown to the spot
where he expects to find hidden wealth; there he lays the rod on the
ground in perfect silence, and when it lies directly over treasure, it
will begin to hop about as if it were alive.(237)

(M55) A mystical plant which to some extent serves the same purpose as the
divining-rod is the springwort, which is sometimes supposed to be
caper-spurge (_Euphorbia lathyris_). In the Harz Mountains they say that
many years ago there was a wondrous flower called springwort or Johnswort,
which was as rare as it was marvellous. It bloomed only on St. John’s
Night (some say under a fern) between the hours of eleven and twelve; but
when the last stroke of twelve was struck, the flower vanished away. Only
in mountainous regions, where many noble metals reposed in the bosom of
the earth, was the flower seen now and then in lonely meadows among the
hills. The spirits of the hills wished by means of it to shew to men where
their treasures were to be found. The flower itself was yellow and shone
like a lamp in the darkness of night. It never stood still, but kept
hopping constantly to and fro. It was also afraid of men and fled before
them, and no man ever yet plucked it unless he had been set apart by
Providence for the task. To him who was lucky enough to cull it the flower
revealed all the treasures of the earth, and it made him rich, oh so rich
and so happy!(238)

(M56) However, the usual account given of the springwort is somewhat
different. They say that the way to procure it is this. You mark a hollow
in a tree where a green or black woodpecker has built its nest and hatched
its young; you plug up the hole with a wooden wedge; then you hide behind
the tree and wait. The woodpecker meantime has flown away but very soon
returns with the springwort in its bill. It flutters up to the tree-trunk
holding the springwort to the wedge, which at once, as if struck by a
hammer, jumps out with a bang. Now is your chance. You rush from your
concealment, you raise a loud cry, and in its fright the bird opens its
bill and drops the springwort. Quick as thought you reach out a red or
white cloth, with which you have taken care to provide yourself, and catch
the magic flower as it falls. The treasure is now yours. Before its
marvellous power all doors and locks fly open; it can make the bearer of
it invisible; and neither steel nor lead can wound the man who carries it
in the right-hand pocket of his coat. That is why people in Swabia say of
a thief who cannot be caught, “He must surely have a springwort.”(239) The
superstition which associates the springwort with the woodpecker is very
ancient, for it is recorded by Pliny. It was a vulgar belief, he tells us,
that if a shepherd plugged up a woodpecker’s nest in the hollow of a tree
with a wedge, the bird would bring a herb which caused the wedge to slip
out of the hole; Trebius indeed affirmed that the wedge leaped out with a
bang, however hard and fast you might have driven it into the tree.(240)
Another flower which possesses the same remarkable power of bursting open
all doors and locks is chicory, provided always that you cut the flower
with a piece of gold at noon or midnight on St. James’s Day, the
twenty-fifth of July. But in cutting it you must be perfectly silent; if
you utter a sound, it is all up with you. There was a man who was just
about to cut the flower of the chicory, when he looked up and saw a
millstone hovering over his head. He fled for his life and fortunately
escaped; but had he so much as opened his lips, the millstone would have
dropped on him and crushed him as flat as a pancake. However, it is only a
rare white variety of the chicory flower which can act as a picklock; the
common bright blue flower is perfectly useless for the purpose.(241)

(M57) Many more examples might perhaps be cited of the marvellous virtues
which certain plants have been supposed to acquire at the summer solstice,
but the foregoing instances may suffice to prove that the superstition is
widely spread, deeply rooted, and therefore probably very ancient in
Europe. Why should plants be thought to be endowed with these wonderful
properties on the longest day more than on any other day of the year? It
seems difficult or impossible to explain such a belief except on the
supposition that in some mystic way the plants catch from the sun, then at
the full height of his power and glory, some fleeting effluence of radiant
light and heat, which invests them for a time with powers above the
ordinary for the healing of diseases and the unmasking and baffling of all
the evil things that threaten the life of man. That the supposition is not
purely hypothetical will appear from a folk-tale, to be noticed later on,
in which the magic bloom of the fern is directly derived from the sun at
noon on Midsummer Day. And if the magic flowers of Midsummer Eve thus
stand in direct relation to the sun, which many of them resemble in shape
and colour, blooming in the meadows like little yellow suns fallen from
the blue sky, does it not become probable that the bonfires kindled at the
same time are the artificial, as the flowers are the natural, imitations
of the great celestial fire then blazing in all its strength? At least
analogy seems to favour the inference and so far to support Mannhardt’s
theory, that the bonfires kindled at the popular festivals of Europe,
especially at the summer solstice, are intended to reinforce the waning or
waxing fires of the sun. Thus if in our enquiry into these fire-festivals
the scales of judgment are loaded with the adverse theories of Mannhardt
and Westermarck, we may say that the weight, light as it is, of the magic
flowers of Midsummer Eve seems to incline the trembling balance back to
the side of Mannhardt.

(M58) Nor is it, perhaps, an argument against Mannhardt’s view that the
midsummer flowers and plants are so often employed as talismans to break
the spells of witchcraft.(242) For granted that employment, which is
undeniable, we have still to explain it, and that we can hardly do except
by reference to the midsummer sun. And what is here said of the midsummer
flowers applies equally to the midsummer bonfires. They too are used to
destroy the charms of witches and warlocks; but if they can do so, may it
not be in part because fires at midsummer are thought to burn with fiercer
fury than at other times by sympathy with the fiercer fervour of the sun?
This consideration would bring us back to an intermediate position between
the opposing theories, namely, to the view that while the purely
destructive aspect of fire is generally the most prominent and apparently
the most important at these festivals, we must not overlook the additional
force which by virtue of homoeopathic or imitative magic the bonfires may
be supposed both to derive from and to impart to the sun, especially at
the moment of the summer solstice when his strength is greatest and begins
to decline, and when accordingly he can at once give and receive help to
the greatest advantage.

(M59) To conclude this part of our subject it may not be amiss to
illustrate by a few more miscellaneous examples the belief that Midsummer
Eve is one of the great days of the year in which witches and warlocks
pursue their nefarious calling; indeed in this respect Midsummer Eve
perhaps stands second only to the famous Walpurgis Night (the Eve of May
Day). For instance, in the neighbourhood of Lierre, in Belgium, the people
think that on the night of Midsummer Eve all witches and warlocks must
repair to a certain field which is indicated to them beforehand. There
they hold their infernal Sabbath and are passed in review by a hellish
magician, who bestows on them fresh powers. That is why old women are most
careful, before going to bed on that night, to stop up doors and windows
and every other opening in order to bar out the witches and warlocks, who
but for this sage precaution might steal into the house and make the first
trial of their new powers on the unfortunate inmates.(243) At Rottenburg,
in Swabia, people thought that the devil and the witches could do much
harm on Midsummer Eve; so they made fast their shutters and bunged up even
the chinks and crannies, for wherever air can penetrate, there the devil
and witches can worm their way in. All night long, too, from nine in the
evening till break of day, the church bells rang to disturb the dreadful
beings at their evil work, since there is perhaps no better means of
putting the whole devilish crew to flight than the sound of church
bells.(244) Down to the second half of the nineteenth century the belief
in witches was still widespread in Voigtland, a bleak mountainous region
of Central Germany. It was especially on the Eve of May Day (Walpurgis),
St. Thomas’s Day, St. John’s Day, and Christmas Eve, as well as on
Mondays, that they were dreaded. Then they would come into a neighbour’s
house to beg, borrow, or steal something, no matter what; but woe to the
poor wretch who suffered them to carry away so much as a chip or splinter
of wood; for they would certainly use it to his undoing. On these witching
nights the witches rode to their Sabbath on baking-forks and the dashers
of churns; but if when they were hurtling through the darkness any one
standing below addressed one of the witches by name, she would die within
the year. To counteract and undo the spells which witches cast on man and
beast, people resorted to all kinds of measures. Thus on the
before-mentioned days folk made three crosses on the doors of the byres or
guarded them by hanging up St. John’s wort, marjoram, or other equally
powerful talismans. Very often, too, the village youth would carry the war
into the enemy’s quarters by marching out in a body, cracking whips,
firing guns, waving burning besoms, shouting and making an uproar, all for
the purpose of frightening and driving away the witches.(245) In Prussia
witches and warlocks used regularly to assemble twice a year on Walpurgis
Night and the Eve of St. John. The places where they held their infernal
Sabbath were various; for example, one was Pogdanzig, in the district of
Schlochau. They generally rode on a baking-fork, but often on a black
three-legged horse, and they took their departure up the chimney with the
words, “Up and away and nowhere to stop!” When they were all gathered on
the Blocksberg or Mount of the Witches, they held high revelry, feasting
first and then dancing on a tight rope lefthanded-wise to the inspiring
strains which an old warlock drew from a drum and a pig’s head.(246) The
South Slavs believe that on the night of Midsummer Eve a witch will slink
up to the fence of the farmyard and say, “The cheese to me, the lard to
me, the butter to me, the milk to me, but the cowhide to thee!” After that
the cow will perish miserably and you will be obliged to bury the flesh
and sell the hide. To prevent this disaster the thing to do is to go out
into the meadows very early on Midsummer morning while the dew is on the
grass, collect a quantity of dew in a waterproof mantle, carry it home,
and having tethered your cow wash her down with the dew. After that you
have only to place a milkpail under her udders and to milk away as hard as
you can; the amount of milk that you will extract from that cow’s dugs is
quite surprising. Again, the Slovenians about Görz and the Croats of
Istria believe that on the same night the witches wage pitched battles
with baptized folk, attacking them fiercely with broken stakes of palings
and stumps of trees. It is therefore a wise precaution to grub up all the
stumps in autumn and carry them home, so that the witches may be
weaponless on St. John’s Night. If the stumps are too heavy to be grubbed
up, it is well to ram them down tighter into the earth, for then the
witches will not be able to pull them up.(247)





CHAPTER IX. BALDER AND THE MISTLETOE.


(M60) The reader may remember that the preceding account of the popular
fire-festivals of Europe was suggested by the myth of the Norse god
Balder, who is said to have been slain by a branch of mistletoe and burnt
in a great fire. We have now to enquire how far the customs which have
been passed in review help to shed light on the myth. In this enquiry it
may be convenient to begin with the mistletoe, the instrument of Balder’s
death.

(M61) From time immemorial the mistletoe has been the object of
superstitious veneration in Europe. It was worshipped by the Druids, as we
learn from a famous passage of Pliny. After enumerating the different
kinds of mistletoe, he proceeds: “In treating of this subject, the
admiration in which the mistletoe is held throughout Gaul ought not to
pass unnoticed. The Druids, for so they call their wizards, esteem nothing
more sacred than the mistletoe and the tree on which it grows, provided
only that the tree is an oak. But apart from this they choose oak-woods
for their sacred groves and perform no sacred rites without oak-leaves; so
that the very name of Druids may be regarded as a Greek appellation
derived from their worship of the oak.(248) For they believe that whatever
grows on these trees is sent from heaven, and is a sign that the tree has
been chosen by the god himself. The mistletoe is very rarely to be met
with; but when it is found, they gather it with solemn ceremony. This they
do above all on the sixth day of the moon, from whence they date the
beginnings of their months, of their years, and of their thirty years’
cycle, because by the sixth day the moon has plenty of vigour and has not
run half its course. After due preparations have been made for a sacrifice
and a feast under the tree, they hail it as the universal healer and bring
to the spot two white bulls, whose horns have never been bound before. A
priest clad in a white robe climbs the tree and with a golden sickle cuts
the mistletoe, which is caught in a white cloth. Then they sacrifice the
victims, praying that God may make his own gift to prosper with those upon
whom he has bestowed it. They believe that a potion prepared from
mistletoe will make barren animals to bring forth, and that the plant is a
remedy against all poison. So much of men’s religion is commonly concerned
with trifles.”(249)

(M62) In another passage Pliny tells us that in medicine the mistletoe
which grows on an oak was esteemed the most efficacious, and that its
efficacy was by some superstitious people supposed to be increased if the
plant was gathered on the first day of the moon without the use of iron,
and if when gathered it was not allowed to touch the earth; oak-mistletoe
thus obtained was deemed a cure for epilepsy; carried about by women it
assisted them to conceive; and it healed ulcers most effectually, if only
the sufferer chewed a piece of the plant and laid another piece on the
sore.(250) Yet, again, he says that mistletoe was supposed, like vinegar
and an egg, to be an excellent means of extinguishing a fire.(251)

(M63) If in these latter passages Pliny refers, as he apparently does, to
the beliefs current among his contemporaries in Italy, it will follow that
the Druids and the Italians were to some extent agreed as to the valuable
properties possessed by mistletoe which grows on an oak; both of them
deemed it an effectual remedy for a number of ailments, and both of them
ascribed to it a quickening virtue, the Druids believing that a potion
prepared from mistletoe would fertilize barren cattle, and the Italians
holding that a piece of mistletoe carried about by a woman would help her
to conceive a child. Further, both peoples thought that if the plant were
to exert its medicinal properties it must be gathered in a certain way and
at a certain time. It might not be cut with iron, hence the Druids cut it
with gold; and it might not touch the earth, hence the Druids caught it in
a white cloth. In choosing the time for gathering the plant, both peoples
were determined by observation of the moon; only they differed as to the
particular day of the moon, the Italians preferring the first, and the
Druids the sixth.

(M64) With these beliefs of the ancient Gauls and Italians as to the
wonderful medicinal properties of mistletoe we may compare the similar
beliefs of the modern Ainos of Japan. We read that they, “like many
nations of the Northern origin, hold the mistletoe in peculiar veneration.
They look upon it as a medicine, good in almost every disease, and it is
sometimes taken in food and at others separately as a decoction. The
leaves are used in preference to the berries, the latter being of too
sticky a nature for general purposes.... But many, too, suppose this plant
to have the power of making the gardens bear plentifully. When used for
this purpose, the leaves are cut up into fine pieces, and, after having
been prayed over, are sown with the millet and other seeds, a little also
being eaten with the food. Barren women have also been known to eat the
mistletoe, in order to be made to bear children. That mistletoe which
grows upon the willow is supposed to have the greatest efficacy. This is
because the willow is looked upon by them as being an especially sacred
tree.”(252)

(M65) Thus the Ainos agree with the Druids in regarding mistletoe as a
cure for almost every disease, and they agree with the ancient Italians
that applied to women it helps them to bear children. A similar belief as
to the fertilizing influence of mistletoe, or of similar plants, upon
women is entertained by the natives of Mabuiag, an island in Torres
Straits. These savages imagine that twins can be produced “by the pregnant
woman touching or breaking a branch of a loranthaceous plant (_Viscum
sp._, probably _V. orientale_) parasitic on a tree, _mader_. The wood of
this tree is much esteemed for making digging sticks and as firewood, no
twin-producing properties are inherent in it, nor is it regarded as being
infected with the properties of its twin-producing parasite.”(253) Again,
the Druidical notion that the mistletoe was an “all-healer” or panacea may
be compared with a notion entertained by the Walos of Senegambia. These
people “have much veneration for a sort of mistletoe, which they call
_tob_; they carry leaves of it on their persons when they go to war as a
preservative against wounds, just as if the leaves were real talismans
(_gris-gris_).” The French writer who records this practice adds: “Is it
not very curious that the mistletoe should be in this part of Africa what
it was in the superstitions of the Gauls? This prejudice, common to the
two countries, may have the same origin; blacks and whites will doubtless
have seen, each of them for themselves, something supernatural in a plant
which grows and flourishes without having roots in the earth. May they not
have believed, in fact, that it was a plant fallen from the sky, a gift of
the divinity?”(254)

(M66) This suggestion as to the origin of the superstition is strongly
confirmed by the Druidical belief, reported by Pliny, that whatever grew
on an oak was sent from heaven and was a sign that the tree had been
chosen by the god himself.(255) Such a belief explains why the Druids cut
the mistletoe, not with a common knife, but with a golden sickle,(256) and
why, when cut, it was not suffered to touch the earth; probably they
thought that the celestial plant would have been profaned and its
marvellous virtue lost by contact with the ground. With the ritual
observed by the Druids in cutting the mistletoe we may compare the ritual
which in Cambodia is prescribed in a similar case. They say that when you
see an orchid growing as a parasite on a tamarind tree, you should dress
in white, take a new earthenware pot, then climb the tree at noon, break
off the plant, put it in the pot, and let the pot fall to the ground.
After that you make in the pot a decoction which confers the gift of
invulnerability.(257) Thus just as in Africa the leaves of one parasitic
plant are supposed to render the wearer invulnerable, so in Cambodia a
decoction made from another parasitic plant is considered to render the
same service to such as make use of it, whether by drinking or washing. We
may conjecture that in both places the notion of invulnerability is
suggested by the position of the plant, which, occupying a place of
comparative security above the ground, appears to promise to its fortunate
possessor a similar security from some of the ills that beset the life of
man on earth. We have already met with many examples of the store which
the primitive mind sets on such vantage grounds.(258)

(M67) Whatever may be the origin of these beliefs and practices concerning
the mistletoe, certain it is that some of them have their analogies in the
folk-lore of modern European peasants. For example, it is laid down as a
rule in various parts of Europe that mistletoe may not be cut in the
ordinary way but must be shot or knocked down with stones from the tree on
which it is growing. Thus, in the Swiss canton of Aargau “all parasitic
plants are esteemed in a certain sense holy by the country folk, but most
particularly so the mistletoe growing on an oak. They ascribe great powers
to it, but shrink from cutting it off in the usual manner. Instead of that
they procure it in the following manner. When the sun is in Sagittarius
and the moon is on the wane, on the first, third, or fourth day before the
new moon, one ought to shoot down with an arrow the mistletoe of an oak
and to catch it with the left hand as it falls. Such mistletoe is a remedy
for every ailment of children.”(259) Here among the Swiss peasants, as
among the Druids of old, special virtue is ascribed to mistletoe which
grows on an oak: it may not be cut in the usual way: it must be caught as
it falls to the ground; and it is esteemed a panacea for all diseases, at
least of children. In Sweden, also, it is a popular superstition that if
mistletoe is to possess its peculiar virtue, it must either be shot down
out of the oak or knocked down with stones.(260) Similarly, “so late as
the early part of the nineteenth century, people in Wales believed that
for the mistletoe to have any power, it must be shot or struck down with
stones off the tree where it grew.”(261)

(M68) Again, in respect of the healing virtues of mistletoe the opinion of
modern peasants, and even of the learned, has to some extent agreed with
that of the ancients. The Druids appear to have called the plant, or
perhaps the oak on which it grew, the “all-healer”;(262) and “all-healer”
is said to be still a name of the mistletoe in the modern Celtic speech of
Brittany, Wales, Ireland, and Scotland.(263) On St. John’s morning
(Midsummer morning) peasants of Piedmont and Lombardy go out to search the
oak-leaves for the “oil of St. John,” which is supposed to heal all wounds
made with cutting instruments.(264) Originally, perhaps, the “oil of St.
John” was simply the mistletoe, or a decoction made from it. For in
Holstein the mistletoe, especially oak-mistletoe, is still regarded as a
panacea for green wounds and as a sure charm to secure success in
hunting;(265) and at Lacaune, in the south of France, the old Druidical
belief in the mistletoe as an antidote to all poisons still survives among
the peasantry; they apply the plant to the stomach of the sufferer or give
him a decoction of it to drink.(266) Again, the ancient belief that
mistletoe is a cure for epilepsy has survived in modern times not only
among the ignorant but among the learned. Thus in Sweden persons afflicted
with the falling sickness think they can ward off attacks of the malady by
carrying about with them a knife which has a handle of oak mistletoe;(267)
and in Germany for a similar purpose pieces of mistletoe used to be hung
round the necks of children.(268) In the French province of Bourbonnais a
popular remedy for epilepsy is a decoction of mistletoe which has been
gathered on an oak on St. John’s Day and boiled with rye-flour.(269) So at
Bottesford in Lincolnshire a decoction of mistletoe is supposed to be a
palliative for this terrible disease.(270) Indeed mistletoe was
recommended as a remedy for the falling sickness by high medical
authorities in England and Holland down to the eighteenth century.(271) At
Kirton-in-Lindsey, in Lincolnshire, it is thought that St. Vitus’s dance
may be cured by the water in which mistletoe berries have been
boiled.(272) In the Scotch shires of Elgin and Moray, down to the second
half of the eighteenth century, at the full moon of March people used to
cut withes of mistletoe or ivy, make circles of them, keep them all the
year, and profess to cure hectics and other troubles by means of
them.(273) In Sweden, apparently, for other complaints a sprig of
mistletoe is hung round the patient’s neck or a ring of it is worn on his
finger.(274)

(M69) However, the opinion of the medical profession as to the curative
virtues of mistletoe has undergone a radical alteration. Whereas the
Druids thought that mistletoe cured everything, modern doctors appear to
think that it cures nothing.(275) If they are right, we must conclude that
the ancient and widespread faith in the medicinal virtue of mistletoe is a
pure superstition based on nothing better than the fanciful inferences
which ignorance has drawn from the parasitic nature of the plant, its
position high up on the branch of a tree seeming to protect it from the
dangers to which plants and animals are subject on the surface of the
ground. From this point of view we can perhaps understand why mistletoe
has so long and so persistently been prescribed as a cure for the falling
sickness. As mistletoe cannot fall to the ground because it is rooted on
the branch of a tree high above the earth, it seems to follow as a
necessary consequence that an epileptic patient cannot possibly fall down
in a fit so long as he carries a piece of mistletoe in his pocket or a
decoction of mistletoe in his stomach. Such a train of reasoning would
probably be regarded even now as cogent by a large portion of the human
species.

(M70) Again the ancient Italian opinion that mistletoe extinguishes fire
appears to be shared by Swedish peasants, who hang up bunches of
oak-mistletoe on the ceilings of their rooms as a protection against harm
in general and conflagration in particular.(276) A hint as to the way in
which mistletoe comes to be possessed of this property is furnished by the
epithet “thunder-besom,” which people of the Aargau canton in Switzerland
apply to the plant.(277) For a thunder-besom is a shaggy, bushy
excrescence on branches of trees, which is popularly believed to be
produced by a flash of lightning;(278) hence in Bohemia a thunder-besom
burnt in the fire protects the house against being struck by a
thunder-bolt.(279) Being itself a product of lightning it naturally
serves, on homoeopathic principles, as a protection against lightning, in
fact as a kind of lightning-conductor. Hence the fire which mistletoe in
Sweden is designed especially to avert from houses may be fire kindled by
lightning; though no doubt the plant is equally effective against
conflagration in general.

(M71) Again, mistletoe acts as a master-key as well as a
lightning-conductor; for it is said to open all locks.(280) However, in
the Tyrol it can only exert this power “under certain circumstances,”
which are not specified.(281) But perhaps the most precious of all the
virtues of mistletoe is that it affords efficient protection against
sorcery and witchcraft.(282) That, no doubt, is the reason why in Austria
a twig of mistletoe is laid on the threshold as a preventive of
nightmare;(283) and it may be the reason why in the north of England they
say that if you wish your dairy to thrive you should give your bunch of
mistletoe to the first cow that calves after New Year’s Day,(284) for it
is well known that nothing is so fatal to milk and butter as witchcraft.
Similarly in Wales, for the sake of ensuring good luck to the dairy,
people used to give a branch of mistletoe to the first cow that gave birth
to a calf after the first hour of the New Year; and in rural districts of
Wales, where mistletoe abounded, there was always a profusion of it in the
farmhouses. When mistletoe was scarce, Welsh farmers used to say, “No
mistletoe, no luck”; but if there was a fine crop of mistletoe, they
expected a fine crop of corn.(285) In Sweden mistletoe is diligently
sought after on St. John’s Eve, the people “believing it to be, in a high
degree, possessed of mystic qualities; and that if a sprig of it be
attached to the ceiling of the dwelling-house, the horse’s stall, or the
cow’s crib, the Troll will then be powerless to injure either man or
beast.”(286)

(M72) With regard to the time when the mistletoe should be gathered
opinions have varied. The Druids gathered it above all on the sixth day of
the moon, the ancient Italians apparently on the first day of the
moon.(287) In modern times some have preferred the full moon of March and
others the waning moon of winter when the sun is in Sagittarius.(288) But
the favourite time would seem to be Midsummer Eve or Midsummer Day. We
have seen that both in France and Sweden special virtues are ascribed to
mistletoe gathered at Midsummer.(289) The rule in Sweden is that
“mistletoe must be cut on the night of Midsummer Eve when sun and moon
stand in the sign of their might.”(290) Again, in Wales it was believed
that a sprig of mistletoe gathered on St. John’s Eve (Midsummer Eve), or
at any time before the berries appeared, would induce dreams of omen, both
good and bad, if it were placed under the pillow of the sleeper.(291) Thus
mistletoe is one of the many plants whose magical or medicinal virtues are
believed to culminate with the culmination of the sun on the longest day
of the year. Hence it seems reasonable to conjecture that in the eyes of
the Druids, also, who revered the plant so highly, the sacred mistletoe
may have acquired a double portion of its mystic qualities at the solstice
in June, and that accordingly they may have regularly cut it with solemn
ceremony on Midsummer Eve.

(M73) Be that as it may, certain it is that the mistletoe, the instrument
of Balder’s death, has been regularly gathered for the sake of its mystic
qualities on Midsummer Eve in Scandinavia, Balder’s home.(292) The plant
is found commonly growing on pear-trees, oaks, and other trees in thick
damp woods throughout the more temperate parts of Sweden.(293) Thus one of
the two main incidents of Balder’s myth is reproduced in the great
midsummer festival of Scandinavia. But the other main incident of the
myth, the burning of Balder’s body on a pyre, has also its counterpart in
the bonfires which still blaze, or blazed till lately, in Denmark, Norway,
and Sweden on Midsummer Eve.(294) It does not appear, indeed, that any
effigy is burned in these bonfires; but the burning of an effigy is a
feature which might easily drop out after its meaning was forgotten. And
the name of Balder’s balefires (_Balder’s Bălar_), by which these
midsummer fires were formerly known in Sweden,(295) puts their connexion
with Balder beyond the reach of doubt, and makes it probable that in
former times either a living representative or an effigy of Balder was
annually burned in them. Midsummer was the season sacred to Balder, and
the Swedish poet Tegner, in placing the burning of Balder at
midsummer,(296) may very well have followed an old tradition that the
summer solstice was the time when the good god came to his untimely end.

(M74) Thus it has been shewn that the leading incidents of the Balder myth
have their counterparts in those fire-festivals of our European peasantry
which undoubtedly date from a time long prior to the introduction of
Christianity. The pretence of throwing the victim chosen by lot into the
Beltane fire,(297) and the similar treatment of the man, the future Green
Wolf, at the midsummer bonfire in Normandy,(298) may naturally be
interpreted as traces of an older custom of actually burning human beings
on these occasions; and the green dress of the Green Wolf, coupled with
the leafy envelope of the young fellow who trod out the midsummer fire at
Moosheim,(299) seems to hint that the persons who perished at these
festivals did so in the character of tree-spirits or deities of
vegetation. From all this we may reasonably infer that in the Balder myth
on the one hand, and the fire-festivals and custom of gathering mistletoe
on the other hand, we have, as it were, the two broken and dissevered
halves of an original whole. In other words, we may assume with some
degree of probability that the myth of Balder’s death was not merely a
myth, that is, a description of physical phenomena in imagery borrowed
from human life, but that it was at the same time the story which people
told to explain why they annually burned a human representative of the god
and cut the mistletoe with solemn ceremony. If I am right, the story of
Balder’s tragic end formed, so to say, the text of the sacred drama which
was acted year by year as a magical rite to cause the sun to shine, trees
to grow, crops to thrive, and to guard man and beast from the baleful arts
of fairies and trolls, of witches and warlocks. The tale belonged, in
short, to that class of nature myths which are meant to be supplemented by
ritual; here, as so often, myth stood to magic in the relation of theory
to practice.

(M75) But if the victims—the human Balders—who died by fire, whether in
spring or at midsummer, were put to death as living embodiments of
tree-spirits or deities of vegetation, it would seem that Balder himself
must have been a tree-spirit or deity of vegetation. It becomes desirable,
therefore, to determine, if we can, the particular kind of tree or trees,
of which a personal representative was burned at the fire-festivals. For
we may be quite sure that it was not as a representative of vegetation in
general that the victim suffered death. The idea of vegetation in general
is too abstract to be primitive. Most probably the victim at first
represented a particular kind of sacred tree. Now of all European trees
none has such claims as the oak to be considered as pre-eminently the
sacred tree of the Aryans. Its worship is attested for all the great
branches of the Aryan stock in Europe. We have seen that it was not only
the sacred tree, but the principal object of worship of both Celts and
Lithuanians.(300) The roving Celts appear to have carried their worship of
the oak with them even to Asia; for in the heart of Asia Minor the
Galatian senate met in a place which bore the pure Celtic name of
Drynemetum or “temple of the oak.”(301) Among the Slavs the oak seems to
have been the sacred tree of the great god Perun.(302) According to Grimm,
the oak ranked first among the holy trees of the Germans. It is certainly
known to have been adored by them in the age of heathendom, and traces of
its worship have survived in various parts of Germany almost to the
present day.(303) Among the ancient Italians the oak was sacred above all
other trees.(304) The image of Jupiter on the Capitol at Rome seems to
have been originally nothing but a natural oak-tree.(305) At Dodona,
perhaps the oldest of all Greek sanctuaries, Zeus was worshipped as
immanent in the sacred oak, and the rustling of its leaves in the wind was
his voice.(306) If, then, the great god of both Greeks and Romans was
represented in some of his oldest shrines under the form of an oak, and if
the oak was the principal object of worship of Celts, Germans, and
Lithuanians, we may certainly conclude that this tree was venerated by the
Aryans in common before the dispersion; and that their primitive home must
have lain in a land which was clothed with forests of oak.(307)

(M76) Now, considering the primitive character and remarkable similarity
of the fire-festivals observed by all the branches of the Aryan race in
Europe, we may infer that these festivals form part of the common stock of
religious observances which the various peoples carried with them in their
wanderings from their old home. But, if I am right, an essential feature
of those primitive fire-festivals was the burning of a man who represented
the tree-spirit. In view, then, of the place occupied by the oak in the
religion of the Aryans, the presumption is that the tree so represented at
the fire-festivals must originally have been the oak. So far as the Celts
and Lithuanians are concerned, this conclusion will perhaps hardly be
contested. But both for them and for the Germans it is confirmed by a
remarkable piece of religious conservatism. The most primitive method
known to man of producing fire is by rubbing two pieces of wood against
each other till they ignite; and we have seen that this method is still
used in Europe for kindling sacred fires such as the need-fire, and that
most probably it was formerly resorted to at all the fire-festivals under
discussion. Now it is sometimes required that the need-fire, or other
sacred fire, should be made by the friction of a particular kind of wood;
and when the kind of wood is prescribed, whether among Celts, Germans, or
Slavs, that wood appears to be generally the oak.(308) Thus we have seen
that amongst the Slavs of Masuren the new fire for the village is made on
Midsummer Day by causing a wheel to revolve rapidly round an axle of oak
till the axle takes fire.(309) When the perpetual fire which the ancient
Slavs used to maintain chanced to go out, it was rekindled by the friction
of a piece of oak-wood, which had been previously heated by being struck
with a grey (not a red) stone.(310) In Germany and the Highlands of
Scotland the need-fire was regularly, and in Russia and among the South
Slavs it was sometimes, kindled by the friction of oak-wood;(311) and both
in Wales and the Highlands of Scotland the Beltane fires were lighted by
similar means.(312) Now, if the sacred fire was regularly kindled by the
friction of oak-wood, we may infer that originally the fire was also fed
with the same material. In point of fact, it appears that the perpetual
fire of Vesta at Rome was fed with oak-wood,(313) and that oak-wood was
the fuel consumed in the perpetual fire which burned under the sacred oak
at the great Lithuanian sanctuary of Romove.(314) Further, that oak-wood
was formerly the fuel burned in the midsummer fires may perhaps be
inferred from the custom, said to be still observed by peasants in many
mountain districts of Germany, of making up the cottage fire on Midsummer
Day with a heavy block of oak-wood. The block is so arranged that it
smoulders slowly and is not finally reduced to charcoal till the expiry of
a year. Then upon next Midsummer Day the charred embers of the old log are
removed to make room for the new one, and are mixed with the seed-corn or
scattered about the garden. This is believed to guard the food cooked on
the hearth from witchcraft, to preserve the luck of the house, to promote
the growth of the crops, and to preserve them from blight and vermin.(315)
Thus the custom is almost exactly parallel to that of the Yule-log, which
in parts of Germany, France, England, Servia, and other Slavonic lands was
commonly of oak-wood.(316) At the Boeotian festival of the Daedala, the
analogy of which to the spring and midsummer festivals of modern Europe
has been already pointed out, the great feature was the felling and
burning of an oak.(317) The general conclusion is, that at those periodic
or occasional ceremonies the ancient Aryans both kindled and fed the fire
with the sacred oak-wood.(318)

(M77) But if at these solemn rites the fire was regularly made of
oak-wood, it follows that any man who was burned in it as a
personification of the tree-spirit could have represented no tree but the
oak. The sacred oak was thus burned in duplicate; the wood of the tree was
consumed in the fire, and along with it was consumed a living man as a
personification of the oak-spirit. The conclusion thus drawn for the
European Aryans in general is confirmed in its special application to the
Scandinavians by the relation in which amongst them the mistletoe appears
to have stood to the burning of the victim in the midsummer fire. We have
seen that among Scandinavians it has been customary to gather the
mistletoe at midsummer. But so far as appears on the face of this custom,
there is nothing to connect it with the midsummer fires in which human
victims or effigies of them were burned. Even if the fire, as seems
probable, was originally always made with oak-wood, why should it have
been necessary to pull the mistletoe? The last link between the midsummer
customs of gathering the mistletoe and lighting the bonfires is supplied
by Balder’s myth, which can hardly be disjoined from the customs in
question. The myth suggests that a vital connexion may once have been
believed to subsist between the mistletoe and the human representative of
the oak who was burned in the fire. According to the myth, Balder could be
killed by nothing in heaven or earth except the mistletoe; and so long as
the mistletoe remained on the oak, he was not only immortal but
invulnerable. Now, if we suppose that Balder was the oak, the origin of
the myth becomes intelligible. The mistletoe was viewed as the seat of
life of the oak, and so long as it was uninjured nothing could kill or
even wound the oak. The conception of the mistletoe as the seat of life of
the oak would naturally be suggested to primitive people by the
observation that while the oak is deciduous, the mistletoe which grows on
it is evergreen. In winter the sight of its fresh foliage among the bare
branches must have been hailed by the worshippers of the tree as a sign
that the divine life which had ceased to animate the branches yet survived
in the mistletoe, as the heart of a sleeper still beats when his body is
motionless. Hence when the god had to be killed—when the sacred tree had
to be burnt—it was necessary to begin by breaking off the mistletoe. For
so long as the mistletoe remained intact, the oak (so people might think)
was invulnerable; all the blows of their knives and axes would glance
harmless from its surface. But once tear from the oak its sacred heart—the
mistletoe—and the tree nodded to its fall. And when in later times the
spirit of the oak came to be represented by a living man, it was logically
necessary to suppose that, like the tree he personated, he could neither
be killed nor wounded so long as the mistletoe remained uninjured. The
pulling of the mistletoe was thus at once the signal and the cause of his
death.

(M78) On this view the invulnerable Balder is neither more nor less than a
personification of a mistletoe-bearing oak. The interpretation is
confirmed by what seems to have been an ancient Italian belief, that the
mistletoe can be destroyed neither by fire nor water;(319) for if the
parasite is thus deemed indestructible, it might easily be supposed to
communicate its own indestructibility to the tree on which it grows, so
long as the two remain in conjunction. Or to put the same idea in mythical
form we might tell how the kindly god of the oak had his life securely
deposited in the imperishable mistletoe which grew among the branches; how
accordingly so long as the mistletoe kept its place there, the deity
himself remained invulnerable; and how at last a cunning foe, let into the
secret of the god’s invulnerability, tore the mistletoe from the oak,
thereby killing the oak-god and afterwards burning his body in a fire
which could have made no impression on him so long as the incombustible
parasite retained its seat among the boughs.

(M79) But since the idea of a being whose life is thus, in a sense,
outside himself, must be strange to many readers, and has, indeed, not yet
been recognized in its full bearing on primitive superstition, it will be
worth while to illustrate it by examples drawn both from story and custom.
The result will be to shew that, in assuming this idea as the explanation
of Balder’s relation to the mistletoe, I assume a principle which is
deeply engraved on the mind of primitive man.





CHAPTER X. THE ETERNAL SOUL IN FOLK-TALES.


(M80) In a former part of this work we saw that, in the opinion of
primitive people, the soul may temporarily absent itself from the body
without causing death.(320) Such temporary absences of the soul are often
believed to involve considerable risk, since the wandering soul is liable
to a variety of mishaps at the hands of enemies, and so forth. But there
is another aspect to this power of disengaging the soul from the body. If
only the safety of the soul can be ensured during its absence, there is no
reason why the soul should not continue absent for an indefinite time;
indeed a man may, on a pure calculation of personal safety, desire that
his soul should never return to his body. Unable to conceive of life
abstractly as a “permanent possibility of sensation” or a “continuous
adjustment of internal arrangements to external relations,” the savage
thinks of it as a concrete material thing of a definite bulk, capable of
being seen and handled, kept in a box or jar, and liable to be bruised,
fractured, or smashed in pieces. It is not needful that the life, so
conceived, should be in the man; it may be absent from his body and still
continue to animate him by virtue of a sort of sympathy or action at a
distance. So long as this object which he calls his life or soul remains
unharmed, the man is well; if it is injured, he suffers; if it is
destroyed, he dies. Or, to put it otherwise, when a man is ill or dies,
the fact is explained by saying that the material object called his life
or soul, whether it be in his body or out of it, has either sustained
injury or been destroyed. But there may be circumstances in which, if the
life or soul remains in the man, it stands a greater chance of sustaining
injury than if it were stowed away in some safe and secret place.
Accordingly, in such circumstances, primitive man takes his soul out of
his body and deposits it for security in some snug spot, intending to
replace it in his body when the danger is past. Or if he should discover
some place of absolute security, he may be content to leave his soul there
permanently. The advantage of this is that, so long as the soul remains
unharmed in the place where he has deposited it, the man himself is
immortal; nothing can kill his body, since his life is not in it.

(M81) Evidence of this primitive belief is furnished by a class of
folk-tales of which the Norse story of “The giant who had no heart in his
body” is perhaps the best-known example. Stories of this kind are widely
diffused over the world, and from their number and the variety of incident
and of details in which the leading idea is embodied, we may infer that
the conception of an external soul is one which has had a powerful hold on
the minds of men at an early stage of history. For folk-tales are a
faithful reflection of the world as it appeared to the primitive mind; and
we may be sure that any idea which commonly occurs in them, however absurd
it may seem to us, must once have been an ordinary article of belief. This
assurance, so far as it concerns the supposed power of disengaging the
soul from the body for a longer or shorter time, is amply corroborated by
a comparison of the folk-tales in question with the actual beliefs and
practices of savages. To this we shall return after some specimens of the
tales have been given. The specimens will be selected with a view of
illustrating both the characteristic features and the wide diffusion of
this class of tales.(321)

(M82) In the first place, the story of the external soul is told, in
various forms, by all Aryan peoples from Hindoostan to the Hebrides. A
very common form of it is this: A warlock, giant, or other fairyland being
is invulnerable and immortal because he keeps his soul hidden far away in
some secret place; but a fair princess, whom he holds enthralled in his
enchanted castle, wiles his secret from him and reveals it to the hero,
who seeks out the warlock’s soul, heart, life, or death (as it is
variously called), and, by destroying it, simultaneously kills the
warlock. Thus a Hindoo story tells how a magician called Punchkin held a
queen captive for twelve years, and would fain marry her, but she would
not have him. At last the queen’s son came to rescue her, and the two
plotted together to kill Punchkin. So the queen spoke the magician fair,
and pretended that she had at last made up her mind to marry him. “And do
tell me,” she said, “are you quite immortal? Can death never touch you?
And are you too great an enchanter ever to feel human suffering?” “It is
true,” he said, “that I am not as others. Far, far away, hundreds of
thousands of miles from this, there lies a desolate country covered with
thick jungle. In the midst of the jungle grows a circle of palm trees, and
in the centre of the circle stand six chattees full of water, piled one
above another: below the sixth chattee is a small cage, which contains a
little green parrot;—on the life of the parrot depends my life;—and if the
parrot is killed I must die. It is, however,” he added, “impossible that
the parrot should sustain any injury, both on account of the
inaccessibility of the country, and because, by my appointment, many
thousand genii surround the palm trees, and kill all who approach the
place.” But the queen’s young son overcame all difficulties, and got
possession of the parrot. He brought it to the door of the magician’s
palace, and began playing with it. Punchkin, the magician, saw him, and,
coming out, tried to persuade the boy to give him the parrot. “Give me my
parrot!” cried Punchkin. Then the boy took hold of the parrot and tore off
one of his wings; and as he did so the magician’s right arm fell off.
Punchkin then stretched out his left arm, crying, “Give me my parrot!” The
prince pulled off the parrot’s second wing, and the magician’s left arm
tumbled off. “Give me my parrot!” cried he, and fell on his knees. The
prince pulled off the parrot’s right leg, the magician’s right leg fell
off; the prince pulled off the parrot’s left leg, down fell the magician’s
left. Nothing remained of him except the trunk and the head; but still he
rolled his eyes, and cried, “Give me my parrot!” “Take your parrot, then,”
cried the boy; and with that he wrung the bird’s neck, and threw it at the
magician; and, as he did so, Punchkin’s head twisted round, and, with a
fearful groan, he died!(322) In another Hindoo tale an ogre is asked by
his daughter, “Papa, where do you keep your soul?” “Sixteen miles away
from this place,” he said, “is a tree. Round the tree are tigers, and
bears, and scorpions, and snakes; on the top of the tree is a very great
fat snake; on his head is a little cage; in the cage is a bird; and my
soul is in that bird.” The end of the ogre is like that of the magician in
the previous tale. As the bird’s wings and legs are torn off, the ogre’s
arms and legs drop off; and when its neck is wrung he falls down
dead.(323)

(M83) In another Hindoo story a princess called Sodewa Bai was born with a
golden necklace about her neck, and the astrologer told her parents, “This
is no common child; the necklace of gold about her neck contains your
daughter’s soul; let it therefore be guarded with the utmost care; for if
it were taken off, and worn by another person, she would die.” So her
mother caused it to be firmly fastened round the child’s neck, and, as
soon as the child was old enough to understand, she told her its value,
and warned her never to let it be taken off. In course of time Sodewa Bai
was married to a prince who had another wife living. The first wife,
jealous of her young rival, persuaded a negress to steal from Sodewa Bai
the golden necklace which contained her soul. The negress did so, and, as
soon as she put the necklace round her own neck, Sodewa Bai died. All day
long the negress used to wear the necklace; but late at night, on going to
bed, she would take it off and put it by till morning; and whenever she
took it off, Sodewa Bai’s soul returned to her and she lived. But when
morning came, and the negress put on the necklace, Sodewa Bai died again.
At last the prince discovered the treachery of his elder wife and restored
the golden necklace to Sodewa Bai.(324) In another Hindoo story a holy
mendicant tells a queen that she will bear a son, adding, “As enemies will
try to take away the life of your son, I may as well tell you that the
life of the boy will be bound up in the life of a big _boal_ fish which is
in your tank, in front of the palace. In the heart of the fish is a small
box of wood, in the box is a necklace of gold, that necklace is the life
of your son.” The boy was born and received the name of Dalim. His mother
was the Suo or younger queen. But the Duo or elder queen hated the child,
and learning the secret of his life, she caused the _boal_ fish, with
which his life was bound up, to be caught. Dalim was playing near the tank
at the time, but “the moment the _boal_ fish was caught in the net, that
moment Dalim felt unwell; and when the fish was brought up to land, Dalim
fell down on the ground, and made as if he was about to breathe his last.
He was immediately taken into his mother’s room, and the king was
astonished on hearing of the sudden illness of his son and heir. The fish
was by the order of the physician taken into the room of the Duo queen,
and as it lay on the floor striking its fins on the ground, Dalim in his
mother’s room was given up for lost. When the fish was cut open, a casket
was found in it; and in the casket lay a necklace of gold. The moment the
necklace was worn by the queen, that very moment Dalim died in his
mother’s room.” The queen used to put off the necklace every night, and
whenever she did so, the boy came to life again. But every morning when
the queen put on the necklace, he died again.(325)

(M84) In a Cashmeer story a lad visits an old ogress, pretending to be her
grandson, the son of her daughter who had married a king. So the old
ogress took him into her confidence and shewed him seven cocks, a spinning
wheel, a pigeon, and a starling. “These seven cocks,” said she, “contain
the lives of your seven uncles, who are away for a few days. Only as long
as the cocks live can your uncles hope to live; no power can hurt them as
long as the seven cocks are safe and sound. The spinning-wheel contains my
life; if it is broken, I too shall be broken, and must die; but otherwise
I shall live on for ever. The pigeon contains your grandfather’s life, and
the starling your mother’s; as long as these live, nothing can harm your
grandfather or your mother.” So the lad killed the seven cocks and the
pigeon and the starling, and smashed the spinning-wheel; and at the moment
he did so the ogres and ogresses perished.(326) In another story from
Cashmeer an ogre cannot die unless a particular pillar in the verandah of
his palace be broken. Learning the secret, a prince struck the pillar
again and again till it was broken in pieces. And it was as if each stroke
had fallen on the ogre, for he howled lamentably and shook like an aspen
every time the prince hit the pillar, until at last, when the pillar fell
down, the ogre also fell down and gave up the ghost.(327) In another
Cashmeer tale an ogre is represented as laughing very heartily at the idea
that he might possibly die. He said that “he should never die. No power
could oppose him; no years could age him; he should remain ever strong and
ever young, for the thing wherein his life dwelt was most difficult to
obtain.” It was in a queen bee, which was in a honeycomb on a tree. But
the bees in the honeycomb were many and fierce, and it was only at the
greatest risk that any one could catch the queen. However, the hero
achieved the enterprise and crushed the queen bee; and immediately the
ogre fell stone dead to the ground, so that the whole land trembled with
the shock.(328) In some Bengalee tales the life of a whole tribe of ogres
is described as concentrated in two bees. The secret was thus revealed by
an old ogress to a captive princess who pretended to fear lest the ogress
should die. “Know, foolish girl,” said the ogress, “that we ogres never
die. We are not naturally immortal, but our life depends on a secret which
no human being can unravel. Let me tell you what it is, that you may be
comforted. You know yonder tank; there is in the middle of it a crystal
pillar, on the top of which in deep waters are two bees. If any human
being can dive into the waters, and bring up to land the two bees from the
pillar in one breath, and destroy them so that not a drop of their blood
falls to the ground, then we ogres shall certainly die; but if a single
drop of blood falls to the ground, then from it will start up a thousand
ogres. But what human being will find out this secret, or, finding it,
will be able to achieve the feat? You need not, therefore, darling, be
sad; I am practically immortal.” As usual, the princess reveals the secret
to the hero, who kills the bees, and that same moment all the ogres drop
down dead, each on the spot where he happened to be standing.(329) In
another Bengalee story it is said that all the ogres dwell in Ceylon, and
that all their lives are in a single lemon. A boy cuts the lemon in
pieces, and all the ogres die.(330)

(M85) In a Siamese or Cambodian story, probably derived from India, we are
told that Thossakan or Ravana, the King of Ceylon, was able by magic art
to take his soul out of his body and leave it in a box at home, while he
went to the wars. Thus he was invulnerable in battle. When he was about to
give battle to Rama, he deposited his soul with a hermit called Fire-eye,
who was to keep it safe for him. So in the fight Rama was astounded to see
that his arrows struck the king without wounding him. But one of Rama’s
allies, knowing the secret of the king’s invulnerability, transformed
himself by magic into the likeness of the king, and going to the hermit
asked back his soul. On receiving it he soared up into the air and flew to
Rama, brandishing the box and squeezing it so hard that all the breath
left the King of Ceylon’s body, and he died.(331) In a Bengalee story a
prince going into a far country planted with his own hands a tree in the
courtyard of his father’s palace, and said to his parents, “This tree is
my life. When you see the tree green and fresh, then know that it is well
with me; when you see the tree fade in some parts, then know that I am in
an ill case; and when you see the whole tree fade, then know that I am
dead and gone.”(332) In another Indian tale a prince, setting forth on his
travels, left behind him a barley plant, with instructions that it should
be carefully tended and watched; for if it flourished, he would be alive
and well, but if it drooped, then some mischance was about to happen to
him. And so it fell out. For the prince was beheaded, and as his head
rolled off, the barley plant snapped in two and the ear of barley fell to
the ground.(333) In the legend of the origin of Gilgit there figures a
fairy king whose soul is in the snows and who can only perish by
fire.(334)

(M86) In Greek tales, ancient and modern, the idea of an external soul is
not uncommon. When Meleager was seven days old, the Fates appeared to his
mother and told her that Meleager would die when the brand which was
blazing on the hearth had burnt down. So his mother snatched the brand
from the fire and kept it in a box. But in after-years, being enraged at
her son for slaying her brothers, she burnt the brand in the fire and
Meleager expired in agonies, as if flames were preying on his vitals.(335)
Again, Nisus King of Megara had a purple or golden hair on the middle of
his head, and it was fated that whenever the hair was pulled out the king
should die. When Megara was besieged by the Cretans, the king’s daughter
Scylla fell in love with Minos, their king, and pulled out the fatal hair
from her father’s head. So he died.(336) Similarly Poseidon made Pterelaus
immortal by giving him a golden hair on his head. But when Taphos, the
home of Pterelaus, was besieged by Amphitryo, the daughter of Pterelaus
fell in love with Amphitryo and killed her father by plucking out the
golden hair with which his life was bound up.(337) In a modern Greek
folk-tale a man’s strength lies in three golden hairs on his head. When
his mother pulls them out, he grows weak and timid and is slain by his
enemies.(338) Another Greek story, in which we may perhaps detect a
reminiscence of Nisus and Scylla, relates how a certain king, who was the
strongest man of his time, had three long hairs on his breast. But when he
went to war with another king, and his own treacherous wife had cut off
the three hairs, he became the weakest of men.(339) In another modern
Greek story the life of an enchanter is bound up with three doves which
are in the belly of a wild boar. When the first dove is killed, the
magician grows sick; when the second is killed, he grows very sick; and
when the third is killed, he dies.(340) In another Greek story of the same
sort an ogre’s strength is in three singing birds which are in a wild
boar. The hero kills two of the birds, and then coming to the ogre’s house
finds him lying on the ground in great pain. He shews the third bird to
the ogre, who begs that the hero will either let it fly away or give it to
him to eat. But the hero wrings the bird’s neck, and the ogre dies on the
spot.(341) In a variant of the latter story the monster’s strength is in
two doves, and when the hero kills one of them, the monster cries out,
“Ah, woe is me! Half my life is gone. Something must have happened to one
of the doves.” When the second dove is killed, he dies.(342) In another
Greek story the incidents of the three golden hairs and three doves are
artificially combined. A monster has on his head three golden hairs which
open the door of a chamber in which are three doves: when the first dove
is killed, the monster grows sick; when the second is killed, he grows
worse; and when the third is killed, he dies.(343) In another Greek tale
an old man’s strength is in a ten-headed serpent. When the serpent’s heads
are being cut off, he feels unwell; and when the last head is struck off,
he expires.(344) In another Greek story a dervish tells a queen that she
will have three sons, that at the birth of each she must plant a pumpkin
in the garden, and that in the fruit borne by the pumpkins will reside the
strength of the children. In due time the infants are born and the
pumpkins planted. As the children grow up, the pumpkins grow with them.
One morning the eldest son feels sick, and on going into the garden they
find that the largest pumpkin is gone. Next night the second son keeps
watch in a summer-house in the garden. At midnight a negro appears and
cuts the second pumpkin. At once the boy’s strength goes out of him, and
he is unable to pursue the negro. The youngest son, however, succeeds in
slaying the negro and recovering the lost pumpkins.(345)

(M87) Ancient Italian legend furnishes a close parallel to the Greek story
of Meleager. Silvia, the young wife of Septimius Marcellus, had a child by
the god Mars. The god gave her a spear, with which he said that the fate
of the child would be bound up. When the boy grew up he quarrelled with
his maternal uncles and slew them. So in revenge his mother burned the
spear on which his life depended.(346) In one of the stories of the
_Pentamerone_ a certain queen has a twin brother, a dragon. The
astrologers declared at her birth that she would live just as long as the
dragon and no longer, the death of the one involving the death of the
other. If the dragon were killed, the only way to restore the queen to
life would be to smear her temples, breast, pulses, and nostrils with the
blood of the dragon.(347) In a modern Roman version of “Aladdin and the
Wonderful Lamp,” the magician tells the princess, whom he holds captive in
a floating rock in mid-ocean, that he will never die. The princess reports
this to the prince her husband, who has come to rescue her. The prince
replies, “It is impossible but that there should be some one thing or
other that is fatal to him; ask him what that one fatal thing is.” So the
princess asked the magician, and he told her that in the wood was a hydra
with seven heads; in the middle head of the hydra was a leveret, in the
head of the leveret was a bird, in the bird’s head was a precious stone,
and if this stone were put under his pillow he would die. The prince
procured the stone, and the princess laid it under the magician’s pillow.
No sooner did the enchanter lay his head on the pillow than he gave three
terrible yells, turned himself round and round three times, and died.(348)

(M88) Another Italian tale sets forth how a great cloud, which was really
a fairy, used to receive a young girl as tribute every year from a certain
city; and the inhabitants had to give the girls up, for if they did not,
the cloud would throw things at them and kill them all. One year it fell
to the lot of the king’s daughter to be handed over to the cloud, and they
took her in procession, to the roll of muffled drums, and attended by her
weeping father and mother, to the top of a mountain, and left her sitting
in a chair there all alone. Then the fairy cloud came down on the top of
the mountain, set the princess in her lap, and began to suck her blood out
of her little finger; for it was on the blood of girls that this wicked
fairy lived. When the poor princess was faint with the loss of blood and
lay like a log, the cloud carried her away up to her fairy palace in the
sky. But a brave youth had seen all that happened from behind a bush, and
no sooner did the fairy spirit away the princess to her palace than he
turned himself into an eagle and flew after them. He lighted on a tree
just outside the palace, and looking in at the window he beheld a room
full of young girls all in bed; for these were the victims of former years
whom the fairy cloud had half killed by sucking their blood; yet they
called her mamma. When the fairy went away and left the girls, the brave
young man had food drawn up for them by ropes, and he told them to ask the
fairy how she might be killed and what was to become of them when she
died. It was a delicate question, but the fairy answered it, saying, “I
shall never die.” However, when the girls pressed her, she took them out
on a terrace and said, “Do you see that mountain far off there? On that
mountain is a tigress with seven heads. If you wish me to die, a lion must
fight that tigress and tear off all seven of her heads. In her body is an
egg, and if any one hits me with it in the middle of my forehead, I shall
die; but if that egg falls into my hands, the tigress will come to life
again, resume her seven heads, and I shall live.” When the young girls
heard this they pretended to be glad and said, “Good! certainly our mamma
can never die,” but naturally they were discouraged. However, when she
went away again, they told it all to the young man, and he bade them have
no fear. Away he went to the mountain, turned himself into a lion, and
fought the tigress. Meantime the fairy came home, saying, “Alas! I feel
ill!” For six days the fight went on, the young man tearing off one of the
tigress’s heads each day, and each day the strength of the fairy kept
ebbing away. Then after allowing himself two days’ rest the hero tore off
the seventh head and secured the egg, but not till it had rolled into the
sea and been brought back to him by a friendly dog-fish. When he returned
to the fairy with the egg in his hand, she begged and prayed him to give
it her, but he made her first restore the young girls to health and send
them away in handsome carriages. When she had done so, he struck her on
the forehead with the egg, and she fell down dead.(349) Similarly in a
story from the western Riviera a sorcerer called Body-without-Soul can
only be killed by means of an egg which is in an eagle, which is in a dog,
which is in a lion; and the egg must be broken on the sorcerer’s forehead.
The hero, who achieves the adventure, has received the power of changing
himself into a lion, a dog, an eagle, and an ant from four creatures of
these sorts among whom he had fairly divided the carcase of a dead
ass.(350)

(M89) Stories of the same sort are current among Slavonic peoples. In some
of them, as in the biblical story of Samson and Delilah, the warlock is
questioned by a treacherous woman as to the place where his strength
resides or his life or death is stowed away; and his suspicions being
roused by her curiosity, he at first puts her off with false answers, but
is at last beguiled into telling her the truth, thereby incurring his doom
through her treachery. Thus a Russian story tells how a certain warlock
called Kashtshei or Koshchei the Deathless carried off a princess and kept
her prisoner in his golden castle. However, a prince made up to her one
day as she was walking alone and disconsolate in the castle garden, and
cheered by the prospect of escaping with him she went to the warlock and
coaxed him with false and flattering words, saying, “My dearest friend,
tell me, I pray you, will you never die?” “Certainly not,” says he.
“Well,” says she, “and where is your death? is it in your dwelling?” “To
be sure it is,” says he, “it is in the broom under the threshold.”
Thereupon the princess seized the broom and threw it on the fire, but
although the broom burned, the deathless Koshchei remained alive; indeed
not so much as a hair of him was singed. Balked in her first attempt, the
artful hussy pouted and said, “You do not love me true, for you have not
told me where your death is; yet I am not angry, but love you with all my
heart.” With these fawning words she besought the warlock to tell her
truly where his death was. So he laughed and said, “Why do you wish to
know? Well then, out of love I will tell you where it lies. In a certain
field there stand three green oaks, and under the roots of the largest oak
is a worm, and if ever this worm is found and crushed, that instant I
shall die.” When the princess heard these words, she went straight to her
lover and told him all; and he searched till he found the oaks and dug up
the worm and crushed it. Then he hurried to the warlock’s castle, but only
to learn from the princess that the warlock was still alive. Then she fell
to wheedling and coaxing Koshchei once more, and this time, overcome by
her wiles, he opened his heart to her and told her the truth. “My death,”
said he, “is far from here and hard to find, on the wide ocean. In that
sea is an island, and on the island there grows a green oak, and beneath
the oak is an iron chest, and in the chest is a small basket, and in the
basket is a hare, and in the hare is a duck, and in the duck is an egg;
and he who finds the egg and breaks it, kills me at the same time.” The
prince naturally procured the fateful egg and with it in his hands he
confronted the deathless warlock. The monster would have killed him, but
the prince began to squeeze the egg. At that the warlock shrieked with
pain, and turning to the false princess, who stood by smirking and
smiling, “Was it not out of love for you,” said he, “that I told you where
my death was? And is this the return you make to me?” With that he grabbed
at his sword, which hung from a peg on the wall; but before he could reach
it, the prince had crushed the egg, and sure enough the deathless warlock
found his death at the same moment.(351)

(M90) In another version of the same story, when the cunning warlock
deceives the traitress by telling her that his death is in the broom, she
gilds the broom, and at supper the warlock sees it shining under the
threshold and asks her sharply, “What’s that?” “Oh,” says she, “you see
how I honour you.” “Simpleton!” says he, “I was joking. My death is out
there fastened to the oak fence.” So next day when the warlock was out,
the prince came and gilded the whole fence; and in the evening when the
warlock was at supper he looked out of the window and saw the fence
glittering like gold. “And pray what may that be?” said he to the
princess. “You see,” said she, “how I respect you. If you are dear to me,
dear too is your death. That is why I have gilded the fence in which your
death resides.” The speech pleased the warlock, and in the fulness of his
heart he revealed to her the fatal secret of the egg. When the prince,
with the help of some friendly animals, obtained possession of the egg, he
put it in his bosom and repaired to the warlock’s house. The warlock
himself was sitting at the window in a very gloomy frame of mind; and when
the prince appeared and shewed him the egg, the light grew dim in the
warlock’s eyes and he became all of a sudden very meek and mild. But when
the prince began to play with the egg and to throw it from one hand to the
other, the deathless Koshchei staggered from one corner of the room to the
other, and when the prince broke the egg, Koshchei the Deathless fell down
and died.(352) “In one of the descriptions of Koshchei’s death, he is said
to be killed by a blow on the forehead inflicted by the mysterious
egg—that last link in the magic chain by which his life is darkly bound.
In another version of the same story, but told of a snake, the fatal blow
is struck by a small stone found in the yolk of an egg, which is inside a
duck, which is inside a hare, which is inside a stone, which is on an
island.”(353) In another Russian story the death of an enchantress is in a
blue rose-tree in a blue forest. Prince Ivan uproots the rose-tree,
whereupon the enchantress straightway sickens. He brings the rose-tree to
her house and finds her at the point of death. Then he throws it into the
cellar, crying, “Behold her death!” and at once the whole building shakes,
“and becomes an island, on which are people who had been sitting in Hell,
and who offer up thanks to Prince Ivan.”(354) In another Russian story a
prince is grievously tormented by a witch who has got hold of his heart,
and keeps it seething in a magic cauldron.(355)

(M91) In a Bohemian tale a warlock’s strength lies in an egg which is in a
duck, which is in a stag, which is under a tree. A seer finds the egg and
sucks it. Then the warlock grows as weak as a child, “for all his strength
had passed into the seer.”(356) A Servian story relates how a certain
warlock called True Steel carried off a prince’s wife and kept her shut up
in his cave. But the prince contrived to get speech of her and told her
that she must persuade True Steel to reveal to her where his strength lay.
So when True Steel came home, the prince’s wife said to him, “Tell me,
now, where is your great strength?” He answered, “My wife, my strength is
in my sword.” Then she began to pray and turned to his sword. When True
Steel saw that, he laughed and said, “O foolish woman! my strength is not
in my sword, but in my bow and arrows.” Then she turned towards the bow
and arrows and prayed. But True Steel said, “I see, my wife, you have a
clever teacher who has taught you to find out where my strength lies. I
could almost say that your husband is living, and it is he who teaches
you.” But she assured him that nobody had taught her. When she found he
had deceived her again, she waited for some days and then asked him again
about the secret of his strength. He answered, “Since you think so much of
my strength, I will tell you truly where it is. Far away from here there
is a very high mountain; in the mountain there is a fox; in the fox there
is a heart; in the heart there is a bird, and in this bird is my strength.
It is no easy task, however, to catch the fox, for she can transform
herself into a multitude of creatures.” So next day, when True Steel went
forth from the cave, the prince came and learned from his wife the true
secret of the warlock’s strength. So away he hied to the mountain, and
there, though the fox, or rather the vixen, turned herself into various
shapes, he managed with the help of certain friendly eagles, falcons, and
dragons, to catch and kill her. Then he took out the fox’s heart, and out
of the heart he took the bird and burned it in a great fire. At that very
moment True Steel fell down dead.(357)

(M92) In another Servian story we read how a dragon resided in a
water-mill and ate up two king’s sons, one after the other. The third son
went out to seek his brothers, and coming to the water-mill he found
nobody in it but an old woman. She revealed to him the dreadful character
of the being that kept the mill, and how he had devoured the prince’s two
elder brothers, and she implored him to go away home before the same fate
should overtake him. But he was both brave and cunning, and he said to
her, “Listen well to what I am going to say to you. Ask the dragon whither
he goes and where his strength is; then kiss all that place where he tells
you his strength is, as if from love, till you find it out, and afterwards
tell me when I come.” So when the dragon came in, the old woman began to
question him, “Where in God’s name have you been? Whither do you go so
far? You will never tell me whither you go.” The dragon replied, “Well, my
dear old woman, I do go far.” Then the old woman coaxed him, saying, “And
why do you go so far? Tell me where your strength is. If I knew where your
strength is, I don’t know what I should do for love; I would kiss all that
place.” Thereupon the dragon smiled and said to her, “Yonder is my
strength, in that fireplace.” Then the old woman began to fondle and kiss
the fireplace; and the dragon on seeing it burst into a laugh. “Silly old
woman,” he said, “my strength is not there. It is in the tree-fungus in
front of the house.” Then the old woman began to fondle and kiss the tree;
but the dragon laughed again and said to her, “Away, old woman! my
strength is not there.” “Then where is it?” asked the old woman. “My
strength,” said he, “is a long way off, and you cannot go thither. Far in
another kingdom under the king’s city is a lake; in the lake is a dragon;
in the dragon is a boar; in the boar is a pigeon, and in the pigeon is my
strength.” The murder was now out; so next morning when the dragon went
away from the mill to attend to his usual business of eating people up,
the prince came to the old woman and she let him into the secret of the
dragon’s strength. The prince accordingly set off to find the lake in the
far country and the other dragon that lived in it. He found them both at
last; the lake was a still and lonely water surrounded by green meadows,
where flocks of sheep nibbled the sweet lush grass. The hero tucked up his
hose and his sleeves, and wading out into the lake called aloud on the
dragon to come forth and fight. Soon the monster emerged from the water,
slimy and dripping, his scaly back glistening in the morning sun. The two
grappled and wrestled from morning to afternoon of a long summer day. What
with the heat of the weather and the violence of his exertions the dragon
was quite exhausted, and said, “Let me go, prince, that I may moisten my
parched head in the lake and toss you to the sky.” But the prince sternly
refused; so the dragon relaxed his grip and sank under the water, which
bubbled and gurgled over the place where he plunged into the depths. When
he had disappeared and the ripples had subsided on the surface, you would
never have suspected that under that calm water, reflecting the green
banks, the white, straying sheep, the blue sky, and the fleecy
gold-flecked clouds of a summer evening, there lurked so ferocious and
dangerous a monster. Next day the combat was renewed with the very same
result. But on the third day the hero, fortified by a kiss from the fair
daughter of the king of the land, tossed the dragon high in air, and when
the monster fell with a most tremendous thud on the water he burst into
little bits. Out of the pieces sprang a boar which ran away as fast as it
could lay legs to the ground. But the prince sent sheep-dogs after it
which caught it up and rent it in pieces. Out of the pieces sprang a
pigeon; but the prince let loose a falcon, which stooped on the pigeon,
seized it in its talons, and brought it to the prince. In the pigeon was
the life of the dragon who kept the mill, so before inflicting on the
monster the doom he so richly merited, the prince questioned him as to the
fate of his two elder brothers who had perished at the hands, or rather
under the claws and fangs, of the dragon. Having ascertained how to
restore them to life and to release a multitude of other victims whom the
dragon kept prisoners in a vault under the water-mill, the prince wrung
the pigeon’s neck, and that of course was the end of the dragon and his
unscrupulous career.(358)

(M93) A Lithuanian story relates how a prince married a princess and got
with her a kingdom to boot. She gave him the keys of the castle and told
him he might enter every chamber except one small room, of which the key
had a bit of twine tied to it. But one day, having nothing to do, he
amused himself by rummaging in all the rooms of the castle, and amongst
the rest he went into the little forbidden chamber. In it he found twelve
heads and a man hanging on the hook of the door. The man said to the
prince, “Oblige me by fetching me a glass of beer.” The prince fetched it
and the man drank it. Then the man said to the prince, “Oblige me by
releasing me from the hook.” The prince released him. Now the man was a
king without a soul, and he at once availed himself of his liberty to come
to an understanding with the coachman of the castle, and between them they
put the prince’s wife in the coach and drove off with her. The prince rode
after them and coming up with the coach called out, “Halt, Soulless King!
Step out and fight!” The King stepped out and the fight began. In a trice
the King had sliced the buttons off the prince’s coat and pinked him in
the side. Then he stepped into the coach and drove off. The prince rode
after him again, and when he came up with the coach he called out, “Halt,
Soulless King! Step out and fight!” The King stepped out and they fought
again, and again the King sliced off the prince’s buttons and pinked him
in the side. Then, after carefully wiping and sheathing his sword, he said
to his discomfited adversary, “Now look here. I let you off the first time
for the sake of the glass of beer you gave me, and I let you off the
second time because you let me down from that infernal hook; but if you
fight me a third time, by Gad I’ll make mince meat of you.” Then he
stepped into the coach, told the coachman to drive on, jerked up the coach
window with a bang, and drove away like anything. But the prince galloped
after him and coming up with the coach for the third time he called out,
“Halt, Soulless King! Step out and fight!” The King did step out, and at
it the two of them went, tooth and nail. But the prince had no chance.
Before he knew where he was, the King ran him through the body, whisked
off his head, and left him lying a heap of raw mince beside the road. His
wife, or rather his widow, said to the King, “Let me gather up the
fragments that remain.” The King said, “Certainly.” So she made up the
mince into a neat parcel, deposited it on the front seat of the coach, and
away they drove to the King’s castle. Well to cut a long story short, a
brother-in-law of the deceased prince sent a hawk to fetch the water of
life; the hawk brought it in his beak; the brother-in-law poured the water
on the fragments of the prince, and the prince came to life again at once
safe and sound. Then he went to the King’s castle and played on a little
pipe, and his wife heard it in the castle and said, “That is how my
husband used to play, whom the King cut in bits.” So she went out to the
gate and said to him, “Are you my husband?” “That I am,” said he, and he
told her to find out from the King where he kept his soul and then to come
and tell him. So she went to the King and said to him, “Where my husband’s
soul is, there must mine be too.” The King was touched by this artless
expression of her love, and he replied, “My soul is in yonder lake. In
that lake lies a stone; in that stone is a hare; in the hare is a duck, in
the duck is an egg, and in the egg is my soul.” So the queen went and told
her former husband, the prince, and gave him plenty of money and food for
the journey, and off he set for the lake. But when he came to the lake, he
did not know in which part of it the stone was; so he roamed about the
banks, and he was hungry, for he had eaten up all the food. Then he met a
dog, and the dog said to him, “Don’t shoot me dead. I will be a mighty
helper to you in your time of need.” So he let the dog live and went on
his way. Next he saw a tree with two hawks on it, an old one and a young
one, and he climbed up the tree to catch the young one. But the old hawk
said to him, “Don’t take my young one. He will be a mighty helper to you
in your time of need.” So the prince climbed down the tree and went on his
way. Then he saw a huge crab and wished to break off one of his claws for
something to eat, but the crab said to him, “Don’t break off my claw. It
will be a mighty helper to you in your time of need.” So he left the crab
alone and went on his way. And he came to people and got them to fish up
the stone for him from the lake and to bring it to him on the bank. And
there he broke the stone in two and out of the stone jumped a hare. But
the dog seized the hare and tore him, and out of the hare flew a duck. The
young hawk pounced on the duck and rent it, and out of the duck fell an
egg, and the egg rolled into the lake. But the crab fetched the egg out of
the lake and brought it to the prince. Then the King fell ill. So the
prince went to the King and said, “You killed me. Now I will kill you.”
“Don’t,” said the King. “I will,” said the prince. With that he threw the
egg on the ground, and the King fell out of the bed as dead as a stone. So
the prince went home with his wife and very happy they were, you may take
my word for it.(359)

(M94) Amongst peoples of the Teutonic stock stories of the external soul
are not wanting. In a tale told by the Saxons of Transylvania it is said
that a young man shot at a witch again and again. The bullets went clean
through her but did her no harm, and she only laughed and mocked at him.
“Silly earthworm,” she cried, “shoot as much as you like. It does me no
harm. For know that my life resides not in me but far, far away. In a
mountain is a pond, on the pond swims a duck, in the duck is an egg, in
the egg burns a light, that light is my life. If you could put out that
light, my life would be at an end. But that can never, never be.” However,
the young man got hold of the egg, smashed it, and put out the light, and
with it the witch’s life went out also.(360) In this last story, as in
many other stories of the same type, the hero achieves his adventure by
the help of certain grateful animals whom he had met and done a service to
on his travels. The same incident occurs in another German tale of this
class which runs thus. Once upon a time there was a young fellow called
Body-without-Soul, or, for short, Soulless, and he was a cannibal who
would eat nothing but young girls. Now it was a custom in that country
that the girls drew lots every year, and the one on whom the lot fell was
handed over to Soulless. In time it happened that the lot fell on the
king’s daughter. The king was exceedingly sorry, but what could he do? Law
was law, and had to be obeyed. So they took the princess to the castle
where Soulless resided; and he shut her up in the larder and fattened her
for his dinner. But a brave soldier undertook to rescue her, and off he
set for the cannibal’s castle. Well, as he trudged along, what should he
see but a fly, an eagle, a bear, and a lion sitting in a field by the side
of the road, and quarrelling about their shares in a dead horse. So he
divided the carcase fairly between them, and as a reward the fly and the
eagle bestowed on him the power of changing himself at will into either of
their shapes. That evening he made himself into an eagle, and flew up a
high tree; there he looked about, but could see nothing but trees. Next
morning he flew on till he came to a great castle, and at the gate was a
big black board with these words chalked up on it: “Mr. Soulless lives
here.” When the soldier read that he was glad, and changed himself into a
fly, and flew buzzing from window to window, looking in at every one till
he came to the one where the fair princess sat a prisoner. He introduced
himself at once and said, “I am come to free you, but first you must learn
where the soul of Soulless really is.” “I don’t know,” replied the
princess, “but I will ask.” So after much coaxing and entreaty she learned
that the soul of Soulless was in a box, and that the box was on a rock in
the middle of the Red Sea. When the soldier heard that, he turned himself
into an eagle again, flew to the Red Sea, and came back with the soul of
Soulless in the box. Arrived at the castle he knocked and banged at the
door as if the house was on fire. Soulless did not know what was the
matter, and he came down and opened the door himself. When he saw the
soldier standing at it, I can assure you he was in a towering rage. “What
do you mean,” he roared, “by knocking at my door like that? I’ll gobble
you up on the spot, skin and hair and all.” But the soldier laughed in his
face. “You’d better not do that,” said he, “for here I’ve got your soul in
the box.” When the cannibal heard that, all his courage went down into the
calves of his legs, and he begged and entreated the soldier to give him
his soul. But the soldier would not hear of it; he opened the box, took
out the soul, and flung it over his head; and that same instant down fell
the cannibal, dead as a door-nail.(361)

(M95) Another German story, which embodies the notion of the external soul
in a somewhat different form, tells how once upon a time a certain king
had three sons and a daughter, and for each of the king’s four children
there grew a flower in the king’s garden, which was a life-flower; for it
bloomed and flourished so long as the child lived, but drooped and
withered away when the child died. Now the time came when the king’s
daughter married a rich man and went to live with him far away. But it was
not long before her flower withered in the king’s garden. So the eldest
brother went forth to visit his brother-in-law and comfort him in his
bereavement. But when he came to his brother-in-law’s castle he saw the
corpse of his murdered sister weltering on the ramparts. And his wicked
brother-in-law set before him boiled human hands and feet for his dinner.
And when the king’s son refused to eat of them, his brother-in-law led him
through many chambers to a murder-hole, where were all sorts of implements
of murder, but especially a gallows, a wheel, and a pot of blood. Here he
said to the prince, “You must die, but you may choose your kind of death.”
The prince chose to die on the gallows; and die he did even as he had
said. So the eldest son’s flower withered in the king’s garden, and the
second son went forth to learn the fate of his brother and sister. But it
fared with him no better than with his elder brother, for he too died on
the gallows in the murder-hole of his wicked brother-in-law’s castle, and
his flower also withered away in the king’s garden at home. Now when the
youngest son was also come to his brother-in-law’s castle and saw the
corpse of his murdered sister weltering on the ramparts, and the bodies of
his two murdered brothers dangling from the gallows in the murder-hole, he
said that for his part he had a fancy to die by the wheel, but he was not
quite sure how the thing was done, and would his brother-in-law kindly
shew him? “Oh, it’s quite easy,” said his brother-in-law, “you just put
your head in, so,” and with that he popped his head through the middle of
the wheel. “Just so,” said the king’s youngest son, and he gave the wheel
a twirl, and as it spun round and round, the wicked brother-in-law died a
painful death, which he richly deserved. And when he was quite dead, the
murdered brothers and sister came to life again, and their withered
flowers bloomed afresh in the king’s garden.(362)

(M96) In another German story an old warlock lives with a damsel all alone
in the midst of a vast and gloomy wood. She fears that being old he may
die and leave her alone in the forest. But he reassures her. “Dear child,”
he said, “I cannot die, and I have no heart in my breast.” But she
importuned him to tell her where his heart was. So he said, “Far, far from
here in an unknown and lonesome land stands a great church. The church is
well secured with iron doors, and round about it flows a broad deep moat.
In the church flies a bird and in the bird is my heart. So long as the
bird lives, I live. It cannot die of itself, and no one can catch it;
therefore I cannot die, and you need have no anxiety.” However the young
man, whose bride the damsel was to have been before the warlock spirited
her away, contrived to reach the church and catch the bird. He brought it
to the damsel, who stowed him and it away under the warlock’s bed. Soon
the old warlock came home. He was ailing, and said so. The girl wept and
said, “Alas, daddy is dying; he has a heart in his breast after all.”
“Child,” replied the warlock, “hold your tongue. I _can’t_ die. It will
soon pass over.” At that the young man under the bed gave the bird a
gentle squeeze; and as he did so, the old warlock felt very unwell and sat
down. Then the young man gripped the bird tighter, and the warlock fell
senseless from his chair. “Now squeeze him dead,” cried the damsel. Her
lover obeyed, and when the bird was dead, the old warlock also lay dead on
the floor.(363)

(M97) In the Norse tale of “the giant who had no heart in his body,” the
giant tells the captive princess, “Far, far away in a lake lies an island,
on that island stands a church, in that church is a well, in that well
swims a duck, in that duck there is an egg, and in that egg there lies my
heart.” The hero of the tale, with the help of some animals to whom he had
been kind, obtains the egg and squeezes it, at which the giant screams
piteously and begs for his life. But the hero breaks the egg in pieces and
the giant at once bursts.(364) In another Norse story a hill-ogre tells
the captive princess that she will never be able to return home unless she
finds the grain of sand which lies under the ninth tongue of the ninth
head of a certain dragon; but if that grain of sand were to come over the
rock in which the ogres live, they would all burst “and the rock itself
would become a gilded palace, and the lake green meadows.” The hero finds
the grain of sand and takes it to the top of the high rock in which the
ogres live. So all the ogres burst and the rest falls out as one of the
ogres had foretold.(365)

(M98) In a Danish tale a warlock carries off a princess to his wondrous
subterranean palace; and when she anxiously enquires how long he is likely
to live, he assures her that he will certainly survive her. “No man,” he
says, “can rob me of my life, for it is in my heart, and my heart is not
here; it is in safer keeping.” She urges him to tell her where it is, so
he says: “Very far from here, in a land that is called Poland, there is a
great lake, and in the lake is a dragon, and in the dragon is a hare, and
in the hare is a duck, and in the duck is an egg, and in the egg is my
heart. It is in good keeping, you may trust me. Nobody is likely to
stumble upon it.” However, the hero of the tale, who is also the husband
of the kidnapped princess, has fortunately received the power of turning
himself at will into a bear, a dog, an ant, or a falcon as a reward for
having divided the carcase of a deer impartially between four animals of
these species; and availing himself of this useful art he not only makes
his way into the warlock’s enchanted palace but also secures the egg on
which the enchanter’s life depends. No sooner has he smashed the egg on
the enchanter’s ugly face than that miscreant drops down as dead as a
herring.(366)

(M99) Another Danish story tells how a lad went out into the world to look
for service. He met a man, who hired him for three years and said he would
give him a bushel of money for the first year, two bushels of money for
the second, and three bushels of money for the third. The lad was well
content, as you may believe, to get such good wages. But the man was a
magician, and it was not long before he turned the lad into a hare, by
pronouncing over him some strange words. For a whole year the lad scoured
the woods in the shape of a hare, and there was not a sportsman in all the
country round about that had not a shot at him. But not one of them could
hit him. At the end of the year the magician spoke some other words over
him and turned him back into human form and gave him the bushel of money.
But then the magician mumbled some other words, and the lad was turned
into a raven and flew up into the sky. Again all the marksmen of the
neighbourhood pointed their guns at him and banged away; but they only
wasted powder and shot, for not one of them could hit him. At the end of
the year the magician changed him back into a man and gave him two
bushelfuls of money. But soon after he changed him into a fish, and in the
form of a fish the young man jumped into the brook and swam down into the
sea. There at the bottom of the ocean he saw a most beautiful castle all
of glass and in it a lovely girl all alone. Round and round the castle he
swam, looking into all the rooms and admiring everything. At last he
remembered the words the magician had spoken when he turned him back into
a man, and by repeating them he was at once transformed into a stripling
again. He walked into the glass castle and introduced himself to the girl,
and though at first she was nearly frightened to death, she was soon very
glad to have him with her. From her he learned that she was no other than
the daughter of the magician, who kept her there for safety at the bottom
of the sea. The two now laid their heads together, and she told him what
to do. There was a certain king who owed her father money and had not the
wherewithal to pay; and if he did not pay by such and such a day, his head
was to be cut off. So the young man was to take service with the king,
offer him the bushels of money which he had earned in the service of the
magician, and go with him to the magician to pay his debt. But he was to
dress up as the court Fool so that the magician would not know him, and in
that character he was to indulge in horse-play, smashing windows and so
on, till the magician would fall into such a rage that though the king had
paid his debt to the last farthing he would nevertheless be condemned to
instant execution unless he could answer the magician’s questions. The
questions would be these, “Where is my daughter?” “Would you know her if
you saw her?” Now the magician would cause a whole line of phantom women
to pass by, so that the young man would not be able to tell which of them
was the sorcerer’s daughter; but when her turn came to pass by she would
give him a nudge as a sign, and so he would know her. Then the magician
would ask, “And where is my heart?” And the young man was to say, “In a
fish.” And the magician would ask, “Would you know the fish if you saw
it?” And he would cause all sorts of fishes to pass by, and the young man
would have to say in which of them was the heart of the magician. He would
never be able of himself to tell in which of them it was, but the girl
would stand beside him, and when the right fish passed by, she would nudge
him and he was to catch it and rip it up, and the magician would ask him
no more questions. Everything turned out exactly as she had said. The king
paid his debt to the last farthing; but the young man disguised as the
court Fool cut such capers and smashed so many glass windows and doors
that the heaps of broken glass were something frightful to contemplate. So
there was nothing for it but that the king, who was of course responsible
for the pranks of his Fool, should either answer the magician’s questions
or die the death. While they were getting the axe and the block ready in
the courtyard, the trembling king was interrogated by the stern magician.
“Where is my daughter?” asked the sorcerer. Here the court Fool cut in and
said, “She is at the bottom of the sea.” “Would you know her if you saw
her?” enquired the magician. “To be sure I would,” answered the Fool. So
the magician caused a whole regiment of girls to defile before him, one
after the other; but they were mere phantoms and apparitions. Almost the
last of all came the magician’s daughter, and when she passed the young
man she pinched his arm so hard that he almost shrieked with pain.
However, he dissembled his agony and putting his arm round her waist held
her fast. The magician now played his last trump. “Where is my heart?”
said he. “In a fish,” said the Fool. “Would you know the fish if you saw
it?” asked the magician. “To be sure I would,” answered the Fool. Then all
the fishes of the sea swam past, and when the right one came last of all,
the girl nudged her lover; he seized the fish, and with one stroke of his
knife slit it from end to end. Out tumbled the magician’s heart; the young
man seized it and cut it in two, and at the same moment the magician fell
dead.(367)

(M100) In Iceland they say that once a king’s son was out hunting in a
wood with the courtiers, when the mist came down so thick that his
companions lost sight of the prince, and though they searched the woods
till evening they could not find him. At the news the king was
inconsolable, and taking to his bed caused proclamation to be made that he
who could find and bring back his lost son should have half the kingdom.
Now an old man and his old wife lived together in a wretched hut, and they
had a daughter. She resolved to seek the lost prince and get the promised
reward. So her parents gave her food for the journey and a pair of new
shoes, and off she set. Well, she walked and better walked for days, and
at last she came towards evening to a cave and going into it she saw two
beds. One of them was covered with a cloth of silver and the other with a
cloth of gold; and in the bed with the golden coverlet was the king’s son
fast asleep. She tried to wake him, but all in vain. Then she noticed some
runes carved on the bedsteads, but she could not read them. So she went
back to the mouth of the cave and hid behind the door. Hardly had she time
to conceal herself when she heard a loud noise and saw two giantesses, two
great hulking louts they were, stride into the cave. No sooner were they
in than one said to the other, “Ugh, what a smell of human flesh in our
cave!” But the other thought the smell might come from the king’s son.
They went up to the bed where he was sleeping, and calling two swans,
which the girl had not perceived in the dim light of the cave, they said:—


    “_Sing, sing, my swans,_
    _That the king’s son may wake._”


So the swans sang and the king’s son awoke. The younger of the two hags
offered him food, but he refused it; then she asked him, if he would marry
her, but he said “No, certainly not.” Then she shrieked and said to the
swans:—


    “_Sing, sing, my swans,_
    _That the king’s son may sleep._”


The swans sang and the king’s son fell fast asleep. Then the two
giantesses lay down in the bed with the silver coverlet and slept till
break of day. When they woke in the morning, they wakened the prince and
offered him food again, but he again refused it; and the younger hag again
asked him if he would have her to wife, but he would not hear of it. So
they put him to sleep again to the singing of the swans and left the cave.
When they were gone a while, the girl came forth from her hiding-place and
waked the king’s son to the song of the swans, and he was glad to see her
and to get the news. She told him that, when the hag asked him again to
marry her, he must say, “Yes, but you must first tell me what is written
on the beds, and what you do by day.” So when it drew to evening, the girl
hid herself again, and soon the giantesses came, lit a fire in the cave,
and cooked at it the game they had brought with them. And the younger hag
wakened the king’s son and asked him if he would have something to eat.
This time he said “Yes.” And when he had finished his supper, the giantess
asked him if he would have her to wife. “That I will,” said he, “but first
you must tell me what the runes mean that are carved on the bed.” She said
that they meant:—


    “_Run, run, my little bed,_
    _Run whither I will._”


He said he was very glad to know it, but she must also tell him what they
did all day long out there in the wood. The hag told him that they hunted
beasts and birds, and that between whiles they sat down under an oak and
threw their life-egg from one to the other, but they had to be careful,
for if the egg were to break, they would both die. The king’s son thanked
her kindly, but next morning when the giantess asked him to go with them
to the wood he said that he would rather stay at home. So away went the
giantesses by themselves, after they had lulled him to sleep to the
singing of the swans. But hardly were their backs turned when out came the
girl and wakened the prince and told him to take his spear, and they would
pursue the giantesses, and when they were throwing their life-egg to each
other he was to hurl his spear at it and smash it to bits. “But if you
miss,” said she, “it is as much as your life is worth.” So they came to
the oak in the wood, and there they heard a loud laugh, and the king’s son
climbed up the tree, and there under the oak were the two giantesses, and
one of them had a golden egg in her hand and threw it to the other. Just
then the king’s son hurled his spear and hit the egg so that it burst. At
the same time the two hags fell dead to the ground and the slaver dribbled
out of their mouths.(368) In an Icelandic parallel to the story of
Meleager the spae-wives or sibyls come and foretell the high destiny of
the infant Gestr as he lies in his cradle. Two candles were burning beside
the child, and the youngest of the spae-wives, conceiving herself
slighted, cried out, “I foretell that the child shall live no longer than
this candle burns.” Whereupon the chief sibyl put out the candle and gave
it to Gestr’s mother to keep, charging her not to light it again until her
son should wish to die. Gestr lived three hundred years; then he kindled
the candle and expired.(369)

(M101) The conception of the external soul meets us also in Celtic
stories. Thus a tale, told by a blind fiddler in the island of Islay,
relates how a giant carried off a king’s wife and his two horses and kept
them in his den. But the horses attacked the giant and mauled him so that
he could hardly crawl. He said to the queen, “If I myself had my soul to
keep, those horses would have killed me long ago.” “And where, my dear,”
said she, “is thy soul? By the books I will take care of it.” “It is in
the Bonnach stone,” said he. So on the morrow when the giant went out, the
queen set the Bonnach stone in order exceedingly. In the dusk of the
evening the giant came back, and he said to the queen, “What made thee set
the Bonnach stone in order like that?” “Because thy soul is in it,” quoth
she. “I perceive,” said he, “that if thou didst know where my soul is,
thou wouldst give it much respect.” “That I would,” said she. “It is not
there,” said he, “my soul is; it is in the threshold.” On the morrow she
set the threshold in order finely, and when the giant returned, he asked
her, “What brought thee to set the threshold in order like that?” “Because
thy soul is in it,” said she. “I perceive,” said he, “that if thou knewest
where my soul is, thou wouldst take care of it.” “That I would,” said she.
“It is not there that my soul is,” said he. “There is a great flagstone
under the threshold. There is a wether under the flag. There is a duck in
the wether’s belly, and an egg in the belly of the duck, and it is in the
egg that my soul is.” On the morrow when the giant was gone, they raised
the flagstone and out came the wether. They opened the wether and out came
the duck. They split the duck, and out came the egg. And the queen took
the egg and crushed it in her hands, and at that very moment the giant,
who was coming home in the dusk, fell down dead.(370) In another Celtic
tale, a sea beast has carried off a king’s daughter, and an old smith
declares that there is no way of killing the beast but one. “In the island
that is in the midst of the loch is Eillid Chaisfhion—the white-footed
hind, of the slenderest legs, and the swiftest step, and though she should
be caught, there would spring a hoodie out of her, and though the hoodie
should be caught, there would spring a trout out of her, but there is an
egg in the mouth of the trout, and the soul of the beast is in the egg,
and if the egg breaks, the beast is dead.” As usual the egg is broken and
the beast dies.(371)

(M102) In these Celtic tales the helpful animals reappear and assist the
hero in achieving the adventure, though for the sake of brevity I have
omitted to describe the parts they play in the plot. They figure also in
an Argyleshire story, which seems however to be of Irish origin; for the
Cruachan of which we hear in it is not the rugged and lofty mountain Ben
Cruachan which towers above the beautiful Loch Awe, but Roscommon Cruachan
near Belanagare, the ancient palace of the kings of Connaught, long famous
in Irish tradition.(372) The story relates how a big giant, King of
Sorcha, stole away the wife and the shaggy dun filly of the herdsman or
king of Cruachan. So the herdsman baked a bannock to take with him by the
way, and set off in quest of his wife and the filly. He went for a long,
long time, till at last his soles were blackened and his cheeks were
sunken, the yellow-headed birds were going to rest at the roots of the
bushes and the tops of the thickets, and the dark clouds of night were
coming and the clouds of day were departing; and he saw a house far from
him, but though it was far from him he did not take long to reach it. He
went in, and sat in the upper end of the house, but there was no one
within; and the fire was newly kindled, the house newly swept, and the bed
newly made; and who came in but the hawk of Glencuaich, and she said to
him, “Are you here, young son of Cruachan?” “I am,” said he. The hawk said
to him, “Do you know who was here last night?” “I do not,” said he. “There
were here,” said she, “the big giant, King of Sorcha, your wife, and the
shaggy dun filly; and the giant was threatening terribly that if he could
get hold of you he would take the head off you.” “I well believe it,” said
he. Then she gave him food and drink, and sent him to bed. She rose in the
morning, made breakfast for him, and baked a bannock for him to take with
him on his journey. And he went away and travelled all day, and in the
evening he came to another house and went in, and was entertained by the
green-headed duck, who told him that the giant had rested there the night
before with the wife and shaggy dun filly of the herdsman of Cruachan. And
next day the herdsman journeyed again, and at evening he came to another
house and went in and was entertained by the fox of the scrubwood, who
told him just what the hawk of Glencuaich and the green-headed duck had
told him before. Next day the same thing happened, only it was the brown
otter of the burn that entertained him at evening in a house where the
fire was newly kindled, the floor newly swept, and the bed newly made. And
next morning when he awoke, the first thing he saw was the hawk of
Glencuaich, the green-headed duck, the fox of the scrubwood, and the brown
otter of the burn all dancing together on the floor. They made breakfast
for him, and partook of it all together, and said to him, “Should you be
at any time in straits, think of us, and we will help you.” Well, that
very evening he came to the cave where the giant lived, and who was there
before him but his own wife? She gave him food and hid him under clothes
at the upper end of the cave. And when the giant came home he sniffed
about and said, “The smell of a stranger is in the cave.” But she said no,
it was only a little bird she had roasted. “And I wish you would tell me,”
said she, “where you keep your life, that I might take good care of it.”
“It is in a grey stone over there,” said he. So next day when he went
away, she took the grey stone and dressed it well, and placed it in the
upper end of the cave. When the giant came home in the evening he said to
her, “What is it that you have dressed there?” “Your own life,” said she,
“and we must be careful of it.” “I perceive that you are very fond of me,
but it is not there,” said he. “Where is it?” said she. “It is in a grey
sheep on yonder hillside,” said he. On the morrow, when he went away, she
got the grey sheep, dressed it well, and placed it in the upper end of the
cave. When he came home in the evening he said, “What is it that you have
dressed there?” “Your own life, my love,” said she. “It is not there as
yet,” said he. “Well!” said she, “you are putting me to great trouble
taking care of it, and you have not told me the truth these two times.” He
then said, “I think that I may tell it to you now. My life is below the
feet of the big horse in the stable. There is a place down there in which
there is a small lake. Over the lake are seven grey hides, and over the
hides are seven sods from the heath, and under all these are seven oak
planks. There is a trout in the lake, and a duck in the belly of the
trout, an egg in the belly of the duck, and a thorn of blackthorn inside
of the egg, and till that thorn is chewed small I cannot be killed.
Whenever the seven grey hides, the seven sods from the heath, and the
seven oak planks are touched I shall feel it wherever I shall be. I have
an axe above the door, and unless all these are cut through with one blow
of it the lake will not be reached; and when it will be reached I shall
feel it.” Next day, when the giant had gone out hunting on the hill, the
herdsman of Cruachan contrived, with the help of the friendly animals—the
hawk, the duck, the fox, and the otter—to get possession of the fateful
thorn and to chew it before the giant could reach him; and no sooner had
he done so than the giant dropped stark and stiff, a corpse.(373)

(M103) Another Argyleshire story relates how a certain giant, who lived in
the Black Corrie of Ben Breck, carried off three daughters of a king, one
after the other, at intervals of seven years. The bereaved monarch sent
champions to rescue his lost daughters, but though they surprised the
giant in his sleep and cut off his head, it was all to no purpose; for as
fast as they cut it off he put it on again and made after them as if
nothing had happened. So the champions fled away before him as fast as
they could lay legs to the ground, and the more agile of them escaped, but
the shorter-winded he caught, bared them to the skin, and hanged them on
hooks against the turrets of his castle. So he went by the name of the
Bare-Stripping Hangman. Now this amiable man had announced his intention
of coming to fetch away the fourth and last of the king’s daughters, when
another seven years should be up. The time was drawing near, and the king,
with the natural instincts of a father, was in great tribulation, when as
good luck would have it a son of the king of Ireland, by name Alastir,
arrived in the king’s castle and undertook to find out where the
Bare-Stripping Hangman had hidden his soul. To cut a long story short, the
artful Hangman had hidden his soul in an egg, which was in the belly of a
duck, which was in the belly of a salmon, which was in the belly of a
swift-footed hind of the cliffs. The prince wormed the secret from a
little old man, and by the help of a dog, a brown otter, and a falcon he
contrived to extract the egg from its various envelopes and crushed it to
bits between his hands and knees. So when he came to the giant’s castle he
found the Bare-Stripping Hangman lying dead on the floor.(374)

(M104) Another Highland story sets forth how Hugh, prince of Lochlin, was
long held captive by a giant who lived in a cave overlooking the Sound of
Mull. At last, after he had spent many years of captivity in that dismal
cave, it came to pass that one night the giant and his wife had a great
dispute, and Hugh overheard their talk, and learned that the giant’s soul
was in a precious gem which he always wore on his forehead. So the prince
watched his opportunity, seized the gem, and having no means of escape or
concealment, hastily swallowed it. Like lightning from the clouds, the
giant’s sword flashed from its scabbard and flew between Hugh’s head and
his body to intercept the gem before it could descend into the prince’s
stomach. But it was too late; and the giant fell down, sword in hand, and
expired without a gasp. Hugh had now lost his head, it is true, but having
the giant’s soul in his body he felt none the worse for the accident. So
he buckled the giant’s sword at his side, mounted the grey filly, swifter
than the east wind, that never had a bridle, and rode home. But the want
of his head made a painful impression on his friends; indeed they
maintained that he was a ghost and shut the door in his face, so now he
wanders for ever in shades of darkness, riding the grey filly fleeter than
the wind. On stormy nights, when the wind howls about the gables and among
the trees, you may see him galloping along the shore of the sea “between
wave and sand.” Many a naughty little boy, who would not go quietly to
bed, has been carried off by Headless Hugh on his grey filly and never
seen again.(375)

(M105) In Sutherlandshire at the present day there is a sept of Mackays
known as “the descendants of the seal,” who claim to be sprung from a
mermaid, and the story they tell in explanation of their claim involves
the notion of the external soul. They say that the laird of Borgie used to
go down to the rocks under his castle to bathe. One day he saw a mermaid
close in shore, combing her hair and swimming about, as if she were
anxious to land. After watching her for a time, he noticed her cowl on the
rocks beside him, and knowing that she could not go to sea without it, he
carried the cowl up to the castle in the hope that she would follow him.
She did so, but he refused to give up the cowl and detained the sea-maiden
herself and made her his wife. To this she consented with great
reluctance, and told him that her life was bound up with the cowl, and
that if it rotted or was destroyed she would instantly die. So the cowl
was placed for safety in the middle of a great hay-stack, and there it lay
for years. One unhappy day, when the laird was from home, the servants
were working among the hay and found the cowl. Not knowing what it was,
they shewed it to the lady of the house. The sight revived memories of her
old life in the depths of the sea, so she took the cowl, and leaving her
child in its cot, plunged into the sea and never came home to Borgie any
more. Only sometimes she would swim close in shore to see her boy, and
then she wept because he was not of her own kind that she might take him
to sea with her. The boy grew to be a man, and his descendants are famous
swimmers. They cannot drown, and to this day they are known in the
neighbourhood as _Sliochd an roin_, that is, “the descendants of the
seal.”(376)

(M106) In an Irish story we read how a giant kept a beautiful damsel a
prisoner in his castle on the top of a hill, which was white with the
bones of the champions who had tried in vain to rescue the fair captive.
At last the hero, after hewing and slashing at the giant all to no
purpose, discovered that the only way to kill him was to rub a mole on the
giant’s right breast with a certain egg, which was in a duck, which was in
a chest, which lay locked and bound at the bottom of the sea. With the
help of some obliging salmon, rams, and eagles, the hero as usual made
himself master of the precious egg and slew the giant by merely striking
it against the mole on his right breast.(377) Similarly in a Breton story
there figures a giant whom neither fire nor water nor steel can harm. He
tells his seventh wife, whom he has just married after murdering all her
predecessors, “I am immortal, and no one can hurt me unless he crushes on
my breast an egg, which is in a pigeon, which is in the belly of a hare;
this hare is in the belly of a wolf, and this wolf is in the belly of my
brother, who dwells a thousand leagues from here. So I am quite easy on
that score.” A soldier, the hero of the tale, had been of service to an
ant, a wolf, and a sea-bird, who in return bestowed on him the power of
turning himself into an ant, a wolf, or a sea-bird at will. By means of
this magical power the soldier contrived to obtain the egg and crush it on
the breast of the giant, who immediately expired.(378) Another Breton
story tells of a giant who was called Body-without-Soul because his life
did not reside in his body. He himself dwelt in a beautiful castle which
hung between heaven and earth, suspended by four golden chains; but his
life was in an egg, and the egg was in a dove, and the dove was in a hare,
and the hare was in a wolf, and the wolf was in an iron chest at the
bottom of the sea. In his castle in the air he kept prisoner a beauteous
princess whom he had swooped down upon and carried off in a magic chariot.
But her lover turned himself into an ant and so climbed up one of the
golden chains into the enchanted castle, for he had done a kindness to the
king and queen of ants, and they rewarded him by transforming him into an
ant in his time of need. When he had learned from the captive princess the
secret of the giant’s life, he procured the chest from the bottom of the
sea by the help of the king of fishes, whom he had also obliged; and
opening the chest he killed first the wolf, then the hare, and then the
dove, and at the death of each animal the giant grew weaker and weaker as
if he had lost a limb. In the stomach of the dove the hero found the egg
on which the giant’s life depended, and when he came with it to the castle
he found Body-without-Soul stretched on his bed at the point of death. So
he dashed the egg against the giant’s forehead, the egg broke, and the
giant straightway expired.(379) In another Breton tale the life of a giant
resides in an old box-tree which grows in his castle garden; and to kill
him it is necessary to sever the tap-root of the tree at a single blow of
an axe without injuring any of the lesser roots. This task the hero, as
usual, successfully accomplishes, and at the same moment the giant drops
dead.(380)

(M107) The notion of an external soul has now been traced in folk-tales
told by Aryan peoples from India to Brittany and the Hebrides. We have
still to shew that the same idea occurs commonly in the popular stories of
peoples who do not belong to the Aryan stock. In the first place it
appears in the ancient Egyptian story of “The Two Brothers.” This story
was written down in the reign of Rameses II., about 1300 B.C. It is
therefore older than our present redaction of Homer, and far older than
the Bible. The outline of the story, so far as it concerns us here, is as
follows. Once upon a time there were two brethren; the name of the elder
was Anpu and the name of the younger was Bata. Now Anpu had a house and a
wife, and his younger brother dwelt with him as his servant. It was Anpu
who made the garments, and every morning when it grew light he drove the
kine afield. As he walked behind them they used to say to him, “The grass
is good in such and such a place,” and he heard what they said and led
them to the good pasture that they desired. So his kine grew very sleek
and multiplied greatly. One day when the two brothers were at work in the
field the elder brother said to the younger, “Run and fetch seed from the
village.” So the younger brother ran and said to the wife of his elder
brother, “Give me seed that I may run to the field, for my brother sent me
saying, Tarry not.” She said, “Go to the barn and take as much as thou
wouldst.” He went and filled a jar full of wheat and barley, and came
forth bearing it on his shoulders. When the woman saw him her heart went
out to him, and she laid hold of him and said, “Come, let us rest an hour
together.” But he said, “Thou art to me as a mother, and my brother is to
me as a father.” So he would not hearken to her, but took the load on his
back and went away to the field. In the evening, when the elder brother
was returning from the field, his wife feared for what she had said. So
she took soot and made herself as one who had been beaten. And when her
husband came home, she said, “When thy younger brother came to fetch seed,
he said to me, Come, let us rest an hour together. But I would not, and he
beat me.” Then the elder brother became like a panther of the south; he
sharpened his knife and stood behind the door of the cow-house. And when
the sun set and the younger brother came laden with all the herbs of the
field, as was his wont every day, the cow that walked in front of the herd
said to him, “Behold, thine elder brother stands with a knife to kill
thee. Flee before him.” When he heard what the cow said, he looked under
the door of the cow-house and saw the feet of his elder brother standing
behind the door, his knife in his hand. So he fled and his brother pursued
him with the knife. But the younger brother cried for help to the Sun, and
the Sun heard him and caused a great water to spring up between him and
his elder brother, and the water was full of crocodiles. The two brothers
stood, the one on the one side of the water and the other on the other,
and the younger brother told the elder brother all that had befallen. So
the elder brother repented him of what he had done and he lifted up his
voice and wept. But he could not come at the farther bank by reason of the
crocodiles. His younger brother called to him and said, “Go home and tend
the cattle thyself. For I will dwell no more in the place where thou art.
I will go to the Valley of the Acacia. But this is what thou shalt do for
me. Thou shalt come and care for me, if evil befalls me, for I will
enchant my heart and place it on the top of the flower of the Acacia; and
if they cut the Acacia and my heart falls to the ground, thou shalt come
and seek it, and when thou hast found it thou shalt lay it in a vessel of
fresh water. Then I shall come to life again. But this is the sign that
evil has befallen me; the pot of beer in thine hand shall bubble.” So he
went away to the Valley of the Acacia, but his brother returned home with
dust on his head and slew his wife and cast her to the dogs.

(M108) For many days afterwards the younger brother dwelt alone in the
Valley of the Acacia. By day he hunted the beasts of the field, but at
evening he came and laid him down under the Acacia, on the top of whose
flower was his heart. And many days after that he built himself a house in
the Valley of the Acacia. But the gods were grieved for him; and the Sun
said to Khnumu, “Make a wife for Bata, that he may not dwell alone.” So
Khnumu made him a woman to dwell with him, who was perfect in her limbs
more than any woman on earth, for all the gods were in her. So she dwelt
with him. But one day a lock of her hair fell into the river and floated
down to the land of Egypt, to the house of Pharaoh’s washerwomen. The
fragrance of the lock perfumed Pharaoh’s raiment, and the washerwomen were
blamed, for it was said, “An odour of perfume in the garments of Pharaoh!”
So the heart of Pharaoh’s chief washerman was weary of the complaints that
were made every day, and he went to the wharf, and there in the water he
spied the lock of hair. He sent one down into the river to fetch it, and,
because it smelt sweetly, he took it to Pharaoh. Then Pharaoh’s magicians
were sent for and they said, “This lock of hair belongs to a daughter of
the Sun, who has in her the essence of all the gods. Let messengers go
forth to all foreign lands to seek her.” So the woman was brought from the
Valley of the Acacia with chariots and archers and much people, and all
the land of Egypt rejoiced at her coming, and Pharaoh loved her. But when
they asked her of her husband, she said to Pharaoh, “Let them cut down the
Acacia and let them destroy it.” So men were sent with tools to cut down
the Acacia. They came to it and cut the flower upon which was the heart of
Bata; and he fell down dead in that evil hour. But the next day, when the
earth grew light and the elder brother of Bata was entered into his house
and had sat down, they brought him a pot of beer and it bubbled, and they
gave him a jug of wine and it grew turbid. Then he took his staff and his
sandals and hied him to the Valley of the Acacia, and there he found his
younger brother lying dead in his house. So he sought for the heart of his
brother under the Acacia. For three years he sought in vain, but in the
fourth year he found it in the berry of the Acacia. So he threw the heart
into a cup of fresh water. And when it was night and the heart had sucked
in much water, Bata shook in all his limbs and revived. Then he drank the
cup of water in which his heart was, and his heart went into its place,
and he lived as before.(381)

(M109) In the _Arabian Nights_ we read how Seyf el-Mulook, after wandering
for four months over mountains and hills and deserts, came to a lofty
palace in which he found the lovely daughter of the King of India sitting
alone on a golden couch in a hall spread with silken carpets. She tells
him that she is held captive by a jinnee, who had swooped down on her and
carried her off while she was disporting herself with her female slaves in
a tank in the great garden of her father the king. Seyf el-Mulook then
offers to smite the jinnee with the sword and slay him. “But,” she
replied, “thou canst not slay him unless thou kill his soul.” “And in what
place,” said he, “is his soul?” She answered, “I asked him respecting it
many times; but he would not confess to me its place. It happened,
however, that I urged him, one day, and he was enraged against me, and
said to me, ‘How often wilt thou ask me respecting my soul? What is the
reason of thy question respecting my soul?’ So I answered him, ‘O Hátim,
there remaineth to me no one but thee, excepting God; and I, as long as I
live, would not cease to hold thy soul in my embrace; and if I do not take
care of thy soul, and put it in the midst of my eye, how can I live after
thee? If I knew thy soul, I would take care of it as of my right eye.’ And
thereupon he said to me, ‘When I was born, the astrologers declared that
the destruction of my soul would be effected by the hand of one of the
sons of the human kings. I therefore took my soul, and put it into the
crop of a sparrow, and I imprisoned the sparrow in a little box, and put
this into another small box, and this I put within seven other small
boxes, and I put these within seven chests, and the chests I put into a
coffer of marble within the verge of this circumambient ocean; for this
part is remote from the countries of mankind, and none of mankind can gain
access to it.’ ” But Seyf el-Mulook got possession of the sparrow and
strangled it, and the jinnee fell upon the ground a heap of black
ashes.(382) In a modern Arabian tale a king marries an ogress, who puts
out the eyes of the king’s forty wives. One of the blinded queens gives
birth to a son whom she names Mohammed the Prudent. But the ogress queen
hated him and compassed his death. So she sent him on an errand to the
house of her kinsfolk the ogres. In the house of the ogres he saw some
things hanging from the roof, and on asking a female slave what they were,
she said, “That is the bottle which contains the life of my lady the
queen, and the other bottle beside it contains the eyes of the queens whom
my mistress blinded.” A little afterwards he spied a beetle and rose to
kill it. “Don’t kill it,” cried the slave, “for that is my life.” But
Mohammed the Prudent watched the beetle till it entered a chink in the
wall; and when the female slave had fallen asleep, he killed the beetle in
its hole, and so the slave died. Then Mohammed took down the two bottles
and carried them home to his father’s palace. There he presented himself
before the ogress queen and said, “See, I have your life in my hand, but I
will not kill you till you have replaced the eyes which you took from the
forty queens.” The ogress did as she was bid, and then Mohammed the
Prudent said, “There, take your life.” But the bottle slipped from his
hand and fell, the life of the ogress escaped from it, and she died.(383)

(M110) A Basque story, which closely resembles some of the stories told
among Aryan peoples, relates how a monster—a Body-without-Soul—detains a
princess in captivity, and is questioned by her as to how he might be
slain. With some reluctance he tells her, “You must kill a terrible wolf
which is in the forest, and inside him is a fox, in the fox is a pigeon;
this pigeon has an egg in his head, and whoever should strike me on the
forehead with this egg would kill me.” The hero of the story, by name
Malbrouk, has learned, in the usual way, the art of turning himself at
will into a wolf, an ant, a hawk, or a dog, and on the strength of this
accomplishment he kills the animals, one after the other, and extracts the
precious egg from the pigeon’s head. When the wolf is killed, the monster
feels it and says despondently, “I do not know if anything is going to
happen to me. I am much afraid of it.” When the fox and the pigeon have
been killed, he cries that it is all over with him, that they have taken
the egg out of the pigeon, and that he knows not what is to become of him.
Finally the princess strikes the monster on the forehead with the egg, and
he falls a corpse.(384) In a Kabyle story an ogre declares that his fate
is far away in an egg, which is in a pigeon, which is in a camel, which is
in the sea. The hero procures the egg and crushes it between his hands,
and the ogre dies.(385) In a Magyar folk-tale, an old witch detains a
young prince called Ambrose in the bowels of the earth. At last she
confided to him that she kept a wild boar in a silken meadow, and if it
were killed, they would find a hare inside, and inside the hare a pigeon,
and inside the pigeon a small box, and inside the box one black and one
shining beetle: the shining beetle held her life, and the black one held
her power; if these two beetles died, then her life would come to an end
also. When the old hag went out, Ambrose killed the wild boar, and took
out the hare; from the hare he took the pigeon, from the pigeon the box,
and from the box the two beetles; he killed the black beetle, but kept the
shining one alive. So the witch’s power left her immediately, and when she
came home, she had to take to her bed. Having learned from her how to
escape from his prison to the upper air, Ambrose killed the shining
beetle, and the old hag’s spirit left her at once.(386) In another
Hungarian story the safety of the Dwarf-king resides in a golden
cockchafer, inside a golden cock, inside a golden sheep, inside a golden
stag, in the ninety-ninth island. The hero overcomes all these golden
animals and so recovers his bride, whom the Dwarf-king had carried
off.(387)

(M111) A Lapp story tells of a giant who slew a man and took away his
wife. When the man’s son grew up, he tried to rescue his mother and kill
the giant, but fire and sword were powerless to harm the monster; it
seemed as if he had no life in his body. “Dear mother,” at last enquired
the son, “don’t you know where the giant has hidden away his life?” The
mother did not know, but promised to ask. So one day, when the giant
chanced to be in a good humour, she asked him where he kept his life. He
said to her, “Out yonder on a burning sea is an island, in the island is a
barrel, in the barrel is a sheep, in the sheep is a hen, in the hen is an
egg, and in the egg is my life.” When the woman’s son heard this, he hired
a bear, a wolf, a hawk, and a diver-bird and set off in a boat to sail to
the island in the burning sea. He sat with the hawk and the diver-bird
under an iron tent in the middle of the boat, and he set the bear and the
wolf to row. That is why to this day the bear’s hair is dark brown and the
wolf has dark-brown spots; for as they sat at the oars without any screen
they were naturally scorched by the tossing tongues of flame on the
burning sea. However, they made their way over the fiery billows to the
island, and there they found the barrel. In a trice the bear had knocked
the bottom out of it with his claws, and forth sprang a sheep. But the
wolf soon pulled the sheep down and rent it in pieces. From out the sheep
flew a hen, but the hawk stooped on it and tore it with his talons. In the
hen was an egg, which dropped into the sea and sank; but the diver-bird
dived after it. Twice he dived after it in vain and came up to the surface
gasping and spluttering; but the third time he brought up the egg and
handed it to the young man. Great was the young man’s joy. At once he
kindled a great bonfire on the shore, threw the egg into it, and rowed
away back across the sea. On landing he went away straight to the giant’s
abode, and found the monster burning, just as he had left the egg burning
on the island. “Fool that I was,” lamented the dying giant, “to betray my
life to a wicked old woman,” and with that he snatched at an iron tube
through which in happier days he had been wont to suck the blood of his
human victims. But the woman was too subtle for him, for she had taken the
precaution of inserting one end of the tube in the glowing embers of the
hearth; and so, when the giant sucked hard at the other end, he imbibed
only fire and ashes. Thus he burned inside as well as outside, and when
the fire went out the giant’s life went out with it.(388)

(M112) A Samoyed story tells how seven warlocks killed a certain man’s
mother and carried off his sister, whom they kept to serve them. Every
night when they came home the seven warlocks used to take out their hearts
and place them in a dish which the woman hung on the tent-poles. But the
wife of the man whom they had wronged stole the hearts of the warlocks
while they slept, and took them to her husband. By break of day he went
with the hearts to the warlocks, and found them at the point of death.
They all begged for their hearts; but he threw six of their hearts to the
ground, and six of the warlocks died. The seventh and eldest warlock
begged hard for his heart and the man said, “You killed my mother. Make
her alive again, and I will give you back your heart.” The warlock said to
his wife, “Go to the place where the dead woman lies. You will find a bag
there. Bring it to me. The woman’s spirit is in the bag.” So his wife
brought the bag; and the warlock said to the man, “Go to your dead mother,
shake the bag and let the spirit breathe over her bones; so she will come
to life again.” The man did as he was bid, and his mother was restored to
life. Then he hurled the seventh heart to the ground, and the seventh
warlock died.(389) In a Kalmuck tale we read how a certain khan challenged
a wise man to shew his skill by stealing a precious stone on which the
khan’s life depended. The sage contrived to purloin the talisman while the
khan and his guards slept; but not content with this he gave a further
proof of his dexterity by bonneting the slumbering potentate with a
bladder. This was too much for the khan. Next morning he informed the sage
that he could overlook everything else, but that the indignity of being
bonneted with a bladder was more than he could stand; and he ordered his
facetious friend to instant execution. Pained at this exhibition of royal
ingratitude, the sage dashed to the ground the talisman which he still
held in his hand; and at the same instant blood flowed from the nostrils
of the khan, and he gave up the ghost.(390)

(M113) In a Tartar poem two heroes named Ak Molot and Bulat engage in
mortal combat. Ak Molot pierces his foe through and through with an arrow,
grapples with him, and dashes him to the ground, but all in vain, Bulat
could not die. At last when the combat has lasted three years, a friend of
Ak Molot sees a golden casket hanging by a white thread from the sky, and
bethinks him that perhaps this casket contains Bulat’s soul. So he shot
through the white thread with an arrow, and down fell the casket. He
opened it, and in the casket sat ten white birds, and one of the birds was
Bulat’s soul. Bulat wept when he saw that his soul was found in the
casket. But one after the other the birds were killed, and then Ak Molot
easily slew his foe.(391) In another Tartar poem, two brothers going to
fight two other brothers take out their souls and hide them in the form of
a white herb with six stalks in a deep pit. But one of their foes sees
them doing so and digs up their souls, which he puts into a golden ram’s
horn, and then sticks the ram’s horn in his quiver. The two warriors whose
souls have thus been stolen know that they have no chance of victory, and
accordingly make peace with their enemies.(392) In another Tartar poem a
terrible demon sets all the gods and heroes at defiance. At last a valiant
youth fights the demon, binds him hand and foot, and slices him with his
sword. But still the demon is not slain. So the youth asked him, “Tell me,
where is your soul hidden? For if your soul had been hidden in your body,
you must have been dead long ago.” The demon replied, “On the saddle of my
horse is a bag. In the bag is a serpent with twelve heads. In the serpent
is my soul. When you have killed the serpent, you have killed me also.” So
the youth took the saddle-bag from the horse and killed the twelve-headed
serpent, whereupon the demon expired.(393) In another Tartar poem a hero
called Kök Chan deposits with a maiden a golden ring, in which is half his
strength. Afterwards when Kök Chan is wrestling long with a hero and
cannot kill him, a woman drops into his mouth the ring which contains half
his strength. Thus inspired with fresh force he slays his enemy.(394)

(M114) In a Mongolian story the hero Joro gets the better of his enemy the
lama Tschoridong in the following way. The lama, who is an enchanter,
sends out his soul in the form of a wasp to sting Joro’s eyes. But Joro
catches the wasp in his hand, and by alternately shutting and opening his
hand he causes the lama alternately to lose and recover
consciousness.(395) In a Tartar poem two youths cut open the body of an
old witch and tear out her bowels, but all to no purpose, she still lives.
On being asked where her soul is, she answers that it is in the middle of
her shoe-sole in the form of a seven-headed speckled snake. So one of the
youths slices her shoe-sole with his sword, takes out the speckled snake,
and cuts off its seven heads. Then the witch dies.(396) Another Tartar
poem describes how the hero Kartaga grappled with the Swan-woman. Long
they wrestled. Moons waxed and waned and still they wrestled; years came
and went, and still the struggle went on. But the piebald horse and the
black horse knew that the Swan-woman’s soul was not in her. Under the
black earth flow nine seas; where the seas meet and form one, the sea
comes to the surface of the earth. At the mouth of the nine seas rises a
rock of copper; it rises to the surface of the ground, it rises up between
heaven and earth, this rock of copper. At the foot of the copper rock is a
black chest, in the black chest is a golden casket, and in the golden
casket is the soul of the Swan-woman. Seven little birds are the soul of
the Swan-woman; if the birds are killed the Swan-woman will die
straightway. So the horses ran to the foot of the copper rock, opened the
black chest, and brought back the golden casket. Then the piebald horse
turned himself into a bald-headed man, opened the golden casket, and cut
off the heads of the seven birds. So the Swan-woman died.(397) In a Tartar
story a chief called Tash Kan is asked where his soul is. He answers that
there are seven great poplars, and under the poplars a golden well; seven
_Maralen_ (?) come to drink the water of the well, and the belly of one of
them trails on the ground; in this _Maral_ is a golden box, in the golden
box is a silver box, in the silver box are seven quails, the head of one
of the quails is golden and its tail silver; that quail is Tash Kan’s
soul. The hero of the story gets possession of the seven quails and wrings
the necks of six of them. Then Tash Kan comes running and begs the hero to
let his soul go free. But the hero wrings the last quail’s neck, and Tash
Kan drops dead.(398) In another Tartar poem the hero, pursuing his sister
who has driven away his cattle, is warned to desist from the pursuit
because his sister has carried away his soul in a golden sword and a
golden arrow, and if he pursues her she will kill him by throwing the
golden sword or shooting the golden arrow at him.(399)

(M115) A modern Chinese story tells how an habitual criminal used to take
his soul out of his own body for the purpose of evading the righteous
punishment of his crimes. This bad man lived in Khien (Kwei-cheu), and the
sentences that had been passed on him formed a pile as high as a hill. The
mandarins had flogged him to death with sticks and flung his mangled
corpse into the river, but three days afterwards the scoundrel got his
soul back again, and on the fifth day he resumed his career of villainy as
if nothing had happened. The thing occurred again and again, till at last
it reached the ears of the Governor of the province, who flew into a
violent passion and proposed to the Governor-General to have the rascal
beheaded. And beheaded he was; but in three days the wretch was alive
again with no trace of decapitation about him except a slender red thread
round his neck. And now, like a giant refreshed, he began a fresh series
of enormities. He even went so far as to beat his own mother. This was
more than she could bear, and she brought the matter before the
magistrate. She produced in court a vase and said, “In this vase my
refractory son has hidden his soul. Whenever he was conscious of having
committed a serious crime, or a misdeed of the most heinous kind, he
remained at home, took his soul out of his body, purified it, and put it
in the vase. Then the authorities only punished or executed his body of
flesh and blood, and not his soul. With his soul, refined by a long
process, he then cured his freshly mutilated body, which thus became able
in three days to recommence in the old way. Now, however, his crimes have
reached a climax, for he has beaten me, an old woman, and I cannot bear
it. I pray you, smash this vase, and scatter his soul by fanning it away
with a windwheel; and if then you castigate his body anew, it is probable
that bad son of mine will really die.” The mandarin took the hint. He had
the rogue cudgelled to death, and when they examined the corpse they found
that decay had set in within ten days.(400)

(M116) The Khasis of Assam tell of a certain Kyllong, king of Madur, who
pursued his conquests on a remarkable principle. He needed few or no
soldiers, because he himself was a very strong man and nobody could kill
him permanently; they could, it is true, put him to death, but then he
came to life again immediately. The king of Synteng, who was much afraid
of him, once chopped him in pieces and threw the severed hands and feet
far away, thinking thus to get rid of him for good and all; but it was to
no purpose. The very next morning Kyllong came to life again and stalked
about as brisk as ever. So the king of Synteng was very anxious to learn
how his rival contrived thus to rise from the dead; and he hit on a plan
for worming out the secret. He chose the fairest girl of the whole
country, clad her in royal robes, put jewels of gold and silver upon her,
and said, “All these will I give thee and more besides, if thou canst
obtain for me King Kyllong’s secret, and canst inform me how he brings
himself to life again after being killed.” So he sent the girl to the
slave-market in King Kyllong’s country; and the king saw and loved her and
took her to wife. So she caressed him and coaxed him to tell her his
secret, and in a fatal hour he was beguiled into revealing it. He said,
“My life depends upon these things. I must bathe every day and must wash
my entrails. After that, I take my food, and there is no one on earth who
can kill me unless he obtains possession of my entrails. Thus my life
hangs only on my entrails.” His treacherous wife at once sent word to the
king of Synteng, who caused men to lie in wait while Kyllong was bathing.
As usual, Kyllong had laid his entrails on one side of the bathing-place,
while he disported himself in the water, intending afterwards to wash them
and replace them in his body. But before he could do so, one of the
liers-in-wait had seized the entrails and killed him. The entrails he cut
in pieces and gave to the dogs to eat. That was the end of King Kyllong.
He was never able to come to life again; his country was conquered, and
the members of the royal family were scattered far and wide. Seven
generations have passed since then.(401)

(M117) A Malay poem relates how once upon a time in the city of Indrapoora
there was a certain merchant who was rich and prosperous, but he had no
children. One day as he walked with his wife by the river they found a
baby girl, fair as an angel. So they adopted the child and called her
Bidasari. The merchant caused a golden fish to be made, and into this fish
he transferred the soul of his adopted daughter. Then he put the golden
fish in a golden box full of water, and hid it in a pond in the midst of
his garden. In time the girl grew to be a lovely woman. Now the King of
Indrapoora had a fair young queen, who lived in fear that the king might
take to himself a second wife. So, hearing of the charms of Bidasari, the
queen resolved to put her out of the way. She lured the girl to the palace
and tortured her cruelly; but Bidasari could not die, because her soul was
not in her. At last she could stand the torture no longer and said to the
queen, “If you wish me to die, you must bring the box which is in the pond
in my father’s garden.” So the box was brought and opened, and there was
the golden fish in the water. The girl said, “My soul is in that fish. In
the morning you must take the fish out of the water, and in the evening
you must put it back into the water. Do not let the fish lie about, but
bind it round your neck. If you do this, I shall soon die.” So the queen
took the fish out of the box and fastened it round her neck; and no sooner
had she done so, than Bidasari fell into a swoon. But in the evening, when
the fish was put back into the water, Bidasari came to herself again.
Seeing that she thus had the girl in her power, the queen sent her home to
her adopted parents. To save her from further persecution her parents
resolved to remove their daughter from the city. So in a lonely and
desolate spot they built a house and brought Bidasari thither. There she
dwelt alone, undergoing vicissitudes that corresponded with the
vicissitudes of the golden fish in which was her soul. All day long, while
the fish was out of the water, she remained unconscious; but in the
evening, when the fish was put into the water, she revived. One day the
king was out hunting, and coming to the house where Bidasari lay
unconscious, was smitten with her beauty. He tried to waken her, but in
vain. Next day, towards evening, he repeated his visit, but still found
her unconscious. However, when darkness fell, she came to herself and told
the king the secret of her life. So the king returned to the palace, took
the fish from the queen, and put it in water. Immediately Bidasari
revived, and the king took her to wife.(402)

(M118) Another story of an external soul comes from Nias, an island to the
west of Sumatra. Once on a time a chief was captured by his enemies, who
tried to put him to death but failed. Water would not drown him nor fire
burn him nor steel pierce him. At last his wife revealed the secret. On
his head he had a hair as hard as a copper wire; and with this wire his
life was bound up. So the hair was plucked out, and with it his spirit
fled.(403)

(M119) A Hausa story from Northern Nigeria closely resembles some of the
European tales which we have noticed; for it contains not only the
incident of the external soul, but also the incident of the helpful
animals, by whose assistance the hero is able to slay the Soulless King
and obtain possession of the kingdom. The story runs thus. A certain man
and his wife had four daughters born to them in succession, but every one
of the baby girls mysteriously disappeared on the day when she was to be
weaned; so the parents fell under the suspicion of having devoured them.
Last of all there was born to them a son, who to avoid accidents was left
to wean himself. One day, as he grew up, the son received a magic lotion
from an old woman, who told him to rub his eyes with it. He did so, and
immediately he saw a large house and entering it he found his eldest
sister married to a bull. She bade him welcome and so did her husband the
bull; and when he went away, the bull very kindly presented him with a
lock of his hair as a keepsake. In like manner the lad discovered his
other three sisters, who were living in wedlock with a ram, a dog, and a
hawk respectively. All of them welcomed him and from the ram, the dog, and
the hawk he received tokens of regard in the shape of hair or feathers.
Then he returned home and told his parents of his adventure and how he had
found his sisters alive and married. Next day he went to a far city, where
he made love to the Queen and persuaded her to plot with him against the
life of the King her husband. So she coaxed the King to shew his affection
for her by “taking his own life, and joining it to hers.” The unsuspecting
husband, as usual, fell into the trap set for him by his treacherous wife.
He confided to her the secret of his life. “My life,” said he, “is behind
the city, behind the city in a thicket. In this thicket there is a lake;
in the lake is a rock; in the rock is a gazelle; in the gazelle is a dove;
and in the dove is a small box.” The Queen divulged the secret to her
lover, who kindled a fire behind the city and threw into it the hair and
feathers which he had received from the friendly animals, his
brothers-in-law. Immediately the animals themselves appeared and readily
gave their help in the enterprise. The bull drank up the lake; the ram
broke up the rock; the dog caught the gazelle; the hawk captured the dove.
So the youth extracted the precious box from the dove and repaired to the
palace, where he found the King already dead. His Majesty had been ailing
from the moment when the young man left the city, and he grew steadily
worse with every fresh success of the adventurer who was to supplant him.
So the hero became King and married the false Queen; and his sisters’
husbands were changed from animals into men and received subordinate posts
in the government. The hero’s parents, too, came to live in the city over
which he reigned.(404)

(M120) A West African story from Southern Nigeria relates how a king kept
his soul in a little brown bird, which perched on a tall tree beside the
gate of the palace. The king’s life was so bound up with that of the bird
that whoever should kill the bird would simultaneously kill the king and
succeed to the kingdom. The secret was betrayed by the queen to her lover,
who shot the bird with an arrow and thereby slew the king and ascended the
vacant throne.(405) A tale told by the Ba-Ronga of South Africa sets forth
how the lives of a whole family were contained in one cat. When a girl of
the family, named Titishan, married a husband, she begged her parents to
let her take the precious cat with her to her new home. But they refused,
saying, “You know that our life is attached to it”; and they offered to
give her an antelope or even an elephant instead of it. But nothing would
satisfy her but the cat. So at last she carried it off with her and shut
it up in a place where nobody saw it; even her husband knew nothing about
it. One day, when she went to work in the fields, the cat escaped from its
place of concealment, entered the hut, put on the warlike trappings of the
husband, and danced and sang. Some children, attracted by the noise,
discovered the cat at its antics, and when they expressed their
astonishment, the animal only capered the more and insulted them besides.
So they went to the owner and said, “There is somebody dancing in your
house, and he insulted us.” “Hold your tongues,” said he, “I’ll soon put a
stop to your lies.” So he went and hid behind the door and peeped in, and
there sure enough was the cat prancing about and singing. He fired at it,
and the animal dropped down dead. At the same moment his wife fell to the
ground in the field where she was at work; said she, “I have been killed
at home.” But she had strength enough left to ask her husband to go with
her to her parents’ village, taking with him the dead cat wrapt up in a
mat. All her relatives assembled, and bitterly they reproached her for
having insisted on taking the animal with her to her husband’s village. As
soon as the mat was unrolled and they saw the dead cat, they all fell down
lifeless one after the other. So the Clan of the Cat was destroyed; and
the bereaved husband closed the gate of the village with a branch, and
returned home, and told his friends how in killing the cat he had killed
the whole clan, because their lives depended on the life of the cat. In
another Ronga story the lives of a whole clan are attached to a buffalo,
which a girl of the clan in like manner insists on taking with her.(406)

(M121) Ideas of the same sort meet us in stories told by the North
American Indians. Thus in one Indian tale the hero pounds his enemy to
pieces, but cannot kill him because his heart is not in his body. At last
the champion learns that his foe’s heart is in the sky, at the western
side of the noonday sun; so he reaches up, seizes the heart, and crushes
it, and straightway his enemy expires. In another Indian myth there
figures a personage Winter whose song brings frost and snow, but his heart
is hidden away at a distance. However, his foe finds the heart and burns
it, and so the Snow-maker perishes.(407) A Pawnee story relates how a
wounded warrior was carried off by bears, who healed him of his hurts.
When the Indian was about to return to his village, the old he-bear said
to him, “I shall look after you. I shall give you a part of myself. If I
am killed, you shall be killed. If I grow old, you shall be old.” And the
bear gave him a cap of bearskin, and at parting he put his arms round the
Indian and hugged him, and put his mouth against the man’s mouth and held
the man’s hands in his paws. The Indian who told the tale conjectured that
when the man died, the old bear died also.(408) The Navajoes tell of a
certain mythical being called “the Maiden that becomes a Bear,” who
learned the art of turning herself into a bear from the prairie wolf. She
was a great warrior and quite invulnerable; for when she went to war she
took out her vital organs and hid them, so that no one could kill her; and
when the battle was over she put the organs back in their places
again.(409) The Kwakiutl Indians of British Columbia tell of an ogress,
who could not be killed because her life was in a hemlock branch. A brave
boy met her in the woods, smashed her head with a stone, scattered her
brains, broke her bones, and threw them into the water. Then, thinking he
had disposed of the ogress, he went into her house. There he saw a woman
rooted to the floor, who warned him, saying, “Now do not stay long. I know
that you have tried to kill the ogress. It is the fourth time that
somebody has tried to kill her. She never dies; she has nearly come to
life. There in that covered hemlock branch is her life. Go there, and as
soon as you see her enter, shoot her life. Then she will be dead.” Hardly
had she finished speaking when sure enough in came the ogress, singing as
she walked:—


    “_I have the magical treasure,_
    _I have the supernatural power,_
    _I can return to life._”


Such was her song. But the boy shot at her life, and she fell dead to the
floor.(410)





CHAPTER XI. THE EXTERNAL SOUL IN FOLK-CUSTOM.




§ 1. The External Soul in Inanimate Things.


(M122) Thus the idea that the soul may be deposited for a longer or
shorter time in some place of security outside the body, or at all events
in the hair, is found in the popular tales of many races. It remains to
shew that the idea is not a mere figment devised to adorn a tale, but is a
real article of primitive faith, which has given rise to a corresponding
set of customs.

(M123) We have seen that in the tales the hero, as a preparation for
battle, sometimes removes his soul from his body, in order that his body
may be invulnerable and immortal in the combat. With a like intention the
savage removes his soul from his body on various occasions of real or
imaginary peril. Thus among the people of Minahassa in Celebes, when a
family moves into a new house, a priest collects the souls of the whole
family in a bag, and afterwards restores them to their owners, because the
moment of entering a new house is supposed to be fraught with supernatural
danger.(411) In Southern Celebes, when a woman is brought to bed, the
messenger who fetches the doctor or the midwife always carries with him
something made of iron, such as a chopping-knife, which he delivers to the
doctor. The doctor must keep the thing in his house till the confinement
is over, when he gives it back, receiving a fixed sum of money for doing
so. The chopping-knife, or whatever it is, represents the woman’s soul,
which at this critical time is believed to be safer out of her body than
in it. Hence the doctor must take great care of the object; for were it
lost, the woman’s soul would assuredly, they think, be lost with it.(412)
But in Celebes the convenience of occasionally depositing the soul in some
external object is apparently not limited to human beings. The Alfoors, or
Toradjas, who inhabit the central district of that island, and among whose
industries the working of iron occupies a foremost place, attribute to the
metal a soul which would be apt to desert its body under the blows of the
hammer, if some means were not found to detain it. Accordingly in every
smithy of Poso—for that is the name of the country of these people—you may
see hanging up a bundle of wooden instruments, such as chopping-knives,
swords, spear-heads, and so forth. This bundle goes by the name of
_lamoa_, which is the general word for “gods,” and in it the soul of the
iron that is being wrought in the smithy is, according to one account,
supposed to reside. “If we did not hang the _lamoa_ over the anvil,” they
say, “the iron would flow away and be unworkable,” on account of the
absence of the soul.(413) However, according to another interpretation
these wooden models are substitutes offered to the gods in room of the
iron, whose soul the covetous deities might otherwise abstract for their
own use, thus making the metal unmalleable.(414)

(M124) Among the Dyaks of Pinoeh, a district of South-Eastern Borneo, when
a child is born, a medicine-man is sent for, who conjures the soul of the
infant into half a coco-nut, which he thereupon covers with a cloth and
places on a square platter or charger suspended by cords from the roof.
This ceremony he repeats at every new moon for a year.(415) The intention
of the ceremony is not explained by the writer who describes it, but we
may conjecture that it is to place the soul of the child in a safer place
than its own frail little body. This conjecture is confirmed by the reason
assigned for a similar custom observed elsewhere in the Indian
Archipelago. In the Kei Islands, when there is a newly-born child in a
house, an empty coco-nut, split and spliced together again, may sometimes
be seen hanging beside a rough wooden image of an ancestor. The soul of
the infant is believed to be temporarily deposited in the coco-nut in
order that it may be safe from the attacks of evil spirits; but when the
child grows bigger and stronger, the soul will take up its permanent abode
in its own body. Similarly among the Esquimaux of Alaska, when a child is
sick, the medicine-man will sometimes extract its soul from its body and
place it for safe-keeping in an amulet, which for further security he
deposits in his own medicine-bag. (416) It seems probable that many
amulets have been similarly regarded as soul-boxes, that is, as safes in
which the souls of the owners are kept for greater security.(417) An old
Mang’anje woman in the West Shire district of British Central Africa used
to wear round her neck an ivory ornament, hollow, and about three inches
long, which she called her life or soul (_moyo wanga_). Naturally, she
would not part with it; a planter tried to buy it of her, but in
vain.(418) When Mr. James Macdonald was one day sitting in the house of a
Hlubi chief, awaiting the appearance of that great man, who was busy
decorating his person, a native pointed to a pair of magnificent ox-horns,
and said, “Ntame has his soul in these horns.” The horns were those of an
animal which had been sacrificed, and they were held sacred. A magician
had fastened them to the roof to protect the house and its inmates from
the thunder-bolt. “The idea,” adds Mr. Macdonald, “is in no way foreign to
South African thought. A man’s soul there may dwell in the roof of his
house, in a tree, by a spring of water, or on some mountain scaur.”(419)
Among the natives of the Gazelle Peninsula in New Britain there is a
secret society which goes by the name of Ingniet or Ingiet. On his
entrance into it every man receives a stone in the shape either of a human
being or of an animal, and henceforth his soul is believed to be knit up
in a manner with the stone. If it breaks, it is an evil omen for him; they
say that the thunder has struck the stone and that he who owns it will
soon die. If nevertheless the man survives the breaking of his soul-stone,
they say that it was not a proper soul-stone and he gets a new one
instead.(420) The emperor Romanus Lecapenus was once informed by an
astronomer that the life of Simeon, prince of Bulgaria, was bound up with
a certain column in Constantinople, so that if the capital of the column
were removed, Simeon would immediately die. The emperor took the hint and
removed the capital, and at the same hour, as the emperor learned by
enquiry, Simeon died of heart disease in Bulgaria.(421) The deified kings
of ancient Egypt appear to have enjoyed the privilege of depositing their
spiritual doubles or souls (_ka_) during their lifetime in a number of
portrait statues, properly fourteen for each king, which stood in the
chamber of adoration (_pa douaït_) of the temple and were revered as the
equivalents or representatives of the monarchs themselves.(422) Among the
Karens of Burma “the knife with which the navel string is cut is carefully
preserved for the child. The life of the child is supposed to be in some
way connected with it, for, if lost or destroyed, it is said the child
will not be long lived.”(423) Among the Shawnee Indians of North America
it once happened that an eminent man was favoured with a special
revelation by the Great Spirit. Wisely refusing to hide the sacred light
of revelation under a bushel, he generously communicated a few sparks of
the illumination to John Tanner, a white man who lived for many years as
an Indian among the Indians. “Henceforth,” said the inspired sage, “the
fire must never be suffered to go out in your lodge. Summer and winter,
day and night, in the storm, or when it is calm, you must remember that
the life in your body, and the fire in your lodge, are the same, and of
the same date. If you suffer your fire to be extinguished, at that moment
your life will be at its end.”(424)

(M125) Again, we have seen that in folk-tales a man’s soul or strength is
sometimes represented as bound up with his hair, and that when his hair is
cut off he dies or grows weak. So the natives of Amboyna used to think
that their strength was in their hair and would desert them if it were
shorn. A criminal under torture in a Dutch Court of that island persisted
in denying his guilt till his hair was cut off, when he immediately
confessed. One man, who was tried for murder, endured without flinching
the utmost ingenuity of his torturers till he saw the surgeon standing
with a pair of shears. On asking what this was for, and being told that it
was to cut his hair, he begged they would not do it, and made a clean
breast. In subsequent cases, when torture failed to wring a confession
from a prisoner, the Dutch authorities made a practice of cutting off his
hair.(425) In Ceram it is still believed that if young people have their
hair cut they will be weakened and enervated thereby.(426)

(M126) Here in Europe it used to be thought that the maleficent powers of
witches and wizards resided in their hair, and that nothing could make any
impression on these miscreants so long as they kept their hair on. Hence
in France it was customary to shave the whole bodies of persons charged
with sorcery before handing them over to the torturer. Millaeus witnessed
the torture of some persons at Toulouse, from whom no confession could be
wrung until they were stripped and completely shaven, when they readily
acknowledged the truth of the charge. A woman also, who apparently led a
pious life, was put to the torture on suspicion of witchcraft, and bore
her agonies with incredible constancy, until complete depilation drove her
to admit her guilt. The noted inquisitor Sprenger contented himself with
shaving the head of the suspected witch or wizard; but his more
thorough-going colleague Cumanus shaved the whole bodies of forty-one
women before committing them all to the flames. He had high authority for
this rigorous scrutiny, since Satan himself, in a sermon preached from the
pulpit of North Berwick church, comforted his many servants by assuring
them that no harm could befall them “sa lang as their hair wes on, and
sould newir latt ane teir fall fra thair ene.”(427) Similarly in Bastar, a
province of India, “if a man is adjudged guilty of witchcraft, he is
beaten by the crowd, his hair is shaved, the hair being supposed to
constitute his power of mischief, his front teeth are knocked out, in
order, it is said, to prevent him from muttering incantations.... Women
suspected of sorcery have to undergo the same ordeal; if found guilty, the
same punishment is awarded, and after being shaved, their hair is attached
to a tree in some public place.”(428) So among the Bhils of India, when a
woman was convicted of witchcraft and had been subjected to various forms
of persuasion, such as hanging head downwards from a tree and having
pepper put into her eyes, a lock of hair was cut from her head and buried
in the ground, “that the last link between her and her former powers of
mischief might be broken.”(429) In like manner among the Aztecs of Mexico,
when wizards and witches “had done their evil deeds, and the time came to
put an end to their detestable life, some one laid hold of them and
cropped the hair on the crown of their heads, which took from them all
their power of sorcery and enchantment, and then it was that by death they
put an end to their odious existence.”(430)




§ 2. The External Soul in Plants.


(M127) Further it has been shewn that in folk-tales the life of a person
is sometimes so bound up with the life of a plant that the withering of
the plant will immediately follow or be followed by the death of the
person.(431) Similarly among the natives of the Pennefather River in
Queensland, when a visiter has made himself very agreeable and taken his
departure, an effigy of him about three or four feet long is cut on some
soft tree, such as the _Canarium australasicum_, so as to face in the
direction taken by the popular stranger. Afterwards from observing the
state of the tree the natives infer the corresponding state of their
absent friend, whose illness or death are apparently supposed to be
portended by the fall of the leaves or of the tree.(432) In Uganda, when a
new royal enclosure with its numerous houses was built for a new king,
barkcloth trees used to be planted at the main entrance by priests of each
principal deity and offerings were laid under each tree for its particular
god. Thenceforth “the trees were carefully guarded and tended, because it
was believed that as they grew and flourished, so the king’s life and
power would increase.”(433) Among the M’Bengas in Western Africa, about
the Gaboon, when two children are born on the same day, the people plant
two trees of the same kind and dance round them. The life of each of the
children is believed to be bound up with the life of one of the trees; and
if the tree dies or is thrown down, they are sure that the child will soon
die.(434) In Sierra Leone also it is customary at the birth of a child to
plant a shoot of a _malep_-tree, and they think that the tree will grow
with the child and be its god. If a tree which has been thus planted
withers away, the people consult a sorcerer on the subject.(435) Among the
Wajagga of German East Africa, when a child is born, it is usual to plant
a cultivated plant of some sort behind the house. The plant is thenceforth
carefully tended, for they believe that were it to wither away the child
would die. When the navel-string drops from the infant, it is buried under
the plant. The species of birth-plant varies with the clan; members of one
clan, for example, plant a particular sort of banana, members of another
clan plant a sugar-cane, and so on.(436) Among the Swahili of East Africa,
when a child is born, the afterbirth and navel-string are buried in the
courtyard and a mark is made on the spot. Seven days afterwards, the hair
of the child is shaved and deposited, along with the clippings of its
nails, in the same place. Then over all these relics of the infant’s
person a coco-nut is planted. As the tree grows up from the nut, the child
likes to point it out to his playfellows and tell them, “This coco-nut
palm is my navel.” In planting the coco-nut the parents say, “May God
cause our child to grow up, that he or she may one day enjoy the coco-nut
milk of the tree which we plant here.”(437) Though it is not expressly
affirmed, we may perhaps assume that such a birth-tree is supposed to
stand in a sympathetic relation with the life of the person. In the
Cameroons, also, the life of a person is believed to be sympathetically
bound up with that of a tree.(438) The chief of Old Town in Calabar kept
his soul in a sacred grove near a spring of water. When some Europeans, in
frolic or ignorance, cut down part of the grove, the spirit was most
indignant and threatened the perpetrators of the deed, according to the
king, with all manner of evil.(439) Among the Fans of the French Congo,
when a chief’s son is born, the remains of the navel-string are buried
under a sacred fig-tree, and “thenceforth great importance is attached to
the growth of the tree; it is strictly forbidden to touch it. Any attempt
on the tree would be considered as an attack on the human being
himself.”(440) Among the Boloki of the Upper Congo a family has a plant
with red leaves (called _nkungu_) for its totem. When a woman of the
family is with child for the first time, one of the totemic plants is
planted near the hearth outside the house and is never destroyed,
otherwise it is believed that the child would be born thin and weak and
would remain puny and sickly. “The healthy life of the children and family
is bound up with the healthiness and life of the totem tree as respected
and preserved by the family.”(441) Among the Baganda of Central Africa a
child’s afterbirth was called the second child and was believed to be
animated by a spirit, which at once became a ghost. The afterbirth was
usually buried at the root of a banana tree, and afterwards the tree was
carefully guarded by old women, who prevented any one from going near it;
they tied ropes of fibre from tree to tree to isolate it, and all the
child’s excretions were thrown into this enclosure. When the fruit
ripened, it was cut by the old woman in charge. The reason for guarding
the tree thus carefully was a belief that if any stranger were to eat of
the fruit of the tree or to drink beer brewed from it, he would carry off
with him the ghost of the child’s afterbirth, which had been buried at the
root of the banana-tree, and the living child would then die in order to
follow its twin ghost. Whereas a grandparent of the child, by eating the
fruit or drinking the beer, averted this catastrophe and ensured the
health of the child.(442) Among the Wakondyo, at the north-western corner
of Lake Albert Nyanza, it is customary to bury the afterbirth at the foot
of a young banana-tree, and the fruit of this particular tree may be eaten
by no one but the woman who assisted at the birth.(443) The reason for the
custom is not mentioned, but probably, as among the Baganda, the life of
the child is supposed to be bound up with the life of the tree, since the
afterbirth, regarded as a spiritual double of the infant, has been buried
at the root of the tree.

(M128) Some of the Papuans unite the life of a new-born child
sympathetically with that of a tree by driving a pebble into the bark of
the tree. This is supposed to give them complete mastery over the child’s
life; if the tree is cut down, the child will die.(444) After a birth the
Maoris used to bury the navel-string in a sacred place and plant a young
sapling over it. As the tree grew, it was a _tohu oranga_ or sign of life
for the child; if it flourished, the child would prosper; if it withered
and died, the parents augured the worst for their child.(445) In the
Chatham Islands, when the child of a leading man received its name, it was
customary to plant a tree, “the growth of which was to be as the growth of
the child,” and during the planting priests chanted a spell.(446) In some
parts of Fiji the navel-string of a male child is planted together with a
coco-nut or the slip of a breadfruit-tree, and the child’s life is
supposed to be intimately connected with that of the tree.(447) With
certain Malayo-Siamese families of the Patani States it is customary to
bury the afterbirth under a banana-tree, and the condition of the tree is
afterwards regarded as ominous of the child’s fate for good or evil.(448)
In Southern Celebes, when a child is born, a coco-nut is planted and
watered with the water in which the afterbirth and navel-string have been
washed. As it grows up, the tree is called the “contemporary” of the
child.(449) So in Bali a coco-palm is planted at the birth of a child. It
is believed to grow up equally with the child, and is called its
“life-plant.”(450) On certain occasions the Dyaks of Borneo plant a
palm-tree, which is believed to be a complete index of their fate. If it
flourishes, they reckon on good fortune; but if it withers or dies, they
expect misfortune.(451) Amongst the Dyaks of Landak and Tajan, districts
of Dutch Borneo, it is customary to plant a fruit-tree for a child, and
henceforth in the popular belief the fate of the child is bound up with
that of the tree. If the tree shoots up rapidly, it will go well with the
child; but if the tree is dwarfed or shrivelled, nothing but misfortune
can be expected for its human counterpart.(452) According to another
account, at the naming of children and certain other festivals the Dyaks
are wont to set a _sawang_-plant, roots and all, before a priestess; and
when the festival is over, the plant is replaced in the ground. Such a
plant becomes thenceforth a sort of prophetic index for the person in
whose honour the festival was held. If the plant thrives, the man will be
fortunate; if it fades or perishes, some evil will befall him.(453) The
Dyaks also believe that at the birth of every person on earth a flower
grows up in the spirit world and leads a life parallel to his. If the
flower flourishes, the man enjoys good health, but if it droops, so does
he. Hence when he has dreamed bad dreams or has felt unwell for several
days, he infers that his flower in the other world is neglected or sickly,
and accordingly he employs a medicine-man to tend the precious plant, weed
the soil, and sweep it up, in order that the earthly and unearthly life
may prosper once more.(454)

(M129) It is said that there are still families in Russia, Germany,
England, France, and Italy who are accustomed to plant a tree at the birth
of a child. The tree, it is hoped, will grow with the child, and it is
tended with special care.(455) The custom is still pretty general in the
canton of Aargau in Switzerland; an apple-tree is planted for a boy and a
pear-tree for a girl, and the people think that the child will flourish or
dwindle with the tree.(456) In Mecklenburg the afterbirth is thrown out at
the foot of a young tree, and the child is then believed to grow with the
tree.(457) In Bosnia, when the children of a family have died one after
the other, the hair of the next child is cut with some ceremony by a
stranger, and the mother carries the shorn tresses into the garden, where
she ties them to a fine young tree, in order that her child may grow and
flourish like the tree.(458) At Muskau, in Lausitz, it used to be
customary for bride and bridegroom on the morning of their wedding-day to
plant a pair of young oaks side by side, and as each of the trees
flourished or withered, so the good luck of the person who planted it was
believed to wax or wane.(459) On a promontory in Lake Keitele, in Finland,
there used to stand an old fir-tree, which according to tradition had been
planted by the first colonists to serve as a symbol or token of their
fortune. First-fruits of the harvest used to be offered to the tree before
any one would taste of the new crop; and whenever a branch fell, it was
deemed a sign that some one would die. More and more the crown of the tree
withered away, and in the same proportion the family whose ancestors had
planted the fir dwindled away, till only one old woman was left. At last
the tree fell, and soon afterwards the old woman departed this life.(460)
When Lord Byron first visited his ancestral estate of Newstead “he
planted, it seems, a young oak in some part of the grounds, and had an
idea that as _it_ flourished so should _he_.”(461) On a day when the cloud
that settled on the later years of Sir Walter Scott lifted a little, and
he heard that _Woodstock_ had sold for over eight thousand pounds, he
wrote in his journal: “I have a curious fancy; I will go set two or three
acorns, and judge by their success in growing whether I shall succeed in
clearing my way or not.”(462) Near the Castle of Dalhousie, not far from
Edinburgh, there grows an oak-tree, called the Edgewell Tree, which is
popularly believed to be linked to the fate of the family by a mysterious
tie; for they say that when one of the family dies, or is about to die, a
branch falls from the Edgewell Tree. Thus, on seeing a great bough drop
from the tree on a quiet, still day in July 1874, an old forester
exclaimed, “The laird’s deid noo!” and soon after news came that Fox
Maule, eleventh Earl of Dalhousie, was dead.(463) At Howth Castle in
Ireland there is an old tree with which the fortunes of the St. Lawrence
family are supposed to be connected. The branches of the tree are propped
on strong supports, for tradition runs that when the tree falls the direct
line of the Earls of Howth will become extinct.(464) On the old road from
Hanover to Osnabrück, at the village of Oster-Kappeln, there used to stand
an ancient oak, which put out its last green shoot in the year 1849. The
tree was conjecturally supposed to be contemporary with the Guelphs; and
in the year 1866, so fatal for the house of Hanover, on a calm summer
afternoon, without any visible cause, the veteran suddenly fell with a
crash and lay stretched across the highroad. The peasants regarded its
fall as an ill omen for the reigning family, and when King George V. heard
of it he gave orders that the giant trunk should be set up again, and it
was done with much trouble and at great expense, the stump being supported
in position by iron chains clamped to the neighbouring trees. But the
king’s efforts to prop the falling fortunes of his house were vain; a few
months after the fall of the oak Hanover formed part of the Prussian
monarchy.(465)

(M130) In the midst of the “Forbidden City” at Peking there is a tiny
private garden, where the emperors of the now fallen Manchu dynasty used
to take the air and refresh themselves after the cares of state. In
accordance with Chinese taste the garden is a labyrinth of artificial
rockeries, waterfalls, grottoes, and kiosks, in which everything is as
unlike nature as art can make it. The trees in particular (_Arbor vitae_),
the principal ornament of the garden, exhibit the last refinement of the
gardener’s skill, being clipped and distorted into a variety of grotesque
shapes. Only one of the trees remained intact and had been spared these
deformations for centuries. Far from being stunted by the axe or the
shears, the tree was carefully tended and encouraged to shoot up to its
full height. “It was the ‘Life-tree of the Dynasty,’ and according to
legend the prosperity or fall of the present dynasty went hand in hand
with the welfare or death of the tree. Certainly, if we accept the
tradition, the days of the present reigning house must be numbered, for
all the care and attention lavished on the tree have been for some years
in vain. A glance at our illustration shews the tree as it still surpasses
all its fellows in height and size; but it owes its pre-eminence only to
the many artificial props which hold it up. In reality the ‘Life-tree of
the Dynasty’ is dying, and might fall over night, if one of its artificial
props were suddenly to give way. For the superstitious Chinese—and
superstitious they certainly are—it is a very, very evil omen.”(466) Some
twelve years have passed since this passage was written, and in the
interval the omen has been fulfilled—the Manchu dynasty has fallen. We may
conjecture that the old tree in the quaint old garden has fallen too. So
vain are all human efforts to arrest the decay of royal houses by
underpropping trees on which nature herself has passed a sentence of
death.

(M131) At Rome in the ancient sanctuary of Quirinus there grew two old
myrtle-trees, one named the Patrician and the other the Plebeian. For many
years, so long as the patricians were in the ascendant, their myrtle-tree
flourished and spread its branches abroad, while the myrtle of the
plebeians was shrivelled and shrunken; but from the time of the Marsian
war, when the power of the nobles declined, their myrtle in like manner
drooped and withered, whereas that of the popular party held up its head
and grew strong.(467) Thrice when Vespasia was with child, an old oak in
the garden of the Flavian family near Rome suddenly put forth branches.
The first branch was puny and soon withered away, and the girl who was
born accordingly died within the year; the second branch was long and
sturdy; and the third was like a tree. So on the third occasion the happy
father reported to his mother that a future emperor was born to her as a
grandchild. The old lady only laughed to think that at her age she should
keep her wits about her, while her son had lost his; yet the omen of the
oak came true, for the grandson was afterwards the emperor Vespasian.(468)

(M132) In England children are sometimes passed through a cleft ash-tree
as a cure for rupture or rickets, and thenceforward a sympathetic
connexion is supposed to exist between them and the tree. An ash-tree
which had been used for this purpose grew at the edge of Shirley Heath, on
the road from Hockly House to Birmingham. “Thomas Chillingworth, son of
the owner of an adjoining farm, now about thirty-four, was, when an infant
of a year old, passed through a similar tree, now perfectly sound, which
he preserves with so much care that he will not suffer a single branch to
be touched, for it is believed the life of the patient depends on the life
of the tree, and the moment that it is cut down, be the patient ever so
distant, the rupture returns, and a mortification ensues, and terminates
in death, as was the case in a man driving a waggon on the very road in
question.” “It is not uncommon, however,” adds the writer, “for persons to
survive for a time the felling of the tree.”(469) The ordinary mode of
effecting the cure is to split a young ash-sapling longitudinally for a
few feet and pass the child, naked, either three times or three times
three through the fissure at sunrise. In the West of England it is said
that the passage should be “against the sun.” As soon as the ceremony has
been performed, the tree is bound tightly up and the fissure plastered
over with mud or clay. The belief is that just as the cleft in the tree
closes up, so the rupture in the child’s body will be healed; but that if
the rift in the tree remains open, the rupture in the child will remain
too, and if the tree were to die, the death of the child would surely
follow.(470)

(M133) Down to the second half of the nineteenth century the remedy was
still in common use at Fittleworth and many other places in Sussex. The
account of the Sussex practice and belief is notable because it brings out
very clearly the sympathetic relation supposed to exist between the
ruptured child and the tree through which it has been passed. We are told
that the patient “must be passed nine times every morning on nine
successive days at sunrise through a cleft in a sapling ash-tree, which
has been so far given up by the owner of it to the parents of the child,
as that there is an understanding it shall not be cut down during the life
of the infant who is to be passed through it. The sapling must be sound at
heart, and the cleft must be made with an axe. The child on being carried
to the tree must be attended by nine persons, each of whom must pass it
through the cleft from west to east. On the ninth morning the solemn
ceremony is concluded by binding the tree lightly with a cord, and it is
supposed that as the cleft closes the health of the child will improve. In
the neighbourhood of Petworth some cleft ash-trees may be seen, through
which children have very recently been passed. I may add, that only a few
weeks since, a person who had lately purchased an ash-tree standing in
this parish, intending to cut it down, was told by the father of a child,
who had some time before been passed through it, that the infirmity would
be sure to return upon his son if it were felled. Whereupon the good man
said, he knew that such would be the case; and therefore he would not fell
it for the world.”(471)

(M134) A similar cure for various diseases, but especially for rupture and
rickets, has been commonly practised in other parts of Europe, as Germany,
France, Denmark, and Sweden; but in these countries the tree employed for
the purpose is usually not an ash but an oak; sometimes a willow-tree is
allowed or even prescribed instead. With these exceptions the practice and
the belief are nearly the same on the Continent as in England: a young oak
is split longitudinally and the two sides held forcibly apart while the
sick child is passed through the cleft; then the opening in the tree is
closed, and bound up, and it is believed that as the cleft in the tree
heals by the parts growing together again, so the rupture in the child
will be simultaneously cured. It is often laid down that the ceremony must
be performed in the strictest silence; sometimes the time prescribed is
before sunrise, and sometimes the child must be passed thrice through the
cleft.(472) In Oldenburg and Mecklenburg they say that the cure should be
performed on St. John’s Eve (Midsummer Eve) by three men named John, who
assist each other in holding the split oak-sapling open and passing the
child through it.(473) Some people, however, prefer Good Friday or
Christmas Eve as the season for the performance of the ceremony.(474) In
Denmark copper coins are laid as an offering at the foot of the tree
through which sick persons have been passed; and threads, ribbons, or
bandages which have been worn by the sufferers are tied to a branch of the
tree.(475) In the Greek island of Ceos, when a child is sickly, the
parents carry it out into the country “and the father selects a young oak;
this they split up from the root, then the father is assisted by another
man in holding the tree open whilst the mother passes the child three
times through, and then they bind up the tree well, cover it all over with
manure, and carefully water it for forty days. In the same fashion they
bind up the child for a like period, and after the lapse of this time they
expect that it will be quite well.”(476)

(M135) In Mecklenburg, as in England, the sympathetic relation thus
established between the tree and the child is so close that if the tree is
cut down the child will die.(477) In the island of Rügen people believe
that when a person who has been thus cured of rupture dies, his soul
passes into the same oak-tree through which his body was passed in his
youth.(478) Thus it seems that in ridding himself of the disease the
sufferer is supposed to transfer a certain vital part of his person to the
tree so that it is impossible to injure the tree without at the same time
injuring the man; and in Rügen this partial union is thought to be
completed by the transmigration of the man’s soul at death into the tree.
Apparently the disease is conceived as something physical, which clings to
the patient but can be stripped off him and left behind on the farther
side of the narrow aperture through which he has forced his way; when the
aperture is closed by the natural growth of the tree, the door is as it
were shut against the disease, which is then unable to pursue and overtake
the sufferer. Hence the idea at the root of the custom is not so much that
the patient has transferred his ailment to the tree, as that the tree
forms an impervious barrier between him and the malady which had hitherto
afflicted him. This interpretation is confirmed by the following
parallels.

(M136) In those parts of Armenia which are covered with forests, many
great and ancient trees are revered as sacred and receive marks of homage.
The people burn lights before them, fumigate them with incense, sacrifice
cocks and wethers to them, and creep through holes in their trunks or push
lean and sickly children through them “in order to put a stop to the
influence of evil spirits.”(479) Apparently, they think that evil spirits
cannot creep through the cleft in the holy tree, and therefore that the
sick who have effected the passage are safe from their demoniacal
pursuers. The same conception of a fissure in a tree as an obstacle placed
in the path of pursuing spirits meets us in a number of savage customs.
Thus in the island of Nias, when a man is in training for the priesthood,
he has to be introduced to the various spirits between whom and mankind it
will be his office to mediate. A priest takes him to an open window, and
while the drums are beating points out to him the great spirit in the sun
who calls away men to himself through death; for it is needful that the
future priest should know him from whose grasp he will often be expected
to wrest the sick and dying. In the evening twilight he is led to the
graves and shewn the envious spirits of the dead, who also are ever
drawing away the living to their own shadowy world. Next day he is
conducted to a river and shewn the spirit of the waters; and finally they
take him up to a mountain and exhibit to him the spirits of the mountains,
who have diverse shapes, some appearing like swine, others like buffaloes,
others like goats, and others again like men with long hair on their
bodies. When he has seen all this, his education is complete, but on his
return from the mountain the new priest may not at once enter his own
house. For the people think that, were he to do so, the dangerous spirits
by whom he is still environed would stay in the house and visit both the
family and the pigs with sickness. Accordingly he betakes himself to other
villages and passes several nights there, hoping that the spirits will
leave him and settle on the friends who receive him into their houses; but
naturally he does not reveal the intention of his visits to his hosts.
Lastly, before he enters his own dwelling, he looks out for some young
tree by the way, splits it down the middle, and then creeps through the
fissure, in the belief that any spirit which may still be clinging to him
will thus be left sticking to the tree.(480) Again, among the Bilqula or
Bella Coola Indians of British Columbia “the bed of a mourner must be
protected against the ghost of the deceased. His male relatives stick a
thorn-bush into the ground at each corner of their beds. After four days
these are thrown into the water. Mourners must rise early and go into the
woods, where they stick four thorn-bushes into the ground, at the corners
of a square, in which they cleanse themselves by rubbing their bodies with
cedar branches. They also swim in ponds. After swimming they cleave four
small trees and creep through the clefts, following the course of the sun.
This they do on four subsequent mornings, cleaving new trees every day.
Mourners cut their hair short. The hair that has been cut off is burnt. If
they should not observe these regulations, it is believed that they would
dream of the deceased.”(481) To the savage, who fails to distinguish the
visions of sleep from the appearances of waking life, the apparition of a
dead man in a dream is equivalent to the actual presence of the ghost; and
accordingly he seeks to keep off the spiritual intruder, just as he might
a creature of flesh and blood, by fencing his bed with thorn-bushes.
Similarly the practice of creeping through four cleft trees is clearly an
attempt to shake off the clinging ghost and leave it adhering to the
trees, just as in Nias the future priest hopes to rid himself in like
manner of the dangerous spirits who have dogged his steps from the
mountains and the graves.

(M137) This interpretation of the custom is strongly confirmed by a
funeral ceremony which Dr. Charles Hose witnessed at the chief village of
the Madangs, a tribe of Kayans who occupy a hitherto unexplored district
in the heart of Borneo. “Just across the river from where we were
sitting,” says Dr. Hose, “was the graveyard, and there I witnessed a
funeral procession as the day was drawing to a close. The coffin, which
was a wooden box made from a tree-trunk, was decorated with red and black
patterns in circles, with two small wooden figures of men placed at either
end; it was lashed with rattans to a long pole, and by this means was
lifted to the shoulders of the bearers, who numbered thirteen in all, and
who then carried it to the burying-ground. After the mourners had all
passed over to the graveyard, a man quickly cut a couple of small sticks,
each five feet long and about an inch in diameter. One of these he split
almost the whole way down, and forced the unsplit end into the ground,
when the upper part opened like a V, leaving sufficient room for each
person to pass through. He next split the top of the other stick, and,
placing another short stick in the cleft, made a cross, which he also
forced into the ground. The funeral procession climbed the mound on which
the cemetery was situated, passing through the V of the cleft stick in
single file. As soon as the coffin had been placed on the stage erected
for the purpose, the people commenced their return, following on one
another’s heels as quickly as possible, each spitting out the words, ‘_Pit
balli krat balli jat tesip bertatip!_’ (‘Keep back, and close out all
things evil, and sickness’) as they passed through the V-shaped stick. The
whole party having left the graveyard, the gate was closed by the simple
process of tying the cleft ends of the stick together, and a few words
were then said to the cross-stick, which they call _ngring_, or the wall
that separates the living from the dead. All who had taken part in the
ceremony then went and bathed before returning to their homes, rubbing
their skins with rough pebbles, the old Mosaic idea of the uncleanness of
the dead, as mentioned in Numbers (chap. xix.), evidently finding a place
among their religious beliefs. It is apparently a great relief to their
minds to think that they can shut out the spirit of the deceased. They
believe that the spirit of the dead is not aware that life has left the
body until a short time after the coffin has been taken to the graveyard,
and then not until the spirit has had leisure to notice the clothes,
weapons, and other articles belonging to its earthly estate, which are
placed with the coffin. But before this takes place the gate has been
closed.”(482)

(M138) Here the words uttered by the mourners in passing through the
cloven stick shew clearly that they believe the stick to act as a barrier
or fence, on the further side of which they leave behind the ghost or
other dangerous spirit whose successful pursuit might entail sickness and
death on the survivors. Thus the passage of these Madang mourners through
the cleft stick is strictly analogous to the passage of ruptured English
children through a cleft ash-tree. Both are simply ways of leaving an evil
thing behind. Similarly the subsequent binding up of the cloven stick in
Borneo is analogous to the binding up of the cloven ash-tree in England.
Both are ways of barricading the road against the evil which is dogging
your steps; having passed through the doorway you slam the door in the
face of your pursuer. Yet it seems probable that the intention of binding
up the cleft in a tree through which a ruptured patient has been passed is
not merely that of shutting the door on the malady conceived as a personal
being; combined with this idea is perhaps the notion that in virtue of the
law of magical homoeopathy the rupture in the body of the sufferer will
close up exactly in the same measure as the cleft in the tree closes up
through the force of bandages and of natural growth. That this shade of
meaning attaches to the custom is rendered probable by a comparison of an
ancient Roman cure for dislocation, which has been preserved for us by the
grave authority of the elder Cato. He recommended that a green reed, four
or five feet long, should be taken, split down the middle, and held by two
men to the dislocated bones while a curious and now unintelligible spell
was recited; then, when the spell had been recited and the aperture in the
reed had closed, the reed was to be tied to the dislocated limb, and a
perfect cure might be expected. Apparently it was supposed that just as
the two sides of the split reed came together and coalesced after being
held apart, so the dislocated bones would come together and fit into their
proper places.(483)

(M139) But the usual idea in passing through a narrow aperture as a cure
or preventive of evil would seem to be simply that of giving the slip to a
dangerous pursuer. With this intention, doubtless, the savage Thays of
Tonquin repair after a burial to the banks of a stream and there creep
through a triangle formed by leaning two reeds against each other, while
the sorcerer souses them with dirty water. All the relations of the
deceased must wash their garments in the stream before they return home,
and they may not set foot in the house till they have shorn their hair at
the foot of the ladder. Afterwards the sorcerer comes and sprinkles the
whole house with water for the purpose of expelling evil spirits.(484)
Here again we cannot doubt that the creeping through the triangle of reeds
is intended to rid the mourners of the troublesome ghost. So when the
Kamtchatkans had disposed of a corpse after their usual fashion by
throwing it to the dogs to be devoured, they purified themselves as
follows. They went into the forest and cut various roots which they bent
into rings, and through these rings they crept twice. Afterwards they
carried the rings back to the forest and flung them away westward. The
Koryaks, a people of the same region, burn their dead and hold a festival
in honour of the departed a year after the death. At this festival, which
takes place on the spot where the corpse was burned, or, if that is too
far off, on a neighbouring height, they sacrifice two young reindeer which
have never been in harness, and the sorcerer sticks a great many reindeer
horns in the earth, believing that thereby he is dispatching a whole herd
of these animals to their deceased friend in the other world. Then they
all hasten home, and purify themselves by passing between two poles
planted in the ground, while the sorcerer strikes them with a stick and
adjures death not to carry them off.(485) The Tokoelawi in the interior of
Central Celebes hold a great sacrificial festival on the eighth day after
the death of a man or the ninth day after the death of a woman. When the
guests return homewards after the festival they pass under two poles
placed in a slanting direction against each other, and they may not look
round at the house where the death occurred. “In this way they take a
final leave of the soul of the deceased. Afterwards no more sacrifices are
offered to the soul.”(486) Among the Toboengkoe, another tribe in the
interior of Central Celebes, when a man buries his wife, he goes to the
grave by a different road from that along which the corpse is carried; and
on certain days afterwards he bathes, and on returning from the bath must
pass through a teepee-shaped erection, which is formed by splitting a pole
up the middle and separating the two split pieces except at the top. “This
he must do in order that his second wife, if he has one, may not soon
die.”(487) Here the notion probably is that the jealous ghost of the dead
wife seeks to avenge herself on her living rival by carrying off her soul
with her to deadland. Hence to prevent this catastrophe the husband tries
to evade the ghost, first by going to the grave along a different path,
and second by passing under a cleft stick, through which as usual the
spirit cannot follow him.

(M140) In the light of the foregoing customs, as well as of a multitude of
ceremonies observed for a similar purpose in all parts of the world,(488)
we may safely assume that when people creep through rings after a death or
pass between poles after a sacrifice to the dead, their intention simply
is to interpose a barrier between themselves and the ghost; they make
their way through a narrow pass or aperture through which they hope that
the ghost will not be able to follow them. To put it otherwise, they
conceive that the spirit of the dead is sticking to them like a burr, and
that like a burr it may be rubbed or scraped off and left adhering to the
sides of the opening through which they have squeezed themselves.

(M141) Similarly, when a pestilence is raging among the Koryaks, they kill
a dog, wind its guts about two poles, and pass between the poles,(489)
doubtless for the sake of giving the slip to the demon of the plague in
the same way that they give the slip to the ghost. When the Kayans of
Borneo have been dogged by an evil spirit on a journey and are nearing
their destination, they fashion a small archway of boughs, light a fire
under it, and pass in single file under the archway and over the fire,
spitting into the fire as they pass. By this ceremony, we are told, “they
thoroughly exorcise the evil spirits and emerge on the other side free
from all baleful influences.”(490) Here, to make assurance doubly sure, a
fire as well as an archway is interposed between the travellers and the
dreadful beings who are walking unseen behind. To crawl under a bramble
which has formed an arch by sending down a second root into the ground, is
an English and Welsh cure for whooping-cough, rheumatism, boils, and other
complaints. In some parts of the west of England they say that to get rid
of boils the thing to do is to crawl through such a natural arch nine
times against the sun; but in Devonshire the patient should creep through
the arch thrice with the sun, that is from east to west. When a child is
passed through it for whooping-cough, the operators ought to say:


    “_In bramble, out cough,_
    _Here I leave the whooping-cough._”(491)


In Perigord and other parts of France the same cure is employed for
boils.(492) In Bulgaria, when a person suffers from a congenital malady
such as scrofula, a popular cure is to take him to a neighbouring village
and there make him creep naked thrice through an arch, which is formed by
inserting the lower ends of two vine branches in the ground and joining
their upper ends together. When he has done so, he hangs his clothes on a
tree, and dons other garments. On his way home the patient must also crawl
under a ploughshare, which is held high enough to let him pass.(493)
Further, when whooping-cough is prevalent in a Bulgarian village, an old
woman will scrape the earth from under the root of a willow-tree. Then all
the children of the village creep through the opening thus made, and a
thread from the garment of each of them is hung on the willow. Adults
sometimes go through the same ceremony after recovering from a dangerous
illness.(494) Similarly, when sickness is rife among some of the villages
to the east of Lake Nyassa, the inhabitants crawl through an arch formed
by bending a wand and inserting the two ends in the ground. By way of
further precaution they wash themselves on the spot with medicine and
water, and then bury the medicine and the evil influence together in the
earth. The same ceremony is resorted to as a means of keeping off evil
spirits, wild beasts, and enemies.(495)

(M142) In Uganda “sometimes a medicine-man directed a sick man to provide
an animal, promising that he would come and transfer the sickness to the
animal. The medicine-man would then select a plantain-tree near the house,
kill the animal by it, and anoint the sick man with its blood, on his
forehead, on each side of his chest, and on his legs above the knees. The
plantain-tree selected had to be one that was about to bear fruit, and the
medicine-man would split the stem from near the top to near the bottom,
leaving a few inches not split both at the top and at the bottom; the
split stem would be held open so that the sick man could step through it,
and in doing so he would leave his clothing at the plantain-tree, and
would run into the house without looking back. When he entered the house,
new clothes would be given him to wear. The plantain, the clothing, and
meat would be carried away by the medicine-man, who would deposit the
plantain-tree on waste land, but would take the meat and clothing for
himself. Sometimes the medicine-man would kill the animal near the hut,
lay a stout stick across the threshold, and narrow the doorway by
partially filling it with branches of trees; he would then put some of the
blood on either side of the narrow entrance, and some on the stick across
the threshold, and would also anoint with it the sick man, who would be
taken outside for the purpose. The patient would then re-enter the house,
letting his clothing fall off, as he passed through the doorway. The
medicine-man would carry away the branches, the stick, the clothing, and
the meat. The branches and the stick he would cast upon waste land, but
the meat and the clothing he would keep for himself.”(496) Here the notion
of transferring the sickness to the animal is plainly combined with, we
may almost say overshadowed by the notion that the ailment is left behind
adhering to the cleft plantain-stem or to the stick and branches of the
narrow opening through which the patient has made his way. That obviously
is why the plantain-stem or the stick and branches are thrown away on
waste land, lest they should infect other people with the sickness which
has been transferred to them.

(M143) The Kai of German New Guinea attribute sickness to the agency
either of ghosts or of sorcerers, but suspicion always falls at first on
ghosts, who are deemed even worse than the sorcerers. To cure a sick man
they will sometimes cleave a stick in the middle, leaving the two ends
intact, and then oblige the sufferer to insert his head through the cleft.
After that they stroke his whole body with the stick from head to foot.
“The stick with the soul-stuff of the ghosts is then hurled away or
otherwise destroyed, whereupon the sick man is supposed to recover.”(497)
Here the ghosts who cause the sickness are clearly supposed to be scraped
from the patient’s body by means of the cleft stick, and to be thrown away
or destroyed with the implement. The Looboos, a primitive tribe in the
Mandailing district of Sumatra, stand in great fear of the wandering
spirits of the dead (_soemangots_). But “they know all sorts of means of
protecting themselves against the unwelcome visits of the spirits. For
example, if a man has lost his way in the forest, he thinks that this is
the work of such a spirit (_soemangot_), who dogs the wanderer and bedims
his sight. So in order to throw the malignant spirit off the track he
takes a rattan and splits it through the middle. By bending the rattan an
opening is made, through which he creeps. After that the rattan is quickly
stretched and the opening closes. By this procedure the spirit (so they
think) cannot find the opening again and so cannot further follow his
victim.”(498) Here therefore, the passage through a cleft stick is
conceived in the clearest way as an escape from a spiritual pursuer, and
the closing of the aperture when the fugitive has passed through it is
nothing but the slamming of the door in the face of his invisible foe.

(M144) A similar significance is probably to be attached to other cases of
ceremonially passing through a cleft stick even where the intention of the
rite is not expressly alleged. Thus among the Ovambo of German South-West
Africa young women who have become marriageable perform a variety of
ceremonies; among other things they dance in the large and the small
cattle-kraal. On quitting the large cattle-kraal after the dance, and on
entering and quitting the small cattle-kraal, they are obliged to pass,
one after the other, through the fork of a cleft stick, of which the two
sides are held wide open by an old man.(499) Among the Washamba of German
East Africa, when a boy has been circumcised, two women bring a long
sugar-cane, which still bears its leaves. The cane is split at some
distance from its upper and lower ends and the two sides are held apart so
as to form a cleft or opening; at the lower end of the cleft a _danga_
ring is fastened. The father and mother of the circumcised youth now place
the sugar-cane between them, touch the ring with their feet, and then slip
through the cleft; and after them the lad’s aunt must also pass through
the cleft sugar-cane.(500) In both these cases the passage through the
cleft stick is probably intended to give the slip to certain dangerous
spirits, which are apt to molest people at such critical seasons as
puberty and circumcision.

(M145) Again, the passage through a ring or hoop is resorted to for like
reasons as a mode of curing or preventing disease. Thus in Sweden, when a
natural ring has been found in a tree, it is carefully removed and
treasured in the family; for sick and especially rickety children are
healed by merely passing through it.(501) A young married woman in Sweden,
who suffered from an infirmity, was advised by a wise woman to steal three
branches of willow, make them into a hoop, and creep through it naked,
taking care not to touch the hoop and to keep perfectly silent. The hoop
was afterwards to be burnt. She carried out the prescription faithfully,
and her faith was rewarded by a perfect cure.(502) No doubt her infirmity
was thought to adhere to the hoop and to be burnt with it. Similarly in
Scotland children who suffered from hectic fever and consumptive patients
used to be healed by passing thrice through a circular wreath of woodbine,
which was cut during the increase of the March moon and was let down over
the body of the sufferer from the head to the feet. Thus Jonet Stewart
cured sundry women by “taking ane garland of grene woodbynd, and causing
the patient pas thryis throw it, quhilk thairefter scho cut in nyne
pieces, and cast in the fyre.” Another wise woman transmitted the sick
“throw are girth of woodbind thryis thre times, saying, ‘I do this in name
of the Father, the Sone, and the Halie Ghaist.’ ”(503) The Highlanders of
Strathspey used to force all their sheep and lambs to pass through a hoop
of rowan-tree on All Saints’ Day and Beltane (the first of November and
the first of May),(504) probably as a means of warding off the witches and
fairies, who are especially dreaded at these seasons, and against whose
malignant arts the rowan-tree affords an efficient protection. In
Oldenburg when a cow gives little or no milk, they milk her through a hole
in a branch. In Eversten they say that this should be done through a ring
which an oak-tree has formed round the scar where a branch has been sawn
off. Others say the beast should be milked through a “witch’s nest,” that
is, through the boughs of a birch-tree which have grown in a tangle. Such
a “witch’s nest” is also hung up in a pig’s stye to protect the pig
against witchcraft.(505) Hence the aim of milking a cow through a “witch’s
nest” or through a natural wooden ring is no doubt to deliver the poor
creature from an artful witch who has been draining away the milk into her
own pail, as witches are too apt to do. Again, in Oldenburg sick children,
and also adults and animals, are passed through a ring of rough unwashed
yarn, just as it comes from the reel. To complete the cure you should
throw a hot coal thrice through the ring, then spit through it thrice, and
finally bury the yarn under a stone, where you leave it to rot. The writer
who reports these remedies explains them as intended to strip the
witchcraft, as you might say, from the bodies of the victims, whether
human or animal, on whom the witch has cast her spell.(506) Among the
Lushais of Assam “five to ten days after the child is born its body is
said to be covered with small pimples, its lips become black and its
strength decreases. The family then obtain a particular kind of creeping
plant called _vawm_, which they make into a coil. In the evening
everything in the house that has a lid or covering is uncovered, and the
child is thrice passed through this coil, which act is supposed to clear
the child’s skin and restore its strength. After this is finished, the
parents go to bed and the pots or other receptacles are covered again by
any of the other members of the family. The parents themselves must not
replace any of these lids for fear that they might shut up the spirit of
the child in them.”(507) When the Kwakiutl Indians of British Columbia
fear the outbreak of an epidemic, a medicine-man takes a large ring of
hemlock branches and causes every member of the tribe to pass through it.
Each person puts his head through the ring and then moves the ring
downwards over his body till it has almost reached his feet, when he steps
out of it, right foot first. They think that this prevents the epidemic
from breaking out.(508) In Asia Minor, “if a person is believed to be
possessed by an evil spirit, one form of treatment is to heat an
iron-chain red-hot, form it into a ring and pass the afflicted person
through the opening, on the theory that the evil spirit cannot pass the
hot chain, and so is torn from his victim and left behind.”(509) Here the
intention of the passage through the aperture is avowedly to shake off a
spiritual pursuer, who is deterred from further pursuit not only by the
narrowness of the opening but by the risk of burning himself in the
attempt to make his way through it.

(M146) But if the intention of these ceremonies is essentially to rid the
performer of some harmful thing, whether a disease or a ghost or a demon,
which is supposed to be clinging to him, we should expect to find that any
narrow hole or opening would serve the purpose as well as a cleft tree or
stick, an arch or ring of boughs, or a couple of posts fixed in the
ground. And this expectation is not disappointed. On the coast of Morven
and Mull thin ledges of rock may be seen pierced with large holes near the
sea. Consumptive people used to be brought thither, and after the tops of
nine waves had been caught in a dish and thrown on the patient’s head, he
was made to pass through one of the rifted rocks thrice in the direction
of the sun.(510) “On the farm of Crossapol in Coll there is a stone called
_Clach Thuill_, that is, the Hole Stone, through which persons suffering
from consumption were made to pass three times in the name of the Father,
Son, and Holy Ghost. They took meat with them each time, and left some on
the stone. The bird that took the food away had the consumption laid upon
it. Similar stones, under which the patient can creep, were made use of in
other islands.”(511) Here it is manifest that the patient left his disease
behind him on the stone, since the bird which carried off the food from
the stone caught the disease. In the Aberdeenshire river Dee, at Cambus o’
May, near Ballater, there is a rock with a hole in it large enough to let
a person pass through. Legend runs that childless women used to wade out
to the stone and squeeze themselves through the hole. It is said that a
certain noble lady tried the effect of the charm not very many years ago
with indifferent success.(512) In the parish of Madern in Cornwall, near
the village of Lanyon, there is a perforated stone called the _Mên-an-tol_
or “holed stone,” through which people formerly crept as a remedy for
pains in the back and limbs; and at certain times of the year parents drew
their children through the hole to cure them of the rickets.(513) The
passage through the stone was also deemed a cure for scrofula, provided it
was made against the sun and repeated three times or three times
three.(514)

(M147) Near the little town of Dourgne, not far from Castres, in Southern
France, there is a mountain, and on the top of the mountain is a
tableland, where a number of large stones may be seen planted in the
ground about a cross and rising to a height of two to five feet above the
ground. Almost all of them are pierced with holes of different sizes. From
time immemorial people used to assemble at Dourgne and the neighbourhood
every year on the sixth of August, the festival of St. Estapin. The
palsied, the lame, the blind, the sick of all sorts, flocked thither to
seek and find a cure for their various infirmities. Very early in the
morning they set out from the villages where they had lodged or from the
meadows where for want of better accommodation they had been forced to
pass the night, and went on pilgrimage to the chapel of St. Estapin, which
stands in a gorge at the southern foot of the mountain. Having gone nine
times in procession round the chapel, they hobbled, limped, or crawled to
the tableland on the top of the mountain. There each of them chose a stone
with a hole of the requisite size and thrust his ailing member through the
hole. For there are holes to suit every complaint; some for the head, some
for the arm, some for the leg, and so on. Having performed this simple
ceremony they were cured; the lame walked, the blind saw, the palsied
recovered the use of their limbs, and so on. The chapel of the saint is
adorned with the crutches and other artificial aids, now wholly
superfluous, which the joyful pilgrims left behind them in token of their
gratitude and devotion.(515) About two miles from Gisors, in the French
department of Oise, there is a dolmen called Trie or Trie- Chateau,
consisting of three upright stones with a fourth and larger stone laid
horizontally on their tops. The stone which forms the back wall of the
dolmen is pierced about the middle by an irregularly shaped hole, through
which the people of the neighbourhood used from time immemorial to pass
their sickly children in the firm belief that the passage through the
stone would restore them to health.(516)

(M148) In the church of St. Corona at the village of Koppenwal, in Lower
Bavaria, there is a hole in the stone on which the altar rests. Through
this hole, while service was going on, the peasants used to creep,
believing that having done so they would not suffer from pains in their
back at harvest.(517) In the crypt of the old cathedral at Freising in
Bavaria there is a tomb which is reputed to contain the relics of St.
Nonnosius. Between a pillar of the tomb and the wall there is a narrow
opening, through which persons afflicted with pains in the back creep in
order to obtain thereby some mitigation of their pangs.(518) In Upper
Austria, above the Lake of Aber, which is a sheet of dark-green water
nestling among wooded mountains, there stands the Falkenstein chapel of
St. Wolfgang built close to the face of a cliff that rises from a little
green dale. A staircase leads up from the chapel to a narrow, dark,
dripping cleft in the rock, through which pilgrims creep in a stooping
posture “in the belief that they can strip off their bodily sufferings or
sins on the face of the rock.”(519) Women with child also crawl through
the hole, hoping thus to obtain an easy delivery.(520) In the Greek island
of Cythnos, when a child is sickly, the mother will take it to a hole in a
rock about half an hour distant from Messaria. There she strips the child
naked and pushes it through the hole in the rock, afterwards throwing away
the old garments and clothing the child in new ones.(521)

(M149) Near Everek, on the site of the ancient Caesarea in Asia Minor,
there is a rifted rock through which persons pass to rid themselves of a
cough.(522) A writer well acquainted with Asia Minor has described how he
visited “a well-known pool of water tucked away in a beautiful nook high
up among the Anatolian mountains, and with a wide reputation for sanctity
and healing powers. We arrived just as the last of a flock of three
hundred sheep were being passed through a peculiar hole in the thin ledge
of a huge rock to deliver them from a disease of the liver supposed to
prevent the proper laying on of fat.”(523) Among the Kawars of the Central
Provinces in India a man who suffers from intermittent fever will try to
cure it by walking through a narrow passage between two houses.(524) In a
ruined church of St. Brandon, about ten miles from Dingle, in the west of
Ireland, there is a narrow window, through which sick women pass thrice in
order to be cured.(525) The Hindoos of the Punjaub think that the birth of
a son after three girls is unlucky for the parents, and in order to avert
the ill-luck they resort to a number of devices. Amongst other things they
break the centre of a bronze plate and remove all but the rim; then they
pass the luckless child through the bronze rim. Moreover, they make an
opening in the roof of the room where the birth took place, and then pull
the infant out through the opening; and further they pass the child under
the sill of the door.(526) By these passages through narrow apertures they
apparently hope to rid the child of the ill-luck which is either pursuing
it or sticking to it like a burr. For in this case, as in many similar
ones, it might be hard to say whether the riddance is conceived as an
escape from the pursuit of a maleficent spirit or as the abrasion of a
dangerous substance which adheres to the person of the sufferer.

(M150) Another way of ridding man and beast of the clinging infection of
disease is to pass them through a hole dug in the ground. This mode of
cure was practised in Europe during the Middle Ages, and has survived in
Denmark down to modern times. In a sermon preached by St. Eloi, Bishop of
Noyon, in the sixth century, he forbade the faithful to practise
lustrations and to drive their sheep through hollow trees and holes in the
earth, “because by this they seem to consecrate them to the devil.”(527)
Theodore, Archbishop of Canterbury, who died in 690 A.D., decreed that “if
any one for the health of his little son shall pass through a hole in the
ground and then close it behind him with thorns, let him do penance for
eleven days on bread and water.”(528) Here the closing of the hole with
thorns after the patient or his representative has passed through is
plainly intended to barricade the narrow way against the pursuit of
sickness personified as a demon; hence it confirms the general
interpretation here given of these customs. Again, Burchard, Bishop of
Worms, who died in A.D. 1025, repeated the same condemnation: “Hast thou
done what certain women are wont to do? I mean those who have squalling
babes; they dig the earth and pierce it, and through that hole they drag
the babe, and they say that thus the squalling babe ceases to squall. If
thou has done this or consented unto it, thou shalt do penance for fifteen
days on bread and water.”(529) At Fünen in Denmark, as late as the latter
part of the nineteenth century, a cure for childish ailments was to dig up
several sods, arrange them so as to form a hole, and then to pass the sick
child through it.(530) A simplified form of this cure is adopted in
Jutland. At twelve o’clock on a Thursday night you go to a churchyard, dig
up a circular piece of turf, and make a hole in it large enough to permit
the passage through it of your infant progeny. Taking the sod with you, go
home, salute nobody on the way, and speak to nobody. On getting to your
house, take the child and pass it thrice through the turf from right to
left; then take the turf back to the churchyard and replace it in
position. If the turf takes root and grows afresh, the child will recover;
but if the turf withers, there is no hope. Elsewhere it is at the hour of
sunset rather than of midnight that people cut the turf in the churchyard.
The same cure is applied to cattle which have been bewitched; though
naturally in that case you must cut a much bigger turf and make a much
bigger hole in it to let a horse or a cow through than is necessary for an
infant.(531) Here, again, the conception of a sympathetic relation,
established between the sufferer and the thing which has rid him of his
ailment, comes out clearly in the belief, that if the turf through which
the child has been passed thrives, the child will thrive also, but that if
the turf withers, the child will die. Among the Corannas, a people of the
Hottentot race on the Orange River, “when a child recovers from a
dangerous illness, a trench is dug in the ground, across the middle of
which an arch is thrown, and an ox made to stand upon it; the child is
then dragged under the arch. After this ceremony the animal is killed, and
eaten by married people who have children, none else being permitted to
participate of the feast.”(532) Here the attempt to leave the sickness
behind in the hole, which is probably the essence of the ceremony, may
perhaps be combined with an endeavour to impart to the child the strength
and vigour of the animal. Ancient India seems also to have been familiar
with the same primitive notion that sickness could, as it were, be
stripped off the person of the sufferer by passing him through a narrow
aperture; for in the Rigveda it is said that Indra cured Apala of a
disease of the skin by drawing her through the yoke of the chariot; “thus
the god made her to have a golden skin, purifying her thrice.”(533)

(M151) At the small village of Damun, on the Kabenau river, in German New
Guinea, a traveller witnessed the natives performing a ceremony of
initiation, of which the following rite formed part. The candidates for
initiation, six in number, were boys and lads of various ages from about
four years of age to sixteen or seventeen. The company betook themselves
to the bed of a small stream, where at the end of a gully a hollow in the
rocks formed a natural basin. At the entrance to the gully a sort of yoke,
so the traveller calls it, was erected by means of some poles, and from
the cross-piece plants were hung so as to make an arch. One of the men
took up his station in front of the arch, and as each candidate came up,
the man seized him, spat on his breast and back a clot of red spittle, and
gave him several severe blows with the stock of a plant. After that the
candidate, who had previously stripped himself naked, passed under the
leafy arch and bathed in the rocky pool at the other end of the gully. All
the time that this solemnity was proceeding another man sat perched on a
neighbouring rock, beating a drum and singing. Only men took part in the
ceremony.(534) Though no explanation of the ceremony is given by the
observer who witnessed it, we may suppose that by passing under the yoke
or arch the novices were supposed to rid themselves of certain evil
influences, whether conceived as spiritual or not, which they left behind
them on the further side of the barrier. This interpretation is confirmed
by the bath which each candidate took immediately afterwards. In short the
whole purpose of the rite would seem to have been purificatory.

(M152) With the preceding examples before us, it seems worth while to ask
whether the ancient Italian practice of making conquered enemies to pass
under a yoke may not in its origin have been a purificatory ceremony,
designed to rid the foe of some uncanny powers before dismissing him to
his home. For apparently the ceremony was only observed with prisoners who
were about to be released;(535) had it been a mere mark of ignominy, there
seems to be no reason why it should not have been inflicted also on men
who were doomed to die. This conjectural explanation of the ceremony is
confirmed by the tradition that the Roman Horatius was similarly obliged
by his fellow-countrymen to pass under a yoke as a form of purification
for the murder of his sister. The yoke by passing under which he cleansed
himself from his sister’s blood was still to be seen in Rome when Livy was
writing his history under the emperor Augustus. It was an ancient wooden
beam spanning a narrow lane in an old quarter of the city, the two ends of
the beam being built into the masonry of the walls on either side; it went
by the name of the Sister’s Beam, and whenever the wood decayed and
threatened to fall, the venerable monument, which carried back the
thoughts of passers-by to the kingly age of Rome, was repaired at the
public expense.(536) If our interpretation of these customs is right, it
was the ghost of his murdered sister whom the Roman hero gave the slip to
by passing under the yoke; and it may have been the angry ghosts of
slaughtered Romans from whom the enemy’s soldiers were believed to be
delivered when they marched under the yoke before being dismissed by their
merciful conquerors to their homes.

(M153) In a former part of this work we saw that homicides in general and
victorious warriors in particular are often obliged to perform a variety
of ceremonies for the purpose of ridding them of the dangerous ghosts of
their victims.(537) If the ceremony of passing under the yoke was
primarily designed, as I have suggested, to free the soldiers from the
angry ghosts of the men whom they had slain, we should expect to find that
the victorious Romans themselves observed a similar ceremony after a
battle for a similar purpose. Was this the original meaning of passing
under a triumphal arch? In other words, may not the triumphal arch have
been for the victors what the yoke was for the vanquished, a barrier to
protect them against the pursuit of the spirits of the slain? That the
Romans felt the need of purification from the taint of bloodshed after a
battle appears from the opinion of Masurius, mentioned by Pliny, that the
laurel worn by soldiers in a triumphal procession was intended to purge
them from the slaughter of the enemy.(538) A special gate, the _Porta
Triumphalis_, was reserved for the entrance of a victorious army into
Rome;(539) and it would be in accordance with ancient religious views if
this distinction was originally not so much an honour conferred as a
precaution enforced to prevent the ordinary gates from being polluted by
the passage of thousands of blood-guilty men.(540)




§ 3. The External Soul in Animals.


(M154) But in practice, as in folk-tales, it is not merely with inanimate
objects and plants that a person is occasionally believed to be united by
a bond of physical sympathy. The same bond, it is supposed, may exist
between a man and an animal, so that the welfare of the one depends on the
welfare of the other, and when the animal dies the man dies also. The
analogy between the custom and the tales is all the closer because in both
of them the power of thus removing the soul from the body and stowing it
away in an animal is often a special privilege of wizards and witches.
Thus the Yakuts of Siberia believe that every shaman or wizard keeps his
soul, or one of his souls, incarnate in an animal which is carefully
concealed from all the world. “Nobody can find my external soul,” said one
famous wizard, “it lies hidden far away in the stony mountains of
Edzhigansk.” Only once a year, when the last snows melt and the earth
turns black, do these external souls of wizards appear in the shape of
animals among the dwellings of men. They wander everywhere, yet none but
wizards can see them. The strong ones sweep roaring and noisily along, the
weak steal about quietly and furtively. Often they fight, and then the
wizard whose external soul is beaten, falls ill or dies. The weakest and
most cowardly wizards are they whose souls are incarnate in the shape of
dogs, for the dog gives his human double no peace, but gnaws his heart and
tears his body. The most powerful wizards are they whose external souls
have the shape of stallions, elks, black bears, eagles, or boars. Again,
the Samoyeds of the Turukhinsk region hold that every shaman has a
familiar spirit in the shape of a boar, which he leads about by a magic
belt. On the death of the boar the shaman himself dies; and stories are
told of battles between wizards, who send their spirits to fight before
they encounter each other in person.(541) In Yorkshire witches are thought
to stand in such peculiarly close relations to hares, that if a particular
hare is killed or wounded, a certain witch will at the same moment be
killed or receive a hurt in her body exactly corresponding to the wound in
the hare.(542) However, this fancy is probably a case of the general
European belief that witches have the power of temporarily transforming
themselves into certain animals, particularly hares and cats, and that any
hurts inflicted on such transformed animals are felt by the witches who
are concealed in the animals.(543) But the notion that a person can
temporarily transform himself into an animal differs from the notion that
he can deposit his soul for a longer or shorter period in an animal, while
he himself retains the human form; though in the cloudy mind of the
peasant and the savage the two ideas may not always be sharply
distinguished. The Malays believe that “the soul of a person may pass into
another person or into an animal, or rather that such a mysterious
relation can arise between the two that the fate of the one is wholly
dependent on that of the other.”(544)

(M155) Among the Melanesians of Mota, one of the New Hebrides islands, the
conception of an external soul is carried out in the practice of daily
life. The Mota word for soul is _atai_. “The use of the word _atai_ in
Mota seems properly and originally to have been to signify something
peculiarly and intimately connected with a person and sacred to him,
something that he has set his fancy upon when he has seen it in what has
seemed to him a wonderful manner, or some one has shewn it to him as such.
Whatever the thing might be the man believed it to be the reflection of
his own personality; he and his _atai_ flourished, suffered, lived, and
died together. But the word must not be supposed to have been borrowed
from this use and applied secondarily to describe the soul; the word
carries a sense with it which is applicable alike to that second self, the
visible object so mysteriously connected with the man, and to this
invisible second self which we call the soul. There is another Mota word,
_tamaniu_, which has almost if not quite the same meaning as _atai_ has
when it describes something animate or inanimate which a man has come to
believe to have an existence intimately connected with his own. The word
_tamaniu_ may be taken to be properly ‘likeness,’ and the noun form of the
adverb _tama_, as, like. It was not every one in Mota who had his
_tamaniu_; only some men fancied that they had this relation to a lizard,
a snake, or it might be a stone; sometimes the thing was sought for and
found by drinking the infusion of certain leaves and heaping together the
dregs; then whatever living thing was first seen in or upon the heap was
the _tamaniu_. It was watched but not fed or worshipped; the natives
believed that it came at call, and that the life of the man was bound up
with the life of his _tamaniu_, if a living thing, or with its safety;
should it die, or if not living get broken or be lost, the man would die.
Hence in case of sickness they would send to see if the _tamaniu_ was safe
and well. This word has never been used apparently for the soul in Mota;
but in Aurora in the New Hebrides it is the accepted equivalent. It is
well worth observing that both the _atai_ and the _tamaniu_, and it may be
added the Motlav _talegi_, is something which has a substantial existence
of its own, as when a snake or stone is a man’s _atai_ or _tamaniu_; a
soul then when called by these names is conceived of as something in a way
substantial.”(545)

(M156) From this account, which we owe to the careful and accurate
researches of the Rev. Dr. Codrington, we gather that while every person
in Mota has a second self or external soul in a visible object called an
_atai_, only some people have, it may be, a second external soul in
another visible object called a _tamaniu_. We may conjecture that persons
who have a _tamaniu_ in addition to an _atai_ are more than usually
anxious as to the state of their soul, and that they seek to put it in
perfect security by what we may call a system of double insurance,
calculating that if one of their external souls should die or be broken,
they themselves may still survive by virtue of the survival of the other.
Be that as it may, the _tamaniu_ discharges two functions, one of them
defensive and the other offensive. On the one hand, so long as it lives or
remains unbroken, it preserves its owner in life; and on the other hand it
helps him to injure his enemies. In its offensive character, if the
_tamaniu_ happens to be an eel, it will bite its owner’s enemy; if it is a
shark, it will swallow him. In its defensive character, the state of the
_tamaniu_ is a symptom or life-token of the state of the man; hence when
he is ill he will visit and examine it, or if he cannot go himself he will
send another to inspect it and report. In either case the man turns the
animal, if animal it be, carefully over in order to see what is the matter
with it; should something be found sticking to its skin, it is removed,
and through the relief thus afforded to the creature the sick man
recovers. But if the animal should be found dying, it is an omen of death
for the man; for whenever it dies he dies also.(546)

(M157) In Melanesia a native doctor was once attending to a sick man. Just
then “a large eagle-hawk came soaring past the house, and Kaplen, my
hunter, was going to shoot it; but the doctor jumped up in evident alarm,
and said, ‘Oh, don’t shoot; that is my spirit’ (_niog_, literally, my
shadow); ‘if you shoot that, I will die.’ He then told the old man, ‘If
you see a rat to-night, don’t drive it away, ’tis my spirit (_niog_), or a
snake which will come to-night, that also is my spirit.’ ”(547) It does
not appear whether the doctor in this case, like the giant or warlock in
the tales, kept his spirit permanently in the bird or in the animal, or
whether he only transferred it temporarily to the creature for the purpose
of enabling him the better to work the cure, perhaps by sending out his
own soul in a bird or beast to find and bring back the lost soul of the
patient. In either case he seems to have thought, like the giant or
warlock in the stories, that the death of the bird or the animal would
simultaneously entail his own. A family in Nauru, one of the Marshall
Islands, apparently imagine that their lives are bound up with a species
of large fish, which has a huge mouth and devours human beings; for when
one of these fish was killed, the members of the family cried, “Our
guardian spirit is killed, now we must all die!”(548)

(M158) The theory of an external soul deposited in an animal appears to be
very prevalent in West Africa, particularly in Nigeria, the Cameroons, and
the Gaboon.(549) In the latter part of the nineteenth century two English
missionaries, established at San Salvador, the capital of the King of
Congo, asked the natives repeatedly whether any of them had seen the
strange, big, East African goat which Stanley had given to a chief at
Stanley Pool in 1877. But their enquiries were fruitless; no native would
admit that he had seen the goat. Some years afterwards the missionaries
discovered why they could obtain no reply to their enquiry. All the
people, it turned out, imagined that the missionaries believed the spirit
of the King of Salvador to be contained in the goat, and that they wished
to obtain possession of the animal in order to exercise an evil influence
on his majesty.(550) The belief from the standpoint of the Congo savages
was natural enough, since in that region some chiefs regularly link their
fate to that of an animal. Thus the Chief Bankwa of Ndolo, on the Moeko
River, had conferred this honour on a certain hippopotamus of the
neighbourhood, at which he would allow nobody to shoot.(551) At the
village of Ongek, in the Gaboon, a French missionary slept in the hut of
an old Fan chief. Awakened about two in the morning by a rustling of dry
leaves, he lit a torch, when to his horror he perceived a huge black
serpent of the most dangerous sort, coiled in a corner, with head erect,
shining eyes, and hissing jaws, ready to dart at him. Instinctively he
seized his gun and pointed it at the reptile, when suddenly his arm was
struck up, the torch was extinguished, and the voice of the old chief
said, “Don’t fire! don’t fire! I beg of you. In killing the serpent, it is
me that you would kill. Fear nothing. The serpent is my _elangela_.” So
saying he flung himself on his knees beside the reptile, put his arms
about it, and clasped it to his breast. The serpent received his caresses
quietly, manifesting neither anger nor fear, and the chief carried it off
and laid it down beside him in another hut, exhorting the missionary to
have no fear and never to speak of the subject.(552) His curiosity being
excited by this adventure, the missionary, Father Trilles, pursued his
enquiries and ascertained that among the Fans of the Gaboon every wizard
is believed at initiation to unite his life with that of some particular
wild animal by a rite of blood-brotherhood; he draws blood from the ear of
the animal and from his own arm, and inoculates the animal with his own
blood, and himself with the blood of the beast. Henceforth such an
intimate union is established between the two that the death of the one
entails the death of the other. The alliance is thought to bring to the
wizard or sorcerer a great accession of power, which he can turn to his
advantage in various ways. In the first place, like the warlock in the
fairy tales who has deposited his life outside of himself in some safe
place, the Fan wizard now deems himself invulnerable. Moreover, the animal
with which he has exchanged blood has become his familiar, and will obey
any orders he may choose to give it; so he makes use of it to injure and
kill his enemies. For that reason the creature with whom he establishes
the relation of blood-brotherhood is never a tame or domestic animal, but
always a ferocious and dangerous wild beast, such as a leopard, a black
serpent, a crocodile, a hippopotamus, a wild boar, or a vulture. Of all
these creatures the leopard is by far the commonest familiar of Fan
wizards, and next to it comes the black serpent; the vulture is the
rarest. Witches as well as wizards have their familiars; but the animals
with which the lives of women are thus bound up generally differ from
those to which men commit their external souls. A witch never has a
panther for her familiar, but often a venomous species of serpent,
sometimes a horned viper, sometimes a black serpent, sometimes a green one
that lives in banana-trees; or it may be a vulture, an owl, or other bird
of night. In every case the beast or bird with which the witch or wizard
has contracted this mystic alliance is an individual, never a species; and
when the individual animal dies the alliance is naturally at an end, since
the death of the animal is supposed to entail the death of the man.(553)

(M159) Similar beliefs are held by the natives of the Cross River valley
within the German provinces of the Cameroons. Groups of people, generally
the inhabitants of a village, have chosen various animals, with which they
believe themselves to stand on a footing of intimate friendship or
relationship. Amongst such animals are hippopotamuses, elephants,
leopards, crocodiles, gorillas, fish, and serpents, all of them creatures
which are either very strong or can easily hide themselves in the water or
a thicket. This power of concealing themselves is said to be an
indispensable condition of the choice of animal familiars, since the
animal friend or helper is expected to injure his owner’s enemy by
stealth; for example, if he is a hippopotamus, he will bob up suddenly out
of the water and capsize the enemy’s canoe. Between the animals and their
human friends or kinsfolk such a sympathetic relation is supposed to exist
that the moment the animal dies the man dies also, and similarly the
instant the man perishes so does the beast. From this it follows that the
animal kinsfolk may never be shot at or molested for fear of injuring or
killing the persons whose lives are knit up with the lives of the brutes.
This does not, however, prevent the people of a village, who have
elephants for their animal friends, from hunting elephants. For they do
not respect the whole species but merely certain individuals of it, which
stand in an intimate relation to certain individual men and women; and
they imagine that they can always distinguish these brother elephants from
the common herd of elephants which are mere elephants and nothing more.
The recognition indeed is said to be mutual. When a hunter, who has an
elephant for his friend, meets a human elephant, as we may call it, the
noble animal lifts up a paw and holds it before his face, as much as to
say, “Don’t shoot.” Were the hunter so inhuman as to fire on and wound
such an elephant, the person whose life was bound up with the elephant
would fall ill.(554)

(M160) The Balong of the Cameroons think that every man has several souls,
of which one is in his body and another in an animal, such as an elephant,
a wild pig, a leopard, and so forth. When a man comes home, feeling ill,
and says, “I shall soon die,” and dies accordingly, the people aver that
one of his souls has been killed in a wild pig or a leopard, and that the
death of the external soul has caused the death of the soul in his body.
Hence the corpse is cut open, and a diviner determines, from an inspection
of the inwards, whether the popular surmise is correct or not.(555)

(M161) A similar belief in the external souls of living people is
entertained by the Ibos, an important tribe of the Niger delta, who
inhabit a country west of the Cross River. They think that a man’s spirit
can quit his body for a time during life and take up its abode in an
animal. This is called _ishi anu_, “to turn animal.” A man who wishes to
acquire this power procures a certain drug from a wise man and mixes it
with his food. After that his soul goes out and enters into the animal. If
it should happen that the animal is killed while the man’s soul is lodged
in it, the man dies; and if the animal be wounded, the man’s body will
presently be covered with boils. This belief instigates to many deeds of
darkness; for a sly rogue will sometimes surreptitiously administer the
magical drug to his enemy in his food, and having thus smuggled the
other’s soul into an animal will destroy the creature, and with it the man
whose soul is lodged in it.(556) A like belief is reported to prevail
among the tribes of the Obubura Hill district on the Cross River in
Southern Nigeria. Once when Mr. Partridge’s canoe-men wished to catch fish
near a town of the Assiga tribe, the people objected, saying, “Our souls
live in those fish, and if you kill them we shall die.”(557)

(M162) The negroes of Calabar, at the mouth of the Niger, believe that
every person has four souls, one of which always lives outside of his or
her body in the form of a wild beast in the forest. This external soul, or
bush soul, as Miss Kingsley calls it, may be almost any animal, for
example, a leopard, a fish, or a tortoise; but it is never a domestic
animal and never a plant. Unless he is gifted with second sight, a man
cannot see his own bush soul, but a diviner will often tell him what sort
of creature his bush soul is, and after that the man will be careful not
to kill any animal of that species, and will strongly object to any one
else doing so. A man and his sons have usually the same sort of animals
for their bush souls, and so with a mother and her daughters. But
sometimes all the children of a family take after the bush soul of their
father; for example, if his external soul is a leopard, all his sons and
daughters will have leopards for their external souls. And on the other
hand, sometimes they all take after their mother; for instance, if her
external soul is a tortoise, all the external souls of her sons and
daughters will be tortoises too. So intimately bound up is the life of the
man with that of the animal which he regards as his external or bush soul,
that the death or injury of the animal necessarily entails the death or
injury of the man. And, conversely, when the man dies, his bush soul can
no longer find a place of rest, but goes mad and rushes into the fire or
charges people and is knocked on the head, and that is an end of it. When
a person is sick, the diviner will sometimes tell him that his bush soul
is angry at being neglected; thereupon the patient will make an offering
to the offended spirit and deposit it in a tiny hut in the forest at the
spot where the animal, which is his external soul, was last seen. If the
bush soul is appeased, the patient recovers; but if it is not, he dies.
Yet the foolish bush soul does not understand that in injuring the man it
injures itself, and that it cannot long survive his decease.(558)

(M163) Such is the account which Miss Kingsley gives of the bush souls of
the Calabar negroes. Some fresh particulars are furnished by Mr. Richard
Henshaw, Agent for Native Affairs at Calabar. He tells us that a man may
only marry a woman who has the same sort of bush soul as himself; for
example, if his bush soul is a leopard, his wife also must have a leopard
for her bush soul. Further, we learn from Mr. Henshaw that a person’s bush
soul need not be that either of his father or of his mother. For example,
a child with a hippopotamus for his bush soul may be born into a family,
all the members of which have wild pigs for their bush souls; this happens
when the child is a reincarnation of a man whose external soul was a
hippopotamus. In such a case, if the parents object to the intrusion of an
alien soul, they may call in a medicine-man to check its growth and
finally abolish it altogether, after which they will give the child their
own bush soul. Or they may leave the matter over till the child comes of
age, when he will choose a bush soul for himself with the help of a
medicine-man, who will also select the piece of bush or water in which the
chosen animal lives. When a man dies, then the animal which contains his
external soul “becomes insensible and quite unconscious of the approach of
danger. Thus a hunter can capture or kill him with perfect ease.”
Sacrifices are often offered to prevent other people from killing the
animal in which a man’s bush soul resides. The tribes of Calabar which
hold these beliefs as to the bush soul are the Efik and Ekoi.(559) The
belief of the Calabar negroes in the external soul has been described as
follows by a missionary: “_Ukpong_ is the native word we have taken to
translate our word _soul_. It primarily signifies the shadow of a person.
It also signifies that which dwells within a man on which his life
depends, but which may detach itself from the body, and visiting places
and persons here and there, again return to its abode in the man....
Besides all this, the word is used to designate an animal possessed of an
_ukpong_, so connected with a person’s _ukpong_, that they mutually act
upon each other. When the leopard, or crocodile, or whatever animal may be
a man’s _ukpong_, gets sick or dies, the like thing happens to him. Many
individuals, it is believed, have the power of changing themselves into
the animals which are their _ukpong_.”(560)

(M164) Among the Ekoi of the Oban district, in Southern Nigeria, it is
usual to hear a person say of another that he or she “possesses” such and
such an animal, meaning that the person has the power to assume the shape
of that particular creature. It is their belief that by constant practice
and by virtue of certain hereditary secrets a man can quit his human body
and put on that of a wild beast. They say that in addition to the soul
which animates his human body everybody has a bush soul which at times he
can send forth to animate the body of the creature which he “possesses.”
When he wishes his bush soul to go out on its rambles, he drinks a magic
potion, the secret of which has been handed down from time immemorial, and
some of which is always kept ready for use in an ancient earthen pot set
apart for the purpose. No sooner has he drunk the mystic draught than his
bush soul escapes from him and floats away invisible through the town into
the forest. There it begins to swell and, safe in the shadow of the trees,
takes on the shape of the man’s animal double, it may be an elephant, a
leopard, a buffalo, a wild boar, or a crocodile. Naturally the potion
differs according to the kind of animal into which a man is temporarily
converted. It would be absurd, for example, to expect that the dose which
turns you into an elephant should also be able to turn you into a
crocodile; the thing is manifestly impossible. A great advantage of these
temporary conversions of a man into a beast is that it enables the convert
in his animal shape to pay out his enemy without being suspected. If, for
example, you have a grudge at a man who is a well-to-do farmer, all that
you have to do is to turn yourself by night into a buffalo, an elephant,
or a wild boar, and then, bursting into his fields, stamp about in them
till you have laid the standing crops level with the ground. That is why
in the neighbourhood of large well-tilled farms, people prefer to keep
their bush souls in buffaloes, elephants, and wild boars, because these
animals are the most convenient means of destroying a neighbour’s crops.
Whereas where the farms are small and ill-kept, as they are round about
Oban, it is hardly worth a man’s while to take the trouble of turning into
a buffalo or an elephant for the paltry satisfaction of rooting up a few
miserable yams or such like trash. So the Oban people keep their bush
souls in leopards and crocodiles, which, though of little use for the
purpose of destroying a neighbour’s crops, are excellent for the purpose
of killing the man himself first and eating him afterwards. But the power
of turning into an animal has this serious disadvantage that it lays you
open to the chance of being wounded or even slain in your animal skin
before you have time to put it off and scramble back into your human
integument. A remarkable case of this sort happened only a few miles from
Oban not long ago. To understand it you must know that the chiefs of the
Ododop tribe, who live about ten miles from Oban, keep their bush souls,
whenever they are out on a ramble, in the shape of buffaloes. Well, one
day the District Commissioner at Oban saw a buffalo come down to drink at
a stream which runs through his garden. He shot at the beast and hit it,
and it ran away badly wounded. At the very same moment the head chief of
the Ododop tribe, ten miles away, clapped his hand to his side and said,
“They have killed me at Oban.” Death was not instantaneous, for the
buffalo lingered in pain for a couple of days in the forest, but an hour
or two before its dead body was discovered by the trackers the chief
expired. Just before he died, with touching solicitude he sent a message
warning all people who kept their external souls in buffaloes to profit by
his sad fate and beware of going near Oban, which was not a safe place for
them. Naturally, when a man keeps his external soul from time to time in a
beast, say in a wild cow, he is not so foolish as to shoot an animal of
that particular sort, for in so doing he might perhaps be killing himself.
But he may kill animals in which other people keep their external souls.
For example, a wild cow man may freely shoot an antelope or a wild boar;
but should he do so and then have reason to suspect that the dead beast is
the animal double of somebody with whom he is on friendly terms, he must
perform certain ceremonies over the carcase and then hurry home, running
at the top of his speed, to administer a particular medicine to the man
whom he has unintentionally injured. In this way he may possibly be in
time to save the life of his friend from the effects of the deplorable
accident.(561)

(M165) Near Eket in North Calabar there is a sacred lake, the fish of
which are carefully preserved because the people believe that their own
souls are lodged in the fish, and that with every fish killed a human life
would be simultaneously extinguished.(562) In the Calabar River not very
many years ago there used to be a huge old crocodile, popularly supposed
to contain the external soul of a chief who resided in the flesh at Duke
Town. Sporting vice-consuls used from time to time to hunt the animal, and
once a peculiarly energetic officer contrived to hit it. Forthwith the
chief was laid up with a wound in his leg. He gave out that a dog had
bitten him, but no doubt the wise shook their heads and refused to be put
off with so flimsy a pretext.(563) Again, among several tribes on the
banks of the Niger between Lokoja and the delta there prevails “a belief
in the possibility of a man possessing an _alter ego_ in the form of some
animal such as a crocodile or a hippopotamus. It is believed that such a
person’s life is bound up with that of the animal to such an extent that,
whatever affects the one produces a corresponding impression upon the
other, and that if one dies the other must speedily do so too. It happened
not very long ago that an Englishman shot a hippopotamus close to a native
village; the friends of a woman who died the same night in the village
demanded and eventually obtained five pounds as compensation for the
murder of the woman.”(564) Among the Montols of Northern Nigeria, “in many
of the compounds there will be found a species of snake, of a
non-poisonous sort, which, when full grown, attains a length of about five
feet and a girth of eight or nine inches. These snakes live in and about
the compound. They are not specially fed by the people of the place, nor
are places provided for them to nest in. They live generally in the roofs
of the small granaries and huts that make up the compound. They feed upon
small mammals, and no doubt serve a useful purpose in destroying vermin
which might otherwise eat the stored grain. They are not kept for the
purpose of destroying vermin, however. The Montols believe that at the
birth of every individual of their race, male and female, one of these
snakes, of the same sex, is also born. If the snake be killed, his human
partner in life dies also and at the same time. If the wife of a
compound-owner gives birth to a son, shortly after the interesting event,
the snake of the establishment will be seen with a young one of
corresponding sex. From the moment of birth, these two, the snake and the
man, share a life of common duration, and the measure of the one is the
measure of the other. Hence every care is taken to protect these animals
from injury, and no Montol would in any circumstances think of injuring or
killing one. It is said that a snake of this kind never attempts any
injury to a man. There is only one type of snake thus regarded.”(565)
Among the Angass, of the Kanna District in Northern Nigeria, “when a man
is born, he is endowed with two distinct entities, life and a _kurua_
(Arabic _rin_).... When the _rin_ enters a man, its counterpart enters
some beast or snake at the same time, and if either dies, so also does the
body containing the counterpart. This, however, in no wise prevents a man
from killing any game, etc., he may see, though he knows full well that he
is causing thereby the death of some man or woman. When a man dies, his
life and _rin_ both leave him, though the latter is asserted sometimes to
linger near the place of death for a day or two.”(566) Again, at the town
of Paha, in the northern territory of the Gold Coast, there are pools
inhabited by crocodiles which are worshipped by the people. The natives
believe that for every death or birth in the town a similar event takes
place among the crocodiles.(567)

(M166) In South Africa the conception of an external soul deposited in an
animal, which is so common in West Africa, appears to be almost unknown;
at least I have met with no clear traces of it in literature. The
Bechuanas, indeed, commonly believe that if a man wounds a crocodile, the
man will be ill as long as the crocodile is ill of its wound, and that if
the crocodile dies, the man dies too. This belief is not, apparently,
confined to the Bechuana clan which has the crocodile for its totem, but
is shared by all the other clans; all of them certainly hold the crocodile
in respect.(568) It does not appear whether the sympathetic relation
between a man and a crocodile is supposed by the Bechuanas to be lifelong,
or only to arise at the moment when the man wounds the animal; in the
latter case the shedding of the crocodile’s blood might perhaps be thought
to establish a relationship of affinity or sympathy between the two. The
Zulus believe that every man is attended by an ancestral spirit (_ihlozi_,
or rather _idhlozi_) in the form of a serpent, “which specially guards and
helps him, lives with him, wakes with him, sleeps and travels with him,
but always under ground. If it ever makes its appearance, great is the
joy, and the man must seek to discover the meaning of its appearance. He
who has no _ihlozi_ must die. Therefore if any one kills an _ihlozi_
serpent, the man whose _ihlozi_ it was dies, but the serpent comes to life
again.”(569) But the conception of a dead ancestor incarnate in a snake,
on which the welfare or existence of one of his living descendants
depends, is rather that of a guardian spirit than of an external soul.

(M167) Amongst the Zapotecs of Central America, when a woman was about to
be confined, her relations assembled in the hut, and began to draw on the
floor figures of different animals, rubbing each one out as soon as it was
completed. This went on till the moment of birth, and the figure that then
remained sketched upon the ground was called the child’s _tona_ or second
self. “When the child grew old enough, he procured the animal that
represented him and took care of it, as it was believed that health and
existence were bound up with that of the animal’s, in fact that the death
of both would occur simultaneously,” or rather that when the animal died
the man would die too.(570) Among the Indians of Guatemala and Honduras
the _nagual_ or _naual_ is “that animate or inanimate object, generally an
animal, which stands in a parallel relation to a particular man, so that
the weal and woe of the man depend on the fate of the _nagual_.”(571)
According to an old writer, many Indians of Guatemala “are deluded by the
devil to believe that their life dependeth upon the life of such and such
a beast (which they take unto them as their familiar spirit), and think
that when that beast dieth they must die; when he is chased, their hearts
pant; when he is faint, they are faint; nay, it happeneth that by the
devil’s delusion they appear in the shape of that beast (which commonly by
their choice is a buck, or doe, a lion, or tigre, or dog, or eagle) and in
that shape have been shot at and wounded.”(572) Herrera’s account of the
way in which the Indians of Honduras acquired their _naguals_, runs thus:
“The devil deluded them, appearing in the shape of a lion or a tiger, or a
coyte, a beast like a wolf, or in the shape of an alligator, a snake, or a
bird, that province abounding in creatures of prey, which they called
_naguales_, signifying keepers or guardians, and when the bird died the
Indian that was in league with him died also, which often happened and was
looked upon as infallible. The manner of contracting this alliance was
thus. The Indian repaired to the river, wood, hill, or most obscure place,
where he called upon the devils by such names as he thought fit, talked to
the rivers, rocks, or woods, said he went to weep that he might have the
same his predecessors had, carrying a cock or a dog to sacrifice. In that
melancholy fit he fell asleep, and either in a dream or waking saw some
one of the aforesaid birds or other creatures, whom he entreated to grant
him profit in salt, cacao, or any other commodity, drawing blood from his
own tongue, ears, and other parts of his body, making his contract at the
same time with the said creature, the which either in a dream or waking
told him, ‘Such a day you shall go abroad asporting, and I will be the
first bird or other animal you shall meet, and will be your _nagual_ and
companion at all times.’ Whereupon such friendship was contracted between
them, that when one of them died the other did not survive, and they
fancied that he who had no _nagual_ could not be rich.”(573) The Indians
were persuaded that the death of their _nagual_ would entail their own.
Legend affirms that in the first battles with the Spaniards on the plateau
of Quetzaltenango the _naguals_ of the Indian chiefs fought in the form of
serpents. The _nagual_ of the highest chief was especially conspicuous,
because it had the form of a great bird, resplendent in green plumage. The
Spanish general Pedro de Alvarado killed the bird with his lance, and at
the same moment the Indian chief fell dead to the ground.(574)

(M168) In many tribes of South-Eastern Australia each sex used to regard a
particular species of animals in the same way that a Central American
Indian regarded his _nagual_, but with this difference, that whereas the
Indian apparently knew the individual animal with which his life was bound
up, the Australians only knew that each of their lives was bound up with
some one animal of the species, but they could not say with which. The
result naturally was that every man spared and protected all the animals
of the species with which the lives of the men were bound up; and every
woman spared and protected all the animals of the species with which the
lives of the women were bound up; because no one knew but that the death
of any animal of the respective species might entail his or her own; just
as the killing of the green bird was immediately followed by the death of
the Indian chief, and the killing of the parrot by the death of Punchkin
in the fairy tale. Thus, for example, the Wotjobaluk tribe of
South-Eastern Australia “held that ‘the life of Ngŭnŭngŭnŭt (the Bat) is
the life of a man, and the life of Yártatgŭrk (the Nightjar) is the life
of a woman,’ and that when either of these creatures is killed the life of
some man or of some woman is shortened. In such a case every man or every
woman in the camp feared that he or she might be the victim, and from this
cause great fights arose in this tribe. I learn that in these fights, men
on one side and women on the other, it was not at all certain which would
be victorious, for at times the women gave the men a severe drubbing with
their yamsticks, while often women were injured or killed by spears.” The
Wotjobaluk said that the bat was the man’s “brother” and that the nightjar
was his “wife.”(575) The particular species of animals with which the
lives of the sexes were believed to be respectively bound up varied
somewhat from tribe to tribe. Thus whereas among the Wotjobaluk the bat
was the animal of the men, at Gunbower Creek on the Lower Murray the bat
seems to have been the animal of the women, for the natives would not kill
it for the reason that “if it was killed, one of their lubras [women]
would be sure to die in consequence.”(576) In the Kurnai tribe of
Gippsland the emu-wren (_Stipiturus malachurus_) was the “man’s brother”
and the superb warbler (_Malurus cyaneus_) was the “woman’s sister”; at
the initiation of young men into the tribal mysteries the name of the
emu-wren was invoked over the novices for the purpose of infusing manly
virtue into them.(577) Among the Yuin on the south-eastern coast of
Australia, the “woman’s sister” was the tree-creeper (_Climacteris
scandens_), and the men had both the bat and the emu-wren for their
“brothers.”(578) In the Kulin nation each sex had a pair of “brothers” and
“sisters”; the men had the bat and the emu-wren for their “brothers,” and
the women had the superb warbler and the small nightjar for their
“sisters.”(579) It is notable that in South-Eastern Australia the animals
thus associated with the lives of men and women were generally flying
creatures, either birds or bats. However, in the Port Lincoln tribe of
South Australia the man’s “brother” and the woman’s “sister” seem to have
been identified with the male and female respectively of a species of
lizard; for we read that “a small kind of lizard, the male of which is
called _ibirri_, and the female _waka_, is said to have divided the sexes
in the human species; an event that would appear not to be much approved
of by the natives, since either sex has a mortal hatred against the
opposite sex of these little animals, the men always destroying the _waka_
and the women the _ibirri_.”(580) But whatever the particular sorts of
creature with which the lives of men and women were believed to be bound
up, the belief itself and the fights to which it gave rise are known to
have prevailed over a large part of South-Eastern Australia, and probably
they extended much farther.(581) The belief was a very serious one, and so
consequently were the fights which sprang from it. Thus among some tribes
of Victoria “the common bat belongs to the men, who protect it against
injury, even to the half-killing of their wives for its sake. The fern
owl, or large goatsucker, belongs to the women, and, although a bird of
evil omen, creating terror at night by its cry, it is jealously protected
by them. If a man kills one, they are as much enraged as if it was one of
their children, and will strike him with their long poles.”(582)

(M169) The jealous protection thus afforded by Australian men and women to
bats and owls respectively (for bats and owls seem to be the creatures
usually allotted to the two sexes)(583) is not based upon purely selfish
considerations. For each man believes that not only his own life but the
lives of his father, brothers, sons, and so on are bound up with the lives
of particular bats, and that therefore in protecting the bat species he is
protecting the lives of all his male relations as well as his own.
Similarly, each woman believes that the lives of her mother, sisters,
daughters, and so forth, equally with her own, are bound up with the lives
of particular owls, and that in guarding the owl species she is guarding
the lives of all her female relations besides her own. Now, when men’s
lives are thus supposed to be contained in certain animals, it is obvious
that the animals can hardly be distinguished from the men, or the men from
the animals. If my brother John’s life is in a bat, then, on the one hand,
the bat is my brother as well as John; and, on the other hand, John is in
a sense a bat, since his life is in a bat. Similarly, if my sister Mary’s
life is in an owl, then the owl is my sister and Mary is an owl. This is a
natural enough conclusion, and the Australians have not failed to draw it.
When the bat is the man’s animal, it is called his brother; and when the
owl is the woman’s animal, it is called her sister. And conversely a man
addresses a woman as an owl, and she addresses him as a bat.(584) So with
the other animals allotted to the sexes respectively in other tribes. For
example, among the Kurnai all emu-wrens were “brothers” of the men, and
all the men were emu-wrens; all superb warblers were “sisters” of the
women, and all the women were superb warblers.(585)




§ 4. A Suggested Theory of Totemism.(586)


(M170) But when a savage names himself after an animal, calls it his
brother, and refuses to kill it, the animal is said to be his totem.
Accordingly in the tribes of South-Eastern Australia which we have been
considering the bat and the owl, the emu-wren and the superb warbler, may
properly be described as totems of the sexes. But the assignation of a
totem to a sex is comparatively rare, and has hitherto been discovered
nowhere but in Australia. Far more commonly the totem is appropriated not
to a sex, but to a clan, and is hereditary either in the male or female
line. The relation of an individual to the clan totem does not differ in
kind from his relation to the sex totem; he will not kill it, he speaks of
it as his brother, and he calls himself by its name. Now if the relations
are similar, the explanation which holds good of the one ought equally to
hold good of the other. Therefore the reason why a clan revere a
particular species of animals or plants (for the clan totem may be a
plant) and call themselves after it, would seem to be a belief that the
life of each individual of the clan is bound up with some one animal or
plant of the species, and that his or her death would be the consequence
of killing that particular animal, or destroying that particular plant.
This explanation of totemism squares very well with Sir George Grey’s
definition of a totem or _kobong_ in Western Australia. He says: “A
certain mysterious connection exists between a family and its _kobong_, so
that a member of the family will never kill an animal of the species to
which his _kobong_ belongs, should he find it asleep; indeed he always
kills it reluctantly, and never without affording it a chance to escape.
This arises from the family belief that some one individual of the species
is their nearest friend, to kill whom would be a great crime, and to be
carefully avoided. Similarly, a native who has a vegetable for his
_kobong_ may not gather it under certain circumstances, and at a
particular period of the year.”(587) Here it will be observed that though
each man spares all the animals or plants of the species, they are not all
equally precious to him; far from it, out of the whole species there is
only one which is specially dear to him; but as he does not know which the
dear one is, he is obliged to spare them all from fear of injuring the
one. Again, this explanation of the clan totem harmonizes with the
supposed effect of killing one of the totem species. “One day one of the
blacks killed a crow. Three or four days afterwards a Boortwa (crow)
[_i.e._ a man of the Crow clan] named Larry died. He had been ailing for
some days, but the killing of his _wingong_ [totem] hastened his
death.”(588) Here the killing of the crow caused the death of a man of the
Crow clan, exactly as, in the case of the sex-totems, the killing of a bat
causes the death of a Bat-man or the killing of an owl causes the death of
an Owl-woman. Similarly, the killing of his _nagual_ causes the death of a
Central American Indian, the killing of his bush soul causes the death of
a Calabar negro, the killing of his _tamaniu_ causes the death of a Banks
Islander, and the killing of the animal in which his life is stowed away
causes the death of the giant or warlock in the fairy tale.

(M171) Thus it appears that the story of “The giant who had no heart in
his body” may perhaps furnish the key to the relation which is supposed to
subsist between a man and his totem. The totem, on this theory, is simply
the receptacle in which a man keeps his life, as Punchkin kept his life in
a parrot, and Bidasari kept her soul in a golden fish. It is no valid
objection to this view that when a savage has both a sex totem and a clan
totem his life must be bound up with two different animals, the death of
either of which would entail his own. If a man has more vital places than
one in his body, why, the savage may think, should he not have more vital
places than one outside it? Why, since he can put his life outside
himself, should he not transfer one portion of it to one animal and
another to another? The divisibility of life, or, to put it otherwise, the
plurality of souls, is an idea suggested by many familiar facts, and has
commended itself to philosophers like Plato,(589) as well as to savages.
It finds favour also with the sages of China, who tell us that every human
being is provided with what may be called a male soul (_shen_) and a
female soul (_kwei_), which by their harmonious co-operation compose an
organic unity. However, some Chinese philosophers will have it that each
of the five viscera has its own separate male soul (_shen_); and a Taoist
treatise written about the end of the tenth or beginning of the eleventh
century has even enriched science with a list of about three dozen souls
distributed over the various parts of the human frame; indeed, not content
with a bare catalogue of these souls, the learned author has annexed to
the name and surname of each a brief description of its size and stature,
of the kind of dress in which it is clothed and the shape of hat it
wears.(590) It is only when the notion of a soul, from being a
quasi-scientific hypothesis, becomes a theological dogma that its unity
and indivisibility are insisted upon as essential. The savage, unshackled
by dogma, is free to explain the facts of life by the assumption of as
many souls as he thinks necessary. Hence, for example, the Caribs supposed
that there was one soul in the head, another in the heart, and other souls
at all the places where an artery is felt pulsating.(591) Some of the
Hidatsa Indians explain the phenomena of gradual death, when the
extremities appear dead first, by supposing that man has four souls, and
that they quit the body, not simultaneously, but one after the other,
dissolution being only complete when all four have departed.(592) Some of
the Dyaks of Borneo and the Malays of the Peninsula believe that every man
has seven souls.(593) The Alfoors of Poso in Celebes are of opinion that
he has three.(594) The natives of Laos suppose that the body is the seat
of thirty spirits, which reside in the hands, the feet, the mouth, the
eyes, and so on.(595) Hence, from the primitive point of view, it is
perfectly possible that a savage should have one soul in his sex totem and
another in his clan totem. However, as I have observed, sex totems have
been found nowhere but in Australia; so that as a rule the savage who
practises totemism need not have more than one soul out of his body at a
time.(596)

(M172) If this explanation of the totem as a receptacle in which a man
keeps his soul or one of his souls is correct, we should expect to find
some totemic people of whom it is expressly said that every man amongst
them is believed to keep at least one soul permanently out of his body,
and that the destruction of this external soul is supposed to entail the
death of its owner. Such a people are the Battas of Sumatra. The Battas
are divided into exogamous clans (_margas_) with descent in the male line;
and each clan is forbidden to eat the flesh of a particular animal. One
clan may not eat the tiger, another the ape, another the crocodile,
another the dog, another the cat, another the dove, another the white
buffalo, and another the locust. The reason given by members of a clan for
abstaining from the flesh of the particular animal is either that they are
descended from animals of that species, and that their souls after death
may transmigrate into the animals, or that they or their forefathers have
been under certain obligations to the creatures. Sometimes, but not
always, the clan bears the name of the animal.(597) Thus the Battas have
totemism in full. But, further, each Batta believes that he has seven or,
on a more moderate computation, three souls. One of these souls is always
outside the body, but nevertheless whenever it dies, however far away it
may be at the time, that same moment the man dies also.(598) The writer
who mentions this belief says nothing about the Batta totems; but on the
analogy of the Australian, Central American, and African evidence we may
conjecture that the external soul, whose death entails the death of the
man, is housed in the totemic animal or plant.

(M173) Against this view it can hardly be thought to militate that the
Batta does not in set terms affirm his external soul to be in his totem,
but alleges other grounds for respecting the sacred animal or plant of his
clan. For if a savage seriously believes that his life is bound up with an
external object, it is in the last degree unlikely that he will let any
stranger into the secret. In all that touches his inmost life and beliefs
the savage is exceedingly suspicious and reserved; Europeans have resided
among savages for years without discovering some of their capital articles
of faith, and in the end the discovery has often been the result of
accident.(599) Above all, the savage lives in an intense and perpetual
dread of assassination by sorcery; the most trifling relics of his
person—the clippings of his hair and nails, his spittle, the remnants of
his food, his very name(600)—all these may, he fancies, be turned by the
sorcerer to his destruction, and he is therefore anxiously careful to
conceal or destroy them. But if in matters such as these, which are but
the outposts and outworks of his life, he is so shy and secretive, how
close must be the concealment, how impenetrable the reserve in which he
enshrouds the inner keep and citadel of his being! When the princess in
the fairy tale asks the giant where he keeps his soul, he often gives
false or evasive answers, and it is only after much coaxing and wheedling
that the secret is at last wrung from him. In his jealous reticence the
giant resembles the timid and furtive savage; but whereas the exigencies
of the story demand that the giant should at last reveal his secret, no
such obligation is laid on the savage; and no inducement that can be
offered is likely to tempt him to imperil his soul by revealing its
hiding-place to a stranger. It is therefore no matter for surprise that
the central mystery of the savage’s life should so long have remained a
secret, and that we should be left to piece it together from scattered
hints and fragments and from the recollections of it which linger in fairy
tales.




§ 5. The Ritual of Death and Resurrection.


(M174) This view of totemism throws light on a class of religious rites of
which no adequate explanation, so far as I am aware, has yet been offered.
Amongst many savage tribes, especially such as are known to practise
totemism, it is customary for lads at puberty to undergo certain
initiatory rites, of which one of the commonest is a pretence of killing
the lad and bringing him to life again. Such rites become intelligible if
we suppose that their substance consists in extracting the youth’s soul in
order to transfer it to his totem. For the extraction of his soul would
naturally be supposed to kill the youth or at least to throw him into a
death-like trance, which the savage hardly distinguishes from death. His
recovery would then be attributed either to the gradual recovery of his
system from the violent shock which it had received, or, more probably, to
the infusion into him of fresh life drawn from the totem. Thus the essence
of these initiatory rites, so far as they consist in a simulation of death
and resurrection, would be an exchange of life or souls between the man
and his totem. The primitive belief in the possibility of such an exchange
of souls comes clearly out in the story of the Basque hunter who affirmed
that he had been killed by a bear, but that the bear had, after killing
him, breathed its own soul into him, so that the bear’s body was now dead,
but he himself was a bear, being animated by the bear’s soul.(601) This
revival of the dead hunter as a bear is exactly analogous to what, on the
theory here suggested, is supposed to take place in the ceremony of
killing a lad at puberty and bringing him to life again. The lad dies as a
man and comes to life again as an animal; the animal’s soul is now in him,
and his human soul is in the animal. With good right, therefore, does he
call himself a Bear or a Wolf, etc., according to his totem; and with good
right does he treat the bears or the wolves, etc., as his brethren, since
in these animals are lodged the souls of himself and his kindred.

(M175) Examples of this supposed death and resurrection at initiation are
as follows. In the Wonghi or Wonghibon tribe of New South Wales “the
youths on approaching manhood attend a meeting of the tribe. The
ceremonies of initiation are secret, and at them none but the men of the
tribe who have been initiated attend with the novices. At the spot where
the ceremonies are to be performed, a large oval space is cleared. The old
men of the tribe conduct the ceremonies, and the ‘medicine man’ of the
tribe is the master of them. Part of the proceedings consists in knocking
out a tooth and giving a new designation to the novice, indicating the
change from youth to manhood. When the tooth is knocked out, a loud
humming noise is heard, which is made with an instrument of the following
description: a flat piece of wood is made with serrated edges, and having
a hole at one end, to which a string is attached, and this swung round
produces a humming noise. The uninitiated are not even allowed to see this
instrument. Women are forbidden to be present at these ceremonies, and
should one, by accident or otherwise, witness them, the penalty is death.
The penalty for revealing the secrets is probably the same. When
everything is prepared the women and children are covered with boughs, and
the men retire, with the young fellows who are to be initiated, to a
little distance. It is said that the youths are sent away a short distance
one by one, and that they are each met in turn by a Being, who, so far as
I can understand, is believed to be something between a blackfellow and a
spirit. This Being, called Thuremlin, it is said, takes the youth to a
distance, kills him, and in some instances cuts him up, after which he
restores him to life and knocks out a tooth. Their belief in the power of
Thuremlin is undoubted.”(602)

(M176) The foregoing account, while it applies strictly to one tribe only,
may be regarded as typical of the initiation ceremonies performed on young
men throughout the tribes of South-Eastern and Central Australia, except
that among the Central tribes the practice of knocking out a tooth on
these occasions is replaced by the equally mysterious and much severer
bodily mutilations of circumcision and subincision, which are not
practised by the tribes of the South-East.(603) The instrument whose
humming or booming sound accompanies the critical operation of knocking
out the tooth of the novice, is the now well-known bull-roarer, which
figures in many savage rites of initiation. Its true nature is concealed
from the women and uninitiated lads, who are taught to believe that its
sonorous and long-drawn notes are the voice of the mythical being, often
called Daramulun, who lives in the sky, instituted the rites, and
superintends their performance. The hollow roar of the slat of wood, as it
is swung round and round, “represents the muttering of thunder, and the
thunder is the voice of Daramulun, and therefore its sound is of the most
sacred character. Umbara once said to me, ‘Thunder is the voice of him
(pointing upward to the sky) calling on the rain to fall and make
everything grow up new.’ ”(604) This supposed resemblance of the sound to
thunder probably explains a certain use which the Dieri, a tribe of
Central Australia, made of the instrument. When a young man had passed
through an initiatory rite, which consisted in cutting a row of gashes in
his back, he was given a bull-roarer, and when he went out in search of
game, he used to twirl the implement in the belief that by doing so, while
his wounds were still unhealed, he created a good harvest of snakes,
lizards, and other reptiles, which the natives employ as food; but on the
contrary they imagined that these supplies of food would be cut off for
ever, if a woman were to see a bull-roarer which had been swung at the
rites of initiation.(605) No doubt these savages, living in a parched
wilderness where the existence of plants and animals depends on rare and
irregular showers,(606) have observed that the fall of rain is regularly
followed by a great and sudden increase in the food supply, and that this
increase is most marked after violent thunder-storms. Hence by making a
noise like thunder with the help of bull-roarers they probably hope, on
the principle of imitative magic, to bring on a thunder-storm and with it
a fertilizing deluge of rain.

(M177) For the same reason in the parched and torrid regions of Arizona
and New Mexico the Indians make great use of the bull-roarer in their
ceremonies for procuring rain. For example, when Captain Bourke was at the
Pueblo Indian village of Walpi in the month of August, 1881, he saw the
instrument in use at the snake dance. “The medicine-men twirled it
rapidly, and with a uniform motion, about the head and from front to rear,
and succeeded in faithfully imitating the sound of a gust of rain-laden
wind. As explained to me by one of the medicine-men, by making this sound
they compelled the wind and rain to come to the aid of the crops. At a
later date I found it in use among the Apache, and for the same
purpose.”(607) The Zuñi Indians of New Mexico whirl bull-roarers “to
create enthusiasm” among the mythical beings who are supposed to cause
rain, or for the purpose of making them gather in the air over the
village.(608) In a Zuñi rain-making ceremony, while one medicine-man
whirls a bull-roarer, another whips up a mixture of water and meal into
frothy suds symbolic of clouds, and a third plays a flute. “All this is an
invocation to the gods for rain—the one great and perpetual prayer of the
people of this arid land.”(609) This supposed connexion of the instrument
with thunder-storms explains why the Navajos of the same torrid country
say that the bull-roarer should always be made of wood from a pine-tree
that has been struck by lightning;(610) and why the Bakairi of Brazil call
the unpretentious instrument by a name that means “thunder and
lightning.”(611) The resemblance of the sound of the bull-roarer to the
roaring of the wind is doubtless the reason why in the Torres Straits
Islands wizards whirled bull-roarers in order to make the wind to
blow,(612) and why, when Caffres wish for calm weather, they forbid boys
to play with bull-roarers, because they think that the booming noise
attracts a gale of wind.(613) Hence, as an instrument whose sound
resembles the rumbling of thunder, the roar of wind, and the patter of
rain, the bull-roarer is naturally swung by agricultural savages as a
powerful means of promoting the growth of the crops. In the island of
Kiwai, off the mouth of the Fly River in British New Guinea, bull-roarers
are whirled in order to ensure a good crop of yams, sweet potatoes, and
bananas.(614) Similarly the Yabim of German New Guinea imagine that by
twirling bull-roarers while they mention the names of the dead they
produce a fine crop of taro.(615)

(M178) But why among the Dieri of Central Australia should the power of
attracting rain and so ensuring a supply of food be specially attributed
to a young man whose back has just been scored and whose wounds are still
raw? Perhaps the reason may be that the blood dripping from the gashes is
thought to resemble rain and therefore to be endowed with a magical
potency of drawing showers from the clouds. The conjecture is confirmed by
the observation that the Dieri actually do bleed themselves avowedly for
the purpose of making rain, and they are not the only people in Australia
and elsewhere who have resorted to this singular mode of putting an end to
a drought.(616) Altogether the foregoing evidence seems to hint that the
whole virtue of the bull-roarer resides, as its English name implies, in
its voice, and that its original significance was simply that of a magical
instrument for causing thunder, wind, and rain.(617) When these natural
phenomena came to be personified as spirits, the sound of the bull-roarer
was naturally interpreted as their voice.

(M179) Among the tribes on the Brisbane River in Queensland the weird
sound of the bull-roarers swung at initiation was believed by the women
and children to be made by the wizards in swallowing the boys and bringing
them up again as young men. The Ualaroi of the Upper Darling River said
that the boy met a ghost, who killed him and brought him to life again as
a young man. Among the natives on the Lower Lachlan and Murray Rivers it
was Thrumalun (Daramulun) who was thought to slay and resuscitate the
novices.(618) In the Arunta tribe of Central Australia, at the moment when
the lads are being circumcised, the bull-roarer sounds in the darkness all
round the ceremonial ground; and the awestruck women, listening in the
distance, believe that it is the voice of a spirit called Twanyirika, who
lives in wild and inaccessible regions and only comes out when a youth is
initiated. They think that the spirit enters the body of the lad after the
operation of circumcision has been performed and carries him away into the
bush, keeping him there till his wound is healed. While the newly
circumcised youth is out in the wilds, carefully secluded from the sight
of the women and children, he constantly sounds the bull-roarer. When he
has recovered from the wound, the spirit leaves him and he returns to camp
an initiated, or rather partially initiated, man. He has learned, at all
events, the secret of Twanyirika; for no sooner is he circumcised than an
elder brother comes up to him, and placing in his hands a bundle of sacred
sticks or stones (_churinga_), says, “Here is Twanyirika, of whom you have
heard so much. They are _churinga_ and will help you to heal quickly;
guard them well, or else you and your mothers and sisters will be
killed.”(619)

(M180) In this account nothing is said about killing the lad and bringing
him to life again; but a belief in the death and resurrection of the
novices at initiation is expressly affirmed to be part of the feminine
creed in other tribes of Central Australia. Thus in the Unmatjera tribe
both women and children believe that Twanyirika kills the youth and
afterwards brings him to life again during the period of initiation. The
rites of initiation in this tribe, as in the other Central tribes,
comprise the operations of circumcision and subincision; and as soon as
the second of these has been performed on him, the young man receives from
his father a sacred stick (_churinga_), with which, he is told, his spirit
was associated in the remotest past. While he is out in the bush
recovering from his wounds, he must swing the bull-roarer, or a being who
lives up in the sky will swoop down and carry him off.(620) In the
Urabunna tribe of Central Australia a lad at initiation receives a
bull-roarer, the very name of which (_chimbaliri_) is never heard by women
and children. They are taught to believe that the sound of it is the voice
of a spirit called Witurna, who takes the boy away, cuts out all his
bowels, provides him with a new set, and brings him back an initiated
youth. The lad is warned that on no account may he allow a woman or a
child to see the sacred stick, else he and his mother and sisters will
fall down as dead as stones.(621) In the Binbinga tribe, on the western
coast of the Gulf of Carpentaria, the women and children believe that the
noise of the bull-roarer at initiation is made by a spirit named
Katajalina, who lives in an ant-hill and comes out and eats up the boy,
afterwards restoring him to life.(622) Similarly among their neighbours
the Anula the women imagine that the droning sound of the bull-roarer is
produced by a spirit called Gnabaia, who swallows the lads at initiation
and afterwards disgorges them in the form of initiated men. In this tribe,
after a lad has been subincised as well as circumcised, he is presented
with a bull-roarer and informed that the instrument was originally made by
the whirlwind, that it is sacred or tabooed, and that it may on no account
be shewn to women or children.(623)

(M181) Among the tribes settled on the southern coast of New South Wales,
of which the Coast Murring tribe may be regarded as typical, the drama of
resurrection from the dead was exhibited in a graphic form to the novices
at initiation. Before they were privileged to witness this edifying
spectacle they had been raised to the dignity of manhood by an old man,
who promoted them to their new status by the simple process of knocking a
tooth out of the mouth of each with the help of a wooden chisel and
hammer. The ceremony of the resurrection has been described for us in
detail by an eye-witness, the late Dr. A. W. Howitt, one of the best
authorities on the customs of the Australian aborigines. The scene
selected for the sacred drama was the bottom of a deep valley, where a
sluggish stream wound through a bed of tall sharp-edged sedge. Though the
hour was between ten and eleven o’clock in the morning, the sun had but
just peeped over the mountains which enclosed the valley like a wall on
the east; and while the upper slopes, clothed with a forest of tall rowan
trees, looked warm and bright in sunshine, which shot between the grey
stems and under the light feathery foliage of the trees, all the bottom of
the dell was still in deep shadow and dank with the moisture of the
night’s rain. While the novices rested and warmed themselves at a
crackling fire, the initiated men laid their heads together, prepared a
stock of decorations made of stringy bark, and dug a grave. There was some
discussion as to the shape of the grave, but the man who was to be buried
in it decided the question by declaring that he would be laid in it on his
back at full length. He was a man of the eagle-hawk totem and belonged to
the tribal subdivision called Yibai. So while two men under his directions
were digging the grave with sticks in the friable granitic soil, he
superintended the costume of the other actors in the drama. Sheets of bark
were beaten out into fleeces of stringy fibre, and in these garments six
performers were clothed from head to foot so that not even a glimpse could
be obtained of their faces. Four of them were tied together by a cord
which was fastened to the back of their heads, and each of them carried
two pieces of bark in his hands. The other two walked free, but hobbled
along bent double and supporting their tottery steps on staves to mark the
weight of years; for they played the part of two medicine-men of venerable
age and great magical power. By this time the grave was ready, and the
eagle-hawk man stretched himself in it at full length on a bed of leaves,
his head resting on a rolled-up blanket, just as if he were a corpse. In
his two hands, crossed on his chest, he held the stem of a young tree
(_Persoonia linearis_), which had been pulled up by the roots and now
stood planted on his chest, so that the top of it rose several feet above
the level of the ground. A light covering of dried sticks filled the
grave, and dead leaves, tufts of grass, and small plants were artistically
arranged over them so as to complete the illusion. All being now ready,
the novices were led by their sisters’ husbands to the grave and placed in
a row beside it, while a singer, perched on the trunk of a fallen tree at
the head of the grave, crooned a melancholy ditty, the song of Yibai.
Though the words of the song consisted merely of a monotonous repetition
of the words _Burrin-burrin Yibai_, that is, Stringy-bark Yibai, they were
understood to refer to the eagle-hawk totem, as well as to the tribal
subdivision of the buried man. Then to the slow, plaintive but well-marked
air of the song the actors began to move forward, winding among the trees,
logs, and rocks. On came the four disguised men, stepping in time to the
music, swaying from side to side, and clashing their bark clappers
together at every step, while beside them hobbled the two old men keeping
a little aloof to mark their superior dignity. They represented a party of
medicine-men, guided by two reverend seniors, who had come on pilgrimage
to the grave of a brother medicine-man, him of the eagle-hawk totem, who
lay buried here in the lonely valley, now illumined by the warm rays of
the sun; for by this time the morning was wearing on to noon. When the
little procession, chanting an invocation to Daramulun, had defiled from
among the rocks and trees into the open, it drew up on the side of the
grave opposite to the novices, the two old men taking up a position in the
rear of the dancers. For some time the dance and song went on till the
tree that seemed to grow from the grave began to quiver. “Look there!”
cried the sisters’ husbands to the novices, pointing to the trembling
leaves. As they looked, the tree quivered more and more, then was
violently agitated and fell to the ground, while amid the excited dancing
of the dancers and the chanting of the tuneful choir the supposed dead man
spurned from him the superincumbent mass of sticks and leaves, and
springing to his feet danced his magic dance in the grave itself, and
exhibited in his mouth the magic substances which he was supposed to have
received from Daramulun in person.(624)

(M182) In some tribes of Central and Northern Australia the initiation of
a medicine-man into the mysteries of his craft is supposed to be
accomplished by certain spirits, who kill him, cut out his internal
organs, and having provided him with a new set bring him to life again.
Sometimes the spirits kindly replace the man’s human organs by their own
spiritual organs; sometimes along with the new organs they insert magical
stones in his body or even a serpent, and the stones or the serpents
naturally endow the new wizards with marvellous powers. In some tribes the
initiation takes place in a cave, where the spirits dwell. After the man
has been restored to life with a new heart, a new pair of lungs, and so
forth, he returns to his people in a more or less dazed condition, which
his friends may at first mistake for insanity, though afterwards they
recognize its true character as inspiration.(625) One eminent medical
practitioner in the Unmatjera tribe assured Messrs. Spencer and Gillen
that when he came to himself after the operation, which in his case was
performed by an aged doctor, he had completely forgotten who he was and
all about his past life. After a time his venerable friend led him back to
the camp and shewed it to him, and said, “That woman there is your wife,”
for she had gone clean out of his head.(626) We shall see presently that
this temporary oblivion, a natural effect of the shock to the nervous
system produced by resuscitation from the dead, is characteristic of
novices under similar circumstances in other lands. Among the Arunta of
Alice Springs the cave where the mystic initiation takes place is a
limestone cavern in a range of hills which rises to the north of the wide
level expanse known as the Emily plain. None of the ordinary natives would
dare to set foot in the awful grotto, which they believe to extend for
miles into the bowels of the earth and to be tenanted by certain ancestral
spirits, who live there in perpetual sunshine and amid streams of running
water, an earthly paradise by contrast with the arid sun-scorched steppes
and barren mountains outside. White men have explored the cave, and if
they perceived no spirits, they found bats in plenty. The man who aspires
to the rank of a wizard lies down at the mouth of the cave and falls
asleep; and as he sleeps one of the ancestral spirits steals up to him and
drives an invisible spear through his neck from back to front. The point
of the spear comes out through the man’s tongue, leaving a hole through
which you could put your little finger, and this hole the man retains for
the rest of his natural life, or at least so long as he retains his
magical powers; for if the hole should close up, these spiritual gifts and
graces would depart from him. A second thrust from the invisible spear
transfixes the man’s head from ear to ear; he drops down dead, and is
immediately transported into the depths of the cavern, where the spirits
dissect his dead body, extract the old viscera, and replace them with a
new set in the manner already described.(627)

(M183) In this account of the manner in which medicine-men obtain their
magical powers not only are the supposed death and resurrection of the
novice worthy of attention, but also the exchange of internal organs which
in the Binbinga and Mara tribes is supposed to be effected between the man
and the spirit;(628) for this exchange resembles that which, on the theory
I have suggested, may be thought to take place between a lad and his totem
at the ceremonies of initiation which mark the momentous transition from
boyhood to manhood. Further, the bodily mutilation which is the visible
sign of the medicine-man’s initiation (for however the hole may be made it
certainly exists in the tongues of regular Arunta practitioners)
corresponds to the bodily mutilations of other sorts, which in many savage
tribes attest to the world that the mutilated persons are fullgrown men.
What the precise meaning of such mutilations may be, still remains very
obscure; but they seem in some cases to be directly associated with the
conception of death and resurrection.

(M184) This association certainly comes out plainly in the rites of
initiation through which in some parts of New Guinea all lads must pass
before they attain to the status of adults. The rites are observed by a
group of tribes who occupy contiguous territories about Finsch Harbour and
Huon Gulf in German New Guinea. The tribes in question are the Yabim, the
Bukaua, the Kai, and the Tami. All of them except the Kai belong to the
Melanesian stock and are therefore presumably immigrants from the
adjoining islands; but the Kai, who inhabit the rugged, densely wooded,
and rainy mountains inland from Finsch Harbour, belong to the aboriginal
Papuan stock and differ from their neighbours in speech as well as in
appearance. Yet the rites of initiation which all these tribes celebrate
and the beliefs which they associate with them are so similar that a
single description will apply accurately enough to them all. All of them,
like many Australian tribes, require every male member of the tribe to be
circumcised before he ranks as a full-grown man; and the tribal
initiation, of which circumcision is the central feature, is conceived by
them, as by some Australian tribes, as a process of being swallowed and
disgorged by a mythical monster, whose voice is heard in the humming sound
of the bull-roarer. Indeed the New Guinea tribes not only impress this
belief on the minds of women and children, but enact it in a dramatic form
at the actual rites of initiation, at which no woman or uninitiated person
may be present. For this purpose a hut about a hundred feet long is
erected either in the village or in a lonely part of the forest. It is
modelled in the shape of the mythical monster; at the end which represents
his head it is high, and it tapers away at the other end. A betel-palm,
grubbed up with the roots, stands for the backbone of the great being and
its clustering fibres for his hair; and to complete the resemblance the
butt end of the building is adorned by a native artist with a pair of
goggle eyes and a gaping mouth. When after a tearful parting from their
mothers and women folk, who believe or pretend to believe in the monster
that swallows their dear ones, the awe-struck novices are brought face to
face with this imposing structure, the huge creature emits a sullen growl,
which is in fact no other than the humming note of bull-roarers swung by
men concealed in the monster’s belly. The actual process of deglutition is
variously enacted. Among the Tami it is represented by causing the
candidates to defile past a row of men who hold bull-roarers over their
heads; among the Kai it is more graphically set forth by making them pass
under a scaffold on which stands a man, who makes a gesture of swallowing
and takes in fact a gulp of water as each trembling novice passes beneath
him. But the present of a pig, opportunely offered for the redemption of
the youth, induces the monster to relent and disgorge his victim; the man
who represents the monster accepts the gift vicariously, a gurgling sound
is heard, and the water which had just been swallowed descends in a jet on
the novice. This signifies that the young man has been released from the
monster’s belly. However, he has now to undergo the more painful and
dangerous operation of circumcision. It follows immediately, and the cut
made by the knife of the operator is explained to be a bite or scratch
which the monster inflicted on the novice in spewing him out of his
capacious maw. While the operation is proceeding, a prodigious noise is
made by the swinging of bull-roarers to represent the roar of the dreadful
being who is in the act of swallowing the young men.

(M185) When, as sometimes happens, a lad dies from the effect of the
operation, he is buried secretly in the forest, and his sorrowing mother
is told that the monster has a pig’s stomach as well as a human stomach,
and that unfortunately her son slipped into the wrong stomach, from which
it was impossible to extricate him. After they have been circumcised the
lads must remain for some months in seclusion, shunning all contact with
women and even the sight of them. They live in the long hut which
represents the monster’s belly; among the Yabim they beguile the tedium of
this enforced leisure by weaving baskets and playing on certain sacred
flutes, which are never used except on these occasions. The instruments
are of two patterns. One is called the male and the other the female; and
they are believed to be married to each other. No woman may see these
mysterious flutes; if she did, she would die. When the long seclusion is
over, the lads, now ranking as initiated men, are brought back with great
pomp and ceremony to the village, where they are received with sobs and
tears of joy by the women, as if the grave had given up its dead. At first
the young men keep their eyes rigidly closed or even sealed with a plaster
of chalk, and they appear not to understand the words of command which are
given them by an elder. Gradually, however, they come to themselves as if
awaking from a stupor, and next day they bathe and wash off the crust of
white chalk with which their bodies had been coated.(629)

(M186) It is highly significant that all these tribes of New Guinea apply
the same word to the bull-roarer and to the monster, who is supposed to
swallow the novices at circumcision, and whose fearful roar is represented
by the hum of the harmless wooden instruments. The word in the speech of
the Yabim and Bukaua is _balum_; in that of the Kai it is _ngosa_; and in
that of the Tami it is _kani_. Further, it deserves to be noted that in
three languages out of the four the same word which is applied to the
bull-roarer and to the monster means also a ghost or spirit of the dead,
while in the fourth language (the Kai) it signifies “grandfather.” From
this it seems to follow that the being who swallows and disgorges the
novices at initiation is believed to be a powerful ghost or ancestral
spirit, and that the bull-roarer, which bears his name, is his material
representative. That would explain the jealous secrecy with which the
sacred implement is kept from the sight of women. While they are not in
use, the bull-roarers are stowed away in the men’s club-houses, which no
woman may enter; indeed no woman or uninitiated person may set eyes on a
bull-roarer under pain of death.(630) Similarly among the Tugeri or
Kaya-Kaya, a large Papuan tribe on the south coast of Dutch New Guinea,
the name of the bull-roarer, which they call _sosom_, is given to a
mythical giant, who is supposed to appear every year with the south-east
monsoon. When he comes, a festival is held in his honour and bull-roarers
are swung. Boys are presented to the giant, and he kills them, but
considerately brings them to life again.(631)

(M187) In certain districts of Viti Levu, the largest of the Fijian
Islands, the drama of death and resurrection used to be acted with much
solemnity before the eyes of young men at initiation. The ceremonies were
performed in certain sacred precincts of oblong shape, enclosed by low
walls or rows of stones but open to the sky. Such a precinct was called a
_Nanga_, and it might be described as a temple dedicated to the worship of
ancestors; for in it sacrifices and prayers were offered to the ancestral
spirits. For example, the first-fruits of the yam harvest were regularly
presented with great ceremony to the souls of the dead in the temple
before the bulk of the crop was dug for the people’s use, and no man might
taste of the new yams until this solemn offering had been made. The yams
so offered were piled up in the sacred enclosure and left to rot there; if
any man were so bold as to eat of these dedicated fruits, it was believed
that he would go mad.(632) Any initiated man had the right of approaching
the ancestral spirits at any time in their holy place, where he would pray
to them for help and protection and propitiate them by laying down his
offering of a pig, or yams, or eels, or cloth, or what not.(633) Of these
offerings perhaps the most curious was that of the foreskins of young men,
who were circumcised as a sort of vicarious sacrifice or atonement for the
recovery of a sick relative, it might be either their father or one of
their father’s brothers. The bloody foreskins, stuck in the cleft of a
split reed, were presented to the ancestral gods in the temple by the
chief priest, who prayed for the sick man’s recovery.(634) The temple or
sacred enclosure was divided into two or three compartments by cross walls
of stones, and the inmost of these compartments was the
_Nanga-tambu-tambu_, or Holy of Holies.(635)

(M188) In these open-air temples of the dead the ceremony of initiating
young men was performed as a rule every year at the end of October or the
beginning of November, which was the commencement of the Fijian New Year;
hence the novices who were initiated at that season went by the name of
_Vilavou_ or New Year’s Men. The exact time for celebrating the rite was
determined by the flowering of the _ndrala_ tree (_Erythrina_); but it
roughly coincided with the New Year of the Tahitians and Hawaiians, who
dated the commencement of the year by observation of the Pleiades. The
highlanders of Fiji, who alone celebrated these rites, did not trouble
their heads about the stars.(636) As a preparation for the solemnity the
heads of the novices were shaved and their beards, if they had any, were
carefully eradicated. On four successive days they went in procession to
the temple and there deposited in the Holy of Holies their offerings of
cloth and weapons to the ancestral spirits. But on the fifth and great day
of the festival, when they again entered the sacred ground, they beheld a
sight which froze their souls with horror. Stretched on the ground was a
row of dead or seemingly dead and murdered men, their bodies cut open and
covered with blood, their entrails protruding. At the further end sat the
High Priest, regarding them with a stony glare, and to reach him the
trembling novices had to crawl on hands and knees over the ghastly
blood-bedabbled corpses that lay between. Having done so they drew up in a
line before him. Suddenly he blurted out a piercing yell, at which the
counterfeit dead men started to their feet and ran down to the river to
cleanse themselves from the blood and guts of pigs with which they were
beslobbered. The High Priest now unbent his starched dignity, and skipping
from side to side cried in stridulous tones, “Where are the people of my
enclosure? Are they gone to Tonga Levu? Are they gone to the deep sea?” He
was soon answered by a deep-mouthed chant, and back from the river marched
the dead men come to life, clean, fresh, and garlanded, swaying their
bodies in time to the music of their solemn hymn. They took their places
in front of the novices and a religious silence ensued. Such was the drama
of death and resurrection. It was immediately followed by a sacramental
meal. Four old men of the highest order of initiates now entered the Holy
of Holies. The first bore a cooked yam carefully wrapt up in leaves so
that no part of it should touch the hands of the bearer: the second
carried a piece of baked pork similarly enveloped: the third held a
drinking-cup full of water and wrapt round with native cloth; and the
fourth bore a napkin of the same stuff. The first elder passed along the
row of novices putting the end of the yam into each of their mouths, and
as he did so each of them nibbled a morsel of the sacred food: the second
elder did the same with the hallowed pork: the third elder followed with
the holy water, with which each novice merely wetted his lips; and the
fourth elder wiped all their mouths with his napkin. Then the high priest
or one of the elders addressed the young men, warning them solemnly
against the sacrilege of betraying to the profane vulgar any of the high
mysteries which they had witnessed, and threatening all such traitors with
the vengeance of the gods. The general intention of the initiatory rites
seems to have been to introduce the young men to the worshipful spirits of
the dead at their temple, and to cement the bond between them by a
sacramental meal.(637)

(M189) The people of Rook, an island between New Guinea and New Britain,
hold festivals at which one or two disguised men, their heads covered with
wooden masks, go dancing through the village, followed by all the other
men. They demand that the circumcised boys who have not yet been swallowed
by Marsaba (the devil) shall be given up to them. The boys, trembling and
shrieking, are delivered to them, and must creep between the legs of the
disguised men. Then the procession moves through the village again, and
announces that Marsaba has eaten up the boys, and will not disgorge them
till he receives a present of pigs, taro, and so forth. So all the
villagers, according to their means, contribute provisions, which are then
consumed in the name of Marsaba.(638) In New Britain all males are members
of an association called the Duk-duk. The boys are admitted to it very
young, but are not fully initiated till their fourteenth year, when they
receive from the Tubuvan or Tubuan a terrible blow with a cane, which is
supposed to kill them. The Tubuan and the Duk-duk are two disguised men
who represent cassowaries. They dance with a short hopping step in
imitation of the cassowary. Each of them wears a huge hat like an
extinguisher, woven of grass or palm-fibres; it is six feet high, and
descends to the wearer’s shoulders, completely concealing his head and
face. From the neck to the knees the man’s body is hidden by a crinoline
made of the leaves of a certain tree fastened on hoops, one above the
other. The Tubuan is regarded as a female, the Duk-duk as a male. The
former is supposed to breed and give birth to the novices, who are
accordingly looked upon as newly born. The female masks are very plain
compared with the male masks. Two of them are regularly kept from year to
year in order that they may annually breed new Duk-duks. When they are
wanted for this purpose they are brought forth, decorated afresh, and
provided with new leaf dresses to match. According to one account, women
and children may not look upon one of these disguised men or they would
die. So strong is this superstition among them that they will run away and
hide as soon as they hear him coming, for they are aware of his approach
through a peculiar shrieking noise he utters as he goes along. In the
district of Berara, where red is the Duk-duk colour, the mere sight of a
red cloth is enough to make the women take to their heels. The common herd
are not allowed to know who the masker is. If he stumbles and his hat
falls to the ground, disclosing his face, or his crinoline is torn to
tatters by the bushes, his attendants immediately surround him to hide his
person from the vulgar eye. According to one writer, indeed, the performer
who drops his mask, or lets it fall so that the sharp point at the top
sticks in the ground, is put to death. The institution of the Duk-duk is
common to the neighbouring islands of New Ireland and the Duke of
York.(639)

(M190) Among the Galelareese and Tobelorese of Halmahera, an island to the
west of New Guinea, boys go through a form of initiation, part of which
seems to consist in a pretence of begetting them anew. When a number of
boys have reached the proper age, their parents agree to celebrate the
ceremony at their common expense, and they invite others to be present at
it. A shed is erected, and two long tables are placed in it, with benches
to match, one for the men and one for the women. When all the preparations
have been made for a feast, a great many skins of the rayfish, and some
pieces of a wood which imparts a red colour to water, are taken to the
shed. A priest or elder causes a vessel to be placed in the sight of all
the people, and then begins, with significant gestures, to rub a piece of
the wood with the ray-skin. The powder so produced is put in the vessel,
and at the same time the name of one of the boys is called out. The same
proceeding is repeated for each boy. Then the vessels are filled with
water, after which the feast begins. At the third cock-crow the priest
smears the faces and bodies of the boys with the red water, which
represents the blood shed at the perforation of the _hymen_. Towards
daybreak the boys are taken to the wood, and must hide behind the largest
trees. The men, armed with sword and shield, accompany them, dancing and
singing. The priest knocks thrice on each of the trees behind which a boy
is hiding. All day the boys stay in the wood, exposing themselves to the
heat of the sun as much as possible. In the evening they bathe and return
to the shed, where the women supply them with food.(640)

(M191) In the west of Ceram boys at puberty are admitted to the Kakian
association.(641) Modern writers have commonly regarded this association
as primarily a political league instituted to resist foreign domination.
In reality its objects are purely religious and social, though it is
possible that the priests may have occasionally used their powerful
influence for political ends. The society is in fact merely one of those
widely-diffused primitive institutions, of which a chief object is the
initiation of young men. In recent years the true nature of the
association has been duly recognized by the distinguished Dutch
ethnologist, J. G. F. Riedel. The Kakian house is an oblong wooden shed,
situated under the darkest trees in the depth of the forest, and is built
to admit so little light that it is impossible to see what goes on in it.
Every village has such a house. Thither the boys who are to be initiated
are conducted blindfold, followed by their parents and relations. Each boy
is led by the hand by two men, who act as his sponsors or guardians,
looking after him during the period of initiation. When all are assembled
before the shed, the high priest calls aloud upon the devils. Immediately
a hideous uproar is heard to proceed from the shed. It is made by men with
bamboo trumpets, who have been secretly introduced into the building by a
back door, but the women and children think it is made by the devils, and
are much terrified. Then the priests enter the shed, followed by the boys,
one at a time. As soon as each boy has disappeared within the precincts, a
dull chopping sound is heard, a fearful cry rings out, and a sword or
spear, dripping with blood, is thrust through the roof of the shed. This
is a token that the boy’s head has been cut off, and that the devil has
carried him away to the other world, there to regenerate and transform
him. So at sight of the bloody sword the mothers weep and wail, crying
that the devil has murdered their children. In some places, it would seem,
the boys are pushed through an opening made in the shape of a crocodile’s
jaws or a cassowary’s beak, and it is then said that the devil has
swallowed them. The boys remain in the shed for five or nine days. Sitting
in the dark, they hear the blast of the bamboo trumpets, and from time to
time the sound of musket shots and the clash of swords. Every day they
bathe, and their faces and bodies are smeared with a yellow dye, to give
them the appearance of having been swallowed by the devil. During his stay
in the Kakian house each boy has one or two crosses tattooed with thorns
on his breast or arm. When they are not sleeping, the lads must sit in a
crouching posture without moving a muscle. As they sit in a row
cross-legged, with their hands stretched out, the chief takes his trumpet,
and placing the mouth of it on the hands of each lad, speaks through it in
strange tones, imitating the voice of the spirits. He warns the lads,
under pain of death, to observe the rules of the Kakian society, and never
to reveal what has passed in the Kakian house. The novices are also told
by the priests to behave well to their blood relations, and are taught the
traditions and secrets of the tribe.

(M192) Meantime the mothers and sisters of the lads have gone home to weep
and mourn. But in a day or two the men who acted as guardians or sponsors
to the novices return to the village with the glad tidings that the devil,
at the intercession of the priests, has restored the lads to life. The men
who bring this news come in a fainting state and daubed with mud, like
messengers freshly arrived from the nether world. Before leaving the
Kakian house, each lad receives from the priest a stick adorned at both
ends with cock’s or cassowary’s feathers. The sticks are supposed to have
been given to the lads by the devil at the time when he restored them to
life, and they serve as a token that the youths have been in the spirit
land. When they return to their homes they totter in their walk, and enter
the house backward, as if they had forgotten how to walk properly; or they
enter the house by the back door. If a plate of food is given to them,
they hold it upside down. They remain dumb, indicating their wants by
signs only. All this is to shew that they are still under the influence of
the devil or the spirits. Their sponsors have to teach them all the common
acts of life, as if they were new-born children. Further, upon leaving the
Kakian house the boys are strictly forbidden to eat of certain fruits
until the next celebration of the rites has taken place. And for twenty or
thirty days their hair may not be combed by their mothers or sisters. At
the end of that time the high priest takes them to a lonely place in the
forest, and cuts off a lock of hair from the crown of each of their heads.
After these initiatory rites the lads are deemed men, and may marry; it
would be a scandal if they married before.

(M193) In the region of the Lower Congo a simulation of death and
resurrection is, or rather used to be, practised by the members of a guild
or secret society called _ndembo_. The society had nothing to do with
puberty or circumcision, though the custom of circumcision is common in
the country. Young people and adults of both sexes might join the guild;
after initiation they were called “the Knowing Ones” (_nganga_). To found
a branch of the society it was necessary to have an albino, who, whether a
child, lad, or adult, was the acknowledged head of the society.(642) The
ostensible reason for starting a branch of the guild in a district was
commonly an epidemic of sickness, “and the idea was to go into _ndembo_ to
die, and after an indefinite period, from a few months to two or three
years, to be resurrected with a new body not liable to the sickness then
troubling the countryside. Another reason for starting a _ndembo_ was a
dearth of children in a district. It was believed that good luck in having
children would attend those who entered or died _ndembo_. But the
underlying idea was the same, _i.e._ to get a ‘new body’ that would be
healthy and perform its functions properly.” The quarters of the society
were always a stockaded enclosure in a great thick forest; a gate of
planks painted yellow and red gave access to it, and within there was an
assemblage of huts. The place was fenced to keep intruders from prying
into the mysteries of the guild, and it was near water. Uninitiated
persons might walk on the public roads through the forest, but if they
were caught in bye-paths or hunting in the woods, they were flogged,
fined, and sometimes killed. They might not even look upon the persons of
those who had “died _ndembo_”; hence when these sanctified persons were
roving about the forest or going to the river, the booming notes of a drum
warned the profane vulgar to keep out of their way.

(M194) When the stockade and the huts in the forest were ready to receive
all who wished to put off the old man or woman and to put on the new, one
of the initiates gave the sign and the aspirant after the higher life
dropped down like dead in some public place, it might be the market or the
centre of the town where there were plenty of people to witness the
edifying spectacle. The initiates immediately spread a pall over him or
her, beat the earth round about the pretended corpse with plantain stalks,
chanted incantations, fired guns, and cut capers. Then they carried the
seemingly dead body away into the forest and disappeared with it into the
stockade. The spectacle proved infectious; one after another in the
emotional, excitable crowd of negroes followed the example, dropped down
like dead, and were carried off, sometimes in a real cataleptic state. In
this way fifty to a hundred or more novices might feign death and be
transported into the sacred enclosure. There they were supposed not only
to die but to rot till only a single bone of their body remained, of which
the initiated had to take the greatest care in expectation of the joyful
resurrection that was soon to follow. However, though they were both dead
and rotten, they consumed a large quantity of food, which their credulous
relatives brought to them in baskets, toiling with the loads on their
backs over the long paths through the forest in the sweltering heat of the
tropical day. If the relations failed to discharge this pious and
indispensable duty, their kinsman in the sacred enclosure ran a risk of
dying in good earnest, or rather of being spirited away to a distant town
and sold as a slave.

(M195) Shut up within the stockade for months or years, the men and women,
boys and girls, dispensed with the superfluity of clothes, rubbed their
naked bodies with red ochre or powdered camwood instead, and gave
themselves up to orgies of unbridled lust. Some feeble attempts were made
to teach them the rudiments of a secret language, but the vocabulary was
small and its principles lacking in ingenuity. The time during which this
seclusion lasted might vary from three months to three years. When the
circumstances which had furnished the pretext for instituting the society
had passed away, whether it was that the epidemic had died out or that the
birth-rate had sensibly increased, murmurs would begin to be heard among
friends and relatives in the town, who did not see why they should be
taxed any longer to support a set of idle and dissolute ruffians in the
forest, and why they should trudge day after day in the sweat of their
brow to carry provisions to them. So the supplies would begin to run
short, and whenever that happened the mystery of the resurrection was sure
to follow very soon after.

(M196) Accordingly it would be announced that on a certain market-day the
new initiates, now raised from the dead, would reveal themselves in all
their glory to the astonished gaze of the public. The glad tidings were
received with enthusiasm, and crowds assembled from all the country round
about to welcome those who had come back from the world beyond the grave.
When all were gathered in eager expectancy in the market-place, the sounds
of distant music would be heard, and soon the gay procession would defile
into the open square and march round it, while the dusky skins, reddened
with camwood powder, glistened in the sunshine, the gay garments fluttered
in the wind, and the tassels of palm-leaf fibre dangled at every arm. In
the crowd of spectators many parents would recognize their children in the
marching figures of the procession, and girls and boys would point out
their brothers and sisters and eagerly call out their names. But in the
stolid faces of the initiates not an eye would gleam with recognition, not
a muscle would twitch with an involuntary expression of delight; for
having just been raised from the dead they were supposed to know nothing
of their former life, of friends and relations, of home and country. There
might be in the crowd a mother or a sister not seen for years; or, more
moving still, the novice might look in vain for loved and remembered faces
that would never be seen in the market-place again. But whatever his
feelings might be, he must rigidly suppress them under pain of a flogging,
a fine, or even death. At last the parade was over and the procession
broke up. Then the old hands introduced the new hands to their own parents
and brothers and sisters, to their old homes and haunts. For still the
novices kept up the pretence that everything was new and strange to them,
that they could not speak their mother tongue, that they did not know
their own fathers and mothers, their own town and their own houses; nay
that they had forgotten even how to eat their food. So everything and
everybody had to be shewn to them and their names and meanings explained.
Their guides would lead them about the town, pointing out the various
roads and telling where they led to—this one to the watering-place on the
river, this to the forest, that to the farms, and so on: they would take
up the commonest domestic utensils and shew what they were used for: they
would even chew the food and put it into the mouths of the novices, like
mother birds feeding their callow young. For some time afterwards the
resuscitated persons, attended by their mentors, would go about the town
and the neighbourhood acting in a strange way like children or mad folk,
seizing what they wanted and trying to beat or even kill such as dared to
refuse them anything. Their guardian would generally restrain these
sallies; but sometimes he would arrange with his hopeful pupils to be out
of sight when two or three of them clubbed together to assault and rob an
honest man, and would only return in time to share the booty. After a
while, however, the excitement created by the resurrection would wear off;
the dead folk come to life were expected to have learned their lessons,
and if they forgot themselves, their memory was promptly refreshed by the
law.(643)

(M197) The following account of the rites, as practised in this part of
Africa, was given to Adolf Bastian by an interpreter. “The great fetish
lives in the interior of the forest-land, where nobody sees him and nobody
can see him. When he dies, the fetish priests carefully collect his bones
in order to bring them to life again, and they nourish them, that he may
be clothed anew in flesh and blood. But it is not good to speak of it. In
the land of Ambamba every one must die once, and when the fetish priest
shakes his calabash against a village, all the men and lads whose hour is
come fall into a state of lifeless torpidity, from which they generally
arise after three days. But if the fetish loves a man he carries him away
into the bush and buries him in the fetish house, often for many years.
When he comes to life again, he begins to eat and drink as before, but his
understanding is gone and the fetish man must teach him and direct him in
every motion, like the smallest child. At first this can only be done with
a stick, but gradually his senses return, so that it is possible to talk
with him, and when his education is complete, the priest brings him back
to his parents. They would seldom recognize their son but for the express
assurances of the fetish priest, who moreover recalls previous events to
their memory. He who has not gone through the ceremony of the new birth in
Ambamba is universally looked down upon and is not admitted to the
dances.”(644)

(M198) In the same part of Africa we hear of a fetish called Malassi, the
votaries of which form a secret order of the usual sort with a variety of
ranks to which the initiates are promoted. “The candidate is plunged into
a magic sleep within the temple-hut, and while he sleeps he beholds a bird
or other object with which his existence is henceforth sympathetically
bound up, just as the life of the young Indian is bound up with the animal
which he sees in his dream at puberty. All who have been born again at
initiation, after their return to a normal state, bear the name of Swamie
(a sacred designation also in India) or, if they are women, Sumbo (Tembo),
and wear as a token the ring called _sase_, which consists of an iron hoop
with a fruit attached to it.”(645) Similarly among the Fans of the Gaboon
a young warrior acquires his guardian spirit by dreaming. He is secluded
in the forest, drinks a fermented and intoxicating liquor, and smokes
hemp. Then he falls into a heavy sleep, and next morning he must describe
exactly to the fetish priest the animal, tree, mineral, or whatever it may
have been which he saw in his dream. This magical dream is repeated on
three successive nights; and after that the young man is sent forth by the
priest to seek and bring back the beast, bird, reptile, or whatever it was
of which he dreamed. The youth obeys, reduces the animal or thing to
cinders or ashes, and preserves these calcined remains as a talisman which
will protect him against many dangers.(646) However, in these rites there
is no clear simulation of dying and coming to life again.

(M199) Rites of death and resurrection were formerly observed in Quoja, on
the west coast of Africa, to the north of the Congo. They are thus
described by an old writer:—“They have another ceremony which they call
Belli-Paaro, but it is not for everybody. For it is an incorporation in
the assembly of the spirits, and confers the right of entering their
groves, that is to say, of going and eating the offerings which the simple
folk bring thither. The initiation or admission to the Belli-Paaro is
celebrated every twenty or twenty-five years. The initiated recount
marvels of the ceremony, saying that they are roasted, that they entirely
change their habits and life, and that they receive a spirit quite
different from that of other people and quite new lights. The badge of
membership consists in some lines traced on the neck between the
shoulders; the lines seem to be pricked with a needle. Those who have this
mark pass for persons of spirit, and when they have attained a certain age
they are allowed a voice in all public assemblies; whereas the uninitiated
are regarded as profane, impure, and ignorant persons, who dare not
express an opinion on any subject of importance. When the time for the
ceremony has come, it is celebrated as follows. By order of the king a
place is appointed in the forest, whither they bring the youths who have
not been marked, not without much crying and weeping; for it is impressed
upon the youths that in order to undergo this change it is necessary to
suffer death. So they dispose of their property, as if it were all over
with them. There are always some of the initiated beside the novices to
instruct them. They teach them to dance a certain dance called _killing_,
and to sing verses in praise of Belli. Above all, they are very careful
not to let them die of hunger, because if they did so, it is much to be
feared that the spiritual resurrection would profit them nothing. This
manner of life lasts five or six years, and is comfortable enough, for
there is a village in the forest, and they amuse themselves with hunting
and fishing. Other lads are brought thither from time to time, so that the
last comers have not long to stay. No woman or uninitiated person is
suffered to pass within four or five leagues of the sacred wood. When
their instruction is completed, they are taken from the wood and shut up
in small huts made for the purpose. Here they begin once more to hold
communion with mankind and to talk with the women who bring them their
food. It is amusing to see their affected simplicity. They pretend to know
no one, and to be ignorant of all the customs of the country, such as the
customs of washing themselves, rubbing themselves with oil, and so forth.
When they enter these huts, their bodies are all covered with the feathers
of birds, and they wear caps of bark which hang down before their faces.
But after a time they are dressed in clothes and taken to a great open
place, where all the people of the neighbourhood are assembled. Here the
novices give the first proof of their capacity by dancing a dance which is
called the dance of Belli. After the dance is over, the novices are taken
to the houses of their parents by their instructors.”(647)

(M200) Miss Kingsley informs us that “the great point of agreement between
all these West African secret societies lies in the methods of initiation.
The boy, if he belongs to a tribe that goes in for tattooing, is tattooed,
and is handed over to instructors in the societies’ secrets and formulae.
He lives, with the other boys of his tribe undergoing initiation, usually
under the rule of several instructors, and for the space of one year. He
lives always in the forest, and is naked and smeared with clay. The boys
are exercised so as to become inured to hardship; in some districts, they
make raids so as to perfect themselves in this useful accomplishment. They
always take a new name, and are supposed by the initiation process to
become new beings in the magic wood, and on their return to their village
at the end of their course, they pretend to have entirely forgotten their
life before they entered the wood; but this pretence is not kept up beyond
the period of festivities given to welcome them home. They all learn, to a
certain extent, a new language, a secret language only understood by the
initiated. The same removal from home and instruction from initiated
members is observed also with the girls. However, in their case, it is not
always a forest-grove they are secluded in, sometimes it is done in huts.
Among the Grain Coast tribes, however, the girls go into a magic wood
until they are married. Should they have to leave the wood for any
temporary reason, they must smear themselves with white clay. A similar
custom holds good in Okÿon, Calabar district, where, should a girl have to
leave the fattening-house, she must be covered with white clay.”(648)

(M201) Among the natives of the Sherbro, an island lying close to the
coast of Sierra Leone, there is a secret society called the _purra_ or
_poro_, “which is partly of a religious, but chiefly of a political
nature. It resembles free-masonry in excluding females, and in obliging
every member by a solemn oath, which I believe is seldom violated, not to
divulge the sacred mysteries, and to yield a prompt and implicit obedience
to every order of their superiors. Boys of seven or eight years of age are
admitted, or rather serve a novitiate until they arrive at a proper age;
for it is difficult to procure exact information, and even somewhat
dangerous to make many inquiries. Every person on entering the society
lays aside his former name and assumes a new one; to call him by his old
name would produce a dispute. They have a superior or head _purra_ man,
assisted by a grand council, whose commands are received with the most
profound reverence and absolute submission, both by the subordinate
councils and by individuals. Their meetings are held in the most retired
spots, amid the gloom of night, and carried on with inquisitorial secrecy.
When the _purra_ comes into a town, which is always at night, it is
accompanied with the most dreadful howlings, screams, and other horrid
noises. The inhabitants, who are not members of the society, are obliged
to secure themselves within doors; should any one be discovered without,
or attempting to peep at what is going forward, he would inevitably be put
to death. To restrain the curiosity of the females, they are ordered to
continue within doors, clapping their hands incessantly, so long as the
_purra_ remains. Like the secret tribunal, which formerly existed in
Germany, it takes cognizance of offences, particularly of witchcraft and
murder, but above all of contumacy and disobedience in any of its own
members, and punishes the guilty with death in so secret and sudden a
manner, that the perpetrators are never known: indeed, such is the dread
created by this institution, that they are never even inquired
after.”(649) When the members of the _purra_ or _poro_ society visit a
town, the leader of the troop, whom an English writer calls “the Poro
devil,” draws discordant notes from a sort of reed flute, the holes of
which are covered with spiders’ webs. The only time when this devil and
his rout make a prolonged stay in the town is on the evening before the
day on which the newly initiated lads are to be brought back from the
forest. Then the leader and his satellites parade the streets for hours,
while all the uninitiated men, women, and children remain shut up in their
houses, listening to the doleful strains of the flute, which signify that
the devil is suffering the pangs of childbirth before he brings forth the
initiated lads; for he is supposed to have been pregnant with them the
whole of the rainy season ever since they entered into the forest. When
they come forth from the wood, they wear four or five coils of twisted
ferns round their waists in token of their being initiated members of the
order.(650) Among the Soosoos of Senegambia there is a similar secret
society called _semo_: “the natives who speak English call it African
masonry. As the whole ceremonies are kept very private, it is difficult to
discover in what they consist: but it is said that the novices are met in
the woods by the old men, who cut marks on several parts of their bodies,
but most commonly on the belly; they are also taught a language peculiar
to the _semo_, and swear dreadful oaths never to divulge the secrets
revealed to them. The young men are then made to live in the woods for
twelve months, and are supposed to be at liberty to kill any one who
approaches and does not understand the language of the _semo_.... It is
said, when women are so unfortunate as to intrude upon the _semo_, they
kill them, cut off their breasts, and hang them up by the side of the
paths as a warning to others. This circumstance is perhaps less deserving
of credit, because the Soosoos are fond of telling wonderful and horrid
stories respecting this institution. They say, for instance, that when
first initiated their throats are cut, and they continue dead for some
time; at length they are reanimated and initiated into the mysteries of
the institution, and are enabled to ramble about with much more vigour
than they possessed before.”(651)

(M202) While the belief or the pretence of death and resurrection at
initiation is common among the negroes of West Africa, few traces of it
appear to be found among the tribes in the southern, central, and eastern
parts of that continent; and it is notable that in these regions secret
societies, which flourish in the West, are also conspicuously absent.
However, the Akikuyu of British East Africa “have a curious custom which
requires that every boy just before circumcision must be born again. The
mother stands up with the boy crouching at her feet; she pretends to go
through all the labour pains, and the boy on being reborn cries like a
babe and is washed. He lives on milk for some days afterwards.”(652) A
fuller description of the ceremony was given by a member of the Kikuyu
tribe as follows: “A day is appointed, any time of year, by father and
mother. If the father is dead another elder is called in to act as proxy
in his stead, or if the mother is not living another woman to act in her
place. Any woman thus acting as representative is looked upon in future by
the boy as his own mother. A goat or sheep is killed in the afternoon by
any one, usually not by the father, and the stomach and intestines
reserved. The ceremony begins in the evening. A piece of skin is cut in a
circle, and passed over one shoulder of the candidate and under the other
arm. The stomach of the goat is similarly treated and passed over the
other shoulder and under the other arm. All the boy’s ornaments are
removed, but not his clothes. No men are allowed inside the hut, but women
are present. The mother sits on a hide on the floor with the boy between
her knees. The sheep’s gut is passed round the woman and brought in front
of the boy. The woman groans as in labour, another woman cuts the gut, and
the boy imitates the cry of a new-born infant. The women present all
applaud, and afterwards the assistant and the mother wash the boy. That
night the boy sleeps in the same hut as the mother.”(653) Here the cutting
of the sheep’s gut, which unites the mother to the boy, is clearly an
imitation of severing the navel string. Nor is it boys alone who are born
again among the Akikuyu. “Girls go through the rite of second birth as
well as boys. It is sometimes administered to infants. At one time the new
birth was combined with circumcision, and so the ceremony admitted to the
privileges and religious rites of the tribe. Afterwards trouble took place
on account of mere boys wishing to take their place alongside of the young
men and maintaining they were justified in doing so. The old men then
settled the matter by separating the two. Unless the new birth has been
administered the individual is not in a position to be admitted to
circumcision, which is the outward sign of admittance to the nation. Any
who have not gone through the rite cannot inherit property, nor take any
part in the religious rites of the country.”(654) For example, a man who
has not been born again is disqualified for carrying his dying father out
into the wilds and for disposing of his body after death. The new birth
seems to take place usually about the tenth year, but the age varies with
the ability of the father to provide a goat, whose guts are necessary to
enable the boy or girl to be born again in due form.(655)

(M203) Among the Bondeis, a tribe on the coast of German East Africa,
opposite to the island of Pemba, one of the rites of initiation into
manhood consists in a pretence of slaying one of the lads with a sword;
the entrails of a fowl are placed on the boy’s stomach to make the
pretence seem more real.(656) Among the Bushongo, who inhabit a district
of the Belgian Congo bounded on the north and east by the Sankuru River
and on the west by the Kasai, young boys had formerly to undergo certain
rites of initiation, amongst which a simulation of killing them would seem
to have had a place, though in recent times the youths have been allowed
to escape the ordeal by the payment of a fine. The supreme chief of the
tribe, who in old days bore the title of God on Earth (_Chembe Kunji_),
used to assemble all the lads who had just reached puberty and send them
away into the forest, where they remained for several months under the
care of one of his sons. During their seclusion they were deemed unclean
and might see no one; if they chanced to meet a woman, she had to flee
before them. By night the old men marched round the quarters of the
novices, raising hideous cries and whirling bull-roarers, the noise of
which the frightened lads took to be the voices of ghosts. They wore
nothing but a comb, and passed their leisure hours in learning to make
mats and baskets. After about a month they had to submit to the first
ordeal. A trench about ten feet deep was dug in the ground and roofed over
with sticks and earth so as to form a dark tunnel. In the sides of the
tunnel were cut niches, and in each niche a man took post, whose business
it was to terrify the novices. For this purpose one of them was disguised
in the skin of a leopard, a second was dressed as a warrior with a knife
in his hand, a third was a smith with his furnace and red-hot irons, and a
fourth was masked to look like an ugly ape, while he too gripped a knife
in his hand. The novices generally recoiled in dismay from each of these
apparitions, and it was only by means of reiterated taunts and threats
that the elders forced them to traverse the whole length of the tunnel.
After the lapse of another month the youths had to face another ordeal of
a similar character. A low tunnel, about three feet deep, was dug in the
earth, and sticks were inserted in it so that their tops projected from
the surface of the ground. At the end of the tunnel a calabash was set
full of goat’s blood. By way of encouraging the timid novices the master
of the ceremonies himself crawled through the tunnel, his progress under
ground being revealed to the novices above ground by the vibrations of the
sticks with which he collided in the dark passage. Then having bedabbled
his nose, his mouth, and all the rest of his body with the goat’s blood,
he emerged from the tunnel on hands and knees, dripping with gore and to
all appearance in the last stage of exhaustion. Then he lay prostrate on
his stomach in a state of collapse; the elders declared him to be dead and
carried him off. The chief now ordered the lads to imitate the example set
them by the master of the ceremonies, but they begged and prayed to be
excused. At first the chief was inexorable, but in time he relented and
agreed to accept a fine of so many cowries as a ransom paid by the youths
for exemption from the ordeal. A month later the last of the ordeals took
place. A great trunk of a tree was buried with its lower end in the earth
and surrounded for three-quarters of its circumference with arrows stuck
in the ground so that the barbs were pointed towards the tree. The chief
and the leading men sat down at the gap in the circle of arrows, so as to
conceal the gap from the eyes of the novices and other spectators, among
whom the women were allowed to be present. To the eyes of the uninitiated
it now seemed that the tree was surrounded by a bristling hedge of arrows,
to fall upon which would be death. All being ready the master of the
ceremonies climbed the tree amid breathless silence, and having reached
the top, which was decorated with a bunch of leaves, he looked about him
and asked the women, “Shall I come down?” “No! no!” they shrieked, “you
will be killed by the arrows.” Then, turning disdainfully from these
craven souls, the gallant man addressed himself to the youths and repeated
his question, “Shall I come down?” A shout of “Yes!” gave the answer that
might have been expected from these heroic spirits. In response the master
of the ceremonies at once slid down the tree and, dropping neatly to the
ground just at the gap in the hedge of arrows, presented himself unscathed
to the gaze of the excited assembly. The chief now ordered the young men
to go up and do likewise. But the dauntless courage with which they had
contemplated the descent of the master of the ceremonies entirely forsook
them when it came to their turn to copy his shining example. Their
mothers, too, raised a loud cry of protest, joining their prayers and
entreaties to those of their hopeful sons. After some discussion the chief
consented to accept a ransom, and the novices were dispensed from the
ordeal. Then they bathed and were deemed to have rid themselves of their
uncleanness, but they had still to work for the chief for three months
before they ranked as full-grown men and might return to their
villages.(657)

(M204) Among the Indians of Virginia, an initiatory ceremony, called
_Huskanaw_, took place every sixteen or twenty years, or oftener, as the
young men happened to grow up. The youths were kept in solitary
confinement in the woods for several months, receiving no food but an
infusion of some intoxicating roots, so that they went raving mad, and
continued in this state eighteen or twenty days. “Upon this occasion it is
pretended that these poor creatures drink so much of the water of Lethe
that they perfectly lose the remembrance of all former things, even of
their parents, their treasure, and their language. When the doctors find
that they have drunk sufficiently of the Wysoccan (so they call this mad
potion), they gradually restore them to their senses again by lessening
the intoxication of their diet; but before they are perfectly well they
bring them back into their towns, while they are still wild and crazy
through the violence of the medicine. After this they are very fearful of
discovering anything of their former remembrance; for if such a thing
should happen to any of them, they must immediately be _Huskanaw’d_ again;
and the second time the usage is so severe that seldom any one escapes
with life. Thus they must pretend to have forgot the very use of their
tongues, so as not to be able to speak, nor understand anything that is
spoken, till they learn it again. Now, whether this be real or
counterfeit, I don’t know; but certain it is that they will not for some
time take notice of anybody nor anything with which they were before
acquainted, being still under the guard of their keepers, who constantly
wait upon them everywhere till they have learnt all things perfectly over
again. Thus they unlive their former lives, and commence men by forgetting
that they ever have been boys.”(658)

(M205) Among some of the Indian tribes of North America there exist
certain religious associations which are only open to candidates who have
gone through a pretence of being killed and brought to life again. In 1766
or 1767 Captain Jonathan Carver witnessed the admission of a candidate to
an association called “the friendly society of the Spirit”
(_Wakon-Kitchewah_) among the Naudowessies, a Siouan or Dacotan tribe in
the region of the great lakes. The candidate knelt before the chief, who
told him that “he himself was now agitated by the same spirit which he
should in a few moments communicate to him; that it would strike him dead,
but that he would instantly be restored again to life; to this he added,
that the communication, however terrifying, was a necessary introduction
to the advantages enjoyed by the community into which he was on the point
of being admitted. As he spoke this, he appeared to be greatly agitated;
till at last his emotions became so violent, that his countenance was
distorted, and his whole frame convulsed. At this juncture he threw
something that appeared both in shape and colour like a small bean, at the
young man, which seemed to enter his mouth, and he instantly fell as
motionless as if he had been shot.” For a time the man lay like dead, but
under a shower of blows he shewed signs of consciousness, and finally,
discharging from his mouth the bean, or whatever it was that the chief had
thrown at him, he came to life.(659) In other tribes, for example, the
Ojebways, Winnebagoes, and Dacotas or Sioux, the instrument by which the
candidate is apparently slain is the medicine-bag. The bag is made of the
skin of an animal (such as the otter, wild cat, serpent, bear, raccoon,
wolf, owl, weasel), of which it roughly preserves the shape. Each member
of the society has one of these bags, in which he keeps the odds and ends
that make up his “medicine” or charms. “They believe that from the
miscellaneous contents in the belly of the skin bag or animal there issues
a spirit or breath, which has the power, not only to knock down and kill a
man, but also to set him up and restore him to life.” The mode of killing
a man with one of these medicine-bags is to thrust it at him; he falls
like dead, but a second thrust of the bag restores him to life.(660) Among
the Dacotas the institution of the medicine-bag or mystery-sack was
attributed to Onktehi, the great spirit of the waters, who ordained that
the bag should consist of the skin of the otter, raccoon, weasel,
squirrel, or loon, or a species of fish and of serpents. Further, he
decreed that the bag should contain four sorts of medicines of magical
qualities, which should represent fowls, quadrupeds, herbs, and trees.
Accordingly, swan’s down, buffalo hair, grass roots, and bark from the
roots of trees are kept by the Dacotas in their medicine-bags. From this
combination there proceeds a magical influence (_tonwan_) so powerful that
no human being can of his own strength withstand it. When the god of the
waters had prepared the first medicine-bag, he tested its powers on four
candidates for initiation, who all perished under the shock. So he
consulted with his wife, the goddess of the earth, and by holding up his
left hand and pattering on the back of it with the right, he produced
myriads of little shells, whose virtue is to restore life to those who
have been slain by the medicine-bag. Having taken this precaution, the god
chose four other candidates and repeated the experiment of initiation with
success, for after killing them with the bag he immediately resuscitated
them by throwing one of the shells into their vital parts, while he
chanted certain words assuring them that it was only sport and bidding
them rise to their feet. That is why to this day every initiated Dacota
has one of these shells in his body. Such was the divine origin of the
medicine-dance of the Dacotas. The initiation takes place in a special
tent. The candidate, after being steamed in a vapour-bath for four
successive days, plants himself on a pile of blankets, and behind him
stands an aged member of the order. “Now the master of the ceremonies,
with the joints of his knees and hips considerably bent, advances with an
unsteady, uncouth hitching, sack in hand, wearing an aspect of desperate
energy, and uttering his ‘Heen, heen, heen’ with frightful emphasis, while
all around are enthusiastic demonstrations of all kinds of wild passions.
At this point the sack is raised near a painted spot on the breast of the
candidate, at which the _tonwan_ is discharged. At the instant the brother
from behind gives him a push and he falls dead, and is covered with
blankets. Now the frenzied dancers gather around, and in the midst of
bewildering and indescribable noises, chant the words uttered by the god
at the institution of the ceremony, as already recorded. Then the master
throws off the covering, and chewing a piece of the bone of the Onktehi,
spirts it over him, and he begins to show signs of returning life. Then as
the master pats energetically upon the breast of the initiated person, he,
convulsed, strangling, struggling, and agonizing, heaves up the shell
which falls from his mouth on a sack placed in readiness to receive it.
Life is restored and entrance effected into the awful mysteries. He
belongs henceforth to the medicine-dance, and has a right to enjoy the
medicine-feast.”(661)

(M206) A ceremony witnessed by the castaway John R. Jewitt during his
captivity among the Indians of Nootka Sound doubtless belongs to this
class of customs. The Indian king or chief “discharged a pistol close to
his son’s ear, who immediately fell down as if killed, upon which all the
women of the house set up a most lamentable cry, tearing handfuls of hair
from their heads, and exclaiming that the prince was dead; at the same
time a great number of the inhabitants rushed into the house armed with
their daggers, muskets, etc., enquiring the cause of their outcry. These
were immediately followed by two others dressed in wolf skins, with masks
over their faces representing the head of that animal. The latter came in
on their hands and feet in the manner of a beast, and taking up the
prince, carried him off upon their backs, retiring in the same manner they
entered.”(662) In another place Jewitt mentions that the young prince—a
lad of about eleven years of age—wore a mask in imitation of a wolf’s
head.(663) Now, as the Indians of this part of America are divided into
totem clans, of which the Wolf clan is one of the principal, and as the
members of each clan are in the habit of wearing some portion of the totem
animal about their person,(664) it is probable that the prince belonged to
the Wolf clan, and that the ceremony described by Jewitt represented the
killing of the lad in order that he might be born anew as a wolf, much in
the same way that the Basque hunter supposed himself to have been killed
and to have come to life again as a bear.

(M207) This conjectural explanation of the ceremony has, since it was
first put forward, been confirmed by the researches of Dr. Franz Boas
among these Indians; though it would seem that the community to which the
chief’s son thus obtained admission was not so much a totem clan as a
secret society called Tlokoala, whose members imitated wolves. The name
Tlokoala is a foreign word among the Nootka Indians, having been borrowed
by them from the Kwakiutl Indians, in whose language the word means the
finding of a _manitoo_ or personal totem. The Nootka tradition runs that
this secret society was instituted by wolves who took away a chief’s son
and tried to kill him, but, failing to do so, became his friends, taught
him the rites of the society, and ordered him to teach them to his friends
on his return home. Then they carried the young man back to his village.
They also begged that whenever he moved from one place to another he would
kindly leave behind him some red cedar-bark to be used by them in their
own ceremonies; and to this custom the Nootka tribes still adhere. Every
new member of the society must be initiated by the wolves. At night a pack
of wolves, personated by Indians dressed in wolf-skins and wearing
wolf-masks, make their appearance, seize the novice, and carry him into
the woods. When the wolves are heard outside the village, coming to fetch
away the novice, all the members of the society blacken their faces and
sing, “Among all the tribes is great excitement, because I am Tlokoala.”
Next day the wolves bring back the novice dead, and the members of the
society have to revive him. The wolves are supposed to have put a magic
stone into his body, which must be removed before he can come to life.
Till this is done the pretended corpse is left lying outside the house.
Two wizards go and remove the stone, which appears to be quartz, and then
the novice is resuscitated.(665) Among the Niska Indians of British
Columbia, who are divided into four principal clans with the raven, the
wolf, the eagle, and the bear for their respective totems, the novice at
initiation is always brought back by an artificial totem animal. Thus when
a man was about to be initiated into a secret society called Olala, his
friends drew their knives and pretended to kill him. In reality they let
him slip away, while they cut off the head of a dummy which had been
adroitly substituted for him. Then they laid the decapitated dummy down
and covered it over, and the women began to mourn and wail. His relations
gave a funeral banquet and solemnly burnt the effigy. In short, they held
a regular funeral. For a whole year the novice remained absent and was
seen by none but members of the secret society. But at the end of that
time he came back alive, carried by an artificial animal which represented
his totem.(666)

(M208) In these ceremonies the essence of the rite appears to be the
killing of the novice in his character of a man and his restoration to
life in the form of the animal which is thenceforward to be, if not his
guardian spirit, at least linked to him in a peculiarly intimate relation.
It is to be remembered that the Indians of Guatemala, whose life was bound
up with an animal, were supposed to have the power of appearing in the
shape of the particular creature with which they were thus sympathetically
united.(667) Hence it seems not unreasonable to conjecture that in like
manner the Indians of British Columbia may imagine that their life depends
on the life of some one of that species of creature to which they
assimilate themselves by their costume. At least if that is not an article
of belief with the Columbian Indians of the present day, it may very well
have been so with their ancestors in the past, and thus may have helped to
mould the rites and ceremonies both of the totem clans and of the secret
societies. For though these two sorts of communities differ in respect of
the mode in which membership of them is obtained—a man being born into his
totem clan but admitted into a secret society later in life—we can hardly
doubt that they are near akin and have their root in the same mode of
thought.(668) That thought, if I am right, is the possibility of
establishing a sympathetic relation with an animal, a spirit, or other
mighty being, with whom a man deposits for safe-keeping his soul or some
part of it, and from whom he receives in return a gift of magical powers.

(M209) The Carrier Indians, who dwell further inland than the tribes we
have just been considering, are divided into four clans with the grouse,
the beaver, the toad, and the grizzly bear for their totems. But in
addition to these clan totems the tribe recognized a considerable number
of what Father Morice calls honorific totems, which could be acquired,
through the performance of certain rites, by any person who wished to
improve his social position. Each totem clan had a certain number of
honorific totems or crests, and these might be assumed by any member of
the clan who fulfilled the required conditions; but they could not be
acquired by members of another clan. Thus the Grouse clan had for its
honorific totems or crests the owl, the moose, the weasel, the crane, the
wolf, the full moon, the wind, and so on; the Toad clan had the sturgeon,
the porcupine, the wolverine, the red-headed woodpecker, the “darding
knife,” and so forth; the Beaver clan had the mountain-goat for one of its
honorific totems; and the goose was a honorific totem of the Grizzly Bear
clan. But the common bear, as a honorific totem or crest, might be assumed
by anybody, whatever his clan. The common possession of a honorific totem
appears to have constituted the same sort of bond among the Carrier
Indians as the membership of a secret society does among the coast tribes
of British Columbia; certainly the rites of initiation were similar. This
will be clear from Father Morice’s account of the performances, which I
will subjoin in his own words. “The connection of the individual with his
crest appeared more especially during ceremonial dances, when the former,
attired, if possible, with the spoils of the latter, was wont to personate
it in the gaze of an admiring assemblage. On all such occasions, man and
totem were also called by the same name. The adoption of any such ’rite’
or crest was usually accompanied by initiatory ceremonies or observances
corresponding to the nature of the crest, followed in all cases by a
distribution of clothes to all present. Thus whenever anybody resolved
upon getting received as _Lulem_ or Bear, he would, regardless of the
season, divest himself of all his wearing apparel and don a bear-skin,
whereupon he would dash into the woods there to remain for the space of
three or four days and nights in deference to the wonts of his intended
totem animal. Every night a party of his fellow-villagers would sally out
in search of the missing ‘bear.’ To their loud calls: _Yi! Kelulem_ (Come
on, Bear!) he would answer by angry growls in imitation of the bear. The
searching party making for the spot where he had been heard, would find by
a second call followed by a similar answer that he had dexterously shifted
to some opposite quarter in the forest. As a rule, he could not be found,
but had to come back of himself, when he was speedily apprehended and
conducted to the ceremonial lodge, where he would commence his first
bear-dance in conjunction with all the other totem people, each of whom
would then personate his own particular totem. Finally would take place
the _potlatch_ [distribution of property] of the newly initiated ‘bear,’
who would not forget to present his captor with at least a whole dressed
skin. The initiation to the ‘Darding Knife’ was quite a theatrical
performance. A lance was prepared which had a very sharp point so arranged
that the slightest pressure on its tip would cause the steel to gradually
sink into the shaft. In the sight of the multitude crowding the lodge,
this lance was pressed on the bare chest of the candidate and apparently
sunk in his body to the shaft, when he would tumble down simulating death.
At the same time a quantity of blood—previously kept in the mouth—would
issue from the would-be corpse, making it quite clear to the uninitiated
gazers-on that the terrible knife had had its effect, when lo! upon one of
the actors striking up one of the chants specially made for the
circumstance and richly paid for, the candidate would gradually rise up a
new man, the particular _protégé_ of the ‘Darding Knife.’ ”(669)

(M210) In the former of these two initiatory rites of the Carrier Indians
the prominent feature is the transformation of the man into his totem
animal; in the latter it is his death and resurrection. But in substance,
probably, both are identical. In both the novice dies as a man and revives
as his totem, whether that be a bear, a “darding” knife, or what not; in
other words, he has deposited his life or some portion of it in his totem,
with which accordingly for the future he is more or less completely
identified. Hard as it may be for us to conceive why a man should choose
to identify himself with a knife, whether “darding” or otherwise, we have
to remember that in Celebes it is to a chopping-knife or other iron tool
that the soul of a woman in labour is transferred for safety;(670) and the
difference between a chopping-knife and a “darding” knife, considered as a
receptacle for a human soul, is perhaps not very material. Among the
Thompson Indians of British Columbia warriors who had a knife, an arrow,
or any other weapon for their personal totem or guardian spirit, enjoyed
this signal advantage over their fellows that they were for all practical
purposes invulnerable. If an arrow did hit them, which seldom happened,
they vomited the blood up, and the hurt soon healed. Hence these
arrow-proof warriors rarely wore armour, which would indeed have been
superfluous, and they generally took the most dangerous posts in battle.
So convinced were the Thompson Indians of the power of their personal
totem or guardian spirit to bring them back to life, that some of them
killed themselves in the sure hope that the spirit would immediately raise
them up from the dead. Others, more prudently, experimented on their
friends, shooting them dead and then awaiting more or less cheerfully
their joyful resurrection. We are not told that success crowned these
experimental demonstrations of the immortality of the soul.(671)

(M211) The Toukaway Indians of Texas, one of whose totems is the wolf,
have a ceremony in which men, dressed in wolf-skins, run about on all
fours, howling and mimicking wolves. At last they scratch up a living
tribesman, who has been buried on purpose, and putting a bow and arrows in
his hands, bid him do as the wolves do—rob, kill, and murder.(672) The
ceremony probably forms part of an initiatory rite like the resurrection
from the grave of the old man in the Australian rites.

(M212) The simulation of death and resurrection or of a new birth at
initiation appears to have lingered on, or at least to have left traces of
itself, among peoples who have advanced far beyond the stage of savagery.
Thus, after his investiture with the sacred thread—the symbol of his
order—a Brahman is called “twice born.” Manu says, “According to the
injunction of the revealed texts the first birth of an Aryan is from his
natural mother, the second happens on the tying of the girdle of Muñga
grass, and the third on the initiation to the performance to a Srauta
sacrifice.”(673) A pretence of killing the candidate perhaps formed part
of the initiation to the Mithraic mysteries.(674)

(M213) Thus, on the theory here suggested, wherever totemism is found, and
wherever a pretence is made of killing and bringing to life again the
novice at initiation, there may exist or have existed not only a belief in
the possibility of permanently depositing the soul in some external
object—animal, plant, or what not—but an actual intention of so doing. If
the question is put, why do men desire to deposit their life outside their
bodies? the answer can only be that, like the giant in the fairy tale,
they think it safer to do so than to carry it about with them, just as
people deposit their money with a banker rather than carry it on their
persons. We have seen that at critical periods the life or soul is
sometimes temporarily stowed away in a safe place till the danger is past.
But institutions like totemism are not resorted to merely on special
occasions of danger; they are systems into which every one, or at least
every male, is obliged to be initiated at a certain period of life. Now
the period of life at which initiation takes place is regularly puberty;
and this fact suggests that the special danger which totemism and systems
like it are intended to obviate is supposed not to arise till sexual
maturity has been attained, in fact, that the danger apprehended is
believed to attend the relation of the sexes to each other. It would be
easy to prove by a long array of facts that the sexual relation is
associated in the primitive mind with many serious perils; but the exact
nature of the danger apprehended is still obscure. We may hope that a more
exact acquaintance with savage modes of thought will in time disclose this
central mystery of primitive society, and will thereby furnish the clue,
not only to totemism, but to the origin of the marriage system.





CHAPTER XII. THE GOLDEN BOUGH.


(M214) Thus the view that Balder’s life was in the mistletoe is entirely
in harmony with primitive modes of thought. It may indeed sound like a
contradiction that, if his life was in the mistletoe, he should
nevertheless have been killed by a blow from the plant. But when a
person’s life is conceived as embodied in a particular object, with the
existence of which his own existence is inseparably bound up, and the
destruction of which involves his own, the object in question may be
regarded and spoken of indifferently as his life or his death, as happens
in the fairy tales. Hence if a man’s death is in an object, it is
perfectly natural that he should be killed by a blow from it. In the fairy
tales Koshchei the Deathless is killed by a blow from the egg or the stone
in which his life or death is secreted;(675) the ogres burst when a
certain grain of sand—doubtless containing their life or death—is carried
over their heads;(676) the magician dies when the stone in which his life
or death is contained is put under his pillow;(677) and the Tartar hero is
warned that he may be killed by the golden arrow or golden sword in which
his soul has been stowed away.(678)

(M215) The idea that the life of the oak was in the mistletoe was probably
suggested, as I have said, by the observation that in winter the mistletoe
growing on the oak remains green while the oak itself is leafless. But the
position of the plant—growing not from the ground but from the trunk or
branches of the tree—might confirm this idea. Primitive man might think
that, like himself, the oak-spirit had sought to deposit his life in some
safe place, and for this purpose had pitched on the mistletoe, which,
being in a sense neither on earth nor in heaven, might be supposed to be
fairly out of harm’s way. In the first chapter we saw that primitive man
seeks to preserve the life of his human divinities by keeping them poised
between earth and heaven, as the place where they are least likely to be
assailed by the dangers that encompass the life of man on earth. We can
therefore understand why it has been a rule both of ancient and of modern
folk-medicine that the mistletoe should not be allowed to touch the
ground; were it to touch the ground, its healing virtue would be
gone.(679) This may be a survival of the old superstition that the plant
in which the life of the sacred tree was concentrated should not be
exposed to the risk incurred by contact with the earth. In an Indian
legend, which offers a parallel to the Balder myth, Indra swore to the
demon Namuci that he would slay him neither by day nor by night, neither
with staff nor with bow, neither with the palm of the hand nor with the
fist, neither with the wet nor with the dry. But he killed him in the
morning twilight by sprinkling over him the foam of the sea.(680) The foam
of the sea is just such an object as a savage might choose to put his life
in, because it occupies that sort of intermediate or nondescript position
between earth and sky or sea and sky in which primitive man sees safety.
It is therefore not surprising that the foam of the river should be the
totem of a clan in India.(681)

(M216) Again, the view that the mistletoe owes its mystic character partly
to its not growing on the ground is confirmed by a parallel superstition
about the mountain-ash or rowan-tree. In Jutland a rowan that is found
growing out of the top of another tree is esteemed “exceedingly effective
against witchcraft: since it does not grow on the ground witches have no
power over it; if it is to have its full effect it must be cut on
Ascension Day.”(682) Hence it is placed over doors to prevent the ingress
of witches.(683) In Sweden and Norway, also, magical properties are
ascribed to a “flying-rowan” (_flögrönn_), that is to a rowan which is
found growing not in the ordinary fashion on the ground but on another
tree, or on a roof, or in a cleft of the rock, where it has sprouted from
seed scattered by birds. They say that a man who is out in the dark should
have a bit of “flying-rowan” with him to chew; else he runs a risk of
being bewitched and of being unable to stir from the spot.(684) A
Norwegian story relates how once on a time a Troll so bewitched some men
who were ploughing in a field that they could not drive a straight furrow;
only one of the ploughmen was able to resist the enchantment because by
good luck his plough was made out of a “flying-rowan.”(685) In Sweden,
too, the “flying-rowan” is used to make the divining rod, which discovers
hidden treasures. This useful art has nowadays unfortunately been almost
forgotten, but three hundred years ago it was in full bloom, as we gather
from the following contemporary account. “If in the woods or elsewhere, on
old walls or on high mountains or rocks you perceive a rowan-tree (_runn_)
which has sprung from a seed that a bird has dropped from its bill, you
must either knock or break off that rod or tree in the twilight between
the third day and the night after Ladyday. But you must take care that
neither iron nor steel touches it and that in carrying it home you do not
let it fall on the ground. Then place it under the roof on a spot under
which you have laid various metals, and you will soon be surprised to see
how that rod under the roof gradually bends in the direction of the
metals. When your rod has sat there in the same spot for fourteen days or
more, you take a knife or an awl, which has been stroked with a magnet,
and with it you slit the bark on all sides, and pour or drop the blood of
a cock (best of all the blood from the comb of a cock which is all of one
colour) on the said slits in the bark; and when the blood has dried, the
rod is ready and will give public proof of the efficacy of its marvellous
properties.”(686) Just as in Scandinavia the parasitic rowan is deemed a
countercharm to sorcery, so in Germany the parasitic mistletoe is still
commonly considered a protection against witchcraft, and in Sweden, as we
saw, the mistletoe which is gathered on Midsummer Eve is attached to the
ceiling of the house, the horse’s stall or the cow’s crib, in the belief
that this renders the Troll powerless to injure man or beast.(687)

(M217) The view that the mistletoe was not merely the instrument of
Balder’s death, but that it contained his life, is countenanced by the
analogy of a Scottish superstition. Tradition ran that the fate of the
Hays of Errol, an estate in Perthshire, near the Firth of Tay, was bound
up with the mistletoe that grew on a certain great oak. A member of the
Hay family has recorded the old belief as follows: “Among the low country
families the badges are now almost generally forgotten; but it appears by
an ancient MS. and the tradition of a few old people in Perthshire, that
the badge of the Hays was the mistletoe. There was formerly in the
neighbourhood of Errol, and not far from the Falcon stone, a vast oak of
an unknown age, and upon which grew a profusion of the plant: many charms
and legends were considered to be connected with the tree, and the
duration of the family of Hay was said to be united with its existence. It
was believed that a sprig of the mistletoe cut by a Hay on Allhallowmas
eve, with a new dirk, and after surrounding the tree three times sunwise,
and pronouncing a certain spell, was a sure charm against all glamour or
witchery, and an infallible guard in the day of battle. A spray gathered
in the same manner was placed in the cradle of infants, and thought to
defend them from being changed for elf-bairns by the fairies. Finally, it
was affirmed, that when the root of the oak had perished, ‘the grass
should grow in the hearth of Errol, and a raven should sit in the falcon’s
nest.’ The two most unlucky deeds which could be done by one of the name
of Hay were, to kill a white falcon, and to cut down a limb from the oak
of Errol. When the old tree was destroyed I could never learn. The estate
has been some time sold out of the family of Hay, and of course it is said
that the fatal oak was cut down a short time before.”(688) The old
superstition is recorded in verses which are traditionally ascribed to
Thomas the Rhymer:—


    “_While the mistletoe bats on Errol’s aik,_
      _And that aik stands fast,_
    _The Hays shall flourish, and their good grey hawk_
      _Shall nocht flinch before the blast._
    _But when the root of the aik decays,_
      _And the mistletoe dwines on its withered breast,_
    _The grass shall grow on Errol’s hearthstane,_
      _And the corbie roup in the falcon’s nest._”(689)


(M218) The idea that the fate of a family, as distinct from the lives of
its members, is bound up with a particular plant or tree, is no doubt
comparatively modern. The older view may have been that the lives of all
the Hays were in this particular mistletoe, just as in the Indian story
the lives of all the ogres are in a lemon; to break a twig of the
mistletoe would then have been to kill one of the Hays. Similarly in the
island of Rum, whose bold mountains the voyager from Oban to Skye observes
to seaward, it was thought that if one of the family of Lachlin shot a
deer on the mountain of Finchra, he would die suddenly or contract a
distemper which would soon prove fatal.(690) Probably the life of the
Lachlins was bound up with the deer on Finchra, as the life of the Hays
was bound up with the mistletoe on Errol’s oak, and the life of the
Dalhousie family with the Edgewell Tree.

(M219) It is not a new opinion that the Golden Bough was the
mistletoe.(691) True, Virgil does not identify but only compares it with
mistletoe. But this may be only a poetical device to cast a mystic glamour
over the humble plant. Or, more probably, his description was based on a
popular superstition that at certain times the mistletoe blazed out into a
supernatural golden glory. The poet tells how two doves, guiding Aeneas to
the gloomy vale in whose depth grew the Golden Bough, alighted upon a
tree, “whence shone a flickering gleam of gold. As in the woods in winter
cold the mistletoe—a plant not native to its tree—is green with fresh
leaves and twines its yellow berries about the boles; such seemed upon the
shady holm-oak the leafy gold, so rustled in the gentle breeze the golden
leaf.”(692) Here Virgil definitely describes the Golden Bough as growing
on a holm-oak, and compares it with the mistletoe. The inference is almost
inevitable that the Golden Bough was nothing but the mistletoe seen
through the haze of poetry or of popular superstition.

(M220) Now grounds have been shewn for believing that the priest of the
Arician grove—the King of the Wood—personified the tree on which grew the
Golden Bough.(693) Hence if that tree was the oak, the King of the Wood
must have been a personification of the oak-spirit. It is, therefore, easy
to understand why, before he could be slain, it was necessary to break the
Golden Bough. As an oak-spirit, his life or death was in the mistletoe on
the oak, and so long as the mistletoe remained intact, he, like Balder,
could not die. To slay him, therefore, it was necessary to break the
mistletoe, and probably, as in the case of Balder, to throw it at him. And
to complete the parallel, it is only necessary to suppose that the King of
the Wood was formerly burned, dead or alive, at the midsummer fire
festival which, as we have seen, was annually celebrated in the Arician
grove.(694) The perpetual fire which burned in the grove, like the
perpetual fire which burned in the temple of Vesta at Rome and under the
oak at Romove,(695) was probably fed with the sacred oak-wood; and thus it
would be in a great fire of oak that the King of the Wood formerly met his
end. At a later time, as I have suggested, his annual tenure of office was
lengthened or shortened, as the case might be, by the rule which allowed
him to live so long as he could prove his divine right by the strong hand.
But he only escaped the fire to fall by the sword.

(M221) Thus it seems that at a remote age in the heart of Italy, beside
the sweet Lake of Nemi, the same fiery tragedy was annually enacted which
Italian merchants and soldiers were afterwards to witness among their rude
kindred, the Celts of Gaul, and which, if the Roman eagles had ever
swooped on Norway, might have been found repeated with little difference
among the barbarous Aryans of the North. The rite was probably an
essential feature in the ancient Aryan worship of the oak.(696)

(M222) It only remains to ask, Why was the mistletoe called the Golden
Bough?(697) The whitish-yellow of the mistletoe berries is hardly enough
to account for the name, for Virgil says that the bough was altogether
golden, stem as well as leaves.(698) Perhaps the name may be derived from
the rich golden yellow which a bough of mistletoe assumes when it has been
cut and kept for some months; the bright tint is not confined to the
leaves, but spreads to the stalks as well, so that the whole branch
appears to be indeed a Golden Bough. Breton peasants hang up great bunches
of mistletoe in front of their cottages, and in the month of June these
bunches are conspicuous for the bright golden tinge of their foliage.(699)
In some parts of Brittany, especially about Morbihan, branches of
mistletoe are hung over the doors of stables and byres to protect the
horses and cattle,(700) probably against witchcraft.

(M223) The yellow colour of the withered bough may partly explain why the
mistletoe has been sometimes supposed to possess the property of
disclosing treasures in the earth;(701) for on the principles of
homoeopathic magic there is a natural affinity between a yellow bough and
yellow gold. This suggestion is confirmed by the analogy of the marvellous
properties popularly ascribed to the mythical fern-seed or fern-bloom. We
saw that fern-seed is popularly supposed to bloom like gold or fire on
Midsummer Eve.(702) Thus in Bohemia it is said that “on St. John’s Day
fern-seed blooms with golden blossoms that gleam like fire.”(703) Now it
is a property of this mythical fern-seed that whoever has it, or will
ascend a mountain holding it in his hand on Midsummer Eve, will discover a
vein of gold or will see the treasures of the earth shining with a bluish
flame.(704) In Russia they say that if you succeed in catching the
wondrous bloom of the fern at midnight on Midsummer Eve, you have only to
throw it up into the air, and it will fall like a star on the very spot
where a treasure lies hidden.(705) In Brittany treasure-seekers gather
fern-seed at midnight on Midsummer Eve, and keep it till Palm Sunday of
the following year; then they strew the seed on ground where they think a
treasure is concealed.(706) Tyrolese peasants imagine that hidden
treasures can be seen glowing like flame on Midsummer Eve, and that
fern-seed, gathered at this mystic season, with the usual precautions,
will help to bring the buried gold to the surface.(707) In the Swiss
canton of Freiburg people used to watch beside a fern on St. John’s night
in the hope of winning a treasure, which the devil himself sometimes
brought to them.(708) In Bohemia they say that he who procures the golden
bloom of the fern at this season has thereby the key to all hidden
treasures; and that if maidens will spread a cloth under the fast-fading
bloom, red gold will drop into it.(709) And in the Tyrol and Bohemia if
you place fern-seed among money, the money will never decrease, however
much of it you spend.(710) Sometimes the fern-seed is supposed to bloom on
Christmas night, and whoever catches it will become very rich.(711) In
Styria they say that by gathering fern-seed on Christmas night you can
force the devil to bring you a bag of money.(712) In Swabia likewise you
can, by taking the proper precautions, compel Satan himself to fetch you a
packet of fern-seed on Christmas night. But for four weeks previously, and
during the whole of the Advent season, you must be very careful never to
pray, never to go to church, and never to use holy water; you must busy
yourself all day long with devilish thoughts, and cherish an ardent wish
that the devil would help you to get money. Thus prepared you take your
stand, between eleven and twelve on Christmas night, at the meeting of two
roads, over both of which corpses have been carried to the churchyard.
Here many people meet you, some of them dead and buried long ago, it may
be your parents or grandparents, or old friends and acquaintances, and
they stop and greet you, and ask, “What are you doing here?” And tiny
little goblins hop and dance about and try to make you laugh. But if you
smile or utter a single word, the devil will tear you to shreds and
tatters on the spot. If, however, you stand glum and silent and solemn,
there will come, after all the ghostly train has passed by, a man dressed
as a hunter, and that is the devil. He will hand you a paper cornet full
of fern-seed, which you must keep and carry about with you as long as you
live. It will give you the power of doing as much work at your trade in a
day as twenty or thirty ordinary men could do in the same time. So you
will grow very rich. But few people have the courage to go through with
the ordeal. The people of Rotenburg tell of a weaver of their town, who
lived some two hundred and fifty years ago and performed prodigies of
weaving by a simple application of fern-seed which he had been so
fortunate as to obtain, no doubt from the devil, though that is not
expressly alleged by tradition. Rich in the possession of this treasure,
the lazy rascal worked only on Saturdays and spent all the rest of the
week playing and drinking; yet in one day he wove far more cloth than any
other skilled weaver who sat at his loom from morning to night every day
of the week. Naturally he kept his own counsel, and nobody might ever have
known how he did it, if it had not been for what, humanly speaking, you
might call an accident, though for my part I cannot but regard it as the
manifest finger of Providence. One day—it was the octave of a festival—the
fellow had woven a web no less than a hundred ells long, and his mistress
resolved to deliver it to her customer the same evening. So she put the
cloth in a basket and away she trudged with it. Her way led her past a
church, and as she passed the sacred edifice, she heard the tinkle of the
holy bell which announced the elevation of the Host. Being a good woman
she put her basket down, knelt beside it, and there, with the shadows
gathering round her, committed herself to the care of God and his good
angels and received, along with the kneeling congregation in the lighted
church, the evening benediction, which kept her and them from all the
perils and dangers of the night. Then rising refreshed she took up her
basket. But what was her astonishment on looking into it to find the whole
web reduced to a heap of yarn! The blessed words of the priest at the
altar had undone the cursed spell of the Enemy of Mankind.(713)

(M224) Thus, on the principle of like by like, fern-seed is supposed to
discover gold because it is itself golden; and for a similar reason it
enriches its possessor with an unfailing supply of gold. But while the
fern-seed is described as golden, it is equally described as glowing and
fiery.(714) Hence, when we consider that two great days for gathering the
fabulous seed are Midsummer Eve and Christmas—that is, the two solstices
(for Christmas is nothing but an old heathen celebration of the winter
solstice)—we are led to regard the fiery aspect of the fern-seed as
primary, and its golden aspect as secondary and derivative. Fern-seed, in
fact, would seem to be an emanation of the sun’s fire at the two
turning-points of its course, the summer and winter solstices. This view
is confirmed by a German story in which a hunter is said to have procured
fern-seed by shooting at the sun on Midsummer Day at noon; three drops of
blood fell down, which he caught in a white cloth, and these blood-drops
were the fern-seed.(715) Here the blood is clearly the blood of the sun,
from which the fern-seed is thus directly derived. Thus it may be taken as
probable that fern-seed is golden, because it is believed to be an
emanation of the sun’s golden fire.

(M225) Now, like fern-seed, the mistletoe is gathered either at Midsummer
or Christmas(716)—that is, at the summer and winter solstices—and, like
fern-seed, it is supposed to possess the power of revealing treasures in
the earth. On Midsummer Eve people in Sweden make divining-rods of
mistletoe, or of four different kinds of wood one of which must be
mistletoe. The treasure-seeker places the rod on the ground after
sun-down, and when it rests directly over treasure, the rod begins to move
as if it were alive.(717) Now, if the mistletoe discovers gold, it must be
in its character of the Golden Bough; and if it is gathered at the
solstices, must not the Golden Bough, like the golden fern-seed, be an
emanation of the sun’s fire? The question cannot be answered with a simple
affirmative. We have seen that the old Aryans perhaps kindled the
solstitial and other ceremonial fires in part as sun-charms, that is, with
the intention of supplying the sun with fresh fire; and as these fires
were usually made by the friction or combustion of oak-wood,(718) it may
have appeared to the ancient Aryan that the sun was periodically recruited
from the fire which resided in the sacred oak. In other words, the oak may
have seemed to him the original storehouse or reservoir of the fire which
was from time to time drawn out to feed the sun. But if the life of the
oak was conceived to be in the mistletoe, the mistletoe must on that view
have contained the seed or germ of the fire which was elicited by friction
from the wood of the oak. Thus, instead of saying that the mistletoe was
an emanation of the sun’s fire, it might be more correct to say that the
sun’s fire was regarded as an emanation of the mistletoe. No wonder, then,
that the mistletoe shone with a golden splendour, and was called the
Golden Bough. Probably, however, like fern-seed, it was thought to assume
its golden aspect only at those stated times, especially midsummer, when
fire was drawn from the oak to light up the sun.(719) At Pulverbatch, in
Shropshire, it was believed within living memory that the oak-tree blooms
on Midsummer Eve and the blossom withers before daylight. A maiden who
wishes to know her lot in marriage should spread a white cloth under the
tree at night, and in the morning she will find a little dust, which is
all that remains of the flower. She should place the pinch of dust under
her pillow, and then her future husband will appear to her in her
dreams.(720) This fleeting bloom of the oak, if I am right, was probably
the mistletoe in its character of the Golden Bough. The conjecture is
confirmed by the observation that in Wales a real sprig of mistletoe
gathered on Midsummer Eve is similarly placed under the pillow to induce
prophetic dreams;(721) and further the mode of catching the imaginary
bloom of the oak in a white cloth is exactly that which was employed by
the Druids to catch the real mistletoe when it dropped from the bough of
the oak, severed by the golden sickle.(722) As Shropshire borders on
Wales, the belief that the oak blooms on Midsummer Eve may be Welsh in its
immediate origin, though probably the belief is a fragment of the
primitive Aryan creed. In some parts of Italy, as we saw,(723) peasants
still go out on Midsummer morning to search the oak-trees for the “oil of
St. John,” which, like the mistletoe, heals all wounds, and is, perhaps,
the mistletoe itself in its glorified aspect. Thus it is easy to
understand how a title like the Golden Bough, so little descriptive of its
usual appearance on the tree, should have been applied to the seemingly
insignificant parasite. Further, we can perhaps see why in antiquity
mistletoe was believed to possess the remarkable property of extinguishing
fire,(724) and why in Sweden it is still kept in houses as a safeguard
against conflagration.(725) Its fiery nature marks it out, on homoeopathic
principles, as the best possible cure or preventive of injury by fire.

(M226) These considerations may partially explain why Virgil makes Aeneas
carry a glorified bough of mistletoe with him on his descent into the
gloomy subterranean world. The poet describes how at the very gates of
hell there stretched a vast and gloomy wood, and how the hero, following
the flight of two doves that lured him on, wandered into the depths of the
immemorial forest till he saw afar off through the shadows of the trees
the flickering light of the Golden Bough illuminating the matted boughs
overhead.(726) If the mistletoe, as a yellow withered bough in the sad
autumn woods, was conceived to contain the seed of fire, what better
companion could a forlorn wanderer in the nether shades take with him than
a bough that would be a lamp to his feet as well as a rod and staff to his
hands? Armed with it he might boldly confront the dreadful spectres that
would cross his path on his adventurous journey. Hence when Aeneas,
emerging from the forest, comes to the banks of Styx, winding slow with
sluggish stream through the infernal marsh, and the surly ferryman refuses
him passage in his boat, he has but to draw the Golden Bough from his
bosom and hold it up, and straightway the blusterer quails at the sight
and meekly receives the hero into his crazy bark, which sinks deep in the
water under the unusual weight of the living man.(727) Even in recent
times, as we have seen, mistletoe has been deemed a protection against
witches and trolls,(728) and the ancients may well have credited it with
the same magical virtue. And if the parasite can, as some of our peasants
believe, open all locks,(729) why should it not have served as an “open
Sesame” in the hands of Aeneas to unlock the gates of death? There is some
reason to suppose that when Orpheus in like manner descended alive to hell
to rescue the soul of his dead wife Eurydice from the shades, he carried
with him a willow bough to serve as a passport on his journey to and from
the land of the dead; for in the great frescoes representing the nether
world, with which the master hand of Polygnotus adorned the walls of a
loggia at Delphi, Orpheus was depicted sitting pensively under a willow,
holding his lyre, now silent and useless, in his left hand, while with his
right he grasped the drooping boughs of the tree.(730) If the willow in
the picture had indeed the significance which an ingenious scholar has
attributed to it,(731) the painter meant to represent the dead musician
dreaming wistfully of the time when the willow had carried him safe back
across the Stygian ferry to that bright world of love and music which he
was now to see no more. Again, on an ancient sarcophagus, which exhibits
in sculptured relief the parting of Adonis from Aphrodite, the hapless
youth, reclining in the lap of his leman, holds a branch, which has been
taken to signify that he, too, by the help of the mystic bough, might yet
be brought back from the gates of death to life and love.(732)

(M227) Now, too, we can conjecture why Virbius at Nemi came to be
confounded with the sun.(733) If Virbius was, as I have tried to shew, a
tree-spirit, he must have been the spirit of the oak on which grew the
Golden Bough; for tradition represented him as the first of the Kings of
the Wood. As an oak-spirit he must have been supposed periodically to
rekindle the sun’s fire, and might therefore easily be confounded with the
sun itself. Similarly we can explain why Balder, an oak-spirit, was
described as “so fair of face and so shining that a light went forth from
him,”(734) and why he should have been so often taken to be the sun. And
in general we may say that in primitive society, when the only known way
of making fire is by the friction of wood, the savage must necessarily
conceive of fire as a property stored away, like sap or juice, in trees,
from which he has laboriously to extract it. The Senal Indians of
California “profess to believe that the whole world was once a globe of
fire, whence that element passed up into the trees, and now comes out
whenever two pieces of wood are rubbed together.”(735) Similarly the Maidu
Indians of California hold that “the earth was primarily a globe of molten
matter, and from that the principle of fire ascended through the roots
into the trunk and branches of trees, whence the Indians can extract it by
means of their drill.”(736) In Namoluk, one of the Caroline Islands, they
say that the art of making fire was taught men by the gods. Olofaet, the
cunning master of flames, gave fire to the bird _mwi_ and bade him carry
it to earth in his bill. So the bird flew from tree to tree and stored
away the slumbering force of the fire in the wood, from which men can
elicit it by friction.(737) In the ancient Vedic hymns of India the
fire-god Agni “is spoken of as born in wood, as the embryo of plants, or
as distributed in plants. He is also said to have entered into all plants
or to strive after them. When he is called the embryo of trees or of trees
as well as plants, there may be a side-glance at the fire produced in
forests by the friction of the boughs of trees.”(738) In some Australian
languages the words for wood and fire are said to be the same.(739)

(M228) A tree which has been struck by lightning is naturally regarded by
the savage as charged with a double or triple portion of fire; for has he
not seen the mighty flash enter into the trunk with his own eyes? Hence
perhaps we may explain some of the many superstitious beliefs concerning
trees that have been struck by lightning. Thus in the opinion of the
Cherokee Indians “mysterious properties attach to the wood of a tree which
has been struck by lightning, especially when the tree itself still lives,
and such wood enters largely into the secret compounds of the conjurers.
An ordinary person of the laity will not touch it, for fear of having
cracks come upon his hands and feet, nor is it burned for fuel, for fear
that lye made from the ashes will cause consumption. In preparing
ballplayers for the contest, the medicine-man sometimes burns splinters of
it to coal, which he gives to the players to paint themselves with, in
order that they may be able to strike their opponents with all the force
of a thunderbolt. Bark or wood from a tree struck by lightning, but still
green, is beaten up and put into the water in which seeds are soaked
before planting, to insure a good crop, but, on the other hand, any
lightning-struck wood thrown into the field will cause the crop to wither,
and it is believed to have a bad effect even to go into the field
immediately after having been near such a tree.”(740) Apparently the
Cherokees imagine that when wood struck by lightning is soaked in water
the fierce heat of the slumbering fire in its veins is tempered to a
genial warmth, which promotes the growth of the crops; but that when the
force of the fire has not been thus diluted it blasts the growing corn.
When the Thompson Indians of British Columbia wished to set fire to the
houses of their enemies, they shot at them arrows which were either made
from a tree that had been struck by lightning or had splinters of such
wood attached to them.(741) They seem to have thought that wood struck by
lightning was so charged with fire that it would ignite whatever it
struck, the mere concussion sufficing to explode it like gunpowder. Yet
curiously enough these Indians supposed that if they burned the wood of
trees that had been struck by lightning, the weather would immediately
turn cold.(742) Perhaps they conceived such trees as reservoirs of heat,
and imagined that by using them up they would exhaust the supply and thus
lower the temperature of the atmosphere.(743) Wendish peasants of Saxony
similarly refuse to burn in their stoves the wood of trees that have been
struck by lightning; but the reason they give for their refusal is
different. They say that with such fuel the house would be burnt
down.(744) No doubt they think that the electric flash, inherent in the
wood, would send such a roaring flame up the chimney that nothing could
stand before it. In like manner the Thonga of South Africa will not use
such wood as fuel nor warm themselves at a fire which has been kindled
with it; but what danger they apprehend from the wood we are not
told.(745) On the contrary, when lightning sets fire to a tree, the
Winamwanga of Northern Rhodesia put out all the fires in the village and
plaster the fireplaces afresh, while the head men convey the
lightning-kindled fire to the chief, who prays over it. The chief then
sends out the new fire to all his villages, and the villagers reward his
messengers for the boon. This shews that they look upon fire kindled by
lightning with reverence, and the reverence is intelligible, for they
speak of thunder and lightning as God himself coming down to earth.(746)
Similarly the Maidu Indians of California believe that a Great Man created
the world and all its inhabitants, and that lightning is nothing but the
Great Man himself descending swiftly out of heaven and rending the trees
with his flaming arm.(747)

(M229) It is a plausible theory that the reverence which the ancient
peoples of Europe paid to the oak, and the connexion which they traced
between the tree and their sky-god,(748) were derived from the much
greater frequency with which the oak appears to be struck by lightning
than any other tree of our European forests. Some remarkable statistics
have been adduced in support of this view by Mr. W. Warde Fowler.(749)
Observations, annually made in the forests of Lippe-Detmold for seventeen
years, yielded the result that while the woods were mainly stocked with
beech and only to a small extent with oak and Scotch pine, yet far more
oaks and Scotch pines were struck by lightning than beeches, the number of
stricken Scotch pines exceeding the number of stricken beeches in the
proportion of thirty-seven to one, and the number of stricken oaks
exceeding the number of stricken beeches in the proportion of no less than
sixty to one. Similar results have been obtained from observations made in
French and Bavarian forests.(750) In short, it would seem from statistics
compiled by scientific observers, who have no mythological theories to
maintain, that the oak suffers from the stroke of lightning far oftener
than any other forest tree in Europe. However we may explain it, whether
by the easier passage of electricity through oakwood than through any
other timber,(751) or in some other way, the fact itself may well have
attracted the notice of our rude forefathers, who dwelt in the vast
forests which then covered a large part of Europe; and they might
naturally account for it in their simple religious way by supposing that
the great sky-god, whom they worshipped and whose awful voice they heard
in the roll of thunder, loved the oak above all the trees of the wood and
often descended into it from the murky cloud in a flash of lightning,
leaving a token of his presence or of his passage in the riven and
blackened trunk and the blasted foliage. Such trees would thenceforth be
encircled by a nimbus of glory as the visible seats of the thundering
sky-god. Certain it is that, like some savages, both Greeks and Romans
identified their great god of the sky and of the oak with the lightning
flash which struck the ground; and they regularly enclosed such a stricken
spot and treated it thereafter as sacred.(752) It is not rash to suppose
that the ancestors of the Celts and Germans in the forests of Central
Europe paid a like respect for like reasons to a blasted oak.

(M230) This explanation of the Aryan reverence for the oak and of the
association of the tree with the great god of the thunder and the sky, was
suggested or implied long ago by Jacob Grimm,(753) and has been of late
powerfully reinforced by Mr. W. Warde Fowler.(754) It appears to be
simpler and more probable than the explanation which I formerly adopted,
namely, that the oak was worshipped primarily for the many benefits which
our rude forefathers derived from the tree, particularly for the fire
which they drew by friction from its wood; and that the connexion of the
oak with the sky was an after-thought based on the belief that the flash
of lightning was nothing but the spark which the sky-god up aloft elicited
by rubbing two pieces of oak wood against each other, just as his savage
worshipper kindled fire in the forest on earth.(755) On that theory the
god of the thunder and the sky was derived from the original god of the
oak; on the present theory, which I now prefer, the god of the sky and the
thunder was the great original deity of our Aryan ancestors, and his
association with the oak was merely an inference based on the frequency
with which the oak was seen to be struck by lightning. If the Aryans, as
some think, roamed the wide steppes of Russia or Central Asia with their
flocks and herds before they plunged into the gloom of the European
forests, they may have worshipped the god of the blue or cloudy firmament
and the flashing thunderbolt long before they thought of associating him
with the blasted oaks in their new home.(756)

(M231) Perhaps the new theory has the further advantage of throwing light
on the special sanctity ascribed to mistletoe which grows on an oak. The
mere rarity of such a growth on an oak hardly suffices to explain the
extent and the persistence of the superstition. A hint of its real origin
is possibly furnished by the statement of Pliny that the Druids worshipped
the plant because they believed it to have fallen from heaven and to be a
token that the tree on which it grew was chosen by the god himself.(757)
Can they have thought that the mistletoe dropped on the oak in a flash of
lightning? The conjecture is confirmed by the name thunder-besom which is
applied to mistletoe in the Swiss canton of Aargau,(758) for the epithet
clearly implies a close connexion between the parasite and the thunder;
indeed “thunder-besom” is a popular name in Germany for any bushy
nest-like excrescence growing on a branch, because such a parasitic growth
is actually believed by the ignorant to be a product of lightning.(759) If
there is any truth in this conjecture, the real reason why the Druids
worshipped a mistletoe-bearing oak above all other trees of the forest was
a belief that every such oak had not only been struck by lightning but
bore among its branches a visible emanation of the celestial fire; so that
in cutting the mistletoe with mystic rites they were securing for
themselves all the magical properties of a thunderbolt. If that was so, we
must apparently conclude that the mistletoe was deemed an emanation of the
lightning rather than, as I have thus far argued, of the midsummer sun.
Perhaps, indeed, we might combine the two seemingly divergent views by
supposing that in the old Aryan creed the mistletoe descended from the sun
on Midsummer Day in a flash of lightning. But such a combination is
artificial and unsupported, so far as I know, by any positive evidence.
Whether on mythical principles the two interpretations can really be
reconciled with each other or not, I will not presume to say; but even
should they prove to be discrepant, the inconsistency need not have
prevented our rude forefathers from embracing both of them at the same
time with an equal fervour of conviction; for like the great majority of
mankind the savage is above being hidebound by the trammels of a pedantic
logic. In attempting to track his devious thought through the jungle of
crass ignorance and blind fear, we must always remember that we are
treading enchanted ground, and must beware of taking for solid realities
the cloudy shapes that cross our path or hover and gibber at us through
the gloom. We can never completely replace ourselves at the standpoint of
primitive man, see things with his eyes, and feel our hearts beat with the
emotions that stirred his. All our theories concerning him and his ways
must therefore fall far short of certainty; the utmost we can aspire to in
such matters is a reasonable degree of probability.

(M232) To conclude these enquiries we may say that if Balder was indeed,
as I have conjectured, a personification of a mistletoe-bearing oak, his
death by a blow of the mistletoe might on the new theory be explained as a
death by a stroke of lightning. So long as the mistletoe, in which the
flame of the lightning smouldered, was suffered to remain among the
boughs, so long no harm could befall the good and kindly god of the oak,
who kept his life stowed away for safety between earth and heaven in the
mysterious parasite; but when once that seat of his life, or of his death,
was torn from the branch and hurled at the trunk, the tree fell—the god
died—smitten by a thunderbolt.(760)

(M233) And what we have said of Balder in the oak forests of Scandinavia
may perhaps, with all due diffidence in a question so obscure and
uncertain, be applied to the priest of Diana, the King of the Wood, at
Aricia in the oak forests of Italy. He may have personated in flesh and
blood the great Italian god of the sky, Jupiter,(761) who had kindly come
down from heaven in the lightning flash to dwell among men in the
mistletoe—the thunder-besom—the Golden Bough—growing on the sacred oak
beside the still waters of the lake of Nemi. If that was so, we need not
wonder that the priest guarded with drawn sword the mystic bough which
contained the god’s life and his own. The goddess whom he served and
married was herself, if I am right, no other than the Queen of Heaven, the
true wife of the sky-god. For she, too, loved the solitude of the woods
and the lonely hills, and sailing overhead on clear nights in the likeness
of the silver moon she looked down with pleasure on her own fair image
reflected on the calm, the burnished surface of the lake, Diana’s Mirror.





CHAPTER XIII. FAREWELL TO NEMI.


(M234) We are at the end of our enquiry, but as often happens in the
search after truth, if we have answered one question, we have raised many
more; if we have followed one track home, we have had to pass by others
that opened off it and led, or seemed to lead, to far other goals than the
sacred grove at Nemi. Some of these paths we have followed a little way;
others, if fortune should be kind, the writer and the reader may one day
pursue together. For the present we have journeyed far enough together,
and it is time to part. Yet before we do so, we may well ask ourselves
whether there is not some more general conclusion, some lesson, if
possible, of hope and encouragement, to be drawn from the melancholy
record of human error and folly which has engaged our attention in these
volumes.

(M235) If then we consider, on the one hand, the essential similarity of
man’s chief wants everywhere and at all times, and on the other hand, the
wide difference between the means he has adopted to satisfy them in
different ages, we shall perhaps be disposed to conclude that the movement
of the higher thought, so far as we can trace it, has on the whole been
from magic through religion to science. In magic man depends on his own
strength to meet the difficulties and dangers that beset him on every
side. He believes in a certain established order of nature on which he can
surely count, and which he can manipulate for his own ends. When he
discovers his mistake, when he recognizes sadly that both the order of
nature which he had assumed and the control which he had believed himself
to exercise over it were purely imaginary, he ceases to rely on his own
intelligence and his own unaided efforts, and throws himself humbly on the
mercy of certain great invisible beings behind the veil of nature, to whom
he now ascribes all those far-reaching powers which he once arrogated to
himself. Thus in the acuter minds magic is gradually superseded by
religion, which explains the succession of natural phenomena as regulated
by the will, the passion, or the caprice of spiritual beings like man in
kind, though vastly superior to him in power.

(M236) But as time goes on this explanation in its turn proves to be
unsatisfactory. For it assumes that the succession of natural events is
not determined by immutable laws, but is to some extent variable and
irregular, and this assumption is not borne out by closer observation. On
the contrary, the more we scrutinize that succession the more we are
struck by the rigid uniformity, the punctual precision with which,
wherever we can follow them, the operations of nature are carried on.
Every great advance in knowledge has extended the sphere of order and
correspondingly restricted the sphere of apparent disorder in the world,
till now we are ready to anticipate that even in regions where chance and
confusion appear still to reign, a fuller knowledge would everywhere
reduce the seeming chaos to cosmos. Thus the keener minds, still pressing
forward to a deeper solution of the mysteries of the universe, come to
reject the religious theory of nature as inadequate, and to revert in a
measure to the older standpoint of magic by postulating explicitly, what
in magic had only been implicitly assumed, to wit, an inflexible
regularity in the order of natural events, which, if carefully observed,
enables us to foresee their course with certainty and to act accordingly.
In short, religion, regarded as an explanation of nature, is displaced by
science.

(M237) But while science has this much in common with magic that both rest
on a faith in order as the underlying principle of all things, readers of
this work will hardly need to be reminded that the order presupposed by
magic differs widely from that which forms the basis of science. The
difference flows naturally from the different modes in which the two
orders have been reached. For whereas the order on which magic reckons is
merely an extension, by false analogy, of the order in which ideas present
themselves to our minds, the order laid down by science is derived from
patient and exact observation of the phenomena themselves. The abundance,
the solidity, and the splendour of the results already achieved by science
are well fitted to inspire us with a cheerful confidence in the soundness
of its method. Here at last, after groping about in the dark for countless
ages, man has hit upon a clue to the labyrinth, a golden key that opens
many locks in the treasury of nature. It is probably not too much to say
that the hope of progress—moral and intellectual as well as material—in
the future is bound up with the fortunes of science, and that every
obstacle placed in the way of scientific discovery is a wrong to humanity.

(M238) Yet the history of thought should warn us against concluding that
because the scientific theory of the world is the best that has yet been
formulated, it is necessarily complete and final. We must remember that at
bottom the generalizations of science or, in common parlance, the laws of
nature are merely hypotheses devised to explain that ever-shifting
phantasmagoria of thought which we dignify with the high-sounding names of
the world and the universe. In the last analysis magic, religion, and
science are nothing but theories of thought; and as science has supplanted
its predecessors, so it may hereafter be itself superseded by some more
perfect hypothesis, perhaps by some totally different way of looking at
the phenomena—of registering the shadows on the screen—of which we in this
generation can form no idea. The advance of knowledge is an infinite
progression towards a goal that for ever recedes. We need not murmur at
the endless pursuit:—


    “_Fatti non foste a viver come bruti_
    _Ma per seguir virtute e conoscenza._”


(M239) Great things will come of that pursuit, though we may not enjoy
them. Brighter stars will rise on some voyager of the future—some great
Ulysses of the realms of thought—than shine on us. The dreams of magic may
one day be the waking realities of science. But a dark shadow lies athwart
the far end of this fair prospect. For however vast the increase of
knowledge and of power which the future may have in store for man, he can
scarcely hope to stay the sweep of those great forces which seem to be
making silently but relentlessly for the destruction of all this starry
universe in which our earth swims as a speck or mote. In the ages to come
man may be able to predict, perhaps even to control, the wayward courses
of the winds and clouds, but hardly will his puny hands have strength to
speed afresh our slackening planet in its orbit or rekindle the dying fire
of the sun.(762) Yet the philosopher who trembles at the idea of such
distant catastrophes may console himself by reflecting that these gloomy
apprehensions, like the earth and the sun themselves, are only parts of
that unsubstantial world which thought has conjured up out of the void,
and that the phantoms which the subtle enchantress has evoked to-day she
may ban to-morrow. They too, like so much that to common eyes seems solid,
may melt into air, into thin air.(763)

(M240) Without dipping so far into the future, we may illustrate the
course which thought has hitherto run by likening it to a web woven of
three different threads—the black thread of magic, the red thread of
religion, and the white thread of science, if under science we may include
those simple truths, drawn from observation of nature, of which men in all
ages have possessed a store. Could we then survey the web of thought from
the beginning, we should probably perceive it to be at first a chequer of
black and white, a patchwork of true and false notions, hardly tinged as
yet by the red thread of religion. But carry your eye further along the
fabric and you will remark that, while the black and white chequer still
runs through it, there rests on the middle portion of the web, where
religion has entered most deeply into its texture, a dark crimson stain,
which shades off insensibly into a lighter tint as the white thread of
science is woven more and more into the tissue. To a web thus chequered
and stained, thus shot with threads of diverse hues, but gradually
changing colour the farther it is unrolled, the state of modern thought,
with all its divergent aims and conflicting tendencies, may be compared.
Will the great movement which for centuries has been slowly altering the
complexion of thought be continued in the near future? or will a reaction
set in which may arrest progress and even undo much that has been done? To
keep up our parable, what will be the colour of the web which the Fates
are now weaving on the humming loom of time? will it be white or red? We
cannot tell. A faint glimmering light illumines the backward portion of
the web. Clouds and thick darkness hide the other end.

                  ‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐

(M241) Our long voyage of discovery is over and our bark has drooped her
weary sails in port at last. Once more we take the road to Nemi. It is
evening, and as we climb the long slope of the Appian Way up to the Alban
Hills, we look back and see the sky aflame with sunset, its golden glory
resting like the aureole of a dying saint over Rome and touching with a
crest of fire the dome of St. Peter’s. The sight once seen can never be
forgotten, but we turn from it and pursue our way darkling along the
mountain side, till we come to Nemi and look down on the lake in its deep
hollow, now fast disappearing in the evening shadows. The place has
changed but little since Diana received the homage of her worshippers in
the sacred grove. The temple of the sylvan goddess, indeed, has vanished
and the King of the Wood no longer stands sentinel over the Golden Bough.
But Nemi’s woods are still green, and as the sunset fades above them in
the west, there comes to us, borne on the swell of the wind, the sound of
the church bells of Ariccia ringing the Angelus. _Ave Maria!_ Sweet and
solemn they chime out from the distant town and die lingeringly away
across the wide Campagnan marshes. _Le roi est mort, vive le roi! Ave
Maria!_





NOTES.




I. Snake Stones.(764)


(M242) The belief of the Scottish Highlanders as to the so-called Snake
Stones has been recorded as follows by a good authority at the end of the
nineteenth century:—

“A product called _clach-nathrach_, serpent stone, is found on the root of
the long ling. It is of steel-grey colour, has the consistency of soft
putty when new and of hard putty when old, and is as light as
pumice-stone, which it resembles. It is of a globular form, and from one
to three inches in diameter. There is a circular hole, about a quarter of
an inch in width, through the centre. This substance is said to be
produced by the serpent emitting spume round the root of a twig of
heather. The _clach-nathrach_ is greatly prized by the people, who
transmit it as a talisman to their descendants.”(765)




II. The Transformation of Witches Into Cats.


(M243) The European belief that witches can turn themselves into cats, and
that any wounds inflicted on the witch-cat will afterwards be found on the
body of the witch herself,(766) has its exact parallel among the Oraons or
Uraons, a primitive hill tribe of Bengal. The following is the account
given of the Oraon belief by a Jesuit missionary, who laboured for years
among these savages and was intimately acquainted with their
superstitions:—

“_Chordewa_ is a witch rather than a _bhut_ [demon]. It is believed that
some women have the power to change their soul into a black cat, who then
goes about in the houses where there are sick people. Such a cat has a
peculiar way of mewing quite different from its brethren, and is easily
recognised. It steals quietly into the house, licks the lips of the sick
man and eats of the food that has been prepared for him. The sick man soon
gets worse and dies. They say it is very difficult to catch the cat, as it
has all the nimbleness of its nature and the cleverness of a _bhut_.
However, they sometimes succeed, and then something wonderful happens. The
woman out of whom the cat has come remains insensible, as it were in a
state of temporary death, until the cat re-enters her body. Any wound
inflicted on the cat will be inflicted on her; if they cut its ears or
break its legs or put out its eyes the woman will suffer the same
mutilation. The Uraons say that formerly they used to burn any woman that
was suspected to be a _Chordewa_.”(767)




III. African Balders.


(M244) In various parts of Africa stories are told of men who could only
be killed, like Balder, by the stroke of an apparently insignificant
weapon; and some at least of these men were not mythical beings but real
men of flesh and blood who lived not long ago and whose memory is still
comparatively fresh among their people. The Wadoe of German East Africa
tell such a story of a great sorcerer, whom they now worship as a
dispenser of sunshine and rain. The legend and the worship are reported as
follows by a native African traveller:—

(M245) “If drought sets in, all the chiefs meet in council and resolve:
‘This year we have had nothing but sunshine; when we plant, the fruits
will not ripen; therefore we must betake ourselves to our spirits of the
dead (_mizimu_).’ Then they take some woollen stuff dyed blue and a red
cloth, and set out together on the way and go to the district Nguu, where
their principal ghost (_mzimu_) resides, in order to lay the matter before
him. The ghost dwells in a very spacious cave. On their coming the chiefs
greet him. His answer consists in a humming noise, which sounds like the
patter of rain. If one among them is a bad man, the ghost says to them,
‘There is come with you in the caravan a rascal who wears such and such
clothes.’ If such a man there is, he is driven away. Now they tell the
ghost all that they wish to say, to wit: ‘This year thou hast given us
much sunshine; the fruits in the fields do not grow tall, everywhere there
is sickness, therefore we beg thee, give us rain.’ Thereupon the ghost
hums a second time, and all are glad, because he has answered them. But if
the ghost is angry, he does not answer but holds his peace. If he has made
them glad and given an answer, much rain will fall; otherwise they return
as they went in sunshine.

(M246) “Originally this ghost was a man, a village elder (_jumbe_) of
Ukami. He was a great sorcerer. One day people wished to conquer him, but
they could do him no harm, for neither lead nor sword nor arrow could
pierce his body. But he lived at strife with his wife. She said to his
enemies, ‘If you would kill my husband, I will tell you how it can be
done.’ They asked her, ‘How can it be done?’ She answered, ‘My husband is
a great sorcerer; you all know that.’ They answered, ‘That is true.’ Then
she said further, ‘If you would kill him so that he dies on the spot, seek
a stalk of a gourd and smite him with it; then he will die at once, for
that has always been to him a forbidden thing.’(768) They sought the stalk
of a gourd, and when they smote him with it, he died at once without so
much as setting one foot from the spot. But of him and his departure there
was nothing more to be seen, for suddenly a great storm blew, and no man
knew whither he had gone. The storm is said to have carried him to that
cave which is still there to this day. After some days people saw in the
cave his weapons, clothes, and turban lying, and they brought word to the
folk in the town, ‘We have seen the clothes of the elder in the cave, but
of himself we have perceived nothing.’ The folk went thither to look
about, and they found that it was so. So the news of this ghost spread,
all the more because people had seen the marvel that a man died and nobody
knew where he had gone. The wonderful thing in this wood is that the
spirits dwell in the midst of the wood and that everywhere a bright white
sand lies on the ground, as if people had gone thither for the purpose of
keeping everything clean. On many days they hear a drumming and shouts of
joy in this wood, as if a marriage feast were being held there. That is
the report about the ghost of Kolelo.(769) All village elders, who dwell
in the interior, see in this ghost the greatest ghost of all. All the
chiefs (_mwene_) and headmen (_pazi_) and the village elders (_jumben_) of
the clan Kingaru(770) respect that ghost.”(771)

(M247) Miss Alice Werner, who kindly called my attention to this and the
following cases of African Balders, tells me that this worshipful ghost in
the cave appears to have been in his time a real man. Again, she was
assured by some natives that “Chikumbu, a Yao chief, who at one time gave
the Administration some trouble, was invulnerable by shot or steel; the
only thing that could kill him—since he had not been fortified against it
by the proper medicine—was a sharp splinter of bamboo. This reminds one of
Balder and the mistletoe.”(772) Again, a Nyanja chief named Chibisa, who
was a great man in this part of Africa when Livingstone travelled in
it,(773) “stood firm upon his ant-heap, while his men fell round him,
shouting his war-song, until one who knew the secret of a sand-bullet
brought him down.”(774)

(M248) Once more the Swahili tell a story of an African Samson named
Liongo who lived in Shanga, while it was a flourishing city. By reason of
his great strength he oppressed the people exceedingly, and they sought to
kill him, but all in vain. At last they bribed his nephew, saying, “Go and
ask your father what it is that will kill him. When you know, come and
tell us, and when he is dead we will give you the kingdom.” So the
treacherous nephew went to his uncle and asked him, “Father, what is it
that can kill you?” And his uncle said, “A copper needle. If any one stabs
me in the navel, I die.” So the nephew went to the town and said to the
people, “It is a copper needle that will kill him.” And they gave him a
needle, and he went back to his uncle; and while his uncle slept the
wicked nephew stabbed him with the needle in the navel. So he died, and
they buried him, and his grave is to be seen at Ozi to this day. But they
seized the nephew and killed him; they did not give the kingdom to that
bad young man.(775)

(M249) When we compare the story of Balder with these African stories, the
heroes of which were probably all real men, and when further we remember
the similar tale told of the Persian hero Isfendiyar, who may well have
been an historical personage,(776) we are confirmed in the suspicion that
Balder himself may have been a real man, admired and beloved in his
lifetime and deified after his death, like the African sorcerer, who is
now worshipped in a cave and bestows rain or sunshine on his votaries. On
the whole I incline to regard this solution of the Balder problem as more
probable than the one I have advocated in the text, namely that Balder was
a mythical personification of a mistletoe-bearing oak. The facts which
seem to incline the balance to the side of Euhemerism reached me as my
book was going to press and too late to be embodied in their proper place
in the volumes. The acceptance of this hypothesis would not necessarily
break the analogy which I have traced between Balder in his sacred grove
on the Sogne fiord of Norway and the priest of Diana in the sacred grove
of Nemi; indeed, it might even be thought rather to strengthen the
resemblance between the two, since there is no doubt at all that the
priests of Diana at Nemi were men who lived real lives and died real
deaths.




IV. The Mistletoe and the Golden Bough.


(M250) That Virgil compares the Golden Bough to the mistletoe(777) is
certain and admitted on all hands. The only doubt that can arise is
whether the plant to which he compares the mystic bough is the ordinary
species of mistletoe (_Viscum album_) or the species known to botanists as
_Loranthus europaeus_. The common mistletoe (_Viscum album_, L.) “lives as
a semi-parasite (obtaining carbon from the air, but water, nitrogen, and
mineral matter from the sap of its host) on many conifers and broadleaved
trees, and chiefly on their branches. The hosts, or trees on which it
lives, are, _most frequently_, the apple tree, both wild and cultivated
varieties; next, the silver-fir; _frequently_, birches, poplars (except
aspen), limes, willows, Scots pine, mountain-ash, and hawthorn;
_occasionally_, robinia, maples, horse-chestnut, hornbeam, and aspen. It
is very rarely found on oaks, but has been observed on pedunculate oak at
Thornbury, Gloucestershire, and elsewhere in Europe, also on _Quercus
coccinea_, Moench., and _Q. palustris_, Moench. The alders, beech and
spruce appear to be always free from mistletoe, and it very rarely attacks
pear-trees. It is commoner in Southern Europe than in the North, and is
extremely abundant where cider is made. In the N.-W. Himalayan districts,
it is frequently found on apricot-trees, which are the commonest
fruit-trees there. Its white berries are eaten by birds, chiefly by the
missel-thrush (_Turdus viscivorus_, L.), and the seeds are either rubbed
by the beak against branches of trees, or voided on to them; the seeds,
owing to the viscous nature of the pulp surrounding them, then become
attached to the branches.”(778) The large smooth pale-green tufts of the
parasite, clinging to the boughs of trees, are most conspicuous in winter,
when they assume a yellowish hue.(779) In Greece at the present time
mistletoe grows most commonly on firs, especially at a considerable
elevation (three thousand feet or more) above the level of the sea.(780)
Throughout Italy mistletoe now grows on fruit-trees, almond-trees,
hawthorn, limes, willows, black poplars, and firs, but never, it is said,
on oaks.(781) In England seven authentic cases of mistletoe growing on
oaks are said to be reported.(782) In Gloucestershire mistletoe grows on
the Badham Court oak, Sedbury Park, Chepstow, and on the
Frampton-on-Severn oak.(783) Branches of oak with mistletoe growing on
them were exhibited to more than one learned society in France during the
nineteenth century; one of the branches was cut in the forest of
Jeugny.(784) It is a popular French superstition that mandragora or “the
hand of glory,” as it is called by the people, may be found by digging at
the root of a mistletoe-bearing oak.(785)

(M251) The species of mistletoe known as _Loranthus europaeus_ resembles
the ordinary mistletoe in general appearance, but its berries are bright
yellow instead of white. “This species attacks chiefly oaks, _Quercus
cerris_, L., _Q. sessiliflora_, Salisb., less frequently, _Q.
pedunculata_, Ehrh., and _Castanea vulgaris_, Lam.; also lime. It is found
throughout Southern Europe and as far north as Saxony, not in Britain. It
grows chiefly on the branches of standards over coppice.” The injury which
it inflicts on its hosts is even greater than that inflicted by the
ordinary mistletoe; it often kills the branch on which it settles. The
seeds are carried to the trees by birds, chiefly by the missel-thrush. In
India many kinds of _Loranthus_ grow on various species of forest trees,
for example, on teak;(786) one variety (_Loranthus vestitus_) grows on two
species of oak, the _Quercus dilatata_, Lindl., and the _Quercus incana_,
Roxb.(787) A marked distinction between the two sorts of mistletoe is that
whereas ordinary mistletoe (_Viscum album_) is evergreen, the _Loranthus_
is deciduous.(788) In Greece the _Loranthus_ has been observed on many old
chestnut-trees at Stheni, near Delphi.(789) In Italy it grows chiefly on
the various species of oaks and also on chestnut-trees. So familiar is it
on oaks that it is known as “oak mistletoe” both in popular parlance
(_visco quercino_) and in druggists’ shops (_viscum quernum_). Bird-lime
is made from it in Italy.(790)

(M252) Both sorts of mistletoe were known to the ancient Greeks and
Romans, though the distinctive terms which they applied to each appear not
to be quite certain. Theophrastus, and Pliny after him, seem to
distinguish three sorts of mistletoe, to which Theophrastus gives the
names of _ixia_, _hyphear_, and _stelis_ respectively. He says that the
_hyphear_ and the _stelis_ grow on firs and pines, and that the _ixia_
grows on the oak (δρῦς), the terebinth, and many other kinds of trees. He
also observes that both the _ixia_ and the _hyphear_ grow on the ilex or
holm-oak (πρῖνος), the same tree sometimes bearing both species at the
same time, the _ixia_ on the north and the _hyphear_ on the south. He
expressly distinguishes the evergreen species of _ixia_ from the
deciduous, which seems to prove that he included both the ordinary
mistletoe (_Viscum album_) and the _Loranthus_ under the general name of
_ixia_.(791)

(M253) Modern writers are not agreed as to the identification of the
various species of mistletoe designated by the names _ixia_, _hyphear_,
and _stelis_. F. Wimmer, the editor of Theophrastus in the Didot edition,
takes _hyphear_ to be common mistletoe (_Viscum album_), _stelis_ to be
_Loranthus europaeus_, and _ixia_ to be a general name which includes the
two species.(792) On the other hand F. Fraas, while he agrees as to the
identification of _hyphear_ and _stelis_ with common mistletoe and
_Loranthus_ respectively, inclines somewhat hesitatingly to regard _ixia_
or _ixos_ (as Dioscorides has it) as a synonym for _stelis_ (the
_Loranthus_).(793) H. O. Lenz, again, regards both _hyphear_ and _stelis_
as synonyms for common mistletoe (_Viscum album_), while he would restrict
_ixia_ to the _Loranthus_.(794) But both these attempts to confine _ixia_
to the single deciduous species _Loranthus_ seem incompatible with the
statement of Theophrastus, that _ixia_ includes an evergreen as well as a
deciduous species.(795)

(M254) We have now to ask, Did Virgil compare the Golden Bough to the
common mistletoe (_Viscum album_) or to the _Loranthus europaeus_? Some
modern enquirers decide in favour of the _Loranthus_. Many years ago Sir
Francis Darwin wrote to me:(796) “I wonder whether _Loranthus europaeus_
would do for your Golden Bough. It is a sort of mistletoe growing on oaks
and chestnuts in S. Europe. In the autumn it produces what are described
as bunches of pretty yellow berries. It is not evergreen like the
mistletoe, but deciduous, and as its leaves appear at the same time as the
oak leaves and drop at the same time in autumn, it must look like a branch
of the oak, more especially as it has rough bark with lichens often
growing on it. _Loranthus_ is said to be a hundred years old sometimes.”
Professor P. J. Veth, after quoting the passage from Virgil, writes that
“almost all translators (including Vondel) and commentators of the Mantuan
bard think that the mistletoe is here meant, probably for the simple
reason that it was better known to them than _Loranthus europaeus_. I am
convinced that Virgil can only have thought of the latter. On the other
side of the Alps the _Loranthus_ is much commoner than the mistletoe; on
account of its splendid red blossoms, sometimes twenty centimetres long,
it is a far larger and more conspicuous ornament of the trees; it bears
really golden yellow fruit (_Croceus fetus_), whereas the berries of the
mistletoe are almost white; and it attaches itself by preference to the
oak, whereas the mistletoe is very seldom found on the oak.”(797) Again,
Mr. W. R. Paton writes to me from Mount Athos:(798) “The oak is here
called _dendron_, _the_ tree. As for the mistletoe there are two
varieties, both called _axo_ (ancient ἰξός). Both are used to make
bird-lime. The real _Golden Bough_ is the variety with yellow berries and
no leaves. It is the parasite of the oak and rarely grows on other trees.
It is very abundant, and now in winter the oak-trees which have adopted it
seem from a distance to be draped in a golden tissue. The other variety is
our own mistletoe and is strictly a parasite of the fir (a spruce fir, I
don’t know its scientific name). It is also very abundant.”

(M255) Thus in favour of identifying Virgil’s mistletoe (_viscum_) with
_Loranthus_ rather than with common mistletoe it has been urged, first,
that the berries of _Loranthus_ are bright yellow, whereas those of the
mistletoe are of a greenish white; and, second, that the _Loranthus_
commonly grows on oaks, whereas mistletoe seldom does so, indeed in Italy
mistletoe is said never to be found on an oak. Both these circumstances
certainly speak strongly in favour of _Loranthus_; since Virgil definitely
describes the berries as of a saffron-yellow (_croceus_) and says that the
plant grew on a holm-oak. Yet on the other hand Virgil tells us that the
plant put forth fresh leaves in the depths of winter (_brumali frigore_,
strictly speaking, “the cold of the winter solstice”); and this would best
apply to the common mistletoe, which is evergreen, whereas _Loranthus_ is
deciduous.(799) Accordingly, if we must decide between the two species,
this single circumstance appears to incline the balance in favour of
common mistletoe. But is it not possible that Virgil, whether consciously
or unconsciously, confused the two plants and combined traits from both in
his description? Both parasites are common in Italy and in appearance they
are much alike except for the colour of the berries. As a loving observer
of nature, Virgil was probably familiar by sight with both, but he may not
have examined them closely; and he might be excused if he thought that the
parasite which he saw growing, with its clusters of bright yellow berries,
on oaks in winter, was identical with the similar parasite which he saw
growing, with its bunches of greenish white berries and its pale green
leaves, on many other trees of the forest. The confusion would be all the
more natural if the Celts of northern Italy, in whose country the poet was
born, resembled the modern Celts of Brittany in attaching bunches of the
common mistletoe to their cottages and leaving them there till the
revolving months had tinged the pale berries, leaves, and twigs with a
golden yellow, thereby converting the branch of mistletoe into a true
Golden Bough.





INDEX.


Aachen, effigy burnt at, i. 120, ii. 25

Aargau, Swiss canton, of, Lenten fire-custom in, i. 119;
  superstition as to oak-mistletoe in, ii. 82;
  mistletoe called “thunder-besom” in, 85, 301;
  birth-trees in, 165

Abeghian, Manuk, on creeping through cleft trees in Armenia, ii. 172

Abensberg in Bavaria, burning the Easter Man at, i. 144

Abeokuta, use of bull-roarers at, ii. 229 _n._

Aber, the Lake of, in Upper Austria, ii. 189

Aberdeenshire, custom at reaping the last corn in, i. 12;
  need-fire in, 296;
  holed rock used by childless women in, ii. 187

Aberfeldy, Hallowe’en fires near, i. 232

Aborigines of Victoria, their custom as to emu fat, i. 13

Abougit, Father X., S.J., on the ceremony of the new fire at Jerusalem, i.
            130

Abruzzi, new Easter fire in the, i. 122;
  water consecrated at Easter in the, 122 _sqq._;
  Midsummer rites of fire and water in the, 209 _sq._

Acacia, the heart in the flower of the, ii. 135 _sq._

Acarnanian story of Prince Sunless, i. 21

Achern, St. John’s fires at, i. 168

Achterneed, in Ross-shire, Beltane cakes at, i. 153

Acireale, in Sicily, Midsummer fires at, i. 210

Adder stones, i. 15

Addison, Joseph, on witchcraft in Switzerland, ii. 42 _n._ 2

Adonis and Aphrodite, ii. 294 _sq._

Aelst, Peter van, painter, ii. 36

Aeneas and the Golden Bough, ii. 285, 293 _sq._

Africa, girls secluded at puberty in, i. 22 _sqq._;
  dread and seclusion of women at menstruation in, 79 _sqq._;
  birth-trees in, ii. 160 _sqq._;
  use of bull-roarers in, 229 _n._, 232

——, British Central, the Anyanja of, i. 81

——, British East, i. 81;
  ceremony of new fire in, 135 _sq._;
  the Nandi of, ii. 229 _n._;
  the Akikuyu of, 262 _sq._

——, East, ceremony of the new fire in, i. 135;
  the Swahili of, ii. 160

——, German East, the Wajagga of, ii. 160;
  the Washamba of, 183;
  the Bondeis of, 263;
  the Wadoe of, 312

——, German South-West, the Ovambo of, ii. 183

——, North, Midsummer fires in, i. 213 _sqq._

——, South, the Thonga of, ii. 297

——, West, theory of an external soul embodied in an animal prevalent in,
            ii. 200 _sqq._;
  ritual of death and resurrection at initiation in, 251 _sqq._

African stories of the external soul, ii. 148 _sqq._;
  Balders, 312 _sqq._

Afterbirth buried under a tree, ii. 160 _sq._, 162, 163, 164, 165;
  of child animated by a ghost and sympathetically connected with a
              banana-tree, 162;
  regarded as brother or sister of child, 162 _n._ 2;
  regarded as a second child, 162 _n._ 2;
  regarded as a guardian spirit, 223 _n._ 2;
  and navel-string regarded as guardian angels of the man, ii. 162 _n._ 2

Agaric growing on birch-trees, superstitions as to, i. 148

Aglu, New year fires at, i. 217

Air thought to be poisoned at eclipses, i. 162 _n._

Aisne, Midsummer fires in the department of, i. 187

Aix, squibs at Midsummer in, i. 193;
  Midsummer king at, i. 194, ii. 25;
  bathing at Midsummer in, 216

Agni, Hindoo deity, i. 99 _n._ 2;
  the fire-god, ii. 1, 296

Ague, Midsummer bonfires deemed a cure for, i. 162;
  leaps across the Midsummer bonfires thought to be a preventive of, 174

Agweh, on the Slave Coast, custom of widows at, ii. 18 _sq._

Ahlen, in Munsterland, i. 247

Ahriman, the devil of the Persians, i. 95

Aht or Nootka Indians of Vancouver Island, seclusion of girls at puberty
            among the, i. 43 _sq._

Ahura Mazda, the supreme being of the Persians, i. 95

Ain, Lenten fires in the department of, i. 114

Ainos of Japan, their mourning caps, i. 20;
  their use of mugwort in exorcism, ii. 60;
  their veneration for mistletoe, 79

A-Kamba of British East Africa, seclusion of girls at puberty among the,
            i. 23

Akikuyu of British East Africa, their dread of menstruous women, i. 81;
  ritual of the new birth among the, ii. 262 _sq._

Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp, Roman version of, ii. 105

Alaska, seclusion of girls at puberty among the Indians of, i. 45 _sq._;
  the Esquimaux of, ii. 155

Alastir and the Bare-Stripping Hangman, Argyleshire story of, ii. 129
            _sq._

Albania, Midsummer fires in, i. 212;
  the Yule log in, 264

Albanian story of the external soul, ii. 104 _n._ 3

Albert Nyanza, the Wakondyo of the, ii. 162 _sq._

Albino head of secret society on the Lower Congo, ii. 251

Alders free from mistletoe, ii. 315

Alfoors or Toradjas of Celebes, their custom at the smelting of iron, ii.
            154;
  their doctrine of the plurality of souls, 222

Algeria, Midsummer fires in, i. 213

Alice Springs in Central Australia, ii. 238

Allan, John Hay, on the Hays of Errol, ii. 283

Allandur temple, at St. Thomas’s Mount, Madras, ii. 8

All-healer, name applied to mistletoe, ii. 77, 79, 82

All Saints’ Day, omens on, i. 240;
  the first of November, 225;
  bonfires on, 246;
  sheep passed through a hoop on, ii. 184

All Souls, Feast of, i. 223 _sq._, 225 _n._ 3

Almond-trees, mistletoe on, ii. 316

A-Louyi, seclusion of girls at puberty among the, i. 28 _n._ 5

Alsace, Midsummer fires in, i. 169;
  cats burnt in Easter bonfires in, ii. 40

Althenneberg, in Bavaria, Easter fires at, i. 143 _sq._

Altmark, Easter bonfires in, i. 140, 142

Alum burnt at Midsummer, i. 214

Alungu, seclusion of girls at puberty among the, i. 24 _sq._

Alur, a tribe of the Upper Nile, i. 64

Alvarado, Pedro de, Spanish general, ii. 214

_Amadhlozi_, ancestral spirits in serpent form, ii. 211 _n._ 2

Amambwe, seclusion of girls at puberty among the, i. 24 _sq._

_Amatongo_, plural of _itongo_, ii. 302 _n._

Amazon, ordeals of young men among the Indians of the, i. 62 _sq._

Ambamba, in West Africa, death, resurrection, and the new birth in, ii.
            256

Amboyna, hair of criminals cut in, ii. 158

Ambras, Midsummer customs at, i. 173

America, Central, the Mosquito territory in, i. 86

America, North, Indians of, not allowed to sit on bare ground in war, i.
            5;
  seclusion of girls at puberty among the Indians of, 41 _sqq._;
  dread and seclusion of menstruous women among the Indians of, 87 _sqq._;
  stories of the external soul among the Indians of, ii. 151 _sq._;
  religious associations among the Indian tribes of, 267 _sqq._

——, South, seclusion of girls at puberty among the Indians of, i. 56
            _sqq._;
  effigies of Judas burnt at Easter in, 128;
  Midsummer fires in, 212 _sq._

Ammerland, in Oldenburg, cart-wheel used as charm against witchcraft in,
            i. 345 _n._ 3

Amphitryo besieges Taphos, ii. 103

Amulets, rings and bracelets as, i. 92;
  as soul-boxes, ii. 155;
  degenerate into ornaments, 156 _n._ 2

Ancestor, wooden image of, ii. 155

Ancestors, worship of, in Fiji, ii. 243 _sq._

Ancestral spirits incarnate in serpents, ii. 211

Anderson, Miss, of Barskimming, i. 171 _n._ 3

Andes, the Peruvian, effigies of Judas burnt at Easter in the, i. 128

Andjra, a district of Morocco, i. 17;
  Midsummer fires in the, 213 _sq._;
  Midsummer rites of water in, 216;
  animals bathed at Midsummer in, ii. 31

Andreas, parish of, in the Isle of Man, i. 224, 305, 307 _n._ 1

Angass, the, of Northern Nigeria, their belief in external human souls
            lodged in animals, ii. 210

Angel, need-fire revealed by an, i. 287

—— -man, effigy of, burnt at Midsummer, i. 167

Angelus bell, the, i. 110, ii. 47

Angoniland, British Central Africa, customs as to girls at puberty in, i.
            25 _sq._;
  customs as to salt in, 27

Angus, superstitious remedy for the “quarter-ill” in, i. 296 _n._ 1

Anhalt, Easter bonfires in, i. 140

Animal, bewitched, or part of it, burnt to compel the witch to appear, i.
            303, 305, 307 _sq._, 321 _sq._;
  sickness transferred to, ii. 181;
  and man, sympathetic relation between, 272 _sq._

Animal familiars of wizards and witches, ii. 196 _sq._, 201 _sq._

Animals burnt alive as a sacrifice in England, Wales, and Scotland, i. 300
            _sqq._;
  witches transformed into, 315 _sqq._, ii. 311 _sq._;
  bewitched, buried alive, i. 324 _sqq._;
  live, burnt at Spring and Midsummer festivals, ii. 38 _sqq._;
  the animals perhaps deemed embodiments of witches, 41 _sq._, 43 _sq._;
  the language of, learned by means of fern-seed, 66 _n._;
  external soul in, 196 _sqq._;
  magical transformation of men into animals, 207;
  helpful, in fairy tales. _See_ Helpful

_Ankenmilch bohren_, to make the need-fire, i. 270 _n._

Ankole, in Central Africa, i. 80

Annam, dread of menstruous women in, i. 85;
  use of wormwood to avert demons in, ii. 61 _n._ 1

Anpu and Bata, ancient Egyptian story of, ii. 134 _sqq._

_Anthemis nobilis_, camomile, gathered at Midsummer, ii. 63

Ant-hill, insane people buried in an, i. 64

Ants employed to sting girls at puberty, i. 61;
  to sting young men, i. 62 _sq._

Antonius Mountain, in Thuringia, Christmas bonfire on the, i. 265 _sq._

Antwerp, wicker giants at, ii. 35 _sq._

Anula tribe of Northern Australia, their rites of initiation, ii. 235

Anyanja of British Central Africa, their dread of menstruous women, i. 81
            _sq._

Apaches, i. 21;
  use of bull-roarers among the, ii, 230 _n._

Apala cured by Indra in the Rigveda, ii. 192

Ape, a Batta totem, ii. 223

Aphrodite and Adonis, ii. 294 _sq._

Apollo, identified with the Celtic Grannus, i. 112

—— Soranus, ii. 14, 15 _n._ 3

Apollo’s temple at Cumae, i. 99

Apple, divination by the sliced, i. 238;
  and candle, biting at, 241, 242, 243, 245

Apple-tree as life-index of boy, ii. 165

—— -trees, torches thrown at, i. 108;
  mistletoe on, ii. 315, 316 _n._ 5

Apples, dipping for, at Hallowe’en, i. 237, 239, 241, 242, 243, 245

Apricot-trees, mistletoe on, ii. 316

April, the twenty-seventh of, in popular superstitions of Morocco, i. 17
            _sq._;
  ceremony of the new fire in, 136 _sq._, ii. 3;
  Chinese festival of fire in, 3

Arab women in Morocco, their superstitions as to plants at Midsummer, ii.
            51

Arabia, tree-spirits in snake form in, ii. 44 _n._ 1

Arabian, modern, story of the external soul, ii. 137 _sq._

_Arabian Nights_, story of the external soul in the, ii. 137

Arabs of Morocco, their Midsummer customs, i. 214

Aran, in the valley of the Garonne, Midsummer fires at, i. 193

Arch, child after an illness passed under an, ii. 192;
  young men at initiation passed under a leafy, 193;
  triumphal, suggested origin of the, 195

Archer (_Tirant_), effigy of, ii. 36

Arches, novices at initiation passed under arches in Australia, ii. 193
            _n._ 1

Archways, passing under, as a means of escaping evil spirits or sickness,
            ii. 179 _sqq._

Ardennes, the Belgian, bonfires on the first Sunday of Lent in the, i. 107
            _sq._;
  the French, Lenten fires and customs in the, 109 _sq._;
  Midsummer fires in the, 188;
  the Yule log in the, 253;
  cats burnt alive in Lenten bonfires, ii. 40

Argo, tree of which the ship was made, ii. 94 _n._ 1

Argyleshire stories of the external soul, ii. 127 _sqq._

Argyrus, temple of Hercules at, i. 99 _n._ 3

Aricia, the priest of, and the Golden Bough, i. 1;
  the priest of Diana at, perhaps a personified Jupiter, ii. 302 _sq._

Arician grove, the Midsummer festival of fire in the, ii. 285;
  the priest of the, a personification of an oak-spirit, 285

Ariminum, triumphal arch of Augustus at, ii. 194 _n._ 4

Arizona and New Mexico, use of bull-roarers in, ii. 230 _n._, 231

Arks, sacred, of the Cherokees, i. 11 _sq._

Armenia, were-wolves in, i. 316;
  sick people creep through cleft trees in, ii. 173

Armenian church, bonfires at Candlemas in the, i. 131

—— idea of the sun as a wheel, i. 334 _n._ 1

Arms of youths punctured to make them good hunters, i. 58

Arnstadt, witches burnt at, i. 6

Arran, the need-fire in, i. 293

Arrows used as a love-charm, i. 14

Artemis Perasia, at Castabala in Cappadocia, ii. 14

_Artemisia absinthium_, wormwood, ii. 58 _n._ 3, 61 _n._ 1

—— _vulgaris_, mugwort, gathered at Midsummer, ii. 58 _sqq._

Artois, mugwort at Midsummer in, ii. 59

Arunta of Central Australia, their sacred pole, i. 7;
  their dread of women at menstruation, 77;
  legend that the ancestors kept their spirits in their _churinga_, ii.
              218 _n._ 3;
  rites of initiation among the, 233 _sq._;
  initiation of medicine-men among the, 238

Aryan god of the thunder and the oak, i. 265

—— peoples, stories of the external soul among, ii. 97 _sqq._

Aryans of Europe, importance of the Midsummer festival among the, ii. 40;
  the oak the chief sacred tree of the, 89 _sq._

Ascension Day, parasitic rowan should be cut on, ii. 281

Asceticism not primitive, i. 65

Ash Wednesday, effigy burnt on, i. 120

Ash-trees, children passed through cleft ash-trees as a cure for rupture
            or rickets, ii. 168 _sqq._

Ashes in divination, i. 243, 244, 245.
  _See also_ Sticks, Charred

—— of bonfires put in fowls’ nests, i. 112, 338;
  increase fertility of fields, 141, 337;
  make cattle thrive, 141, 338;
  placed in a person’s shoes, 156;
  administered to cattle to make them fat, ii. 4

—— of dead, disposal of the, i. 11

—— of Easter bonfire mixed with seed at sowing, i. 121

—— of Hallowe’en fires scattered, i. 233

—— of holy fires a protection against demons, ii. 8, 17

—— of Midsummer fires strewed on fields to fertilize them, i. 170, 190,
            203;
  a protection against conflagration, 174, 196;
  a protection against lightning, 187, 188;
  a protection against thunder, 190;
  put by people in their shoes, 191 _sq._;
  a cure for consumption, 194 _sq._;
  rubbed by people on their hair or bodies, 213, 214, 215;
  good for the eyes, 214

Ashes of the need-fire strewn on fields to protect the crops against
            vermin, i. 274;
  used as a medicine, 286

—— of New Year’s fire used to rub sore eyes, i. 218

—— of Yule log strewed on fields, i. 250;
  used to heal swollen glands, 251

_Ashur_, Arab New Year’s Day, i. 217, 218

Asia Minor, the Celts in, ii. 89;
  cure for possession by an evil spirit in, 186;
  creeping through rifted rocks in, 189

Aspen, mistletoe on, ii. 315

_Aspidium filix mas_, the male fern, superstitions as to, ii. 66 _sq._

Ass, child passed under an, as a cure for whooping-cough, ii. 192 _n._ 1

Assam, the Khasis of, ii. 146;
  the Lushais of, 185 _sq._

Assiga, tribe of South Nigeria, ii. 204

Associations, religious, among the Indian tribes of North America, ii. 267
            _sqq._

Assyrian ritual, use of golden axe in, ii. 80 _n._ 3

Aston, W. G., quoted, i. 137 _sq._;
  on the fire-walk in Japan, ii. 10 _n._ 1

Astral spirit of a witch, i. 317

_Atai_, external soul in the Mota language, ii. 197 _sq._

Ath, in Hainaut, procession of giants at, ii. 36

Athboy, in County Meath, i. 139

Athena, priestess of, uses a white umbrella, i. 20 _n._ 1

Athenians offer cakes to Cronus, i. 153 _n._ 3

Athens, ceremony of the new fire at Easter in, i. 130

Athis, in Normandy, Christmas bonfires at, i. 266

Athos, Mount, mistletoe at, ii. 319, 320 _n._

Atrae, city in Mesopotamia, i. 82

Aubrey, John, on the Midsummer fires, i. 197

Aufkirchen in Bavaria, burning the Easter Man at, i. 144

August, procession of wicker giants in, ii. 36

——, first of, Festival of the Cross on the, i. 220

—— the eighteenth, feast of Florus and Laurus, i. 220

—— the sixth, festival of St. Estapin, ii. 188

Augustus, triumphal arch of Augustus at Ariminum, ii. 195 _n._ 4

Aunis, wonderful herbs gathered on St. John’s Eve in, ii. 45;
  St. John’s wort in, 55;
  vervain gathered at Midsummer in, 62 _n._ 4;
  four-leaved clover at Midsummer in, 63

—— and Saintonge, Midsummer fires in, i. 192

Aurora, in the New Hebrides, _tamaniu_ in, ii. 198

Australia, dread and seclusion of women at menstruation in, i. 76 _sqq._;
  passing under an arch as a rite of initiation in, ii. 193 _n._ 1;
  initiation of young men in, 227, 233 _sqq._;
  use of bull-roarers in, 228 _n._ 2

——, Central, pointing sticks or bones in, i. 14 _n._ 3;
  its desert nature, ii. 230 _n._ 2

——, South-Eastern, sex totems among the natives of, ii. 214 _sqq._

Australian languages, words for fire and wood in, ii. 296

Austria, Midsummer fires in, i. 172 _sqq._;
  the Yule log among the Servians of, 262 _sqq._;
  need-fire in Upper, 279;
  fern-seed at Midsummer in, ii. 65;
  mistletoe used to prevent nightmare in, 85

Autumn fires, i. 220 _sqq._

Auvergne, Lenten fires in, i. 111 _sq._;
  story of a were-wolf in, 308 _sq._

_Ave Maria_ bell, ii. 47

Avernus, Lake, and the Golden Bough, ii. 285 _n._ 2

Awa-nkonde, seclusion of girls at puberty among the, i. 28

“Awasungu, the house of the,” i. 28

Awka in South Nigeria, i. 4

Azemmur, in Morocco, Midsummer fires at, i. 214

Azores, bonfires and divination on Midsummer Eve in the, i. 208 _sq._;
  fern-seed at Midsummer in the, ii. 66

Aztecs, their punishment of witches and wizards, ii. 159

Baal and Beltane, i. 149 _n._ 1, 150 _n._ 1, 157

Babine Lake in British Columbia, i. 47

Backache at reaping, leaps over the Midsummer bonfire thought to be a
            preventive of, i. 165, 168, 189, 344 _sq._;
  set down to witchcraft, 343 _n._, 345;
  at harvest, mugwort a protection against, ii. 59;
  creeping through a holed stone to prevent backache at harvest, 189

_Badache_, double-axe, Midsummer King of the, i. 194

Badagas of the Neilgherry Hills, their fire-walk, ii. 8 _sq._

Baden, Lenten fire-custom in, i. 117;
  Easter bonfires in, 145;
  Midsummer fires in, 167 _sqq._

Badham Court oak, in Gloucestershire, ii. 316

_Badnyak_, Yule log, i. 259, 263

_Badnyi Dan_, Christmas Eve, i. 258, 263

Bag, souls of persons deposited in a, ii. 142, 153, 155

Baganda, children live apart from their parents among the, i. 23 _n._ 2;
  seclusion of girls at puberty among the, 23 _sq._;
  superstition as to women who do not menstruate, 24;
  abstain from salt in certain cases, 27 _sq._;
  their dread of menstruous women, 80 _sq._;
  their beliefs and customs concerning the afterbirth, ii. 162.
  _See also_ Uganda

Bahaus or Kayans of Central Borneo, i. 4 _sq._

Bahima of Central Africa, their dread of menstruous women, i. 80

Bahr-el-Ghazal province, ceremony of the new fire in the, i. 134 _sq._

Bakairi, the, of Brazil, call bull-roarers “thunder and lightning,” ii.
            231 _sq._

Baking-forks, witches ride on, ii. 73, 74

Bakuba or Bushongo of the Congo, i. 4

Balder, his body burnt, i. 102;
  worshipped in Norway, 104;
  camomile sacred to, ii. 63;
  burnt at Midsummer, 87;
  Midsummer sacred to, 87;
  a tree-spirit or deity of vegetation, 88 _sq._;
  interpreted as a mistletoe-bearing oak, 93 _sq._;
  his invulnerability, 94;
  why Balder was thought to shine, 293

—— and the mistletoe, i. 101 _sq._, ii. 76 _sqq._, 302;
  his life or death in the mistletoe, 279, 283;
  perhaps a real man deified, 314 _sq._

——, the myth of, i. 101 _sqq._;
  reproduced in the Midsummer festival of Scandinavia, ii. 87;
  perhaps dramatized in ritual, 88;
  Indian parallel to, 280;
  African parallels to, 312 _sqq._

Balder’s Balefires, name formerly given to Midsummer bonfires in Sweden,
            i. 172, ii. 87

—— Grove, i. 104, ii. 315

_Balders-brâ_, Balder’s eyelashes, a name for camomile, ii. 63

Bâle, Lenten fire-custom in the canton of, i. 119

Balefires, Balder’s, at Midsummer in Sweden, i. 172

Bali, filing of teeth in, i. 68 _n._ 2;
  birth-trees in, ii. 164

Balkan Peninsula, need-fire in the, i. 281

Ball, game of, played to determine the King of Summer, i. 195

Ballyvadlea, in Tipperary, woman burnt as a witch at, i. 323 _sq._

Balnagown loch, in Lismore, i. 316

Balong of the Cameroons, their external souls in animals, ii. 203

Balquhidder, hill of the fires at, i. 149;
  Hallowe’en bonfires at, 232

_Balum_, New Guinea word signifying bull-roarer, ghost, and mythical
            monster, ii. 242

Banana-tree, afterbirth of child buried under a, ii. 162, 163, 164

Bancroft, H. H., on the external souls of the Zapotecs, ii. 212

Banivas of the Orinoco, their scourging of girls at puberty, i. 66 _sqq._

_Baraka_, blessed or magical virtue, i. 216, 218, ii. 51

Barclay, Sheriff, on Hallowe’en fires, i. 232

Bardney bumpkin, on witch as hare, i. 318

Bare-Stripping Hangman, Argyleshire story of the, ii. 129 _sq._

Barker, W. G. M. Jones, on need-fire in Yorkshire, i. 286 _sq._

Barley plant, external soul of prince in a, ii. 102

Ba-Ronga, the, of South Africa, their story of a clan whose external souls
            were in a cat, ii. 150 _sq._

Barotse or Marotse of the Zambesi, seclusion of girls at puberty among
            the, i. 28, 29

Barren cattle driven through fire, i. 203, 338

—— women hope to conceive through fertilizing influence of vegetables, ii.
            51

Barricading the road against a ghostly pursuer, ii. 176

Barsana, in North India, Holi bonfires at, ii. 2, 5

Bartle Bay, in British New Guinea, festival of the wild mango tree at, i.
            7 _sqq._

Basque hunter transformed into bear, ii. 226, 270

—— story of the external soul, ii. 139

Bastar, province of India, treatment of witches in, ii. 159

Bastian, Adolph, on rites of initiation in West Africa, ii. 256 _sq._

Basutos, seclusion of girls at puberty among the, i. 31

Bata and Anpu, ancient Egyptian story of, ii. 134 _sqq._

Bathing in the sea at Easter, i. 123;
  at Midsummer, 208, 210, 216, ii. 29 _sq._;
  thought to be dangerous on Midsummer Day, 26 _sq._

Bats, the lives of men in, ii. 215 _sq._, 217;
  called men’s “brothers,” 215, 216, 218

Battas, their doctrine of the plurality of souls, ii. 223;
  their totemic system, 224 _sqq._

Battel, Andrew, on the colour of negro children at birth, ii. 251 _n._ 1

Bavaria, Easter bonfires in, i. 143 _sq._;
  belief as to eclipses in, 162;
  Midsummer fires in, 164 _sqq._;
  leaf-clad mummer at Midsummer in, ii. 26;
  the divining-rod in, 67 _sq._;
  creeping through a holed stone or narrow opening in, 188 _sq._

——, Upper, use of mistletoe in, ii. 85 _n._ 4

Bavarian peasants, their belief as to hazel, ii. 69 _n._

Bavili, seclusion of girls at puberty among the, i. 31

Beal-fires on Midsummer Eve in Yorkshire, i. 198

Bean, King of the, i. 153 _n._ 1

Beans, divination by, i. 209

Bear, external soul of warrior in a, ii. 151;
  Basque hunter transformed into, 226, 270;
  simulated transformation of novice into a, 274 _sq._

—— clan, ii. 271, 272 _n._ 1

—— -dance of man who pretends to be a bear, ii. 274

Bear’s skin, Lapp women shoot blindfold at a, ii. 280 _n._

Bearers to carry royal personages, i. 3 _sq._

Beating girls at puberty, i. 61, 66 _sq._;
  as a form of purification, 61, 64 _sqq._

Beauce, festival of torches in, i. 113;
  story of a were-wolf in, 309

—— and Perche, Midsummer fires in, i. 188

Beaver clan, ii. 272

Bechuana belief as to sympathetic relation of man to wounded crocodile,
            ii. 210 _sq._

Bee, external soul of an ogre in a, ii. 101

Beech or fir used to make the Yule log, i. 249

—— -tree burnt in Lenten bonfire, i. 115 _sq._

Beeches, struck by lightning, proportion of, ii. 298 _sq._;
  free from mistletoe, 315

Bees thought to be killed by menstruous women, i. 96;
  ashes of bonfires used to cure ailments of, 142

Beetle, external soul in a, ii. 138, 140

Begetting novices anew at initiation, pretence of, ii. 248

Behar, the fire-walk in, ii. 5

_Beifuss_, German name for mugwort, ii. 60 _n._ 6

Bel, the fires of, i. 147, 157, 158 _sq._

Beleth, John, his _Rationale Divinorum Officiorum_ quoted, i. 161 _n._ 2

Belford, in Northumberland, the Yule log at, i. 256

Belgium, Lenten fires in, i. 107 _sq._;
  Midsummer fires in, 194 _sq._;
  the Yule log in, 249;
  bathing on Midsummer Day in, ii. 30;
  divination by flowers on Midsummer Eve in, 53;
  mugwort gathered on St. John’s Day or Eve in, 59 _sq._;
  vervain gathered on St. John’s Day in, 62;
  four-leaved clover at Midsummer in, 63;
  the witches’ Sabbath in, 73

Bella Coola Indians of British Columbia, seclusion of girls at puberty
            among the, i. 46;
  custom of mourners among the, ii. 174

Belli-Paaro society in West Africa, rites of initiation in the, ii. 257
            _sqq._

Bellochroy, i. 290

Bells worn by priest in exorcism, i. 5;
  on his legs, ii. 8

——, church, silenced in Holy Week, i. 123, 125 _n._ 1;
  rung on Midsummer Eve, ii. 47 _sq._;
  rung to drive away witches, 73

Beltane, popularly derived from Baal, i. 149 _n._ 1, 150 _n._ 1;
  the need-fire at, 293;
  the Yellow Day of, 293;
  sheep passed through a hoop at, ii. 184

—— and Hallowe’en the two chief fire-festivals of the British Celts, ii.
            40 _sq._

—— cakes, i. 148 _sq._, 150, 152, 153, 154, 155

—— carline, i. 148, 153

—— Eve (the Eve of May Day), a witching time, i. 295

—— fire, pretence of throwing a man into the, i. 148, ii. 25;
  kindled by the friction of oak-wood, i. 148, 155, ii. 91

—— fires, i. 146 _sqq._;
  in Wales, 155 _sq._;
  in Ireland, 157 _sq._;
  in Nottinghamshire, 157

Benametapa, the king of, in East Africa, i. 135

Bengal, seclusion of girls at puberty in, i. 68;
  the Oraons of, ii. 311

Bengalee stories of the external soul, ii. 101 _sq._, 102

Beni Ahsen, a tribe in Morocco, ii. 31;
  their Midsummer fires, i. 215 _sq._

—— Mgild, a Berber tribe of Morocco, their Midsummer fires, i. 215

—— Snous, the, of Morocco, their Midsummer rites, i. 216

Bent, J. Theodore, on passing sick children through a cleft oak, ii. 172

Berber belief as to water at Midsummer, ii. 31

—— tale, milk-tie in a, ii. 138 _n._ 1

Berbers of North Africa, their Midsummer customs, i. 213 _sqq._, 219

Bergen, Midsummer bonfires at, i. 171

Bering Strait, the Esquimaux of, i. 91

Berleburg, in Westphalia, the Yule log at, i. 248

Berlin, the divining-rod at, ii. 68

Bern, Midsummer fires in the canton of, i. 172;
  the Yule log in the canton of, 249;
  witches put to death in the canton of, ii. 42 _n._ 2

Berry, Lenten fire custom in, i. 115;
  Midsummer fires in, 189;
  the Yule log in, 251 _sq._;
  four-leaved clover at Midsummer in, ii. 63

Besoms, blazing, flung aloft to make the corn grow high, i. 340;
  used to drive away witches, ii. 74

Bethlehem, new Easter fire carried to, i. 130 _n._

“Between the two Beltane fires,” i. 149

Beul, fire of, need-fire, i. 293

Bevan, Professor A. A., i. 83 _n._ 1

Beverley, on the initiatory rites of the Virginian Indians, ii. 266 _sq._

Bewitched animals burnt alive, i. 300 _sqq._;
  buried alive, 324 _sqq._

—— cow, mugwort applied to, ii. 59

—— things burnt to compel the witch to appear, i. 322

Bhils of India, torture of witches among the, ii. 159

Bhuiyars of Mirzapur, their dread of menstrual pollution, i. 84

Bhuiyas, a Dravidian tribe, fire-walk among the, ii. 5 _sq._

_Bhut_, demon, ii. 312

Bidasari and the golden fish, Malay story of, ii. 147 _sq._, 220

Bilqula. _See_ Bella Coola

Binbinga tribe of Northern Australia, their rites of initiation, ii. 234
            _sq._;
  initiation of medicine-man in the, 239

Binding up a cleft stick or tree a mode of barricading the road against a
            ghostly pursuer, ii. 176

Bir, a tribal hero, ii. 6

Birch used to kindle need-fire, i. 291

—— and plane, fire made by the friction of, i. 220

——, branches of, on Midsummer Day, i. 177, 196;
  a protection against witchcraft, ii. 185

—— trees set up at Midsummer, i. 177;
  used to keep off witches, ii. 20 _n._;
  mistletoe on, 315

Bird, disease transferred to, ii. 187;
  brings first fire to earth, 295

Bird-lime made from mistletoe, ii. 317

Birds, external souls in, ii. 104, 111, 119, 142, 144, 150;
  carry seed of mistletoe, 316

Birseck, Lenten fires at, i. 119

Birth, the new, of novices at initiation, ii. 247, 251, 256, 257, 261

Birth-names of Central American Indians, ii. 214 _n._ 1

—— -trees in Africa, ii. 160 _sqq._;
  in Europe, 165

Birthday of the Sun at the winter solstice, i. 246

Bisection of the year, Celtic, i. 223

Black Corrie of Ben Breck, the giant of, in an Argyleshire tale, ii. 129
            _sq._

—— Forest, Midsummer fires in the, i. 168

—— Isle, Ross-shire, i. 301

—— poplars, mistletoe on, ii. 316, 318 _n._ 6

—— spauld, a disease of cattle, cure for, i. 325

—— three-legged horse ridden by witches, ii. 74

Blackening girls at puberty, i. 41, 60

Blemishes, physical, transferred to witches, i. 160 _n._ 1

Blindness of Hother, ii. 279 _n._ 4

Block, the Yule, i. 247

Blocksberg, the resort of witches, i. 171;
  the Mount of the Witches, ii. 74

Blood, girls at puberty forbidden to see, i. 46;
  disastrous effect of seeing menstruous, 77;
  drawn from women who do not menstruate, 81

—— -brotherhood between men and animals among the Fans, ii. 201, 226 _n._
            1

—— -covenant between men and animals, ii. 201, 214, 226 _n._ 1

——, human, used in rain-making ceremonies, ii. 232 _sq._

——, menstruous, dread of, i. 76;
  deemed fatal to cattle, 80;
  miraculous virtue attributed to, 82 _sq._;
  medicinal application of, 98 _n._ 1

—— of St. John found on St. John’s wort and other plants at Midsummer, ii.
            56, 57

—— of sheep poured on image of god as a sin-offering, i. 82

Boa-constrictors, kings at death turn into, ii. 212 _n._

Boas, Dr. Franz, on seclusion of Shuswap girls at puberty, i. 53;
  on customs observed by mourners among the Bella Coola Indians, ii. 174;
  on initiation into the wolf society of the Nootka Indians, 270 _sq._;
  on the relation between clans and secret societies, 273 _n._ 1

Boar’s skin, shoes of, worn by a king at inauguration, i. 4

Boars, familiar spirits of wizards in, ii. 196 _sq._;
  lives of persons bound up with those of, 201, 203, 205;
  external human souls in, 207

Bocage of Normandy, Midsummer fires in the, i. 185;
  the Yule log in the, 252;
  torchlight processions on Christmas Eve in the, 266

Body-without-soul in a Ligurian story, ii. 107;
  in a German story, 116 _sq._;
  in a Breton story, 132 _sq._;
  in a Basque story, 139

Boeotian festival of the Great Daedala, ii. 77 _n._ 1

Bogota, rigorous training of the heir to the throne of, i. 19

Bohemia, water and fire consecrated at Easter in, i. 123 _sq._;
  bonfires on May Day in, 159;
  Midsummer fires in, 173 _sqq._;
  need-fire in, 278 _sq._;
  charm to make corn grow high in, 340;
  offering to water-spirits on Midsummer Eve in, ii. 28;
  simples gathered on St. John’s Night in, 49;
  divination by means of flowers on Midsummer Eve in, 52 _sq._;
  mugwort at Midsummer in, 59;
  elder-flowers gathered at Midsummer in, 64;
  wild thyme gathered on Midsummer Day in, 64;
  fern-seed at Midsummer in, 66;
  “thunder besoms” in, 85;
  fern-seed on St. John’s Day in, 287, 288

Bohemian poachers, their use of vervain, ii. 62;
  their use of seeds of fir-cones, 64

—— story of the external soul, ii. 110

Bohus, Midsummer fires in, i. 172

_Boidès_, bonfires, i. 111 _n._ 1

Boiling bewitched animal or part of it to compel witch to appear, i. 321
            _sq._, 323

—— milk, omens drawn from, ii. 8

—— resin, ordeal of, i. 311

Boils, crawling under a bramble as a cure for, ii. 180

Bolivia, the Chiriguanos of, i. 56;
  the Yuracares of, 57 _sq._;
  fires on St. John’s Eve in, 213;
  La Paz in, ii. 50

Boloki of the Upper Congo, birth-plants among the, ii. 161 _sq._;
  use of bull-roarers among the, 229 _n._

Bondeis of German East Africa, rites of initiation among the, ii. 263
            _sq._

Bone used to point with in sorcery, i. 14;
  incident of, in folk-tales, 73 _n._ 3;
  of bird (eagle or swan), women at menstruation obliged to drink out of,
              45, 48, 49, 50, 73 _n._ 3, 90, 92

Bones burnt in the Easter bonfires, i. 142;
  burnt in Midsummer fires, 203

—— of dead husbands carried by their widows, i. 91 _n._ 4

Bonfire Day in County Leitrim, i. 203

Bonfires supposed to protect against conflagrations, i. 107, 108;
  protect houses against lightning and conflagration, 344;
  lit by the persons last married, 107, 109;
  a protection against witchcraft, 108, 109, 154;
  a protection against sickness, 108, 109;
  a protection against sorcery, 156;
  quickening and fertilizing influence of, 336 _sqq._;
  omens of marriage drawn from, 338 _sq._;
  protect fields against hail, 344;
  at festivals in India, ii. 1 _sqq._
  _See also_ Fires

Bonfires, Midsummer, intended to drive away dragons, i. 161;
  protect cattle against witchcraft, 188;
  thought to ensure good crops, 188, 336

Boniface, Archbishop of Mainz, i. 270

Bonnach stone in a Celtic story, ii. 126

_Bordes_, bonfires, i. 111 _n._ 1, 113

Borlase, William, on Midsummer fires in Cornwall, i. 199

Borneo, festivals in, i. 13;
  seclusion of girls at puberty in, 35 _sq._;
  birth-custom in, ii. 154 _sq._;
  trees and plants as life-indices in, 164 _sq._;
  creeping through a cleft stick after a funeral in, 175 _sq._;
  giving the slip to an evil spirit in, 179 _sq._

——, the Dyaks of, i. 5, ii. 222

——, the Kayans of, i. 4 _sq._

Bororo of Brazil, their use of bull-roarers, ii. 230 _n._

Borrow, witches come to, i. 322, 323, ii. 73

Bosnia, need-fire in, i. 286;
  life-trees of children in, ii. 165

Bossuet, Bishop, on the Midsummer bonfires, i. 182

Bottesford, in Lincolnshire, mistletoe deemed a remedy for epilepsy at,
            ii. 83

Bottle, external soul of queen in a, ii. 138

Bougainville, use of bull-roarers in, ii. 229 _n._

Bough, the Golden, ii. 279 _sqq._;
  and the priest of Aricia, i. 1;
  a branch of mistletoe, ii. 284 _sqq._, 315 _sqq._
  _See also_ Golden Bough

Boulia district of Queensland, i. 14

Bourbonnais, mistletoe a remedy for epilepsy in, ii. 83

_Bourdifailles_, bonfires, i. 111 _n._ 1

Bourke, Captain J. G., on the bull-roarer, ii. 231

Bowels, novice at initiation supplied by spirits with a new set of, ii.
            235 _sqq._

Bowes, in Yorkshire, need-fire at, i. 287

Box, external soul of king in a, ii. 102, 149;
  external soul of cannibal in a, 117

Boxes or arks, sacred, i. 11 _sq._

Box-tree, external soul of giant in a, ii. 133

Boxwood blessed on Palm Sunday, i. 184, ii. 47

Boy and girl produce need-fire by friction of wood, i. 281

Boys at initiation thought to be swallowed by wizards, ii. 233

Brabant, Midsummer fires in, i. 194;
  St. Peter’s bonfires in, 195;
  wicker giants in, ii. 35

Bracelets as amulets, i. 92

Braemar Highlanders, their Hallowe’en fires, i. 233 _sq._

Brahman, the Hindoo creator, i. 95

Brahman called “twice born,” ii. 276

—— boys forbidden to see the sun, i. 68 _n._ 2

—— student, his observances at end of his studentship, i. 20

Brahmanic ritual at inauguration of a king, i. 4

Bramble, crawling under a, as a cure for whooping-cough, etc., ii. 180

Brand, John, on the Yule log, i. 247, 255

Brandenburg, simples culled at Midsummer in, ii. 48

_Brandons_, the Sunday of the, i. 110;
  torches carried about fields and streets, 111 _n._ 1

Brands of Midsummer fires a protection against lightning, conflagration,
            and spells, i. 183;
  a protection against thunder, 191;
  lighted, carried round cattle, 341

Braunrode in the Harz Mountains, Easter fires at, i. 142

Brazier, walking through a lighted, ii. 3 _sqq._

Brazil, the Guaranis of, i. 56;
  seclusion of girls at puberty among the Indians of, 56, 59 _sq._;
  the Uaupes of, 61;
  ordeals undergone by young men among the Indians of, 62 _sq._;
  effigies of Judas burnt at Easter in, 128;
  fires of St. John in, 213;
  the Caripunas of, ii. 230;
  the Bororo of, 230 _n._;
  the Nahuqua of, 230;
  the Bakairi of, 231

Bread, reverence for, i. 13

Breadalbane, i. 149;
  treatment of mad cow in, 326

Breadfruit-tree planted over navel-string of child, ii. 163

“Breath, scoring above the,” cutting a witch on the forehead, i. 315 _n._
            2

Breitenbrunn, the “Charcoal Man” at, ii. 26 _n._ 2

Brekinjska, in Slavonia, need-fire at, i. 282

Bresse, Midsummer bonfires in, i. 189

Brest, Midsummer fire-custom at, i. 184

Breteuil, canton of, Midsummer fires in the, i. 187

Breton belief that women can be impregnated by the moon, i. 76

—— stories of the external soul, ii. 132 _sq._

Brezina, in Slavonia, need-fire at, i. 282

Briar-thorn, divination by, i. 242

Bri-bri Indians of Costa Rica, seclusion of women at menstruation among
            the, i. 86

Bride not allowed to tread the earth, i. 5;
  last married, made to leap over bonfire, ii. 22

—— and bridegroom, mock, at bonfires, i. 109 _sq._

Bride, parish of, in the Isle of Man, i. 306, 307 _n._ 1

Bridegroom not to touch the ground with his feet, i. 5

Brie, Isle de France, effigy of giant burnt on Midsummer Eve at, ii. 38

Brihaspati, Hindoo deity, i. 99 _n._ 2

Briony, wreaths of, at Midsummer, i. 210

Brisbane River in Queensland, use of bull-roarers on the, ii. 233 _sqq._

British Columbia, seclusion of girls at puberty among the Indians of, i.
            46 _sqq._;
  dread and seclusion of menstruous women among the Indians of, 89 _sq._;
  the Kwakiutl of, ii. 186;
  Koskimo Indians of, 229;
  rites of initiation among the Indians of, 270 _sqq._;
  the Thompson Indians of, 297;
  the Shuswap Indians of, 297 _n._ 3

Brittany, Midsummer fires in, i. 183 _sqq._;
  stones thrown into the Midsummer fires in, 240;
  the Yule log in, 253;
  mistletoe hung over doors of stables and byres in, ii. 287;
  fern-seed used by treasure-seekers in, 288

_Brochs_, prehistoric ruins, i. 291

Brocken, in the Harz mountains, associated with witches, i. 160 _n._ 1,
            171 _n._ 3

Broom, a protective against witchcraft, i. 210

“Brother” and “sister,” titles given by men and women to their sex totems,
            ii. 215, 216, 218

Brotherhood of the Green Wolf at Jumièges in Normandy, i. 185 _sq._

Brothers, ancient Egyptian story of the Two, ii. 134 _sqq._

Brown, Dr. George, quoted, i. 32 _sqq._;
  on external soul in Melanesia, ii. 199

Brughe, John, his cure for bewitched cattle, i. 324 _sq._

Brund (or brand), the Christmas, the Yule log, i. 257

Brunswick, belief as to menstruous women in, i. 96;
  Easter bonfires in, 140;
  need-fire in, 277 _sq._

Buchan, Hallowe’en fires in, i. 232 _sq._

_Bûche de Noël_, the Yule log, i. 249

Buddha and the crocodile, Indian story, ii. 102 _n._ 4

Buffalo, external souls of a clan in a, ii. 151;
  a Batta totem, 223

—— clan in Uganda, i. 3

Buffaloes, external human souls in, ii. 207, 208

Bühl, St. John’s fires at, i. 168

Bukaua, the, of New Guinea, girls at puberty secluded among the, i. 35;
  their rites of initiation, ii. 239 _sqq._

_Bu-ku-rú_, ceremonial uncleanness, i. 65 _n._ 1, 86

Buléon, Mgr., quoted by Father H. Trilles, ii. 202 _n._ 1

Bulgaria, the Yule log in, i. 264 _n._ 1;
  need-fire in, 281, 285;
  simples and flowers culled on St. John’s Day in, ii. 50;
  creeping through an arch of vines as a cure in, 180;
  creeping under the root of a willow as a cure for whooping-cough in, 180
              _sq._

——, Simeon, prince of, ii. 156 _sq._

Bullet blessed by St. Hubert used to shoot witches with, i. 315 _sq._

Bullock, bewitched, burnt to cause the witch to appear, i. 303

Bull-roarers swung, i. 133;
  sounded at initiation of lads, ii. 227, 228 _sqq._, 233 _sqq._, 240,
              241;
  used as magical instruments to make rain, 230 _sqq._;
  sounded at festivals of the dead, 230 _n._;
  made from trees struck by lightning, 231;
  sounded to make the wind blow, 232;
  called “thunder and lightning,” 232;
  sounded to promote the growth of the crops, 232;
  originally magical instruments for making thunder, wind, and rain, 233;
  not to be seen by women, 234, 235, 242;
  called by name which means a ghost or spirit of the dead, 242;
  called by the same name as the monster who swallows lads at initiation,
              242;
  kept in men’s club-house, 242;
  named after dead men, 242 _n._ 1

——, sound of, thought to resemble thunder, ii. 228 _sqq._;
  supposed to increase the food supply, 230;
  supposed to be the voice of a spirit, 233, 234, 235

Burchard, Bishop of Worms, his condemnation of a heathen practice, ii. 191

_Bures_, bonfires, i. 110 _n._ 1, 111 _n._ 1

Burford, in Oxfordshire, Midsummer giant and dragon at, ii. 37

Burghead, the burning of the Clavie at, i. 266 _sq._;
  the old rampart at, 267 _sq._

Burgundy, Firebrand Sunday in, i. 114;
  the Yule log in, 254

Burma, the Karens of, ii. 157

Burne, Miss F. C., and Jackson, Miss G. F., on the fear of witchcraft in
            Shropshire, i. 342 _n._ 4

Burning the witches on May Day, i. 157, 159, 160;
  of effigies in the Midsummer fires, 195;
  of the witches in the Hallowe’en fires, 232 _sq._;
  of the Clavie at Burghead, 266 _sq._;
  of a bewitched animal or part of it to cause the witch to appear, 303,
              305, 307 _sq._, 321 _sq._;
  of human beings in the fires, ii. 21 _sqq._;
  of live animals at spring and Midsummer festivals, 38 _sqq._;
  the animals perhaps deemed embodiments of witches, 41 _sq._, 43 _sq._;
  of human victims annually, 286 _n._ 2

—— discs thrown into the air, i. 116 _sq._, 119, 143, 165, 166, 168 _sq._,
            172

—— the Easter Man, i. 144

“—— the Old Wife (Old Woman),” i. 116, 120

“—— the Witches,” i. 116, 118 _sq._, 154;
  a popular name for the fires of the festivals, ii. 43

—— wheels rolled down hill, i. 116, 117 _sq._, 119, 141, 143, 161, 162
            _sq._, 163 _sq._, 166, 173, 174, 201, 328, 334, 337 _sq._;
  rolled over fields at Midsummer to fertilize them, 191, 340 _sq._;
  perhaps intended to burn witches, 345

Burns, Robert, i. 207;
  on Hallowe’en, 234

Burnt sacrifices to stay cattle-plague in England, Wales, and Scotland, i.
            300 _sqq._

Burs, a preservative against witchcraft, i. 177

Burying bewitched animals alive, i. 324 _sqq._

—— girls at puberty in the ground, i. 38 _sqq._

Bushmen, their dread of menstruous women, i. 79;
  their way of warming up the star Sirius, 332 _sq._

Bushongo, royal persons among the, not allowed to set foot on the ground,
            i. 4;
  use of bull-roarers among the, ii. 229;
  rites of initiation among the, 264 _sqq._

Butter thought to be improved by the Midsummer fires, i. 180;
  bewitched, burnt at a cross-road, 322

“—— -churning,” Swiss expression for kindling a need-fire, i. 279

Byron, Lord, and the oak, ii. 166

Cabbages, divination by, at Hallowe’en, i. 242.
  _See also_ Kail

Caesar on the fortification walls of the Gauls, i. 267;
  on human sacrifices among the Celts of Gaul, ii. 32

Caesarea. _See_ Everek

Caffre villages, women’s tracks at, i. 80

Caffres of South Africa, seclusion of girls at puberty among the, i. 30;
  use of bull-roarers among the, ii. 229 _n._, 232

Cages, girls at puberty confined in, i. 32 _sqq._, 44, 45

_Cailleach beal-tine_, the Beltane carline, i. 148

Cairnshee, in Kincardineshire, Midsummer fires on, i. 206

Caithness, need-fire in, i. 290 _sqq._

Cake, St. Michael’s, i. 149, 154 _n._ 3;
  salt, divination by, 238 _sq._;
  the Yule or Christmas, 257, 259, 261

Cakes, Hallowe’en, i. 238, 241, 245;
  Beltane, 148 _sq._, 150, 152, 153, 154, 155;
  divination by, 242, 243

Calabar, soul of chief in sacred grove at, ii. 161;
  negroes of, their belief in external or bush souls lodged in animals,
              204 _sqq._, 220, 222 _n._ 5;
  the fattening-house for girls in, 259

Calabria, holy water at Easter in, i. 123

Calamities, almost all, set down to witchcraft, ii. 19 _sq._

Calendar, change in the Chinese, i. 137;
  Mohammedan, 216 _sq._, 218 _sq._;
  the Julian, used by Mohammedans, 218 _sq._;
  the reform of, in relation to floral superstitions, ii. 55 _n._ 1

Calendars, conflict of, i. 218

_Calendeau_, _calignau_, the Yule-log, i. 250

Calf burnt alive to stop a murrain, i. 300 _sq._

California, seclusion of girls at puberty among the Indians of, i. 41
            _sqq._;
  ordeals among the Indians of, 64;
  the Senal Indians of, ii. 295;
  the Maidu Indians of, 295, 298

Callander, the parish of, Beltane fires in, i. 150 _sqq._;
  Hallowe’en fires in, 231

Calves burnt to stop disease in the herds, i. 301, 306

Calymnos, a Greek island, superstition as to menstruous women in, i. 96
            _sq._;
  Midsummer fires in, 212

Cambodia, seclusion of girls at puberty in, i. 70;
  ritual at cutting a parasitic orchid in, ii. 81

Cambodian or Siamese story of the external soul, ii. 102

Cambridgeshire, witch as cat in, i. 317

Cambus o’ May, near Ballater, holed stone at, ii. 187

Cameroons, life of person bound up with tree in the, ii. 161;
  theory of the external soul in, 200, 202 _sq._

Camomile (_Anthemis nobilis_) burnt in Midsummer fire, i. 213;
  sacred to Balder, ii. 63;
  gathered at Midsummer, 63

Campbell, Rev. J. G., on _deiseal_, i. 151 _n._

Campbell, Rev. John, on Coranna customs, ii. 192, 192 _n._ 1

Campo di Giove, in the Abruzzi, Easter candles at, i. 122

Candle, the Easter or Paschal, i. 121, 122, 125;
  divination by the flame of a, 229;
  the Yule or Christmas, 255, 256, 260;
  external soul in a, ii. 125 _sq._

—— and apple, biting at, i. 241, 242, 243, 245

Candlemas in the Armenian church, bonfires at, i. 131;
  the Yule log at, 256 _n._

—— candles, i. 264 _n._ 4

Candles used to keep off witches, i. 245

Canopus and Sirius in Bushman lore, i. 333

Capart, Jean, on palettes found in Egyptian tombs, ii. 155 _n._ 3

Cape York Peninsula in Queensland, i. 37, 38

Caper-spurge (_Euphorbia lathyris_) identified with mythical springwort,
            ii. 69

Capital of column, external soul in, ii. 156 _sq._

Capitol at Rome, the oak of Jupiter on the, ii. 89

Cappadocia, the fire-walk at Castabala in, ii. 14

Capri, feast of the Nativity of the Virgin in, i. 220 _sq._

Capricorn, time when the sun enters the tropic of, ii. 1

Caps worn in mourning, i. 20

Cardiganshire, Hallowe’en in, i. 226

Caribs, their theory of the plurality of souls, ii. 221

Carinthia, new fire at Easter in, i. 124

Caripunas Indians of Brazil, use of bull-roarers among the, ii. 230 _n._

Carmichael, Alexander, on need-fire, i. 293 _sqq._;
  on snake stones, ii. 311

Carn Brea, in Cornwall, Midsummer fires on, i. 199

Carnarvonshire, the cutty black sow in, i. 240

Carnival, effigy burnt at end of, i. 120;
  wicker giants at the, ii. 35

Carnmoor, in Mull, need-fire kindled on, i. 289 _sq._

Carnwarth, in Cornwall, Midsummer fires at, i. 199

Caroline Islands, traditionary origin of fire in the, ii. 295

Carpathian Mountains, Midsummer fires on the, i. 175;
  need-fire in the, 281;
  the Huzuls of the, ii. 49

Carrier Indians of North-Western America, funeral custom of the, i. 11;
  their dread and seclusion of menstruous women, 91 _sqq._;
  their honorific totems, ii. 273 _sqq._

Carver, Captain Jonathan, his description of the rite of death and
            resurrection, ii. 267 _sq._

Casablanca, Midsummer fires at, i. 214

Cashmeer stories of the external soul, ii. 100 _sq._, 138 _n._ 1

Caspar, Balthasar, and Melchior, the Three Holy Kings, ii. 68

Cassel, in France, wicker giants on Shrove Tuesday at, ii. 35

Cassowaries, men disguised as, in Duk-duk ceremonies, ii. 247

Castabala, in Cappadocia, the fire-walk at, ii. 14

Castiglione a Casauria, Midsummer customs at, i. 210

Castle Ditches, in the Vale of Glamorgan, bonfires at, i. 156

Castres, in Southern France, ii. 187

Cat, a representative of the devil, ii. 40;
  story of a clan whose souls were all in one, 150 _sq._;
  a Batta totem, 223.
  _See also_ Cats

Caterpillars, bonfires as a protection against, i. 114

Catholic Church, its consecration of the Midsummer festival to St. John
            the Baptist, i. 181

Cato on a Roman cure for dislocation, ii. 177

Cats burnt in bonfires, i. 109, ii. 39 _sq._;
  perhaps burnt as witches, 41;
  witches changed into, i. 315 _n._ 1, 317, 318, 319 _sq._, ii. 311 _sq._

Cattle sacrificed at holy oak, i. 181;
  protected against sorcery by sprigs of mullein, 190;
  fire carried round, 201, 206;
  driven out to pasture in spring and back in autumn, 223;
  acquire the gift of speech on Christmas Eve, 254;
  driven through the need-fire, 270 _sqq._;
  killed by fairy darts, 303;
  lighted brands carried round, 341;
  thought to benefit by festivals of fire, ii. 4, 7;
  fumigated with smoke of Midsummer herbs, 53

—— and sheep driven through, round, or between bonfires, i. 108, 109, 141,
            154, 157, 158, 159, 165, 175, 176, 179, 185, 188, 192, 202,
            203, 204, 301, ii. 8, 9, 11 _sq._, 13

—— disease, the Midsummer fires a protection against, i. 176;
  attributed to witchcraft, 302 _sq._, 343

—— -plague, need-fire kindled as a remedy for, i. 270 _sqq._;
  sacrifice of an animal to stay a, 300 _sqq._

—— -rearing tribes of South Africa, their dread of menstruous women, i. 79
            _sq._

Cave, initiation of medicine-men by spirits in a, ii. 237 _sqq._

—— of Cruachan, the “Hell-gate of Ireland,” i. 226

Cedar-bark, red, used in ceremonies of a secret society, ii. 271

Celebes, Macassar in, i. 14;
  souls of persons removed for safety from their bodies in, ii. 153 _sq._

——, Central, the Toradjas of, i. 311 _sqq._

——, Southern, birth-trees in, ii. 164

Celibacy of the Vestal Virgins, i. 138 _n._ 5

Celtic bisection of the year, i. 223

—— population, their superstition as to Snake Stones, i. 15

—— stories of the external soul, ii. 126 _sqq._

Celts, their two great fire-festivals on the Eve of May Day and
            Hallowe’en, i. 222, 224;
  the oak worshipped by the, ii. 89

——, the British, their chief fire-festivals, Beltane and Hallowe’en, ii.
            40 _sq._

—— of Brittany, their use of mistletoe, ii. 320

—— of Gaul, their human sacrifices, ii. 32 _sq._;
  the victims perhaps witches and wizards, 41 _sq._;
  W. Mannhardt’s theory, 43

—— of Ireland, their new fire on Hallowe’en, i. 139

—— of northern Italy, ii. 320

Celts (prehistoric implements) called “thunderbolts,” i. 14 _sq._

Central Provinces of India, cure for fever in the, ii. 190

Ceos, Greek island of, sick children passed through a cleft oak in, ii.
            172

Ceram, seclusion of girls at puberty in, i. 36;
  belief that strength of young people is in their hair in, ii. 158;
  rites of initiation to the Kakian association in, 249 _sqq._

Ceremony, magical, to ensure fertility of women, i. 23 _sq._, 31

Cetraro in Calabria, Easter custom at, i. 123

Ceylon, the king of, and his external soul, ii. 102

Chaco, the Gran, i. 58;
  marriage custom of Indians of the, i. 75;
  Indians of the, i. 98 _n._ 1

——, the Paraguayan, i. 56

Chadwick, Professor H. M., i. 103 _n._

Chaka, Zulu king, ii. 212 _n._

Chalk, white, bodies of newly initiated lads coated with, ii. 241

Chambers, E. K., on the Celtic bisection of the year, i. 223

“Charcoal Man” at Midsummer, ii. 26 _n._ 2

Charente Inférieure, department of, St. John’s fires in the, i. 192

Chariot, patient drawn through the yoke of a, ii. 192

Chariots used by sacred persons, i. 4 _n._ 1

Charlemagne, i. 270

Chaste young men kindle need-fire, i. 273

Chastity associated with abstinence from salt, i. 27 _sq._

Château-Tierry, Midsummer fires at, i. 187 _sq._

Chatham Islands, birth-trees in the, ii. 165

_Chavandes_, bonfires, i. 109 _n._ 2

Cheadle, in Staffordshire, the Yule log at, i. 256

Cheese, the Beltane, kept as a charm against the bewitching of
            milk-produce, i. 154

_Chêne-Doré_, “the gilded oak,” in Perche, ii. 287 _n._ 1

Chepstow oak, in Gloucestershire, ii. 316

Cheremiss of the Volga, their Midsummer festival, i. 181

Cherokees, their sacred arks, i. 11 _sq._;
  their ideas as to trees struck by lightning, ii. 296 _sq._

Cherry-tree wood used for Yule log, i. 250

—— -trees, torches thrown at, i. 108

Chervil-seed burnt in Midsummer fire, i. 213

_Chesnitsa_, Christmas cake, i. 261

Chester, Midsummer giants at, ii. 37

_Chevannes_, bonfires, i. 111 _n._ 1

Cheyenne Indians, seclusion of girls at puberty among the, i. 54 _sq._

—— women secluded at menstruation, i. 89

Chiaromonte, Midsummer custom at, i. 210

Chibisa, an African chief, ii. 314

_Chicha_, a native intoxicant, i. 57, 58

Chicory, the white flower of, opens all locks, ii. 71

Chief’s daughter, ceremonies observed by her at puberty, i. 30, 43

Chikumbu, a Yao chief, ii. 314

Chilblains, the Yule log a preventive of, i. 250

Childbirth, customs observed by women after, i. 20

Childless couples leap over bonfires to procure offspring, i. 214, 338

Childless women creep through a holed stone, ii. 187

Children live apart from their parents among the Baganda, i. 23 _n._ 2;
  born feet foremost, curative power attributed to, 295;
  passed across the Midsummer fires, 182, 189 _sq._, 192, 203;
  passed through holes in ground or turf to cure them, ii. 190 _sq._

Chillingworth, Thomas, passed through a cleft ash-tree for rupture, ii.
            168 _sq._

Chimney, witches fly up the, ii. 74

—— -piece, divination by names on, i. 237

China, were-wolves in, i. 310 _sq._;
  annual ceremony of the new fire in, 136 _sq._, ii. 3;
  use of fire to bar ghosts in, 17 _sq._;
  spirits of plants in snake form in, 44 _n._ 1;
  use of mugwort in, 60

Chinese festival of fire, ii. 3 _sqq._;
  story of the external soul, 145 _sq._;
  theories as to the human soul, 221

Chinook Indians, seclusion of girls at puberty among the, i. 43

Chippeway Indians, their dread and seclusion of menstruous women, i. 90
            _sq._

Chiquites Indians of Paraguay, their theory of sickness, ii. 226 _n._ 1

Chirbury, in Shropshire, the Yule log at, i. 257

Chiriguanos of Bolivia, seclusion of girls at puberty among the, i. 56

Choctaw women secluded at menstruation, i. 88

Chopping-knife, soul of woman in childbirth transferred for safety to a,
            ii. 153 _sq._

Chota Nagpur, the fire-walk in, ii. 5

Chouquet, in Normandy, the Green Wolf at, i. 185

_Christbrand_, the Yule log, i. 248

Christenburg Crags, in Northumberland, Midsummer fires at, i. 198

Christian Church, its treatment of witches, ii. 42

_Christklotz_, the Yule log, i. 248

Christmas, an old pagan festival of the sun, i. 246, 331 _sq._;
  new fire made by the friction of wood at, 264;
  mistletoe gathered at, ii. 291

—— cake, i. 257, 259, 261

—— candle, the, i. 255, 256, 260

—— Eve, cattle acquire the gift of speech on, i. 254;
  trees fumigated with wild thyme on, ii. 64;
  the fern blooms at, 66;
  witches dreaded on, 73;
  sick children passed through cleft trees on, 172

—— night, fern-seed blooms on, ii. 289

—— pig, i. 259

—— visiter, the, i. 261 _sq._, 263, 264

Church, the Christian, its treatment of witches, ii. 42

—— bells on Midsummer Eve, custom as to ringing, ii. 47 _sq._;
  rung to drive away witches, 73

Churches used as places of divination at Hallowe’en, i. 229

_Churinga_, sacred sticks and stones of the Arunta, ii. 218 _n._ 3, 234

Chu-Tu-shi, a Chinese were-tiger, i. 310 _sq._

Ciotat, Midsummer rites of fire and water at, i. 194

Circumambulating fields with lighted torches, i. 233 _sq._

Circumcision, custom at, among the Washamba, ii. 183;
  of lads at initiation in Australia, 227 _sq._, 233, 234, 235;
  in New Guinea, 240 _sq._;
  in Fiji, 243 _sq._;
  in Rook, 246;
  custom of, on the Lower Congo, 251, 255 _n._ 1

_Clach-nathrach_, serpent stone, ii. 311

Clam shell, sacred, of the Omahas, i. 11

Clan of the Cat, ii. 150 _sq._

Clappers, used instead of church bells in Holy Week, i. 125;
  wooden, used in China, 137

Classificatory system of relationship, ii. 234 _n._ 1, 314 _n._ 4

Claudius, the emperor, i. 15

Clavie, the burning of the, at Burghead, i. 266 _sq._

Clay plastered on girls at puberty, i. 31;
  white, bodies of novices at initiation smeared with, ii. 255 _n._ 1, 259

Cleary, Bridget, burnt as a witch in Tipperary, i. 323 _sq._

——, Michael, burns his wife as a witch, i. 323 _sq._

Clee, in Lincolnshire, the Yule log at, i. 257

—— Hills, in Shropshire, fear of witchcraft in the, i. 342 _n._ 4

Cleft stick, passage through a, in connexion with puberty and
            circumcision, ii. 183 _sq._

_Climacteris scandens_, women’s “sister” among the Kulin, ii. 216

Clodd, Edward, on the external soul, ii. 96 _n._ 1

Clog, the Yule, i. 247

Clonmel, trial for witch-burning at, i. 324

Clover, four-leaved, a counter-charm for witchcraft, i. 316;
  found at Midsummer, ii. 62 _sq._

Clue of yarn, divination by a, i. 235, 240, 241, 243

Coal, magical, that turns to gold at Midsummer, ii. 60 _sq._

Coast Murring tribe of New South Wales, the drama of resurrection
            exhibited to novices at initiation in the, ii. 235 _sqq._

Cobern, effigy burnt at, i. 120

Coblentz, i. 248

_Coccus Polonica_ and St. John’s blood, ii. 56

Cock, effigy of, in bonfire, i. iii;
  a black, used as counter-charm to witchcraft, 321;
  white, burnt in Midsummer bonfire, ii. 40;
  external soul of ogre in a, 100;
  killed on harvest-field, 280 _n._;
  red, killed to cure person struck by lightning, 298 _n._ 2

—— or hen, striking blindfold at a, ii. 279 _n._ 4

Cock’s blood poured on divining-rod, ii. 282

Cockchafer, external soul in a golden, ii. 140

Cockchafers, witches as, i. 322

Coco-nut, soul of child deposited in a, i. 154 _sq._

—— palm planted over navel-string and afterbirth of child, ii. 161, 163,
            compare 164;
  attracts lightning, 299 _n._ 2

Codrington, Dr. R. H., on the Melanesian conception of the external soul,
            ii. 197 _sq._

_Coel Coeth_, Hallowe’en bonfire, i. 239

Cohen, S. S., i. 128 _n._ 1

Coil, sick children passed through a, ii. 185 _sq._

Cold food, festival of the, in China, i. 137

Cole, Lieut.-Colonel H. W. G., on a custom of the Lushais, ii. 185 _sq._

Colic, popular remedies for, i. 17;
  leaping over bonfires as a preventive of, 107, 195 _sq._, 344;
  attributed to witchcraft, 344

Coll, the Hole Stone in the island of, ii. 187

Colleda, an old Servian goddess, i. 259

Cologne, St. John’s fourteen Midsummer victims at, ii. 27

Colombia, the Goajiras of, i. 34 _n._ 1;
  Guacheta in, 74

Combe d’Ain, i. 114

Comminges, Midsummer fires in, i. 192 _sq._

Community, welfare of, bound up with the life of the divine king, i. 1
            _sq._;
  purified in the persons of its representatives, ii. 24

Condé, in Normandy, i. 266

Conductivity, electric, of various kinds of wood, ii. 299 _n._ 2

Conflagrations, bonfires supposed to protect against, i. 107, 108, 140,
            142, 344;
  brands of Midsummer bonfires thought to be a protection against, 165,
              174, 183, 188, 196;
  the Yule log a protection against, 248 _sq._, 250, 255, 256, 258;
  Midsummer flowers a protection against, ii. 48;
  mountain arnica a protection against, 58;
  oak-mistletoe a protection against, 85

Conflict of calendars, solar and lunar, i. 218

Congo, seclusion of girls at puberty on the Lower, i. 31;
  birth-trees on the, 161 _sq._;
  theory of the external soul on the, ii. 200;
  use of bull-roarers on the, 229

——, the French, the Fans of, ii. 161

——, the Lower, rites of initiation on the, ii. 251 _sqq._

Connaught, Midsummer fires in, i. 203;
  cave of Cruachan in, 226;
  palace of the kings of, ii. 127

Connemara, Midsummer fires in, i. 203

Constance, the Lake of, ii. 26

Constantinople, column at, ii. 157

Consumption, ashes of the Midsummer fires a cure for, i. 194 _sq._;
  transferred to bird, ii. 187

Consumptive patients passed through holes in stones or rocks, ii. 186
            _sq._

Continence as preparation for walking through fire, ii. 3

Conty, Lenten fires at, i. 113

Conway, Professor R. S., on the etymology of Soranus, ii. 15 _n._ 1

Cook, A. B., on the oak of Errol, ii. 284 _n._ 1

Cook, menstruous women not allowed to, i. 80, 82, 84, 90

Copper needle, story of man who could only be killed by a, ii. 314

Corannas, a Hottentot people, children after an illness passed under an
            arch among the, ii. 192

Cords tied tightly round the bodies of girls at puberty, i. 92 _n._ 1

Corea, custom observed after childbirth by women in, i. 20;
  use of torches to ensure good crops in, 340

Cormac, on Beltane fires, i. 157

Cor-mass, procession of wicker giants at Dunkirk, ii. 34

Corn, charm to make the corn grow tall, i. 18;
  thrown on the man who brings in the Yule log, 260, 262, 264;
  blazing besoms flung aloft to make the corn grow high, 340

—— -spirit in last standing corn, i. 12;
  human representatives of, put to death, ii. 25;
  in animal shape, 43

Cornel-tree wood used to kindle need-fire, i. 286

Cornwall, Snake Stones in, i. 15, 16 _n._ 1;
  Midsummer fires in, 199 _sq._;
  burnt sacrifices to stay cattle-disease in, 300 _sq._;
  holed stone through which people used to creep in, ii. 187

Corpse, priest of Earth forbidden to see a, i. 4

Corpus Christi Day, processions on, i. 165

Corrèze and Creuse, departments of, St. John’s fires in the, i. 190

Corsica, Midsummer fires in, i. 209

Cos, effigies of Judas burnt at Easter in, i. 130;
  Midsummer fires in, 212

Cosquin, E., on helpful animals and external souls in folk-tales, ii. 133
            _n._ 1

_Cosse de Nau_, the Yule log, i. 251

Costa Rica, Indians of, their customs in fasts, i. 20;
  ceremonial uncleanness among the, 65 _n._ 1;
  the Bri-bri Indians of, 86;
  the Guatusos of, ii. 230 _n._

Coudreau, H., quoted, i. 63 _sq._

Coulommiers, in France, notion as to mistletoe at, ii. 316 _n._ 1

Counter-charm for witchcraft, “scoring above the breath,” i. 316 _n._ 2

Couples married within the year obliged to dance by torchlight, i. 115,
            339

Coventry, Midsummer giants at, ii. 37

Cows, witches steal milk from, i. 343;
  mistletoe given to, ii. 86;
  milked through a hole in a branch or a “witch’s nest,” 185

Crackers burnt to frighten ghosts, ii. 17, 18

Cracow, Midsummer fires in the district of, i. 175

Cream, ceremony for thickening, i. 262

Creek Indians, their dread of menstruous women, i. 88

Creeping through a tunnel as a remedy for an epidemic, i. 283 _sq._;
  through cleft trees as cure for various maladies, ii. 170 _sqq._;
  through narrow openings in order to escape ghostly pursuers, 177 _sqq._

Creuse and Corrèze, departments of, St. John’s fires in the, i. 190

Criminals shorn to make them confess, ii. 158 _sq._

Croatia, Midsummer fires in, i. 178

Croats of Istria, their belief as to the activity of witches on Midsummer
            Eve, ii. 75

Crocodile, a Batta totem, ii. 223

Crocodiles, fat of, i. 14;
  lives of persons bound up with those of, ii. 201, 202, 206, 209;
  external human souls in, 207, 209

Cronus, cakes offered to, i. 153 _n._ 3

Crops supposed to be spoiled by menstruous women, i. 79, 96;
  leaping over bonfires to ensure good, 107;
  Midsummer fires thought to ensure good, 188, 336;
  torches swung by eunuchs to ensure good, 340;
  bull-roarers sounded to promote the growth of the, ii. 232

Cross River natives, their lives bound up with those of certain animals,
            ii. 202 _sq._, 204

—— -roads, ceremonies at, i. 24;
  witches at, 160 _n._ 1;
  Midsummer fires lighted at, 172, 191;
  divination at, 229;
  bewitched things burnt at, 322

Crosses chalked up to protect houses and cattle-stalls against witches, i.
            160 _n._ 1, ii. 74

Crow, hooded, sacrifice to, i. 152

_Crowdie_, a dish of milk and meal, i. 237

Crown or garland of flowers in Midsummer bonfire, i. 184, 185, 188, 192;
  of Roses, festival of the, 195.
  _See also_ Flowers

Cruachan, the herdsman or king of, Argyleshire story of, ii. 127 _sqq._;
  in Connaught, the cave of, i. 226

_Cryptocerus atratus_, F., stinging ants, i. 62

Cuissard, Ch., on Midsummer fires, i. 182 _sq._

Cumae, the Sibyl at, i. 99

Cumanus, inquisitor, ii. 158

Cumberland, Midsummer fires in, i. 197

Cups, special, used by girls at puberty, i. 50, 53

Curative powers ascribed to persons born feet foremost, i. 295

Cures, popular, prescribed by Marcellus of Bordeaux, i. 17

Cursing a mist in Switzerland, i. 280

Cuzco, ceremony of the new fire in, i. 132

Cycle of thirty years (Druidical), ii. 77

Cycles of sixty years (Boeotian, Indian, and Tibetan), ii. 77 _n._ 1

Cythnos, Greek island, sickly children pushed through a hole in a rock in,
            ii. 189

Czechs cull simples at Midsummer, ii. 49

Dacotas or Sioux, ritual of death and resurrection among the, ii. 268
            _sq._

Daedala, Boeotian festival of the Great, ii. 77 _n._ 1

Dairy, mistletoe used to make the dairy thrive, ii. 86

Daizan, king of Atrae, i. 83

Dalhousie Castle, the Edgewell Tree at, ii. 166

Dalmatia, the Yule log in, i. 263

Dalyell, J. G., on Beltane, i. 149 _n._ 1

Damun, in German New Guinea, ceremony of initiation at, ii. 193

Danae, the story of, i. 73 _sq._

Dance at Sipi in Northern India, i. 12;
  of young women at puberty, ii. 183;
  in the grave at initiation, 237;
  in honour of the big or grey wolf, 276 _n._ 2

Dances of fasting men and women at festival, i. 8 _sq._;
  of Duk-duk society, 11;
  of girls at puberty, 28, 29, 30, 37, 42, 50, 58, 59;
  round bonfires, 108, 109, 110, 111, 114, 116, 120, 131, 142, 145, 148,
              153 _sq._, 159, 166, 172, 173, 175, 178, 182, 183, 185, 187,
              188, 189, 191, 193, 194, 195, 198, 246, ii. 2, 39;
  masked, bull-roarers used at, 230 _n._;
  of novices at initiation, 258, 259

Dancing with the fairies at Hallowe’en, i. 227

Dandelions gathered at Midsummer, ii. 49

Danger apprehended from the sexual relation, ii. 277 _sq._

Dangers thought to attend women at menstruation, i. 94

Danish stories of the external soul, ii. 120 _sqq._

—— story of a girl who was forbidden to see the sun, i. 70 _sqq._

_Danserosse_ or _danseresse_, a stone, i. 110

Danube, worship of Grannus on the, i. 112

Danzig, the immortal lady of, i. 100

_Daphne gnidium_ gathered at Midsummer, ii. 51

Dapper, O., on ritual of death and resurrection at initiation in the
            Belli-Paaro society, ii. 257 _sqq._

Daramulun, a mythical being who instituted and superintends the initiation
            of lads in Australia, ii. 228, 233, 237;
  his voice heard in the sound of the bull-roarer, 228.
  _See also_ Thrumalun and Thuremlin

“Darding Knife,” pretence of death and resurrection at initiation to the,
            ii. 274 _sq._

Darling River, the Ualaroi of the, ii. 233

Darma Rajah, Hindoo god, ii. 6

Darowen, in Wales, Midsummer fires at, i. 201

Darwin, Charles, on the cooling of the sun, ii. 307

Darwin, Sir Francis, on the Golden Bough, ii. 318, 319 _n._ 3

Dashers of churns, witches ride on, ii. 73 _sq._

Date of Chinese festival changed, i. 137

Dathi, king of Ireland, and his Druid, i. 228 _sq._

Davies, J. Ceredig, as to witches in Wales, i. 321 _n._ 2

Dawn of the Day, prayers to the, i. 50 _sq._, 53;
  prayer of adolescent girl to the, 98 _n._ 1

Dawson, James, on sex totems in Victoria, ii. 216

Dead, festival of the, i. 223 _sq._, 225 _sq._;
  souls of the, sit round the Midsummer fire, 183, 184;
  sacrifice of reindeer to the, ii. 178;
  incarnate in serpents, 211 _sq._;
  bull-roarers sounded at festivals of the, 230 _n._;
  first-fruits offered to the souls of the, 243

“Death, carrying out,” i. 119;
  “the burying of,” 119;
  effigies of, burnt in spring fires, ii. 21 _sq._;
  omens of, 54, 64;
  customs observed by mourners after a death in order to escape from the
              ghost, 174 _sqq._;
  identified with the sun, 174 _n._ 1

Death and resurrection, ritual of, ii. 225 _sqq._;
  in Australia, 227 _sqq._;
  in New Guinea, 239 _sqq._;
  in Fiji, 243 _sqq._;
  in Rook, 246;
  in New Britain, 246 _sq._;
  in Ceram, 249 _sqq._;
  in Africa, 251 _sqq._;
  in North America, 266 _sqq._;
  traces of it elsewhere, 276 _sq._

_Debregeasia velutina_, used to kindle fire by friction, ii. 8

December, the last day of, Hogmanay, i. 266;
  the twenty-first, St. Thomas’s Day, 266

Decle, L., quoted, i. 4 _n._ 1

Dee, holed stone used by childless women in the Aberdeenshire, ii. 187

Deer and the family of Lachlin, superstition concerning, ii. 284

Deffingin, in Swabia, Midsummer bonfires at, i. 166 _sq._

Dehon, P., on witches as cats among the Oraons, ii. 312

_Deiseal_, _deisheal_, _dessil_, the right-hand turn, in the Highlands of
            Scotland, i. 150 _n._ 1, 154

Delagoa Bay, the Thonga of, i. 29

Delaware Indians, seclusion of girls at puberty among the, i. 54

Delivery, charms to ensure women an easy, i. 49, 50 _sq._, 52;
  women creep through a rifted rock to obtain an easy, ii. 189

Delmenhorst, in Oldenburg, Easter fires at, i. 142

Delos, new fire brought from, i. 136

Delphi, perpetual fire at, ii. 91 _n._ 7;
  the picture of Orpheus at, 294;
  Stheni, near, 317

Demeter, the torches of, i. 340 _n._ 1;
  serpents in the worship of, ii. 44 _n._

Demnat, in the Atlas, New Year rites at, i. 217, 218

Demon supposed to attack girls at puberty, i. 67 _sq._;
  festival of fire instituted to ban a, ii. 3

Demons attack women at puberty and childbirth, i. 24 _n._ 2;
  expelled at the New Year, 134 _sq._;
  abroad on Midsummer Eve, 172;
  ashes of holy fires a protection against, ii. 8, 17;
  vervain a protection against, 62;
  guard treasures, 65.
  _See also_ Evil Spirits

Déné or Tinneh Indians, their dread and seclusion of menstruous women, i.
            91 _sqq._;
  the Western, tattooing among the, 98 _n._ 1
  _See also_ Tinneh

_Denham Tracts_, on need-fire in Yorkshire, i. 287 _sq._

Denmark, fires on St. John’s Eve in, i. 171;
  passing sick children through a hole in the ground in, 190, 191;
  children passed through a cleft oak as a cure for rupture or rickets in,
              ii. 170, 172

_Dessil._ _See_ _Deiseal_

Deux-Sèvres, department of, Midsummer fires in the, i. 191;
  fires on All Saints’ Day in the, 245 _sq._

Devil, the, seen on Midsummer Eve, i. 208

Devil’s bit, St. John’s wort, ii. 55 _n._ 2

Devils, ghosts, and hobgoblins abroad on Midsummer Eve, i. 202

Devonshire, need-fire in, i. 288;
  animals burnt alive as a sacrifice in, 302;
  belief in witchcraft in, 302;
  crawling under a bramble as a cure for whooping-cough in, ii. 180

Dew, rolling in the, at Midsummer, i. 208, with _n._ 1;
  at Midsummer a protection against witchcraft, ii. 74

Diana and Juno, ii. 302 _n._ 2

Diana, priest of, at Nemi, ii. 315

Diana’s Mirror, the Lake of Nemi, ii. 303

Dieri of Central Australia, their dread of women at menstruation, i. 77;
  use of bull-roarers among the, ii. 229 _sq._, 232;
  bleed themselves to make rain, 232

Dijon, Lenten fires at, i, 114

Dingle, church of St. Brandon near, ii. 190

Diodorus Siculus, on the human sacrifices of the Celts, ii. 32

Dioscorides on mistletoe, ii. 318 _n._ 1

Dipping for apples at Hallowe’en, i. 237, 239, 241, 242, 245

Discs, burning, thrown into the air, i. 116 _sq._, 119, 143, 165, 166, 168
            _sq._, 172, 328, 334;
  burning, perhaps directed at witches, 345

Disease, walking through fire as a remedy for, ii. 7;
  conceived as something physical that can be stripped off the patient and
              left behind, 172

Diseases of cattle ascribed to witchcraft, i. 343

Dish, external soul of warlock in a, ii. 141

Dishes, special, used by girls at puberty, i. 47, 49

Dislocation, Roman cure for, ii. 177

Divination on St. John’s Night (Midsummer Eve), i. 173, ii. 46 _n._ 3, 50,
            52 _sqq._, 61, 64, 67 _sqq._;
  at Midsummer in Spain and the Azores, i. 208 _sq._;
  at Hallowe’en, 225, 228 _sqq._;
  by stones at Hallowe’en fires, 230 _sq._, 239, 240;
  by stolen kail, 234 _sq._, 241;
  by clue of yarn, 235, 240, 241, 243;
  by hemp seed, 235, 241, 245;
  by winnowing-basket, 236;
  by thrown shoe, 236;
  by wet shirt, 236, 241;
  by white of eggs, 236 _sq._, 238;
  by apples in water, 237;
  by a ring, 237;
  by names on chimney-piece, 237;
  by three plates or basins, 237 _sq._, 240, 244;
  by nuts in fire, 237, 239, 241, 242, 245;
  by salt cake, or salt herring, 238 _sq._;
  by the sliced apple, 238;
  by eavesdropping, 238, 243, 244;
  by knife, 241;
  by briar-thorn, 242;
  by melted lead, 242;
  by cabbages, 242;
  by cake at Hallowe’en, 242, 243;
  by ashes, 243, 244, 245;
  by salt, 244;
  by raking a rick, 247;
  magic dwindles into, 336.
  _See also_ Divining-rod

Divine personages not allowed to touch the ground with their feet, i. 2
            _sqq._;
  not allowed to see the sun, 18 _sqq._;
  suspended for safety between heaven and earth, 98 _sq._

Divining-rod cut on Midsummer Eve, ii. 67 _sqq._;
  made of hazel, 67 _sq._, 291 _n._ 3;
  made of mistletoe in Sweden, 69, 291;
  made of four sorts of wood, 69;
  made of willow, 69 _n._;
  made out of a parasitic rowan, 281 _sq._

Divisibility of life, doctrine of the, ii. 221

Dobischwald, in Silesia, need-fire at, i. 278

Dodona, Zeus and his sacred oak at, ii. 49 _sq._

Dog not allowed to enter priest’s house, i. 4;
  beaten to ensure woman’s fertility, 69;
  charm against the bite of a mad, ii. 56;
  a Batta totem, 223

—— Star, or Sirius, supposed by the ancients to cause the heat of summer,
            i. 332

Dolac, need-fire at, i. 286

Dolmen, sick children passed through a hole in a, ii. 188

Dommartin, Lenten fires at, i. 109

Door, separate, for girls at puberty, i. 43, 44

Doorie, hill of, at Burghead, i. 267

Doors, separate, used by menstruous women, i. 84

Doorway, creeping through narrow opening in, as a cure, ii. 181 _sq._

Dosadhs, an Indian caste, the fire-walk among the, ii. 5

Dosuma, king of, not allowed to touch the ground, i. 3

Douay, procession of the giants at, ii. 33 _sq._

Double-axe, Midsummer king of the, i. 194

Dourgne, in Southern France, crawling through holed stones near, ii. 187
            _sq._

Dove, the ceremony of the fiery, at Easter in Florence, i. 126;
  a Batta totem, ii. 223

Doves, external soul of magicians in, ii. 104;
  Aeneas led by doves to the Golden Bough, 285, 316 _n._ 1

Dragon at Midsummer, effigy of, ii. 37;
  external soul of a queen in a, 105;
  of the water-mill, Servian story of the, 111 _sqq._

Dragons driven away by smoke of Midsummer bonfires, i. 161;
  St. Peter’s fires lighted to drive away, 195

Draguignan, in the department of Var, Midsummer fires at, i. 193

Draupadi, the heroine of the _Mahabharata_, ii. 7

Dread and seclusion of menstruous women, i. 76 _sqq._;
  dread of witchcraft in Europe, 342

Dream, guardian spirit or animal acquired in a, ii. 256 _sq._

Dreaming on flowers on Midsummer Eve, i. 175

Dreams, oracular, i. 238, 242;
  of love on Midsummer Eve, ii. 52, 54;
  prophetic, on the bloom of the oak, 292;
  prophetic, on mistletoe, 293

Driving away the witches on Walpurgis Night, i. 160;
  at Midsummer, 170, 171

Drobede (Draupadi), the heroine of the epic _Mahabharata_, ii. 7

Drömling district, in Hanover, need-fire in, i. 277

Drought attributed to misconduct of young girls, i. 31

Druid, etymology of the word, i. 76 _n._ 1

Druidical custom of burning live animals, ii. 38;
  the animals perhaps deemed embodiments of witches, 41 _sq._, 43 _sq._;
  festivals, so-called, of the Scotch Highlanders, i. 147, 206

—— sacrifices, W. Mannhardt’s theory of the, ii. 43

Druidism, so-called, remains of, i. 233, 241;
  and the Christian Church in relation to witchcraft, ii. 42

Druid’s Glass, the, i. 16; prediction, the, 229

Druids’ Hill, the, i. 229

Druids, their superstition as to “serpents’ eggs,” i. 15;
  their human sacrifices, ii. 32 _sq._;
  in relation to the Midsummer festival, 33 _sqq._, 45;
  their worship of the mistletoe and the oak, 76 _sq._, 301;
  their cycle of thirty years, 77;
  catch the mistletoe in a white cloth, 293

—— of Ireland, i. 157

Drynemetum, “the temple of the oak,” ii. 89

Duck baked alive as a sacrifice in Suffolk, i. 304

Duck’s egg, external soul in a, ii. 109 _sq._, 115 _sq._, 116, 119 _sq._,
            120, 126, 130, 132

Duk-duk, secret society of New Britain, i. 11, ii. 246 _sq._

Duke of York Island, ii. 199 _n._ 2;
  Duk-duk society in, 247;
  exogamous classes in, 248 _n._

Duke Town, on the Calabar River, ii. 209

Dukkala, New Year customs in, i. 218

Dumbartonshire, Hallowe’en in, i. 237 _n._ 5

Dunbeath, in Caithness, i. 291

Dunkeld, i. 232

Dunkirk, procession of giants on Midsummer Day at, ii. 34 _sq._

Durandus, G. (W. Durantis), his _Rationale Divinorum Officiorum_, i. 161

Durham, Easter candle in the cathedral of, i. 122 _n._

Durris, parish of, Kincardineshire, Midsummer fires in the, i. 206 _sq._

Dusk of the Evening, prayers to the, i. 53

Düsseldorf, Shrove Tuesday custom in the district of, i. 120

Dutch names for mistletoe, ii. 319 _n._ 1

Dwarf-elder at Midsummer detects witchcraft, ii. 64

Dyaks of Borneo, trees and plants as life indices among the, ii. 164
            _sq._;
  their doctrine of the plurality of souls, 222;
  of Landak and Tajan, marriage custom of the, i. 5;
  birth-trees among the, ii. 164;
  of Pinoeh, their custom at a birth, ii. 154 _sq._

Eagle, sacrifice to, i. 152

—— bone, used to drink out of, i. 45

—— clan, ii. 271, 272 _n._ 1

—— -hawk, external soul of medicine-man in, ii. 199

—— -spirits and buried treasures, i. 218

Earth, taboos observed by the priest of, in Southern Nigeria, i. 4;
  prayers to, 50;
  and heaven, between, 1 _sqq._

Easter, fern-seed blooms at, ii. 292 _n._ 2

—— candle, i. 121, 122, 125

—— ceremonies in the New World, i. 127 _sq._

—— eggs, i. 108, 143, 144

—— Eve, new fire on, i. 121, 124, 126, 158;
  the fern blooms at, ii. 66

—— fires, i. 120 _sqq._

—— Man, burning the, i. 144

—— Monday, fire-custom on, i. 143

—— Mountains, bonfires on, i. 140, 141

—— Saturday, new fire on, i. 121, 122, 124, 127, 128, 130;
  the divining-rod baptized on, ii. 69

—— Sunday, red eggs on, i. 122

Eavesdropping, divination by, i. 238, 243, 244

Echternach in Luxemburg, Lenten fire-custom at, i. 116

Eclipses attributed to monster biting the sun or moon, i. 70;
  air thought to be poisoned at, 162 _n._;
  thought to be caused by a monster attacking the luminary, 162 _n._

_Edda_, the prose, story of Balder in, i. 101;
  the poetic, story of Balder in, 102

Eddesse, in Hanover, need-fire at, i. 275 _sq._

Edersleben, Midsummer fire-custom at, i. 169

Edgewell Tree, oak at castle of Dalhousie, ii. 166, 284

Effect, supposed, of killing a totem animal, ii. 220

Effigies burnt in bonfires, i. 106, 107, 116, 118 _sq._, 119 _sq._, 121,
            122, 159, 167;
  of Judas burnt at Easter, 121, 127 _sq._, 130 _sq._;
  burnt in the Midsummer fires, 172 _sq._, 195;
  of witches burnt in the fires, 342, ii. 19, 43;
  of human beings burnt in the fires, 21 _sqq._;
  of giants burnt in the summer fires, 38

Effigy of absent friend cut in a tree, ii. 159 _sq._

Efik, a tribe of Calabar, their belief in external or bush souls, ii. 206

Egede, Hans, on impregnation by the moon, i. 76

Egg broken in water, divination by means of, i. 208 _sq._

Eggs, charm to ensure plenty of, i. 112, 338;
  begged for at Midsummer, 169;
  divination by white of, 236 _sq._, 238;
  external souls of fairy beings in, ii. 106 _sqq._, 110, 125, 132 _sq._,
              140 _sq._

——, Easter, i. 108, 122, 143, 144

Egypt, the Flight into, ii. 69 _n._;
  deified kings of, their souls deposited during life in portrait statues,
              157

Egyptian, ancient, story of the external soul, ii. 134 _sqq._

—— doctrine of the _ka_ or external soul, ii. 157 _n._ 2

—— tombs, plaques or palettes of schist in, ii. 155

Egyptians, human sacrifices among the, ii. 286 _n._ 2

Eifel Mountains, Lenten fires in the, i. 115 _sq._, 336 _sq._;
  Cobern in the, 120;
  St. John’s fires in the, 169;
  the Yule log in the, 248;
  Midsummer flowers in the, ii. 48

Eighty-one (nine times nine), men make need-fire, i. 289, 294, 295

Eket, in North Calabar, ii. 209

Ekoi, a tribe of Calabar, their belief in external or bush souls, ii. 206
            _sqq._

_Elangela_, external soul in Fan language, ii. 201, 226 _n._ 1

Elbe, the river, dangerous on Midsummer Day, ii. 26

Elder-flowers gathered at Midsummer, ii. 64

Elecampane in a popular remedy, i. 17

Electric conductivity of various kinds of wood, ii. 299 _n._ 2

Elephant hunters, custom of, i. 5

Elephants, lives of persons bound up with those of, ii. 202, 203;
  external human souls in, 207

Elgin, medical use of mistletoe in, ii. 84

Elk clan of the Omaha Indians, i. 11

Elm wood used to kindle need-fire, i. 299

Embers of bonfires planted in fields, i. 117, 121;
  stuck in cabbage gardens, 174, 175;
  promote growth of crops, 337.
  _See also_ Ashes _and_ Sticks, charred

—— of Midsummer fires a protection against conflagration, i. 188;
  a protection against lightning, 190

Emily plain of Central Australia, ii. 238

Emmenthal, in Switzerland, superstition as to Midsummer Day in the, ii.
            27;
  use of orpine at Midsummer in the, 62 _n._

Emu fat not allowed to touch the ground, i. 13

—— -wren, called men’s “brother” among the Kurnai, ii. 215 _n._ 1, 216,
            218

Encounter Bay tribe in South Australia, their dread of women at
            menstruation, i. 76

Energy, sanctity and uncleanness, different forms of the same mysterious,
            i. 97 _sq._

England, belief as to menstruous women in, i. 96 _n._ 1;
  Midsummer fires in, 196 _sqq._;
  the Yule log in, 255 _sqq._;
  the need-fire in, 286 _sqq._;
  Midsummer giants in, ii. 36 _sqq._;
  divination by orpine at Midsummer in, 61;
  fern-seed at Midsummer in, 65;
  the north of, mistletoe used to make the dairy thrive in, 85 _sq._;
  birth-trees in, 165;
  children passed through cleft ash-trees as a cure for rupture or rickets
              in, 168 _sqq._;
  oak-mistletoe in, 316

English cure for whooping-cough, rheumatism, and boils, ii. 180

Ensival, bonfires at, i. 108

Entrails, external soul in, ii. 146 _sq._, 152

_Epic of Kings_, Firdusi’s, i. 104

Epidemic, creeping through a tunnel as a remedy for an, i. 283 _sq._

Epilepsy, yellow mullein a protection against, ii. 63;
  mistletoe a cure for, 78, 83, 84

Épinal, Lenten fires at, i. 109

Eriskay, fairies at Hallowe’en in, i. 226;
  salt cake at Hallowe’en in, 238 _sq._

Errol, the Hays of, their fate bound up with oak-mistletoe, ii. 283 _sq._

_Escouvion_ or _Scouvion_, the Great and the Little, i. 108

Esquimaux, their superstition as to various meats, i. 13 _sq._;
  seclusion of girls at puberty among the, 55;
  ceremony of the new fire among the, 134;
  their custom at eclipses, 162 _n._

—— of Alaska, child’s soul deposited in a bag among the, ii. 155

—— of Bering Strait, their belief as to menstruous women, i. 91

Esthonia, bathing at Midsummer in, ii. 29;
  flowers gathered for divination and magic at Midsummer in, 53 _sq._

Esthonians, Midsummer fires among the, i. 179 _sq._;
  of Oesel cull St. John’s herbs on St. John’s Day, ii. 49

Eteobutads as umbrella-bearers at the festival of Scira, i. 20 _n._ 1

Eton, Midsummer fires at, i. 197

Eunuchs perform a ceremony for the fertility of the fields, i. 340

_Euphorbia lathyris_, caper-spurge, ii. 69

Euripides, his play on Meleager, ii. 103 _n._ 2

Europe, superstitions as to menstruous women in, i. 96 _sq._;
  the fire-festivals of, 106 _sqq._;
  great dread of witchcraft in, 342;
  birth-trees in, ii. 165;
  belief in, that strength of witches and wizards is in their hair, 158

Eurydice, Orpheus and, ii. 294

Eve of Samhain (Hallowe’en) in Ireland, i. 139

Everek (Caesarea), in Asia Minor, creeping through a rifted rock at, ii.
            189

Evil eye, protection against, i. 17

—— spirit, mode of cure for possession by an, ii. 186

Evil spirits driven away at the New Year, i. 134 _sq._;
  kept off by fire, 282, 285 _sq._;
  St. John’s herbs a protection against, ii. 49;
  kept off by flowers gathered at Midsummer, 53 _sq._;
  creeping through cleft trees to escape the pursuit of, 173 _sqq._
  _See also_ Demons

Ewe negroes, their dread of menstruous women, i. 82

Exogamous classes in Duke of York island, ii. 248 _n._

Exorcizing vermin with torches, i. 340

Exorcism of evil spirits, i. 5;
  and ordeals, 66;
  at Easter, 123;
  use of St. John’s wort in, ii. 55;
  use of mugwort in, 60;
  by vervain, 62 _n._ 4

Expulsion of demons, annual, i. 135

External soul in folk-tales, ii. 95 _sqq._;
  in folk-custom, 153 _sqq._;
  in inanimate things, 153 _sqq._;
  in plants, 159 _sqq._;
  in animals, 196 _sqq._;
  kept in totem, 220 _sqq._
  _See also_ Souls, External

Extinction of common fires before the kindling of the need-fire, i. 271,
            272, 273, 274, 275, 276, 277 _sq._, 279, 283, 285, 288, 289,
            289 _sq._, 291, 291 _sq._, 292, 294, 297, 298 _sq._;
  ceremonial, of fires, ii. 297 _sq._

Eye, the evil, cast on cattle, i. 302, 303;
  oleander a protection against the, ii. 51

Eyes, looking through flowers at the Midsummer fire, thought to be good
            for the, i. 162, 163, 165 _sq._, 171, 174 _sq._, 344;
  ashes or smoke of Midsummer fire supposed to benefit the, 214 _sq._;
  sore, attributed to witchcraft, 344;
  mugwort a protection against sore, ii. 59;
  of newly initiated lads closed, 241

Eyre, E. J., on menstruous women in Australia, i. 77

“Faery dairts” thought to kill cattle, i. 303

_Failles_, bonfires, i. 111 _n._ 1

Fair, great, at Uisnech in County Meath, i. 158

Fairies let loose at Hallowe’en, i. 224 _sqq._;
  carry off men’s wives, 227;
  at Hallowe’en, dancing with the, 227;
  thought to kill cattle by their darts, 303;
  active on Hallowe’en and May Day, ii. 184 _n._ 4, 185

Fairy changelings, i. 151 _n._;
  mistletoe a protection against, ii. 283

Falcon stone, at Errol, in Perthshire, ii. 283

Falkenstein chapel of St. Wolfgang, creeping through a rifted rock near
            the, ii. 189

Falling sickness, mistletoe a remedy for, ii. 83, 84

Famenne in Namur, Lenten fires in, i. 108

Familiar spirits of wizards in boars, ii. 196 _sq._

Fans of the French Congo, birth-trees among the, ii. 161

—— of the Gaboon, their theory of the external soul, ii. 200 _sqq._, 226
            _n._ 1;
  guardian spirits acquired in dreams among the, 257

—— of West Africa, custom at end of mourning among the, ii. 18

Fast at puberty, ii. 222 _n._ 5

Fasting of girls at puberty, i. 56, 57, 58, 59, 60, 61, 66;
  of women at menstruation, 93, 94;
  as preparation for gathering magical plants, ii. 45, 55 _n._ 1, 58

—— men and women at a dancing festival, i. 8 _sqq._

Fasts imposed on heirs to thrones in South America, i. 19;
  rules observed in, 20

Fat of emu not allowed to touch the ground, i. 13;
  of crocodiles and snakes as unguent, 14

Fattening-house for girls in Calabar, ii. 259

Feast of Florus and Lauras on August 18th, i. 220;
  of the Nativity of the Virgin, 220 _sq._;
  of All Souls, 223 _sq._, 225 _n._ 3

_Fechenots_, _fechenottes_, Valentines, i. 110

Feet foremost, children born, curative power attributed to, i. 295

Fen-hall, i. 102

Ferintosh district, in Scotland, i. 227

Fern in a popular remedy, i. 17;
  the male (_Aspidium filix mas_), superstitions as 10, ii. 66 _sq._

—— owl or goatsucker, sex totem of women, ii. 217

—— -seed gathered on Midsummer Eve, magical properties ascribed to, ii. 65
            _sqq._;
  blooms on Midsummer Eve, 287;
  blooms on Christmas Night, 288 _sq._;
  reveals treasures in the earth, 287 _sqq._;
  brought by Satan on Christmas night, 289;
  gathered at the solstices, Midsummer Eve and Christmas, 290 _sq._;
  procured by shooting at the sun on Midsummer Day, 291;
  blooms at Easter, 292 _n._ 2

Feronia, Italian goddess, ii. 14

Ferrara, synod of, denounces practice of gathering fern-seed, ii. 66 _n._

Fertility of women, magical ceremony to ensure, i. 23 _sq._, 31;
  of fields, processions with lighted torches to ensure the, 233 _sq._;
  of the land supposed to depend on the number of human beings sacrificed,
              ii. 32, 33, 42 _sq._

Fertilization of mango trees, ceremony for the, i. 10

Fertilizing fields with ashes of Midsummer fires, i. 170

Festival of the cold food in China, i. 137;
  Chinese, shifted in the calendar, 137;
  of the Cross on August 1st, 220;
  of the Dead, 223 _sq._, 225 _sq._

Fetish, the great, in West Africa, ii. 256

Fever, leaping over the Midsummer bonfires as a preventive of, i. 166,
            173, 194;
  Midsummer fires a protection against, 190;
  need-fire kindled to prevent, 297;
  cure for, in India, ii. 190

_Fey_, devoted, i. 231

Fez, Midsummer custom at, i. 216, ii. 31

Field-mice, burning torches as a protection against, i. 114, 115

—— and moles driven away by torches, ii. 340

Fields, cultivated, menstruous women not allowed to enter, i. 79;
  protected against insects by menstruous women, 98 _n._ 1;
  processions with torches through, 107 _sq._, 110 _sqq._, 113 _sqq._,
              179, 339 _sq._;
  protected against witches, 121;
  made fruitful by bonfires, 140;
  fertilized by ashes of Midsummer fires, 170;
  fertilized by burning wheel rolled over them, 191, 340 _sq._;
  protected against hail by bonfires, 344

Fig-trees, charm to benefit, i. 18; sacred among the Fans, ii. 161

Fights between men and women about their sex totems, ii. 215, 217

_Figo_, bonfire, i. 111

Fiji, brides tattooed in, i. 34 _n._ 1;
  the fire-walk in, ii. 10 _sq._;
  birth-trees in, 163;
  the drama of death and resurrection exhibited to novices at initiation
              in, 243 _sqq._

Filey, in Yorkshire, the Yule log and candle at, i. 256

Finchra, mountain in Rum, ii. 284

Fingan Eve in the Isle of Man, i. 266

Finistère, bonfires on St. John’s Day in, i. 183

Finland, Midsummer fires in, i. 180 _sq._;
  fir-tree as life-index in, ii. 165 _sq._

Finsch Harbour in German New Guinea, ii. 239

Fir-branches, prayers to, i. 51;
  at Midsummer, 177;
  Midsummer mummers clad in, ii. 25 _sq._

—— -cones, seeds of, gathered on St. John’s Day, ii. 64

—— -tree as life-index, ii. 165 _sq._;
  mistletoe on fir-trees, 315, 316

—— -wood used to kindle need-fire, i. 278, 282

—— or beech used to make the Yule log, i. 249

Firdusi’s _Epic of Kings_, i. 104

Fire, girls at puberty forbidden to see or go near, i. 29, 45, 46;
  menstruous women not allowed to touch or see, 84, 85;
  extinguished at menstruation, 87;
  in fire-festivals, different possible explanations of its use, 112
              _sq._;
  made by flints or by flint and steel, 121, 124, 126, 127, 145, 146, 159;
  made by a burning-glass, 121, 127;
  made by a metal mirror, 132, 137, 138 _n._ 5;
  made by the friction of wood, 132, 133, 135, 136, 137, 138, 144 _sq._,
              148, 155, 169 _sq._, 175, 177, 179, 220, 264, 270 _sqq._,
              335 _sq._, ii. 8, 90, 295;
  not to be blown up with breath, i. 133;
  year called a fire, 137;
  thought to grow weak with age, 137;
  pretence of throwing a man into, 148, 186, ii. 25;
  carried round houses, corn, cattle, and women after child-bearing, 151
              _n._;
  used to drive away witches and demons at Midsummer, 170;
  as a protection against evil spirits, 282, 285 _sq._;
  made by means of a wheel, 335 _sq._, ii. 91;
  as a destructive and purificatory agent, i. 341;
  used as a charm to produce sunshine, 341 _sq._;
  employed as a barrier against ghosts, ii. 17 _sqq._;
  as a purificatory agency, 19;
  used to burn or ban witches, 19 _sq._;
  extinguished by mistletoe, 78, 84 _sq._, 293;
  of oak-wood used to detect a murderer, 92 _n._ 4;
  life of man bound up with a, 157;
  perpetual, of oak-wood, 285 _sq._;
  conceived by savages as a property stored like sap in trees, 295;
  primitive ideas as to the origin of, 295 _sq._

——, living, made by friction of wood, i. 220

——, new, kindled on Easter Saturday, i. 121 _sqq._;
  festivals of new, 131 _sqq._;
  made by the friction of wood at Christmas, 264

“—— of heaven,” term applied to Midsummer bonfire, i. 334, 335

—— -drill used to kindle need-fire, i. 292

Fire-festivals of Europe, i. 106 _sqq._;
  interpretation of the, 328 _sqq._, ii. 15 _sqq._;
  at the solstices, i. 331 _sq._;
  solar theory of the, 331 _sqq._;
  purificatory theory of the, 341 _sqq._;
  regarded as a protection against witchcraft, 342;
  the purificatory theory of the, more probable than the solar theory,
              346;
  elsewhere than in Europe, ii. 1 _sqq._;
  in India, 1 _sqq._, 5 _sqq._;
  in China, 3 _sqq._;
  in Japan, 9 _sq._;
  in Fiji, 10 _sq._;
  in Tahiti, the Marquesas Islands, and Trinidad, 11;
  in Africa, 11 _sqq._;
  in classical antiquity in Cappadocia and Italy, 14 _sq._;
  their relation to Druidism, 33 _sqq._, 45

Fire-god, Armenian, i. 131 _n._ 3;
  of the Iroquois, prayers to the, 299 _sq._

—— -walk, the, ii. 1 _sqq._;
  a remedy for disease, 7;
  the meaning of the, 15 _sqq._

Firebrand, external soul of Meleager in a, ii. 103

Firebrands, the Sunday of the, i. 110, 114

Fires extinguished as preliminary to obtaining new fire, i. 5;
  annually extinguished and relit, 132 _sqq._;
  to burn the witches on the Eve of May Day (Walpurgis Night), 159 _sq._;
  autumn, 220 _sqq._;
  the need-fire, 269 _sqq._;
  extinguished before the lighting of the need-fire, 270, 271, 272, 273,
              274, 275, 276, 277 _sq._, 279, 283, 285, 288, 289 _sq._,
              291, 291 _sq._, 292, 294, 297, 298 _sq._;
  of the fire-festivals explained as sun-charms, 329, 331 _sqq._;
  explained as purificatory, 329 _sq._, 341 _sqq._;
  the burning of human beings in the, ii. 21 _sqq._;
  perpetual, fed with oak-wood, 91;
  with pinewood, 91 _n._ 7;
  the solstitial, perhaps sun-charms, 292;
  extinguished and relighted from a flame kindled by lightning, 297 _sq._
  _See also_ Fire, Bonfires

——, the Beltane, i. 146 _sqq._

——, the Easter, i. 120 _sqq._

——, Hallowe’en, i. 222 _sq._, 230 _sqq._

——, the Lenten, i. 106 _sqq._

——, Midsummer, i. 160 _sqq._;
  a protection against witches, 180;
  supposed to stop rain, 188, 336;
  supposed to be a preventive of backache in reaping, 189, 344 _sq._;
  a protection against fever, 190

——, Midwinter, i. 246 _sqq._

—— of St. John in France, i. 183, 188, 189, 190, 192, 193

—— on the Eve of Twelfth Day, i. 107

First-born lamb, wool of, used as cure for colic, i. 17

—— sons make need-fire, i. 294;
  special magical virtue attributed to, 295

First-fruits offered to the souls of the dead, ii. 243

Fish frightened or killed by proximity of menstruous women, i. 77, 93;
  external soul in a, ii. 99 _sq._, 122 _sq._;
  golden, external soul of girl in a, 147 _sq._;
  lives of people bound up with, 200, 202, 204, 209

Fisheries supposed to be spoiled by menstruous women, i. 77, 78, 90 _sq._,
            93

Fison, Rev. Lorimer, on Fijian religion, ii. 244 _n._ 1, 2, 3, 246 _n._ 1

Fittleworth, in Sussex, cleft ash-trees used for the cure of rupture at,
            ii. 169 _sq._

Flames of bonfires, omens drawn from, i. 159, 165, 336

Flanders, Midsummer fires in, i. 194;
  the Yule log in, 249;
  wicker giants in, ii. 35

Flax, leaping over bonfires to make the flax grow tall, i. 119;
  charms to make flax grow tall, 165, 166, 173, 174, 176, 180

—— crop, omens of the, drawn from Midsummer bonfires, i. 165

—— seed sown in direction of flames of bonfire, i. 140, 337

Fleabane as a cure for headache, i. 17

Fleas, leaping over Midsummer fires to get rid of, i. 211, 212, 217

Flight into Egypt, the, ii. 69 _n._

Flints, fire kindled by, i. 121, 124, 126, 127, 145, 146, 159

Floor, sitting on the, at Christmas, i. 261

Florence, ceremony of the new fire at Easter in, i. 126 _sq._

Florus and Laurus, feast of, on August 18th, i. 220

Flowers thrown on bonfire, ii. 8;
  external souls in, 117 _sq._
  _See also_ Crown

—— and herbs cast into the Midsummer bonfires, i. 162, 163, 172, 173

—— at Midsummer thrown on roofs as a protection against lightning, i. 169;
  festival of, 177 _sq._;
  as talismans, 183;
  in fires, 184, 188, 190;
  wreaths of, hung over doors and windows, 201;
  placed on mouths of wells, ii. 28;
  divination from, 50

—— on Midsummer Eve, blessed by St. John, i. 171;
  the magic flowers of Midsummer Eve, ii. 45 _sqq._;
  used in divination, 52 _sq._;
  used to dream upon, 52, 54

Flutes, sacred, played at initiation, ii. 241

Fly River, in British New Guinea, ii. 232

“Flying-rowan” (parasitic rowan), superstitions in regard to, ii. 281;
  used to make a divining-rod, 281 _sq._

Foam of the sea, the demon Namuci killed by the, ii. 280;
  the totem of a clan in India, 281

Fo-Kien, province of China, festival of fire in, ii. 3 _sqq._

Folgareit, in the Tyrol, Midsummer custom at, ii. 47

Folk-custom, external soul in, ii. 153 _sqq._

—— -tales, the external soul in, ii. 95 _sqq._

Follies of Dunkirk, ii. 34 _sq._

Food, sacred, not allowed to touch the ground, i. 13 _sq._;
  girls at puberty not allowed to handle, 23, 28, 36, 40 _sq._, 42

Foods, forbidden, i. 4, 7, 19, 36 _sq._, 38, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 47,
            48, 49, 54, 56, 57, 58, 68, 77, 78, 94

“Fool’s Stone” in ashes of Midsummer fire, i. 195

Forbidden thing of clan, ii. 313

Forchheim, in Bavaria, the burning of Judas at Easter in, i. 143

Foreskins of young men offered to ancestral spirits in Fiji, ii. 243 _sq._

Forespeaking men and cattle, i. 303

Forgetfulness of the past after initiation, ii. 238, 254, 256, 258, 259,
            266 _sq._

Forked shape of divining-rod, ii. 67 _n._ 3

“Forlorn fire,” need-fire, i. 292

_Foulères_, bonfires, i. 111 _n._ 1

Foulkes, Captain, quoted, ii. 210

Four kinds of wood used to make the divining-rod, ii. 69, 291

Fourdin, E., on the procession of the giants at Ath, ii. 36 _n._ 2

Four-leaved clover, a counter-charm for witchcraft, i. 316;
  at Midsummer useful for magic, ii. 62 _sq._

Fowler, W. Warde, on Midsummer custom, i. 206 _n._ 2;
  on _sexta luna,_ ii. 77 _n._ 1;
  on the ceremony of passing under the yoke, 195 _n._ 4;
  on the oak and the thunder-god, 298, 299 _n._ 2, 300

Fowls’ nests, ashes of bonfires put in, i, 112, 338

Fox prayed to spare lambs, i. 152

Foxes burnt in Midsummer fires, ii. 39, 41;
  witches turn into, 41

Foxwell, Ernest, on the fire-walk in Japan, ii. 10 _n._ 1

Fraas, F., on the various sorts of mistletoe known to the ancients, ii.
            318

Frampton-on-Severn in Gloucestershire, ii. 316

France, Lenten fires in, i. 109 _sqq._;
  Midsummer fires in, 181 _sqq._;
  fires on All Saints’ Day in, 245 _sq._;
  the Yule log in, 249 _sqq._;
  wonderful herbs gathered on St. John’s Eve (Midsummer Eve) in, ii. 45
              _sqq._;
  mugwort (herb of St. John) at Midsummer in, 58 _sq._;
  fern-seed at Midsummer in, 65;
  judicial treatment of sorcerers in, 158;
  birth-trees in, 165;
  children passed through a cleft oak as a cure for rupture or rickets in,
              170.
  _See also_ French

Franche-Comté, Lenten fires in, i. 110 _sq._;
  fires of St. John in, 189;
  the Yule log in, 254

Franken, Middle, fire custom at Easter in, i. 143

Frankenstein, precautions against witches in, ii. 20 _n._

Fraser Lake in British Columbia, i. 47

Freiburg, in Switzerland, Lenten fires in, i. 119;
  fern and treasure on St. John’s Night in, ii. 288

Freising, in Bavaria, creeping through a narrow opening in the cathedral
            of, ii. 189

French cure for whooping-cough, ii. 192 _n._ 1

—— Islands, use of bull-roarers in, ii. 229 _n._

—— peasants, their superstition as to a virgin and a flame, i. 137 _n._

Friction of wood, fire made by the, i. 132, 133, 135, 136, 137, 138, 144
            _sq._, 148, 155, 169 _sq._, 175, 177, 179, 220, 264, 270
            _sqq._, 335 _sq._, ii. 8;
  the most primitive mode of making fire, 90, 295

“Friendly Society of the Spirit” among the Naudowessies, ii. 267

Frigg or Frigga, the goddess, and Balder, i. 101, 102

Fringes worn over the eyes by girls at puberty, i. 47, 48

Fruit-trees threatened, i. 114;
  Midsummer fires lit under, 215;
  shaken at Christmas to make them bear fruit, 248;
  fumigated with smoke of need-fire, 280;
  fertilized by burning torches, 340

_Fuga daemonum_, St. John’s wort, ii. 55

Fulda, the Lord of the Wells at, ii. 28

Fumigating crops with smoke of bonfires, i. 201, 337

—— sheep and cattle, ii. 12, 13

Fumigation of pastures at Midsummer to drive away witches and demons, i.
            170;
  of fruit-trees, nets, and cattle with smoke of need-fire, 280;
  of byres with juniper, 296;
  of trees with wild thyme on Christmas Eve, ii. 64

Fünen, in Denmark, cure for childish ailments at, ii. 191

Funeral, customs observed by mourners after a funeral in order to escape
            from the ghost, ii. 174 _sqq._

—— ceremony among the Michemis, i. 5

Furnace, walking through a fiery, ii. 3 _sqq._

Furness, W. H., on passing under an archway, ii. 179 _sq._, 180 _n._ 1

Gabb, W. M., on ceremonial uncleanness, i. 65 _n._ 1

Gablonz, in Bohemia, Midsummer bed of flowers at, ii. 57

Gaboon, birth-trees in the, ii. 160;
  theory of the external soul in, 200 _sq._

Gacko, need-fire at, i. 286

Gaidoz, H., on the custom of passing sick people through cleft trees, ii.
            171

Gage, Thomas, on _naguals_ among the Indians of Guatemala, ii. 213

Gaj, in Slavonia, need-fire at, i. 282

Galatian senate met in Drynemetum, “the temple of the oak,” ii. 89

Galatians kept their old Celtic speech, ii. 89 _n._ 2

Galela, dread of women at menstruation in, i. 79

Galelareese of Halmahera, their rites of initiation, ii. 248

Gallic Councils, their prohibition of carrying torches, i. 199

Gallows Hill, magical plants gathered on the, ii. 57

—— -rope used to kindle need-fire, i. 277

Gandersheim, in Brunswick, need-fire at, i. 277

Gap, in the High Alps, cats roasted alive in the Midsummer fire at, ii. 39
            _sq._

Gardner, Mrs. E. A., i. 131 _n._ 1

Garlands of flowers placed on wells at Midsummer, ii. 28;
  thrown on trees, a form of divination, 53

Garlic roasted at Midsummer fires, i. 193

Garonne, Midsummer fires in the valley of the, i. 193

Gatschet, A. S., on the Toukawe Indians, ii. 276 _n._ 2

Gaul, “serpents’ eggs” in ancient, i. 15;
  human sacrifices in ancient, ii. 32 _sq._

Gauls, their fortification walls, i. 267 _sq._

Gazelle Peninsula, New Britain, the Ingniet society in the, ii. 156

Gem, external soul of magician in a, ii. 105 _sq._;
  external soul of giant in a, 130

Geneva, Midsummer fires in the canton of, i. 172

_Genius_, the Roman, ii. 212 _n._

Geranium burnt in Midsummer fire, i. 213

Gerhausen, i. 166

German stories of the external soul, ii. 116 _sqq._

Germans, human sacrifices offered by the ancient, ii. 28 _n._ 1;
  the oak sacred among the, 89

Germany, Lenten fires in, i. 115 _sq._;
  Easter bonfires in, 140 _sqq._;
  custom at eclipses in, 162 _n._;
  the Midsummer fires in, 163 _sqq._;
  the Yule log in, 247 _sqq._;
  belief in the transformation of witches into animals in, 321 _n._ 2;
  colic, sore eyes, and stiffness of the back attributed to witchcraft in,
              344 _sq._;
  mugwort at Midsummer in, ii. 59;
  orpine gathered at Midsummer in, 62 _n._;
  fern-seed at Midsummer in, 65;
  mistletoe a remedy for epilepsy in, 83;
  the need-fire kindled by the friction of oak in, 91;
  oak-wood used to make up cottage fires on Midsummer Day in, 91 _sq._;
  birth-trees in, 165;
  children passed through a cleft oak as a cure for rupture in, 170 _sqq._

Gestr and the spae-wives, Icelandic story of, ii. 125 _sq._

Gewar, King of Norway, i. 103

Ghost, oracular, in a cave, ii. 312 _sq._

Ghosts extracted from wooden posts, i. 8;
  fire used to get rid of, ii. 17 _sqq._;
  mugwort a protection against, 59;
  kept off by thorn bushes, 174 _sq._;
  creeping through cleft sticks to escape from, 174 _sqq._

Giant who had no heart in his body, stories of the, ii. 96 _sqq._, 119
            _sq._;
  mythical, supposed to kill and resuscitate lads at initiation, 243

Giant-fennel burnt in Midsummer fire, i. 213

Giants of wicker-work at popular festivals in Europe, ii. 33 _sqq._;
  burnt in the summer bonfires, 38

Giggenhausen, in Bavaria, burning the Easter Man at, i. 144

Gion shrine in Japan, i. 138

Gippsland, the Kurnai of, ii. 216

Giraldus Cambrensis on transformation of witches into hares, i. 315 _n._ 1

Girdle of wolf’s hide worn by were-wolves, i. 310 _n._ 1;
  of St. John, mugwort, ii. 59

Girdles of mugwort worn on St. John’s Day or Eve as preservative against
            backache, sore eyes, ghosts, magic, and sickness, ii. 59

Girkshausen, in Westphalia, the Yule log at, i. 248

Girl at puberty said to be wounded by a snake, i. 56;
  to be swallowed by a serpent, 57

—— and boy produce need-fire by friction of wood, 281

Girls at puberty, secluded, i. 22 _sqq._;
  not allowed to touch the ground, 22, 33, 35, 36, 60;
  not allowed to see the sun, 22, 35, 36, 37, 41, 44, 46, 47, 68;
  not allowed to handle food, 23, 28, 36, 40 sq., 42; half buried in
              ground, 38 _sqq._;
  not allowed to scratch themselves with their fingers, 38, 39, 41, 42,
              44, 47, 50, 53, 92;
  not allowed to lie down, 44;
  gashed on back, breast, and belly, 60;
  stung by ants, 61;
  beaten severely, 61, 66 _sq._;
  supposed to be attacked by a demon, 67 _sq._;
  not to see the sky, 69;
  forbidden to break bones of hares, 73 _n._ 3

Gisors, crawling through a holed stone near, ii. 188

_Givoy agon_, living fire, made by the friction of wood, i. 220

Glamorgan, the Vale of, Beltane and Midsummer fires in the, i. 154;
  Midsummer fires in, 201, 338

Glands, ashes of Yule log used to cure swollen, i. 251

Glanvil, Joseph, on a witch in the form of a cat, i. 317

Glass, the Magician’s or Druid’s, i. 16

Glatz, precautions against witches on Walpurgis Night in, ii. 20 _n._

Glawi, in the Atlas, New Year fires at, i. 217

Glencuaich, the hawk of, in a Celtic tale, ii. 127 _sqq._

Glenorchy, the Beltane cake in, i. 149

“Glory, the Hand of,” mandragora, ii. 316

Gloucestershire, mistletoe growing on oaks in, ii. 316

Gnabaia, a spirit who swallows and disgorges lads at initiation, ii. 235

_Gnid-eld_, need-fire, i. 280

Goajiras of Colombia, their seclusion of girls at puberty, i. 34 _n._ 1

Goatsucker or fern owl, sex totem of women, ii. 217

God, Aryan, of the thunder and the oak, i. 265

—— on Earth, title of supreme chief of the Bushongo, ii. 264

Godolphin, in Cornwall, Midsummer fires on, i. 199

Gold, the flower of chicory to be cut with, ii. 71;
  root of marsh mallow to be dug with, 80 _n._ 3;
  buried, revealed by mistletoe and fern-seed, 287 _sqq._, 291

—— coin, magic plant to be dug up with a, ii. 57.
  _See also_ Golden

Golden axe, sacred tamarisk touched with, ii. 80 _n._ 3

Golden Bough, the, ii. 279 _sqq._;
  and the priest of Aricia, i. 1;
  a branch of mistletoe, ii. 284 _sqq._, 315 _sqq._;
  Virgil’s account of the, 284 _sq._, 286, 293 _sq._, 315 _sqq._;
  origin of the name, 286 _sqq._

—— fish, girl’s external soul in a, ii. 147 _sq._, 220

—— knife, horse slain in sacrifice with a, ii. 80 _n._ 3

—— ring, half a hero’s strength in a, ii. 143

—— sickle, mistletoe cut by Druids with a, ii. 77, 88;
  sacred olive at Olympia cut with a, 80 _n._ 3

Golden sword and golden arrow, external soul of a hero in a, ii. 145

Goldie, Rev. Hugh, on the _ukpong_ or external soul in Calabar, ii. 206

Goliath, effigy of, ii. 36

_Goluan_, Midsummer, i. 199

Good Friday, Judas driven out of church on, i. 146;
  the divining-rod cut on, ii. 68 _n._ 4;
  sick children passed through cleft trees on, 172

Goodrich-Freer, A., quoted, i. 154 _n._ 3

Googe, Barnabe, i. 124

Gooseberry bushes, wild, custom as to, ii. 48

Gorillas, lives of persons bound up with those of, ii. 202

Görz, belief as to witches at Midsummer about, ii. 75

Grain Coast, West Africa, initiation of girls on the, ii. 259

Grammont, in Belgium, festival of the “Crown of Roses” at, i. 195;
  the Yule log at, 249

Granada (South America), youthful rulers secluded in, i. 19

Grand Halleux, bonfires at, i. 107

_Grannas-mias_, torches, i. 111

Granno, invocation of, i. 111 _sq._

_Granno-mio_, a torch, i. 111

Grannus, a Celtic deity, identified with Apollo, i. 111 _sq._

Grant, the great laird of, not exempt from witchcraft, i. 342 _n._ 4

Grass, ceremony to make grass plentiful, i. 136

Gratz, puppet burned on St. John’s Eve at, i. 173

Grave, dance at initiation in, ii. 237

Great Man, who created the world and comes down in the form of lightning,
            ii. 298

Greece, Midsummer fires in, i. 211 _sq._;
  mistletoe in, ii. 316, 317

Greek belief as to menstruous women, i. 98 _n._ 1

—— Church, ritual of the new fire at Easter in the, i. 128 _sq._

—— stories of girls who were forbidden to see the sun, i. 72 _sqq._;
  of the external soul, ii. 103 _sqq._

Greeks deemed sacred the places which were struck by lightning, ii. 299

Green Wolf, Brotherhood of the, ii. 15 _n._;
  at Jumièges in Normandy, i. 185 _sq._, ii. 25, 88

Greenlanders, their notion that women can conceive by the moon, i. 75
            _sq._

Gregor, Rev. Walter, ii. 284 _n._ 1;
  on virtue of children born feet foremost, i. 295 _n._ 3;
  on the “quarter-ill,” 296 _n._ 1;
  on the bewitching of cattle, 303

Greig, James S., ii. 187 _n._ 3

Greta, river in Yorkshire, i. 287

Grey, Sir George, on the _kobong_ or totem, ii. 219 _sq._

Grimm, J., on need-fire, i. 270 _n._, 272 _sq._;
  on the relation of the Midsummer fires to Balder, ii. 87 _n._ 6;
  on the sanctity of the oak, 89;
  on the oak and lightning, 300

Grisons, threatening a mist in the, i. 280

Grizzly Bear clan, ii. 274

Groot, J. J. M. de, on mugwort in China, ii. 60

Grottkau, precautions against witches in, ii. 20 _n._

Ground, sacred persons not allowed to set foot on, i. 2 _sqq._;
  not to sit on bare, 4, 5, 12;
  girls at puberty not allowed to touch the, 22, 33, 35, 36, 60;
  magical plants not to touch the, ii. 51;
  mistletoe not allowed to touch the, 280

Grouse clan, ii. 273

Grove, Miss Florence, on withered mistletoe, ii. 287 _n._ 1

Grove, Balder’s, i. 104, ii. 315;
  sacred grove of Nemi, 315;
  soul of chief in sacred, 161.
  _See also_ Arician

Grubb, Rev. W. B., i. 57 _n._ 1

Grün, in Bohemia, mountain arnica gathered at Midsummer at, ii. 58 _n._ 1

Guacheta in Colombia, i. 74

Guaranis of Brazil, their seclusion of girls at puberty, i. 56

Guaraunos of the Orinoco, uncleanness of menstruous women among the, i. 85
            _sq._

Guardian angels, afterbirth and navel-string regarded as a man’s, ii. 162
            _n._ 2

—— spirit, afterbirth and seed regarded as, ii. 223 _n._ 2;
  acquired in a dream, 256 _sq._

Guatemala, the _nagual_ or external soul among the Indians of, ii. 212
            _sq._

Guatusos of Costa Rica, use of bull-roarers among the, ii. 230 _n._

Guayquiries of the Orinoco, their beliefs as to menstruous women, i. 85

Guelphs, the oak of the, ii. 166

Guiana, British, the Macusis of, i. 60;
  ordeals undergone by young men among the Indians of, 63 _sq._

——, French, the Wayanas of, i. 63

_Guizing_ at Christmas in Lerwick, i. 268 _sq._

Guleesh and the fairies at Hallowe’en, i. 277 _sq._

Gunn, David, kindles need-fire, i. 291

Guns fired to drive away witches, ii. 74

Gwalior, Holi fires in, ii. 2

Hadji Mohammad shoots a were-wolf, i. 312 _sq._

Haida Indians of Queen Charlotte Islands, girls at puberty secluded among
            the, i. 44 _sq._

Hail, bonfires thought to protect fields against, i. 344;
  ceremonies to avert, 144, 145;
  Midsummer fires a protection against, 176;
  mountain arnica a protection against, ii. 57 _sq._

—— and thunderstorms caused by witches, i. 344

Hainan, island, i. 137

Hainaut, province of Belgium, fire customs in, i. 108;
  procession of giants in, ii. 36

Hair, unguent for, i. 14;
  prohibition to cut, 28;
  of girls at puberty shaved, 31, 56, 57, 59;
  Hindoo ritual of cutting a child’s, 99 _n._ 2;
  of the Virgin or St. John looked for in ashes of Midsummer fire, 182
              _sq._, 190, 191;
  external soul in, ii. 103 _sq._, 148;
  strength of people bound up with their, 158 _sq._;
  of criminals, witches, and wizards shorn to make them confess, 158
              _sq._;
  of children tied to trees, 165;
  of novices cut at initiation, 245, 251

—— and nails of child buried under a tree, ii. 161

Hairy Stone, the, at Midsummer, i. 212

Halberstadt district, need-fire in the, i. 273

Hall, C. F., among the Esquimaux, i. 13, 134

——,  Rev. G. R., quoted, i. 198

Hallowe’en, new fire at, in Ireland, i. 139;
  an old Celtic festival of New Year, 224 _sqq._;
  divination at, 225, 228 _sqq._;
  witches, hobgoblins, and fairies let loose at, 226 _sqq._, 245;
  witches and fairies active on, ii. 184 _n._ 4, 185

—— and Beltane, the two chief fire festivals of the British Celts, ii. 40
            _sq._

—— cakes, i. 238, 241, 245

—— fires, i. 222 _sq._, 230 _sqq._;
  in Wales, 156

Halmahera, rites of initiation in, ii. 248

Haltwhistle, in Northumberland, burnt sacrifice at, i. 301

Hamilton, Gavin, quoted, i. 47 _sq._

Hammocks, girls at puberty hung up in, i. 56, 59, 60, 61, 66

“Hand of Glory,” mandragora, ii. 316

Hannibal despoils the shrine on Soracte, ii. 15

Hanover, the need-fire in, i. 275;
  Easter bonfires in, 140;
  custom on St. John’s Day about, ii. 56

Hare, pastern bone of a, in a popular remedy, i. 17

Hares, witches in the form of, i. 157;
  witches changed into, 315 _n._ 1, 316 _sqq._, ii. 41

Hares and witches in Yorkshire, ii. 197

Hareskin Tinneh, seclusion of girls at puberty among the, i. 48

Harris, Slope of Big Stones in, i. 227

Hartland, E. S., on the life-token, ii. 119 _n._

Haruvarus, degenerate Brahmans, their fire-walk, ii. 9

Harz district, Easter bonfires in the, i. 140;
  Midsummer fires in the, 169

—— Mountains, Easter fires in the, i. 142;
  need-fire in the, 276;
  springwort in the, ii. 69 _sqq._

Hats, special, worn by girls at puberty, i. 45, 46, 47, 92.
  _See also_ Hoods

Hausa story of the external soul, ii. 148 _sq._

Hawaiians, the New Year of the, ii. 244

Hawkweed gathered at Midsummer, ii. 57

Hawthorn, mistletoe on, ii. 315, 316

Haxthausen, A. von, i. 181

Hays of Errol, their fate bound up with an oak-tree and the mistletoe
            growing on it, ii. 283 _sq._

Hazebrouch, in France, wicker giants on Shrove Tuesday at, ii. 35

Hazel, the divining-rod made of, ii. 67 _sq._;
  never struck by lightning, 69 _n._

—— rods to drive cattle with, i. 204

Headache, cure for, i. 17;
  mugwort a protection against, ii. 59

Headdress, special, worn by girls at first menstruation, i. 92

Headless Hugh, Highland story of, ii. 130 _sq._

—— horsemen in India, ii. 131 _n._ 1

Heads or faces of menstruous women covered, i. 22, 24, 25, 29, 31, 44
            _sq._, 48 _sq._, 55, 90

Hearne, Samuel, quoted, i. 90 _sq._

Heart of bewitched animal burnt or boiled to compel the witch to appear,
            i. 321 _sq._

Hearts of diseased cattle cut out and hung up as a remedy, i. 269 _n._ 1,
            325

Heaven, the Queen of, ii. 303

—— and earth, between, i. 1 _sqq._, 98 _sq._

Hector, first chief of Lochbuy, ii. 131 _n._ 1

Heiberg, Sigurd K., i. 171 _n._ 3

Heifer sacrificed at kindling need-fire, i. 290

Helensburgh, in Dumbartonshire, Hallowe’en at, i. 237 _n._ 5

“Hell-gate of Ireland,” i. 226

Helmsdale, in Sutherland, need-fire at, i. 295

Helpful animals in fairy tales, ii. 107, 117, 120, 127 _sqq._, 130, 132,
            133, 139 _n._ 2, 140 _sq._, 149

Hemlock branch, external soul of ogress in a, ii. 152

Hemlock branches, passing through a ring of, in time of sickness, ii. 186

—— stone in Nottinghamshire, i. 157

Hemorrhoids, root of orpine a cure for, ii. 62 _n._

Hemp, how to make hemp grow tall, i. 109;
  leaping over the Midsummer bonfire to make the hemp grow tall, 166, 168

—— seed, divination by, i. 235, 241, 245

Hen and chickens imitated by a woman and her children at Christmas, i. 260

Henderson, William, on need-fire, i. 288 _sq._;
  on a remedy for cattle-disease, 296 _n._ 1;
  on burnt sacrifice of ox, 301

Hen’s egg, external soul of giant in a, ii. 140 _sq._

Henshaw, Richard, on external or bush souls in Calabar, ii. 205 _sq._

Hephaestus worshipped in Lemnos, i. 138

Herb, a magic, gathered at Hallowe’en, i. 228

—— of St. John, mugwort, ii. 58

Herbs thrown across the Midsummer fires, i. 182, 201;
  wonderful, gathered on St. John’s Eve or Day, ii. 45 _sqq._;
  of St. John, wonderful virtues ascribed to, 46

—— and flowers cast into the Midsummer bonfires, i. 162, 163, 172, 173

Hercules at Argyrus, temple of, i. 99 _n._ 3

Herdsmen dread witches and wolves, i. 343

Herefordshire, Midsummer fires in, i. 199;
  the Yule log in, 257 _sq._

Herndon, W. L., quoted, i. 62 _n._ 3

Hernia, cure for, i. 98 _n._ 1

Herodias, cursed by Slavonian peasants, i. 345

Herrera, A. de, on _naguals_ among the Indians of Honduras, ii. 213 _sq._

Herrick, Robert, on the Yule log, i. 255

Herring, salt, divination by, i. 239

Herzegovina, the Yule log in, i. 263;
  need-fire in, 288

Hesse, Lenten fire-custom in, i. 118;
  Easter fires in, 140;
  wells decked with flowers on Midsummer Day in, ii. 28

Hewitt, J. N. B., on need-fire of the Iroquois, i. 299 _sq._

Hiaina district of Morocco, ii. 51

Hidatsa Indians, their theory of the plurality of souls, ii. 221 _sq._

_Hieracium pilosella_, mouse-ear hawk-weed, gathered at Midsummer, ii. 57

Higgins, Rev. J. C., i. 207 _n._ 2

High Alps, department of the, Midsummer fires in the, ii. 39 _sq._

High Priest, the Fijian, ii. 245

Highland story of Headless Hugh, ii. 130 _sq._

Highlanders of Scotland, their medicinal applications of menstruous blood,
            i. 98 _n._ 1;
  their belief in the power of witches to destroy cattle, 343 _n._ 1;
  their belief concerning snake stones, ii. 311

Highlands of Scotland, snake stones in the, i. 16;
  Beltane fires in the, 146 _sqq._;
  divination at Hallowe’en in the, 229, 234 _sqq._;
  need-fire and Beltane fire kindled by the friction of oak in the, ii. 91

Hildesheim, Easter rites of fire and water at, i. 124;
  Easter bonfires at, 141;
  the need-fire at, 272 _sq._;
  hawk-weed gathered on Midsummer Day at, ii. 57

Hill of the Fires in the Highlands of Scotland, i. 149

—— of Ward, in County Meath, i. 139

Himalayan districts, mistletoe in the, ii. 316

Hindoo maidens secluded at puberty, i. 68

—— marriage custom, i. 75

—— ritual, abstinence from salt in, i. 27;
  as to cutting a child’s hair, 99 _n._ 2

—— stories of the external soul, ii. 97 _sqq._

—— use of menstruous fluid, i. 98 _n._ 1

—— women, their restrictions at menstruation, i. 84

Hindoos of Southern India, their Pongol festival, ii. 1;
  of the Punjaub, their custom of passing unlucky children through narrow
              openings, 190

Hippopotamus, external soul of chief in, ii. 200;
  lives of persons bound up with those of hippopotamuses, 201, 202, 205,
              209

Hirpi Sorani, their fire-walk, ii. 14 _sq._

Hlubi chief, his external soul in a pair of ox-horns, ii. 156

Hoare, Sir Richard Colt, on Hallowe’en in Wales, i. 239

Hogg, Alexander, i. 206

Hogmanay, the last day of the year, i. 224, 266

Hohenstaufen Mountains in Wurtemberg, Midsummer fires in the, i. 166

Hole in tongue of medicine-man, ii. 238, 239

Holed stones which people creep through as a cure, ii. 187 _sqq._

Holes in rocks or stones, sick people passed through, ii. 186 _sqq._

Holi, a festival of Northern India, ii. 2 _sq._

Holiness or taboo conceived as a dangerous physical substance which needs
            to be insulated, i. 6 _sq._

Holland, Easter fires in, i. 145

Hollantide Eve (Hallowe’en) in the Isle of Man, i. 244

Hollertau, Bavaria, Easter fires in the, i. 122

Hollis, A. C., ii. 262 _n._ 2

Holly-tree, children passed through a cleft, ii. 169 _n._ 2

Holm-oak, the Golden Bough growing on a, ii. 285

Holy Apostles, church of the, at Florence, i. 126

—— Land, fire flints brought from the, i. 126

—— of Holies, the Fijian, ii. 244, 245

—— Sepulchre, church of the, at Jerusalem, ceremony of the new fire in
            the, i. 128 _sq._

Homesteads protected by bonfires against lightning and conflagration, i.
            344

Homoeopathic or imitative magic, i. 49, 133, ii. 287

Homoeopathy, magical, ii. 177

Homolje mountains in Servia, i. 282

Honduras, the _nagual_ or external soul among the Indians of, ii. 213
            _sq._, 226 _n._ 1

Honorific totems of the Carrier Indians, ii. 273 _sqq._

Hoods worn by women after childbirth, i. 20;
  worn by girls at puberty, 44 _sq._, 48 _sq._, 55;
  worn by women at menstruation, 90.
  _See also_ Hats

Hoop, crawling through a, as a cure or preventive of disease, ii. 184;
  of rowan-tree, sheep forced through a, 184

Hoopoe brings the mythical springwort, ii. 70 _n._ 2

Horatius purified for the murder of his sister, ii. 194

Hornbeam, mistletoe on, ii. 315

Horse, the White, effigy carried through Midsummer fire, i. 203 _sq._;
  witch in the shape of a, 319

—— sacrifice in ancient India, ii. 80 _n._ 3

Horse’s head thrown into Midsummer fire, ii. 40

Horse-chestnut, mistletoe on, ii. 315

Horses used by sacred persons, i. 4 _n._ 1;
  not to be touched or ridden by menstruous women, 88 _sq._, 96;
  driven through the need-fire, 276, 297

Hos, the, of Togoland (West Africa), their dread of menstruous women, i.
            82

Hose, Dr. Charles, on creeping through a cleft stick after a funeral, ii.
            175 _sq._

—— and W. McDougall, on the _ngarong_ or secret helper of the Ibans, ii.
            224 _n._ 1

Hother, Hodr, or Hod, the blind god, and Balder, i. 101 _sqq._, ii. 279
            _n._ 4

Hottentots drive their sheep through fire, ii. 11 _sqq._

House-communities of the Servians, i. 259 _n._ 1

Houses protected by bonfires against lightning and conflagration, i. 344;
  made fast against witches on Midsummer Eve, ii. 73

“—— of the soul” in Isaiah, ii. 155 _n._ 3

Housman, Professor A. E., on the feast of the Nativity of the Virgin, i.
            220 _sq._

Houstry, in Caithness, need-fire at, i. 291 _sq._

Howitt, A. W., on seclusion of menstruous women, i. 78;
  on killing a totem animal, ii. 220 _n._ 2;
  on secrecy of totem names, 225 _n._;
  on the drama of resurrection at initiation, 235 _sqq._

Howitt, Miss E. B., ii. 226 _n._ 1

Howth, the western promontory of, Midsummer fire on, i. 204

—— Castle, life-tree of the St. Lawrence family at, ii. 166

Huahine, one of the Tahitian islands, ii. 11 _n._ 3

Hudson Bay Territory, the Chippeways of, i. 90

Hughes, Miss E. P., on the fire-walk in Japan, ii. 10 _n._ 1

Human beings burnt in the fires, ii. 21 _sqq._

—— divinities put to death, i. 1 _sq._

—— sacrifices at fire-festivals, i. 106;
  traces of, 146, 148, 150 _sqq._, 186, ii. 31;
  offered by the ancient Germans, ii. 28 _n._ 1;
  among the Celts of Gaul, 32 _sq._;
  the victims perhaps witches and wizards, 41 _sqq._;
  Mannhardt’s theory, 43

—— victims annually burnt, ii. 286 _n._ 2

Hungarian story of the external soul, ii. 140

Hungary, Midsummer fires in, i. 178 _sq._

Hunt, Holman, his picture of the new fire at Jerusalem, i. 130 _n._

Hunt, Robert, on burnt sacrifices, i. 303

Hunters avoid girls at puberty, i. 44, 46;
  luck of, spoiled by menstruous women, 87, 89, 90, 91, 94

Huon Gulf in German New Guinea, ii. 239

Hupa Indians of California, seclusion of girls among the, i. 42

Hurons of Canada, custom of their women at menstruation, i. 88 _n._ 1

_Huskanaw_, initiatory ceremony of the Virginian Indians, ii. 266

Hut burnt at Midsummer, i. 215 _sq._

Hutchinson, W., quoted, i. 197 _n._ 4

Huts, special, for menstruous women, i. 79, 82, 85 _sqq._

Huzuls of the Carpathians kindle new fire at Christmas, i. 264;
  gather simples on St. John’s Night, ii. 49

Hyaenas, men turned into, i. 313

_Hypericum perforatum_, St. John’s wort, gathered at Midsummer, ii. 54
            _sqq._
  _See also_ St. John’s Wort

_Hyphear_, a kind of mistletoe, ii. 317, 318

Hyrrockin, a giantess, i. 102

Ibans of Borneo, their _ngarong_ or secret helper, ii. 224 _n._ 1

Ibos of the Niger delta, their belief in external human souls lodged in
            animals, ii. 203 _sq._

Ibrahim Pasha, i. 129

Icelandic stories of the external soul, ii. 123 _sqq._

Icolmkill, the hill of the fires in, i. 149

Ideler, L., on the Arab year before Mohammed, i. 217 _n._ 1

_Idhlozi_, ancestral spirit in serpent form, ii. 211

Iglulik, Esquimaux of, i. 134

Ilmenau, witches burnt at, i. 6

Iluvans of Malabar, marriage custom of, i. 5

Image of god carried through fire, ii. 4;
  reason for carrying over a fire, 24

Images, colossal, filled with human victims and burnt, ii. 32 _sq._

Imitative magic, i. 329, ii. 231

Immortality, the burdensome gift of, i. 99 _sq._;
  of the soul, experimental demonstration of the, ii. 276

Immortelles, wreaths of, on Midsummer Day, i. 177

Implements, magical, not allowed to touch the ground, i. 14 _sq._

Impregnation of women by the sun, i. 74 _sq._;
  by the moon, 75 _sq._

“—— rite” at Hindoo marriages, i. 75

Inauguration of a king in Brahmanic ritual, i. 4

Inca, fast of the future, i. 19

Incas of Peru, their ceremony of the new fire, i. 132

Incantation recited at kindling need-fire, i. 290

Inconsistency and vagueness of primitive thought, ii. 301 _sq._

India, seclusion of girls at puberty in, i. 68 _sqq._;
  fire-festivals in, ii. 1 _sqq._;
  sixty years’ cycle in, 77 _n._ 1;
  the horse-sacrifice in ancient, 80 _n._ 3;
  torture of suspected witches in, 159;
  ancient, traditional cure of skin disease in, 192;
  _Loranthus_ in, 317

Indian Archipelago, birth-custom in the, ii. 155

—— legend parallel to Balder myth, ii. 280

Indians of Costa Rica, their customs in fasts, i. 20

—— of Granada seclude their future rulers, i. 19

Indians of North America, not allowed to sit on bare ground in war, i. 5;
  seclusion of girls among the, 41 _sqq._;
  imitate lightning by torches, 340 _n._ 1;
  rites of initiation into religious associations among the, ii. 267
              _sqq._

“Index of Superstitions,” i. 270

Indra and Apala, in the Rigveda, ii. 192

—— and the demon Namuci, Indian legend of, ii. 280

Indrapoora, story of the daughter of a merchant of, ii. 147

Infants tabooed, i. 5, 20

Ingleborough in Yorkshire, i. 288

Ingleton, in Yorkshire, need-fire at, i. 288

Ingniet or Ingiet, a secret society of New Britain, ii. 156

Initiation, rites in German New Guinea, ii. 193;
  at puberty, pretence of killing the novice and bringing him to life
              again during, 225 _sqq._;
  in Australia, 227, 233 _sqq._;
  in New Guinea, 239 _sqq._;
  in Fiji, 243 _sqq._;
  in Rook, 246;
  in New Britain, 246 _sq._;
  in Halmahera, 248;
  in Fiji apparently intended to introduce the novices to the worshipful
              spirits of the dead, 246;
  in Ceram, 249 _sqq._;
  in Africa, 251 _sqq._;
  in North America, 266 _sqq._

—— of young men, bull-roarers sounded at the, ii. 227 _sqq._, 233 _sqq._;
  of a medicine-man in Australia, 237 _sqq._

Inn, effigies burnt at Midsummer in the valley of the river, i. 172 _sq._

Innerste, river, i. 124

Innuits (Esquimaux), i. 14

Insanity, burying in an ant-hill as a cure for, i. 64

Inspired men walk through fire unharmed, ii. 5 _sq._

Insulation of women at menstruation, i. 97

Interpretation of the fire-festivals, i. 328 _sqq._, ii. 15 _sqq._

Inverness-shire, Beltane cakes in, i. 153

Invulnerability conferred by a species of mistletoe, ii. 79 _sq._;
  conferred by decoction of a parasitic orchid, 81;
  of Balder, 94;
  attained through blood-brotherhood with animal, 201;
  thought to be attained through initiation, 275 _sq._, 276 _n._ 1

Invulnerable warlock or giant, stories of the, ii. 97 _sqq._

Ipswich witches, i. 304 _sq._

Iran, marriage custom in, i. 75

Ireland, the Druid’s Glass in, i. 16;
  new fire at Hallowe’en in, 139, 225;
  Beltane fires in, 157 _sq._;
  Midsummer fires in, 201 _sqq._;
  fairies at Hallowe’en in, 226 _sq._;
  Hallowe’en customs in, 241 _sq._;
  witches as hares in, 315 _n._ 1;
  bathing at Midsummer in, ii. 29;
  cure for whooping-cough in, 192 _n._ 1

Irish story of the external soul, ii. 132

Iron not to be used in digging fern root, ii. 65;
  mistletoe gathered without the use of, 78;
  not to be used in cutting certain plants, 81 _n._;
  custom observed by the Toradjas at the working of, 154

Iron-wort, bunches of, held in the smoke of the Midsummer fires, i. 179

Iroquois, ceremony of the new fire among the, i. 133 _sq._;
  need-fire among the, 299 _sq._

Isaiah, “houses of the soul” in, ii. 155 _n._ 3

Isfendiyar and Rustem, i. 104 _sq._, 314

Island, need-fire kindled in an, i. 290 _sq._, 291 _sq._

Isle de France, Midsummer giant burnt in, ii. 38

—— of Man, Beltane fires in the, i. 157.
  _See_ Man, Isle of

Istria, the Croats of, ii. 75

Italian stories of the external soul, ii. 105, _sqq._;
  ancient practice of passing conquered enemies under a yoke, 193 _sq._

Italians, the oak the chief sacred tree among the ancient, ii. 89

Italy, birth-trees in, ii. 165;
  mistletoe in, 316, 317

_Itongo_, plural _amatongo_, ii. 202 _n._

Ivory Coast, totemism among the Siena of the, ii. 220 _n._ 2

Ivy to dream on, i. 242

_Ixia_, a kind of mistletoe, ii. 317, 318

Jablanica, need-fire at, i. 286

Jack-in-the-Green, ii. 37

Jaffa, new Easter fire carried to, i. 130 _n._

Jakkaneri, in the Neilgherry Hills, the fire-walk at, ii. 9

James, M. R., on the Sibyl’s Wish, i. 100 _n._

James and Philip, the Apostles, feast of, i. 158

Jamieson, J., on the “quarter-ill,” i. 296 _n._ 1

January, the Holi festival in, ii. 1;
  the fire-walk in, 8

—— the sixth, the nativity of Christ on, i. 246

Janus and Jupiter, ii. 302 _n._ 2

Japan, the Ainos of, i. 20, ii. 60;
  the fire-walk in, 9 _sq._

Japanese ceremony of new fire, i. 137 _sq._

Java, birth-trees in, ii. 161 _n._ 1

Jebel Bela mountain, in the Sudan, i. 313

Jerusalem, ceremony of the new fire, at Easter in, i. 128 _sq._

Jeugny, the forest of, ii. 316

Jevons, Dr. F. B., on the Roman _genius_, ii. 212 _n._

Jewitt, John R., on ritual of mimic death among the Nootka Indians, ii.
            270

_Johanniswurzel_, the male fern, ii. 66

Johnstone, Rev. A., quoted, i. 233

_Jônee_, _joanne_, _jouanne_, the Midsummer fire (the fire of St. John),
            i. 189

Joyce, P. W., on driving cattle through fires, i. 159 _n._ 2;
  on the bisection of the Celtic year, 223 _n._ 2

Judas, effigies of, burnt in Easter fires, i. 121, 127 _sq._, 130 _sq._,
            143, 146, ii. 23;
  driven out of church on Good Friday, i. 146

—— candle, i. 122 _n._

—— fire at Easter, i. 123, 144

Julian calendar used by Mohammedans, i. 218 _sq._

July, procession of giants at Douay in, ii. 33

—— the twenty-fifth, St. James’s Day, flower of chicory cut on, ii. 71

Jumièges, in Normandy, Brotherhood of the Green Wolf at, i. 185 _sq._, ii.
            25

Jumping over a wife, significance of, i. 23

June, the fifteenth of, St. Vitus’s Day, i. 335

—— the fire-walk in, ii. 6

Juniper burnt in need-fire, i. 288;
  used to fumigate byres, 296

Juno and Diana, ii. 302 _n._ 2

Jupiter represented by an oak-tree on the Capitol, ii. 89;
  perhaps personified by the King of the Wood, the priest of Diana at
              Nemi, 302 _sq._;
  Jupiter and Janus, 302 _n._ 2

——, cycle of sixty years based on the sidereal revolution of the planet,
            ii. 77 _n._ 1

Jura, fire-custom at Lent in the, i. 114

—— Mountains, Midsummer bonfires in the, i. 188 _sq._;
  the Yule log in the, 249

Jurby, parish of, in the Isle of Man, i. 305

Jutland, sick children and cattle passed through holes in turf in, ii.
            191;
  superstitions about a parasitic rowan in, 281

_Ka_, external soul or double in ancient Egypt, ii. 157 _n._ 2

Kabadi, a district of British New Guinea, i. 35

Kabenau river, in German New Guinea, ii. 193

Kabyle tale, milk-tie in a, ii. 138 _n._ 1;
  the external soul in a, 139

Kahma, in Burma, annual extinction of fires in, i. 136

Kai of New Guinea, their seclusion of women at menstruation, i. 79;
  their use of a cleft stick as a cure, ii. 182;
  their rites of initiation, 239 _sqq._

Kail, divination by stolen, i. 234 _sq._

Kakian association in Ceram, rites of initiation in the, ii. 249 _sqq._

Kalmuck story of the external soul, ii. 142

Kamenagora in Croatia, Midsummer fires at, i. 178

Kamtchatkans, their purification after a death, ii. 178

Kanna district, Northern Nigeria, ii. 210

Kappiliyans of Madura, their seclusion of girls at puberty, i. 69

Karens of Burma, their custom at childbirth, ii. 157

Kasai River, ii. 264

Katajalina, a spirit who eats up boys at initiation and restores them to
            life, ii. 234

Katrine, Loch, i. 231

Kauffmann, Professor F., i. 102 _n._ 1, 103 _n._;
  on the external soul, ii. 97 _n._

Kaupole, a Midsummer pole in Eastern Prussia, ii. 49

Kawars, of India, their cure for fever, ii. 190

Kaya-Kaya or Tugeri of Dutch New Guinea, their use of bull-roarers, ii.
            242

Kayans or Bahaus of Central Borneo, i. 4 _sq._;
  custom observed by them after a funeral, ii. 175 _sq._;
  their way of giving the slip to a demon, 179

Keating, Geoffrey, Irish historian, quoted, i. 139;
  on the Beltane fires, 158

Keating, W. H., quoted, i. 89

Kei Islands, birth-custom in the, ii. 155

Keitele, Lake, in Finland, ii. 165

Kemble, J. M., on need-fire, i. 288

Kerry, Midsummer fires in, i. 203

_Kersavondblok_, the Yule log, i. 249

_Kersmismot_, the Yule log, i. 249

Khambu caste in Sikkhim, their custom after a funeral, ii. 18

Kharwars of Mirzapur, their dread of menstruous women, i. 84

Khasis of Assam, story of the external soul told by the, i. 146 _sq._

Khnumu, Egyptian god, fashions a wife for Bata, ii. 135

Khonds, human sacrifices among the, ii. 286 _n._ 2

Kia blacks of Queensland, their treatment of girls at puberty, i. 39

Kidd, Dudley, on external souls of chiefs, ii. 156 _n._ 2

Kildare, Midsummer fires in, i. 203

Kilkenny, Midsummer fires in, i. 203

Killin, the hill of the fires at, i. 149

Killing a totem animal, ii. 220

—— the novice and bringing him to life again at initiation, pretence of,
            ii. 225

King, nominal, chosen at Midsummer, i. 194, ii. 25;
  presides at summer bonfire, 38

—— and Queen of Roses, i. 195

—— of the Bean, i. 153 _n._ 3

—— of Summer chosen on St. Peter’s Day, i. 195

—— of the Wood at Nemi put to death, i. 2;
  in the Arician grove a personification of an oak-spirit, ii. 285;
  the priest of Diana at Aricia, perhaps personified Jupiter, 302 _sq._
  _See also_ Kings

Kingaru, clan of the Wadoe, ii. 313

Kings, sacred or divine, put to death, i. 1 _sq._;
  subject to taboos, 2

—— and priests, their sanctity analogous to the uncleanness of women at
            menstruation, i. 97 _sq._

—— of Uganda, their life bound up with barkcloth trees, ii. 160

_Kings, The Epic of_, i. 104

Kingsley, Miss Mary H., on external or bush souls, ii. 204 _sq._;
  on rites of initiation in West Africa, 259

Kingussie, in Inverness-shire, Beltane cakes at, i. 153

Kinship created by the milk-tie, ii. 138 _n._ 1

Kirchmeyer, Thomas, author of _Regnum Papisticum_, i. 124, 125 _n._ 1;
  his account of Midsummer customs, 162 _sq._

Kirghiz story of girl who might not see the sun, i. 74

Kirk Andreas, in the Isle of Man, i. 306

Kirkmichael, in Perthshire, Beltane fires and cakes at, i. 153

Kirton Lindsey, in Lincolnshire, i. 318;
  medical use of mistletoe at, ii. 84

Kitching, Rev. A. L., on cure for lightning stroke, ii. 298 _n._ 2

Kiwai, island off New Guinea, use of bull-roarers in, ii. 232

Kiziba, to the west of Victoria Nyanza, theory of the afterbirth in, ii.
            162 _n._ 2

Kloo, in the Queen Charlotte Islands, i. 45

Knawel, St. John’s blood on root of, ii. 56

Knife, divination by, i. 241;
  soul of child bound up with, ii. 157;
  “Darding Knife,” honorific totem of the Carrier Indians, 273, 274 _sq._

_Kobong_, totem, in Western Australia, ii. 219 _sq._

Köhler, Joh., lights need-fire and burnt as a witch, i. 270 _sq._

Köhler, Reinhold, on the external soul in folk-tales, ii. 97 _n._

Kolelo, in East Africa, ii. 313

Konz on the Moselle, custom of rolling a burning wheel down hill at, i.
            118, 163 _sq._, 337 _sq._

Kooboos of Sumatra, their theory of the afterbirth and navel-string, ii.
            162 _n._ 2

Koppenwal, church of St. Corona at, ii. 188 _sq._

Koran, passage of, used as a charm, i. 18

Koryaks, their festivals of the dead and subsequent purification, ii. 178;
  their custom in time of pestilence, 179

Koshchei the Deathless, Russian story of, ii. 108 _sqq._

Koskimo Indians of British Columbia, use of bull-roarers among the, ii.
            229 _n._

Kreemer, J., on the Looboos of Sumatra, ii. 182 _sq._

Kroeber, A. L., quoted, i. 41 _sq._

Kruijt, A. C., on Toradja custom as to the working of iron, ii. 154 _n._ 3

_Kuga_, an evil spirit, i. 282

Kuhn, Adalbert, on need-fire, i. 273;
  on Midsummer fire, 335;
  on the divining-rod, ii. 67

Kühnau, R., on precautions against witches in Silesia, ii. 20 _n._

Kukunjevac, in Slavonia, need-fire at, i. 282

Kulin nation of South-Eastern Australia, sex totems in the, ii. 216

—— tribe of Victoria, ii. 226 _n._ 1

Kumaon, in North-West India, the Holi festival in, ii. 2

Kupalo, image of, burnt or thrown into stream on St. John’s Night, i. 176;
  effigy of, carried across fire and thrown into water, ii. 5, 23

Kupalo’s Night, Midsummer Eve, i. 175, 176

Kurnai, a tribe of Gippsland, sex totems and fights concerning them among
            the, ii. 215 _n._ 1, 216

Küstendil, in Bulgaria, need-fire at, i. 281

Kwakiutl, Indians of British Columbia, their story of an ogress whose life
            was in a hemlock branch, ii. 152;
  pass through a hemlock ring in time of epidemic, 186

Kylenagranagh, the hill of, in Ireland, i. 324

La Manche, in Normandy, Lenten fire-custom in, i. 115

La Paz, in Bolivia, Midsummer fires at, i. 213;
  Midsummer flowers at, ii. 50 _sq._

Lacaune, belief as to mistletoe at, ii. 83

Lachlan River, in Australia, ii. 233

Lachlins of Rum and deer, superstition concerning, ii. 284

Ladyday, ii. 282

Lahn, the Yule log in the valley of the, i. 248

Lamb burnt alive to save the rest of the flock, i. 301

Lammas, the first of August, superstitious practice at, i. 98 _n._ 1

_Lamoa_, gods in Poso, ii. 154

Lancashire, Hallowe’en customs in, i. 244 _sq._

Landak, district of Dutch Borneo, i. 5, ii. 164

Lanercost, Chronicle of, i. 286

Lang, Andrew, on the fire-walk, ii. 2 _n._ 1;
  on the bull-roarer, 228 _n._ 2

Language of animals learned by means of fern-seed, ii. 66 _n._

_L’ánṣăra_ (_El Anṣarah_), Midsummer Day in North Africa, i. 213, 214 _n._

Lanyon, in Cornwall, holed stone near, ii. 187

Laon, Midsummer fires near, i. 187

Laos, custom of elephant hunters in, i. 5;
  the natives of, their doctrine of the plurality of souls, ii. 222

Lapps, their rule as to menstruous women, i. 91;
  their story of the external soul, ii. 140 _sq._;
  their custom of shooting arrows at skin of dead bear, 280 _n._

Larkspur, looking at Midsummer bonfires through bunches of, i. 163, 165
            _sq._

Larrakeeyah tribe of South Australia, their treatment of girls at puberty,
            i. 38

Laurus and Florus, feast of, on August 18th, i. 220

Lausitz, Midsummer fires in, i. 170;
  marriage oaks in, ii. 165

Lawgivers, ancient, on the uncleanness of women at menstruation, i. 95
            _sq._

Lead, melted, divination by, i. 242

Leaf-clad mummer on Midsummer Day, ii. 25 _sq._

Leaping over bonfires to ensure good crops, i. 107;
  as a preventive of colic, 107, 195 _sq._, 344;
  to make the flax grow tall, 119, 165, 166, 166 _sq._, 168, 173, 174,
              337;
  to ensure a happy marriage, 107, 108;
  to ensure a plentiful harvest, 155, 156;
  to be free from backache at reaping, 165, 168;
  as a preventive of fever, 166, 173, 194;
  for luck, 171, 189;
  in order to be free from ague, 174;
  in order to marry and have many children, 204, 338 _sq._;
  as cure of sickness, 214;
  to procure offspring, 214, 338;
  over ashes of fire as remedy for skin diseases, ii. 2;
  after a burial to escape the ghost, 18;
  a panacea for almost all ills, 20;
  as a protection against witchcraft, 40

Leaping of women over the Midsummer bonfires to ensure an easy delivery,
            i. 194, 339

Leaps of lovers over the Midsummer bonfires, i. 165, 166, 168, 174

Leather, Mrs. Ella Mary, on the Yule log, i. 257 _sq._

Lebanon, peasants of the, their dread of menstruous women, i. 83 _sq._

Lech, Midsummer fires in the valley of the, i. 166

Lechrain, the divining rod in, ii. 68

Lecky, W. E. H., on the treatment of magic and witchcraft by the Christian
            Church, ii. 42 _n._ 2

Lee, the laird of, his “cureing stane,” i. 325

_Leeting_ the witches, i. 245

Legends of persons who could not die, i. 99 _sq._

Legs and thighs of diseased cattle cut off and hung up as a remedy, i. 296
            _n._ 1, 325

Leine, river, i. 124

Leinster, Midsummer fires in, i. 203

Leitrim, Midsummer fires in County, i. 203;
  divination at Hallowe’en in, 242;
  need-fire in, 297;
  witch as hare in, 318

Lemnos, worship of Hephaestus in, i. 138

Lemon, external souls of ogres in a, ii. 102

Lengua Indians of the Paraguayan Chaco, i. 75 _n._ 2;
  seclusion of girls at puberty among the, 56;
  masquerade of boys among, 57 _n._ 1

Lent, the first Sunday in, fire-festival on, i. 107 _sqq._;
  bonfires on, 107 _sqq._

Lenten fires, i. 106 _sqq._

Lenz, H. O., on ancient names for mistletoe, ii. 318

Leobschütz, in Silesia, Midsummer fires at, i. 170

Leonard, Major A. G., on souls of people in animals, ii. 206 _n._ 2

Leopard the commonest familiar of Fan wizards, ii. 202

Leopards, lives of persons bound up with those of, ii. 201, 202, 203, 204,
            205, 206;
  external human souls in, 207

Lerwick, Christmas _guizing_ at, i. 268 _sq._;
  procession with lighted tar-barrels on Christmas Eve at, 268;
  celebration of Up-helly-a’ at, 269 _n._ 1

Lesachthal (Carinthia), new fire at Easter in the, i. 124

Lesbos, fires on St. John’s Eve in, i. 211 _sq._

Leslie, David, on Caffre belief as to spirits of the dead incarnate in
            serpents, ii. 211 _n._ 2, 212 _n._

L’Étoile, Lenten fires at, i. 113

Lettermore Island, Midsummer fires in, i. 203

Letts of Russia, Midsummer fires among the, i. 177 _sq._;
  gather aromatic plants on Midsummer Day, ii. 50

Lewis, Professor W. J., i. 127 _n._ 1

Lewis, island of, custom of fiery circle in the, i. 151 _n._;
  need-fire in the, 293

_Lexicon Mythologicum_, author of, on the Golden Bough, ii. 284 _n._ 3

Lhwyd, Edward, on snake stones, i. 16 _n._ 1

License, annual period of, i. 135;
  at Midsummer festival, 180, 339

Liège, Lenten fires near, i. 108

Lierre, in Belgium, the witches’ Sabbath at, ii. 73

Life of community bound up with life of divine king, i. 1 _sq._;
  the water of, ii. 114 _sq._;
  of woman bound up with ornament, 156;
  of a man bound up with the capital of a column, 156 _sq._;
  of a man bound up with fire in hut, 157;
  of child bound up with knife, 157;
  of children bound up with trees, 160 _sqq._;
  the divisibility of, 221.
  _See also_ Soul

—— -indices, trees and plants as, ii. 160 _sqq._

—— -tokens in fairy tales, ii. 118 _n._ 1

—— -tree of the Manchu dynasty at Peking, ii. 167 _sq._

—— -trees of kings of Uganda, ii. 160

Ligho, a heathen deity of the Letts, i. 177, 178 _n._ 1

Light, girls at puberty not allowed to see the, i. 57;
  external soul of witch in a, ii. 116

Lightning, charred sticks of Easter fire used as a talisman against, i.
            121, 124, 140 _sq._, 145, 146;
  the Easter candle a talisman against, 122;
  brands of the Midsummer bonfires a protection against, 166 _n._ 1, 183;
  flowers thrown on roofs at Midsummer as a protection against, 169;
  charred sticks of bonfires a protection against, 174, 187, 188, 190;
  ashes of Midsummer fires a protection against, 187, 188, 190;
  torches interpreted as imitations of, 340 _n._ 1;
  bonfires a protection against, 344;
  a magical coal a protection against, ii. 61;
  pine-tree struck by, used to make bull-roarer, 231;
  superstitions about trees struck by, 296 _sqq._;
  thought to be caused by a great bird, 297;
  strikes oaks oftener than any other tree of the European forests, 298
              _sq._;
  regarded as a god descending out of heaven, 298;
  mode of treating persons who have been struck by, 298 _n._ 2;
  places struck by lightning enclosed and deemed sacred, 299.
  _See also_ Thunder

Lightning and thunder, the Yule log a protection against, i. 248, 249,
            250, 252, 253, 254, 258, 264;
  mountain arnica a protection against, ii. 57 _sq._

Lillooet Indians of British Columbia, seclusion of girls at puberty among
            the, i. 52 _sq._

Limburg, processions, with torches in, i. 107 _sq._;
  Midsummer fires in, 194;
  the Yule log in, 249

Lime-kiln in divination, i. 235, 243

—— -tree, the bloom of the, gathered at Midsummer, ii. 49;
  mistletoe on limes, 315, 316

—— -wood used to kindle need-fire, i. 281, 283, 286

Lincolnshire, the Yule log in, i. 257;
  witches as cats and hares in, 318;
  calf buried to stop a murrain in, 326;
  mistletoe a remedy for epilepsy and St. Vitus’s dance in, ii. 83 _sq._

Lindenbrog, on need-fire, i. 335 _n._ 1

Lint seed, divination by, i. 235

Liongo, an African Samson, ii. 314

Lion, the sun in the sign of the, ii. 66 _sq._

Lismore, witch as hare in, i. 316 _sq._

Lithuania, Midsummer fires in, i. 176;
  sanctuary at Romove in, ii. 91

Lithuanians, their custom before first ploughing in spring, i. 18;
  their worship of the oak, ii. 89;
  their story of the external soul, 113 _sqq._

Lives of a family bound up with a fish, ii. 200;
  with a cat, 150 _sq._

Living fire made by friction of wood, i. 220;
  the need-fire, 281, 286

Livonia, story of a were-wolf in, i. 308

Livonians cull simples on Midsummer Day, ii. 49 _sq._

Lizard, external soul in, ii. 199 _n._ 1;
  sex totem in the Port Lincoln tribe of South Australia, 216;
  said to have divided the sexes in the human species, 216

Loaf thrown into river Neckar on St. John’s Day, ii. 28

Loango, rule as to infants in, i. 5;
  girls secluded at puberty in, 22

Loch Katrine, i. 231

—— Tay, i. 232

Lock and key in a charm, i. 283

Locks opened by springwort, ii. 70;
  and by the white flower of chicory, 71;
  mistletoe a master-key to open all, 85

Locust, a Batta totem, ii. 223

Log, the Yule, i. 247 _sqq._

Logierait, in Perthshire, Beltane festival in, i. 152 _sq._;
  Hallowe’en fires in, 231 _sq._

Loiret, Lenten fires in the department of, i. 114

Loki and Balder, i. 101 _sq._

Lokoja on the Niger, ii. 209

Lombardy, belief as to the “oil of St. John” on St. John’s Morning in, ii.
            82 _sq._

London, the immortal girl of, i. 99;
  Midsummer fires in, 196 _sq._

Longridge Fell, _leeting_ the witches at, i. 245

Looboos of Sumatra creep through a cleft rattan to escape a demon, ii. 182
            _sq._

Looking at bonfires through mugwort a protection against headache and sore
            eyes, ii. 59

_Loranthus europaeus_, a species of mistletoe, ii. 315, 317 _sqq._;
  called “oak mistletoe” (_visco quercino_) in Italy, 317

—— _vestitus_, in India, ii. 317

Lord of the Wells at Midsummer, ii. 28

Lorne, the Beltane cake in, i. 149

Lorraine, Midsummer fires in, i. 169;
  the Yule log in, 253;
  Midsummer customs in, ii. 47

Loudoun, in Ayrshire, i. 207

Louis XIV. at Midsummer bonfire in Paris, ii. 39

Love-charm of arrows, i. 14

Lovers leap over the Midsummer bonfires, i. 165, 166, 168, 174

Low Countries, the Yule log in the, i. 249

Lowell, Percival, his fire-walk, ii. 10 _n._ 1

Lübeck, church of St. Mary at, i. 100

Lucerne, Lenten fire-custom in the canton of, i. 118 _sq._;
  bathing at Midsummer in, ii. 30

Luchon, in the Pyrenees, serpents burnt alive at the Midsummer festival
            in, ii. 38 _sq._, 43

Lucian, on the Platonic doctrine of the soul, ii. 221 _n._ 1

Luck, leaping over the Midsummer fires for good, i. 171, 189

Luckiness of the right hand, i. 151

Lunar calendar of Mohammedans, i. 216 _sq._, 218 _sq._

Lungs or liver of bewitched animal burnt or boiled to compel the witch to
            appear, i. 321 _sq._

Lushais of Assam, sick children passed through a coil among the, ii. 185
            _sq._

Lussac, in Poitou, Midsummer fires at, i. 191

Luther, Martin, burnt in effigy at Midsummer, i. 167, 172 _sq._, ii. 23

Luxemburg, “Burning the Witch” in, ii. 116

_Lythrum salicaria_, purple loosestrife, gathered at Midsummer, ii. 65

Mabuiag, seclusion of girls at puberty in, i. 36 _sq._;
  dread and seclusion of women at menstruation in, 78 _sq._;
  girls at puberty in, 92 _n._ 1;
  belief as to a species of mistletoe in, ii. 79

Mac Crauford, the great arch witch, i. 293

Macassar in Celebes, magical unguent in, i. 14

Macdonald, Rev. James, on the story of Headless Hugh, ii. 131 _n._ 1;
  on external soul in South Africa, 156

Macdonell, A. A., on Agni, ii. 296

McDougall, W., and C. Hose, on creeping through a cleft stick after a
            funeral, ii. 176 _n._ 1

Macedonia, Midsummer fires among the Greeks of, i. 212;
  bonfires on August 1st in, 220;
  need-fire among the Serbs of Western, 281;
  St. John’s flower at Midsummer in, ii. 50

Macedonian peasantry burn effigies of Judas at Easter, i. 131

McGregor, A. W., on the rite of new birth among the Akikuyu, ii. 263

Mackay, Alexander, on need-fire, i. 294 _sq._

Mackays, sept of the “descendants of the seal,” ii. 131 _sq._

Mackenzie, E., on need-fire, i. 288

Mackenzie, Sheriff David J., i. 268 _n._ 1

Macphail, John, on need-fire, i. 293 _sq._

Macusis of British Guiana, seclusion of girls at puberty among the, i. 60

Madangs of Borneo, custom observed by them after a funeral, ii. 175 _sq._

Madern, parish of, Cornwall, holed stone in, ii. 187

Madonie Mountains, in Sicily, Midsummer fires on the, i. 210

Madras Presidency, the fire-walk in the, ii. 6

Madura, the Kappiliyans of, i. 69;
  the Parivarams of, 69

Maeseyck, processions with torches at, i. 107 _sq._

Magic, homoeopathic or imitative, i. 49, 133, 329, ii. 231, 287;
  dwindles into divination, i. 336;
  movement of thought from magic through religion to science, ii. 304
              _sq._

Magic and ghosts, mugwort a protection against, ii. 59

—— and science, different views of natural order postulated by the two,
            ii. 305 _sq._

—— flowers of Midsummer Eve, ii. 45 _sqq._

Magical bone in sorcery, i. 14

—— implements not allowed to touch the ground, i. 14 _sq._

—— influence of medicine-bag, ii. 268

—— virtues of plants at Midsummer apparently derived from the sun, ii. 71
            _sq._

Magician’s apprentice, Danish story of the, ii. 121 _sqq._

—— Glass, the, i. 16

Magyars, Midsummer fires among the, i. 178 _sq._;
  stories of the external soul among the, ii. 139 _sq._

_Mahabharata_, Draupadi and her five husbands in the, ii. 7

“Maiden-flax” at Midsummer, ii. 48

Maidu Indians of California, seclusion of girls at puberty among the, i.
            42;
  their notion as to fire in trees, ii. 295;
  their idea of lightning, 298

Maimonides, on the seclusion of menstruous women, i. 83

Makalanga, a Bantu tribe, i. 135 _n._ 2

_Makral_, “the witch,” i. 107

Malabar, the Iluvans of, i. 5;
  the Tiyans of, 68

Malassi, a fetish in West Africa, ii. 256

Malay belief as to sympathetic relation between man and animal, ii. 197

—— story of the external soul, ii. 147 _sq._

Malayo-Siamese families of the Patani States, their custom as to the
            afterbirth, ii. 163 _sq._

Malays of the Peninsula, their doctrine of the plurality of souls, ii. 222

Male and female souls in Chinese philosophy, ii. 221

Malkin Tower, witches at the, i. 245

Malta, fires on St. John’s Eve in, i. 210 _sq._

_Malurus cyaneus_, superb warbler, women’s “sister,” among the Kurnai, ii.
            216

Man and animal, sympathetic relation between, ii. 272 _sq._

Man, the Isle of, Midsummer fires in, i. 201, 337;
  old New Year’s Day in, 224 _sq._;
  Hallowe’en customs in, 243 _sq._;
  bonfires on St. Thomas’s Day in, 266;
  cattle burnt alive to stop a murrain in, 325 _sqq._;
  mugwort gathered on Midsummer Eve in, ii. 59.
  _See also_ Isle of Man

Manchu dynasty, the life-tree of the, ii. 167 _sq._

Mandragora, “the hand of glory,” ii. 316

Mang’anje woman, her external soul, ii. 157

Mango tree, festival of wild, i. 7 _sqq._;
  ceremony for the fertilization of the, 10

_Manitoo_, personal totem, ii. 273 _n._ 1

Mannhardt, W., on fire-customs, i. 106 _n._ 3;
  on burning leaf-clad representative of spirit of vegetation, 25;
  his theory that the fires of the fire-festivals are charms to secure
              sunshine, 329, 331 _sqq._;
  on torches as imitations of lightning, 340 _n._ 1;
  on the Hirpi Sorani, ii. 15 _n._;
  on the human victims sacrificed by the Celts, 33;
  his theory of the Druidical sacrifices, 43;
  his solar theory of the bonfires at the European fire-festivals, 72;
  on killing a cock on the harvest-field, 280 _n._

_Mantis religiosus_, a totem, ii. 248 _n._

Manu, Hindoo lawgiver, on the uncleanness of women at menstruation, i. 95;
  the Laws of, on the three births of the Aryan, ii. 276 _sq._

Manx mummers at Hallowe’en, i. 224

Maoris, birth-trees among the, ii. 163

Mara tribe of Northern Australia, initiation of medicine-men in the, ii.
            239

_Marake_, an ordeal of being stung by ants and wasps, i. 63 _sq._

Marcellus of Bordeaux, his medical treatise, i. 17

March, the month of, the fire-walk in, ii. 6;
  mistletoe cut at the full moon of, 84, 86

—— moon, woodbine cut in the increase of the, ii. 184

_Margas_, exogamous totemic clans of the Battas of Sumatra, ii. 222 _sq._

Marilaun, A. Kerner von, on mistletoe, ii. 318 _n._ 6

Marjoram burnt at Midsummer, i. 214;
  gathered at Midsummer, ii. 51;
  a talisman against witchcraft, 74

Mark of Brandenburg, need-fire in the, i. 273;
  simples culled at Midsummer in the, ii. 48;
  St. John’s blood in the, 56;
  the divining-rod in the, 67

Marotse. _See_ Barotse

Marquesas Islands, the fire-walk in the, ii. 11

Marriage, leaping over bonfires to ensure a happy, i. 107, 108, 110;
  omens of, drawn from Midsummer bonfires, 168, 174, 178, 185, 189;
  omens of, drawn from bonfires, 338 _sq._;
  omens of, from flowers, ii. 52 _sq._, 61;
  oak-trees planted at, 165

Married, the person last, lights the bonfire, i. 107, 109, 111, 119, 339;
  young man last married provides wheel to be burnt, 116;
  the person last married officiates at Midsummer fire, 192;
  men married within the year collect fuel for Midsummer fire, 192 _sq._;
  married men kindle need-fire, 289;
  last married bride made to leap over bonfire, ii. 22

Mars and Silvia, ii. 105

Marsaba, a devil who swallows lads at initiation, ii. 246

Marseilles, drenching people with water at Midsummer in, i. 193;
  Midsummer king of the double-axe at, 194;
  the Yule log at, 250;
  Midsummer flowers at, ii. 46

Marshall Islands, belief in the external soul in the, ii. 200

Marsi, the ancient, i. 209

Martin of Urzedow, i. 177

Martin, M., on _dessil_ (_deiseal_), i. 151 _n._;
  on need-fire, 289

Marwaris, of India, Holi festival among the, ii. 2 _sq._

Marxberg, the, on the Moselle, i. 118

Masai, peace-making ceremony among the, ii. 139 _n._

Mask, not to wear a, i. 4

Masked dances, bull-roarers used at, ii. 230 _n._

Masks worn by girls at puberty, i. 31, 52;
  worn at Duk-duk ceremonies in New Britain, ii. 247;
  worn by members of a secret society, 270, 271

Masquerade of boys among the Lengua Indians, i. 57 _n._ 1

Masuren, a district of Eastern Prussia, Midsummer fire kindled by the
            revolution of a wheel at, i. 177, 335 _sq._;
  divination by flowers on Midsummer Eve in, ii. 52, 53;
  divination by orpine at Midsummer in, 61;
  camomile gathered at Midsummer in, 63;
  fire kindled by friction of oak at Midsummer in, 91

Matabeles fumigate their gardens, i. 337

Matacos, Indian tribe of the Gran Chaco, their custom of secluding girls
            at puberty, i. 58

Mataguayos, Indian tribe of the Gran Chaco, their custom of secluding
            girls at puberty, i. 58

Matthes, B. F., on sympathetic relation between man and animal, ii. 197
            _n._ 4

Mauhes, Indians of Brazil, seclusion of girls at puberty among the, i. 59;
  ordeal of young men among the, 62

Maundy Thursday, i. 125 _n._ 1

Maurer, Konrad, on Icelandic story of the external soul, ii. 125 _n._ 1

May Day in the Isle of Man, i. 157;
  sheep burnt as a sacrifice on, 306;
  witches active on, ii. 19, 184 _n._ 4, 185

——, Eve of, Snake Stones thought to be formed on, i. 15;
  a witching time, 295;
  witches active on, ii. 73

May-tree carried about, i. 120, ii. 22

Mayo, County, story of Guleesh in, i. 228

M’Bengas of the Gaboon, birth-trees among the, ii. 160

Mbengga, in Fiji, the fire-walk in, ii. 10 _sq._

Meakin, Budgett, on Midsummer fires in Morocco, i. 214 _n._

Meath, County, Hill of Ward in, i. 139;
  Uisnech in, 158

Meaux, Midsummer bonfires in the diocese of, i. 182

Mecklenburg, need-fire in, i. 274 _sq._;
  simples gathered at Midsummer in, ii. 48;
  mugwort at Midsummer in, 60;
  the divining-rod in, 67;
  treatment of the afterbirth in, 165;
  children passed through a cleft oak as a cure in, 171 _sq._;
  custom of striking blindfold at a half-buried cock in, 279 _n._ 4

Medicine-bag, instrument of pretended death and resurrection at
            initiation, ii. 268 _sq._

—— -man in Australia, initiation of, ii. 237 _sqq._

Megara besieged by Minos, ii. 103

Meinersen, in Hanover, i. 275

Meissen or Thuringia, horse’s head thrown into Midsummer fire in, ii. 40

Melanesian conception of the external soul, ii. 197 _sqq._

—— and Papuan stocks in New Guinea, ii. 239

Meleager and the firebrand, story of, ii. 103;
  and the olive-leaf, 103 _n._ 2

Melur, in the Neilgherry Hills, the fire-walk at, ii. 8 _sq._

Men disguised as women, i. 107

—— and women eat apart, i. 81

_Mên-an-tol_, “holed stone” in Cornwall, ii. 187

Menomini Indians, ritual of death and resurrection among the, ii. 268 _n._
            1

Menstruation, seclusion of girls at the first, i. 22 _sqq._;
  the first, attributed to defloration by a spirit, 24;
  reasons for secluding women at, 97

Menstruous blood, the dread of, i. 76.
  _See also_ Blood

—— energy, beneficent applications of, i. 98 _n._ 1

—— fluid, medicinal applications of the, i. 98 _n._ 1

Menstruous women keep their heads or faces covered, i. 22, 24, 25, 29, 31,
            44 _sq._, 48 _sq._, 55, 90, 92;
  not allowed to cross or bathe in rivers, 77;
  not allowed to go near water, 77;
  supposed to spoil fisheries, 77, 78, 90 _sq._, 93;
  painted red, or red and white, 78;
  not allowed to use the ordinary paths, 78, 80, 84, 89, 90;
  not allowed to approach the sea, 79;
  not allowed to enter cultivated fields, 79;
  obliged to occupy special huts, 79, 82, 85 _sqq._;
  supposed to spoil crops, 79, 96;
  not allowed to cook, 80, 82, 84, 90;
  not allowed to drink milk, 80, 84;
  not allowed to handle salt, 81 _sq._, 84;
  kept from wells, 81, 82, 97;
  obliged to use separate doors, 84;
  not allowed to lie on high beds, 84;
  not allowed to touch or see fire, 84, 85;
  not allowed to cross the tracks of animals, 84, 91, 93;
  excluded from religious ceremonies, 85;
  not allowed to eat with men, 85, 90;
  thought to spoil the luck of hunters, 87, 89, 90, 91, 94;
  not allowed to ride horses, 88 _sq._, 96;
  not allowed to walk on ice of rivers and lakes, 90;
  dangers to which they are thought to be exposed, 94;
  not allowed to touch beer, wine or vinegar, 96;
  not allowed to salt or pickle meat, 96 _n._ 2;
  not allowed to cross running streams, 97;
  not allowed to draw water at wells, 97;
  used to protect fields against insects, 98 _n._ 1
  dreaded and secluded in Australia, i. 76 _sqq._,
  in the Torres Straits Islands, 78 _sq._,
  in New Guinea, 79,
  in Galela, 79,
  in Sumatra, 79,
  in Africa, 79 _sqq._,
  among the Jews and in Syria, 83 _sq._,
  in India, 84 _sq._,
  in Annam, 85,
  in America, 85 _sqq._

Mequinez, Midsummer custom at, i. 216

Merolla, J., on seclusion of girls at puberty, i. 31 _n._ 3

Merrakech, in Morocco, Midsummer custom at, i. 216;
  New Year fires at, 217

Mesopotamia, Atrae in, i. 82

Mespelaer, St. Peter’s fires at, i. 195

Messaria, in Cythnos, ii. 189

Metz, F., on the fire-walk, ii. 9

Metz, cats burnt alive in Midsummer fire at, ii. 39

Mexican ceremony of new fire, i. 132

—— representation of the sun as a wheel, i. 334 _n._ 1

Mexico, effigies of Judas burnt at Easter in, i. 127 _sq._;
  the Zapotecs of, ii. 212

Michael, in the Isle of Man, i. 307

Michaelmas, cakes baked at, i. 149.
  _See also_ St. Michael

Michemis, a Tibetan tribe, a funeral ceremony among the, i. 5

Middle Ages, the Yule log in the, i. 252;
  the need-fire in the, 270

Midsummer, wells crowned with flowers at, ii. 28;
  bathing at, 29 _sq._;
  sacred to Balder, 87.
  _See also_ St. John’s Day

—— bonfire called “fire of heaven,” i. 334;
  intended to drive away dragons, 161

“—— Brooms” in Sweden, ii. 54

—— Day, charm for fig-trees on, i. 18;
  water claims human victims on, 26 _sqq._;
  in ancient Rome, 178;
  regarded as unlucky, ii. 29

—— Eve, Snake Stones thought to be formed on, i. 15;
  Trolls and evil spirits abroad on, 172;
  witches active on, ii. 19;
  the season for gathering wonderful herbs and flowers, 45 _sqq._;
  the magic flowers of, 45 _sqq._;
  divination on, 46 _n._ 3, 50, 52 _sqq._, 61, 64, 67 _sqq._;
  dreams of love on, 52, 54;
  fernseed blooms at, 65, 287;
  the divining-rod cut at, 67 _sqq._;
  activity of witches and warlocks on, 73 _sqq._;
  treasures bloom in the earth on, 288 _n._ 5;
  the oak thought to bloom on, 292, 293

—— festival common to peoples on both sides of the Mediterranean, i. 219,
            ii. 31;
  the most important of the year among the primitive Aryans of Europe, 40;
  its relation to Druidism, 45

—— fires, i. 160 _sqq._;
  in Wales, 156

—— flowers and plants used as talismans against witchcraft, ii. 72

—— Men, orpine, ii. 61

—— mummers clad in green fir branches, ii. 25 _sq._

Midwinter fires, i. 246 _sqq._

Mijatovich, Chedo, on the _Zadrooga_ or Servian house-community, i. 259
            _n._ 1

Mikado not allowed to set foot on ground, i. 2 _sq._;
  the sun not allowed to shine on him, 18 _sq._

Milk, girls at puberty forbidden to drink, i. 22, 30;
  libations of, 30;
  not to be drunk by menstruous women, 80, 84;
  stolen by witches from cows, 176, 343, ii. 74;
  omens drawn from boiling, 8;
  libations of, poured on fire, 8, 9;
  libations of, poured into a stream, 9;
  poured on sick cattle, 13

—— and butter thought to be improved by the Midsummer fires, i. 180;
  stolen by witches at Midsummer, 185;
  witchcraft fatal to, ii. 86

—— -tie as a bond of kinship, ii. 138 _n._ 1

—— -vessels not to be touched by menstruous women, i. 80

Milking cows through a hole in a branch or a “witch’s nest,” ii. 185

Millaeus on judicial torture, ii. 158

Miller’s wife a witch, story of the, i. 319 _sq._

Miming, a satyr of the woods, i. 103

Minahassa, in Celebes, ceremony at a house-warming in, ii. 153

Minangkabauers of Sumatra, their belief as to menstruous women, i. 79;
  use of bull-roarers among the, ii. 229 _n._

Minos, king of Crete, besieges Megara, ii. 103

Mint, flowers of, gathered on St. John’s Day, ii. 51

Mirzapur, the Bhuiyars of, i. 84

Misfortune burnt in Midsummer fires, i. 215;
  got rid of by leaping over Midsummer fires, 215

Missel-thrush and mistletoe, ii. 316

“Mist-healing,” Swiss expression for kindling a need-fire, i. 279

Mistletoe, the divining-rod made of, ii. 69, 291;
  worshipped by the Druids, 76 _sq._, 301;
  cut on the sixth day of the moon, 77;
  makes barren animals and women to bring forth, 77, 78, 79;
  cut with a golden sickle, 77, 80;
  thought to have fallen from the sky, 77, 80;
  called the “all-healer,” 77, 79, 82;
  an antidote to all poison, 77, 83;
  gathered on the first day of the moon, 78;
  not to touch the earth, 78, 80;
  a cure for epilepsy, 78, 83, 84;
  extinguishes fire, 78, 84 _sq._, 293;
  venerated by the Ainos of Japan, 79;
  growing on willow specially efficacious, 79;
  confers invulnerability, 79 _sq._;
  its position as a parasite on a tree the source of superstitions about
              it, 80, 81, 84;
  not to be cut but shot or knocked down with stones, 81 _sq._;
  in the folk-lore of modern European peasants, 81 _sqq._;
  medical virtues ascribed to, 82 _sqq._;
  these virtues a pure superstition, 84;
  cut when the sun is in Sagittarius, 82, 86;
  growing on oak a panacea for green wounds, 83;
  mystic qualities ascribed to mistletoe at Midsummer (St. John’s Day or
              Eve), 83, 86;
  cut at the full moon of March, 84, 86;
  called “thunder-besom” in Aargau, 85, 301;
  a masterkey to open all locks, 85;
  a protection against witchcraft, 85 _sq._;
  given to first cow that calves after New Year, 86;
  gathered especially at Midsummer, 86 _sq._;
  grows on oaks in Sweden, 87;
  ancient Italian belief that mistletoe could be destroyed neither by fire
              nor water, 94;
  Balder’s life or death in the, 279, 283;
  life of oak in, 280;
  not allowed to touch the ground, 280;
  a protection against witchcraft and Trolls, 282, 283, 294;
  a protection against fairy changelings, 283;
  hung over doors of stables and byres in Brittany, 287; thought to
              disclose treasures in the earth, 287, 291 _sq._;
  gathered at the solstices, Midsummer and Christmas, 291 _sqq._;
  traditional privilege of, 291 _n._ 2;
  growing on a hazel, 291 _n._ 3;
  growing on a thorn, 291 _n._ 3;
  life of the oak conceived to be in the, 292;
  perhaps conceived as a germ or seed of fire, 292;
  sanctity of mistletoe perhaps explained by the belief that the plant has
              fallen on the tree in a flash of lightning, 301;
  two species of, _Viscum album_ and _Loranthus europaeus_, 315 _sqq._;
  found most commonly on apple-trees, 315, compare 316 _n._ 5;
  growing on oaks in England, 316;
  seeds of, deposited by missel-thrush, 316;
  ancient names of, 317 _sq._;
  Virgil on, 318 _sqq._;
  Dutch names for, 319 _n._ 1

Mistletoe and Balder, i. 101 _sq._, ii. 76 _sqq._, 302

—— and the Golden Bough, ii. 315 _sqq._

Mitchell, Sir Arthur, on a barbarous cure for murrain, i. 326

Mithr, Armenian fire-god, i. 131 _n._ 3

Mithraic mysteries, initiation into the, ii. 277

_Mizimu_, spirits of the dead, ii. 312

Mlanje, in British Central Africa, ii. 314

Mnasara tribe of Morocco, i. 214

Mogk, Professor Eugen, i. 330

Mohammedan calendar lunar, i. 216 _sq._, 218 _sq._

—— New Year festival in North Africa, i. 217 _sq._

—— peoples of North Africa, Midsummer fires among the, i. 213 _sqq._

Moharram, first Mohammedan month, i. 217

Moles and field-mice driven away by torches, i. 115, ii. 340

Molsheim in Baden, i. 117

Mondays, witches dreaded on, ii. 73

Mongolian story, milk-tie in a, i. 138 _n._ 1;
  the external soul in a, ii. 143 _sq._

Monster supposed to swallow and disgorge novices at initiation, ii. 240
            _sq._, 242

Mont des Fourches, in the Vosges, i. 318

Montaigne on ceremonial extinction of fires, i. 135 _n._ 2

Montanus, on the Yule log, i. 248

Montenegro, the Yule log in, i. 263

Montezuma not allowed to set foot on ground, i. 2

Montols of Northern Nigeria, their belief in their sympathetic relation to
            snakes, ii. 209 _sq._

Moon, impregnation of women by the, i. 75 _sq._;
  the sixth day of the, mistletoe cut on, 77;
  the first day of the, mistletoe gathered on, 78;
  the full, transformation of were-wolves at, 314 _n._ 1

Mooney, James, on Cherokee ideas as to trees struck by lightning, ii. 296

Moore, _Manx Surnames,_ quoted by Sir John Rhys, i. 306

Moors, their superstition as to the “sultan of the oleander,” i. 18

Moosheim, in Wurtemberg, leaf-clad mummer at, ii. 26

Moravia, fires to burn the witches in, i. 160;
  Midsummer fires in, 175;
  the divining-rod in, ii. 67

Moravians cull simples at Midsummer, ii. 49, 54

Moray, remedy for a murrain in the county of, i. 326

Morayshire, medical use of mistletoe in, ii. 84

Morbihan in Brittany, ii. 287

Moresin, Thomas, on St. Peter’s fires in Scotland, i. 207

Morice, Father A. G., on customs and beliefs of the Carrier Indians as to
            menstruous women, i. 91 _sqq._;
  on the honorific totems of the Carrier Indians, ii. 273 _sqq._

Morlaks, the Yule log among the, i. 264

Morlanwelz, bonfires at, i. 107

Morning star, the rising of the, i. 40, 133

Morocco, magical virtue ascribed to rain-water in, i. 17 _sq._;
  Midsummer fires in, 213 _sqq._;
  water thought to acquire marvellous virtue at Midsummer in, ii. 30
              _sq._;
  magical plants gathered at Midsummer in, 51

Morven, i. 290;
  consumptive people passed through rifted rocks in, ii. 186 _sq._

Moscow, annual new fire in villages near, i. 139

Moselle, bonfires on the, i. 109;
  Konz on the, 118, 163 _sq._

Moses on the uncleanness of women at menstruation, i. 95 _sq._

Mosquito territory, Central America, seclusion of menstruous women in the,
            i. 86

Mota, in the New Hebrides, conception of the external soul in, ii. 197
            _sq._

Motherwort, garlands of, at Midsummer, i. 162

Moulin, parish of, in Perthshire, Hallowe’en fires in, i. 230

Moulton, Professor J. H., on the etymology of Soranus, ii. 15 _n._ 1

Mountain arnica gathered at Midsummer, ii. 57 _sq._;
  a protection against thunder, lightning, hail, and conflagration, 58

Mountain-ash, parasitic, used to make the divining rod, ii. 69;
  mistletoe on, 315.
  _See also_ Rowan

—— scaur, external soul in, ii. 156

Mourne Mountains, i. 159

Mourners tabooed, i. 20;
  step over fire after funeral in China, ii. 17;
  purified by fire, 17, 18 _sq._;
  customs observed by, among the Bella Coola Indians, 174

Mourning, the great, for Isfendiyar, i. 105

Mouse-ear hawkweed (_Hieracium pilosella_) gathered at Midsummer, ii. 57

Movement of thought from magic through religion to science, ii. 304 _sq._

Mugwort (_Artemisia vulgaris_), wreaths of, at Midsummer, i. 163, 165,
            174;
  a preventive of sore eyes, 174;
  a preservative against witchcraft, 177;
  a protection against thunder, ghosts, magic, and witchcraft, ii. 59
              _sq._;
  gathered on Midsummer Day or Eve, ii. 58 _sqq._;
  thrown into the Midsummer fires, 59;
  used in exorcism, 60

Mull, the need-fire in, i. 148, 289 _sq._;
  the Beltane cake in, 149;
  remedy for cattle-disease in, 325;
  consumptive people passed through rifted rocks in, ii. 186 _sq._

Mullein, sprigs of, passed across Midsummer fires protect cattle against
            sickness and sorcery, i. 190;
  bunches of, passed across Midsummer fires and fastened on cattle-shed,
              191;
  yellow (_Verbascum_), gathered at Midsummer, ii. 63 _sq._;
  yellow hoary (_Verbascum pulverulentum_), its golden pyramid of blooms,
              64;
  great (_Verbascum thapsus_), called King’s Candle or High Taper, 64

Mummers at Hallowe’en in the Isle of Man, i. 224

Munster, the King of, i. 139;
  Midsummer fires in, 203

Münsterberg, precautions against witches in, ii. 20 _n._

Münsterland, Easter fires in, i. 141;
  the Yule log in, 247

Muralug, dread of women at menstruation in, i. 78

Murderer, fire of oak-wood used to detect a, ii. 92 _n._ 4

Murrain, need-fire kindled as a remedy for, i. 278, 282, 290 _sqq._;
  burnt sacrifices to stay a, in England, Wales, and Scotland, 300 _sqq._;
  calf burnt alive to stop a, 300 _sq._;
  cattle buried to stop a, 326.
  _See also_ Cattle disease

Murray, the country of, i. 154 _n._ 1

Murray River, in Australia, ii. 233;
  natives of, their dread of menstruous women, i. 77

Muskau, in Lausitz, marriage oaks at, ii. 165

Myrtle-trees of the Patricians and Plebeians at Rome, ii. 168

Myths dramatized in ritual, i. 105

Na Ivilankata, a Fijian clan, ii. 10

Nagas of North-Eastern India, their ceremony of the new fire, i. 136

_Nagual_, external soul, among the Indians of Guatemala and Honduras, ii.
            212 _sqq._, 220, 226 _n._ 1

Nahuqua Indians of Brazil, their use of bull-roarers, ii. 230

Names on chimney-piece, divination by, i. 237;
  of savages kept secret, ii. 224 _n._ 2;
  new, taken by novices after initiation, 259

Namoluk, one of the Caroline Islands, traditionary origin of fire in, ii.
            295

Namuci and Indra, legend of, ii. 280

Namur, Lenten fires in, i. 108

Nandi, the, of British East Africa, their custom of driving sick cattle
            round a fire, ii. 13;
  use of bull-roarers among the, 229 _n._

_Nanga_, sacred enclosure in Fiji, ii. 243, 244

Nanna, the wife of Balder, i. 102, 103

Nanny, a Yorkshire witch, i. 317

Naples, feast of the Nativity of the Virgin at, i. 220 _sq._

Narrow openings, creeping through, in order to escape ghostly pursuers,
            ii. 177 _sqq._

Nathuram, image supposed to make women fruitful, ii. 3

Nativity of the Virgin, feast of the, i. 220 _sq._

Naudowessies, Indian tribe of North America, ritual of death and
            resurrection among the, ii. 267

_Naueld_, need-fire, i. 280

Nauru, in the Marshall Islands, lives of people bound up with a fish in,
            ii. 200

Navajoes, their story of the external soul, ii. 151 _sq._;
  use of bull-roarers among the, 230 _n._, 231

Navel-string buried under a plant or tree, ii. 160 _sq._, 161, 163;
  regarded as brother or sister of child, 162 _n._ 2

_Ndembo_, secret society on the Lower Congo, ii. 251 _sqq._

Ndolo, on the Moeko River, West Africa, ii. 200

Neckar, the river, requires three human victims at Midsummer, ii. 26;
  loaf thrown into the river, 28

Necklace, girl’s soul in a, ii. 99 _sq._

Need-fire, i. 269 _sqq._;
  kindled as a remedy for cattle-plague, 270 _sqq._, 343;
  cattle driven through the, 270 _sqq._;
  derivation of the name, 270 _n._;
  kindled by the friction of a wheel, 270, 273, 289 _sq._, 292;
  kindled with oak-wood, 271, 272, 275, 276, 278, 281, 289 _sq._, 294;
  called “wild-fire,” 272, 273, 277;
  kindled by fir-wood, 278, 282;
  kindled as a remedy for witchcraft, 280, 292 _sq._, 293, 295;
  called “living fire,” 281, 286;
  healing virtue ascribed to, 281, 286;
  kindled by lime-wood, 281, 283, 286;
  kindled by poplar-wood, 282;
  regarded as a barrier interposed between cattle and an evil spirit, 282,
              285 _sq._;
  kindled by cornel-tree wood, 286;
  revealed by an angel from heaven, 287;
  used to heat water, 289;
  kindled on an island, 290 _sq._, 291 _sq._;
  kindled by birch-wood, 291;
  kindled between two running streams, 292;
  kindled to prevent fever, 297;
  probable antiquity of the, 297 _sq._;
  kindled by elm-wood, 299;
  the parent of the periodic fire-festivals, 299, 343;
  used by Slavonic peoples to combat vampyres, 344;
  sometimes kindled by the friction of fir, plane, birch, lime, poplar,
              cornel-wood, ii. 91 _n._ 1

Need-fire, John Ramsay’s account of, i. 147 _sq._;
  Lindenbrog on, 335 _n._ 1

Negro children pale at birth, ii. 251 _n._ 1, 259 _n._ 2

Neil, R. A., on Gaelic name for mistletoe, ii. 82 _n._ 5

Neilgherry Hills, the Badagas of the, ii. 8 _sq._;
  the Todas of the, i. 136

Neisse, precautions against witches in, ii. 20 _n._

Nellingen in Lorraine, simples gathered on Midsummer Day at, ii. 47

Nemi, the King of the Wood at, i. 2;
  the Lake of, annual tragedy enacted at, ii. 286;
  sacramental bread at, 286 _n._ 2;
  Virbius at, 295; at evening, 308 _sq._;
  sacred grove of, 315;
  priests of Diana at, 315

Nerthus, old German goddess, ii. 28 _n._ 1

_Nestelknüpfen_, i. 346 _n._ 2

Nets fumigated with smoke of need-fire, i. 280

Nettles, Indians beaten with, as an ordeal, i. 64

Neuchatel, Midsummer fires in the canton of, i. 172

Neumann, J. B., on the Batta doctrine of souls, ii. 223 _n._ 2

Neustadt, in Silesia, Midsummer fires at, i. 170;
  near Marburg, the need-fire at, 270

New birth of novices at initiation, ii. 247, 251, 256, 257, 261, 262 _sq._

—— body obtained at initiation, ii. 252

—— Britain, the Duk-duk society of i. 11, ii. 246 _sq._

—— fire kindled on Easter Saturday, i. 121 _sqq._;
  made at the New Year, 134 _sq._, 138, 140;
  made by the friction of wood at Christmas, 264

—— Guinea, British, festival of wild mango in, i. 7;
  custom observed after childbirth in, 20;
  seclusion of girls at puberty in, 35;
  dread and seclusion of women at menstruation in, 79;
  the Toaripi of, 84;
  use of bull-roarers in, ii. 228 _n._ 2

—— Guinea, German, the Kai of, ii. 182;
  ceremony of initiation in, 193;
  the Yabim of, 232;
  rites of initiation in, 239 _sqq._

—— Hebrides, conception of the external soul in the, ii. 197 _sqq._

—— Ireland, seclusion of girls at puberty in, i. 32 _sqq._;
  Duk-duk society in, ii. 247

—— Mexico, the Zuni Indians of, i. 132;
  and Arizona, use of bull-roarers in, ii. 230 _n._, 231

—— South Wales, dread of women at menstruation in, i. 78;
  the Wongh tribe of, ii. 227;
  the drama of resurrection at initiation in, 235 _sqq._

—— water at Easter, i. 123

—— World, Easter ceremonies in the, i. 127 _sq._;
  magical virtue of plants at Midsummer in the, ii. 50 _sq._

—— Year, new fire made at the, i. 134 _sq._, 138, 140;
  festival of Mohammedans in North Africa, 217 _sq._;
  the Celtic, on November first, 224 _sq._;
  the Fijian, Tahitian, and Hawaiian, ii. 244

Newstead, Byron’s oak at, ii. 166

_Nganga_, “the Knowing Ones,” initiates, ii. 251

_Ngarong_, secret helper, of the Ibans of Borneo, ii. 224 _n._ 1

Nguu, district of German East Africa, ii. 312

Nias, story of the external soul told in the island of, ii. 148;
  ceremonies performed by candidates for the priesthood in, 173 _sq._

Niceros and the were-wolf, story of, i. 313 _sq._

Nidugala, in the Neilgherry Hills, the fire-walk at, ii. 8

Nieder-Lausitz, the Midsummer log in, ii. 92 _n._ 1

Niederehe, in the Eifel Mountains, Midsummer flowers at, ii. 48

Niger, belief as to external human souls lodged in animals on the, ii. 209

Nigeria, the Ibo of Southern, i. 4;
  theory of the external soul in, ii. 200, 203, _sqq._

Nigerian, South, story of the external soul, ii. 150

Night-jars, the lives of women in, ii. 215;
  called women’s “sisters,” 216

Nikclerith, Neane, buries cow alive, i. 324 _sq._

Nile, the Alur of the Upper, i. 64

Nine, ruptured child passed nine times on nine successive mornings through
            a cleft ash-tree and attended by nine persons, ii. 170

—— bonfires on Midsummer Eve an omen of marriage, i. 174, 185, 189, 339

—— different kinds of wood burnt in the Beltane fires, i. 155;
  used for the Midsummer bonfires, 172, 201;
  burnt in the need-fire, 271, 278;
  used to kindle need-fire, 278, 280

—— grains of oats in divination, i. 243

—— leaps over Midsummer fire, i. 193

—— men employed to make fire by the friction of wood, i. 148, 155

—— ridges of ploughed land in divination, i. 235

—— sorts of flowers on Midsummer Eve, to dream on, i. 175;
  gathered, ii. 52 _sq._

—— times to crawl under a bramble as a cure, ii. 180

—— times nine men make need-fire, i. 289, 294, 295

—— (thrice three) times passed through a girth of woodbine, ii. 184;
  passed through a holed stone, 187

—— turns round a rick, i. 243

Niska Indians of British Columbia, rites of initiation among the, ii. 271
            _sq._

Nisus and his purple or golden hair, story of, ii. 103

_Nkimba_, secret society on the Lower Congo, ii. 255 _n._ 1

Nocturnal creatures the sex totems of men and women, ii. 217 _n._ 4

Nograd-Ludany, in Hungary, Midsummer fires at, i. 179

Noguès, J. L. M., on the wonderful herbs of St. John’s Eve, ii. 45

Nootka Indians of Vancouver Island, seclusion of girls at puberty among
            the, i. 43 _sq._;
  ritual of death and resurrection among the, ii. 270 _sq._

Nord, the department of, giants at Shrove Tuesday in, ii. 35

Norden, E., on the Golden Bough, ii. 284 _n._ 3

Nore, A. de, on the Yule log, i. 250 _sq._, 253

Norfolk, use of orpine for divination in, ii. 61 _n._ 4

Norman peasants gather seven kinds of plants on St. John’s Day, ii. 51
            _sq._

Normandy, Midsummer fires in, i. 185 _sq._;
  the Yule log in, 252;
  torch-light processions on Christmas Eve in, 266;
  processions with torches on the Eve of Twelfth Day, in, 340;
  wonderful herbs and flowers gathered at Midsummer in, ii, 46;
  wreaths of mugwort in, 59;
  vervain gathered at Midsummer in, 62

Norrland, Midsummer bonfires in, i. 172

Norse stories of the external soul, ii. 119 _sq._

North American Indians, their personal totems, ii. 222 _n._ 5, 226 _n._ 1

—— Berwick, Satan preaches at, ii. 158

Northamptonshire, sacrifice of a calf in, i. 300

Northumberland, Midsummer fires in, i. 197 _sq._;
  divination at Hallowe’en in, 245;
  the Yule log in, 256;
  need-fire in, 288 _sq._;
  ox burnt alive in, to stop a murrain, 301

Norway, bonfires on Midsummer Eve in, i. 171;
  the need-fire in, 280;
  superstitions about a parasitic rowan in, ii. 281

Norwich, Easter candle in the cathedral of, i. 122 _n._

Nottinghamshire, the Hemlock Stone in, i. 157

_Nouer l’aiguilette_, i. 346 _n._ 2

Nouzon, in the Ardennes, the Yule log at, i. 253

November the first, old New Year’s Day in the Isle of Man, i. 224 _sq._;
  the first of, All Saints’ Day, 225

Novice at initiation killed as a man and brought to life as an animal, ii.
            272

Novices (lads) at initiation supposed to be swallowed and disgorged by a
            spirit or monster, ii. 235, 240 _sq._, 242, 246;
  supposed to be newly born, 247, 251, 256, 257, 261, 262 _sq._;
  begotten anew, 248

_Nurtunjas_, sacred poles among the Arunta, ii. 219

Nut-water brewed at Midsummer, ii. 47

Nuts passed across Midsummer fires, i. 190;
  in fire, divination by, 237, 239, 241, 242, 245

Nyanja chief, ii. 314

Nyanja-speaking tribes of Angoniland, their customs as to girls at
            puberty, i. 25 _sq._

Nyassa, Lake, i. 28, 81;
  people to the east of, crawl through an arch as a precaution against
              sickness, evil spirits, etc., ii. 181

Oak associated with thunder, i. 145;
  worshipped by the Druids, ii. 76 _sq._, 301;
  the principal sacred tree of the Aryans, 89 _sq._;
  human representatives of the oak perhaps originally burnt at the
              fire-festivals, 90, 92 _sq._;
  children passed through a cleft oak as a cure for rupture or rickets,
              170 _sqq._;
  life of, in mistletoe, 280, 292;
  struck by lightning oftener than any other tree of the European forest,
              298 _sqq._;
  supposed to bloom on Midsummer Eve, 292, 293

—— and thunder, Aryan god of the, i. 265

—— -leaves, “oil of St. John” found on St. John’s Morning upon, ii. 82
            _sq._

—— log a protection against witchcraft, ii. 92

—— -mistletoe an “all-healer” or panacea, ii. 77, 79, 82;
  a remedy for epilepsy, 78, 83;
  to be shot down with an arrow, 82;
  a panacea for green wounds, 83;
  a protection against conflagration, 85, 293

—— of Errol, fate of the Hays bound up with the, ii. 283 _sq._

—— of the Guelphs, ii. 166 _sq._

—— of Romove, ii. 286

—— of the Vespasian family at Rome, ii. 168

—— planted by Byron, ii. 166

—— -spirit, the priest of the Arician grove a personification of an, ii.
            285

—— tree worshipped by the Cheremiss, i. 181

—— -trees planted at marriage, ii. 165

—— twigs and leaves used to keep off witches, ii. 20

—— -wood used to kindle the need-fire, i. 148, 271, 272, 275, 276, 278,
            281, 289 _sq._, ii. 90 _sq._;
  used to kindle the Beltane fires, i. 148, 155;
  used to kindle Midsummer fire, 169, 177, ii. 91 _sq._;
  used for the Yule log, i. 248, 250, 251, 257, 258, 259, 260, 263, 264
              _sq._, ii. 92;
  fire of, used to detect a murderer, 92 _n._ 4;
  perpetual fires of, 285 _sq._

Oaks planted by Sir Walter Scott, ii. 166;
  mistletoe growing on, in Sweden, 87;
  mistletoe growing on, in England and France, 316

Oath not to hurt Balder, i. 101

Oats, nine grains of, in divination, i. 243

Oban district, Southern Nigeria, belief as to external human souls lodged
            in animals in the, ii. 206 _sqq._

Oberland, in Central Germany, the Yule log in the, i. 248 _sq._

Obermedlingen, in Swabia, fire kindled on St. Vitus’s Day at, i. 335 _sq._

Obubura district of S. Nigeria, ii. 204

October, ceremony of the new fire in, i. 136;
  the last day of (Hallowe’en), 139

Odessa, New Easter fire carried to, i. 130 _n._

Odin, Othin, or Woden, the father of Balder, i. 101, 102, 103 _n._

Ododop tribe of Southern Nigeria, ii. 208

Oels, in Silesia, Midsummer fires at, i. 170

Oeniadae, the ancient, i. 21

Oesel, Midsummer fires in the island of, i. 180;
  St. John’s herbs in the island of, ii. 49

Offenburg, in the Black Forest, Midsummer fires at, i. 168

Ogboni, a secret society on the Slave Coast, ii. 229 _n._

Ogre whose soul was in a bird, story of the, ii. 98 _sq._

“Oil of St. John” found on St. John’s morning, ii. 82 _sq._;
  on oaks at Midsummer, 293

Oise, French department of, dolmen in, ii. 188

Ojebways, ritual of death and resurrection among the, ii. 268

Olala, secret society of the Niska Indians, ii. 271 _sq._

Olaus Magnus, on were-wolves, i. 308

“Old Wife” (“Old Woman”), burning the, i. 116, 120

Oldenburg, the immortal dame of, i. 100;
  Shrove Tuesday customs in, 120;
  Easter bonfires in, 140;
  burning or boiling portions of animals or things to force witch to
              appear in, 321 _sq._;
  witch as toad in, 323;
  children passed through a cleft oak as a cure in, ii. 171 _sq._;
  custom as to milking cows in, 185;
  sick children passed through a ring of yarn in, 185

_Olea chrysophilla_, used as fuel for bonfire, ii. 11

“Oleander, the Sultan of the,” i. 18, ii. 51;
  gathered at Midsummer, 51

Olive, the sacred, at Olympia, ii. 80 _n._ 3

Olofaet, a fire-god, ii. 295

Olympia, the sacred olive at, ii. 80 _n._ 3;
  white poplar used for sacrifices to Zeus at, 90 _n._ 1, 91 _n._ 7

Omaha tribe, Elk clan of the, i. 11

—— women secluded at menstruation, i. 88 _sq._

Omens from birds and beasts, i. 56;
  from the smoke of bonfires, 116, 131, 337;
  from flames of bonfires, 140, 142, 159, 165, 336, 337;
  from cakes rolled down hill, 153;
  from boiling milk, ii. 8;
  from intestines of sheep, 13

—— of death, ii. 54, 64

—— of marriage drawn from Midsummer bonfires, i. 168, 174, 178, 185, 189,
            339;
  drawn from bonfires, 338 _sq._;
  from flowers, ii. 52 _sq._, 61

Onktehi, the great spirit of the waters among the Dacotas, ii. 268, 269

Oran, bathing at Midsummer in, i. 216

Orange River, the Corannas of the, ii. 192

Oraons or Uraons of Bengal, their belief as to the transformation of
            witches into cats, ii. 311 _sq._

Ordeal of stinging ants undergone by girls at puberty, i. 61, and by young
            men, 62 _sqq._;
  of boiling resin, 311

Ordeals as an exorcism, i. 66;
  undergone by novices at initiation among the Bushongo, ii. 264 _sqq._

Order of nature, different views of the, postulated by magic and science,
            ii. 305 _sq._

Organs, internal, of medicine-man replaced by a new set at initiation, ii.
            237, 238 _sq._

Origin of fire, primitive ideas as to the, ii. 295 _sq._

Orinoco, the Banivas of the, i. 66;
  the Guaraunos of the, 85; the Guayquiries of the, 85;
  the Tamanaks of the, 61 _n._ 3

Ornament, external soul of woman in an ivory, ii. 156

Ornaments, amulets degenerate into, ii. 156 _n._ 2

Orne, Midsummer fires in the valley of the, i. 185

Oro, West African bogey, ii. 229

Orpheus and the willow, ii. 294

Orpine (_Sedum telephium_) at Midsummer, i. 196;
  used in divination at Midsummer, ii. 61

Orvieto, Midsummer fires at, i. 210

Oster-Kappeln, in Hanover, the oak of the Guelphs at, ii. 166 _sq._

Osterode, Easter bonfires at, i. 142

Ot Danoms of Borneo, seclusion of girls at puberty among the, i. 35 _sq._

Otati tribe of Queensland, their treatment of girls at puberty, i. 38

Ovambo, of German South-West Africa, custom observed by young women at
            puberty among the, ii. 183

Owls, lives of persons bound up with those of, ii. 202;
  sex totem of women, 217;
  called women’s “sisters,” 218

Ox burnt alive to stop a murrain, i. 301

—— -horns, external soul of chief in pair of, ii. 156

Ozieri, in Sardinia, bonfires on St. John’s Eve at, i. 209

Padua, story of a were-wolf in, i. 309

Paha, on the Gold Coast, ii. 210

Pale colour of negro children at birth, ii. 251 _n._ 1, 259 _n._ 2

Palettes or plaques of schist in Egyptian tombs, ii. 155 _n._ 3

Palm-branches, consecrated, at Easter, i. 121

—— Sunday, palm-branches consecrated on, i. 144, ii. 30, 85 _n._ 4;
  boxwood blessed on, i. 184, ii. 47;
  fern-seed used on, 288

—— -trees as life-indices, ii. 161, 163, 164

Papuan and Melanesian stocks in New Guinea, ii. 239

Papuans, life-trees among the, ii. 163

Paraguay, the Chiquites Indians of, ii. 226 _n._ 1

Parallelism between witches and were-wolves, i. 315, 321

Parasitic mountain-ash (rowan) used to make the divining-rod, ii. 69

—— orchid growing on a tamarind, ritual at cutting, ii. 81

—— rowan, superstitions about a, ii. 281 _sq._

Paris, effigy of giant burnt in summer fire at, ii. 38;
  cats burnt alive at Midsummer in, 39

Parivarams of Madura, their seclusion of girls at puberty, i. 69

Parrot, external soul of warlock in a, ii. 97 _sq._

—— and Punchkin, story of the, ii. 97 _sq._

Parsees, their customs as to menstruous women, i. 85

Partridge, C., ii. 204

Paschal candle, i. 121, 122 _n._, 125

—— Mountains, i. 141

Passage over or through fire a stringent form of purification, ii. 24;
  through a cleft stick in connexion with puberty and circumcision, 183
              _sq._

Passes, Indians of Brazil, seclusion of girls at puberty among the, i. 59

Passing over fire to get rid of ghosts, ii. 17 _sq._;
  through cleft trees and other harrow openings to get rid of ghosts,
              etc., 173 _sqq._;
  under a yoke as a purification, 193 _sqq._

Passing children through cleft trees, ii. 168 _sqq._;
  children, sheep, and cattle through holes in the ground, ii. 190 _sq._

Pastern-bone of a hare in a popular remedy, i. 17

Pastures fumigated at Midsummer to drive away witches and demons, i. 170

Patani States, custom as to the after-birth in the, ii. 164

Paths, separate, for men and women, i. 78, 80, 89

Patiko, in the Uganda Protectorate, dread of lightning at, ii. 298 _n._ 2

Paton, W. R., on the Golden Bough, ii. 319

Patriarch of Jerusalem kindles the new fire at Easter, i. 129

Patrician myrtle-tree at Rome, ii. 168

Patschkau, precautions against witches near, ii. 20 _n._

Pâturages, processions with torches at, i. 108

Pawnee story of the external soul, ii. 151

Pawnees, human sacrifices among the, ii. 286 _n._ 2

Pazzi family at Florence, i. 126

Peace-making ceremony among the Masai, ii. 139 _n._

Pear-tree as life-index of girl, ii. 165

—— -trees, torches thrown at, i. 108;
  rarely attacked by mistletoe, ii. 315

Peas, boiled, distributed by young married couples, i. 111 _n._ 1

Pebbles thrown into Midsummer fires, i. 183

Peguenches, seclusion of girls at puberty among the, i. 59

Peking, life-tree of the Manchu dynasty at, ii. 167 _sq._

Pelops at Olympia, ii. 90 _n._ 1

Pemba, island of, ii. 263

Pendle, the forest of, i. 245

Pennant, Thomas, on Beltane fires and cakes in Perthshire, i. 152;
  on Hallowe’en fires in Perthshire, 230

Pennefather River in Queensland, ii. 159;
  treatment of girls at puberty on the, i. 38

Penny-royal burnt in Midsummer fire, i. 213, 214;
  gathered at Midsummer, ii. 51

_Pentamerone_, the, ii. 105

Penzance, Midsummer fires at, i. 199 _sq._

Perche, Midsummer fires in, i. 188;
  St. John’s herb gathered on Midsummer Eve in, ii. 46;
  the _Chêne-Doré_ in, 287 _n._ 1

Perforating arms and legs of young men, girls, and dogs as a ceremony, i.
            58

Pergine, in the Tyrol, fern-seed at, ii. 288 _sq._

Perigord, the Yule log in, i. 250 _sq._, 253;
  magic herbs gathered at Midsummer in, ii. 46;
  crawling under a bramble as a cure for boils in, 180

Perkunas, Lithuanian god, his perpetual fire, ii. 91 _n._ 5

Péronne, mugwort at Midsummer near, ii. 58

Persians celebrate a festival of fire at the winter solstice, i. 269

Perthshire, Beltane fires and cakes in, i. 152 _sq._;
  traces of Midsummer fires in, 206;
  Hallowe’en bonfires in, 230 _sqq._;
  need-fire in, 296 _sq._

Peru, ceremony of the new fire in, i. 132

Perun, the oak sacred to the god, ii. 89

Petronius, his story of the were-wolf, i. 313 _sq._

Pett, Grace, a witch, i. 304

Petworth, in Sussex, cleft ash-trees used for the cure of rupture at, ii.
            170

Phalgun, a Hindoo month, ii. 2

Philip and James, the Apostles, feast of, i. 158

Piazza del Limbo at Florence, i. 126

Picardy, Lenten fire-customs in, i. 113;
  Midsummer fires in, 187

Piedmont, belief as to the “oil of St. John” on St. John’s morning in, ii.
            82 _sq._

Pietro in Guarano (Calabria), Easter custom at, i. 123

Pig, roast, at Christmas, i. 259;
  burnt sacrifice of a, 302

Pigeon, external soul of ogre in a, ii. 100;
  external soul of dragon in a, 112 _sq._

Pigeon’s egg, external soul of fairy being in, ii. 132 _sq._, 139

Pigeons deposit seed of mistletoe, ii. 316 _n._ 1

Pigs sacrificed, i. 9;
  driven through Midsummer fire, 179;
  driven through the need-fire, 272, 273, 274 _sq._, 275 _sq._, 276 _sq._,
              277, 278, 279, 297;
  offered to monster who swallows novices at initiation, ii. 240, 246

Pilgrimages on Yule Night in Sweden, i. 20 _sq._

Pillar, external soul of ogre in a, ii. 100 _sq._

Pima Indians, their purification for manslaughter, i. 21

Pines, Scotch, struck by lightning, proportion of, ii. 298

Pinewood, fire of, at Soracte, ii. 14, 91 _n._ 1

Pinoeh, district of South-Eastern Borneo, ii. 154 _sq._

Pippin, king of the Franks, i. 270

Pitlochrie, in Perthshire, i. 230

Pitrè, Giuseppe, on St. John’s Day in Sicily, ii. 29

Placci, Carlo, i. 127 _n._ 1

Place de Noailles at Marseilles, Midsummer flowers in the, ii. 46

Plane and birch, fire made by the friction of, i. 220

Plantain-tree, creeping through a cleft, as a cure, ii. 181

Plants, spirits of, in the form of snakes, ii. 44 _n._;
  external soul in, 159 _sqq._;
  and trees as life-indices, 160 _sqq._

Plaques or palettes of schist in Egyptian tombs, ii. 155 _n._ 3

Plates or basins, divination by three, i. 237 _sq._, 240, 244

Plato, on the distribution of the soul in the body, ii. 221 _n._ 1

Plebeian myrtle-tree at Rome, ii. 168

Pleiades, beginning of year determined by observation of the, ii. 244, 245
            _n._

Pliny on “serpents’ eggs,” i. 15;
  on medicinal plants, 17;
  on the touch of menstruous women, 96;
  on the fire-walk of the Hirpi Sorani, ii. 14;
  on the mythical springwort, 71;
  on the Druidical worship of mistletoe, 76 _sq._;
  on the virtues of mistletoe, 78;
  on the birds which deposit seeds of mistletoe, 316 _n._ 1;
  on the different kinds of mistletoe, 317

Plough, piece of Yule log inserted in the, i. 251, 337

Ploughing in spring, custom at the first, i. 18

Ploughshare, crawling under a, as a cure, ii. 180

Plum-tree wood used for Yule log, i. 250

Plurality of souls, doctrine of the, ii. 221 _sq._

Plutarch, on oak-mistletoe, ii. 318 _n._ 1

Pogdanzig, witches’ Sabbath at, ii. 74

Pointing sticks or bones in magic, i. 14

Poitou, Midsummer fires in, i. 182, 190 _sq._, 340 _sq._;
  fires on All Saints’ Day in, 246;
  the Yule log in, 251 _n._ 1;
  mugwort at Midsummer in, ii. 59

Poix, Lenten fires at, i. 113

Poland, need-fire in, i. 281 _sq._

_Polaznik_, _polazenik_, _polažaynik_, Christmas visiter, i. 261, 263, 264

Pole, sacred, of the Arunta, i. 7

Poles, passing between two poles after a death, ii. 178 _sq._;
  passing between two poles in order to escape sickness or evil spirit,
              ii. 179 _sqq._

Pollution, menstrual, widespread fear of, i. 76 _sqq._

Polygnotus, his picture of Orpheus under the willow, ii. 294

Pomerania, hills called the Blocksberg in, i. 171 _n._ 3

Pommerol, Dr., i. 112

Pond, G. H., on ritual of death and resurrection among the Dacotas, ii.
            269

Pongol or Feast of Ingathering in Southern India, ii. 1, 16

Pontesbury, in Shropshire, the Yule log at, i. 257

Popinjay, shooting at a, i. 194

_Popish Kingdome, The_, of Thomas Kirchmeyer, i. 125 _sq._, 162

Poplar, the white, used in sacrificing to Zeus at Olympia, ii. 90 _n._ 1,
            91 _n._ 7;
  black, mistletoe on, 318 _n._ 6

—— -wood used to kindle need-fire, i. 282

Porcupine as charm to ensure women an easy delivery, i. 49

Port Lincoln tribe of South Australia, their superstition as to lizards,
            ii. 216 _sq._

_Porta Triumphalis_ at Rome, ii. 195

Portrait statues, external souls of Egyptian kings deposited in, ii. 157

Portreach, sacrifice of a calf near, i. 301

Poseidon makes Pterelaus immortal, ii. 103;
  priest of, uses a white umbrella, i. 20 _n._ 1

Posidonius, Greek traveller in Gaul, ii. 32

Poso in Central Celebes, custom at the working of iron in, ii. 154;
  the Alfoors of, 222

Possession by an evil spirit cured by passing through a red-hot chain, ii.
            186

Potawatomi women secluded at menstruation, i. 89

_Potlatch_, distribution of property, ii. 274

Pots used by girls at puberty broken, i. 61, 69

Powers, extraordinary, ascribed to first-born children, i. 295

Požega district of Slavonia, need-fire in, i. 282

Prättigau in Switzerland, Lenten fire-custom at, i. 119

Prayers of adolescent girls to the Dawn of Day, i. 50 _sq._, 53, 98 _n._
            1;
  for rain, 133

Pretence of throwing a man into fire, i. 148, 186, ii. 25

Priapus, image of, at need-fire, i. 286

Priest of Aricia and the Golden Bough, i. 1;
  of Earth, taboos observed by the, 4;
  of Diana at Aricia, the King of the Wood, perhaps personified Jupiter,
              ii. 302 _sq._;
  at Nemi, 315

Priestesses not allowed to step on ground, i. 5

Priests expected to pass through fire, ii. 2, 5, 8, 9, 14

Primitive thought, its vagueness and inconsistency, ii. 301 _sq._

Prince Sunless, i. 21

—— of Wales Island, Torres Strait, treatment of girls at puberty in, i. 40

Princess royal, ceremonies at the puberty of a, i. 29, 30_ sq._

Procession with lighted tar-barrels on Christmas Eve, i. 268

Processions with lighted torches through fields, gardens, orchards, etc.,
            i. 107 _sq._, 110 _sqq._, 113 _sqq._, 141, 179, 233 _sq._,
            266, 339 _sq._;
  on Corpus Christi Day, 165;
  to the Midsummer bonfires, 184, 185, 187, 188, 191, 192, 193;
  across fiery furnaces, ii. 4 _sqq._;
  of giants (effigies) at popular festivals in Europe, 33 _sqq._

Profligacy at Holi festival in India, ii. 2

Prophecy, the Norse Sibyl’s, i. 102 _sq._

Proserpine River in Queensland, i. 39

Provence, Midsummer fires in, i. 193 _sq._;
  the Yule log in, 249 _sqq._

Prussia, Midsummer fires in, i. 176 _sq._;
  mullein gathered at Midsummer in, ii. 63 _sq._;
  witches’ Sabbath in, 74

——, Eastern, herbs gathered at Midsummer in, ii. 48 _sq._;
  divination by flowers on Midsummer Eve in, 53, 61;
  belief as to mistletoe growing on a thorn in, 291 _n._ 3

Prussian custom before first ploughing in spring, i. 18

Prussians, the old, worshipped serpents, ii. 43 _n._ 3

Pterelaus and his golden hair, ii. 103

Puberty, girls secluded at, i. 22 _sqq._;
  fast and dream at, ii. 222 _n._ 5;
  pretence of killing the novice and bringing him to life again during
              initiatory rites at, 225 _sqq._

Pueblo Indians of Arizona and New Mexico, use of bull-roarers among the,
            ii. 230 _n._, 231

Pulayars of Travancore, their seclusion of girls at puberty, i. 69

Pulverbatch, in Shropshire, the Yule log at, i. 257;
  belief as the bloom of the oak on Midsummer Eve at, ii. 292

Pumpkin, external soul in a, ii. 105

Punchkin and the parrot, story of, ii. 97 _sq._, 215, 220

Punjaub, supernatural power ascribed to the first-born in the, i. 295;
  passing unlucky children through narrow openings in the, ii. 190

Purification by stinging with ants, i. 61 _sqq._;
  by beating, 61, 64 _sqq._;
  of mourners by fire, ii. 17, 18 _sq._;
  after a death, 178;
  by passing under a yoke, 193 _sqq._

Purificatory theory of the fires of the fire-festivals, i. 329 _sq._, 341,
            ii. 16 _sqq._;
  more probable than the solar theory, i. 346

Purple loosestrife (_Lythrum salicaria_) gathered at Midsummer, ii. 65

_Purra_ or _poro_, secret society in Sierra Leone, ii. 260 _sq._

Puttenham, George, on the Midsummer giants, ii. 36 _sq._

Pyrenees, Midsummer fires in the French, i. 193

Quarter-ill, a disease of cattle, i. 296

Quedlinburg, in the Harz Mountains, need-fire at, i. 276

Queen Charlotte Islands, the Haida Indians of, i. 44

—— of Heaven, ii. 303

—— of Summer, i. 195

Queen’s County, Midsummer fires in, i. 203;
  divination at Hallowe’en in, 242

Queensland, sorcery in, i. 14;
  seclusion of girls at puberty in, 37 _sqq._;
  dread of women at menstruation in, 78;
  natives of, their mode of ascertaining the fate of an absent friend, ii.
              159 _sq._;
  use of bull-roarers in, 233

_Quimba_, a secret society on the Lower Congo, ii. 256 _n._

Quimper, Midsummer fires at, i. 184

Quirinus, sanctuary of, at Rome, ii. 168

Races at fire-festivals, i. 111;
  to Easter bonfire, 122;
  at Easter fires, 144;
  with torches at Midsummer, 175.
  _See also_ Torch-races

Radium, bearing of its discovery on the probable duration of the sun, ii.
            307 _n._ 2

Rahu, a tribal god in India, ii. 5

Rain, Midsummer bonfires supposed to stop, i. 188, 336;
  bull-roarers used as magical instruments to make, ii. 230 _sqq._

—— -clouds, smoke made in imitation of, i. 133

—— -makers (mythical), i. 133

—— -water in Morocco, magical virtues ascribed to, i. 17 _sq._

Raking a rick in the devil’s name, i. 243;
  the ashes, a mode of divination, 243

Ralston, W. R. S., on sacred fire of Perkunas, ii. 91 _n._ 3

Rama, his battle with the King of Ceylon, ii. 102

Rampart, old, of Burghead, i. 267 _sq._

Ramsay, John, of Ochtertyre, on Beltane fires, i. 146 _sqq._;
  on Midsummer fires, 206;
  on Hallowe’en fires, 230 _sq._;
  on burying cattle alive, 325 _sq._

Rarhi, Brahmans of Bengal, their seclusion of girls at puberty, i. 68

Rat, external soul of medicine-man in, ii. 199

Rattan, creeping through a split, to escape a malignant spirit, ii. 183

Rattle used at a festival, i. 28

Rattles to frighten ghosts, i. 52

Raven clan, ii. 271

Ray-fish, cure for wound inflicted by a, i. 98 _n._ 1

Raymi, a festival of the summer solstice, i. 132

Reapers throw sickles blindfold at last sheaf, ii. 279 _n._ 4

Reaping, girdle of rye a preventive of weariness in, i. 190

Reay, in Sutherland, the need-fire at, i. 294 _sq._

Red earth or paint smeared on girls at puberty, i. 30, 31;
  girl’s face painted red at puberty, 49 _sq._, 54;
  women at menstruation painted, 78

—— and white, girls at puberty painted, i. 35, 38, 39, 40;
  women at menstruation painted, 78

—— -hot iron chain, passing persons possessed by evil spirits through a,
            ii. 186

—— Island, i. 39

—— ochre round a woman’s mouth, mark of menstruation, i. 77

Redemption from the fire, i. 110

Reed, W. A., on a superstition as to a parasitic plant, ii. 282

Reed, split, used in cure for dislocation, ii. 177

Reef, plain of, in Tiree, i. 316

Regaby, in the Isle of Man, i. 224

Reindeer sacrificed to the dead, ii. 178

Reinsberg-Düringsfeld, O. Frh. von, on the Yule log, i. 249

Reiskius, Joh., on the need-fire, i. 271 _sq._

Religion, movement of thought from magic through religion to science, ii.
            304 _sq._

Religious associations among the Indians of North America, ii. 266 _sqq._

Remedies, magical, not allowed to touch the ground, i. 14

Renewal of fire, annual, in China, i. 137.
  _See also_ Fire

Rengen, in the Eifel Mountains, Midsummer flowers at, ii. 48

Resoliss, parish of, in Ross-shire, burnt sacrifice of a pig in, i. 301
            _sq._

Resurrection, ritual of death and, ii. 225 _sqq._

Reuzes, wicker giants in Brabant and Flanders, ii. 35

Revin, Midsummer fires at, i. 188

Rhenish Prussia, Lenten fires in, i. 115

Rheumatism, crawling under a bramble as a cure for, ii. 180

Rhine, the Lower, need-fire on, i. 278;
  St. John’s wort on, ii. 54

Rhodesia, the Winamwanga of, ii. 297

_Rhodomyrtus tomentosus_, used to kindle fire by friction, ii. 8

Rhön Mountains, Lenten custom in the, i. 117

Rhys, Sir John, on Beltane fires, i. 157;
  on driving cattle through fires, 159;
  on old New Year’s Day in the Isle of Man, 224;
  on Hallowe’en bonfires in Wales, 239 _sq._;
  on burnt sacrifices in the Isle of Man, 305 _sqq._;
  on alleged Welsh name for mistletoe, ii. 286 _n._ 3

Ribble, the, i. 245

Ribwort gathered at Midsummer, ii. 49

Rickard, R. H., quoted, i. 34

Rickets, children passed through cleft ash-trees as a cure for, ii. 168;
  children passed through cleft oaks as a cure for, 170;
  children passed through a holed stone as a cure for, 187

Rickety children passed through a natural wooden ring, ii. 184

Riedel, J. G. F., on the Kakian association in Ceram, ii. 249

Rif, province of Morocco, Midsummer fires in, i. 214 _n._, 215;
  bathing at Midsummer in, 216

Riga, Midsummer festival at, i. 177

Right hand, luckiness of the, i. 151 _n._

—— turn (_deiseal_, _dessil_) in the Highlands of Scotland, i. 150 _n._ 1,
            154

Rigveda, how Indra cured Apala in the, ii. 193

Ring, crawling through a, as a cure or preventive of disease, ii. 184
            _sqq._;
  divination by a, i. 237;
  worn by initiates as token of the new birth, ii. 257.
  _See also_ Rings

Ringhorn, Balder’s ship, i. 102

Ringing church bells on Midsummer Eve, custom as to, ii. 47 _sq._

Rings as amulets, i. 92;
  mourners creep through, ii. 178, 179.
  _See also_ Ring

Rio de Janeiro, i. 59

—— Negro, ordeals of young men among the Indians of the, i. 63

Risley, Sir Herbert H., on Indian fire-walk, ii. 5 _n._ 3

Ritual, myths dramatized in, i. 105;
  of death and resurrection, ii. 225 _sqq._

Rivers, Dr. W. H. R., on _tamaniu_, ii. 199 _n._ 1

Rivers, menstruous women not allowed to cross or bathe in, i. 77, 97;
  claim human victims at Midsummer, ii. 26 _sqq._;
  bathing in, at Midsummer, 30

Rizano, in Dalmatia, the Yule log at, i. 263

Robertson, Rev. James, quoted, i. 150 _sqq._

Robinson, C. H., on human life bound up with that of an animal, ii. 209

Rochholz, C. L., on need-fire, i. 270 _n._

Rocks, sick people passed through holes in, ii. 186 _sq._, 189 _sq._

Roman belief as to menstruous women, i. 98 _n._ 1

—— cure for dislocation, ii. 177

Romans deemed sacred the places which were struck by lightning, ii. 299

Romanus Lecapenus, emperor, ii. 156

Rome, the sacred fire of Vesta at, i. 138, ii. 91;
  Midsummer Day in ancient, i. 178;
  myrtle-trees of the Patricians and Plebeians at, ii. 168;
  oak of the Vespasian family at, 168

Romove, sacred oak and perpetual fire at, ii. 91, 286

Roof of house, the external soul in, ii. 156

Rook, the island of, initiation of young men in, ii. 246

Roscher, Dr. W. H., on the Roman ceremony of passing under a yoke, ii. 194
            _n._ 2

Roscoe, Rev. J., on life-trees of kings of Uganda, ii. 160;
  on passing through a cleft stick or a narrow opening as a cure, 181

Roscommon, County, divination at Hallowe’en in, i. 243

Rose-tree, death in a blue, ii. 110

Roses, festival of the Crown of, i. 195;
  the King and Queen of, 195

Ross-shire, Beltane cakes in, i. 153;
  burnt sacrifice of a pig in, 301 _sq._

Rotenburg on the Neckar, offering to the river on St. John’s Day, ii. 28;
  the wicked weaver of, 289 _sq._

Rottenburg, in Swabia, burning the Angel-man at, i. 167;
  precautions against witches on Midsummer Eve at, ii. 73

Roumanians of Transylvania, their belief as to the sacredness of bread, i.
            13

Rowan, parasitic, esteemed effective against witchcraft, ii. 281;
  superstitions about a, 281 _sq._;
  how it is to be gathered, 282;
  not to be touched with iron and not to fall on the ground, 282

—— -tree a protection against witches, i. 154, 327 _n._ 1, ii. 184 _n._ 4,
            185;
  hoop of, sheep passed through a, 184.
  _See also_ Mountain-ash

Rubens, painter, ii. 33

Rucuyennes of Brazil, ordeal of young men among the, i. 63

Rue aux Ours at Paris, effigy of giant burnt in the, ii. 38

Rue burnt in Midsummer fire, i. 213

Rügen, sick persons passed through a cleft oak in, ii. 172

Rum, island of, and the Lachlin family, ii. 284

Rupert’s Day, effigy burnt on, i. 119

Rupt in the Vosges, Lenten fires at, i. 109;
  the Yule log at, 254

Rupture, children passed through cleft ash-trees or oaks as a cure for,
            ii. 168 _sqq._, 170 _sqq._

Russia, Midsummer fires in, i. 176, ii. 40;
  need-fire in, i. 281, ii. 91;
  treatment of the effigy of Kupalo in, 23;
  the Letts of, 50;
  purple loose-strife gathered at Midsummer in, 65;
  fern-seed at Midsummer in, 65, 66, 287 _sq._;
  birth-trees in, 165

Russian feast of Florus and Laurus, i. 220

—— story of Koshchei the deathless, ii. 108 _sqq._

Rustem and Isfendiyar, i. 104 _sq._

Ruthenia, Midsummer bonfires in, i. 176

Rye, girdles of, a preventive of weariness in reaping, i. 190

Saale, the river, claims a human victim on Midsummer Day, ii. 26

Saaralben in Lorraine, ii. 47

Sabbaths of witches on the Eve of May Day and Midsummer Eve, i. 171 _n._
            3, 181, ii. 73, 74

Sacramental bread at Nemi, ii. 286 _n._ 2

—— meal at initiation in Fiji, ii. 245 _sq._

Sacred flutes played at initiation, ii. 241

—— kings put to death, i. 1 _sq._

—— persons not allowed to set foot on the ground, i. 2 _sqq._;
  not to see the sun, i. 18 _sqq._

—— stick (_churinga_), ii. 234

Sacrifice of cattle at holy oak, i. 181;
  of heifer at kindling need-fire, 290;
  of an animal to stay a cattle-plague, 300 _sqq._;
  of reindeer to the dead, ii. 178

Sacrifices, human, at fire-festivals, i. 106;
  traces of, 146, 148, 150 _sqq._, 186, ii. 31;
  offered by the ancient Germans, 28 _n._ 1;
  among the Celts of Gaul, 32 _sq._;
  the victims perhaps witches and wizards, 41 _sqq._;
  W. Mannhardt’s theory, 43

“Sacrificial fonts” in Sweden, i. 172 _n._ 2

_Sada_, _Saza_, Persian festival of fire at the winter solstice, i. 269

Sage, divination by sprigs of red, on Midsummer Eve, ii. 61 _n._ 4

Sagittarius, mistletoe cut when the sun is in the sign of, ii. 82

Sahagun, B. de, on the treatment of witches and wizards among the Aztecs,
            ii. 159

Saibai, island of Torres Strait, treatment of girls at puberty in, i. 40
            _sq._

Sail Dharaich, Sollas, in North Uist, need-fire at, i. 294

St. Antony, wood of, i. 110

St. Brandon, church of, in Ireland, sick women pass through a window of
            the, ii. 190

St. Christopher, name given to Midsummer giant at Salisbury, ii. 38

St. Columb Kill, festival of, i. 241

St. Corona, church of, at Koppenwal, holed stone in the, ii. 188 _sq._

Saint-Denis-des-Puits, the oak of, ii. 287 _n._ 1

St. Eloi, Bishop of Noyon, his denunciation of heathen practices, ii. 190

St. Estapin, festival of, on August the sixth, ii. 188

St. George’s Day, i. 223 _n._ 2

St. Hubert blesses bullets with which to shoot witches, i. 315 _sq._

St. James’s Day (July the twenty-fifth), the flower of chicory cut on, ii.
            71

St. Jean, in the Jura, Midsummer fire-custom at, i. 189

St. John blesses the flowers on Midsummer Eve, i. 171;
  his hair looked for in ashes of Midsummer fire, 182 _sq._, 190;
  fires of, in France, 183, 188, 189, 190, 192, 193;
  prayers to, at Midsummer, 210;
  claims human victims on St. John’s Day (Midsummer Day), ii. 27, 29;
  print of his head on St. John’s Eve, 57;
  oil of, found on oak leaves, 83

——, the Knights of, i. 194

——, Grand Master of the Order of, i. 211

—— the Baptist associated by the Catholic Church with Midsummer Day, i.
            160, 181

St. John’s blood found on St. John’s wort and other plants at Midsummer,
            ii. 56, 57

St. John’s College, Oxford, the Christmas candle at, i. 255

—— Day, Midsummer fires on, i. 167 _sqq._, 171 _sqq._, 178, 179;
  fire kindled by friction of wood on, 281;
  fern-seed blooms on, ii. 287.
  _See also_ Midsummer.

—— Eve (Midsummer Eve) in Malta, i. 210 _sq._;
  wonderful herbs gathered on, ii. 45 _sqq._;
  sick children passed through cleft trees on, 171

St. John’s fires among the South Slavs, i. 178;
  among the Esthonians, 180.
  _See also_ Midsummer fires

—— flower at Midsummer, ii. 50;
  gathered on St. John’s Eve (Midsummer Eve), 57 _sq._

—— girdle, mugwort, ii. 59

—— herbs gathered at Midsummer, ii. 46 _sq._, 49;
  a protection against evil spirits, 49

—— Night (Midsummer Eve), precautions against witches on, ii. 20 _n._

—— oil on oaks at Midsummer, ii. 293

—— root (_Johanniswurzel_), the male fern, ii. 66

—— wort (_Hypericum perforatum_), garlands of, at Midsummer, i. 169 _n._
            3, 196;
  gathered on St. John’s Day or Eve (Midsummer Day or Eve), ii. 49, 54
              _sqq._;
  a protection against thunder, witches, and evil spirits, 54, 55, 74;
  thrown into the Midsummer bonfires, 55

St. Juan Capistrano, in California, ordeal of nettles and ants among the
            Indians of, i. 64

St. Julien, church of, at Ath, ii. 36

St. Just, in Cornwall, Midsummer fire-custom at, i. 200

St. Lawrence family, their lives bound up with an old tree at Howth
            castle, ii. 166

St. Martin invoked to disperse a mist, i. 280

St. Mary at Lübeck, church of, i. 100

St. Michael’s cake, i. 149, 154 _n._ 3

St. Nonnosius, relics of, in the cathedral of Freising, Bavaria, ii. 188
            _sq._

St. Patrick and the Beltane fires, i. 157 _sq._

St. Patrick’s Chair, i. 205

—— Mount, i. 205

St. Peter, the Eve of, Midsummer fires in Ireland on, i. 202

—— and St. Paul, celebration of their day in London, i. 196

St. Peter’s at Rome, new fire at Easter in, i. 125

—— Day, bonfires in Belgium on, i. 194 _sq._;
  bonfires at Eton on, 197;
  fires in Scotland on, 207

—— Eve, bonfires on, i. 195, 198, 199 _sq._;
  gathering herbs on, ii. 45 _n._ 1

St. Rochus’s day, need-fire kindled on, i. 282

St. Thomas’s day (21st December), bonfires on, i. 266;
  witches dreaded on, ii. 73

—— Mount, near Madras, the fire-walk at, ii. 8 _n._ 1

Saint-Valery in Picardy, i. 113

St. Vitus’s dance, mistletoe a cure for, ii. 84

—— Day, “fire of heaven” kindled on, i. 335

St. Wolfgang, Falkenstein chapel of, ii. 189

Saintes-Maries, Midsummer custom at, i. 194

Saintonge, the Yule log in, i. 251 _n._ 1;
  wonderful herbs gathered on St. John’s Eve in, ii. 45;
  St. John’s wort in, 55;
  vervain gathered at Midsummer in, 62 _n. 4_;
  four-leaved clover at Midsummer in, 63

—— and Aunis, Midsummer fires in, i. 192

Salee, in Morocco, Midsummer fires at, i. 214, 216

Salisbury, Midsummer giants at, ii. 37 _sq._

Salop (Shropshire), fear of witchcraft in, i. 342 _n._ 4

Salt, prohibition to eat, i. 19, 20;
  used in a ceremony after marriage, 25 _sq._;
  abstinence from, associated with a rule of chastity, 26 _sqq._;
  prohibition to taste, 60, 68, 69;
  not to be handled by menstruous women, 81 _sq._, 84;
  divination by, 244

—— cake, divination by, i. 238 _sq._

Samhain, Eve of, in Ireland, i. 139, 225, 226;
  All Saints’ Day in Ireland, 225

_Samhanach_, Hallowe’en bogies, i. 227

_Samhnagan_, Hallowe’en fires, i. 230

Samland fishermen will not go to sea on Midsummer Day, ii. 26

Samoan story of woman who was impregnated by the sun, i. 74 _sq._

Samoyed shamans, their familiar spirits in boars, ii. 196 _sq._

—— story of the external soul, ii. 141 _sq._

Samson, effigy of, ii. 36;
  an African, 314

San Salvador in West Africa, ii. 200

Sanctity and uncleanness not clearly differentiated in the primitive mind,
            i. 97 _sq._

Sanctuary of Balder, i. 104

Sand, souls of ogres in a grain of, ii. 120

Sandhill, in Northumberland, Midsummer fires at, i. 198

Sangerhausen, i. 169

Sangro, river, i. 210

Sankuru River, ii. 264

Santa Catalina Istlavacan, birth-names of the Indians of, ii. 214 _n._ 1

—— Maria Piedigrotta at Naples, i. 221

Sapor, king of Persia, i. 82 _sq._

Sarajevo, need-fire near, i. 286

Sardinia, Midsummer fires in, i. 209

Satan preaches a sermon in the church of North Berwick, ii. 158;
  brings fern-seed on Christmas night, 289

_Satapatha Brahmana_, on the sun as Death, ii. 174 _n._ 1

Saturday, Easter, new fire on, i. 121, 122, 124, 127, 128, 130;
  second-sight of persons born on a, 285

Saturnalia at puberty of a princess royal, i. 30 _sq._;
  license of the, ii. 291 _n._ 2

Saucers, divination by seven, i. 209

Savage, secretiveness of the, ii. 224 _sq._;
  dread of sorcery, 224 _sq._

Saxo Grammaticus, Danish historian, i. 102 _n._ 1;
  his account of Balder, 103

Saxons of Transylvania, story of the external soul among the, ii. 116

Saxony, fires to burn the witches in, i. 160;
  the Wends of, ii. 297

——, Lower, the need-fire in, i. 272

Scania, Midsummer fires in, i. 172

Schaffhausen, St. John’s three Midsummer victims at, ii. 27

Schar mountains of Servia, need-fire in the, i. 281

_Scharholz_, Midsummer log in Germany, ii. 92 _n._ 1

Schaumburg, Easter bonfires in, i. 142

Schlegel, G., on Chinese festival of fire, ii. 5 _n._ 1

Schlich, W., on mistletoe, ii. 315 _sq._;
  on _Loranthus europaeus_, 317

Schlochau, district of, witches’ Sabbath in, ii. 74

Schöllbronn in Baden, “thunder poles” at, i. 145

Schoolcraft, Henry R., on renewal of fire, i. 134 _n._ 1

Schürmann, C. W., on the Port Lincoln tribe of South Australia, ii. 216
            _sq._

_Schvannes_, bonfires, i. 111 _n._ 1

Schweina, in Thuringia, Christmas bonfire at, i. 265 _sq._

Schwenda, witches burnt at, i. 6

Science, movement of thought from magic through religion to, ii. 304
            _sq._;
  and magic, different views of natural order postulated by the two, 305
              _sq._

Scira, an Athenian festival, i. 20 _n._ 1

“Scoring above the breath,” cutting a witch on the forehead, i. 315 _n._
            2;
  counter-spell to witchcraft, 343 _n._

Scotch Highlanders, their belief in bogies at Hallowe’en, i. 227;
  their belief as to Snake Stones, ii. 311

Scotland, sacred wells in, i. 12;
  Celts called “thunder-bolts” in, 14 _sq._;
  Snake Stones in, 15 _sq._, ii. 311;
  worship of Grannus in, i. 112;
  Beltane fires in, 146 _sqq._;
  Midsummer fires in, 206 _sq._;
  divination at Hallowe’en in, 229, 234 _sqq._;
  need-fire in, 289 _sqq._;
  animals burnt alive as a sacrifice in, 302;
  “scoring above the breath,” a counter-charm for witchcraft in, 315 _n._
              2;
  witches as hares in, 315 _n._ 1;
  St. John’s wort in, ii. 54;
  the divining-rod in, 67.
  _See also_ Highlands _and_ Highlanders

Scots pine, mistletoe on, ii. 315

Scott, Sir Walter, on the fear of witchcraft, i. 343;
  oaks planted by, ii. 166

Scourging girls at puberty, i. 66 _sq._

_Scouvion_, i. 108.
  _See_ _Escouvion_

Scratching the person with the fingers forbidden to girls at puberty, i.
            38, 39, 41, 42, 44, 47, 50, 53, 92

Scrofula, vervain a cure for, ii. 62 _n._ 1;
  creeping through an arch of vines as a cure for, 180;
  passage through a holed stone a cure for, 187

Scylla, daughter of Nisus, the story of her treachery, ii. 103

Scythes and bill-hooks set out to cut witches as they fall from the
            clouds, i. 345 _sq._

Sea, menstruous women not allowed to approach the, i. 79;
  bathing in the, at Easter, 123;
  bathing in the, at Midsummer, 208, 210, ii. 30;
  demands a human victim on Midsummer Day, 26

Seal, descendants of the, in Sutherlandshire, ii. 131 _sq._

Seats placed for souls of dead at the Midsummer fires, i. 183, 184

Seclusion of girls at puberty, i. 22 _sqq._,;
  in folk-tales, 70 _sqq._;
  reasons for the, 76 _sqq._

—— of novices at initiation, ii. 233, 241, 250, 253, 257 _n._ 1, 258, 259,
            261, 264, 266

—— of women at menstruation, i. 76 _sqq._

Secret language learnt at initiation, ii. 253, 255 _n._ 1, 259, 261 _n._

—— societies and totem clans, related to each other, ii. 272 _sq._

Secretiveness of the savage, ii. 224 _sq._

Sedbury Park oak, in Gloucestershire, ii. 316

_Sedum telephium_, orpine, used in divination at Midsummer, ii. 61

Seed-corn, charred remains of Midsummer log mixed with the, ii. 92

Seeman, Berthold, on St. John’s blood, ii. 56

Seler, Professor E., on nagual, ii. 213 _n._

_Semo_, a secret society of Senegambia, ii. 261

Senal Indians of California, their notion as to fire stored in trees, ii.
            295

Senegambia, the Walos of, ii. 79;
  secret society in, 261 _sq._

Sennar, a province of the Sudan, human hyaenas in, i. 313

Separation of children from their parents among the Baganda, i. 23 _n._ 2

September, eve of the first of, new fire on the, i. 139;
  the eighth, feast of the Nativity of the Virgin, 220;
  the fire-walk in, ii. 9

Serpent, girls at puberty thought to be visited by a, i. 31;
  supposed to swallow girl at puberty, 57;
  ten-headed, external soul in a, ii. 104 _sq._;
  twelve-headed, external soul of demon in a, 143;
  external soul of chief in a, 201.
  _See also_ Snake

Serpents burnt alive at the Midsummer festival in Luchon, ii. 38 _sq._,
            43;
  witches turn into, 41;
  worshipped by the old Prussians, 43 _n._ 3;
  in the worship of Demeter, 44 _n._;
  the familiars of witches, 202;
  spirits of the dead incarnate in, 211 _sq._

Serpents’ eggs (glass beads) in ancient Gaul, i. 15

Servia, Midsummer fire custom in, i. 178;
  the Yule log in, 258 _sqq._;
  need-fire in, 281, 282 _sqq._

Servian stories of the external soul, ii. 110 _sqq._

Servians, house-communities of the, i. 259 _n._ 1

Setonje, in Servia, need-fire at, i. 282 _sqq._

Seven bonfires, lucky to see, i. 107, 108

—— leaps over Midsummer fire, i. 213

—— sorts of plants gathered at Midsummer, ii. 51 _sq._

—— years, a were-wolf for, i. 310 _n._ 1, 316 _n._ 2

Sex totems among the natives of South-Eastern Australia, ii. 214 _sqq._;
  called “brother” and “sister” by men and women respectively, 215

Sexes, danger apprehended from the relation of the, ii. 277 _sq._

Seyf el-Mulook and the jinnee, the story of, ii. 137

Sgealoir, the burying-ground of, i. 294

_Sgreball_, three pence, i. 139

Sham-fights at New Year, i. 135

Shamans of the Yakuts and Samoyeds keep their external souls in animals,
            ii. 196

Shamash, the Assyrian sun-god, ii. 80 _n._ 3

Shanga, city in East Africa, ii. 314

Shawnee prophet, ii. 157

Sheaf, the last cut at harvest, the Yule log wrapt up in, i. 248;
  reapers blindfold throw sickles at the, ii. 279 _n._ 4

Sheaves of wheat or barley burnt in Midsummer fires, i. 215

Sheep made to tread embers of extinct Midsummer fires, i. 182;
  driven over ashes of Midsummer fires, 192;
  burnt to stop disease in the flock, 301;
  burnt alive as a sacrifice in the Isle of Man, 306;
  witch in shape of a black, 316;
  driven through fire, ii. 11 _sqq._;
  omens drawn from the intestines of, 13;
  passed through a hole in a rock to rid them of disease, 189 _sq._

Shells used in ritual of death and resurrection, ii. 267 _n._ 2, 269

Sherbro, Sierra Leone, secret society in the, ii. 259 _sqq._

Shirley Heath, cleft ash-tree at, ii. 168

Shirt, wet, divination by, i. 236, 241

Shoe, divination by thrown, i. 236

Shoes of boar’s skin worn by king at inauguration, i. 4;
  magical plants at Midsummer put in, ii. 54, 60, 65

Shooting at the sun on Midsummer Day, ii. 291

—— at witches in the clouds, i. 345

“Shot-a-dead” by fairies, i. 303

Shropshire, the Yule log in, i. 257;
  fear of witchcraft in, 342 _n._ 4;
  the oak thought to bloom on Midsummer Eve in, ii. 292, 293

Shrove Tuesday, effigies burnt on, i. 120;
  straw-man burnt on, ii. 22;
  wicker giants on, 35;
  cats burnt alive on, 40;
  the divining-rod cut on, 68;
  custom of striking a hen dead on, 279 _n._

Shuswap Indians of British Columbia, seclusion of girls at puberty among
            the, i. 53 _sq._;
  girls at puberty forbidden to eat anything that bleeds, 94;
  fence themselves with thorn bushes against ghosts, ii. 174 _n._ 2;
  personal totems among the, 276 _n._ 1;
  their belief as to trees struck by lightning, 297 _n._ 3

Siam, king of, not allowed to set foot on ground, i. 3;
  tree-spirit in serpent form in, ii. 44 _n._ 1

Siamese, their explanation of a first menstruation, i. 24;
  their story of the external soul, ii. 102

Siberia, marriage custom in, i. 75;
  external souls of shamans in, ii. 196 _sq._

Sibyl, the Norse, her prophecy, i. 102 _sq._

Sibyl’s wish, the, i. 99

Sicily, Midsummer fires in, i. 210;
  St. John’s Day (Midsummer Day) regarded as dangerous and unlucky in, ii.
              29;
  bathing at Midsummer in, 29;
  St. John’s wort in, 55

Sickness, bonfires a protection against, i. 108, 109;
  transferred to animal, ii. 181

Sieg, the Yule log in the valley of the, i. 248

Siena, the, of the Ivory Coast, their totemism, ii. 220 _n._ 2

Sierck, town on the Moselle, i. 164

Sierra Leone, birth-trees in, ii. 160;
  secret society in, 260 _sq._

Sieve, divination by, i. 236

Sikkhim, custom after a funeral in, ii. 18

Silence compulsory on girls at puberty, i. 29, 57;
  in ritual, 123, 124, ii. 63, 67, 171, 184

Silesia, Spachendorf in, i. 119;
  fires to burn the witches in, 160;
  Midsummer fires in, 170 _sq._, 175;
  need-fire in, 278;
  witches as cats in, 319 _sq._;
  divination by flowers on Midsummer Eve in, ii. 53

Silius Italicus, on the fire-walk of the Hirpi Sorani, ii. 14 _n._ 3

Sill of door, unlucky children passed under the, ii. 190

Silver sixpence or button used to shoot witches with, i. 316

Silvia and Mars, story of, ii. 102

Simeon, prince of Bulgaria, his life bound up with the capital of a
            column, ii. 156 _sq._

Simla, i. 12

Simurgh and Rustem, i. 104

Sin-offering, i. 82

Singhalese, seclusion of girls at puberty among the, i. 69

Singleton, Miss A. H., ii. 192 _n._ 1

Siouan tribes of North America, names of clans not used in ordinary
            conversation among the, ii. 224 _n._ 2

Sioux or Dacotas, ritual of death and resurrection among the, ii. 268
            _sq._

Sipi in Northern India, i. 12

Sirius, how the Bushmen warm up the star, i. 332 _sq._

Sister’s Beam (_Sororium tigillum_) at Rome, ii. 194, 195 _n._ 4

Sisyphus, the stone of, i. 298

Sixpence, silver, witches shot with a, i. 316

Sixth day of the moon, mistletoe cut on the, ii. 77

Sixty years, cycles of, ii. 77 _n._ 1

Skin disease, traditional cure of, in India, ii. 192;
  leaping over ashes of fire as remedy for, 2

Sky, girls at puberty not allowed to look at the, i. 43, 45, 46, 69

Skye, island of, i. 289;
  the need-fire in, 148

Slane, the hill of, i. 158

Slave Coast, custom of widows on the, ii. 18 _sq._;
  use of bull-roarers on the, 229 _n._

Slavonia, the Yule log in, i. 262 _sq._;
  need-fire in, 282

Slavonian (South) peasants, the measures they take to bring down witches
            from the clouds, i. 345

Slavonic peoples, need-fire among, i. 280 _sqq._, 344

—— stories of the external soul, ii. 108 _sqq._

Slavs, the oak a sacred tree among the, ii. 89;
  oak wood used to kindle sacred fires among the, 91

——, the South, Midsummer fires among the, i. 178;
  the Yule log among the, 247, 258 _sqq._;
  divination from flowers at Midsummer among the, ii. 50;
  their belief in the activity of witches at Midsummer, 74 _sq._;
  need-fire sometimes kindled by the friction of oak-wood among the, 91

Sleep, magic, at initiation, ii. 256 _sq._

Sligo, the Druids’ Hill in County, i. 229

Slope of Big Stones in Harris, i. 227

Slovenians, their belief in the activity of witches on Midsummer Eve, ii.
            75

Smith, a spectral, i. 136

Smoke made in imitation of rain-clouds, i. 133;
  used to stupefy witches in the clouds, 345;
  used to fumigate sheep and cattle, ii. 12, 13

—— of bonfires, omens drawn from the, i. 116, 131, 337;
  intended to drive away dragons, 161;
  allowed to pass over corn, 201, 337

—— of Midsummer bonfires a preservative against ills, i. 188;
  a protection against disease, 192;
  beneficial effects of, 214 _sq._

—— of Midsummer herbs a protection against thunder and lightning, ii. 48;
  used to fumigate cattle, 53

—— of need-fire used to fumigate fruit-trees, nets, and cattle, i. 280

Smyth, R. Brough, on menstruous women in Australia, i. 13

Snake said to wound a girl at puberty, i. 56;
  seven-headed, external soul of witch in a, ii. 144;
  external soul of medicine-man in, 199.
  _See also_ Serpent

—— Stones, superstitions as to, i. 15 _sq._;
  belief of the Scottish Highlanders concerning, ii. 311

Snakes, fat of, i. 14;
  thought to congregate on Midsummer Eve or the Eve of May Day, 15 _sq._;
  charm against, 17;
  spirits of plants and trees in the form of, ii. 44 _n._;
  sympathetically related to human beings, 209 _sq._

Snow, external soul of a king in, ii. 102

Societies, secret, and clans, totemic, related to each other, ii. 272
            _sq._

Sodewa Bai and the golden necklace, story of, ii. 99 _sq._

Soemara, in Celebes, were-wolf at, i. 312

Sofala in East Africa, i. 135 _n._ 2

Sogamoso, heir to the throne of, not allowed to see the sun, i. 19

Sogne Fiord in Norway, Balder’s Grove on the, i. 104, ii. 315

Solar festival in spring, ii. 3

—— theory of the fires of the fire-festivals, i. 329, 331 _sqq._, ii. 15
            _sq._, 72

Solstice, the summer, new fire kindled at the, i. 132, 133;
  its importance for primitive man, 160 _sq._

——, the winter, celebrated as the Birthday of the Sun, i. 246;
  Persian festival of fire at the, 269

Solstices, the old pagan festivals of the two, consecrated as the
            birthdays of Christ and St. John the Baptist, i. 181 _sq._;
  festivals of fire at the, 246, 247, 331 _sq._;
  fern-seed gathered at the, ii. 290 _sq._;
  mistletoe gathered at the, 291 _sq._

Solstitial fires perhaps sun-charms, ii. 292

Soma, Hindoo deity, i. 99 _n._ 2

Somme, the river, i. 113;
  the department of, mugwort at Midsummer in, ii. 58

Somersetshire, Midsummer fires in, i. 199

Sonnerat, French traveller, on the fire-walk in India, ii. 6 _sqq._

Soosoos of Senegambia, their secret society, ii. 261 _sq._

Soracte, fire-walk of the Hirpi Sorani on Mount, ii. 14 _sq._;
  the Soranian Wolves at, 91 _n._ 7

“Soranian Wolves” (_Hirpi Sorani_), ii. 14;
  at Soracte, 91 _n._ 1

Soranus, Italian god, ii. 14, 15 _n._ 1, 16

Sorcerers, Midsummer herbs a protection against, ii. 45;
  detected by St. John’s wort, 55;
  detected by fern root, 67

Sorcery, pointing sticks or bones in, i. 14;
  bonfires a protection against, 156;
  sprigs of mullein protect cattle against, 190;
  mistletoe a protection against, ii. 85;
  savage dread of, 224 _sq._
  _See also_ Witchcraft

—— and witchcraft, Midsummer plants and flowers a protection against, ii.
            45, 46, 49, 54, 55, 59, 60, 62, 64, 65, 66, 67, 72

Sorcha, the King of, in a Celtic tale, ii. 127 _sq._

Soul, the notion of, a quasi-scientific hypothesis, ii. 221;
  the unity and indivisibility of the, a theological dogma, 221

—— of chief in sacred grove, ii. 161

Soul of child deposited in a coco-nut, ii. 154 _sq._;
  deposited in a bag, 155;
  bound up with knife, 157

—— of iron, ii. 154

—— of ruptured person passes into cleft oak-tree, ii. 172

—— of woman at childbirth deposited in a chopping-knife, ii. 153 _sq._

—— the external, in folk-tales, ii. 95 _sqq._;
  in parrot, 97 _sq._;
  in bird, 98 _sq._;
  in necklace, 99 _sq._;
  in a fish, 99 _sq._, 122 _sq._;
  in cock, pigeon, starling, spinning-wheel, pillar, 100 _sq._;
  in a bee, 101;
  in a lemon, 102;
  in a tree, 102;
  in a barley plant, 102;
  in a box, 102, 117, 143 _n._ 4, 149;
  in a firebrand, 103;
  in hair, 103 _sq._;
  in snow, 103 _sq._;
  in two or three doves, 104;
  in a ten-headed serpent, 104 _sq._;
  in a pumpkin, 105;
  in a spear, 105;
  in a dragon, 105;
  in a gem, 105 _sq._;
  in an egg, 107, 125, 127, 140 _sq._;
  in a duck’s egg, 109 _sq._, 115 _sq._, 116, 119 _sq._, 120, 126, 130,
              132;
  in a blue rose-tree, 110;
  in a bird, 111, 119, 142, 150;
  in a pigeon, 112 _sq._;
  in a light, 116;
  in a flower, 117 _sq._;
  in grain of sand, 120;
  in a stone, 125 _n._ 1, 156;
  in a thorn, 129;
  in a gem, 130;
  in a pigeon’s egg, 132, 139;
  in a dove’s egg, 133;
  in a box-tree, 133;
  in the flower of the acacia, 135 _sq._;
  in a sparrow, 137;
  in a beetle, 138, 140;
  in a bottle, 138;
  in a golden cock-chafer, 140;
  in a dish, 141 _sq._;
  in a precious stone, 142;
  in a bag, 142;
  in a white herb, 143;
  in a wasp, 143 _sq._;
  in a twelve-headed serpent, 143;
  in a golden ring, 143;
  in seven little birds, 144;
  in a seven-headed snake, 144;
  in a quail, 144 _sq._;
  in a vase, 145 _sq._;
  in a golden sword and a golden arrow, 145;
  in entrails, 147 _sq._;
  in a golden fish, 147 _sq._, 220;
  in a hair as hard as copper, 148;
  in a cat, 150 _sq._;
  in a bear, 151;
  in a buffalo, 151;
  in inanimate things, 153 _sqq._;
  in a hemlock branch, 152;
  in folk-custom, 153 _sqq._;
  in a mountain scaur, 156;
  in ox-horns, 156;
  in roof of house, 156;
  in a tree, 156;
  in a spring of water, 156;
  in capital of column, 156 _sq._;
  in a portrait statue, 157;
  in plants, 159 _sqq._;
  in animals, 196 _sqq._;
  of shaman or medicine-man in animal, 196, 199;
  kept in totem, 220 _sqq._

—— -boxes, amulets as, ii. 155

—— -stones, ii. 156

—— -stuff of ghosts, ii. 182

Soulless King, whose soul was in a duck’s egg, Lithuanian story of the,
            ii. 113 _sqq._

Souls of dead sit round the Midsummer fire, i. 183, 184;
  of people at a house-warming collected in a bag, ii. 153;
  male and female, in Chinese philosophy, 221;
  the plurality of, 221 _sq._;
  human, transmigrate into their totemic animals, 223

Sow, the cropped black, at Hallowe’en, i. 239, 240

Sower, the Wicked, driving away, i. 107, 118

Sowerby, James, on mouse-ear hawk-weed, ii. 57;
  on orpine, 61 _n._ 4;
  on yellow hoary mullein, 64;
  on the Golden Bough, 284 _n._ 3;
  on mistletoe, 316 _n._ 5

Sowing hemp seed, divination by, i. 235

Spachendorf, in Silesia, effigy burnt at, i. 119

Spae-wives and Gestr, Icelandic story of the, ii. 125 _sq._

Spain, Midsummer fires and customs in, i. 208;
  bathing at Midsummer in, ii. 29;
  vervain gathered at Midsummer in, 62

Spark Sunday in Switzerland, i. 118

Sparks of Yule log prognosticate chickens, lambs, foals, calves, etc., i.
            251, 262, 263, 264

Sparrow, external soul of a jinnee in a, ii. 137

Spear used to help women in hard labour, i. 14;
  external soul in a, ii. 105

Speicher, in the Eifel, St. John’s fires at, i. 169

Spell recited at kindling need-fire, i. 290;
  of witchcraft broken by suffering, 304

Spells cast on cattle, i. 301, 302;
  cast by witches on union of man and wife, 346

Spencer (B.) and Gillen (F. J.) on initiation of medicine-man, ii. 238

Spinning-wheel, external soul of ogress in a, ii. 100

Spirit or god of vegetation, effigies of, burnt in spring, ii. 21 _sq._;
  reasons for burning, 23;
  leaf-clad representative of, burnt, 25

Spirits of the hills, their treasures, ii. 69

—— of plants and trees in the form of snakes, ii. 44 _n._ 1

—— of water propitiated at Midsummer, ii. 31

Spree, the river, requires its human victim on Midsummer Day, ii. 26

Spreewald, the Wends of the, ii. 48

Sprenger, the inquisitor, ii. 158

Spring of water, external soul in a, ii. 156

Springs, underground, detected by divining-rod, ii. 67 _sq._

Springwort, mythical plant, procured at Midsummer, ii. 69 _sqq._;
  reveals treasures, opens all locks, and makes the bearer invisible and
              invulnerable, 69 _sq._

Sproat, G. M., on seclusion of girls at puberty, i. 43 _sq._

Spruce trees free from mistletoe, ii. 315

Squeals of pigs necessary for fruitfulness of mangoes, i. 9

Squirrels burnt in the Easter bonfires, i. 142, ii. 40

Stabbing a transformed witch or werewolf in order to compel him or her to
            reveal himself or herself, i. 315

Staffordshire, the Yule log in, i. 256

Stamfordham, in Northumberland, need-fire at, i. 288 _sq._

Starling, external soul of ogress in a, ii. 100

Stebbing, E. B., on _Loranthus vestitus_ in India, ii. 317 _n._ 2

Steinen, Professor K. von den, on the bull-roarer, ii. 233 _n._ 2

_Stelis_, a kind of mistletoe, ii. 317, 318

Sterile beasts passed through Midsummer fires, i. 203, 338

Sternberg, in Mecklenburg, need-fire at, i. 274

Stewart, Jonet, a wise woman, ii. 184

Stewart, W. Grant, on witchcraft, i. 342 _n._ 4

Stheni, near Delphi, ii. 317

Sticks, charred, of bonfires, protect fields against hail, i. 144

——, charred, of Candlemas bonfires, superstitious uses of, i. 131

——, charred, of Easter fire, superstitious uses of, i. 121;
  preserve wheat from blight and mildew, 143

——, charred, of Midsummer bonfires, planted in the fields, i. 165, 166,
            173, 174;
  a charm against lightning and foul weather, 174;
  kept to make the cattle thrive, 180;
  thrown into wells to improve the water, 184;
  a protection against thunder, 184, 192;
  a protection against lightning, 187, 188, 190

——, sacred, whittled, i. 138 _n._ 1

Stiffness of back set down to witchcraft, i. 343 _n._, 345

Stinging girls and young men with ants, i. 61, 62 _sq._

—— with ants as a form of purification, i. 61 _sqq._

_Stipiturus malachurus_, emu-wren, men’s “brother” among the Kurnai, ii.
            216

Stolen kail, divination by, i. 234 _sq._

Stone, look of a girl at puberty thought to turn things to, i. 46;
  the Hairy, at Midsummer, 212;
  external soul in a, ii. 125 _n._ 1, 156;
  precious, external soul of khan in a, 142;
  magical, put into body of novice at initiation, 271

Stones thrown into Midsummer fire, i. 183, 191, 212;
  placed round Midsummer fires, 190;
  carried by persons on their heads at Midsummer, 205, 212;
  at Hallowe’en fires, divination by, 230 _sq._, 239, 240;
  used for curing cattle, 324, 325;
  sick people passed through holes in, ii. 186 _sqq._;
  magical, inserted by spirits in the body of a new medicine-man, 235

Stoole, near Downpatrick, Midsummer ceremony at, i. 205

Stow, John, on Midsummer fires in London, i. 196 _sq._

Strabo, on the Hirpi Sorani, ii. 14;
  on the human sacrifices of the Celts, 32

Strackerjan, L., on fear of witchcraft in Oldenburg, i. 343 _n._

Strap of wolf’s hide used by were-wolves, i. 310 _n._ 1

Strathpeffer, in Ross-shire, i. 153

Strathspey, sheep passed through a hoop of rowan in, ii. 184

Straw tied round trees to make them fruitful, i. 115

Streams, menstruous women not allowed to cross running, i. 97;
  need-fire kindled between two running, 292

Strength of people bound up with their hair, ii. 158 _sq._

Striking or throwing blindfold, ii. 279 _n._ 4

_Striped Petticoat Philosophy, The_, i. 6.

Stromberg Hill, burning wheel rolled down the, i. 163

Strutt, Joseph, on Midsummer fires in England, i. 196

Stseelis Indians of British Columbia, dread and seclusion of menstruous
            women among the, i. 89

Stuart, Mrs. A., on withered mistletoe, ii. 287 _n._ 1

—— Lake in British Columbia, i. 47

Stukeley, W., on a Christmas custom at York, ii. 291 _n._ 2

Styria, fern-seed on Christmas night in, ii. 289

Styx, the passage of Aeneas across the, ii. 294

Subincision at initiation of lads in Australia, ii. 227 _sq._, 234, 235

Sub-totems in Australia, ii. 275 _n._ 1

Sudan, ceremony of new fire in the, i. 134;
  human hyaenas in, 313

Sudeten mountains in Silesia, i. 170

Suffering, intensity of, a means to break the spell of witchcraft, i. 304

Suffolk, belief as to menstruous women in, i. 96 _n._ 2;
  duck baked alive as a sacrifice in, 303 _sq._

Suk of British East Africa, their dread of menstruous women, i. 81

“Sultan of the Oleander,” i. 18

Sumatra, the Minangkabauers of, i. 79;
  the Kooboos of, ii. 162 _n._ 2;
  the Looboos of, 182 _sq._;
  totemism among the Battas of, 222 _sqq._;
  use of bull-roarers in, 229 _n._

Summer, King of, chosen on St. Peter’s Day, i. 195

Sun, rule not to see the, i. 18 _sqq._;
  priest of the, uses a white umbrella, 20 _n._ 1;
  not to shine on girls at puberty, 22, 35, 36, 37, 41, 44, 46, 47, 68;
  not to be seen by Brahman boys for three days, 68 _n._ 2;
  impregnation of women by the, 74 _sq._;
  made to shine on women at marriage, 75;
  sheep and lambs sacrificed to the, 132;
  temple of the, at Cuzco, 132;
  the Birthday of the, at the winter solstice, 246;
  Christmas an old heathen festival of the birth of the, 331 _sq._;
  symbolized by a wheel, 334 _n._ 1, 335;
  in the sign of the lion, ii. 66 _sq._;
  magical virtues of plants at Midsummer derived from the, 71 _sq._;
  in the sign of Sagittarius, 82;
  calls men to himself through death, 173, 174 _n._ 1;
  fern-seed procured by shooting at the sun on Midsummer Day, 291;
  the ultimate cooling of the, 307

Sun-charms, i. 331;
  the solstitial and other ceremonial fires perhaps sun-charms, ii. 292

—— -god, ii. 1, 16

Sundal, in Norway, need-fire in, i. 280

Sunday, children born on a Sunday can see treasures in the earth, ii. 288
            _n._ 5

—— of the Firebrands, i. 110

—— in Lent, the first, fire-festival on the, i. 107 _sqq._

Sung-yang, were-tiger in, i. 310

Sunless, Prince, i. 21

Sunshine, use of fire as a charm to produce, i. 341 _sq._

Superb warbler, called women’s “sister” among the Kurnai, ii. 215 _n._ 1,
            216, 218

Superstitions, Index of, i. 270;
  about trees struck by lightning, ii. 296 _sqq._

Surenthal in Switzerland, new fire made by friction at Midsummer in the,
            i. 169 _sq._

Sûrya, the sun-god, ii. 1

Sussex, cleft ash-trees used for the cure of rupture in, ii. 169 _sq._

Sutherland, the need-fire in, i. 294 _sq._

Sutherlandshire, sept of the Mackays, “the descendants of the seal,” in,
            ii. 131 _sq._

Swabia, “burning the witch” in, i. 116;
  custom of throwing lighted discs in, 116 _sq._;
  Easter fires in, 144 _sq._;
  custom at eclipses in, 162 _n._;
  the Midsummer fires in, 166 _sq._;
  witches as hares and horses in, 318 _sq._;
  the divining-rod in, ii. 68 _n._ 4;
  fern-seed brought by Satan on Christmas night in, 289

Swahili of East Africa, their ceremony of the new fire, i. 133, 140;
  birth-trees among the, ii. 160 _sq._;
  their story of an African Samson, ii. 314

Swallows, stones found in stomachs of, i. 17

Swan-woman, Tartar story of the, ii. 144

Swan’s bone, used by menstruous women to drink out of, i. 48, 49, 50, 90,
            92

Swans’ song in a fairy tale, ii. 124

Swanton, J. R., quoted, i. 45 _n._ 1

Sweden, customs observed on Yule Night in, i. 20 _sq._;
  Easter bonfires in, 146;
  bonfires on the Eve of May Day in, 159, 336;
  Midsummer fires in, 172;
  the need-fire in, 280;
  bathing at Midsummer in, ii. 29;
  “Midsummer Brooms” in, 54;
  the divining-rod in, 69, 291;
  mistletoe to be shot or knocked down with stones in, 82;
  mistletoe a remedy for epilepsy in, 83;
  medical use of mistletoe in, 84;
  mistletoe used as a protection against conflagration in, 85, 293;
  mistletoe cut at Midsummer in, 86;
  mystic properties ascribed to mistletoe on St. John’s Eve in, 86;
  Balder’s balefires in, 87;
  children passed through a cleft oak as a cure for rupture or rickets in,
              170;
  crawling through a hoop as a cure in, 184;
  superstitions about a parasitic rowan in, 281

Switzerland, Lenten fires in, i. 118 _sq._;
  new fire kindled by friction of wood in, 169 _sq._;
  Midsummer fires in, 172;
  the Yule log in, 249;
  need-fire in, 279 _sq._, 336;
  people warned against bathing at Midsummer in, ii. 27;
  the belief in witchcraft in, 42 _n._ 2;
  divination by orpine at Midsummer in, 61

Sympathetic relation between cleft tree and person who has been passed
            through it, ii. 170, 171 _n._ 1, 172;
  between man and animal, 272 _sq._

Syria, restrictions on menstruous women in, i. 84

Syrmia, the Yule log in, i. 262 _sq._

Tabari, Arab chronicler, i. 82

Taboo conceived as a dangerous physical substance which needs to be
            insulated, i. 6 _sq._

Tabooed men, i. 7 _sq._

—— persons kept from contact with the ground, i. 2 _sqq._

—— things kept from contact with the ground, i. 7 _sqq._

—— women, i. 8

Taboos regulating the lives of divine kings, i. 2;
  observed by priest of Earth in Southern Nigeria, 4

Tacitus, on human sacrifices offered by the ancient Germans, ii. 28 _n._
            1;
  on the goddess Nerthus, 28 _n._ 1

Tahiti, king and queen of, not allowed to set foot on the ground, i. 3;
  the fire-walk in, ii. 11

Tahitians, the New Year of the, ii. 244

Tajan and Landak, districts of Dutch Borneo, i. 5, ii. 164

Talbot, P. Amaury, on external human souls in animals, ii. 208 _n._ 1, 209
            _n._ 1

_Talegi_, Motlav word for external soul, ii. 198

Tales of maidens forbidden to see the sun, i. 70 _sqq._

Talismans of cities, i. 83 _n._ 1

Talmud, the, on menstruous women, i. 83

Tamanaks of the Orinoco, their treatment of girls at puberty, i. 61 _n._ 3

_Tamaniu_, external soul in the Mota language, ii. 198 _sq._, 220

Tamarisk, Isfendiyar slain with a branch of a, i. 105

Tami, the, of German New Guinea, their rites of initiation, ii. 239 _sqq._

Tanganyika, Lake, tribes of, i. 24

Tanner, John, and the Shawnee sage, ii. 157

_Tantad_, Midsummer bonfire, i. 183

Taoist treatise on the soul, ii. 221

Tapajos, tributary of the Amazon, i. 62

Taphos besieged by Amphitryo, ii. 103

Tara, new fire in the King’s house at, i. 158

Tar-barrels, burning, swung round pole at Midsummer, i. 169;
  burnt at Midsummer, 180;
  procession with lighted, on Christmas Eve, 268

Tarbolton, in Ayrshire, annual bonfire at, i. 207

Tartar stories of the external soul, ii. 142 _sq._, 144 _sq._

Tartars after a funeral leap over fire, ii. 18

Tattooing, medicinal use of, i. 98 _n._ 1;
  at initiation, ii. 258, 259, 261 _n._

Tay, Loch, i. 232

Tcheou, dynasty of China, i. 137

Teak, _Loranthus_ on, ii. 317

Teanlas, Hallowe’en fires in Lancashire, i. 245

Teeth filed as preliminary to marriage, i. 68 _n._ 2

Tegner, Swedish poet, on the burning of Balder, ii. 87

_Tein Econuch_, “forlorn fire,” need-fire, i. 292

_Tein-eigin_ (_teine-eigin_, _tin-egin_), need-fire, i. 147, 148, 289,
            291, 293

_Teine Bheuil_, fire of Beul, need-fire, i. 293

Tent burnt at Midsummer, i. 215

Termonde in Belgium, Midsummer fires at, i. 194

Tessier, on the burning wheel at Konz, i. 164 _n._ 1

Tests undergone by girls at puberty, i. 25

Teutates, Celtic god, ii. 80 _n._ 3

Teutonic stories of the external soul, ii. 116 _sqq._

Texas, the Toukaway Indians of, ii. 276

_Thahu_, curse or pollution, i. 81

Thays of Tonquin, their customs after a burial, ii. 177 _sq._

Thebes, in Greece, effigies of Judas burnt at Easter in, i. 130 _sq._

Theodore, Archbishop of Canterbury, his denunciation of a heathen
            practice, ii. 190 _sq._

Theophrastus on the different kinds of mistletoe, ii. 317

Therapia, effigies of Judas burnt at Easter in, i. 131

Thief wears a toad’s heart to escape detection, i. 302 _n._ 2

Thiers, J. B., on the Yule log, i. 250;
  on gathering herbs at Midsummer, ii. 45 _n._ 1;
  on belief concerning wormwood, 61 _n._ 1

Thieves detected by divining-rod, ii. 68

Thighs of diseased cattle cut off and hung up as a remedy, i. 296 _n._ 1

Thirty years’ cycle of the Druids, ii. 77

Thlinkeet Indians. _See_ Tlingit

Thomas, N. W., ii. 210 _n._ 2

Thomas the Rhymer, verses ascribed to, ii. 283 _sq._

Thompson Indians of British Columbia, seclusion of girls at puberty among
            the, i. 49 _sqq._;
  their dread of menstruous women, 89 _sq._;
  prayer of adolescent girl among the, 98 _n._ 1;
  supposed invulnerability of initiated men among the, ii. 275 _sq._;
  their ideas as to wood of trees struck by lightning, 297

Thomsdorf, in Germany, i. 99

Thomson, Basil, ii. 244 _n._ 1, 2

Thonga, the, of Delagoa Bay, seclusion of girls at puberty among the, i.
            29 _sq._;
  will not use the wood of trees struck by lightning, ii. 297;
  think lightning caused by a bird, 297 _n._ 5

Thor, a Norse god, i. 103

Thorn, external soul in a, ii. 129;
  mistletoe on a, 291 _n._ 3

—— bushes used to keep off ghosts, ii. 174 _sq._

Thought, the web of, ii. 307 _sq._

Threatening fruit-trees, i. 114

Three Holy Kings, the divining-rod baptized in the name of the, ii. 68
—— leaps over bonfire, i. 214, 215

Threshold, shavings from the, burnt, ii. 53

Thrice to crawl under a bramble as a cure, ii. 180;
  to pass through a wreath of woodbine, 184

Throwing or striking blindfold, ii. 279 _n._ 4

Thrumalun, a mythical being who kills and resuscitates novices at
            initiation, ii. 233.
  _See also_ Daramulun _and_ Thuremlin

Thrushes deposit seeds of mistletoe, ii. 316 _n._ 1

Thunder associated with the oak, i. 145;
  Midsummer fires a protection against, 176;
  charred sticks of Midsummer bonfire a protection against, 184, 192;
  ashes of Midsummer fires a protection against, 190;
  brands from the Midsummer fires a protection against, 191;
  certain flowers at Midsummer a protection against, ii. 54, 58, 59;
  the sound of bull-roarers thought to imitate, 228 _sqq._
  _See also_ Lightning

Thunder and lightning, the Yule log a protection against, i. 248, 249,
            250, 252, 253, 254, 258, 264;
  bonfires a protection against, 344;
  smoke of Midsummer herbs a protection against, ii. 48;
  vervain a protection against, 62;
  name given to bull-roarers, 231 _sq._

—— and the oak, the Aryan god of the, i. 265

“—— -besom,” name applied to mistletoe and other bushy excrescences on
            trees, ii. 85, 301;
  a protection against thunderbolts, 85

—— -bird, the mythical, i. 44

“—— -bolts,” name given to celts, i. 14 _sq._

“—— -poles,” oak sticks charred in Easter bonfires, i. 145

Thunderstorms and hail caused by witches, i. 344;
  Midsummer flowers a protection against, ii. 48

Thuremlin, a mythical being who kills lads at initiation and restores them
            to life, ii. 227.
  _See also_ Daramulun

Thuringia, custom at eclipses in, i. 162 _n._;
  Midsummer fires in, 169, ii. 40;
  Schweina in, i. 265;
  belief as to magical properties of the fern in, ii. 66 _sq._

Thursday, Maundy, i. 125 _n._ 1

Thurso, witches as cats at, i. 317

Thurston, E., on the fire-walk, ii. 9

Thyme burnt in Midsummer fire, i. 213;
  wild, gathered on Midsummer Day, ii. 64

Tibet, sixty years’ cycle in, ii. 78 _n._

Ticunas of the Amazon, ordeal of young men among the, i. 62 _sq._

Tiger, a Batta totem, ii. 223

Tiger’s skin at inauguration of a king, i. 4

Timmes of Sierra Leone, their secret society, ii. 260 _n._ 1

Tinneh Indians, seclusion of girls at puberty among the, i. 47 _sqq._;
  their dread and seclusion of menstruous women, 91 _sqq._

Tinnevelly, the Kappiliyans of, i. 69

Tipperary, county of, were-wolves in, i. 310 _n._ 1;
  woman burnt as a witch in, 323 _sq._

Tiree, the need-fire in, i. 148;
  the Beltane cake in, 149;
  witch as sheep in, 316

_Tivor_, god or victim, i. 103 _n._

Tiyans of Malabar, their seclusion of girls at puberty, i. 68 _sq._

Tlactga or Tlachtga in Ireland, i. 139

Tlingit (Thlinkeet) Indians of Alaska, seclusion of girls at puberty among
            the, i. 45 _sq._

Tlokoala, a secret society of the Nootka Indians, ii. 271

Toad, witch in form of a, i. 323

—— clan, ii. 273

—— -stools thrown into Midsummer bonfires as a charm, i. 172

Toad’s heart worn by a thief to prevent detection, i. 302 _n._ 2

Toads burnt alive in Devonshire, i. 302

Toaripi of New Guinea, their rule as to menstruous women, i. 84

Tobas, Indian tribe of the Gran Chaco, their custom of secluding girls at
            puberty, i. 59

Tobelorese of Halmahera, their rites of initiation, ii. 248

Toboengkoe, the, of Central Celebes, custom observed by widower among the,
            ii. 178 _sq._

_Tocandeira_, native name for the _Cryptocerus atratus_, F., ant, i. 62

Todas of the Neilgherry Hills, their ceremony of the new fire, i. 136

Tokio, the fire-walk at, ii. 9 _sq._

Tokoelawi of Central Celebes, custom observed by mourners among the, ii.
            178

Tomori, the Gulf of, in Celebes, i. 312

Tongue of medicine-man, hole in, ii. 238, 239

Tonquin, the Thays of, their burial customs, ii. 177 _sq._

_Tonwan_, magical influence of medicine-bag, ii. 268, 269

Tooth of novice knocked out at initiation, ii. 227, 235

Toradjas of Central Celebes, were-wolves among the, i. 311 _sq._;
  their custom at the smelting of iron, ii. 154

Torch-races at Easter, i. 142;
  at Midsummer, 175

Torches interpreted as imitations of lightning, i. 340 _n._ 1

——, burning, carried round folds and lands at Midsummer, i. 206;
  applied to fruit-trees to fertilize them, 340

—— of Demeter, i. 340

——, processions with lighted, i. 141, 141 _sq._, 233 _sq._;
  through fields, gardens, orchards, and streets, 107 _sq._, 110 _sqq._,
              113 _sqq._, 179, 339 _sq._;
  at Midsummer, 179;
  on Christmas Eve, 266

Torres Straits Islands, seclusion of girls at puberty in the, i. 36 _sq._,
            39 _sqq._;
  dread and seclusion of women at menstruation in the, 78 _sq._;
  use of bull-roarers in the, ii. 228 _n._ 2, 232

Tortoises, external human souls lodged in, ii. 204

Torture, judicial, of criminals, witches, and wizards, ii. 158 _sq._

Totem, transference of man’s soul to his, ii. 219 _n._, 225 _sq._;
  supposed effect of killing a, 220;
  the receptacle in which a man keeps his external soul, 220 _sqq._;
  the individual or personal, 222 _n._ 5, 224 _n._ 1, 226 _n._ 1
  _See also_ Sex totem

—— animal, artificial, novice at initiation brought back by, ii. 271
            _sq._;
  transformation of man into his, 275

—— clans and secret societies, related to each other, ii. 272 _sq._

—— names kept secret, ii. 225 _n._

—— plants among the Fans, ii. 161

Totemism, suggested theory of, ii. 218 _sqq._

Totems, honorific, of the Carrier Indians, ii. 273 _sqq._;
  personal, among the North American Indians, 273, 276 _n._ 1;
  multiplex, of the Australians, 275 _n._ 1

Touch of menstruous women thought to convey pollution, i. 87, 90

Toukaway Indians of Texas, ceremony of mimic wolves among the, ii. 276

Toulouse, torture of sorcerers at, ii. 158

Touraine, Midsummer fires in, i. 182

Train, Joseph, on Beltane fires in Isle of Man, i. 157

Transference of a man’s soul to his totem, ii. 219 _n._, 225 _sq._

Transformation of men into wolves at the full moon, i. 314 _n._ 1;
  of witches into animals, 315 _sqq._, ii. 311 _sq._;
  of men into animals, 207;
  of man into his totem animal, 275

Transmigration of soul of ruptured person into cleft oak-tree, ii. 172;
  of human souls into totem animals, 223

Transylvania, the Roumanians of, i. 13;
  story of the external soul among the Saxons of, ii. 116;
  belief as to children born on a Sunday in, 288 _n._ 5

Travancore, women deemed liable to be attacked by demons in, i. 24 _n._ 2;
  the Pulayars of, 69

Travexin, in the Vosges, witch as hare at, i. 318

Treasures guarded by demons, ii. 65;
  found by means of fern-seed, 65, 287;
  discovered by divining-rod, 68;
  revealed by springwort, 70;
  revealed by mistletoe, 287, 291;
  bloom in the earth on Midsummer Eve, 288 _n._ 5

Trebius, on the springwort, ii. 71

Tree burnt in the Midsummer bonfire, i. 173 _sq._, 180, 183;
  external soul in a, ii. 102, 156

—— -creeper (_Climacteris scandens_), women’s “sister” among the Yuin, ii.
            216

—— -spirit, effigies of, burnt in bonfires, ii. 21 _sqq._;
  human representatives of, put to death, 25;
  human representative of the, perhaps originally burnt at the
              fire-festivals, 90

—— spirits bless women with offspring, ii. 22;
  in the form of serpents, 44 _n._ 1

Trees, men changed into, by look of menstruous women, i. 79;
  burnt in spring fires, 115 _sq._, 116, 142;
  burnt in Midsummer fires, 173 _sq._, 185, 192, 193, 209;
  burnt at Holi festival in India, ii. 2;
  burnt in bonfires, 22;
  lives of people bound up with, 159 _sqq._;
  hair of children tied to, 165;
  the fate of families or individuals bound up with, 165 _sqq._;
  creeping through cleft trees as cure for various maladies, 170 _sqq._;
  fire thought by savages to be stored like sap in, 295;
  struck by lightning, superstitions about, 296 _sqq._

—— and plants as life-indices, ii. 160 _sqq._

_Tréfoir_, the Yule log, i. 249

_Tréfouet_, the Yule log, i. 252 _n._ 2, 253

Tregonan, in Cornwall, Midsummer fires on, i. 199

Trench cut in ground at Beltane, i. 150, 152

Trevelyan, Marie, on Midsummer fires, i. 201;
  on Hallowe’en, 226 _n._ 1;
  on St. John’s wort in Wales, ii. 55 _n._ 2;
  on burnt sacrifices in Wales, 301

Treves, the archbishop of, i. 118

Triangle of reeds, passage of mourners through a, ii. 177 _sq._

Trie-Chateau, dolmen near Gisors, ii. 188

Trilles, Father H., on the theory of the external soul among the Fans, ii.
            201

Trinidad, the fire-walk in, ii. 11

Triumphal arch, suggested origin of the, ii. 195

Trolls, efforts to keep off the, i. 146;
  and evil spirits abroad on Midsummer Eve, 172;
  Midsummer flowers a protection against, ii. 54;
  rendered powerless by mistletoe, 86, 283, 294

True Steel, whose heart was in a bird, ii. 110 _sq._

Trumpets sounded at initiation of young men, ii. 249

—— penny, at the feast of the Nativity of the Virgin, i. 221, 222

Tsetsaut tribe of British Columbia, seclusion of girls at puberty among
            the, i. 46

Tsimshian girls at puberty, rules observed by, i. 44 _n._ 2

Tubuan or Tubuvan, man disguised as cassowary in Duk-duk ceremonies, ii.
            247

Tugeri or Kaya-Kaya of Dutch New Guinea, ii. 242;
  their use of bull-roarers, 242 _sq._

Tui Nkualita, a Fijian chief, founder of the fire-walk, ii. 11

_Tulsi_ plant, its miraculous virtue, ii. 5

Tummel, the valley of the, i. 231

Tunis, New Year fires at, i. 217;
  gold sickle and fillet said to be found in, ii. 80 _n._ 3

Tunnel, creeping through a, as a remedy for an epidemic, i. 283 _sq._

Turf, sick children and cattle passed through holes in, ii. 191

Turks of Siberia, marriage custom of the, i. 75

Turukhinsk region, Samoyeds of the, ii. 196

Tutu, island of Torres Strait, treatment of girls at puberty in, i. 41

Twanyirika, a spirit whose voice is heard in the sound of the bull-roarer,
            ii. 233 _sq._;
  kills and resuscitates lads at initiation, 234

Twelfth Day, Eve of, the bonfires of, i. 107;
  processions with torches on, 340

—— Night, the King of the Bean on, i. 153 _n._ 3;
  cake, 184;
  the Yule log on, 248, 250, 251;
  the divining-rod cut on, ii. 68

Twelve Nights, remains of Yule log scattered on fields during the, i. 248;
  between Christmas and Epiphany, were-wolves abroad during the, 310 _n._
              1

“Twice born” Brahman, ii. 276

Twin brothers in ritual, i. 278

—— -producing virtue ascribed to a kind of mistletoe, ii. 79

Twins and their afterbirths counted as four children, ii. 162 _n._ 2

Twins, father of, i. 24

Two Brothers, ancient Egyptian story of the, ii. 134 _sqq._

Tyrol, “burning the witch” in the, i. 116;
  fires to burn the witches in the, 160;
  Midsummer fires in the, 172 _sq._;
  magical plants culled on Midsummer Eve in the, ii. 47;
  St. John’s wort in the, 54;
  mountain arnica gathered at Midsummer in the, 58;
  use of four-leaved clover in the, 62 _sq._;
  dwarf-elder gathered at Midsummer in the, 64;
  the divining-rod in the, 68;
  mistletoe used to open all locks in the, 85;
  belief as to mistletoe growing on a hazel in the, 291 _n._ 3

Tyrolese peasants use fern-seed to discover buried gold and to prevent
            money from decreasing, ii. 288

—— story of a girl who was forbidden to see the sun, i. 72

Ualaroi, the, of the Darling River, their belief as to initiation, ii. 233

Uaupes of Brazil, seclusion of girls at puberty among the, i. 61

Uganda, kings of, not allowed to set foot on ground, i. 3 _sq._;
  life of the king of, bound up with barkcloth trees, ii. 160;
  passage of sick man through a cleft stick or a narrow opening in, 181
              _sq._;
  cure for lightning-stroke in, 298 _n._ 2
  _See also_ Baganda

Uisnech, in County Meath, great fair at, i. 158

Uist, Beltane cakes in, i. 154

——, North, need-fire in, i. 293 _sq._

——, South, fairies at Hallowe’en in, i. 226;
  salt cake at Hallowe’en in, 238 _sq._

Uiyumkwi tribe, their treatment of girls at puberty, i. 39 _sq._

Ukami, in German East Africa, ii. 313

_Ukpong_, external soul in Calabar, ii. 206

Ulad Bu Aziz, Arab tribe in Morocco, their Midsummer fires, i. 214

Umbrellas in ritual, i. 20 _n._ 1, 31

Uncleanness, ceremonial, among the Indians of Costa Rica, i. 65 _n._ 1;
  and sanctity not clearly differentiated in the primitive mind, 97 _sq._

Uncleanness of women at menstruation, i. 76 _sqq._
  _See also_ Menstruous

Unguent made from fat of crocodiles and snakes, i. 14

Universal healer, name given to mistletoe, ii. 77

Unlucky, Midsummer Day regarded as, ii. 29

—— children passed through narrow openings, ii. 190

Unmasking a were-wolf or witch by wounding him or her, i. 315, 321

Unmatjera tribe of Central Australia, their rites of initiation, ii. 234;
  initiation of a medicine-man in the, 238

Up-helly-a’, at Lerwick, i. 269 _n._

Uraons. _See_ Oraons

Urabunna tribe of Central Australia, their rites of initiation, ii. 234

_Ustrels_, a species of vampyre in Bulgaria, i. 284

Vagney, in the Vosges, Christmas custom at, i. 254

Vagueness and inconsistency of primitive thought, ii. 301 _sq._

Val di Ledro, effigy burnt in the, at Carnival, i. 120

Valais, the canton of, Midsummer fires in, i. 172;
  cursing a mist in, 280

Valenciennes, Lenten fire-custom at, i. 114 _n._ 4

Valentines at bonfires, i. 109 _sq._

Vallancey, General Charles, on Hallowe’en customs in Ireland, i. 241 _sq._

Vallée des Bagnes, cursing a mist in the, i. 280

Vampyres, need-fire kindled as a safeguard against, i. 284 _sqq._, 344

Vapour bath, i. 40

Var, Midsummer fires in the French department of, i. 193

Varro, on the fire-walk of the Hirpi Sorani, ii. 14 _n._ 3

Vase, external soul of habitual criminal in a, ii. 145 _sq._

Vecoux, in the Vosges, i. 254

Vedic hymns, the fire-god Agni in the, ii. 295 _sq._

Vegetables at Midsummer, their fertilizing influence on women, ii. 51

Vegetation, spirit of, burnt in effigy, ii. 21 _sq._;
  reasons for burning, 23;
  leaf-clad representative of, burnt, 25

—— -spirits, W. Mannhardt’s view that the victims burnt by the Druids
            represented, ii. 43

Velten, C., on an African Balder, ii. 312 _sq._

_Verbascum_, mullein, gathered at Midsummer, ii. 63 _sq._;
  its relation to the sun, 64

_Verbena officinalis_, vervain, gathered at Midsummer, ii. 62

Verges, in the Jura, Lenten fire-custom at, i. 114 _sq._

Vermin exorcized with torches, i. 340

_Versipellis_, a were-wolf, i. 314 _n._ 1

Vervain, garlands or chaplets of, at Midsummer, i. 162, 163, 165;
  burnt in the Midsummer fires, 195;
  used in exorcism, ii. 62 _n._ 4;
  a protection against thunder and lightning, sorcerers, demons, and
              thieves, 62;
  gathered at Midsummer, 62

Vespasian family, the oak of the, ii. 168

Vesper-bell on Midsummer Eve, ii. 62

Vessels, special, used by menstruous women, i. 86, 90;
  used by girls at puberty, 93

Vesta, sacred fire in the temple of, annually kindled, i. 138;
  the fire of, at Rome, fed with oak-wood, ii. 91, 286

Vestal Virgins relit the sacred fire of Vesta, i. 138;
  their rule of celibacy, 138 _n._ 5

Vestini, the ancient, i. 209

Veth, P. J., on the Golden Bough, ii. 319

Victims, human, claimed by St. John on St. John’s Day (Midsummer Day), i.
            27, 29;
  claimed by water at Midsummer, ii. 26 _sqq._

Victoria, aborigines of, their custom as to emu fat, i. 13;
  their dread of women at menstruation, 77 _sq._

—— sex totems in, ii. 217

Vidovec in Croatia, Midsummer fires at, i. 178

Vienne, department of, Midsummer fires in the, i. 191;
  the Yule log in, 251

_Vilavou_, New Year’s Men, name given to newly initiated lads in Fiji, ii.
            244

Village surrounded with a ring of fire as a protection against an evil
            spirit, i. 282

Vimeux, Lenten fires at, i. 113

Vintage, omens of, i. 164

Vipers sacred to balsam trees in Arabia, ii. 44 _n._ 1

Virbius at Nemi interpreted as an oak-spirit, ii. 295

Virgil, on the fire-walk of the Hirpi Sorani, ii. 14;
  his account of the Golden Bough, 284 _sq._, 286, 293 _sq._, 315 _sqq._

Virgin, the, blesses the fruits of the earth, i. 118;
  the hair of the Holy, found in ashes of Midsummer fire, 182 _sq._, 191;
  feast of the Nativity of the, 220 _sq._;
  and child supposed to sit on the Yule log, 253 _sq._

Virgins of the Sun at Cuzco, i. 132;
  the Vestal, and the sacred fire, 136

Virginia, rites of initiation among the Indians of, ii. 266 _sq._

Virginity, test of, by blowing up a flame, i. 137 _n._

Virility supposed to be lost by contact with menstruous women, i. 81

_Viscum album_, common mistletoe, ii. 315 _sqq._;
  _Viscum quernum_, 317

Visiter, the Christmas, i. 261 _sq._, 263, 264

Viti Levu, the largest of the Fijian Islands, ii. 243

Vitrolles, bathing at Midsummer in, i. 194

Vogel Mountains, i. 118

Voigtland, bonfires on Walpurgis Night in, i. 160;
  tree and person thrown into water on St. John’s Day in, ii. 27 _sq._;
  divination by flowers on Midsummer Eve in, 53;
  mountain arnica gathered at Midsummer in, 57 _sq._;
  wild thyme gathered at Midsummer in, 64;
  precautions against witches in, 73 _sq._

Volga, the Cheremiss of the, i. 181

Volksmarsen in Hesse, Easter fires at, i. 140

_Voluspa_, the Sibyl’s prophecy in the, i. 102 _sq._

Voralberg, in the Tyrol, “burning the witch” at, i. 116

Vorges, near Laon, Midsummer fires at, i. 187

Vosges, Midsummer fires in the, i. 188, 336;
  the Yule log in the, 254;
  cats burnt alive on Shrove Tuesday in the, ii. 40

—— Mountains, Lenten fires in the, i. 109;
  witches as hares in the, 318;
  magic herbs culled on Eve of St. John in the, ii. 47

_Vrid-eld_, need-fire, i. 280

Vultures, lives of persons bound up with those of, ii. 201, 202

Wadai, ceremony of the new fire in, i. 134, 140

Wadoe, the, of German East Africa, ii. 312

Wafiomi, seclusion of girls at puberty among the, i. 28

Wagstadt in Silesia, Judas ceremony at, i. 146 _n._ 3

Wajagga, the, of German East Africa, birth-plants among the, ii. 160

Wakelbura tribe (Australia), dread and seclusion of women at menstruation
            in the, i. 78

Wakondyo, their custom as to the afterbirth, ii. 162 _sq._

Wales, Snake Stones in, i. 15 _sq._;
  Beltane fires and cakes in, 155 _sq._;
  Midsummer fires in, 200 _sq._;
  divination at Hallowe’en in, 229, 240 _sq._;
  Hallowe’en fires in, 239 _sq._;
  the Yule log in, 258;
  burnt sacrifices to stop cattle-disease in, 301;
  witches as hares in, 315 _n._ 1;
  belief as to witches in, 321 _n._ 2;
  bewitched things burnt in, 322;
  divination by flowers on Midsummer Eve in, ii. 53;
  St. John’s wort in, 55;
  mistletoe to be shot or knocked down with stones in, 82;
  mistletoe cut at Midsummer in, 86;
  mistletoe used to make the dairy thrive in, 86;
  Beltane fire kindled by the friction of oak-wood in, 91;
  mistletoe gathered at Midsummer in, 293

Walhalla, i. 101

Walking over fire as a rite, ii. 3 _sqq._

Walls, fortified, of the ancient Gauls, i. 267 _sq._

Walnut, branches of, passed across Midsummer fires and fastened on
            cattle-sheds, i. 191

Walos of Senegambia, their belief as to a sort of mistletoe, ii. 79 _sq._

Walpi, Pueblo Indian village, use of bull-roarers at, ii. 231

Walpurgis Day, i. 143

—— Night, witches abroad on, i. 159 _sq._;
  a witching time, 295;
  precautions against witches on, ii. 20 _n._;
  witches active on, 73, 74

Wangen in Baden, Lenten fire-custom at, i. 117

Wanyamwezi, their belief as to wounded crocodiles, ii. 210 _n._ 1

Warlock, the invulnerable, stories of, ii. 97 _sqq._

Warriors tabooed, i. 5

Warwickshire, the Yule log in, i. 257

Washamba, the, of German East Africa, their custom at circumcision, ii.
            183

Washington State, seclusion of girls at puberty among the Indians of, i.
            43

Wasmes, processions with torches at, i. 108

Wasp, external soul of enchanter in a, ii. 143

Wasps, young men stung with, as an ordeal, i. 63

Wassgow mountains, the need-fire in the, i. 271

Water from sacred wells, i. 12;
  menstruous women not to go near, 77;
  consecrated at Easter, 122 _sqq._, 125;
  turned to wine at Easter, 124;
  improved by charred sticks of Midsummer fires, 184;
  at Midsummer, people drenched with, 193 _sq._;
  heated in need-fire and sprinkled on cattle, 289;
  claims human victims at Midsummer, ii. 26 _sqq._;
  supposed to acquire certain marvellous properties at Midsummer, 29
              _sqq._;
  haunted and dangerous at Midsummer, 31

Water of life, ii. 114 _sq._

—— of springs thought to acquire medicinal qualities on Midsummer Eve, i.
            172

——, rites of, at Midsummer festival in Morocco, i. 216;
  at New Year in Morocco, 218

—— spirits, offerings to, at Midsummer, ii. 28

Wayanas of French Guiana, ordeals among the, i. 63 _sq._

Weariness, magical plants placed in shoes a charm against, ii. 54, 60

Weaver, the wicked, of Rotenburg, ii. 289 _sq._

Weeks, Rev. John H., on rites of initiation on the Lower Congo, ii. 255
            _n._ 1

Weeping of girl at puberty, i. 24, 29

Weidenhausen, in Westphalia, the Yule log at, i. 248

Wells, sacred, in Scotland, i. 12;
  menstruous women kept from, 81, 96 _sq._;
  charred sticks of Midsummer fires thrown into, 184;
  crowned with flowers at Midsummer, ii. 28

——, holy, resorted to on Midsummer Eve in Ireland, i. 205 _sq._

——, the Lord of the, ii. 28

Welsh cure for whooping-cough, ii. 180, 192 _n._ 1

—— name, alleged, for mistletoe, ii. 286 _n._ 3
  _See also_ Wales

Wends, their faith in Midsummer herbs, ii. 54

—— of Saxony, their idea as to wood of trees struck by lightning, ii. 297

—— of the Spreewald gather herbs and flowers at Midsummer, ii. 48;
  their belief as to the divining-rod, 68 _n._ 4

Wensley-dale, the Yule log in, i. 256

Were-tigers in China and the East Indies, i. 310 _sq._, 313 _n._ 1

—— -wolf, how a man becomes a, i. 310 _n._ 1;
  story in Petronius, 313 _sq._

—— -wolves compelled to resume their human shape by wounds inflicted on
            them, i. 308 _sqq._;
  put to death, 311;
  and the full moon, 314 _n._ 1;
  and witches, parallelism between, 315, 321

Werner, Miss Alice, on a soul-box, ii. 156 _n._ 1;
  on African Balders, 314

Westenberg, J. C., on the Batta theory of souls, ii. 223 _n._ 2

Westermarck, Dr. Edward, on New Year rites in Morocco, i. 218;
  on Midsummer festival in North Africa, 219;
  his theory that the fires of the fire-festivals are purificatory, 329
              _sq._;
  on water at Midsummer, ii. 31

Westphalia, Easter fires in, i. 140;
  the Yule log in, 248;
  divination by orpine at Midsummer in, ii. 61;
  camomile gathered at Midsummer in, 63;
  the Midsummer log of oak in, 92 _n._ 1

Wetteren, wicker giants at, ii. 35

_Wetterpfähle_, oak sticks charred in Easter bonfires, i. 145

Wexford, Midsummer fires in, i. 203

Whalton, in Northumberland, Midsummer fires at, i. 198

Wheat thrown on the man who brings in the Christmas log, i. 260, 262, 264;
  protected against mice by mugwort, ii. 58 _sq._

Wheel, fire kindled by the rotation of a, i. 177, 179, 270, 273, 289
            _sq._, 292, 335 _sq._, ii. 91;
  as a symbol of the sun, i. 334 _n._ 1, 335;
  as a charm against witchcraft, 345 _n._ 3

——, burning, rolled down hill, i. 116, 117 _sq._, 119, 141, 143, 161, 162
            _sq._, 163 _sq._, 166, 173, 174, 201, 328, 334, 337 _sq._,
            338;
  thrown into the air at Midsummer, 179;
  rolled over fields at Midsummer to fertilize them, 191, 340 _sq._;
  perhaps intended to burn witches, 345

Wherry, Mrs., i. 108 _n._ 2, ii. 36 _n._ 1

Whips cracked to drive away witches, ii. 74

Whitby, the Yule log at, i. 256

White, Rev. G. E., on passing through a ring of red-hot iron, ii. 186;
  on passing sheep through a rifted rock, 189 _sq._

White birds, ten, external soul in, ii. 142

—— bulls sacrificed by Druids at cutting the mistletoe, ii. 77

—— chalk, bodies of newly initiated lads coated with, ii. 241

—— clay, bodies of novices at initiation smeared with, ii. 255 _n._ 1, 257

—— cloth, fern-seed caught in a, i. 65, ii. 291;
  springwort caught in a, i. 70;
  mistletoe caught in a, ii. 77, 293;
  used to catch the Midsummer bloom of the oak, 292, 293

—— cock burnt in Midsummer bonfire, ii. 40

—— herb, external souls of two brothers in a, ii. 143

—— horse, effigy of, carried through Midsummer fire, i. 203

—— Sunday, i. 117 _n._ 1

Whiteborough, in Cornwall, Midsummer fires on, i. 199

Whooping-cough cured by crawling under a bramble, ii. 180;
  Bulgarian cure for, 181;
  child passed under an ass as a cure for, 192

Wicked Sower, driving away the, i. 107, 118

Wicken (rowan) tree, a protection against witchcraft, i. 326, 327 _n._ 1

Wicker giants at popular festivals in Europe, ii. 33 _sqq._;
  burnt in summer bonfires, 38

Wiesensteig, in Swabia, witch as horse at, i. 319

“Wild fire,” the need-fire, i. 272, 273, 277

Wilde, Lady, her description of Midsummer fires in Ireland, i. 204 _sq._

Wilken, G. A., on the external soul, ii. 96 _n._ 1

Wilkes, Charles, on seclusion of girls at puberty, i. 43

Will-fire, or need-fire, i. 288, 297

Willow, mistletoe growing on, ii. 79, 315, 316;
  children passed through a cleft willow-tree as a cure, 170;
  crawling through a hoop of willow branches as a cure, 184;
  crawling under the root of a willow as a cure, 181;
  Orpheus and the, 294

Wimmer, F., on the various sorts of mistletoe known to the ancients, ii.
            318

Winamwanga, seclusion of girls at puberty among the, i. 24 _sq._;
  their custom as to lightning-kindled fire, ii. 297 _sq._

Wind, bull-roarers sounded to raise a, ii. 232

Window, magic flowers to be passed through the, ii. 52

Wine thought to be spoiled by menstruous women, i. 96

Winenthal in Switzerland, new fire made by friction at Midsummer in the,
            i. 169 _sq._

Winnebagoes, ritual of death and resurrection among the, ii. 268

Winnowing-basket, divination by, i. 236

Winter solstice, Persian festival of fire at the, i. 269

“Winter’s Grandmother,” burning the, i. 116

Winterbottom, Thomas, on a secret society of Sierra Leone, ii. 260

Wintun Indians of California, seclusion of girls among the, i. 42 _sq._

Witch, burning the, i. 116, 118 _sq._;
  effigy of, burnt in bonfire, 159;
  compelled to appear by burning an animal or part of an animal which she
              has bewitched, 303, 305, 307 _sq._, 321 _sq._;
  in form of a toad, 323.
  _See also_ Witches

Witch, MacCrauford, the great arch, i. 293

“—— -shot,” a sudden stiffness in the back, i. 343 _n._, 345

Witch’s herb, St. John’s wort, ii. 56 _n._ 1

“—— nest,” a tangle of birch-branches, ii. 185

Witchcraft, bonfires a protection against, i. 108, 109;
  holy water a protection against, 123;
  cattle driven through Midsummer fire as a protection against, 175;
  burs and mugwort a preservative against, 177, ii. 59 _sq._;
  Midsummer fires a protection against, i. 185, 188;
  a broom a protection against, 210;
  need-fire kindled to counteract, 280, 292 _sq._, 293, 295;
  in Devonshire, 302;
  great dread of, in Europe, 340;
  the fire-festivals regarded as a protection against, 342;
  stiffness in the back attributed to, 343 _n._, 345;
  colic and sore eyes attributed to, 344;
  a wheel a charm against, 345 _n._;
  thought to be the source of almost all calamities, ii. 19 _sq._;
  leaping over bonfires as a protection against, 40;
  its treatment by the Christian Church, 42;
  and sorcery, Midsummer herbs and flowers a protection against, 45, 46,
              49, 54, 55, 59, 60, 62, 64, 65, 66, 67, 72;
  St. John’s wort a protection against, 54;
  dwarf-elder used to detect, 64;
  fern root a protection against, 67;
  mistletoe a protection against, 85 _sq._, 282, 283, 294;
  fatal to milk and butter, 86;
  oak log a protection against, 92;
  the rowan a protection against, i. 327 _n._ 1, ii. 184 _n._ 4, 185, 281;
  children passed through a ring of yarn as a protection against, 185;
  a “witch’s nest” (tangle of birch-branches) a protection against, 185.
  _See also_ Sorcery

Witches not allowed to touch the bare ground, i. 5 _sq._;
  burnt and beheaded, 6;
  effigies of, burnt in bonfires, 107, 116 _sq._, 118 _sq._, 342, ii. 43;
  charm to protect fields against, i. 121;
  Beltane fires a protection against, 154;
  cast spells on cattle, 154;
  steal milk from cows, 154, 176, 343, ii. 74;
  in the form of hares and cats, i. 157, 315 _n._ 1, 316 _sqq._, 317, 318,
              319 _sq._, ii. 41, 311;
  burnt on May Day, i. 157, 159, 160;
  fires to burn the witches on the Eve of May Day (Walpurgis Night), 159
              _sq._, ii. 20 _n._;
  abroad on Walpurgis Night, i. 159 _sq._;
  kept out by crosses, 160 _n._ 1;
  driving away the, 160, 170, 171;
  resort to the Blocksberg, 171;
  Midsummer fires a protection against, 176, 180;
  steal milk and butter at Midsummer, 185;
  on Midsummer Eve, 210, ii. 19;
  active on Hallowe’en and May Day, 19, 73 _sqq._, 184 _n._ 4, 185;
  burnt in Hallowe’en fires, i. 232 _sq._;
  abroad at Hallowe’en, 226, 245;
  the Yule log a protection against, 258;
  thought to  cause cattle disease, 302 _sq._;
  transformed into animals, 315 _sqq._;
  as cockchafers, 322;
  come to borrow, 322, 323, ii. 73;
  cause hail and thunder-storms, i. 344;
  brought down from the clouds by shots and smoke, 345 _sq._;
  burning missiles hurled at, 345;
  burnt or banned by fire, ii. 19 _sq._;
  gather noxious plants on Midsummer Eve, 47;
  gather St. John’s wort on St. John’s Eve, 56;
  purple loosestrife a protection against, 65;
  tortured in India, 159;
  animal familiars of, 202.
  _See also_ “Burning the Witches”

Witches at Ipswich, i. 304 _sq._

—— and hares in Yorkshire, ii. 197

—— and were-wolves, parallelism between, i. 315. 321

—— and wizards thought to keep their strength in their hair, ii. 158
            _sq._;
  put to death by the Aztecs, 159

—— and wolves the two great foes dreaded by herdsmen in Europe, i. 343

“——, Burning the,” a popular name for the fires of the festivals, ii. 43

Witches’ Sabbath on the Eve of May Day and Midsummer Eve, i. 171 _n._ 3,
            181, ii. 73, 74

“Withershins,” against the sun, in curses and excommunication, i. 234

Witurna, a spirit whose voice is heard in the sound of the bull-roarer,
            ii. 234

Wizards gather baleful herbs on the Eve of St. John, ii. 47;
  gather purple loosestrife at Midsummer, 65;
  animal familiars of, 196 _sq._, 201 _sq._

Woden, Odin, or Othin, the father of Balder, i. 101, 102, 103 _n._ 1

Wolf, Brotherhood of the Green, at Jumièges in Normandy, i. 185 _sq._, ii.
            15 _n._, 25

—— clan in North-Western America, ii. 270, 271, 272 _n._ 1

—— masks worn by members of a Wolf secret society, ii. 270 _sq._

—— society among the Nootka Indians, rite of initiation into the, ii. 270
            _sq._

Wolf’s hide, strap of, used by were-wolves, i. 310_ n._ 1

Wolfeck, in Austria, leaf-clad mummer on Midsummer Day at, ii. 25 _sq._

Wolfenbüttel, need-fire near, i. 277

Wolves and witches, the two great foes dreaded by herdsmen in Europe, i.
            343

Woman burnt alive as a witch in Ireland in 1895, i. 323 _sq._

Women in hard labour, charm to help, i. 14;
  after childbirth tabooed, 20;
  who do not menstruate supposed to make gardens barren, 24;
  impregnated by the sun, 74 _sq._;
  impregnated by the moon, 75 _sq._;
  at menstruation painted red, 78;
  leap over Midsummer bonfires to ensure an easy delivery, 194, 339;
  fertilized by tree-spirits, ii. 22;
  barren, hope to conceive through fertilizing influence of vegetables,
              51;
  creep through a rifted rock to obtain an easy delivery, 189;
  not allowed to see bull-roarers, 234, 235, 242.
  _See also_ Menstruous women

Wonghi or Wonghibon tribe of New South Wales, ritual of death and
            resurrection at initiation among the, ii. 227

Wood, the King of the, at Nemi, i. 2, 285, 286, 295, 302, 309

Woodbine, sick children passed through a wreath of, ii. 184

Woodpecker brings the mythical springwort, ii. 70 _sq._

Wootton-Wawen, in Warwickshire, the Yule log at, i. 257

“Working for need-fire,” a proverb, i. 287 _sq._

Worms, popular cure for, i. 17

Wormwood (_Artemisia absinthium_), ii. 58 _n._ 3;
  burnt to stupefy witches, i. 345;
  superstitions concerning, ii. 61_ n._ 1

Worship of ancestors in Fiji, ii. 243 _sq._;
  of the oak explained by the frequency with which oaks are struck by
              lightning, 298 _sqq._

Worth, R. N., on burnt sacrifices in Devonshire, i. 302

Worthen, in Shropshire, the Yule log at, i. 257

Wotjobaluk, of South-Eastern Australia, sex totems among the, ii. 215
            _sq._

Wounding were-wolves in order to compel them to resume their human shape,
            i. 308 _sqq._

Wounds, St. John’s wort a balm for, ii. 55

Wreath of woodbine, sick children passed through a, ii. 184

Wreaths of flowers thrown across the Midsummer fires, i. 174;
  superstitious uses made of the singed wreaths, 174;
  hung over doors and windows at Midsummer, 201

Wurtemberg, Midsummer fires in, i. 166;
  leaf-clad mummer at Midsummer in, ii. 26

Würzburg, Midsummer fires at, i. 165

Yabim, the, of New Guinea, girls at puberty secluded among the, i. 35;
  use of bull-roarers among the, ii. 232;
  rites of initiation among the, 239 _sqq._

Yaguas, Indians of the Amazon, girls at puberty secluded among the, i. 59

Yakut shamans keep their external souls in animals, ii. 196

Yakuts leap over fire after a burial, ii. 18

Yam, island of Torres Strait, treatment of girls at puberty in, i. 41

Yap, seclusion of girls at puberty in the island of, i. 36

Yaraikanna, the, of Northern Queensland, seclusion of girls at puberty
            among the, i. 37 _sq._

Yarn, divination by, i. 235, 240, 241, 243;
  sick children passed through a ring of, ii. 185

Yarra river in Victoria, i. 92 _n._ 1

Year called a fire, i. 137

Yellow Day of Beltane, i. 293

—— snow, the year of the, i. 294

Yibai, tribal subdivision of the Coast Murring tribe, ii. 236

Yoke, purification by passing under a, ii. 193 _sqq._;
  ancient Italian practice of passing conquered enemies under a, 93 _sq._

York, custom formerly observed at Christmas in the cathedral at, ii. 291
            _n._ 2

Yorkshire, belief as to menstruous women in, i. 96 _n._ 2;
  Beal-fires on Midsummer Eve in, 198;
  the Yule log in, 256 _sq._;
  need-fire in, 286 _sqq._;
  witch as hare in, 317, ii. 197

Yoruba-speaking negroes of the Slave Coast, use of bull-roarers among the,
            ii. 229 _n._

Young, Hugh W., on the rampart of Burghead, i. 268 _n._ 1

Young, Issobell, buries ox and cat alive, i. 325

Ypres, wicker giants at, ii. 35

Yucatan, fire-walk among the Indians of, ii. 13 _sq._, 16

Yuin, the, of South-Eastern Australia, their sex totems, ii. 216;
  totem names kept secret among, 225 _n._

Yukon, the Lower, i. 55

Yule cake, i. 257, 259, 261

—— candle, i. 255, 256, 260

—— log, i. 247 _sqq._;
  in Germany, 247 _sqq._;
  made of oak-wood, 248, 250, 251, 257, 258, 259, 260, 263, 264 _sq._, ii.
              92;
  a protection against conflagration, i. 248 _sq._, 250, 255, 256, 258;
  a protection against thunder and lightning, 248, 249, 250, 252, 253,
              254, 258, 264;
  in Switzerland, 249;
  in Belgium, 249;
  in France, 249 _sqq._;
  helps cows to calve, 250, 338;
  in England, 255 _sq._;
  in Wales, 258;
  among the Servians, 258 _sqq._;
  a protection against witches, 258;
  in Albania, 264;
  privacy of the ceremonial of the, 328;
  explained as a sun-charm, 332;
  made of fir, beech, holly, yew, crab-tree, or olive, ii. 92 _n._ 2

Yule Night in Sweden, customs observed on, i. 20 _sq._

Yuracares of Bolivia, seclusion of girls at puberty among the, i. 57 _sq._

_Zadrooga,_ Servian house-community, i. 259

Zambesi, the Barotse of the, i. 28

Zapotecs, supreme pontiff of the, not allowed to set foot on ground, i. 2;
  the sun not allowed to shine on him, i. 19;
  their belief that their lives were bound up with those of animals, ii.
              212

Zemmur, the, of Morocco, their Midsummer custom, i. 215

Zerdusht and Isfendiyar, i. 104

Zeus and his sacred oak at Dodona, ii. 49 _sq._;
  wood of white poplar used at Olympia in sacrificing to, 90 _n._ 1, 91
              _n._ 7

—— and Danae, i. 74

—— and Hephaestus, i. 136

Zimbales, a province of the Philippines, superstition as to a parasitic
            plant in, ii. 282 _n._ 1

Zoroaster, on the uncleanness of women
  at menstruation, i. 95

Zoznegg, in Baden, Easter fires at, i. 145

Zulus, seclusion of girls at puberty among the, i. 22, 30;
  fumigate their gardens with medicated smoke, 337;
  their custom of fumigating sick cattle, ii. 13;
  their belief as to ancestral spirits incarnate in serpents, 211

Zülz, in Silesia, Midsummer fires at, i. 170

Zuñi Indians of New Mexico, their new fires at the solstices, i. 132
            _sq._;
  use of bull-roarers among the, ii. 230 _n._, 231

Zurich, effigies burnt at, i. 120






FOOTNOTES


   M1 Bonfires at the Pongol festival in Southern India.

    1 Ch. E. Gover, “The Pongol Festival in Southern India,” _Journal of
      the Royal Asiatic Society_, N.S., v. (1870) pp. 96 _sq._

   M2 Bonfires at the Holi festival in Northern India. The village priest
      expected to pass through the fire. Leaping over the ashes of the
      fire to get rid of disease.

    2 W. Crooke, _Popular Religion and Folk-lore of Northern India_
      (Westminster, 1896), ii. 314 _sqq._; Captain G. R. Hearn, “Passing
      through the Fire at Phalon,” _Man_, v. (1905) pp. 154 _sq._ On the
      custom of walking through fire, or rather over a furnace, see Andrew
      Lang, _Modern Mythology_ (London, 1897), pp. 148-175; _id._, in
      _Athenaeum_, 26th August and 14th October, 1899; _id._, in
      _Folk-lore_, xii. (1901) pp. 452-455; _id._, in _Folk-lore_, xiv.
      (1903) pp. 87-89. Mr. Lang was the first to call attention to the
      wide prevalence of the rite in many parts of the world.

    3 Pandit Janardan Joshi, in _North Indian Notes and Queries_, iii. pp.
      92 _sq._, § 199 (September, 1893); W. Crooke, _Popular Religion and
      Folk-lore of Northern India_ (Westminster, 1896), ii. 318 _sq._

    4 E. T. Atkinson, “Notes on the History of Religion in the Himalayas
      of the N.W. Provinces,” _Journal of the Asiatic Society of Bengal_,
      liii. Part i. (Calcutta, 1884) p. 60. Compare W. Crooke, _Popular
      Religion and Folk-lore of Northern India_ (Westminster, 1896), ii.
      313 _sq._

   M3 Vernal festival of fire in China. Ceremony to ensure an abundant
      year. Walking through the fire. Ashes of the fire mixed with the
      fodder of the cattle.

    5 See above, vol. i. pp. 136 _sq._

    6 G. Schlegel, _Uranographie Chinoise_ (The Hague and Leyden, 1875),
      pp. 143 _sq._; _id._, “La fête de fouler le feu célébrée en Chine et
      par les Chinois à Java,” _Internationales Archiv für Ethnographie_,
      ix. (1896) pp. 193-195. Compare J. J. M. de Groot, _The Religious
      System of China_, vi. (Leyden, 1910) pp. 1292 _sq._ According to
      Professor Schlegel, the connexion between this festival and the old
      custom of solemnly extinguishing and relighting the fire in spring
      is unquestionable.

   M4 Passage of the image of the deity through the fire. Passage of
      inspired men through the fire in India.

_    7 The Dying God_, p. 262.

    8 (Sir) H. H. Risley, _Tribes and Castes of Bengal, Ethnographic
      Glossary_ (Calcutta, 1891-1892), i. 255 _sq._ Compare W. Crooke,
      _Popular Religion and Folk-lore of Northern India_ (Westminster,
      1896), i. 19; _id._, _Tribes and Castes of the North-Western
      Provinces and Oudh_ (Calcutta, 1896), ii. 355. According to Sir
      Herbert Risley, the trench filled with smouldering ashes is so
      narrow (only a span and a quarter wide) “that very little dexterity
      would enable a man to walk with his feet on either edge, so as not
      to touch the smouldering ashes at the bottom.”

    9 W. Crooke, _Tribes and Castes of the North-Western Provinces and
      Oudh_, ii. 82.

   10 M. J. Walhouse, “Passing through the Fire,” _Indian Antiquary_, vii.
      (1878) pp. 126 _sq._ Compare J. A. Dubois, _Mœurs, Institutions et
      Cérémonies des Peuples de l’Inde_ (Paris, 1825), ii. 373; E.
      Thurston, _Ethnographic Notes in Southern India_ (Madras, 1906), pp.
      471-486; G. F. D’Penha, in _Indian Antiquary_, xxxi. (1902) p. 392;
      “Fire-walking in Ganjam,” _Madras Government Museum Bulletin_, vol.
      iv. No. 3 (Madras, 1903), pp. 214-216. At Akka timanhully, one of
      the many villages which help to make up the town of Bangalore in
      Southern India, one woman at least from every house is expected to
      walk through the fire at the village festival. Captain J. S. F.
      Mackenzie witnessed the ceremony in 1873. A trench, four feet long
      by two feet wide, was filled with live embers. The priest walked
      through it thrice, and the women afterwards passed through it in
      batches. Capt. Mackenzie remarks: “From the description one reads of
      walking through fire, I expected something sensational. Nothing
      could be more tame than the ceremony we saw performed; in which
      there never was nor ever could be the slightest danger to life. Some
      young girl, whose soles were tender, might next morning find that
      she had a blister, but this would be the extent of harm she could
      receive.” See Captain J. S. F. Mackenzie, “The Village Feast,”
      _Indian Antiquary_, iii. (1874) pp. 6-9. But to fall on the hot
      embers might result in injuries which would prove fatal, and such an
      accident is known to have occurred at a village in Bengal. See H. J.
      Stokes, “Walking through Fire,” _Indian Antiquary_, ii. (1873) pp.
      190 _sq._ At Afkanbour, five days’ march from Delhi, the Arab
      traveller Ibn Batutah saw a troop of fakirs dancing and even rolling
      on the glowing embers of a wood fire. See _Voyages d’Ibn Batoutah_
      (Paris, 1853-1858), ii. 6 _sq._, iii. 439.

   M5 Hindoo fire-festival in honour of Darma Rajah and Draupadi.
      Worshippers walking through the fire.

   11 Sonnerat, _Voyage aux Indes orientales et à la Chine_ (Paris, 1782),
      i. 247 _sq._

_   12 Madras Government Museum, Bulletin_, vol. iv. No. 1 (Madras, 1901),
      pp. 55-59; E. Thurston, _Ethnographic Notes in Southern India_
      (Madras, 1906), pp. 471-474. One of the places where the
      fire-festival in honour of Draupadi takes place annually is the
      Allandur Temple, at St. Thomas’s Mount, near Madras. Compare
      “Fire-walking Ceremony at the Dharmaraja Festival,” _The Quarterly
      Journal of the Mythic Society_, vol. ii. No. 1 (October, 1910), pp.
      29-32.

   M6 Fire-festival of the Badagas in Southern India. Sacred fire made by
      friction. Walking through the fire. Cattle driven over the hot
      embers. The fire-walk preceded by a libation of milk and followed by
      ploughing and sowing.

   13 E. Thurston, _Castes and Tribes of Southern India_ (Madras, 1909),
      i. 98 _sq._; _id._, _Ethnographic Notes in Southern India_ (Madras,
      1906), pp. 476 _sq._

   14 E. Thurston, _Castes and Tribes of Southern India_ (Madras, 1909),
      i. 100 _sq._

   15 F. Metz, _The Tribes inhabiting the Neilgherry Hills_, Second
      Edition (Mangalore, 1864), p. 55.

   M7 The fire-walk in Japan.

   16 “A Japanese Fire-walk,” _American Anthropologist_, New Series, v.
      (1903) pp. 377-380. The ceremony has been described to me by two
      eye-witnesses, Mr. Ernest Foxwell of St. John’s College, Cambridge,
      and Miss E. P. Hughes, formerly Principal of the Teachers’ Training
      College, Cambridge. Mr. Foxwell examined the feet of the performers
      both before and after their passage through the fire and found no
      hurt. The heat was so great that the sweat ran down him as he stood
      near the bed of glowing charcoal. He cannot explain the immunity of
      the performers. He informs me that the American writer Percival
      Lowell walked in the fire and was burned so severely that he was
      laid up in bed for three weeks; while on the other hand a Scotch
      engineer named Hillhouse passed over the hot charcoal unscathed.
      Several of Miss Hughes’s Japanese pupils also went through the
      ordeal with impunity, but one of them burned a toe. Both before and
      after walking through the fire the people dipped their feet in a
      white stuff which Miss Hughes was told was salt. Compare W. G.
      Aston, _Shinto_ (London, 1905), p. 348: “At the present day plunging
      the hand into boiling water, walking barefoot over a bed of live
      coals, and climbing a ladder formed of sword-blades set edge upwards
      are practised, not by way of ordeal, but to excite the awe and
      stimulate the piety of the ignorant spectators.”

   M8 The fire-walk in Fiji, Tahiti, the Marquesas Islands, and Trinidad.

   17 Basil Thomson, _South Sea Yarns_ (Edinburgh and London, 1894), pp.
      195-207. Compare F. Arthur Jackson, “A Fijian Legend of the Origin
      of the _Vilavilairevo_ or Fire Ceremony,” _Journal of the Polynesian
      Society_, vol. iii. No. 2 (June, 1894), pp. 72-75; R. Fulton, “An
      Account of the Fiji Fire-walking Ceremony, or _Vilavilairevo_, with
      a probable explanation of the mystery,” _Transactions and
      Proceedings of the New Zealand Institute_, xxxv. (1902) pp. 187-201;
      Lieutenant Vernon H. Haggard, in _Folk-lore_, xiv. (1903) pp. 88
      _sq._

   18 S. P. Langley, “The Fire-walk Ceremony in Tahiti,” _Report of the
      Smithsonian Institution for 1901_ (Washington, 1902), pp. 539-544;
      _id._, in _Folk-lore_, xiv. (1901) pp. 446-452; “More about
      Fire-walking,” _Journal of the Polynesian Society_, vol. x. No. 1
      (March, 1901), pp. 53 _sq._ In his _Modern Mythology_ (pp. 162-165)
      Andrew Lang quotes from _The Polynesian Society’s Journal_, vol. ii.
      No. 2, pp. 105-108, an account of the fire-walk by Miss Tenira
      Henry, which seems to refer to Raiatea, one of the Tahitian group of
      islands.

_   19 Annales de l’Association de la Propagation de la Foi_, lxix. (1897)
      pp. 130-133. But in the ceremony here described the chief performer
      was a native of Huahine, one of the Tahitian group of islands. The
      wood burned in the furnace was hibiscus and native chestnut
      (_Inocarpus edulis_). Before stepping on the hot stones the
      principal performer beat the edge of the furnace twice or thrice
      with _ti_ leaves (dracaena).

_   20 Les Missions Catholiques_, x. (1878) pp. 141 _sq._; A. Lang,
      _Modern Mythology_, p. 167, quoting Mr. Henry R. St. Clair.

   M9 Hottentot custom of driving their sheep through fire and smoke.

   21 Peter Kolben, _The Present State of the Cape of Good Hope_, Second
      Edition (London, 1738), i. 129-133.

  M10 Fire applied to sick cattle by the Nandi and Zulus.

   22 A. C. Hollis, _The Nandi_ (Oxford, 1909), pp. 45 _sq._

   23 Rev. Joseph Shooter, _The Kafirs of Natal_ (London, 1857), p. 35.

  M11 Indians of Yucatan walk over hot embers in order to avert
      calamities.

   24 Diego de Landa, _Relation des choses de Yucatan_ (Paris, 1864), pp.
      231, 233.

  M12 The fire-walk in antiquity, at Castabala in Cappadocia and at Mount
      Soracte near Rome.

   25 Strabo, xii. 2. 7, p. 537. Compare _Adonis, Attis, Osiris_, Second
      Edition, pp. 89, 134 _sqq._

   26 Pliny, _Nat. Hist._ vii. 19; Virgil, _Aen._ xi. 784 _sqq._ with the
      comment of Servius; Strabo, v. 2. 9, p. 226; Dionysius
      Halicarnasensis, _Antiquit. Rom._ iii. 32. From a reference to the
      custom in Silius Italicus (v. 175 _sqq._) it seems that the men
      passed thrice through the furnace holding the entrails of the
      sacrificial victims in their hands. The learned but sceptical Varro
      attributed their immunity in the fire to a drug with which they took
      care to anoint the soles of their feet before they planted them in
      the furnace. See Varro, cited by Servius, on Virgil, _Aen._ xi. 787.
      The whole subject has been treated by W. Mannhardt (_Antike Wald-
      und Feldkulte_, Berlin, 1877, pp. 327 _sqq._), who compares the
      rites of these “Soranian Wolves” with the ceremonies performed by
      the brotherhood of the Green Wolf at Jumièges in Normandy. See
      above, vol. i. pp. 185 _sq._

   27 L. Preller (_Römische Mythologie_,3 i. 268), following G. Curtius,
      would connect the first syllable of Soranus and Soracte with the
      Latin _sol_, “sun.” However, this etymology appears to be at the
      best very doubtful. My friend Prof. J. H. Moulton doubts whether
      _Soranus_ can be connected with _sol_; he tells me that the
      interchange of _l_ and _r_ is rare. He would rather connect
      _Soracte_ with the Greek ὕραξ, “a shrew-mouse.” In that case Apollo
      Soranus might be the equivalent of the Greek Apollo Smintheus, “the
      Mouse Apollo.” Professor R. S. Conway also writes to me (11th
      November 1902) that _Soranus_ and _Soracte_ “have nothing to do with
      _sol_; _r_ and _l_ are not confused in Italic.”

   28 Livy, xxvi. 11. About this time the Carthaginian army encamped only
      three miles from Rome, and Hannibal in person, at the head of two
      thousand cavalry, rode close up to the walls and leisurely
      reconnoitered them. See Livy, xxvi. 10; Polybius, ix. 5-7.

  M13 Little evidence to shew that the fire-walk is a sun-charm.

   29 Above, p. 1.

   30 Above, p. 15.

   31 Above, pp. 13 _sq._

  M14 On the other hand there is much to be said for the view that the
      fire-walk is a form of purification, the flames being thought either
      to burn up or repel the powers of evil. Custom of stepping over fire
      for the purpose of getting rid of a ghost. Widows fumigated to free
      them from their husbands’ ghosts.

   32 Above, p. 8, compare p. 3.

   33 J. J. M. de Groot, _The Religious System of China_, i. (Leyden,
      1892), p. 355; _id._ vi. (Leyden, 1910) p. 942.

   34 Rev. J. H. Gray, _China_ (London, 1878), i. 287, 305; J. J. M. de
      Groot, _op. cit._ i. 32, vi. 942.

   35 J. J. M. de Groot, _op. cit._ i. 137, vi. 942.

   36 J. G. Gmelin, _Reise durch Sibirien_ (Göttingen, 1751-1752), i. 333.

   37 W. L. Priklonski, “Ueber das Schamenthum bei den Jakuten,” in A.
      Bastian’s _Allerlei aus Volks- und Menschenkunde_ (Berlin, 1888), i.
      219. Compare Vasilij Priklonski, “Todtengebräuche der Jakuten,”
      _Globus_, lix. (1891) p. 85.

   38 J. A. H. Louis, _The Gates of Thibet_ (Calcutta, 1894), p. 116.

   39 E. Allegret, “Les Idées religieuses des Fañ (Afrique Occidentale),”
      _Revue de l’Histoire des Religions_, l. (1904) p. 220.

   40 A. B. Ellis, _The Ewe-speaking Peoples of the Slave Coast of West
      Africa_ (London, 1890), p. 160.

  M15 Hence it seems probable that the chief use of the fire in the
      fire-festivals of Europe was to destroy or repel the witches, to
      whose maleficent arts the people ascribed most of their troubles.

   41 Above, pp. 162, 163, 211, 212, 214, 215, 217.

   42 See the references above, vol. i. p. 342 note 2.

   43 See the references above, vol. i. p. 342 note 3.

   44 See _The Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings_, ii. 52 _sqq._, 127;
      _The Scapegoat_, pp. 157 _sqq._ Compare R. Kühnau, _Schlesische
      Sagen_ (Berlin, 1910-1913), iii. p. 69, No. 1428: “In the county of
      Glatz the people believe that on Walpurgis Night (the Eve of May
      Day) the witches under cover of the darkness seek to harm men in all
      sorts of ways. To guard themselves against them the people set small
      birch trees in front of the house-door on the previous day, and are
      of opinion that the witches must count all the leaves on these
      little trees before they can get into the house. While they are
      still at this laborious task, the day dawns and the dreaded guests
      must retire to their own realm”; _id._, iii. p. 39, No. 1394: “On
      St. John’s Night (between the 23rd and 24th of June) the witches
      again busily bestir themselves to force their way into the houses of
      men and the stalls of cattle. People stick small twigs of oak in the
      windows and doors of the houses and cattle-stalls to keep out the
      witches. This is done in the neighbourhood of Patschkau and
      generally in the districts of Frankenstein, Münsterberg, Grottkau,
      and Neisse. In the same regions they hang garlands, composed of oak
      leaves intertwined with flowers, at the windows. The garland must be
      woven in the house itself and may not be carried over any threshold;
      it must be hung out of the window on a nail, which is inserted
      there.” Similar evidence might be multiplied almost indefinitely.

  M16 The effigies burnt in the fires probably represent witches.
  M17 Possibly some of the effigies burnt in the fires represent
      tree-spirits or spirits of vegetation.

_   45 The Golden Bough_, Second Edition (London, 1900), ii. 314-316.

_   46 The Dying God_, pp. 249 _sqq._

   47 Above, vol. i. p. 117, compare pp. 143, 144.

   48 See above, vol. i. p. 120.

_   49 The Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings_, ii. 56 _sqq._

   50 Above, vol. i. pp. 120, 167.

   51 Above, vol. i. pp. 115 _sq._, 116, 142, 173 _sq._, 185, 191, 192,
      193, 209.

   52 Above, vol. i. p. 120.

   53 Above, vol. i. p. 116. But the effigy is called the Witch.

  M18 Reasons for burning effigies of the spirit of vegetation or for
      passing them through the fire.

   54 The chapter has since been expanded into the four volumes of _The
      Dying God_, _Spirits of the Corn and of the Wild_, and _The
      Scapegoat_.

_   55 The Dying God_, p. 262.

  M19 The custom of passing images of gods or their living representatives
      through the fires may be simply a form of purification.

   56 Above, pp. 9, 10, 14.

   57 Among the Klings of Southern India the ceremony of walking over a
      bed of red-hot ashes is performed by a few chosen individuals, who
      are prepared for the rite by a devil-doctor or medicine-man. The
      eye-witness who describes the ceremony adds: “As I understood it,
      they took on themselves and expiated the sins of the Kling community
      for the past year.” See the letter of Stephen Ponder, quoted by
      Andrew Lang, _Modern Mythology_ (London, 1897), p. 160.

  M20 Yet at some of the fire-festivals the pretence of burning live
      persons in the fires points to a former custom of human sacrifice.

_   58 The Dying God_, pp. 205 _sqq._; _Spirits of the Corn and of the
      Wild_, i. 216 _sqq._

   59 Above, vol. i. p. 120.

   60 Above, vol. i. p. 186.

   61 Above, vol. i. p. 148.

   62 Above, vol. i. p. 233.

   63 Above, vol. i. p. 194.

   64 W. Mannhardt, _Baumkultus_, p. 524.

_   65 Bavaria, Landes- und Volkskunde des Königreichs Bayern_ (Munich,
      1860-1867), iii. 956; W. Mannhardt, _Baumkultus_, p. 524. In the
      neighbourhood of Breitenbrunn the lad who collects fuel at this
      season has his face blackened and is called “the Charcoal Man”
      (_Bavaria_, etc., ii. 261).

   66 A. Birlinger, _Volksthümliches aus Schwaben_ (Freiburg im Breisgau,
      1861-1862), ii. 121 _sq._, § 146; W. Mannhardt, _Baumkultus_, pp.
      524 _sq._

  M21 In pagan Europe the water as well as the fire seems to have claimed
      its human victim on Midsummer Day. Custom of throwing a man and a
      tree into the water on St. John’s Day.

   67 E. Meier, _Deutsche Sagen, Sitten und Gebräuche aus Schwaben_
      (Stuttgart, 1852), pp. 428 _sq._, §§ 120, 122; O. Freiherr von
      Reinsberg-Düringsfeld, _Das festliche Jahr_ (Leipsic, 1863), p. 194;
      J. A. E. Köhler, _Volksbrauch, Aberglauben, Sagen und andre alte
      Ueberlieferungen im Voigtlande_ (Leipsic, 1867), p. 176; J. V.
      Grohmann, _Aberglauben und Gebräuche aus Böhmen und Mähren_ (Prague
      and Leipsic, 1864), p. 49, § 311; W. J. A. Tettau und J. D. H.
      Temme, _Die Volkssagen Ost-preussens, Litthauens und West-preussens_
      (Berlin, 1837), pp. 277 _sq._; K. Haupt, _Sagenbuch der Lausitz_
      (Leipsic, 1862-1863), i. 48; R. Eisel, _Sagenbuch des Voigtlandes_
      (Gera, 1871), p. 31, Nr. 62.

   68 Montanus, _Die deutschen Volksfeste, Volksbräuche und deutscher
      Volksglaube_ (Iserlohn, N.D.), p. 34.

   69 E. Hoffmann-Krayer, _Feste und Bräuche des Schweizervolkes_ (Zurich,
      1913), p. 163.

   70 E. H. Meyer, _Badisches Volksleben_ (Strasburg, 1900), p. 507.

   71 J. A. E. Köhler, _loc. cit._ Tacitus tells us that the image of the
      goddess Nerthus, her vestments, and chariot were washed in a certain
      lake, and that immediately afterwards the slaves who ministered to
      the goddess were swallowed by the lake (_Germania_, 40). The
      statement may perhaps be understood to mean that the slaves were
      drowned as a sacrifice to the deity. Certainly we know from Tacitus
      (_Germania_, 9 and 39) that the ancient Germans offered human
      sacrifices.

  M22 Loaves and flowers thrown into the water on St. John’s Day, perhaps
      as substitutes for human beings.

   72 E. Meier, _Deutsche Sagen, Sitten und Gebräuche aus Schwaben_
      (Stuttgart, 1852), p. 429, § 121.

   73 O. Frh. von Reinsberg-Düringsfeld, _Fest-Kalender aus Böhmen_
      (Prague, N.D.), p. 311.

   74 Karl Lynker, _Deutsche Sagen und Sitten in hessischen Gauen_2
      (Cassel and Göttingen, 1860), pp. 253, 254, §§ 335, 336.

  M23 Midsummer Day deemed unlucky and dangerous.

   75 E. H. Meyer, _Badisches Volksleben_ (Strasburg, 1900), p. 506.

   76 Giuseppe Pitrè, _Spettacoli e Feste Popolari Siciliane_ (Palermo,
      1881), p. 313.

  M24 In Europe people used to bathe on Midsummer Eve or Midsummer Day,
      because water was thought to acquire wonderful medicinal virtues at
      that time.

   77 J. Grimm, _Deutsche Mythologie_,4 i. 489 _sq._, iii. 487; A. Wuttke,
      _Der deutsche Volksaberglaube_2 (Berlin, 1869), p. 77 § 92; O.
      Freiherr von Reinsberg-Düringsfeld, _Das festliche Jahr_ (Leipsic,
      1863), p. 193; F. J. Vonbun, _Beiträge zur deutschen Mythologie_
      (Chur, 1862), p. 133; P. Drechsler, _Sitte, Brauch und Volksglaube
      in Schlesien_ (Leipsic, 1903-1906), i. 143 § 161; Karl Haupt,
      _Sagenbuch der Lausitz_ (Leipsic, 1862-1863), i. 248, No. 303; F. J.
      Wiedemann, _Aus dem inneren und äusseren Leben der Ehsten_ (St.
      Petersburg, 1876), p. 415; L. Lloyd, _Peasant Life in Sweden_
      (London, 1870), pp. 261 _sq._; Paul Sébillot, _Le Folk-lore de
      France_ (Paris, 1904-1907), ii. 160 _sq._; T. F. Thiselton Dyer,
      _British Popular Customs_ (London, 1876), pp. 322 _sq._, 329 _sq._
      For more evidence, see above, vol. i. pp. 193, 194, 205 _sq._, 208,
      210, 216; _Adonis, Attis, Osiris_, Second Edition, pp. 204 _sqq._

   78 Le Baron de Reinsberg-Düringsfeld, _Calendrier Belge_ (Brussels,
      1861-1862), i. 420 _sq._; E. Monseur, _Le Folklore Wallon_
      (Brussels, N.D.), p. 130; P. Sébillot, _Le Folk-lore de France_, ii.
      374 _sq._

   79 E. Hoffmann-Krayer, _Feste und Bräuche des Schweizervolkes_ (Zurich,
      1913), p. 163. See above, p. 27.

  M25 Similar customs and beliefs as to water at Midsummer in Morocco.

   80 E. Westermarck, “Midsummer Customs in Morocco,” _Folk-lore_, xvi.
      (1905) pp. 31 _sq._; _id._, _Ceremonies and Beliefs connected with
      Agriculture, certain Dates of the Solar Year, and the Weather in
      Morocco_ (Helsingfors, 1913), pp. 84-86; E. Doutté, _Magie et
      Religion dans l’Afrique du Nord_ (Algiers, 1908), pp. 567 _sq._ See
      also above, vol. i. p. 216.

   81 See above, vol. i. pp. 213-219.

   82 E. Westermarck, _Ceremonies and Beliefs connected with Agriculture,
      certain Dates of the Solar Year, and the Weather in Morocco_
      (Helsingfors, 1913), pp. 94 _sq._

   83 This has been rightly pointed out by Dr. Edward Westermarck
      (“Midsummer Customs in Morocco,” _Folk-lore_, xvi. (1905) p. 46).

  M26 Human sacrifices by fire among the ancient Gauls. Men and animals
      enclosed in great wicker-work images and burnt alive.

   84 Caesar, _Bell. Gall._ vi. 15; Strabo, iv. 4. 5, p. 198; Diodorus
      Siculus, v. 32. See W. Mannhardt, _Baumkultus_, pp. 525 _sqq._

   85 Strabo, iv. 4. 4, p. 197: τὰς δὲ φονικὰς δίκας μάλιστα τούτοις
      [_i.e._ the Druids] ἐπετέτραπτο δικάζειν, ὅταν τε φορὰ τούτων ᾖ,
      φορὰν καὶ τῆς χώρας νομίζουσιν ὑπάρχειν. On this passage see W.
      Mannhardt, _Baumkultus_, pp. 529 _sqq._; and below, pp. 42 _sq._

  M27 As the fertility of the land was supposed to depend on these
      sacrifices, Mannhardt interpreted the victims as representatives of
      tree-spirits or spirits of vegetation.

_   86 The Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings_, ii. 80 _sqq._

  M28 Wicker-work giants at popular festivals in modern Europe. The giant
      at Douay on July the seventh. The giants at Dunkirk on Midsummer
      Day.

   87 Madame Clément, _Histoire des fêtes civiles et religieuses du
      département du Nord_2 (Cambrai, 1836), pp. 193-200; A. de Nore,
      _Coutumes, Mythes et Traditions des Provinces de France_, (Paris and
      Lyons, 1846), pp. 323 _sq._; F. W. Fairholt, _Gog and Magog, the
      Giants in Guildhall, their real and legendary History_ (London,
      1859), pp. 78-87; W. Mannhardt, _Baumkultus_, p. 523, note. It is
      said that the giantess made her first appearance in 1665, and that
      the children were not added to the show till the end of the
      seventeenth century. In the eighteenth century the procession took
      place on the third Sunday in June, which must always have been
      within about a week of Midsummer Day (H. Gaidoz, “Le dieu gaulois du
      soleil et le symbolisme de la roue,” _Revue Archéologique_, iii.
      série iv. 32 _sq._).

_   88 The Gentleman’s Magazine_, xxix. (1759), pp. 263-265; Madame
      Clément, _Histoire des fêtes civiles et religieuses du département
      du Nord_,2 pp. 169-175; A. de Nore, _Coutumes, Mythes et Traditions
      des Provinces de France_, pp. 328-332. Compare John Milner, _The
      History, Civil and Ecclesiastical, and Survey of the Antiquities of
      Winchester_ (Winchester, N.D.), i. 8 _sq._ note 6; John Brand,
      _Popular Antiquities of Great Britain_ (London, 1882-1883), i. 325
      _sq._; James Logan, _The Scottish Gael or Celtic Manners_, edited by
      Rev. Alex. Stewart (Inverness, N.D.), ii. 358. According to the
      writer in _The Gentleman’s Magazine_ the name of the procession was
      the Cor-mass.

  M29 Wicker-work giants in Brabant and Flanders.

   89 Madame Clément, _Histoire des fêtes civiles et religieuses_, etc.,
      _de la Belgique méridionale_, etc. (Avesnes, 1846), p. 252; Le Baron
      de Reinsberg-Düringsfeld, _Calendrier Belge_ (Brussels, 1861-1862),
      i. 123-126. We may conjecture that the Flemish _Reuze_, like the
      _Reuss_ of Dunkirk, is only another form of the German _Riese_,
      “giant.”

   90 F. W. Fairholt, _Gog and Magog, the Giants in Guildhall, their real
      and legendary History_ (London, 1859), pp. 64-78. For the loan of
      this work and of the one cited in the next note I have to thank Mrs.
      Wherry, of St. Peter’s Terrace, Cambridge.

   91 E. Fourdin, “La foire d’Ath,” _Annales du Cercle Archéologique de
      Mons_, ix. (Mons, 1869) pp. 7, 8, 12, 36 _sq._ The history of the
      festival has been carefully investigated, with the help of documents
      by M. Fourdin. According to him, the procession was religious in its
      origin and took its rise from a pestilence which desolated Hainaut
      in 1215 (_op. cit._ pp. 1 _sqq._). He thinks that the effigies of
      giants were not introduced into the procession till between 1450 and
      1460 (_op. cit._ p. 8).

  M30 Midsummer giants in England.

   92 George Puttenham, _The Arte of English Poesie_ (London, 1811,
      reprint of the original edition of London, 1589), book iii. chapter
      vi. p. 128. On the history of the English giants and their relation
      to those of the continent, see F. W. Fairholt, _Gog and Magog, the
      Giants in Guildhall, their real and legendary History_ (London,
      1859).

   93 Joseph Strutt, _The Sports and Pastimes of the People of England_,
      New Edition, by W. Hone (London, 1834), pp. xliii.-xlv.; F. W.
      Fairholt, _Gog and Magog, the Giants in Guildhall_ (London, 1859),
      pp. 52-59.

   94 F. W. Fairholt, _op. cit._ pp. 59-61.

   95 F. W. Fairholt, _op. cit._ pp. 61-63.

  M31 Wicker-work giants burnt at or near Midsummer.

   96 Felix Liebrecht, _Des Gervasius von Tilbury Otia Imperialia_
      (Hanover, 1856), pp. 212 _sq._; A. de Nore, _Coutumes, Mythes, et
      Traditions des Provinces de France_, pp. 354 _sq._; W. Mannhardt,
      _Baumkultus_, p. 514.

   97 W. Mannhardt, _Baumkultus_, pp. 514, 523.

  M32 Animals burnt in the Midsummer bonfires. Serpents formerly burnt in
      the Midsummer fire at Luchon. Cats formerly burnt in the Midsummer,
      Easter, and Lenten bonfires.

_   98 Athenaeum_, 24th July 1869, p. 115; W. Mannhardt, _Baumkultus_, pp.
      515 _sq._ From a later account we learn that about the year 1890 the
      custom of lighting a bonfire and dancing round it was still observed
      at Bagnères de Luchon on Midsummer Eve, but the practice of burning
      live serpents in it had been discontinued. The fire was kindled by a
      priest. See _Folk-lore_, xii. (1901) pp. 315-317.

   99 A. Breuil, “Du culte de St.-Jean Baptiste,” _Mémoires de la Société
      des Antiquaires de Picardie_, viii. (1845) pp. 187 _sq._; Collin de
      Plancy, _Dictionnaire Infernal_ (Paris, 1825-1826), iii. 40; A. de
      Nore, _Coutumes, Mythes et Traditions des Provinces de France_, pp.
      355 _sq._; J. W. Wolf, _Beiträge zur deutschen Mythologie_
      (Göttingen and Leipsic, 1852-1857), ii. 388; E. Cortet, _Essai sur
      les Fêtes Religieuses_ (Paris, 1867), pp. 213 _sq._; Laisnel de la
      Salle, _Croyances et Légendes du Centre de la France_ (Paris, 1875),
      i. 82; W. Mannhardt, _Baumkultus_, p. 515.

  100 Tessier, in _Mémoires et Dissertations publiés par la Société Royale
      des Antiquaires de France_, v. (1823) p. 388; W. Mannhardt,
      _Baumkultus_, p. 515.

  101 Alexandre Bertrand, _La Religion des Gaulois_ (Paris, 1897), p. 407.

  102 J. Grimm, _Deutsche Mythologie_,4 i. 519; W. Mannhardt,
      _Baumkultus_, p. 515.

  103 W. Mannhardt, _Baumkultus_, p. 515; Montanus, _Die deutschen
      Volksfesten, Volksbräuche und deutscher Volksglaube_ (Iserlohn,
      N.D.), p. 34.

  104 W. Mannhardt, _Baumkultus_, p. 515.

  105 A. Meyrac, _Traditions, Coutumes, Légendes, et Contes des Ardenness_
      (Charleville, 1890), p. 68.

  106 Above, vol. i. p. 142.

  M33 Thus the sacrificial rites of the ancient Gauls have their
      counterparts in the popular festivals of modern Europe.
  M34 The men, women, and animals burnt at these festivals were perhaps
      thought to be witches or wizards in disguise.

  107 Strabo, iv. 4. 5, p. 198, καὶ ἄλλα δὲ ἀνθρωποθυσιῶν εἴδη λέγεται;
      καὶ γὰρ κατετόξευόν τινας καὶ ἀνεσταύρουν ἐν τοῖς ἱεροῖς καὶ
      κατασκευάσαντες κολοσσὸν χόρτου καὶ ξύλων, ἐμβαλόντες εἰς τοῦτον
      βοσκήματα καὶ θηρία παντοῖα καὶ ἀνθρώπους ὡλοκαύτουν.

  108 Above, p. 39.

  109 Marie Trevelyan, _Folk-lore and Folk-stories of Wales_ (London,
      1909), pp. 214, 301 _sq._; Ulrich Jahn, _Hexenwesen und Zauberei in
      Pommern_ (Breslau, 1886), p. 7; _id._, _Volkssagen aus Pommern und
      Rügen_ (Stettin, 1886), p. 353, No. 446.

  110 See above, vol. i. p. 315 _n._ 1.

  111 The treatment of magic and witchcraft by the Christian Church is
      described by W. E. H. Lecky, _History of the Rise and Influence of
      the Spirit of Rationalism in Europe_, New Edition (London, 1882), i.
      1 _sqq._ Four hundred witches were burned at one time in the great
      square of Toulouse (W. E. H. Lecky, _op. cit._ ii. 38). Writing at
      the beginning of the eighteenth century Addison observes: “Before I
      leave Switzerland I cannot but observe, that the notion of
      witchcraft reigns very much in this country. I have often been tired
      with accounts of this nature from very sensible men, who are most of
      them furnished with matters of fact which have happened, as they
      pretend, within the compass of their own knowledge. It is certain
      there have been many executions on this account, as in the canton of
      Berne there were some put to death during my stay at Geneva. The
      people are so universally infatuated with the notion, that if a cow
      falls sick, it is ten to one but an old woman is clapt up in prison
      for it, and if the poor creature chance to think herself a witch,
      the whole country is for hanging her up without mercy.” See _The
      Works of Joseph Addison_, with notes by R. Hurd, D.D. (London,
      1811), vol. ii., “Remarks on several Parts of Italy,” p. 196.

  112 Strabo, iv. 4. 4, p. 197. See the passage quoted above, p. 32, note
      2.

  M35 Mannhardt thought that the men and animals whom the Druids burned in
      wickerwork images represented spirits of vegetation, and that the
      burning of them was a charm to secure a supply of sunshine for the
      crops.

  113 W. Mannhardt, _Baumkultus_, pp. 532-534.

_  114 Spirits of the Corn and of the Wild_, i. 270-305.

  115 Some of the serpents worshipped by the old Prussians lived in hollow
      oaks, and as oaks were sacred among the Prussians, the serpents may
      possibly have been regarded as genii of the trees. See Simon Grunau,
      _Preussischer Chronik_, herausgegeben von Dr. M. Perlbach, i.
      (Leipsic, 1876) p. 89; Christophor Hartknoch, _Alt und Neues
      Preussen_ (Frankfort and Leipsic, 1684), pp. 143, 163. Serpents
      played an important part in the worship of Demeter, but we can
      hardly assume that they were regarded as embodiments of the goddess.
      See _Spirits of the Corn and of the Wild_, ii. 17 _sq._

  116 For example, in China the spirits of plants are thought to assume
      the form of snakes oftener than that of any other animal. Chinese
      literature abounds with stories illustrative of such
      transformations. See J. J. M. de Groot, _The Religious System of
      China_, iv. (Leyden, 1901) pp. 283-286. In Siam the spirit of the
      _takhien_ tree is said to appear sometimes in the shape of a serpent
      and sometimes in that of a woman. See Adolph Bastian, _Die Voelker
      des Oestlichen Asien_, iii. (Jena, 1867) p. 251. The vipers that
      haunted the balsam trees in Arabia were regarded by the Arabs as
      sacred to the trees (Pausanias, ix. 28. 4); and once in Arabia, when
      a wood hitherto untouched by man was burned down to make room for
      the plough, certain white snakes flew out of it with loud
      lamentations. No doubt they were supposed to be the dispossessed
      spirits of the trees. See J. Wellhausen, _Reste Arabischen
      Heidentums_2 (Berlin, 1897), pp. 108 _sq._

  M36 It is a common belief in Europe that plants acquire certain magical,
      but transient, virtues on Midsummer Eve. Magical plants culled on
      Midsummer Eve (St. John’s Eve) or Midsummer Day (St. John’s Day) in
      France. St. John’s herb.

  117 J. L. M. Noguès, _Les mœurs d’autrefois en Saintonge et en Aunis_
      (Saintes, 1891), p. 71. Amongst the superstitious practices
      denounced by the French writer J. B. Thiers in the seventeenth
      century was “the gathering of certain herbs between the Eve of St.
      John and the Eve of St. Peter and keeping them in a bottle to heal
      certain maladies.” See J. B. Thiers, _Traité des Superstitions_
      (Paris, 1679), p. 321.

  118 A. de Nore, _Coutumes, Mythes et Traditions des Provinces de France_
      (Paris and Lyons, 1846), pp. 150 _sq._

  119 Jules Lecœur, _Esquisses du Bocage Normand_ (Condé-sur-Noireau,
      1883-1887), ii. 8, 244; Amélie Bosquet, _La Normandie romanesque et
      merveilleuse_ (Paris and Rouen, 1845), p. 294.

  120 De la Loubere, _Du Royaume de Siam_ (Amsterdam, 1691), i. 202. The
      writer here mentions an Italian mode of divination practised on
      Midsummer Eve. People washed their feet in wine and threw the wine
      out of the window. After that, the first words they heard spoken by
      passers-by were deemed oracular.

  121 Aubin-Louis Millin, _Voyage dans les Départements du Midi de la
      France_ (Paris, 1807-1811), iii. 344 _sq._

  122 Alexandre Bertrand, _La Religion des Gaulois_ (Paris, 1897), p. 124.
      In French the name of St. John’s herb (_herbe de la Saint-Jean_) is
      usually given to _millepertius_, that is, St. John’s wort, which is
      quite a different flower. See below, pp. 54 _sqq._ But “St. John’s
      herb” may well be a general term which in different places is
      applied to different plants.

  123 Bruno Stehle, “Aberglauben, Sitten und Gebräuche in Lothringen,”
      _Globus_, lix. (1891) p. 379.

  124 L. F. Sauvé, _Le Folk-lore des Hautes-Vosges_ (Paris, 1889), pp. 168
      _sq._

  M37 Magical plants culled on Midsummer Eve or Midsummer Day in the Tyrol
      and Germany.

  125 I. V. Zingerle, “Wald, Bäume, Kräuter,” _Zeitschrift für deutsche
      Mythologie und Sittenkunde_, i. (1853) pp. 332 _sq._; _id._,
      _Sitten, Bräuche und Meinungen des Tiroler Volkes_2 (Innsbruck,
      1871), p. 158, §§ 1345, 1348.

  126 Christian Schneller, _Märchen und Sagen aus Wälschtirol_ (Innsbruck,
      1867), p. 237, § 24.

  127 J. H. Schmitz, _Sitten und Bräuche, Lieder, Sprüchwörter und Räthsel
      des Eifler Volkes_ (Treves, 1856-1858), i. 40.

  128 J. H. Schmitz, _op. cit._ i. 42.

  129 A. Kuhn, _Märkische Sagen und Märchen_ (Berlin, 1843), p. 330.

  130 K. Bartsch, _Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche aus Mecklenburg_ (Vienna,
      1879-1880), ii. p. 287, § 1436.

  131 W. von Schulenburg, _Wendische Volkssagen und Gebräuche aus dem
      Spreewald_ (Leipsic, 1880), p. 254.

  132 M. Prätorius, _Deliciae Prussicae_ (Berlin, 1871), pp. 24 _sq._
      Kaupole is probably identical in name with Kupole or Kupalo, as to
      whom see _The Dying God_, pp. 261 _sq._

  M38 Magical plants culled on Midsummer Eve (St. John’s Eve) or Midsummer
      Day in Austria and Russia.

  133 Alois John, _Sitte, Brauch und Volksglaube im deutschen Westböhmen_
      (Prague, 1905), p. 86.

  134 R. F. Kaindl, _Die Huzulen_ (Vienna, 1894), pp. 78, 90, 93, 105;
      _id._, “Zauberglaube bei den Huzulen,” _Globus_, lxxvi. (1899) p.
      256.

  135 Dr. F. Tetzner, “Die Tschechen und Mährer in Schlesien,” _Globus_,
      lxxviii. (1900) p. 340.

  136 J. B. Holzmayer, “Osiliana,” _Verhandlungen der gelehrten Estnischen
      Gesellschaft_, vii. Heft 2 (Dorpat, 1872), p. 62.

  137 P. Einhorn, “Wiederlegunge der Abgötterey: der ander (_sic_) Theil,”
      printed at Riga in 1627, and reprinted in _Scriptores rerum
      Livonicarum_, ii. (Riga and Leipsic, 1848) pp. 651 _sq._

  138 J. G. Kohl, _Die deutsch-russischen Ostseeprovinzen_ (Dresden and
      Leipsic, 1841), ii. 26.

  M39 Magical plants culled on St. John’s Eve or St. John’s Day among the
      South Slavs, in Macedonia, and Bolivia.

  139 A. Strausz, _Die Bulgaren_ (Leipsic, 1898), pp. 348, 386.

  140 F. S. Krauss, _Volksglaube und religiöser Brauch der Südslaven_
      (Münster i. W., 1890), p. 34.

  141 G. F. Abbott, _Macedonian Folk-lore_ (Cambridge, 1903), pp. 54, 58.

  142 H. A. Weddell, _Voyage dans le Nord de la Bolivie et dans les
      parties voisines du Pérou_ (Paris and London, 1853), p. 181.

  M40 Magical plants culled at Midsummer among the Mohammedans of Morocco.

  143 W. Westermarck, “Midsummer Customs in Morocco,” _Folk-lore_, xvi.
      (1905) p. 35; _id._, _Ceremonies and Beliefs connected with
      Agriculture, certain Dates of the Solar Year, and the Weather in
      Morocco_ (Helsingfors, 1913), pp. 88 _sq._

  M41 Seven different sorts of magical plants gathered at Midsummer. Nine
      different sorts of plants gathered at Midsummer. Dreams of love on
      flowers at Midsummer Eve. Love’s watery mirror at Midsummer Eve.

  144 J. Lecœur, _Esquisses du Bocage Normand_ (Condé-sur-Noireau,
      1883-1887), ii. 9.

  145 K. Bartsch, _Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche aus Mecklenburg_ (Vienna,
      1879-1890), ii. 285.

  146 J. A. E. Köhler, _Volksbrauch, Aberglauben, Sagen und andre alte
      Ueberlieferungen im Voigtlande_ (Leipsic, 1867), p. 376.

  147 O. Freiherr von Reinsberg-Düringsfeld, _Fest-Kalender aus Böhmen_
      (Prague, N.D.), p. 312.

  148 Reinsberg-Düringsfeld, _loc. cit._

  149 M. Töppen, _Aberglauben aus Masuren_2 (Danzig, 1867), p. 72.

  M42 Garlands of flowers of nine sorts gathered at Midsummer and used in
      divination and medicine.

  150 Reinsberg-Düringsfeld, _loc. cit._

  151 J. A. E. Köhler, _Volksbrauch_, etc., _im Voigtlande_, p. 376.

  152 C. Lemke, _Volksthümliches in Ostpreussen_ (Mohrungen, 1884-1887),
      i. 20.

  153 P. Drechsler, _Sitte, Brauch und Volksglaube in Schlesien_ (Leipsic,
      1903-1906), i. 144 _sq._

  154 Le Baron de Reinsberg-Düringsfeld, _Calendrier Belge_ (Brussels,
      1861-1862), i. 423.

  155 Marie Trevelyan, _Folk-lore and Folk-stories of Wales_ (London,
      1909), p. 252.

  156 M. Töppen, _Aberglauben aus Masuren_,2 p. 72.

  157 M. Töppen, _op. cit._ p. 71.

  158 A. Wiedemann, _Aus dem inneren und äussern Leben der Ehsten_ (St.
      Petersburg, 1876), pp. 362 _sq._

  159 L. Lloyd, _Peasant Life in Sweden_ (London, 1870), pp. 267 _sq._

  160 Willibald Müller, _Beiträge zur Volkskunde der Deutschen in Mähren_
      (Vienna and Olmütz, 1893), p. 264.

  161 W. von Schulenburg, _Wendisches Volksthum_ (Berlin, 1882), p. 145.

  M43 St. John’s wort (_Hypericum perforatum_) gathered for magical
      purposes at Midsummer. St. John’s blood on St. John’s Day.

  162 Montanus, _Die deutschen Volksfeste, Volksbräuche und deutscher
      Volksglaube_ (Iserlohn, N.D.), p. 145; A. Wuttke, _Der deutsche
      Volksaberglaube_2 (Berlin, 1869), p. 100, § 134; I. V. Zingerle,
      “Wald, Bäume, Kräuter,” _Zeitschrift für deutsche Mythologie und
      Sittenkunde_, i. (1853) p. 329; A. Schlossar, “Volksmeinung und
      Volksaberglaube aus der deutschen Steiermark,” _Germania_, N.R.,
      xxiv. (1891) p. 387; E. Meier, _Deutsche Sagen, Sitten und Gebräuche
      aus Schwaben_ (Stuttgart, 1852), p. 428; J. Brand, _Popular
      Antiquities of Great Britain_ (London, 1882-1883), i. 307, 312; T.
      F. Thiselton Dyer, _Folk-lore of Plants_ (London, 1889), pp. 62,
      286; Rev. Hilderic Friend, _Flowers and Flower Lore_, Third Edition
      (London, 1886), pp. 147, 149, 150, 540; G. Finamore, _Credenze, Usi
      e Costumi Abruzzesi_ (Palermo, 1890), pp. 161 _sq._; G. Pitrè,
      _Spettacoli e Feste Popolari Siciliane_ (Palermo, 1881), p. 309. One
      authority lays down the rule that you should gather the plant
      fasting and in silence (J. Brand, _op. cit._ p. 312). According to
      Sowerby, the _Hypericum perforatum_ flowers in England about July
      and August (_English Botany_, vol. v. London, 1796, p. 295). We
      should remember, however, that in the old calendar Midsummer Day
      fell twelve days later than at present. The reform of the calendar
      probably put many old floral superstitions out of joint.

  163 Bingley, _Tour round North Wales_ (1800), ii. 237, quoted by T. F.
      Thiselton Dyer, _British Popular Customs_ (London, 1876), p. 320.
      Compare Marie Trevelyan, _Folk-lore and Folk-stories of Wales_
      (London, 1909), p. 251: “St. John’s, or Midsummer Day, was an
      important festival. St. John’s wort, gathered at noon on that day,
      was considered good for several complaints. The old saying went that
      if anybody dug the devil’s bit at midnight on the eve of St. John,
      the roots were then good for driving the devil and witches away.”
      Apparently by “the devil’s bit” we are to understand St. John’s
      wort.

  164 J. L. M. Noguès, _Les mœurs d’autrefois en Saintonge et en Aunis_
      (Saintes, 1891), pp. 71 _sq._

  165 Alois John, _Sitte, Brauch und Volksglaube im deutschen Westböhmen_
      (Prague, 1905), p. 84. They call the plant “witch’s herb”
      (_Hexenkraut_).

  166 James Sowerby, _English Botany_, vol. v. (London, 1796), p. 295.

  167 Montanus, _Die deutschen Volksfeste, Volksbräuche und deutscher
      Volksglaube_ (Iserlohn, N.D.), p. 35.

  168 T. F. Thiselton Dyer, _Folk-lore of Plants_ (London, 1889), p. 286;
      K. Bartsch, _Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche aus Mecklenburg_, ii. p.
      291, § 1450_a_. The Germans of Bohemia ascribe wonderful virtues to
      the red juice extracted from the yellow flowers of St. John’s wort
      (W. Müller, _Beiträge zur Volkskunde der Deutschen in Mähren_,
      Vienna and Olmütz, 1893, p. 264).

  169 K. Bartsch, _op. cit._ ii. p. 286, § 1433. The blood is also a
      preservative against many diseases (_op. cit._ ii. p. 290, § 1444).

  170 A. Kuhn, _Märkische Sagen und Märchen_ (Berlin, 1843), p. 387, §
      105.

_  171 Die gestriegelte Rockenphilosophie_5 (Chemnitz, 1759), pp. 246
      _sq._; Montanus, _Die deutschen Volksfesten, Volksbräuche und
      deutscher Volksglaube_, p. 147.

  172 Berthold Seeman, _Viti, An Account of a Government Mission to the
      Vitian or Fijian Islands in the years 1860-61_ (Cambridge, 1862), p.
      63.

  M44 Mouse-ear hawkweed (_Hieracium pilosella_) gathered for magical
      purposes at Midsummer.

  173 James Sowerby, _English Botany_, vol. xvi. (London, 1803) p. 1093.

  174 K. Seifart, _Sagen, Märchen, Schwänke und Gebräuche aus Stadt und
      Stift Hildesheim_2 (Hildesheim, 1889), p. 177, § 12.

  175 C. L. Rochholz, _Deutscher Glaube und Brauch_ (Berlin, 1867), i. 9.

  176 J. V. Grohmann, _Aberglauben und Gebräuche aus Böhmen und Mähren_
      (Prague and Leipsic, 1864), p. 98, § 681.

  177 A. Wuttke, _Der deutsche Volksaberglaube_2 (Berlin, 1869), p. 100, §
      134.

  M45 Mountain arnica gathered for magical purposes at Midsummer.

  178 J. A. E. Köhler, _Volksbrauch, Aberglauben, Sagen und andre alte
      Ueberlieferungen im Voigtlande_ (Leipsic, 1867), p. 376. The belief
      and practice are similar at Grün, near Asch, in Western Bohemia. See
      Alois John, _Sitte, Brauch und Volksglaube im deutschen Westböhmen_
      (Prague, 1905), p. 84.

  179 F. Panzer, _Beitrag zur deutschen Mythologie_ (Munich, 1848-1855),
      ii. 299; _Bavaria, Landes- und Volkskunde des Königreichs Bayern_,
      iii. (Munich, 1865), p. 342; I. V. Zingerle, _Sitten, Bräuche und
      Meinungen des Tiroler Volkes_2 (Innsbruck, 1871), p. 160, § 1363.

  M46 Mugwort (_Artemisia vulgaris_) gathered for magical purposes at
      Midsummer. Mugwort in China and Japan.

  180 J. Grimm, _Deutsche Mythologie_,4 ii. 1013; A. de Gubernatis,
      _Mythologie des Plantes_ (Paris, 1878-1882), i. 189 _sq._; Rev.
      Hilderic Friend, _Flowers and Flower Lore_, Third Edition (London,
      1886), p. 75. In England mugwort is very common in waste ground,
      hedges, and the borders of fields. It flowers throughout August and
      later. The root is woody and perennial. The smooth stems, three or
      four feet high, are erect, branched, and leafy, and marked by many
      longitudinal purplish ribs. The pinnatified leaves alternate on the
      stalk; they are smooth and dark green above, cottony and very white
      below. The flowers are in simple leafy spikes or clusters; the
      florets are purplish, furnished with five stamens and five
      awl-shaped female flowers, which constitute the radius. The whole
      plant has a weak aromatic scent and a slightly bitter flavour. Its
      medical virtues are of no importance. See James Sowerby, _English
      Botany_, xiv. (London, 1802) p. 978. Altogether it is not easy to
      see why such an inconspicuous and insignificant flower should play
      so large a part in popular superstition. Mugwort (_Artemisia
      vulgaris_) is not to be confounded with wormwood (_Artemisia
      absinthium_), which is quite a different flower in appearance,
      though it belongs to the same genus. Wormwood is common in England,
      flowering about August. The flowers are in clusters, each of them
      broad, hemispherical, and drooping, with a buff-coloured disc. The
      whole plant is of a pale whitish green and clothed with a short
      silky down. It is remarkable for its intense bitterness united to a
      peculiar strong aromatic odour. It is often used to keep insects
      from clothes and furniture, and as a medicine is one of the most
      active bitters. See James Sowerby, _English Botany_, vol. xviii.
      (London, 1804) p. 1230.

  181 Breuil, “Du culte de St.-Jean-Baptiste,” _Mémoires de la Société des
      Antiquaires de Picardie_, viii. (1845) p. 224, note 1, quoting the
      curé of Manancourt, near Péronne.

  182 L. Pineau, _Le folk-lore du Poitou_ (Paris, 1892), p. 499.

  183 J. V. Grohmann, _Aberglauben und Gebräuche aus Böhmen und Mähren_
      (Prague and Leipsic, 1864), pp. 90 _sq._, §§ 635-637.

  184 F. Panzer, _Beitrag zur deutschen Mythologie_, i. p. 249, § 283; J.
      Grimm, _Deutsche Mythologie_,4 ii. 1013; I. V. Zingerle, in
      _Zeitschrift für deutsche Mythologie und Sittenkunde_, i. (1853) p.
      331. and _ib._ iv. (1859) p. 42 (quoting a work of the seventeenth
      century); F. J. Vonbun, _Beiträge zur deutschen Mythologie_ (Chur,
      1862), p. 133, note 1. See also above, vol. i. pp. 162, 163, 165,
      174, 177.

  185 A. de Gubernatis, _Mythologie der Plantes_ (Paris, 1878-1882), i.
      190, quoting Du Cange.

  186 A. de Nore, _Coutumes, Mythes et Traditions des Provinces de France_
      (Paris and Lyons, 1846), p. 262.

  187 Jules Lecœur, _Esquisses du Bocage Normand_ (Condé-sur-Noireau,
      1883-1886), ii. 8.

  188 Joseph Train, _Historical and Statistical Account of the Isle of
      Man_ (Douglas, Isle of Man, 1845), ii. 120.

  189 Le Baron de Reinsberg-Düringsfeld, _Calendrier Belge_ (Brussels,
      1861-1862), i. 422.

  190 J. J. M. de Groot, _The Religious System of China_, vi. (Leyden,
      1910) p. 1079, compare p. 947.

  191 J. J. M. de Groot, _op. cit._ vi. 947.

  192 J. J. M. de Groot, _op. cit._ vi. 946 _sq._

  193 Rev. John Batchelor, _The Ainu and their Folk-lore_ (London, 1901),
      p. 318, compare pp. 315 _sq._, 329, 370, 372.

_  194 Zeitschrift für deutsche Mythologie und Sittenkunde_, iv. (1859) p.
      42; Montanus, _Die deutschen Volksfeste_, p. 141. The German name of
      mugwort (_Beifuss_) is said to be derived from this superstition.

  195 K. Bartsch, _Sagen, Märchen, und Gebräuche aus Mecklenburg_ (Vienna,
      1879-1880), ii. 290, § 1445.

  196 Montanus, _Die deutschen Volksfeste_, p. 141.

  197 J. Brand, _Popular Antiquities of Great Britain_ (London,
      1882-1883), i. 334 _sq._, quoting Lupton, Thomas Hill, and Paul
      Barbette. A precisely similar belief is recorded with regard to
      wormwood (_armoise_) by the French writer J. B. Thiers, who adds
      that only small children and virgins could find the wonderful coal.
      See J. B. Thiers, _Traité des Superstitions_5 (Paris, 1741), i. 300.
      In Annam people think that wormwood puts demons to flight; hence
      they hang up bunches of its leaves in their houses at the New Year.
      See Paul Giran, _Magie et Religion Annamites_ (Paris, 1912), p. 118,
      compare pp. 185, 256.

  198 C. Lemke, _Volksthümliches in Ostpreussen_ (Mohrungen, 1884-1887),
      i. 21. As to mugwort (German _Beifuss_, French _armoise_), see
      further A. de Gubernatis, _Mythologie des Plantes_, ii. 16 _sqq._;
      J. Grimm, _Deutsche Mythologie_,4 iii. 356 _sq._

  M47 Orpine (_Sedum telephium_) used in divination at Midsummer.

  199 James Sowerby, _English Botany_, vol. xix. (London, 1804) p. 1319.

  200 John Aubrey, _Remains of Gentilisme and Judaisme_ (London, 1881),
      pp. 25 _sq._; J. Brand, _Popular Antiquities of Great Britain_
      (London, 1882-1883), i. 329 _sqq._; Rev. Hilderic Friend, _Flowers
      and Flower Lore_, Third Edition (London, 1886), p. 136; D. H.
      Moutray Read, “Hampshire Folk-lore,” _Folk-lore_, xxii. (1911) p.
      325. Compare J. Sowerby, _English Botany_, vol. xix. (London, 1804),
      p. 1319: “Like all succulent plants this is very tenacious of life,
      and will keep growing long after it has been torn from its native
      spot. The country people in Norfolk sometimes hang it up in their
      cottages, judging by its vigour of the health of some absent
      friend.” It seems that in England the course of love has sometimes
      been divined by means of sprigs of red sage placed in a basin of
      rose-water on Midsummer Eve (J. Brand, _op. cit._ i. 333).

  201 M. Töppen, _Aberglauben aus Masuren_2 (Danzig, 1867), pp. 71 _sq._;
      A. Kuhn, _Sagen, Gebräuche und Märchen aus Westfalen_ (Leipsic,
      1859), ii. 176, § 487; E. Hoffmann-Krayer, _Feste und Bräuche des
      Schweizervolkes_ (Zurich, 1913), p. 163. In Switzerland the species
      employed for this purpose on Midsummer day is _Sedum reflexum_. The
      custom is reported from the Emmenthal. In Germany a root of orpine,
      dug up on St. John’s morning and hung between the shoulders, is
      sometimes thought to be a cure for hemorrhoids (Montanus, _Die
      deutschen Volksfeste_, p. 145). Perhaps the “oblong, tapering,
      fleshy, white lumps” of the roots (J. Sowerby, _English Botany_,
      vol. xix. London, 1804, p. 1319) are thought to bear some likeness
      to the hemorrhoids, and to heal them on the principle that the
      remedy should resemble the disease.

  M48 Vervain gathered for magical purposes at Midsummer. Magical virtue
      of four-leaved clover on Midsummer Eve.

  202 See above, vol. i. pp. 162, 163, 165. In England vervain (_Verbena
      officinalis_) grows not uncommonly by road sides, in dry sunny
      pastures, and in waste places about villages. It flowers in July.
      The flowers are small and sessile, the corolla of a very pale lilac
      hue, its tube enclosing the four short curved stamens. The root of
      the plant, worn by a string round the neck, is an old superstitious
      medicine for scrofulous disorders. See James Sowerby, _English
      Botany_, vol. xi. (London, 1800) p. 767.

  203 Dr. Otero Acevado, in _Le Temps_, September 1898. See above, vol. i.
      p. 208, note 1.

  204 Le Baron de Reinsberg-Düringsfeld, _Calendrier Belge_ (Brussels,
      1861-1862), i. 422.

  205 A. de Nore, _Coutumes, Mythes et Traditions des Provinces de
      France_, p. 262; Amélie Bosquet, _La Normandie romanesque et
      merveilleuse_, p. 294; J. Lecœur, _Esquisses du Bocage Normand_, i.
      287, ii. 8. In Saintonge and Aunis the plant was gathered on
      Midsummer Eve for the purpose of evoking or exorcising spirits (J.
      L. M. Noguès, _Les mœurs d’autrefois en Saintonge et en Aunis_, p.
      72).

  206 J. V. Grohmann, _Aberglauben und Gebräuche aus Böhmen und Mähren_,
      p. 207, § 1437.

  207 A. Kuhn, _Sagen, Gebräuche und Märchen aus Westfalen_ (Leipsic,
      1859), ii. 177, citing Chambers, _Edinburgh Journal_, 2nd July 1842.

  208 I. V. Zingerle, _Sitten, Bräuche und Meinungen des Tiroler Volkes_2
      (Innsbruck, 1871), p. 107, § 919.

  209 Laisnel de la Salle, _Croyances et Légendes du Centre de la France_
      (Paris, 1875), i. 288.

  210 J. L. M. Noguès, _Les mœurs d’autrefois en Saintonge et en Aunis_,
      pp. 71 _sq._

  211 Le Baron de Reinsberg-Düringsfeld, _Calendrier Belge_, i. 423.

  M49 Camomile gathered for magical purposes at Midsummer.

  212 W. Kolbe, _Hessische Volks-Sitten und Gebräuche_2 (Marburg, 1888),
      p. 72; Sophus Bugge, _Studien über die Entstehung der nordischen
      Götter- und Heldensagen_ (Munich, 1889), pp. 35, 295 _sq._; Fr.
      Kauffmann, _Balder_ (Strasburg, 1902), pp. 45, 61. The flowers of
      common camomile (_Anthemis nobilis_) are white with a yellow disk,
      which in time becomes conical. The whole plant is intensely bitter,
      with a peculiar but agreeable smell. As a medicine it is useful for
      stomachic troubles. In England it does not generally grow wild. See
      James Sowerby, _English Botany_, vol. xiv. (London, 1802) p. 980.

  213 A. Kuhn, _Sagen, Gebräuche und Märchen aus Westfalen_ (Leipsic,
      1859), ii. 177, § 488.

  214 M. Töppen, _Aberglauben aus Masuren_2 (Danzig, 1867), p. 71.

  M50 Mullein (_Verbascum_) gathered for magical purposes at Midsummer.

  215 A. Witzschel, _Sagen, Sitten und Gebräuche aus Thüringen_ (Vienna,
      1878), p. 289, § 139.

  216 W. J. A. von Tettau und J. D. H. Temme, _Volkssagen Ostpreussens,
      Litthauens und Westpreussens_ (Berlin, 1837), p. 283.

  217 James Sowerby, _English Botany_, vol. vii. (London, 1798), p. 487.
      As to great mullein or high taper, see _id._, vol. viii. (London,
      1799), p. 549.

  218 Tettau und Temme, _loc. cit._ As to mullein at Midsummer, see also
      above, vol. i. pp. 190, 191.

  M51 Seeds of fir-cones, wild thyme, elder-flowers, and purple
      loosestrife gathered for magical purposes at Midsummer.

  219 J. V. Grohmann, _Aberglauben und Gebräuche aus Böhmen und Mähren_,
      p. 205, § 1426.

  220 J. V. Grohmann, _op. cit._ p. 93, § 648.

  221 J. A. E. Köhler, _Volksbrauch, Aberglauben, Sagen und andre alte
      Ueberlieferungen im Voigtlande_ (Leipsic, 1867), p. 377.

  222 Alois John, _Sitte, Brauch und Volksglaube im deutschen Westböhmen_
      (Prague, 1905), p. 84.

  223 J. N. Ritter von Alpenburg, _Mythen und Sagen Tirols_ (Zurich,
      1857), p. 397.

  224 C. Russwurm, “Aberglaube aus Russland,” _Zeitschrift für deutsche
      Mythologie und Sittenkunde_, iv. (1859) pp. 153 _sq._ The purple
      loosestrife is one of our most showy English wild plants. In July
      and August it may be seen flowering on the banks of rivers, ponds,
      and ditches. The separate flowers are in axillary whorls, which
      together form a loose spike of a reddish variable purple. See James
      Sowerby, _English Botany_, vol. xv. (London, 1802) p. 1061.

  M52 Magical properties attributed to fern seed at Midsummer.

  225 J. Brand, _Popular Antiquities_, i. 314 _sqq._; Hilderic Friend,
      _Flowers and Flower Lore_, Third Edition (London, 1886), pp. 60, 78,
      150, 279-283; Miss C. S. Burne and Miss G. F. Jackson, _Shropshire
      Folk-lore_ (London, 1883), p. 242; Marie Trevelyan, _Folk-lore and
      Folk-stories of Wales_ (London, 1909), pp. 89 _sq._; J. B. Thiers,
      _Traité des Superstitions_ (Paris, 1679), p. 314; J. Lecœur,
      _Esquisses du Bocage Normand_, i. 290; P. Sébillot, _Coutumes
      populaires de la Haute-Bretagne_ (Paris, 1886), p. 217; _id._,
      _Traditions et Superstitions de la Haute-Bretagne_ (Paris, 1882),
      ii. 336; A. Wuttke, _Der deutsche Volksaberglaube_2 (Berlin, 1869),
      pp. 94 _sq._, § 123; F. J. Vonbun, _Beiträge zur deutschen
      Mythologie_ (Chur, 1862), pp. 133 _sqq._; Montanus, _Die deutschen
      Volksfesten_, p. 144; K. Bartsch, _Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche aus
      Mecklenburg_, ii. 288, § 1437; M. Töppen, _Aberglauben aus
      Masuren_,2 p. 72; A. Schlossar, “Volksmeinung und Volksaberglaube
      aus der deutschen Steiermark,” _Germania_, N.R., xxiv. (1891) p.
      387; Theodor Vernaleken, _Mythen und Bräuche des Volkes in
      Oesterreich_ (Vienna, 1859), p. 309; J. N. Ritter von Alpenburg,
      _Mythen und Sagen Tirols_ (Zurich, 1857), pp. 407 _sq._; I. V.
      Zingerle, _Sitten, Bräuche und Meinungen des Tiroler Volkes_2
      (Innsbruck, 1871), p. 103, § 882, p. 158, § 1350; Christian
      Schneller, _Märchen und Sagen aus Wälschtirol_ (Innsbruck, 1867), p.
      237; J. V. Grohmann, _Aberglauben und Gebräuche aus Böhmen und
      Mähren_, p. 97, §§ 673-677; Reinsberg-Düringsfeld, _Fest-Kalendar
      aus Böhmen_ (Prague, N.D.), pp. 311 _sq._; W. Müller, _Beiträge zur
      Volkskunde der Deutschen in Mähren_ (Vienna and Olmutz, 1893), p.
      265; R. F. Kaindl, _Die Huzulen_ (Vienna, 1894), p. 106; _id._,
      “Zauberglaube bei den Huzulen,” _Globus_, lxxvi. (1899) p. 275; P.
      Drechsler, _Sitte, Brauch und Volksglaube in Schlesien_ (Leipsic,
      1903-1906), i. 142, § 159; G. Finamore, _Credenze, Usi e Costumi
      Abruzzesi_ (Palermo, 1890), p. 161; C. Russwurm, “Aberglaube in
      Russland,” _Zeitschrift für deutsche Mythologie und Sittenkunde_,
      iv. (1859) pp. 152 _sq._; A. de Gubernatis, _Mythologie des Plantes_
      (Paris, 1878-1882), ii. 144 _sqq._ The practice of gathering ferns
      or fern seed on the Eve of St. John was forbidden by the synod of
      Ferrara in 1612. See J. B. Thiers, _Traité des Superstitions_5
      (Paris, 1741), i. 299 _sq._ In a South Slavonian story we read how a
      cowherd understood the language of animals, because fern-seed
      accidentally fell into his shoe on Midsummer Day (F. S. Krauss,
      _Sagen und Märchen der Südslaven_, Leipsic, 1883-1884, ii. 424
      _sqq._, No. 159). On this subject I may refer to my article, “The
      Language of Animals,” _The Archaeological Review_, i. (1888) pp. 164
      _sqq._

  226 J. V. Grohmann, _op. cit._ p. 97, §§ 673, 675.

_  227 Zeitschrift für deutsche Mythologie und Sittenkunde_, iv. (1859)
      pp. 152 _sq._; A. de Gubernatis, _Mythologie des Plantes_, ii. 146.

  228 M. Longworth Dames and E. Seemann, “Folk-lore of the Azores,”
      _Folk-lore_, xiv. (1903) pp. 142 _sq._

  229 August Witzschel, _Sagen, Sitten und Gebräuche aus Thüringen_
      (Vienna, 1878), p. 275, § 82.

  M53 Branches of hazel cut at Midsummer to serve as divining-rods.

  230 W. Müller, _Beiträge zur Volkskunde der Deutschen in Mähren_ (Vienna
      and Olmutz, 1893), p. 265; K. Bartsch, _Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche
      aus Mecklenburg_, ii. p. 285, § 1431, p. 288, § 1439; J. Napier,
      _Folk-lore, or Superstitious Beliefs in the West of Scotland_
      (Paisley, 1879), p. 125.

  231 A. Kuhn, _Märkische Sagen und Märchen_ (Berlin, 1843), p. 330. As to
      the divining-rod in general, see A. Kuhn, _Die Herabkunft des Feuers
      und des Göttertranks_2 (Gütersloh, 1886), pp. 181 _sqq._; J. Grimm,
      _Deutsche Mythologie_,4 ii. 813 _sqq._; S. Baring-Gould, _Curious
      Myths of the Middle Ages_ (London, 1884), pp. 55 _sqq._ Kuhn
      plausibly suggests that the forked shape of the divining-rod is a
      rude representation of the human form. He compares the shape and
      magic properties of mandragora.

  232 F. Panzer, _Beitrag zur deutschen Mythologie_ (Munich, 1848-1855),
      i. 296 _sq._

  233 E. Krause, “Abergläubische Kuren und sonstiger Aberglaube in Berlin
      und nächster Umgebung,” _Zeitschrift für Ethnologie_, xv. (1883) p.
      89.

  234 J. N. Ritter von Alpenburg, _Mythen und Sagen Tirols_ (Zurich,
      1857), p. 393.

  235 Karl Freiherr von Leoprechting, _Aus dem Lechrain_ (Munich, 1855),
      p. 98. Some people in Swabia say that the hazel branch which is to
      serve as a divining-rod should be cut at midnight on Good Friday,
      and that it should be laid on the altar and mass said over it. If
      that is done, we are told that a Protestant can use it to quite as
      good effect as a Catholic. See E. Meier, _Deutsche Sagen, Sitten und
      Gebräuche aus Schwaben_ (Stuttgart, 1852), pp. 244 _sq._, No. 268.
      Some of the Wends of the Spreewald agree that the divining-rod
      should be made of hazel-wood, and they say that it ought to be wrapt
      in swaddling-bands, laid on a white plate, and baptized on Easter
      Saturday. Many of them, however, think that it should be made of
      “yellow willow.” See Wilibald von Schulenburg, _Wendische Volkssagen
      und Gebräuche aus dem Spreewald_ (Leipsic, 1880), pp. 204 _sq._ A
      remarkable property of the hazel in the opinion of Bavarian peasants
      is that it is never struck by lightning; this immunity it has
      enjoyed ever since the day when it protected the Mother of God
      against a thunderstorm on her flight into Egypt. See _Bavaria,
      Landes- und Volkskunde des Königreichs Bayern_, i. (Munich, 1860) p.
      371.

  M54 The divining-rod in Sweden obtained on Midsummer Eve.

  236 J. Grimm, _Deutsche Mythologie_,4 iii. 289, referring to Dybeck’s
      _Runa_, 1844, p. 22, and 1845, p. 80.

  237 L. Lloyd, _Peasant Life in Sweden_ (London, 1870), pp. 266 _sq._

  M55 The mythical springwort supposed to bloom on Midsummer Eve.

  238 Heinrich Pröhle, _Harzsagen_ (Leipsic, 1859), i. 99, No. 23.

  M56 Another way of catching the springwort. The white bloom of chicory.

  239 J. Grimm, _Deutsche Mythologie_,4 ii. 812 _sq._, iii. 289; A. Kuhn,
      _Die Herabkunft des Feuers und des Göttertranks_2 (Gütersloh, 1886),
      pp. 188-193; Walter K. Kelly, _Curiosities of Indo-European
      Tradition and Folk-lore_ (London, 1863), pp. 174-178; J. F. L.
      Woeste, _Volksüberlieferungen in der Grafschaft Mark_ (Iserlohn,
      1848), p. 44; A. Kuhn und W. Schwartz, _Norddeutsche Sagen, Märchen
      und Gebräuche_ (Leipsic, 1848), p. 459, No. 444; Ernst Meier,
      _Deutsche Sagen, Sitten und Gebräuche aus Schwaben_ (Stuttgart,
      1852), pp. 240 _sq._, No. 265; C. Russwurm, “Aberglaube in
      Russland,” _Zeitschrift für deutsche Mythologie und Sittenkunde_,
      iv. (Göttingen, 1859) p. 153; J. V. Grohmann, _Aberglauben und
      Gebräuche aus Böhmen und Mähren_ (Prague and Leipsic, 1864), p. 88,
      No. 623; Paul Drechsler, _Sitte, Brauch und Volksglaube in
      Schlesien_ (Leipsic, 1903-1906), ii. 207 _sq._ In Swabia some people
      say that the bird which brings the springwort is not the woodpecker
      but the hoopoe (E. Meier, _op. cit._ p. 240). Others associate the
      springwort with other birds. See H. Pröhle, _Harzsagen_ (Leipsic,
      1859), ii. 116, No. 308; A. Kuhn, _Die Herabkunft des Feuers_,2 p.
      190. It is from its power of springing or bursting open all doors
      and locks that the springwort derives its name (German
      _Springwurzel_).

  240 Pliny, _Nat. Hist._ x. 40.

  241 Ernst Meier, _Deutsche Sagen, Sitten und Gebräuche aus Schwaben_
      (Stuttgart, 1852), pp. 238 _sq._, No. 264.

  M57 The magical virtues ascribed to plants at Midsummer may be thought
      to be derived from the sun, then at the height of his power and
      glory. Hence it is possible that the Midsummer bonfires stand in
      direct relation to the sun.
  M58 This consideration tends to bring us back to an intermediate
      position between the rival theories of Mannhardt and Westermarck.

  242 See above, pp. 45, 46, 49, 54, 55, 59, 60, 62, 64, 65, 66, 67.

  M59 Miscellaneous examples of the baleful activity of witches at
      Midsummer and of the precautions which it is necessary to take
      against them at that time. Witches in Voigtland. The witches’
      Sabbath in Prussia on Walpurgis Night and Midsummer Eve. Midsummer
      Eve a witching time among the South Slavs.

  243 Le Baron de Reinsberg-Düringsfeld, _Calendrier Belge_ (Brussels,
      1861-1862), i. 423 _sq._

  244 Anton Birlinger, _Völksthumliches aus Schwaben_, Freiburg im
      Breisgau, (1861-1862), i. 278, § 437.

  245 Robert Eisel, _Sagenbuch des Voigtlandes_ (Gera, 1871), p. 210, Nr.
      551.

  246 W. J. A. von Tettau und J. D. H. Temme, _Die Volkssagen
      Ostpreussens, Litthauens und Westpreussens_ (Berlin, 1837), pp. 263
      _sq._

  247 F. S. Krauss, _Volksglaube und religiöser Brauch der Südslaven_
      (Münster i. W., 1890), p. 128.

  M60 Relation of the fire-festivals to the myth of Balder.
  M61 Veneration of the Druids for the mistletoe.

  248 Pliny derives the name Druid from the Greek _drus_, “oak.” He did
      not know that the Celtic word for oak was the same (_daur_), and
      that therefore Druid, in the sense of priest of the oak, might be
      genuine Celtic, not borrowed from the Greek. This etymology is
      accepted by some modern scholars. See G. Curtius, _Grundzüge der
      Griechischen Etymologie_5 (Leipsic, 1879), pp. 238 _sq._; A.
      Vaniček, _Griechisch-Lateinisch Etymologisches Wörterbuch_ (Leipsic,
      1877), pp. 368 _sqq._; (Sir) John Rhys, _Celtic Heathendom_ (London
      and Edinburgh, 1888), pp. 221 _sqq._ However, this derivation is
      disputed by other scholars, who prefer to derive the name from a
      word meaning knowledge or wisdom, so that Druid would mean “wizard”
      or “magician.” See J. Grimm, _Deutsche Mythologie_,4 iii. 305; Otto
      Schrader, _Reallexikon der Indogermanischen Altertumskunde_
      (Strasburg, 1901), pp. 638 _sq._; H. D’Arbois de Jubainville, _Les
      Druides et les Dieux Celtiques à forme d’animaux_ (Paris, 1906), pp.
      1, 11, 83 _sqq._ The last-mentioned scholar formerly held that the
      etymology of Druid was unknown. See his _Cours de Littérature
      Celtique_, i. (Paris, 1883) pp. 117-127.

  249 Pliny, _Nat. Hist._ xvi. 249-251. In the first edition of this book
      I understood Pliny to say that the Druidical ceremony of cutting the
      mistletoe fell in the sixth month, that is, in June; and hence I
      argued that it probably formed part of the midsummer festival. But
      in accordance with Latin usage the words of Pliny (_sexta luna_,
      literally “sixth moon”) can only mean “the sixth day of the month.”
      I have to thank my friend Mr. W. Warde Fowler for courteously
      pointing out my mistake to me. Compare my note in the _Athenaeum_,
      November 21st, 1891, p. 687. I also misunderstood Pliny’s words,
      “_et saeculi post tricesimum annum, quia jam virium abunde habeat
      nec sit sui dimidia_,” applying them to the tree instead of to the
      moon, to which they really refer. After _saeculi_ we must understand
      _principium_ from the preceding _principia_. With the thirty years’
      cycle of the Druids we may compare the sixty years’ cycle of the
      Boeotian festival of the Great Daedala (Pausanias, ix. 3. 5; see
      _The Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings_, ii. 140 _sq._), which,
      like the Druidical rite in question, was essentially a worship, or
      perhaps rather a conjuration, of the sacred oak. Whether any deeper
      affinity, based on common Aryan descent, may be traced between the
      Boeotian and the Druidical ceremony, I do not pretend to determine.
      In India a cycle of sixty years, based on the sidereal revolution of
      Jupiter, has long been in use. The sidereal revolution of Jupiter is
      accomplished in approximately twelve solar years (more exactly 11
      years and 315 days), so that five of its revolutions make a period
      of approximately sixty years. It seems, further, that in India a
      much older cycle of sixty lunar years was recognized. See Christian
      Lassen, _Indische Alter-thumskunde_, i.2 (Leipsic, 1867), pp. 988
      _sqq._; Prof. F. Kielhorn (Göttingen), “The Sixty-year Cycle of
      Jupiter,” _The Indian Antiquary_, xviii. (1889) pp. 193-209; J. F.
      Fleet, “A New System of the Sixty-year Cycle of Jupiter,” _ibid._
      pp. 221-224. In Tibet the use of a sixty-years’ cycle has been
      borrowed from India. See W. Woodville Rockhill, “Tibet,” _Journal of
      the Royal Asiatic Society for 1891_ (London, 1891), p. 207 note 1.

  M62 Medical and magical virtues ascribed to mistletoe in ancient Italy.

  250 Pliny, _Nat. Hist._ xxiv. 11 _sq._

  251 Pliny, _Nat. Hist._ xxxiii. 94.

  M63 Agreement between the Druids and the ancient Italians as to the
      valuable properties of mistletoe.
  M64 Similar beliefs as to mistletoe among the Ainos of Japan.

  252 Rev. John Batchelor, _The Ainu and their Folk-lore_ (London, 1901),
      p. 222.

  M65 Similar beliefs as to mistletoe among the Torres Straits Islanders
      and the Walos of Senegambia. These beliefs perhaps originate in a
      notion that the mistletoe has fallen from heaven.

_  253 Reports of the Cambridge Anthropological Expedition to Torres
      Straits_, v. (Cambridge, 1904) pp. 198 _sq._

  254 M. le baron Roger (ancien Gouverneur de la Colonie française du
      Sénégal), “Notice sur le Gouvernement, les Mœurs, et les
      Superstitions des Nègres du pays de Walo,” _Bulletin de la Société
      de Géographie_, viii. (Paris, 1827) pp. 357 _sq._

  M66 Such a notion would explain the ritual used in cutting mistletoe and
      other parasites.

  255 Above, p. 77.

  256 Compare _The Times_, 2nd April, 1901, p. 9: “The Tunis correspondent
      of the _Temps_ reports that in the course of certain operations in
      the Belvedere Park in Tunis the workmen discovered a huge circle of
      enormous stumps of trees ranged round an immense square stone
      showing signs of artistic chisel work. In the neighbourhood were
      found a sort of bronze trough containing a gold sickle in perfect
      preservation, and a sarcophagus containing a skeleton. About the
      forehead of the skeleton was a gold band, having in the centre the
      image of the sun, accompanied by hieratic signs, which are
      provisionally interpreted as the monogram of Teutates. The discovery
      of such remains in North Africa has created a sensation.” As to the
      Celtic god Teutates and the human sacrifices offered to him, see
      Lucan, _Pharsalia_, i. 444 _sq._:

      “_Et quibus immitis placatur sanguine diro_
      _ Teutates horrensque feris altaribus Hesus._”

      Compare (Sir) John Rhys, _Celtic Heathendom_ (London and Edinburgh,
      1888), pp. 44 _sqq._, 232. Branches of the sacred olive at Olympia,
      which were to form the victors’ crowns, had to be cut with a golden
      sickle by a boy whose parents were both alive. See the Scholiast on
      Pindar, _Olymp._ iii. 60, p. 102, ed. Aug. Boeck (Leipsic, 1819). In
      Assyrian ritual it was laid down that, before felling a sacred
      tamarisk to make magical images out of the wood, the magician should
      pray to the sun-god Shamash and touch the tree with a golden axe.
      See C. Fossey, _La Magie Assyrienne_ (Paris, 1902), pp. 132 _sq._
      Some of the ancients thought that the root of the marsh-mallow,
      which was used in medicine, should be dug up with gold and then
      preserved from contact with the ground (Pliny, _Nat. Hist._ xx. 29).
      At the great horse-sacrifice in ancient India it was prescribed by
      ritual that the horse should be slain by a golden knife, because
      “gold is light” and “by means of the golden light the sacrificer
      also goes to the heavenly world.” See _The Satapatha-Brâhmana_,
      translated by Julius Eggeling, Part v. (Oxford, 1900) p. 303
      (_Sacred Books of the East_, vol. xliv.). It has been a rule of
      superstition both in ancient and modern times that certain plants,
      to which medical or magical virtues were attributed, should not be
      cut with iron. See the fragment of Sophocles’s _Root-cutters_,
      quoted by Macrobius, _Saturn_. v. 19. 9 _sq._; Virgil, _Aen._ iv.
      513 _sq._; Ovid, _Metamorph._ vii. 227; Pliny, _Nat. Hist._ xxiv.
      68, 103, 176; and above, p. 65 (as to purple loosestrife in Russia).
      On the objection to the use of iron in such cases compare F.
      Liebrecht, _Des Gervasius von Tilbury Otia Imperialia_ (Hanover,
      1856), pp. 102 _sq._; _Taboo and the Perils of the Soul_, pp. 225
      _sqq._

  257 Étienne Aymonier, “Notes sur les Coutumes et Croyances
      Superstitieuses des Cambodgiens,” _Cochinchine Française, Excursions
      et Reconnaissance_ No. 16 (Saigon, 1883), p. 136.

  258 See above, vol. i. pp. 2 _sqq._

  M67 The ancient beliefs and practices concerning mistletoe have their
      analogies in modern European folk-lore.

  259 Ernst Meier, “Über Pflanzen und Kräuter,” _Zeitschrift für deutsche
      Mythologie und Sittenkunde_, i. (Göttingen, 1853), pp. 443 _sq._ The
      sun enters the sign of Sagittarius about November 22nd.

  260 J. Grimm, _Deutsche Mythologie_,4 iii. 533, referring to Dybeck,
      _Runa_, 1845, p. 80.

  261 Marie Trevelyan, _Folk-lore and Folk-stories of Wales_ (London,
      1909), p. 87.

  M68 Medicinal virtues ascribed to mistletoe by ancients and moderns.
      Mistletoe as a cure for epilepsy.

  262 Pliny, _Nat. Hist._ xvi. 250, “_Omnia sanantem appellantes suo
      vocabulo_.” See above, p. 77.

  263 J. Grimm, _Deutsche Mythologie_,4 ii. 1009: “_Sonst aber wird das
      welsche_ olhiach, _bretagn._ ollyiach, _ir._ uileiceach, _gal._
      uileice, _d. i. allheiland_, _von_ ol, uile universalis, _als
      benennung des mistels angegeben_.” My lamented friend, the late R.
      A. Neil of Pembroke College, Cambridge, pointed out to me that in N.
      M’Alpine’s _Gaelic Dictionary_ (Seventh Edition, Edinburgh and
      London, 1877, p. 432) the Gaelic word for mistletoe is given as _an
      t’ uil_, which, Mr. Neil told me, means “all-healer.”

  264 A. de Gubernatis, _La Mythologie des Plantes_ (Paris, 1878-1882),
      ii. 73.

  265 Rev. Hilderic Friend, _Flowers and Flower Lore_, Third Edition
      (London, 1886), p. 378. Compare A. Kuhn, _Die Herabkunft des Feuers
      und des Göttertranks_2 (Gütersloh, 1886), p. 206, referring to
      Keysler, _Antiq. Sept._ p. 308.

  266 A. de Nore, _Coutumes, Mythes et Traditions des Provinces de France_
      (Paris and Lyons, 1846), pp. 102 _sq._ The local name for mistletoe
      here is _besq_, which may be derived from the Latin _viscum_.

  267 A. Kuhn, _Die Herabkunft des Feuers und des Göttertranks_2
      (Gütersloh, 1886), p. 205; Walter K. Kelly, _Curiosities of
      Indo-European Tradition and Folk-lore_ (London, 1863), p. 186.

  268 “Einige Notizen aus einem alten Kräuterbuche,” _Zeitschrift für
      deutsche Mythologie und Sittenkunde_, iv. (Göttingen, 1859) pp. 41
      _sq._

  269 Francis Pérot, “Prières, Invocations, Formules Sacrées, Incantations
      en Bourbonnais,” _Revue des Traditions Populaires_, xviii. (1903) p.
      299.

_  270 County Folk-lore_, v. _Lincolnshire_, collected by Mrs. Gutch and
      Mabel Peacock (London, 1908), p. 120.

  271 Prof. P. J. Veth, “De Leer der Signatuur, iii. De Mistel en de
      Riembloem,” _Internationales Archiv für Ethnographie_, vii. (1894)
      p. 111. He names Ray in England (about 1700), Boerhaave in Holland
      (about 1720), and Van Swieten, a pupil of Boerhaave’s (about 1745).

_  272 County Folk-lore_, vol. v. _Lincolnshire_, collected by Mrs. Gutch
      and Mabel Peacock (London, 1908), p. 120.

  273 Rev. Mr. Shaw, Minister of Elgin, quoted by Thomas Pennant in his
      “Tour in Scotland, 1769,” printed in J. Pinkerton’s _Voyages and
      Travels_, iii. (London, 1809) p. 136; J. Brand, _Popular Antiquities
      of Great Britain_ (London, 1882-1883), iii. 151.

  274 Walter K. Kelly, _Curiosities of Indo-European Tradition and
      Folk-lore_ (London, 1863), p. 186.

  M69 The medicinal virtues ascribed to mistletoe seem to be mythical,
      being fanciful inferences from the parasitic nature of the plant.

  275 On this point Prof. P. J. Veth (“De Leer der Signatuur,”
      _Internationales Archiv für Ethnographie_, vii. (1894) p. 112)
      quotes Cauvet, _Eléments d’Histoire naturelle medicale_, ii. 290:
      “_La famille des Loranthacées ne nous offre aucun intéret._”

  M70 The belief that mistletoe extinguishes fire seems based on a fancy
      that it falls on the tree in a flash of lightning.

  276 A. Kuhn, _Die Herabkunft des Feuers und des Göttertranks_2
      (Gütersloh, 1886), p. 205, referring to Dybeck, _Runa_, 1845, p. 80.

  277 A. Kuhn, _op. cit._ p. 204, referring to Rochholz, _Schweizersagen
      aus d. Aargau_, ii. 202.

  278 J. Grimm, _Deutsche Mythologie_,4 i. 153.

  279 J. V. Grohmann, _Aberglauben und Gebräuche aus Böhmen und Mähren_
      (Prague and Leipsic, 1864), p. 37, § 218. In Upper Bavaria the
      mistletoe is burned for this purpose along with the so-called
      palm-branches which were consecrated on Palm Sunday. See _Bavaria,
      Landes- und Volkskunde des Königreichs Bayern_, i. (Munich, 1860),
      p. 371.

  M71 Other wonderful properties ascribed to mistletoe; in particular it
      is thought to be a protection against witchcraft.

  280 A. Kuhn, _Die Herabkunft des Feuers und des Göttertranks_,2 p. 206,
      referring to Albertus Magnus, p. 155; Prof. P. J. Veth, “De Leer der
      Signatuur,” _Internationales Archiv für Ethnographie_, vii. (1904)
      p. 111.

  281 J. N. Ritter von Alpenburg, _Mythen und Sagen Tirols_ (Zurich,
      1857), p. 398.

  282 A. Wuttke, _Der deutsche Volksaberglaube_2 (Berlin, 1869), p. 97, §
      128; Prof. P. J. Veth, “De Leer der Signatuur,” _Internationales
      Archiv für Ethnographie_, vii. (1894) p. 111.

  283 A. Wuttke, _op. cit._ p. 267, § 419.

  284 W. Henderson, _Notes on the Folk-lore of the Northern Counties of
      England and the Borders_ (London, 1879), p. 114.

  285 Marie Trevelyan, _Folk-lore and Folk-stories of Wales_ (London,
      1909), p. 88.

  286 L. Lloyd, _Peasant Life in Sweden_ (London, 1870), p. 269.

  M72 A favourite time for gathering mistletoe is Midsummer Eve.

  287 Above, pp. 77, 78.

  288 Above, pp. 82, 84.

  289 Above, pp. 83, 86.

  290 J. Grimm, _Deutsche Mythologie_,4 iii. 353, referring to Dybeck,
      _Runa_, 1844, p. 22.

  291 Marie Trevelyan, _Folk-lore and Folk-stories of Wales_ (London,
      1909), p. 88.

  M73 The two main incidents of Balder’s myth, namely the pulling of the
      mistletoe and the lighting of the bonfire, are reproduced in the
      great Midsummer celebration of Scandinavia.

  292 See above, p. 86.

  293 G. Wahlenberg, _Flora Suecica_ (Upsala, 1824-1826), ii. No. 1143
      _Viscum album_, pp. 649 _sq._: “_Hab. in sylvarum densiorum et
      humidiorum arboribus frondosis, ut Pyris, Quercu, Fago etc. per
      Sueciam temperatiorem passim_.”

  294 Above, vol. i. pp. 171 _sq._

  295 L. Lloyd, _Peasant Life in Sweden_ (London, 1870), p. 259.

  296 J. Grimm, _Deutsche Mythologie_,4 iii. 78, who adds, “_Mahnen die
      Johannisfeuer an Baldrs Leichenbrand?_” This pregnant hint perhaps
      contains in germ the solution of the whole myth.

  M74 Hence the myth of Balder was probably the explanation given of a
      similar rite.

  297 Above, vol. i. p. 148.

  298 Above, vol. i. p. 186.

  299 Above, p. 26.

  M75 If a human representative of a tree-spirit was burned in the
      bonfires, what kind of tree did he represent? The oak the principal
      sacred tree of the Aryans.

  300 As to the worship of the oak in Europe, see _The Magic Art and the
      Evolution of Kings_, ii. 349 _sqq._ Compare P. Wagler, _Die Eiche in
      alter und neuer Zeit_, in two parts (Wurzen, N.D., and Berlin,
      1891).

  301 Strabo, xii. 5.1, p. 567. The name is a compound of _dryu_, “oak,”
      and _nemed_, “temple” (H. F. Tozer, _Selections from Strabo_,
      Oxford, 1893, p. 284). We know from Jerome (_Commentar. in Epist. ad
      Galat._ book ii. praef.) that the Galatians retained their native
      Celtic speech as late as the fourth century of our era.

_  302 The Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings_, ii. 365.

  303 J. Grimm, _Deutsche Mythologie_,4 i. 55 _sq._, 58 _sq._, ii. 542,
      iii. 187 _sq._; P. Wagler, _Die Eiche in alter und neuer Zeit_
      (Berlin, 1891), pp. 40 _sqq._; _The Magic Art and the Evolution of
      Kings_, ii. 363 _sqq._, 371.

  304 L. Preller, _Römische Mythologie_3 (Berlin, 1881-1883), i. 108.

  305 Livy, i. 10. Compare C. Bötticher, _Der Baumkultus der Hellenen_
      (Berlin, 1856), pp. 133 _sq._

  306 C. Bötticher, _op. cit._ pp. 111 _sqq._; L. Preller, _Griechische
      Mythologie_,4 ed. C. Robert, i. (Berlin, 1894) pp. 122 _sqq._; P.
      Wagler, _Die Eiche in alter und neuer Zeit_ (Berlin, 1891), pp. 2
      _sqq._ It is noteworthy that at Olympia the only wood that might be
      used in sacrificing to Zeus was the white poplar (Pausanias, v. 14.
      2). But it is probable that herein Zeus, who was an intruder at
      Olympia, merely accepted an old local custom which, long before his
      arrival, had been observed in the worship of Pelops (Pausanias, v.
      13. 3).

  307 Without hazarding an opinion on the vexed question of the cradle of
      the Aryans, I may observe that in various parts of Europe the oak
      seems to have been formerly more common than it is now. See the
      evidence collected in _The Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings_,
      ii. 349 _sqq._

  M76 Hence the tree represented by the human victim who was burnt at the
      fire-festivals was probably the oak.

  308 However, some exceptions to the rule are recorded. See above, vol.
      i. pp. 169, 278 (oak and fir), 220 (plane and birch), 281, 283, 286
      (limewood), 282 (poplar and fir), 286 (cornel-tree), 291 (birch or
      other hard wood), 278, 280 (nine kinds of wood). According to
      Montanus, the need-fire, Easter, and Midsummer fires were kindled by
      the friction of oak and limewood. See Montanus, _Die deutschen
      Volksfeste, Volksbräuche und deutscher Volksglaube_ (Iserlohn,
      N.D.), p. 159. But elsewhere (pp. 33 _sq._, 127) the same writer
      says that the need-fire and Midsummer fires were produced by the
      friction of oak and fir-wood.

  309 Above, vol. i. p. 177.

  310 M. Prätorius, _Deliciae Prussicae_, herausgegeben von Dr. William
      Pierson (Berlin, 1871), pp. 19 _sq._ W. R. S. Ralston says (on what
      authority I do not know) that if the fire maintained in honour of
      the Lithuanian god Perkunas went out, it was rekindled by sparks
      struck from a stone which the image of the god held in his hand
      (_Songs of the Russian People_, London, 1872, p. 88).

  311 See above, vol. i. pp. 148, 271, 272, 274, 275, 276, 281, 289, 294.

  312 Above, vol. i. pp. 148, 155.

_  313 The Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings_, ii. 186.

_  314 The Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings_, ii. 366. However, sacred
      fires of other wood than oak are not unknown among Aryan peoples.
      Thus at Olympia white poplar was the wood burnt in sacrifices to
      Zeus (above, p. 90 _n._1); at Delphi the perpetual fire was fed with
      pinewood (Plutarch, _De EI apud Delphos_, 2), and it was over the
      glowing embers of pinewood that the Soranian Wolves walked at
      Soracte (above, p. 14).

  315 Montanus, _Diedeutschen Volksfeste, Volksbräuche und deutscher
      Volksglaube_ (Iserlohn, N.D.), pp. 127, 159. The log is called in
      German _Sckarholz_. The custom appears to have prevailed
      particularly in Westphalia, about Sieg and Lahn. Compare Montanus,
      _op. cit._ p. 12, as to the similar custom at Christmas. The use of
      the _Scharholz_ is reported to be found also in Niederlausitz and
      among the neighbouring Saxons. See Paul Wagler, _Die Eiche in alter
      und neuer Zeit_ (Berlin, 1891), pp. 86 _sq._

  316 Above, vol. i. pp. 248, 250, 251, 257, 258, 260, 263. Elsewhere the
      Yule log has been made of fir, beech, holly, yew, crab-tree, or
      olive. See above, vol. i. pp. 249, 257, 263.

_  317 The Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings_, ii. 140 _sq._

  318 A curious use of an oak-wood fire to detect a criminal is reported
      from Germany. If a man has been found murdered and his murderer is
      unknown, you are recommended to proceed as follows. You kindle a
      fire of dry oak-wood, you pour some of the blood from the wounds on
      the fire, and you change the poor man’s shoes, putting the right
      shoe on the left foot, and _vice versa_. As soon as that is done,
      the murderer is struck blind and mad, so that he fancies he is
      riding up to the throat in water; labouring under this delusion he
      returns to the corpse, when you can apprehend him and deliver him up
      to the arm of justice with the greatest ease. See Montanus, _op.
      cit._ pp. 159 _sq._

  M77 If the human victims burnt at the fire-festival represented the oak,
      the reason for pulling the mistletoe may have been a belief that the
      life of the oak was in the mistletoe, and that the tree could not
      perish either by fire or water so long as the mistletoe remained
      intact among its boughs.
  M78 Ancient Italian belief that mistletoe could not be destroyed by fire
      or water.

  319 Pliny, _Nat. Hist._ xiii. 119: “_Alexander Cornelius arborem leonem
      appellavit ex qua facta esset Argo, similem robori viscum ferenti,
      quae neque aqua neque igni possit corrumpi, sicuti nec viscum, nulli
      alii cognitam, quod equidem sciam._” Here the tree out of which the
      ship Argo was made is said to have been destructible neither by fire
      nor water; and as the tree is compared to a mistletoe-bearing oak,
      and the mistletoe itself is said to be indestructible by fire and
      water, it seems to follow that the same indestructibility may have
      been believed to attach to the oak which bore the mistletoe, so long
      at least as the mistletoe remained rooted on the boughs.

  M79 Conception of a being whose life is outside himself.
  M80 Belief that a man’s soul may be deposited for safety in a secure
      place outside his body, and that so long as it remains there intact
      he himself is invulnerable and immortal.

_  320 Taboo and the Perils of the Soul_, pp. 26 _sqq._

  M81 This belief is illustrated by folk-tales told by many peoples.

  321 A number of the following examples were collected by Mr. E. Clodd in
      his paper, “The Philosophy of Punchkin,” _Folk-lore Journal_, ii.
      (1884) pp. 288-303; and again in his _Myths and Dreams_ (London,
      1885), pp. 188-198. The subject of the external soul, both in
      folk-tales and in custom, has been well handled by G. A. Wilken in
      his two papers, “De betrekking tusschen menschen- dieren- en
      plantenleven naar het volksgeloof,” _De Indische Gids_, November
      1884, pp. 595-612, and “De Simsonsage,” _De Gids_, 1888, No. 5. In
      “De Simsonsage” Wilken has reproduced, to a great extent in the same
      words, most of the evidence cited by him in “De betrekking,” yet
      without referring to that paper. When I wrote this book in 1889-1890
      I was unacquainted with “De betrekking,” but used with advantage “De
      Simsonsage,” a copy of it having been kindly sent me by the author.
      I am the more anxious to express my obligations to “De Simsonsage,”
      because I have had little occasion to refer to it, most of the
      original authorities cited by the author being either in my own
      library or easily accessible to me in Cambridge. It would be a
      convenience to anthropologists if Wilken’s valuable papers,
      dispersed as they are in various Dutch periodicals which are seldom
      to be met with in England, were collected and published together.
      After the appearance of my first anthropological essay in 1885,
      Professor Wilken entered into correspondence with me, and
      thenceforward sent me copies of his papers as they appeared; but of
      his papers published before that date I have not a complete set.
      (Note to the Second Edition.) The wish expressed in the foregoing
      note has now been happily fulfilled. Wilken’s many scattered papers
      have been collected and published in a form which leaves nothing to
      be desired (_De verspreide Geschriften van Prof. Dr. G. A. Wilken_,
      verzameld door Mr. F. D. E. van Ossenbruggen, in four volumes, The
      Hague, 1912). The two papers “De betrekking” and “De Simsonsage” are
      reprinted in the third volume, pp. 289-309 and pp. 551-579. The
      subject of the external soul in relation to Balder has been fully
      illustrated and discussed by Professor F. Kauffmann in his _Balder,
      Mythus und Sage_ (Strasburg, 1902), pp. 136 _sqq._ Amongst the first
      to collect examples of the external soul in folk-tales was the
      learned Dr. Reinhold Köhler (in _Orient und Occident_, ii.,
      Göttingen, 1864, pp. 100-103; reprinted with additional references
      in the writer’s _Kleinere Schriften_, i., Weimar, 1898, pp.
      158-161). Many versions of the tale were also cited by W. R. S.
      Ralston (_Russian Folk-tales_, London, 1873, pp. 109 _sqq._). (Note
      to the Third Edition.)

  M82 Stories of an external soul common among Aryan peoples. The external
      soul in Hindoo stories. Punchkin and the parrot. The ogre whose soul
      was in a bird.

  322 Mary Frere, _Old Deccan Days_, Third Edition (London, 1881), pp.
      12-16.

  323 Maive Stokes, _Indian Fairy Tales_ (London, 1880), pp. 58-60. For
      similar Hindoo stories, see _id._, pp. 187 _sq._; Lai Behari Day,
      _Folk-tales of Bengal_ (London, 1883), pp. 121 _sq._; F. A. Steel
      and R. C. Temple, _Wide-awake Stories_ (Bombay and London, 1884),
      pp. 58-60.

  M83 The princess whose soul was in a golden necklace. The prince whose
      soul was in a fish.

  324 Mary Frere, _Old Deccan Days_, pp. 239 _sqq._

  325 Lal Behari Day, _Folk-tales of Bengal_, pp. 1 _sqq._ For similar
      stories of necklaces, see Mary Frere, _Old Deccan Days_, pp. 233
      _sq._; F. A. Steel and R. C. Temple, _Wide-awake Stories_, pp. 83
      _sqq._

  M84 Cashmeer stories of ogres whose lives were in cocks, a pigeon, a
      starling, a spinning-wheel, and a pillar. Cashmeer and Bengalee
      stories of ogres whose lives were in bees.

  326 J. H. Knowles, _Folk-tales of Kashmir_, Second Edition (London,
      1893), pp. 49 _sq._

  327 J. H. Knowles, _op. cit._ p. 134.

  328 J. H. Knowles, _op. cit._ pp. 382 _sqq._

  329 Lal Behari Day, _Folk-tales of Bengal_, pp. 85 _sq._; compare _id._,
      pp. 253 _sqq._; _Indian Antiquary_, i. (1872) p. 117. For an Indian
      story in which a giant’s life is in five black bees, see W. A.
      Clouston, _Popular Tales and Fictions_ (Edinburgh and London, 1887),
      i. 350.

_  330 Indian Antiquary_, i. (1872), p. 171.

  M85 The external soul in a Siamese or Cambodian story. Indian stories of
      a tree and a barley plant that were life-tokens.

  331 A. Bastian, _Die Voelker des oestlichen Asien_, iv. (Jena, 1868) pp.
      304 _sq._

  332 Lal Behari Day, _Folk-tales of Bengal_, p. 189.

  333 F. A. Steel and R. C. Temple, _Wide-awake Stories_ (Bombay and
      London, 1884), pp. 52, 64. In the Indian _Jataka_ there is a tale
      (book ii. No. 208) which relates how Buddha in the form of a monkey
      deceived a crocodile by pretending that monkeys kept their hearts in
      figs growing on a tree. See _The Jataka or Stories of the Buddha’s
      former Births_ translated from the Pali by various hands, vol. ii.
      translated by W. H. D. Rouse (Cambridge, 1895), pp. 111 _sq._

  334 G. W. Leitner, _The Languages and Races of Dardistan_, Third Edition
      (Lahore, 1878), p. 9.

  M86 The external soul in Greek stories. Meleager and the firebrand.
      Nisus and his purple or golden hair. Pterelaus and his golden hair.
      Modern Greek parallels. The external soul in doves.

  335 Apollodorus, _Bibliotheca_, i. 8; Diodorus Siculus, iv. 34;
      Pausanias, x. 31. 4; Aeschylus, _Choeph._ 604 _sqq._; Antoninus
      Liberalis, _Transform._ ii.; Dio Chrysostom, _Or._ lxvii. vol. ii.
      p. 231, ed. L. Dindorf (Leipsic, 1857); Hyginus, _Fab._ 171, 174;
      Ovid, _Metam._ viii. 445 _sqq._ In his play on this theme Euripides
      made the life of Meleager to depend on an olive-leaf which his
      mother had given birth to along with the babe. See J. Malalas,
      _Chronographia_, vi. pp. 165 _sq._ ed. L. Dindorf (Bonn, 1831); J.
      Tzetzes, _Scholia on Lycophron_, 492 _sq._ (vol. ii. pp. 646 _sq._,
      ed. Chr. G. Müller, Leipsic, 1811); G. Knaack, “Zur Meleagersage,”
      _Rheinisches Museum_, N. F. xlix. (1894) pp. 310-313.

  336 Apollodorus, _Bibliotheca_, iii. 15. 8; Aeschylus, _Choeph._ 612
      _sqq._; Pausanias, i. 19. 4; _Ciris_, 116 _sqq._; Ovid, _Metam._
      viii. 8 _sqq._ According to J. Tzetzes (_Schol. on Lycophron_, 650)
      not the life but the strength of Nisus was in his golden hair; when
      it was pulled out, he became weak and was slain by Minos. According
      to Hyginus (_Fab._ 198) Nisus was destined to reign only so long as
      he kept the purple lock on his head.

  337 Apollodorus, _Bibliotheca_, ii. 4. 5 and 7.

  338 J. G. von Hahn, _Griechische und albanesische Märchen_ (Leipsic,
      1864), i. 217; a similar story, _ibid._ ii. 282.

  339 B. Schmidt, _Griechische Märchen, Sagen und Volkslieder_ (Leipsic,
      1877), pp. 91 _sq._ The same writer found in the island of Zacynthus
      a belief that the whole strength of the ancient Greeks resided in
      three hairs on their breasts, and that it vanished whenever these
      hairs were cut; but if the hairs were allowed to grow again, their
      strength returned (B. Schmidt, _Das Volksleben der Neugriechen_,
      Leipsic, 1871, p. 206). The Biblical story of Samson and Delilah
      (Judges xvi.) implies a belief of the same sort, as G. A. Wilken
      abundantly shewed in his paper, “De Simsonsage,” _De Gids_, 1888,
      No. 5 (reprinted in his _Verspreide Geschriften_, The Hague, 1912,
      vol. iii. pp. 551-579).

  340 J. G. von Hahn, _op. cit._ ii. 215 _sq._

_  341 Ibid._ ii. 275 _sq._ Similar stories, _ibid._ ii. 204, 294 _sq._ In
      an Albanian story a monster’s strength is in three pigeons, which
      are in a hare, which is in the silver tusk of a wild boar. When the
      boar is killed, the monster feels ill; when the hare is cut open, he
      can hardly stand on his feet; when the three pigeons are killed, he
      expires. See Aug. Dozon, _Contes albanais_ (Paris, 1881), pp. 132
      _sq._

  342 J. G. von Hahn, _op. cit._ ii. 260 _sqq._

_  343 Ibid._ i. 187.

_  344 Ibid._ ii. 23 _sq._

  345 Émile Legrand, _Contes populaires grecs_ (Paris, 1881), pp. 191
      _sqq._

  M87 The external soul in Italian stories. Silvia’s son. The dragon twin.
      The soul in a gem.

  346 Plutarch, _Parallela_, 26. In both the Greek and Italian stories the
      subject of quarrel between nephew and uncles is the skin of a boar,
      which the nephew presented to his lady-love and which his uncles
      took from her.

  347 G. Basile, _Pentamerone_, übertragen von Felix Liebrecht (Breslau,
      1846), ii. 60 _sq._

  348 R. H. Busk, _Folk-lore of Rome_ (London, 1874), pp. 164 _sqq._

  M88 Italian story of a wicked fairy whose death was in an egg. A
      sorcerer Body-without-Soul whose death was in an egg.

  349 T. F. Crane, _Italian Popular Tales_ (London, 1885), pp. 31-34. The
      hero had acquired the power of turning himself into an eagle, a
      lion, and an ant from three creatures of these sorts whose quarrel
      about their shares in a dead ass he had composed. This incident
      occurs in other tales of the same type. See below, note 2 and pp.
      120 with note 2, 132, 133 with note 1.

  350 J. B. Andrews, _Contes Ligures_ (Paris, 1892), No. 46, pp. 213
      _sqq._ In a parallel Sicilian story the hero Beppino slays a
      sorcerer in the same manner after he had received from an eagle, a
      lion, and an ant the same gift of transformation in return for the
      same service. See G. Pitrè, _Fiabe, Novelle e Racconti popolari
      Siciliani_, ii. (Palermo, 1875) p. 215; and for another Sicilian
      parallel, Laura Gonzenbach, _Sicilianische Märchen_ (Leipsic, 1870),
      No. 6, pp. 34-38.

  M89 The external soul in Slavonic stories. Russian story of Koshchei the
      Deathless, whose death was in an egg.

  351 Anton Dietrich, _Russian Popular Tales_ (London, 1857), pp. 21-24.

  M90 Other versions of the story of Koshchei the Deathless. Death in the
      blue rose-tree.

  352 Jeremiah Curtin, _Myths and Folk-tales of the Russians, Western
      Slavs, and Magyars_ (London, 1891), pp. 119-122. Compare W. R. S.
      Ralston, _Russian Folk-tales_ (London, 1873), pp. 100-105.

  353 W. R. S. Ralston, _op. cit._ p. 109.

  354 W. R. S. Ralston, _Russian Folk-tales_, pp. 113 _sq._

_  355 Id._, p. 114.

  M91 The external soul in Bohemian and Servian stories. True Steel, whose
      strength was in a bird.

_  356 Id._, p. 110.

  357 Madam Csedomille Mijatovies, _Serbian Folk-lore_, edited by the Rev.
      W. Denton (London, 1874), pp. 167-172; F. S. Krauss, _Sagen und
      Märchen der Südslaven_ (Leipsic, 1883-1884), i. 164-169.

  M92 Servian story of the dragon of the water-mill whose strength was in
      a pigeon. The fight with the dragon.

  358 A. H. Wratislaw, _Sixty Folk-tales from exclusively Slavonic
      Sources_ (London, 1889), pp. 224-231.

  M93 The external soul in a Lithuanian story. The Soulless King whose
      soul was in a duck’s egg. The Soulless King. The water of life. The
      soul in the duck’s egg.

  359 A. Leskien und K. Brugmann, _Litauische Volkslieder und Märchen_
      (Strasburg, 1882), pp. 423-430; compare _id._, pp. 569-571.

  M94 The external soul in Teutonic stories. Transylvanian story of a
      witch whose life was in a light. German story of Soulless the
      cannibal, whose soul was in a box. The helpful animals.

  360 Josef Haltrich, _Deutsche Volksmärchen aus dem Sachsenlande in
      Siebenbürgen_4 (Vienna, 1885), No. 34 (No. 33 of the first edition),
      pp. 149 _sq._

  361 J. W. Wolf, _Deutsche Märchen und Sagen_ (Leipsic, 1845), No. 20,
      pp. 87-93.

  M95 German story of flowers that were life-tokens.

  362 L. Strackerjan, _Aberglaube und Sagen aus dem Herzogthum Oldenburg_
      (Oldenburg, 1867), ii. 306-308, § 622. In this story the flowers are
      rather life-tokens than external souls. The life-token has been
      carefully studied by Mr. E. S. Hartland in the second volume of his
      learned work _The Legend of Perseus_ (London, 1895).

  M96 The warlock in the wood, whose heart was in a bird.

  363 K. Müllenhoff, _Sagen, Märchen und Lieder der Herzogthümer Schleswig
      Holstein und Lauenburg_ (Kiel, 1845), pp. 404 _sqq._

  M97 The external soul in Norse stories. The giant whose heart was in a
      duck’s egg.

  364 P. Chr. Asbjörnsen og J. Moe, _Norske Folke-Eventyr_ (Christiania,
      N.D.), No. 36, pp. 174-180; G. W. Dasent, _Popular Tales from the
      Norse_ (Edinburgh, 1859), pp. 55 _sqq._

  365 P. Chr. Asbjörnsen, _Norske Folke-Eventyr_, Ny Samling (Christiania,
      1871), No. 70, pp. 35-40; G. W. Dasent, _Tales from the Fjeld_
      (London, 1874), pp. 223-230 (“Boots and the Beasts”). As in other
      tales of this type, it is said that the hero found three animals (a
      lion, a falcon, and an ant) quarrelling over a dead horse, and
      received from them the power of transforming himself into animals of
      these species as a reward for dividing the carcase fairly among
      them.

  M98 The external soul in Danish stories. The warlock whose heart was in
      a duck’s egg. The helpful animals.

  366 Svend Grundtvig, _Dänische Volksmärchen_, übersetzt von A.
      Strodtmann, Zweite Sammlung (Leipsic, 1879), pp. 194-218.

  M99 Danish story of the magician whose heart was in a fish. The
      magician’s heart.

  367 Svend Grundtvig, _Dänische Volksmärchen_, übersetzt von Willibald
      Leo (Leipsic, 1878), pp. 29-45.

 M100 The external soul in Icelandic stories. The king’s son in the cave
      of the giantesses whose life was in an egg. The swans’ song. The
      life-egg. An Icelandic parallel to Meleager.

  368 J. C. Poestion, _Isländische Märchen_ (Vienna, 1884), No. vii. pp.
      49-55. The same story is told with minor variations by Konrad Maurer
      in his _Isländische Volkssagen der Gegenwart_ (Leipsic, 1860), pp.
      277-280. In his version a giant and giantess, brother and sister,
      have their life in one stone, which they throw backwards and
      forwards to each other; when the stone is caught and broken by the
      heroine, the giant and giantess at once expire. The tale was told to
      Maurer when he was crossing an arm of the sea in a small boat; and
      the waves ran so high and broke into the boat so that he could not
      write the story down at the time but had to trust to his memory in
      recording it afterwards.

  369 W. Mannhardt, _Germanische Mythen_ (Berlin, 1858), p. 592; John
      Jamieson, _Etymological Dictionary of the Scottish Language_, New
      Edition, revised by J. Longmuir and D. Donaldson (Paisley,
      1879-1882), iv. 869, _s.v._ “Yule.”

 M101 The external soul in Celtic stories. The giant whose soul was in a
      duck’s egg.

  370 J. F. Campbell, _Popular Tales of the West Highlands_, New Edition
      (Paisley and London, 1890), i. 7-11.

  371 J. F. Campbell, _Popular Tales of the West Highlands_, New Edition,
      i. 80 _sqq._

 M102 The herdsman of Cruachan and the helpful animals. The simple giant
      and the wily woman.

  372 Compare _Taboo and the Perils of Soul_, p. 12.

  373 Rev. D. MacInnes, _Folk and Hero Tales_ (London, 1890), pp. 103-121.

 M103 Argyleshire story of the Bare-Stripping Hangman whose soul was in a
      duck’s egg.

  374 Rev. J. Macdougall, _Folk and Hero Tales_ (London, 1891), pp. 76
      _sqq._ (_Waifs and Strays of Celtic Tradition_, No. iii.).

 M104 Highland story of Headless Hugh.

  375 Rev. James Macdonald, _Religion and Myth_ (London, 1893), pp. 187
      _sq._ The writer tells us that in his youth a certain old Betty
      Miles used to terrify him with this tale. For the tradition of
      Headless Hugh, who seems to have been the only son of Hector, first
      chief of Lochbuy, in the fourteenth century, see J. G. Campbell,
      _Witchcraft and Second Sight in the Highlands and Islands of
      Scotland_ (Glasgow, 1902), pp. III _sqq._ India also has its stories
      of headless horsemen. See W. Crooke, _Popular Religion and Folk-lore
      of Northern India_ (London, 1896), i. 256 _sqq._

 M105 The Mackays the descendants of the seal.

  376 Rev. James Macdonald, _Religion and Myth_, pp. 191 _sq._, from
      information furnished by the Rev. A. Mackay. In North Uist there is
      a sept known as “the MacCodrums of the seals.” and a precisely
      similar legend is told to explain their descent from seals. See J.
      G. Campbell, _Superstitions of the Highlands and Islands of
      Scotland_ (Glasgow, 1900), p. 284.

 M106 The external soul in Irish and Breton stories. The giant and the
      egg. The helpful animals. Body-without-Soul. The helpful animals.
      The giant whose life was in a box-tree.

  377 Jeremiah Curtin, _Myths and Folk-tales of Ireland_ (London, N.D.),
      pp. 71 _sqq._

  378 P. Sébillot, _Contes populaires de la Haute-Bretagne_ (Paris, 1885),
      pp. 63 _sqq._

  379 F. M. Luzel, _Contes populaires de Basse-Bretagne_ (Paris, 1887), i.
      435-449. Compare _id._, _Veillées Bretonnes_ (Morlaix, 1879), pp.
      133 _sq._ For two other French stories of the same type, taken down
      in Lorraine, see E. Cosquin, _Contes populaires de Lorraine_ (Paris,
      N.D.), Nos. 15 and 50 (vol. i. pp. 166 _sqq._, vol. ii. pp. 128
      _sqq._). In both of them there figures a miraculous beast which can
      only be slain by breaking a certain egg against its head; but we are
      not told that the life of the beast was in the egg. In both of them
      also the hero receives from three animals, whose dispute about the
      carcase of a dead beast he has settled, the power of changing
      himself into animals of the same sort. See the remarks and
      comparisons of the learned editor, Monsieur E. Cosquin, _op. cit._
      i. 170 _sqq._

  380 F. M. Luzel, _Veillées Bretonnes_ pp. 127 _sqq._

 M107 The external soul in stories of non-Aryan peoples. The ancient
      Egyptian story of the Two Brothers. The heart in the flower of the
      Acacia.
 M108 Bata in the Valley of the Acacia. How Bata died and was brought to
      life again.

  381 (Sir) Gaston Maspero, _Contes populaires de l’Égypte ancienne_3
      (Paris, N.D.), pp. 1 _sqq._; W. M. Flinders Petrie, _Egyptian
      Tales_, Second Series (London, 1895), pp. 36 _sqq._; Alfred
      Wiedemann, _Altägyptische Sagen und Märchen_ (Leipsic, 1906), pp.
      58-77. Compare W. Mannhardt, “Das älteste Märchen,” _Zeitschrift für
      deutsche Mythologie und Sittenkunde_, iv. (1859) pp. 232-259. The
      manuscript of the story, which is now in the British Museum,
      belonged to an Egyptian prince, who was afterwards King Seti II. and
      reigned about the year 1300 B.C. It is beautifully written and in
      almost perfect condition.

 M109 The external soul in Arabian stories. The jinnee and the sparrow.
      The ogress and the bottle.

_  382 The Thousand and One Nights, commonly called, in England, The
      Arabian Nights’ Entertainments_, translated by E. W. Lane (London,
      1839-1841), iii. 339-345.

  383 G. Spitta-Bey, _Contes arabes modernes_ (Leyden and Paris, 1883),
      No. 2, pp. 12 _sqq._ The story in its main outlines is identical
      with the Cashmeer story of “The Ogress Queen” (J. H. Knowles,
      _Folk-tales of Kashmir_, pp. 42 _sqq._) and the Bengalee story of
      “The Boy whom Seven Mothers Suckled” (Lal Behari Day, _Folk-tales of
      Bengal_, pp. 117 _sqq._; _Indian Antiquary_, i. 170 _sqq._). In
      another Arabian story the life of a witch is bound up with a phial;
      when it is broken, she dies (W. A. Clouston, _A Group of Eastern
      Romances and Stories_, Privately printed, 1889, p. 30). A similar
      incident occurs in a Cashmeer story (J. H. Knowles, _op. cit._ p.
      73). In the Arabian story mentioned in the text, the hero, by a
      genuine touch of local colour, is made to drink the milk of an
      ogress’s breasts and hence is regarded by her as her son. The same
      incident occurs in Kabyle and Berber tales. See J. Rivière, _Contes
      populaires de la Kabylie du Djurdjura_ (Paris, 1882), p. 239; R.
      Basset, _Nouveaux Contes Berbères_ (Paris, 1897), p. 128, with the
      editor’s note, pp. 339 _sqq._ In a Mongolian story a king refuses to
      kill a lad because he has unwittingly partaken of a cake kneaded
      with the milk of the lad’s mother (B. Jülg, _Mongolische
      Märchen-Sammlung, die neun Märchen des Siddhi-Kür_, Innsbruck, 1868,
      p. 183). Compare W. Robertson Smith, _Kinship and Marriage in Early
      Arabia_, New Edition (London, 1903), p. 176; and for the same mode
      of creating kinship among other races, see A. d’Abbadie, _Douze ans
      dans la Haute Ethiopie_ (Paris, 1868), pp. 272 _sq._; Tausch,
      “Notices of the Circassians,” _Journal of the Royal Asiatic
      Society_, i. (1834) p. 104; J. Biddulph, _Tribes of the Hindoo
      Koosh_ (London, 1880), pp. 77, 83 (compare G. W. Leitner, _Languages
      and Races of Dardistan_, Lahore, 1878, p. 34); Denzil C. J.
      Ibbetson, _Settlement Report of the Panipat, Tahsil, and Karnal
      Parganah of the Karnal District_ (Allahabad, 1883), p. 101; J.
      Moura, _Le Royaume du Cambodge_ (Paris, 1883), i. 427; F. S. Krauss,
      _Sitte und Brauch der Südslaven_ (Vienna, 1885), p. 14; J. H. Weeks,
      _Among Congo Cannibals_ (London, 1913), p. 132. When the Masai of
      East Africa make peace with an enemy, each tribe brings a cow with a
      calf and a woman with a baby. The two cows are exchanged, and the
      enemy’s child is suckled at the breast of the Masai woman, and the
      Masai baby is suckled at the breast of the woman belonging to the
      enemy. See A. C. Hollis, _The Masai_ (Oxford, 1905), pp. 321 _sq._

 M110 The external soul in Basque, Kabyle, and Magyar stories.

  384 W. Webster, _Basque Legends_ (London, 1877), pp. 80 _sqq._; J.
      Vinson, _Le folk-lore du pays Basque_ (Paris, 1883), pp. 84 _sqq._
      As so often in tales of this type, the hero is said to have received
      his wonderful powers of metamorphosis from animals whom he found
      quarrelling about their shares in a dead beast.

  385 J. Rivière, _Contes populaires de la Kabylie du Djurdjura_ (Paris,
      1882), p. 191.

  386 W. H. Jones and L. L. Kropf, _The Folk-tales of the Magyar_ (London,
      1889), pp. 205 _sq._

  387 R. H. Busk, _The Folk-lore of Rome_ (London, 1874), p. 168.

 M111 The external soul in a Lapp story. The giant whose life was in a
      hen’s egg. The helpful animals.

  388 F. Liebrecht, “Lappländische Märchen,” _Germania_, N.R., iii. (1870)
      pp. 174 _sq._; F. C. Poestion, _Lappländische Märchen_ (Vienna,
      1886), No. 20, pp. 81 _sqq._

 M112 The external soul in Samoyed and Kalmuck stories.

  389 A. Castren, _Ethnologische Vorlesungen über die altaischen Völker_
      (St. Petersburg, 1857), pp. 173 _sqq._

  390 B. Jülg, _Kalmückische Märchen_ (Leipsic, 1866), No. 12, pp. 58
      _sqq._

 M113 The external soul in Tartar poems.

  391 Anton Schiefner, _Heldensagen der Minussinschen Tataren_ (St.
      Petersburg, 1859), pp. 172-176.

  392 A. Schiefner, _op. cit._ pp. 108-112.

  393 A. Schiefner, _op. cit._ pp. 360-364; A. Castren, _Vorlesungen über
      die finnische Mythologie_ (St. Petersburg, 1857), pp. 186 _sq._

  394 A. Schiefner, _op. cit._ pp. 189-193. In another Tartar poem
      (Schiefner, _op. cit._ pp. 390 _sq._) a boy’s soul is shut up by his
      enemies in a box. While the soul is in the box, the boy is dead;
      when it is taken out, he is restored to life. In the same poem (p.
      384) the soul of a horse is kept shut up in a box, because it is
      feared the owner of the horse will become the greatest hero on
      earth. But these cases are, to some extent, the converse of those in
      the text.

 M114 The external soul in a Mongolian story and Tartar poems.

  395 Schott, “Ueber die Sage von Geser-Chan,” _Abhandlungen der
      königlichen Akademie der Wissenschaften zu Berlin_, 1851, p. 269.

  396 W. Radloff, _Proben der Volkslitteratur der türkischen Stämme
      Süd-Sibiriens_, ii. (St. Petersburg, 1868), pp. 237 _sq._

  397 W. Radloff, _op. cit._ ii. 531 _sqq._

  398 W. Radloff, _op. cit._ iv. (St. Petersburg, 1872) pp. 88 _sq._

  399 W. Radloff, _op. cit._ i. (St. Petersburg, 1866) pp. 345 _sq._

 M115 The external soul in a Chinese story.

  400 J. J. M. de Groot, _The Religious System of China_, iv. (Leyden,
      1901) pp. 105 _sq._

 M116 The external soul in a story told by the Khasis of Assam.

  401 Major P. R. T. Gurdon, _The Khasis_ (London, 1907), pp. 181-184.

 M117 The external soul in a Malay poem. Bidasari and the golden fish.

  402 G. A. Wilken, “De betrekking tusschen menschen- dieren- en
      plantenleven naar het volksgeloof,” _De Indische Gids_, November
      1884, pp. 600-602; _id._, “De Simsonsage,” _De Gids_, 1888, No. 5,
      pp. 6 _sqq._ (of the separate reprint); _id._, _Verspreide
      Geschriften_ (The Hague, 1912), iii. 296-298, 559-561. Compare L. de
      Backer, _L’Archipel Indien_ (Paris, 1874), pp. 144-149. The Malay
      text of the long poem was published with a Dutch translation and
      notes by W. R. van Hoëvell (“Sjaïr Bidasari, een oorspronkelijk
      Maleisch Gedicht, uitgegeven en van eene Vertaling en Aanteekeningen
      voorzien,” _Verhandelingen van het Bataviaasch Genootschap van
      Kunsten en Wetenschappen_, xix. (Batavia, 1843) pp. 1-421).

 M118 The external soul in a story told in Nias.

  403 J. T. Nieuwenhuisen en H. C. B. von Rosenberg, “Verslag omtrent het
      eiland Nias,” _Verhandelingen van het Bataviaasch Genootschap van
      Kunsten en Wetenschappen_, xxx. (Batavia, 1863) p. 111; H.
      Sundermann, “Die Insel Nias,” _Allgemeine Missions-Zeitschrift_, xi.
      (1884) p. 453; _id._, _Die Insel Nias und die Mission daselbst_
      (Barmen, 1905), p. 71. Compare E. Modigliani, _Un Viaggio a Nías_
      (Milan, 1890), p. 339.

 M119 The external soul in a Hausa story. The king whose life was in a
      box. The helpful animals.

  404 Major A. J. N. Tremearne, _Hausa Superstitions and Customs_ (London,
      1913), pp. 131 _sq._ The original Hausa text of the story appears to
      be printed in Major Edgar’s _Litafi na Tatsuniyoyi na Hausa_ (ii.
      27), to which Major Tremearne refers (p. 9).

 M120 The external soul in a South Nigerian story. The external soul in a
      story told by the Ba-Ronga of South Africa. The Clan of the Cat.

  405 Major A. G. Leonard, _The Lower Niger and its Tribes_ (London,
      1906), pp. 319-321.

  406 Henri A. Junod, _Les Chants et les Contes des Ba-ronga_ (Lausanne,
      N.D.), pp. 253-256; _id._, _The Life of a South African Tribe_
      (Neuchatel, 1912-1913), i. 338 _sq._

 M121 The external soul in stories told by the North American Indians. The
      ogress whose life was in a hemlock branch.

  407 J. Curtin, _Myths and Folk-tales of the Russians, Western Slavs, and
      Magyars_ (London, 1891), p. 551. The writer does not mention his
      authorities.

  408 G. B. Grinnell, _Pawnee Hero Stories and Folk-tales_ (New York,
      1889), pp. 121 _sqq._, “The Bear Man.”

  409 Washington Matthews, “The Mountain Chant: a Navajo Ceremony,” _Fifth
      Annual Report of the Bureau of Ethnology_ (Washington, 1887), pp.
      406 _sq._

  410 Franz Boas, “The Social Organization and the Secret Societies of the
      Kwakiutl Indians,” _Report of the United States National Museum for
      1895_ (Washington, 1897), p. 373.

 M122 The external soul in folk-custom.
 M123 The soul removed from the body as a precaution in seasons of danger.
      Souls of people collected in a bag at a house-warming. Soul of a
      woman put in a chopping-knife at childbirth.

_  411 Taboo and the Perils of the Soul_, pp. 63 _sq._

  412 B. F. Matthes, _Bijdragen tot de Ethnologie van Zuid-Celebes_ (The
      Hague, 1875), p. 54.

  413 A. C. Kruijt, “Een en ander aangaande het geestelijk en
      maatschappelijk leven van den Poso-Alfoer,” _Mededeelingen van wege
      het Nederlandsche Zendelinggenootschap_, xxxix. (1895) pp. 23 _sq._;
      _id._, “Van Paloppo naar Posso,” _Mededeelingen van wege het
      Nederlandsche Zendelinggenootschap_, xlii. (1898) p. 72. As to the
      _lamoa_ in general, see A. C. Kruijt, _op. cit._ xl. (1896) pp. 10
      _sq._

  414 A. C. Kruijt, “Het koppensnellen der Toradja’s van Midden-Celebes,
      en zijne beteekenis,” _Verslagen en Mededeelingen der koninklijke
      Akademie der Wetenschappen_, Afdeeling Letterkunde, iv. Reeks, iii.
      (Amsterdam, 1899) pp. 201 _sq._; _id._, “Het ijzer in
      Midden-Celebes,” _Bijdragen tot de Taal- Land- en Volkenkunde van
      Nederlandsch- Indië_, liii. (1901) pp. 156 _sq._ Both the
      interpretations in the text appear to be inferences drawn by Mr.
      Kruijt from the statement of the natives, that, if they did not hang
      up these wooden models in the smithy, “the iron would flow away and
      be unworkable” (“_zou het ijzer vervloeien en onbewerkbaar
      worden_”).

 M124 Soul of a child put for safety in an empty coco-nut or a bag. Souls
      of people in ornaments, horns, a column, and so forth. The souls of
      Egyptian kings in portrait statues. A man’s life bound up with the
      fire in his lodge.

  415 A. H. B. Agerbeek, “Enkele gebruiken van de Dajaksche bevolking der
      Pinoehlanden,” _Tijdschrift voor Indische Taal- Land- en
      Volkenkunde_, li. (1909) pp. 447 _sq._

  416 J. A. Jacobsen, _Reisen in die Inselwelt des Banda-Meeres_ (Berlin,
      1896), p. 199.

  417 In a long list of female ornaments the prophet Isaiah mentions (iii.
      20) “houses of the soul” (בת הנפש) or (שפנה תב), which modern
      scholars suppose to have been perfume boxes, as the Revised English
      Version translates the phrase. The name, literally translated
      “houses of the soul,” suggests that these trinkets were amulets of
      the kind mentioned in the text. See my article, “Folk-lore in the
      Old Testament,” _Anthropological Essays presented to E. B. Tylor_
      (Oxford, 1907), pp. 148 _sqq._ In ancient Egyptian tombs there are
      often found plaques or palettes of schist bearing traces of paint;
      some of them are decorated with engravings of animals or historical
      scenes, others are modelled in the shape of animals of various
      sorts, such as antelopes, hippopotamuses, birds, tortoises, and
      fish. As a rule only one such plaque is found in a tomb, and it lies
      near the hands of the mummy. It has been conjectured by M. Jean
      Capart that these plaques are amulets or soul-boxes, in which the
      external souls of the dead were supposed to be preserved. See Jean
      Capart, _Les Palettes en schiste de L’Égypte primitive_ (Brussels,
      1908), pp. 5 _sqq._, 19 _sqq._ (separate reprint from the _Revue des
      Questions Scientifiques_, avril, 1908). For a full description of
      these plaques or palettes, see Jean Capart, _Les Débuts de l’Art en
      Égypte_ (Brussels, 1904), pp. 76 _sqq._, 221 _sqq._

  418 Miss Alice Werner, in a letter to the author, dated 25th September
      1899. Miss Werner knew the old woman. Compare _Contemporary Review_,
      lxx. (July-December 1896), p. 389, where Miss Werner describes the
      ornament as a rounded peg, tapering to a point, with a neck or notch
      at the top.

  419 Rev. James Macdonald, _Religion and Myth_ (London, 1893), p. 190.
      Compare Dudley Kidd, _The Essential Kafir_ (London, 1904), p. 83:
      “The natives occasionally fix ox-horns in their roofs and say that
      the spirit of the chief lives in these horns and protects the hut;
      these horns also protect the hut from lightning, though not in
      virtue of their spiritual connections. (They are also used simply as
      ornaments.)” No doubt amulets often degenerate into ornaments.

  420 R. Thurnwald, “Im Bismarckarchipel und auf den Salomo-inseln,”
      _Zeitschrift für Ethnologie_, xlii. (1910) p. 136. As to the
      Ingniet, Ingiet, or Iniet Society see P. A. Kleintitschen, _Die
      Küstenbewohner der Gazellehalbinsel_ (Hiltrup bei Münster, N.D.),
      pp. 354 _sqq._; R. Parkinson, _Dreissig Jahre in der Südsee_
      (Stuttgart, 1907), pp. 598 _sqq._

  421 G. Cedrenus, _Historiarum Compendium_, p. 625B, vol. ii. p. 308, ed.
      Im. Bekker (Bonn, 1838-1839).

  422 Alexandre Moret, _Du caractère religieux de la Royauté Pharaonique_
      (Paris, 1902), pp. 224 _sqq._ As to the Egyptian doctrine of the
      spiritual double or soul (_ka_), see A. Wiedemann, _The Ancient
      Egyptian Doctrine of the Immortality of the Soul_ (London, 1895),
      pp. 10 _sqq._; A. Erman, _Die ägyptische Religion_ (Berlin, 1905),
      p. 88; A. Moret, _Mystères Égyptiens_ (Paris, 1913), pp. 199 _sqq._

  423 F. Mason, “Physical Character of the Karens,” _Journal of the
      Asiatic Society of Bengal_, 1866, Part ii. No. 1, p. 9.

_  424 A Narrative of the Captivity and Adventures of John Tanner, during
      Thirty Years’ Residence among the Indians_, prepared for the press
      by Edwin James, M.D. (London, 1830), pp. 155 _sq._ The passage has
      been already quoted by Sir John Lubbock (Lord Avebury) in his
      _Origin of Civilisation_4 (London, 1882), p. 241.

 M125 Strength of people supposed to reside in their hair.

  425 François Valentijn, _Oud en Nieuw Oost-Indiën_ (Dordrecht and
      Amsterdam, 1724-1726), ii. 143 _sq._; G. A. Wilken, “De Simsonsage,”
      _De Gids_, 1888, No. 5, pp. 15 _sq._ (of the separate reprint);
      _id._, _Verspreide Geschriften_ (The Hague, 1912), iii. 569 _sq._

  426 J. G. F. Riedel, _De sluik- en kroesharige rassen tusschen Selebes
      en Papua_ (The Hague, 1886), p. 137.

 M126 Witches and wizards shaved to deprive them of their power.

  427 J. G. Dalyell, _The darker Superstitions of Scotland_ (Edinburgh,
      1834), pp. 637-639; C. de Mensignac, _Recherches ethnographiques sur
      la Salive et le Crachat_ (Bordeaux, 1892), p. 49 note.

  428 W. Crooke, _Popular Religion and Folk-lore of Northern India_
      (Westminster, 1896), ii. 281.

  429 W. Crooke, _op. cit._ ii. 281 _sq._

  430 B. de Sahagun, _Histoire des choses de la Nouvelle Espagne_,
      traduite par D. Journdanet et R. Siméon (Paris, 1880), p. 274.

 M127 Life of a person supposed to be bound up with that of a tree or
      plant. Birth-trees in Africa.

  431 Above, pp. 102, 110, 117 _sq._, 135, 136.

  432 Walter E. Roth, _North Queensland Ethnography, Bulletin, No. 5,
      Superstition, Magic, and Medicine_ (Brisbane, 1903), p. 27.

  433 Rev. J. Roscoe, _The Baganda_ (London, 1911), p. 202.

  434 G. Duloup, “Huit jours chez les M’Bengas,” _Revue d’Ethnographie_,
      ii. (1883), p. 223; compare P. Barret, _L’Afrique Occidentale_
      (Paris, 1888), ii. 173.

  435 Fr. Kunstmann, “Valentin Ferdinand’s Beschreibung der Serra Leoa,”
      _Abhandlungen der histor. Classe der könig. Bayer. Akad. der
      Wissenschaften_, ix. (1866) pp. 131 _sq._

  436 Bruno Gutmann, “Feldbausitten und Wachstumsbräuche der Wadschagga,”
      _Zeitschrift für Ethnologie_, xlv. (1913), p. 496.

  437 C. Velten, _Sitten und Gebräuche der Suaheli_ (Göttingen, 1903), pp.
      8 _sq._ In Java it is customary to plant a tree, for example, a
      coco-nut palm, at the birth of a child, and when he grows up he
      reckons his age by the age of the tree. See _Annales de la
      Propagation de la Foi_, iii. (Lyons and Paris, 1830) pp. 400 _sq._

  438 A. Bastian, _Die deutsche Expedition an der Loango-Küste_ (Jena,
      1874-1875), i. 165.

  439 Rev. J. Macdonald, _Religion and Myth_ (London, 1893), p. 178.

  440 H. Trilles, _Le Totémisme chez les Fân_ (Münster i. W., 1912), p.
      570.

  441 Rev. John H. Weeks, _Among Congo Cannibals_ (London, 1913), p. 295.

  442 Rev. J. Roscoe, _The Baganda_ (London, 1911), pp. 52, 54 _sq._
      Compare _The Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings_, i. 295 _sq._;
      and for other examples of burying the afterbirth or navel-string at
      the foot of a tree or planting a young tree over these remains, see
      _id._, pp. 182 _sqq._ In Kiziba, a district to the west of Lake
      Victoria Nyanza, the afterbirth is similarly regarded as a sort of
      human being. Hence when twins are born the people speak of four
      children instead of two, reckoning the two afterbirths as two
      children. See H. Rehse, _Kiziba, Land und Leute_ (Stuttgart, 1910),
      p. 117. The conception of the afterbirth and navel-string as
      spiritual doubles of the child with whom they are born is held very
      firmly by the Kooboos, a primitive tribe of Sumatra. We are told
      that among these people “a great vital power is ascribed to the
      navel-string and afterbirth; because they are looked upon as brother
      or sister of the infant, and though their bodies have not come to
      perfection, yet their soul and spirit are just as normal as those of
      the child and indeed have even reached a much higher stage of
      development. The navel-string (_oeri_) and afterbirth (_tĕm-boeni_)
      visit the man who was born with them thrice a day and thrice by
      night till his death, or they hover near him (‘_zweven voorbij hem
      heen_’). They are the good spirits, a sort of guardian angels of the
      man who came into the world with them and who lives on earth; they
      are said to guard him from all evil. Hence it is that the Kooboo
      always thinks of his navel-string and afterbirth (_oeri-tĕmboeni_)
      before he goes to sleep or to work, or undertakes a journey, and so
      on. Merely to think of them is enough; there is no need to invoke
      them, or to ask them anything, or to entreat them. By not thinking
      of them a man deprives himself of their good care.” Immediately
      after the birth the navel-string and afterbirth are buried in the
      ground close by the spot where the birth took place; and a ceremony
      is performed over it, for were the ceremony omitted, the
      navel-string and afterbirth, “instead of being a good spirit for the
      newly born child, might become an evil spirit for him and visit him
      with all sorts of calamities out of spite for this neglect.” The
      nature of the ceremony performed over the spot is not described by
      our authority. The navel-string and afterbirth are often regarded by
      the Kooboos as one; their names are always mentioned together. See
      G. J. van Dongen, “De Koeboe in de Onderafdeeling Koeboe-streken der
      Residentie Palembang,” _Bijdragen tot de Taal- Land- en Volkenkunde
      van Nederlandsch-Indië_, lxiii. (1910) pp. 229 _sq._

  443 Franz Stuhlmann, _Mit Emin Pascha ins Herz von Afrika_ (Berlin,
      1894), p. 653.

 M128 Birth-trees among the Papuans, Maoris, Fijians, Dyaks, and others.

  444 A. Bastian, _Ein Besuch in San Salvador_ (Bremen, 1859), pp. 103
      _sq._; _id._, _Der Mensch in der Geschichte_ (Leipsic, 1860), iii.
      193.

  445 R. Taylor, _Te Ika a Maui, or New Zealand and its Inhabitants_2
      (London, 1870), p. 184; Dumont D’Urville, _Voyage autour du monde et
      à la recherche de La Pérouse sur la corvette Astrolabe_, ii. 444.

  446 W. T. L. Travers, “Notes of the traditions and manners and customs
      of the Mori-oris,” _Transactions and Proceedings of the New Zealand
      Institute_, ix. (1876) p. 22.

  447 The late Rev. Lorimer Fison, in a letter to me dated May 29th, 1901.
      Compare _The Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings_, i. 184.

  448 N. Annandale, “Customs of the Malayo-Siamese,” _Fasciculi
      Malayenses_, Anthropology, part ii. (a) (May, 1904), p. 5.

  449 B. F. Matthes, _Bijdragen tot de Ethnologie van Zuid-Celebes_ (The
      Hague, 1875), p. 59.

  450 R. van Eck, “Schetsen van het eiland Bali,” _Tijdschrift voor
      Nederlandsch Indië_, N.S., ix. (1880) pp. 417 _sq._

  451 G. A. Wilken, “De Simsonsage,” _De Gids_, 1888, No. 5, p. 26 (of the
      separate reprint); _id._, _Verspreide Geschriften_ (The Hague,
      1912), iii. 562.

  452 M. C. Schadee, “Het familieleven en familierecht der Dajaks van
      Landak en Tajan,” _Bijdragen tot de Taal- Land- en Volkenkunde van
      Nederlandsch-Indië_, lxiii. (1910) p. 416.

  453 F. Grabowsky, “Die Theogenie der Dajaken auf Borneo,”
      _Internationales Archiv für Ethnographie_, v. (1892) p. 133.

  454 J. Perham, “Manangism in Borneo,” _Journal of the Straits Branch of
      the Royal Asiatic Society_, No. 19 (Singapore, 1887), p. 97; _id._,
      in H. Ling Roth, _The Natives of Sarawak and British North Borneo_
      (London, 1896), i. 278.

 M129 Birth-trees in Europe. Marriage oaks. Trees with which the fate of
      families or individuals is thought to be bound up. The Edgewell oak.
      The old tree at Howth Castle. The oak of the Guelphs.

  455 Angelo de Gubernatis, _Mythologie des Plantes_ (Paris, 1878-1882),
      i. pp. xxviii. _sq._

  456 W. Mannhardt, _Baumkultus_, p. 50; H. Ploss, _Das Kind_2 (Leipsic,
      1884), i. 79.

  457 K. Bartsch, _Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche aus Mecklenburg_ (Vienna,
      1879-1880), ii. p. 43, § 63.

  458 F. S. Krauss, “Haarschurgodschaft bei den Südslaven,”
      _Internationales Archiv für Ethnographie_, vii. (1894) p. 193.

  459 Karl Haupt, _Sagenbuch der Lausitz_ (Leipsic, 1862-1863), ii. 129,
      No. 207.

  460 “Heilige Haine und Bäume der Finnen,” _Globus_, lix. (1891) p. 350.
      Compare K. Rhamm, “Der heidenische Gottesdienst des finnischen
      Stammes,” _Globus_, lxvii. (1891) p. 344.

  461 Thomas Moore, _Life of Lord Byron_, i. 101 (i. 148, in the collected
      edition of Byron’s works, London, 1832-1833).

  462 J. G. Lockhart, _Life of Sir Walter Scott_ (First Edition), vi. 283
      (viii. 317, Second Edition, Edinburgh, 1839).

  463 Sir Walter Scott’s _Journal_ (First Edition, Edinburgh, 1890), ii.
      282, with the editor’s note.

  464 Letter of Miss A. H. Singleton to me, dated Rathmagle House, Abbey
      Leix, Ireland, 24th February, 1904.

  465 P. Wagler, _Die Eiche in alter und neuer Zeit_, ii. (Berlin, 1891)
      pp. 85 _sq._

 M130 The Life-tree of the Manchu dynasty.

_  466 Die Woche_, Berlin, 31 August, 1901, p. 3, with an illustration
      shewing the garden and the tree.

 M131 The myrtle-trees of the patricians and plebeians at Rome. The oak of
      the Vespasian family.

  467 Pliny, _Natur. Hist._ xv. 120 _sq._

  468 Suetonius, _Divus Vespasianus_, 5.

 M132 Life of persons supposed to be bound up with that of the cleft trees
      through which in their youth they were passed as a cure for rupture.
      In England ruptured children are passed through cleft ash-trees.

_  469 The Gentleman’s Magazine_, 1804, p. 909; John Brand, _Popular
      Antiquities of Great Britain_ (London, 1882-1883), iii. 289.

  470 Gilbert White, _The Natural History of Selborne_, Part II. Letter 28
      (Edinburgh, 1829), pp. 239 _sq._; Francis Grose, _A Provincial
      Glossary_ (London, 1811), p. 290; J. Brand, _op. cit._ iii. 287-292;
      R. Hunt, _Popular Romances of the West of England_3 (London, 1881),
      pp. 415, 421; W. G. Black, _Folk-medicine_ (London, 1883), pp. 67
      _sq._; W. Wollaston Groome, “Suffolk Leechcraft,” _Folk-lore_, vi.
      (1895) pp. 123 _sq._; E. S. Hartland, in _Folk-lore_, vii. (1896)
      pp. 303-306; _County Folk-lore, Suffolk_, edited by Lady E. C.
      Gurdon (London, 1893) pp. 26-28; Beatrix A. Wherry, “Miscellaneous
      Notes from Monmouthshire,” _Folk-lore_, xvi. (1905) p. 65; Marie
      Trevelyan, _Folk-lore and Folk-stories of Wales_ (London, 1909), p.
      320. Sometimes the tree was an oak instead of an ash (M. Trevelyan,
      _l.c._). To ensure the success of the cure various additional
      precautions are sometimes recommended, as that the ash should be a
      maiden, that is a tree that has never been topped or cut; that the
      split should be made east and west; that the child should be passed
      into the tree by a maiden and taken out on the other side by a boy;
      that the child should always be passed through head foremost (but
      according to others feet foremost), and so forth. In Surrey we hear
      of a holly-tree being used instead of an ash (_Notes and Queries_,
      Sixth Series, xi. Jan.-Jun. 1885, p. 46).

 M133 The practice in Sussex.

  471 “Some West Sussex superstitions lingering in 1868, collected by
      Charlotte Latham, at Fittleworth,” _Folk-lore Record_, i. (1878) pp.
      40 _sq._

 M134 Sick children passed through cleft trees, especially oaks, as a cure
      in Germany, France, Denmark, Sweden, and Greece.

  472 For the custom in Germany and Austria, see J. Grimm, _Deutsche
      Mythologie_,4 ii. 975 _sq._; A. Wuttke, _Der deutsche
      Volksaberglaube_2 (Berlin, 1869), p. 317, § 503; A. Kuhn und W.
      Schwartz, _Nord-deutsche Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche_ (Leipsic,
      1848), pp. 443 _sq._; J. F. L. Woeste, _Volksüberlieferungen in der
      Grafschaft Mark_ (Iserlohn, 1848), p. 54; E. Meier, _Deutsche Sagen,
      Sitten und Gebräuche aus Schwaben_ (Stuttgart, 1852), p. 390, § 56;
      F. Panzer, _Beitrag zur deutschen Mythologie_ (Munich, 1848-1855),
      ii. 301; _Bavaria, Landes- und Volkskunde des Königreichs Bayern_,
      ii. (Munich, 1863) p. 255; J. A. E. Köhler, _Volksbrauch,
      Aberglauben, Sagen und andre alte Ueberlieferungen im Voigtlande_
      (Leipsic, 1867), pp. 415 _sq._; L. Strackerjan, _Aberglaube und
      Sagen aus dem Herzogthum Oldenburg_ (Oldenburg, 1867), i. 72 _sq._,
      § 88; K. Bartsch, _Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche aus Mecklenburg_
      (Vienna, 1879-1880), ii. 290 _sq._, § 1447; J. Haltrich, _Zur
      Volkskunde der Siebenbürger Sachsen_ (Vienna, 1885), p. 264; P.
      Wagler, _Die Eiche in alter und neuer Zeit_, i. (Wurzen, 1891) pp.
      21-23. As to the custom in France, see Marcellus, _De medicamentis_,
      xxxiii. 26 (where the tree is a cherry); J. B. Thiers, _Traité des
      Superstitions_ (Paris, 1679), pp. 333 _sq._; A. de Nore, _Coutumes,
      Mythes et Traditions des Provinces de France_ (Paris and Lyons,
      1846), p. 231; L. J. B. Bérenger-Féraud, in _Bullétins de la Société
      d’Anthropologie de Paris_, iv. série, i. (1890) pp. 895-902; _id._,
      _Superstitions et Survivances_ (Paris, 1896), i. 523 _sqq._ As to
      the custom in Denmark and Sweden, see J. Grimm, _Deutsche
      Mythologie_,4 ii. 976; H. F. Feilberg, “Zwieselbäume nebst
      verwandtem Aberglauben in Skandinavien,” _Zeitschrift des Vereins
      für Volkskunde_, vii. (1897) pp. 42 _sqq._ In Mecklenburg it is
      sometimes required that the tree should have been split by lightning
      (K. Bartsch, _l.c._). The whole subject of passing sick people
      through narrow apertures as a mode of cure has been well handled in
      an elegant little monograph (_Un Vieux Rite médical_, Paris, 1892)
      by Monsieur H. Gaidoz, who rightly rejects the theory that all such
      passages are symbols of a new birth. But I cannot agree with him in
      thinking that the essence of the rite consists in the transference
      of the disease from the person to the tree; rather, it seems to me,
      the primary idea is that of interposing an impassable barrier
      between a fugitive and his pursuing foe, though no doubt the enemy
      thus left behind is apparently supposed to adhere to the further
      side of the obstacle (whether tree, stone, or what not) through
      which he cannot pass. However, the sympathetic relation supposed to
      exist between the sufferer and the tree through which he has been
      passed certainly favours the view that he has left some portion of
      himself attached to the tree. But in this as in many similar cases,
      the ideas in the minds of the persons who practise the custom are
      probably vague, confused, and inconsistent; and we need not attempt
      to define them precisely. Compare also R. Andree, _Ethnographische
      Parallelen und Vergleiche_ (Stuttgart, 1878), pp. 31 _sq._; E. S.
      Hartland, _The Legend of Perseus_ (London, 1894-1896), ii. 146
      _sq._; L. J. B. Bérenger-Féraud, _Superstitions et Survivances_
      (Paris, 1896), i. 523-540.

  473 L. Strackerjan, _l.c._; K. Bartsch, _l.c._

  474 E. Meier, _l.c._; _Bavaria, Landes- und Volkskunde des Königreichs
      Bayern_, ii. 255; A. Wuttke, _l.c._

  475 H. F. Feilberg, “Zwieselbäume nebst verwandtem Aberglauben in
      Skandinavien,” _Zeitschrift des Vereins für Volkskunde_, vii. (1897)
      p. 44.

  476 J. Theodore Bent, _The Cyclades_ (London, 1885), pp. 457 _sq._

 M135 Sympathetic relation thought to exist between the child and the tree
      through which it has been passed. The disease is apparently thought
      to be left behind on the farther side of the cleft tree.

  477 H. Ploss, _Das Kind_2 (Leipsic, 1884), ii. 221.

  478 R. Baier, “Beiträge von der Insel Rügen,” _Zeitschrift für deutsche
      Mythologie und Sittenkunde_, ii. (1855) p. 141.

 M136 Creeping through cleft trees to get rid of spirits in Armenia and
      Nias. Among the Bella Coola Indians mourners creep through cleft
      trees to get rid of the ghost.

  479 Manuk Abeghian, _Der armenische Volksglaube_ (Leipsic, 1899), p. 58.

  480 Fr. Kramer, “Der Götzendienst der Niasser,” _Tijdschrift voor
      Indische Taal- Land- en Volkenkunde_, xxxiii. (1890) pp. 478-480; H.
      Sundermann, _Die Insel Nias und die Mission daselbst_ (Barmen,
      1905), pp. 81-83. According to the latter writer the intention of
      passing through the cleft stick is “to strip off from himself (_von
      zich abzustreifen_) the last spirit that may have followed him.” The
      notion that the sun causes death by drawing away the souls of the
      living is Indian. See _The Satapatha Brâhmana_, ii. 3. 3. 7-8,
      translated by Julius Eggeling, Part I. (Oxford, 1882) p. 343
      (_Sacred Books of the East_, vol. xii.): “Now yonder burning (sun)
      doubtless is no other than Death; and because he is Death, therefore
      the creatures that are on this side of him die. But those that are
      on the other side of him are the gods, and they are therefore
      immortal.... And the breath of whomsoever he (the sun) wishes he
      takes and rises, and that one dies.”

  481 Fr. Boas, in _Seventh Report on the North-Western Tribes of Canada_,
      p. 13 (separate reprint from the _Report of the British
      Association_, Cardiff meeting, 1891). The Shuswap Indians of the
      same region also fence their beds against ghosts with a hedge of
      thorn bushes. See _Taboo and the Perils of the Soul_, p. 142.

 M137 The Madangs of Borneo creep through a cleft stick after a funeral in
      order to rid themselves of the ghost.

  482 C. Hose, “In the heart of Borneo,” _The Geographical Journal_, xvi.
      (1900) pp. 45 _sq._ Compare C. Hose and W. McDougall, _The Pagan
      Tribes of Borneo_ (London, 1912), ii. 36 _sq._, where, after
      describing the ceremony of passing through the cloven stick, the
      writers add: “In this way the Kayans symbolically prevent any of the
      uncanny influences of the graveyard following the party back to the
      house; though they do not seem to be clear as to whether it is the
      ghosts of the dead, or the _Toh_ of the neighbourhood, or those
      which may have contributed to his death, against whom these
      precautions are taken.”

 M138 The cleft stick or tree through which a person passes is a barrier
      to part him from a dangerous foe; the closing of the cleft is like
      shutting the door in the face of a pursuer. But combined with this
      in the case of ruptured patients seems to be the idea that the
      rupture heals sympathetically as the cleft in the tree closes.
      Analogous Roman cure for dislocation.

  483 Cato, _De agri cultura_, 159 (pp. 106 sq. ed. H. Keil, Leipsic,
      1884): “_Luxum siquod est, hac cantione sanum fiet. Harundinem
      prende tibi viridem P. III. aut quinque longam, mediam diffinde, et
      duo homines teneant ad coxendices. Incipe cantare in alio s. f.
      moetas vaeta daries dardaries asiadarides una petes, usque dum
      coeant. Motas vaeta daries dardares astataries dissunapiter, usque
      dum coeant. Ferrum insuper jactato. Ubi coierint et altera alteram
      tetigerint, id manu prehende et dextera sinistra praecide, ad luxum
      aut ad fracturam alliga, sanum fiet._” The passage is obscure and
      perhaps corrupt. It is not clear whether “_usque dum coeant_” and
      “_ubi coierint_” refer to the drawing together of the bones or of
      the split portions of the reed, but apparently the reference is to
      the reed. The charm is referred to by Pliny, _Nat. Hist._, xvii.
      267: “_Quippe cum averti grandines carmine credant plerique, cujus
      verba inserere non equidem serio ausim, quamquam a Catone proditis
      contra luxata membra jungenda harundinum fissurae._” Compare J.
      Grimm, _Deutsche Mythologie_,4 i. 186, ii. 1031 _sq._

 M139 Other examples of creeping through narrow openings after a death.

  484 Pinabel, “Notes sur quelques peuplades dépendant du Tong-King,”
      _Bulletin de la Société de Géographie_, Septième Série, v. (Paris,
      1884) p. 430; A. Bourlet, “Funérailles chez les Thay,” _Anthropos_,
      viii. (1913) p. 45.

  485 S. Krascheninnikow, _Beschreibung des Landes Kamtschatka_ (Lemgo,
      1766), pp. 268, 282.

  486 N. Adriani en Alb. C. Kruijt, “Van Posso naar Parigi, Sigi en
      Lindoe,” _Mededeelingen van wege het Nederlandsche
      Zendelinggenootschap_, xlii. (1898) p. 502. The poles are of a
      certain plant or tree called _bomba_.

  487 Alb. C. Kruijt, “Eenige ethnografische aanteekeningen omtrent de
      Toboengkoe en de Tomori,” _Mededeelingen van wege het Nederlandsche
      Zendelinggenootschap_, xliv. (1900) p. 223.

 M140 The intention of the custom probably is to escape from the ghost of
      the dead.

  488 For examples of these ceremonies I may refer to my article, “On
      certain burial customs as illustrative of the primitive theory of
      the soul,” _Journal of the Anthropological Institute_, xv. (1886)
      pp. 64 _sqq._

 M141 Passing through an archway in order to escape from demons. Crawling
      under an arch of bramble as a cure for various maladies. Crawling
      under arches of various sorts as a cure or preventive of sickness.

  489 S. Krascheninnikow, _Beschreibung des Landes Kamtschatka_ (Lemgo,
      1766), pp. 277 _sq._

  490 W. H. Furness, _Folk-lore in Borneo, a Sketch_, p. 28 (Wallingford,
      Pennsylvania, 1899, privately printed). Compare _id._, _The
      Home-life of Borneo Head-hunters_ (Philadelphia, 1902), p. 28: “Here
      a halt for final purification was made. An arch of boughs about five
      feet high was erected on the beach, and beneath it a fire was
      kindled, and then Tama Bulan, holding a young chicken, which he
      waved and brushed over every portion of the arch, invoked all evil
      spirits which had been accompanying us, and forbade them to follow
      us further through the fire. The fowl was then killed, its blood
      smeared all over the archway and sprinkled in the fire; then, led by
      Tama Bulan, the whole party filed under the arch, and as they
      stepped over the fire each one spat in it vociferously and
      immediately took his place in the boats.”

  491 T. F. Thiselton Dyer, _English Folk-lore_ (London, 1884), pp. 171
      _sq._; W. G. Black, _Folk-medicine_ (London, 1883), p. 70; R. Hunt,
      _Popular Romances of the West of England_, Third Edition (London,
      1881), pp. 412, 415; Marie Trevelyan, _Folk-lore and Folk-stories of
      Wales_ (London, 1909), p. 320.

  492 A. de Nore, _Coutumes, Mythes et Traditions des Provinces de France_
      (Paris and Lyons, 1846), p. 152; H. Gaidoz, _Un Vieux Rite médical_
      (Paris, 1892), pp. 7 _sq._

  493 A. Strausz, _Die Bulgaren_ (Leipsic, 1898), p. 414.

  494 A. Strausz, _op. cit._ p. 404. As to the Bulgarian custom of
      creeping through a tunnel in a time of epidemic, see above, vol. i.
      pp. 282-284.

_  495 Last Journals of David Livingstone in Central Africa_ (London,
      1874), i. 60.

 M142 Custom in Uganda of causing a sick man to pass through a cleft stick
      or a narrow opening in the doorway.

  496 Rev. J. Roscoe, _The Baganda_ (London, 1911), p. 343. Compare _id._,
      “Notes on the Manners and Customs of the Baganda,” _Journal of the
      Anthropological Institute_, xxxi. (1901) p. 126; id., “Further Notes
      on the Manners and Customs of the Baganda,” _Journal of the
      Anthropological Institute_, xxxii. (1902) pp. 42 _sq._

 M143 Similar custom practised by the Kai of New Guinea and the Looboos of
      Sumatra for the purpose of giving the slip to spiritual pursuers.

  497 Ch. Keysser, “Aus dem Leben der Kaileute,” in R. Neuhauss’s _Deutsch
      Neu-Guinea_, iii. (Berlin, 1911) pp. 141 _sq._

  498 J. Kreemer, “De Loeboes in Mandailing,” _Bijdragen tot de Taal-
      Land- en Volkenkunde van Nederlandsch-Indie_, lxvi. (1912) p. 327.

 M144 Passing through cleft sticks in connexion with puberty and
      circumcision.

  499 Hermann Tönjes, _Ovamboland, Land, Leute, Mission_ (Berlin, 1911),
      pp. 139 _sq._ The writer was unable to ascertain the meaning of the
      rite; the natives would only say that it was their custom.

  500 A. Karasek, “Beiträge zur Kenntnis der Waschambo,”
      _Baessler-Archiv_, i. (Leipsic and Berlin, 1911) p. 192.

 M145 Crawling through a ring or hoop as a cure or preventive of disease.
      Passing sheep through a hoop of rowan. Milking a cow through a
      natural wooden ring or a “witch’s nest.” Passing sick persons or
      animals through a ring of yarn. Passing diseased children through a
      coil. Passing through a hemlock ring during an epidemic. Passing
      through a ring of red-hot iron to escape an evil spirit.

  501 H. F. Feilberg, “Zwieselbäume nebst verwandtem Aberglauben in
      Skandinavien,” _Zeitschrift des Vereins für Volkskunde_, vii. (1897)
      pp. 49 _sq._

  502 H. F. Feilberg, _op. cit._ p. 44.

  503 J. G. Dalyell, _The Darker Superstitions of Scotland_ (Edinburgh,
      1834), p. 121; Ch. Rogers, _Social Life in Scotland_ (Edinburgh,
      1884-1886), iii. 239.

  504 John Ramsay of Ochtertyre, _Scotland and Scotsmen in the Eighteenth
      Century_, edited by A. Allardyce, (Edinburgh and London, 1888), ii.
      454. Immediately after mentioning this custom the writer adds: “And
      in Breadalbane it is the custom for the dairymaid to drive the
      cattle to the sheals with a wand of that tree [the rowan] cut upon
      the day of removal, which is laid above the door until the cattle be
      going back again to the winter-town. This was reckoned a
      preservative against witchcraft.” As to the activity of witches and
      fairies on Hallowe’en and the first of May, see above, vol. i. pp.
      226 _sqq._, 295; _The Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings_, ii. 52
      _sqq._; J. G. Campbell, _Superstitions of the Highlands and Islands
      of Scotland_ (Glasgow, 1900), p. 18; _id._, _Witchcraft and Second
      Sight in the Highlands and Islands of Scotland_ (Glasgow, 1902), p.
      270. As to the power of the rowan-tree to counteract their spells,
      see W. Gregor, _Notes on the Folk-lore of the North-East of
      Scotland_ (London, 1881), p. 188; J. C. Atkinson, _Forty Years in a
      Moorland Parish_ (London, 1891), pp. 97 _sqq._; _The Scapegoat_, pp.
      266 _sq._

  505 L. Strackerjan, _Aberglaube und Sagen aus dem Herzogthum Oldenburg_
      (Oldenburg, 1867), i. p. 364, § 241.

  506 L. Strackerjan, _op. cit._ i. p. 364, § 240.

  507 Lieutenant-Colonel H. W. G. Cole, “The Lushais,” in _Census of
      India_, 1911, vol. iii. _Assam_, Part i. _Report_ (Shillong, 1912),
      p. 140.

  508 Franz Boas, in _Eleventh Report on the North-Western Tribes of
      Canada_, pp. 3 _sq._ (separate reprint from the _Report of the
      British Association for the Advancement of Science_, Liverpool
      meeting, 1896).

  509 Rev. G. E. White, Dean of Anatolia College, _Survivals of Primitive
      Religion among the People of Asia Minor_, p. 12 (paper read before
      the Victoria Institute or Philosophical Society of Great Britain, 6
      Adelphi Terrace, Strand, London).

 M146 Crawling through holed stones as a cure in Scotland and Cornwall.

  510 John Ramsay, _Scotland and Scotsmen in the Eighteenth Century_,
      edited by Alex. Allardyce (Edinburgh, 1888), ii. 451 _sq._

  511 J. G. Campbell, _Witchcraft and Second Sight in the Highlands and
      Islands of Scotland_ (Glasgow, 1902), p. 100.

  512 Mr. James S. Greig, in a letter to me dated Lindean, Perth Road,
      Dundee, 17th August, 1913.

  513 W. Borlase, _Antiquities, historical and monumental, of the County
      of Cornwall_ (London, 1769), pp. 177 _sq._

  514 Robert Hunt, _Popular Romances of the West of England_, Third
      Edition (London, 1881), pp. 176, 415.

 M147 Crawling through holed stones as a cure in France.

  515 Thomas-de-Saint-Mars, “Fête de Saint Estapin,” _Mémoires de la
      Société Royale des Antiquaires de France_, i. (1817) pp. 428-430.

  516 J. Deniker, “Dolmen et superstitions,” _Bulletins et Mémoires de la
      Société d’Anthropologie de Paris_, v. série, i. (1900) p. 111.
      Compare H. Gaidoz, _Un Vieux Rite médical_ (Paris, 1892), pp. 26
      _sq._; G. Fouju, “Légendes et Superstitions préhistoriques,” _Revue
      des Traditions Populaires_, xiv. (1899) pp. 477 _sq._

 M148 Crawling through holed stones as a cure in Bavaria, Austria, and
      Greece.

  517 F. Panzer, _Beitrag zur deutschen Mythologie_ (Munich, 1848-1855),
      ii. 48 § 61.

  518 F. Panzer, _op. cit._ ii. 431 _sq._

  519 Marie Andree-Eysn, _Volkskundliches aus dem
      bayrisch-österreichischen Alpengebiet_ (Brunswick, 1910), pp. 1, 9,
      with the illustrations on pp. 10, 11.

  520 F. Panzer, _Beitrag zur deutschen Mythologie_, ii. 431.

  521 J. Theodore Bent, _The Cyclades_ (London, 1885), p. 437.

 M149 Crawling through holed stones as a cure in Asia Minor. Passing
      through various narrow openings as a cure or preventive in India and
      Ireland.

  522 E. H. Carnoy et J. Nicolaides, _Traditions populaires de l’Asie
      Mineure_ (Paris, 1889), p. 338.

  523 Rev. George E. White (of Marsovan, Turkey), _Present Day Sacrifices
      in Asia Minor_, p. 3 (reprinted from _The Hartford Seminary Record_,
      February 1906).

_  524 Central Provinces, Ethnographic Survey_, vii. _Draft Articles on
      Forest Tribes_ (Allahabad, 1911), p. 46.

  525 So my friend Dr. G. W. Prothero informs me in a letter.

_  526 Census of India, 1911_, vol. xiv. _Punjab_, Part i. _Report_, by
      Pandit Harikishan Kaul (Lahore, 1912), p. 302.

 M150 Crawling through holes in the ground as a cure for disease. Passing
      through the yoke of a chariot as a cure for skin disease.

  527 H. Gaidoz, _Un Vieux Rite médical_ (Paris, 1892), p. 10.

  528 H. Gaidoz, _op. cit._ p. 21.

  529 H. Gaidoz, _Un Vieux Rite médical_ (Paris, 1892), p. 21. Compare J.
      Grimm, _Deutsche Mythologie_,4 ii. 975 _sq._

  530 H. F. Feilberg, “Zwieselbäume nebst verwandtem Aberglaube in
      Skandinavien,” _Zeitschrift des Vereins für Volkskunde_, vii. (1897)
      p. 45.

  531 H. Gaidoz, _Un Vieux Rite médical_ (Paris, 1892), pp. 22 _sq._,
      referring to Nyrop, in _Dania_, i. No. 1 (Copenhagen, 1890), pp. 5
      _sqq._

  532 Rev. John Campbell, _Travels in South Africa, Second Journey_
      (London, 1822), ii. 346. Among the same people “when a person is
      ill, they bring an ox to the place where he is laid. Two cuts are
      then made in one of its legs, extending down the whole length of it.
      The skin in the middle of the leg being raised up, the operator
      thrusts in his hand, to make way for that of the sick person, whose
      whole body is afterwards rubbed over with the blood of the animal.
      The ox after enduring this torment is killed, and those who are
      married and have children, as in the other case, are the only
      partakers of the feast.” (J. Campbell, _op. cit._ ii. 346 _sq._).
      Here the intention seems to be not so much to transfer the disease
      to the ox, as to transfuse the healthy life of the beast into the
      veins of the sick man. The same is perhaps true of the Welsh and
      French cure for whooping-cough, which consists in passing the little
      sufferer several times under an ass. See J. Brand, _Popular
      Antiquities of Great Britain_ (London, 1882-1883), iii. 288; L. J.
      B. Bérenger-Féraud, in _Bulletins de la Société d’Anthropologie de
      Paris_, Quatrième Série, i. (1890) p. 897; _id._, _Superstitions et
      Survivances_ (Paris, 1896), i. 526. The same cure for whooping-cough
      “is also practised in Ireland; only here the sufferer is passed
      round, that is, over and under, the body of an ass” (letter of Miss
      A. H. Singleton to me, dated Rathmagle House, Abbey-Leix, Ireland,
      24th February 1904). But perhaps the intention rather is to give the
      whooping-cough to the animal; for it might reasonably be thought
      that the feeble whoop of the sick child would neither seriously
      impair the lungs, nor perceptibly augment the stentorian bray, of
      the donkey.

  533 H. Oldenberg, _Die Religion des Veda_ (Berlin, 1894), p. 495.
      According to a fuller account, Indra drew her through three holes,
      that of a war-chariot, that of a cart, and that of a yoke. See W.
      Caland, _Altindisches Zauberritual_ (Amsterdam, 1900), p. 31 note 5.

 M151 Passing under a yoke or arch as a rite of initiation.

  534 Dr. E. Werner, “Im westlichen Finsterregebirge und an der Nordküste
      von Deutsch-Neuginea,” _Petermanns Mitteilungen_, lv. (1909) pp. 74
      _sq._ Among some tribes of South-Eastern Australia it was customary
      at the ceremonies of initiation to bend growing saplings into arches
      and compel the novices to pass under them; sometimes the youths had
      to crawl on the ground to get through. See A. W. Howitt, “On some
      Australian ceremonies of Initiation,” _Journal of the
      Anthropological Institute_, xiii. (1884) p. 445; _id._, _Native
      Tribes of South-East Australia_ (London, 1904), p. 536.

 M152 The ancient Roman custom of passing enemies under a yoke was
      probably in origin a ceremony of purification rather than of
      degradation.

  535 Livy iii. 28, ix. 6, x. 36; Dionysius Halicarnasensis, _Antiquit.
      Roman._ iii. 22. 7. The so-called yoke in this case consisted of two
      spears or two beams set upright in the ground, with a third spear or
      beam laid transversely across them. See Livy iii. 28; Dionysius
      Halicarnasensis, _l.c._

  536 Livy i. 26: “_Itaque, ut caedes manifesta aliquo tamen piaculo
      lueretur, imperatum patri, ut filium expiaret pecunia publica. Is
      quibusdam piacularibus sacrificiis factis, quae deinde genti
      Horatiae tradita sunt, transmisso per viam tigillo capite adoperto
      velut sub jugum misit juvenem. Id hodie quoque publice semper
      refectum manet; sororium tigillum vocant_;” Festus, _s.v._ “Sororium
      Tigillum,” pp. 297, 307, ed. C. O. Müller (Leipsic, 1839); Dionysius
      Halicarnasensis, _Antiquit. Roman._ iii. 22. The position of the
      beam is described exactly by the last of these writers, who had
      evidently seen it. According to Festus, the yoke under which
      Horatius passed was composed of three beams, two uprights, and a
      cross-piece. The similarity of the ceremony to that which was
      exacted from conquered foes is noted by Dionysius Halicarnasensis as
      well as by Livy. The tradition of the purification has been rightly
      explained by Dr. W. H. Roscher with reference to the custom of
      passing through cleft trees, holed stones, and so on. See W. H.
      Roscher, _Ausführliches Lexikon der griech. und röm. Mythologie_,
      ii. (Leipsic, 1890-1897) col. 21. Compare G. Wissowa, _Religion und
      Kultus der Römer_2 (Munich, 1912), p. 104.

 M153 Similarly the passage of a victorious Roman army under a triumphal
      arch may have been intended to purify the men from the stain of
      bloodshed by interposing a barrier between the slayers and the angry
      ghosts of the slain.

_  537 Taboo and the Perils of the Soul_, pp. 165 _sqq._

  538 Pliny, _Natur. Histor._ xv. 135: “_Quia suffimentum sit caedis
      hostium et purgatio_.”

  539 Cicero, _In Pisonem_, xxiii. 55; Josephus, _Bellum Judaicum_, vii.
      5. 4.

  540 It was not till after I had given this conjectural explanation of
      the “Sister’s Beam” and the triumphal arch at Rome that I read the
      article of Mr. W. Warde Fowler, “Passing under the Yoke” (_The
      Classical Review_, March 1913, pp. 48-51), in which he quite
      independently suggests practically the same explanation of both
      these Roman structures. I have left my exposition, except for one or
      two trivial verbal changes, exactly as it stood before I was aware
      that my friend had anticipated me in both conjectures. The closeness
      of the coincidence between our views is a welcome confirmation of
      their truth. As to the _Porta Triumphalis_, the exact position of
      which is uncertain, Mr. Warde Fowler thinks that it was not a gate
      in the walls, but an archway standing by itself in the Campus
      Martius outside the city walls. He points out that in the oldest
      existing triumphal arch, that of Augustus at Ariminum, the most
      striking part of the structure consists of two upright Corinthian
      pillars with an architrave laid horizontally across them; and he
      ingeniously conjectures that we have here a reminiscence of the two
      uprights and the cross-piece, which, if our theory is correct, was
      the original form both of the triumphal arch and of the yoke.

 M154 Belief in a sympathetic relation between a man and an animal such
      that the fate of the one depends on that of the other. The external
      souls of Yakut shamans in animals. Sympathetic relation between
      witches and hares.

  541 Professor V. M. Mikhailoviskij, “Shamanism in Siberia and European
      Russia,” _Journal of the Anthropological Institute_, xxiv. (1895)
      pp. 133, 134.

  542 Th. Parkinson, _Yorkshire Legends and Traditions_, Second Series
      (London, 1889), pp. 160 _sq._

  543 See above, vol. i. pp. 315 _sqq._

  544 B. F. Matthes, _Makassaarsch-Hollandsch Woordenboek_ (Amsterdam,
      1859), _s.v._ _soemāñgá_, p. 569; G. A. Wilken, “Het animisme bij de
      volken van den Indischen Archipel,” _De Indische Gids_, June 1884,
      p. 933; _id._, _Verspreide Geschriften_ (The Hague, 1912), iii. 12.

 M155 Melanesian conception of the _tamaniu_, a person’s external soul
      lodged in an animal or other object.

  545 R. H. Codrington, D.D., _The Melanesians_ (Oxford, 1891), pp. 250
      _sq._ Compare _id._, “Notes on the Customs of Mota, Banks Islands,”
      _Transactions and Proceedings of the Royal Society of Victoria_,
      xvi. (1880) p. 136.

 M156 Sympathetic relation between a man and his _tamaniu_ (external
      soul).

  546 W. H. R. Rivers, “Totemism in Polynesia and Melanesia,” _Journal of
      the Royal Anthropological Institute_, xxxix. (1909) p. 177. Dr.
      Rivers cites a recent case of a man who had a large lizard for his
      _tamaniu_. The animal lived in the roots of a big banyan-tree; when
      the man was ill, the lizard also seemed unwell; and when the man
      died, the tree fell, which was deemed a sign that the lizard also
      was dead.

 M157 Soul of a Melanesian doctor in an eagle-hawk and a rat.

  547 George Brown, D.D., _Melanesians and Polynesians_ (London, 1910), p.
      177. The case was known to Dr. Brown, who made notes of it. The part
      of Melanesia where it happened was probably the Duke of York Island
      or New Britain.

  548 “Totemismus auf den Marshall-Inseln (Südsee),” _Anthropos_, viii.
      (1913) p. 251.

 M158 The theory of an external soul lodged in an animal is very prevalent
      in West Africa. The soul of a chief in a hippopotamus or a black
      snake. Belief of the Fans that every wizard unites his life to that
      of a wild animal by a rite of blood brotherhood.

  549 Much of the following evidence has already been cited by me in
      _Totemism and Exogamy_, ii. 593 _sqq._

  550 Herbert Ward, _Five Years with the Congo Cannibals_ (London, 1890),
      p. 53.

_  551 Notes Analytiques sur les Collections ethnographiques du Musée du
      Congo_, i. (Brussels, 1902-1906) p. 150.

  552 Father H. Trilles, “Chez les Fangs,” _Les Missions Catholiques_,
      xxx. (1898) p. 322; _id._, _Le Totémisme chez les Fâṅ_ (Münster i.
      W. 1912), pp. 473 _sq._

  553 Father H. Trilles, _Le Totémisme chez les Fâṅ_ (Münster i. W. 1912),
      pp. 167 _sq._, 438 _sq._, 484-489. The description of the rite of
      blood-brotherhood contracted with the animal is quoted by Father
      Trilles (pp. 486 _sq._) from a work by Mgr. Buléon, _Sous le ciel
      d’Afrique, Récits d’un Missionnaire_, pp. 88 _sqq._ Father Trilles’s
      own observations and enquiries confirm the account given by Mgr.
      Buléon. But the story of an alliance contracted between a man or
      woman and a ferocious wild beast and cemented by the blood of the
      high contracting parties is no doubt a mere fable devised by wizards
      and witches in order to increase their reputation by imposing on the
      credulity of the simple.

 M159 Belief of the natives of the Cross River that they stand in a vital
      relation to certain wild animals, so that when the animal dies the
      man dies also.

  554 Alfred Mansfeld, _Urwald-Dokumente, vier Jahre unter den
      Crossflussnegern Kameruns_ (Berlin, 1908), pp. 220 _sq._

 M160 Similar belief of the Balong in the Cameroons.

  555 J. Keller (missionary), “Ueber das Land und Volk der Balong,”
      _Deutsches Kolonialblatt_, 1 Oktober 1895, p. 484; H. Seidel,
      “Ethnographisches aus Nordost Kamerun,” _Globus_, lxix. (1896) p.
      277.

 M161 Belief of the Ibos in external human souls which are lodged in
      animals.

  556 John Parkinson, “Note on the Asaba People (Ibos) of the Niger,”
      _Journal of the Anthropological Institute_, xxxvi. (1906) pp. 314
      _sq._

  557 Charles Partridge, _Cross River Natives_ (London, 1905), pp. 225
      _sq._

 M162 Belief of the negroes of Calabar that every person has an external
      or bush soul lodged in a wild beast.

  558 Miss Mary H. Kingsley, _Travels in West Africa_ (London, 1897), pp.
      459-461. The lamented authoress was kind enough to give me in
      conversation (1st June 1897) some details which do not appear in her
      book; among these are the statements, which I have embodied in the
      text, that the bush soul is never a domestic animal, and that when a
      man knows what kind of creature his bush soul is, he will not kill
      an animal of that species and will strongly object to any one else
      doing so. Miss Kingsley was not able to say whether persons who have
      the same sort of bush soul are allowed or forbidden to marry each
      other.

 M163 Further particulars as to the Calabar belief in bush souls.

  559 John Parkinson, “Notes on the Efik Belief in ‘Bush-soul,’ ” _Man_,
      vi. (1906) pp. 121 _sq._, No. 80. Mr. Henshaw is a member of the
      highest grade of the secret society of Egbo.

  560 Rev. Hugh Goldie, _Calabar and its Mission_, New Edition (Edinburgh
      and London, 1901), pp. 51 _sq._ Compare Major A. G. Leonard, _The
      Lower Niger and its Tribes_ (London, 1906), p. 217: “When Efik or
      waterside Ibo see a dead fish floating in the water of the kind
      called _Edidim_ by the former and _Elili_ by the latter—a variety of
      the electric species—they believe it to be a bad omen, generally
      signifying that some one belonging to the house will die, the man
      who first sees it becoming the victim according to Ibo belief. The
      only reason that is assigned for this lugubrious forecast is the
      fact that one of the souls of the departed is in the dead fish—that,
      in fact, the relationship or affinity existing between the soul
      essence that had animated the fish and that of one of the members of
      the household was so intimate that the death of the one was bound to
      effect the death of the other.”

 M164 Belief of the Ekoi of Southern Nigeria in external souls lodged in
      animals. Case of a chief whose external soul was in a buffalo.

  561 P. Amaury Talbot, _In the Shadow of the Bush_ (London, 1912), pp.
      80-87. The Ekoi name for a man who has the power of sending out his
      spirit into the form of some animal is _efumi_ (_id._, p. 71 note).
      A certain chief named Agbashan, a great elephant hunter, is believed
      to have the power of transforming himself into an elephant; and “a
      man of considerable intelligence, educated in England, the brother
      of a member of the Legislative Council for one of the West African
      Colonies, offered to take oath that he had seen Agbashan not only in
      his elephant form, but while actually undergoing the metamorphosis”
      (_id._, pp. 82 _sq._). In this case, therefore, the man seems to
      have felt no scruples at hunting the animals in one of which his own
      bush soul might be lodged.

 M165 Belief of other tribes of Nigeria in external souls lodged in
      animals.

  562 Letter of Mr. P. Amaury Talbot to me, dated Eket, North Calabar,
      Southern Nigeria, April 3d, 1913.

  563 Miss Mary H. Kingsley, _Travels in West Africa_ (London, 1897), pp.
      538 _sq._

  564 C. H. Robinson, _Hausaland_ (London, 1896), pp. 36 _sq._

  565 J. F. J. Fitzpatrick (Assistant Resident, Northern Nigeria), “Some
      Notes on the Kwolla District and its Tribes,” _Journal of the
      African Society_, No. 37, October, 1910, p. 30.

  566 Extract from a Report by Captain Foulkes to the British Colonial
      Office. My thanks are due to Mr. N. W. Thomas for sending me the
      extract and to the authorities of the Colonial Office for their
      permission to publish it.

_  567 The Daily Graphic_, Tuesday, October 7th, 1902, p. 3.

 M166 The conception of an external soul lodged in an animal appears to be
      absent in South Africa.

  568 Rev. W. C. Willoughby, “Notes on the Totemism of the Becwana,”
      _Journal of the Anthropological Institute_, xxxv. (1905) p. 300. The
      writer adds that he found a similar belief as to the sympathetic
      relation between a wounded crocodile and the man who wounded it very
      general among the Wanyamwezi, who, in 1882, were living under
      Mirambo about two hundred miles south of Lake Victoria Nyanza and a
      hundred miles east of Lake Tanganyika.

  569 F. Speckmann, _Die Hermannsburger Mission in Africa_ (Hermannsburg,
      1876) p. 167. Compare David Leslie, _Among the Zulus and Amatongas_,
      Second Edition (Edinburgh, 1875) pp. 47 _sq._; “The Kaffirs believe
      that after death their spirits turn into a snake, which they call
      _Ehlose_, and that every living man has two of these familiar
      spirits—a good and a bad. When everything they undertake goes wrong
      with them, such as hunting, cattle-breeding, etc., they say they
      know that it is their enemies who are annoying them, and that they
      are only to be appeased by sacrificing an animal; but when
      everything prospers, they ascribe it to their good _Ehlose_ being in
      the ascendant”; _id._, _op. cit._ p. 148: “When in battle two men
      are fighting, their snakes (_Mahloze_) are poetically said to be
      twisting and biting each other overhead. One ‘softens’ and goes
      down, and the man, whose attendant it is, goes down with it.
      Everything is ascribed to _Ehlose_. If he fails in anything, his
      _Ehlose_ is bad; if successful, it is good.... It is this thing
      which is the inducing cause of everything. In fact, nothing in Zulu
      is admitted to arise from natural causes; everything is ascribed to
      witchcraft or the _Ehlose_.”

      It is not all serpents that are _amadhlozi_ (plural of _idhlozi_),
      that is, are the transformed spirits of the dead. Serpents which are
      dead men may easily be distinguished from common snakes, for they
      frequent huts; they do not eat mice, and they are not afraid of
      people. If a man in his life had a scar, his serpent after his death
      will also have a scar; if he had only one eye, his serpent will have
      only one eye; if he was lame, his serpent will be lame too. That is
      how you can recognise So-and-So in his serpent form. Chiefs do not
      turn into the same kind of snakes as ordinary people. For common
      folk become harmless snakes with green and white bellies and very
      small heads; but kings become boa-constrictors or the large and
      deadly black _mamba_. See Rev. Henry Callaway, M.D., _The Religions
      System of the Amazulu_, Part ii. (Capetown, London, etc., 1869) pp.
      134 _sq._, 140, 196-202, 205, 208-211, 231. “The _Ehlose_ of Chaka
      and other dead kings is the Boa-constrictor, or the large and deadly
      black Mamba, whichever the doctors decide. That of dead Queens is
      the tree Iguana” (David Leslie, _op. cit._ p. 213). Compare Rev.
      Joseph Shooter, _The Kafirs of Natal and the Zulu Country_ (London,
      1857), pp. 161 _sq._; W. R. Gordon, “Words about Spirits,” (_South
      African_) _Folk-lore Journal_, ii. (Cape Town, 1880) pp. 101-103; W.
      Grant, “Magato and his Tribe,” _Journal of the Anthropological
      Institute_, xxxv. (1905) p. 270. A word which is sometimes
      confounded with _idhlozi_ is _itongo_ (plural _amatongo_); but the
      natives themselves when closely questioned distinguish between the
      two. See Dudley Kidd, _Savage Childhood, a Study of Kafir Children_
      (London, 1906), pp. 14 _sq._, 281-286. The notion that the spirits
      of the dead appear in the form of serpents is widespread in Africa.
      See _Adonis, Attis, Osiris_, Second Edition, pp. 73 _sqq._ Dr. F. B.
      Jevons has suggested that the Roman _genius_, the guardian-spirit
      which accompanied a man from birth to death (Censorinus, _De die
      natali_, 3) and was commonly represented in the form of a snake, may
      have been an external soul. See F. B. Jevons, _Plutarch’s Romane
      Questions_ (London, 1892) pp. xlvii. _sq._; _id._, _Introduction to
      the History of Religion_ (London, 1896), pp. 186 _sq._; L. Preller,
      _Römische Mythologie_3 (Berlin, 1881-1883), ii. 195 _sqq._; G.
      Wissowa, _Religion und Kultus der Römer_2 (Munich, 1912), pp. 176
      _sq._

 M167 The conception of an external soul lodged in an animal occurs among
      the Indians of Central America, some of whom call such a soul a
      _nagual_.

  570 H. H. Bancroft, _The Native Races of the Pacific Coast_ (London,
      1875-1876), i. 661. The words quoted by Bancroft (p. 662, note),
      “_Consérvase entre ellos la creencia de que su vida está unida à la
      de un animal, y que es forzoso que mueran ellos cuando éste muere_,”
      are not quite accurately represented by the statement of Bancroft in
      the text. Elsewhere (vol. ii. p. 277) the same writer calls the
      “second self” of the Zapotecs a “_nagual_, or tutelary genius,”
      adding that the fate of the child was supposed to be so intimately
      bound up with the fortune of the animal that the death of the one
      involved the death of the other. Compare Daniel G. Brinton,
      “Nagualism, a Study in American Folk-lore and History,” _Proceedings
      of the American Philosophical Society held at Philadelphia_, vol.
      xxxiii. No. 144 (Philadelphia, January, 1894), pp. 11-73. According
      to Professor E. Seler the word _nagual_ is akin to the Mexican
      _naualli_, “a witch or wizard,” which is derived from a word meaning
      “hidden” with reference to the power attributed to sorcerers of
      transforming themselves into animals. See E. Seler, “Altmexikanische
      Studien, II.” _Veröffentlichungen aus dem Königlichen Museum für
      Völkerkunde_, vi. heft 2/4 (Berlin, 1899), pp. 52-57.

  571 Otto Stoll, _Die Ethnologie der Indianerstämme von Guatemala_
      (Leyden, 1889), p. 57.

  572 Thomas Gage, _A New Survey of the West Indies_, Third Edition
      (London, 1677), p. 334. The same writer relates how a certain Indian
      named Gonzalez was reported to have the power of turning himself
      into a lion or rather a puma. Once when a Spaniard had shot a puma
      in the nose, Gonzalez was found with a bruised face and accused the
      Spaniard of having shot him. Another Indian chief named Gomez was
      said to have transformed himself into a puma, and in that shape to
      have fought a terrific battle with a rival chief named Lopez, who
      had changed himself into a jaguar. See Gage, _op. cit._ pp. 383-389.

  573 Antonio de Herrera, _General History of the Vast Continent and
      Islands of America_, translated by Capt. John Stevens (London,
      1725-1726), iv. 138 _sq._ The Spanish original of Herrera’s history,
      a work based on excellent authorities, was first published at Madrid
      in 1601-1615. The Indians of Santa Catalina Istlavacan still receive
      at birth the name of some animal, which is commonly regarded as
      their guardian spirit for the rest of their life. The name is
      bestowed by the heathen priest, who usually hears of a birth in the
      village sooner than his Catholic colleague. See K. Scherzer, “Die
      Indianer von Santa Catalina Istlávacana (Frauenfuss), ein Beitrag
      zur Culturgeschichte der Urbewohner Central-Amerikas,”
      _Sitzungsberichte der philos. histor. Classe der kais. Akademie der
      Wissenschaften_ (Vienna), xviii. (1856) p. 235.

  574 Otto Stoll, _Die Ethnologie der Indianerstämme von Guatemala_
      (Leyden, 1889), pp. 57 _sq._; _id._, _Suggestion und Hypnotism_2
      (Leipsic, 1904), p. 170.

 M168 In some tribes of South-Eastern Australia the lives of the two sexes
      are thought to be bound up with the lives of two different kinds of
      animals, as bats and owls.

  575 A. W. Howitt, “Further Notes on the Australian Class Systems,”
      _Journal of the Anthropological Institute_, xviii. (1889) pp. 57
      _sq._ Compare _id._, _Native Tribes of South-East Australia_
      (London, 1904), pp. 148, 150. It is very remarkable that among the
      Kurnai these fights had a special connexion with marriage. When
      young men were backward of taking wives, the women used to go out
      into the forest and kill an emu-wren, which was the men’s “brother”;
      then returning to the camp they shewed the dead bird to the men. The
      result was a fight between the young men and the young women, in
      which, however, lads who were not yet marriageable might not take
      part. Next day the marriageable young men went out and killed a
      superb warbler, which was the women’s “sister,” and this led to a
      worse fight than before. Some days afterwards, when the wounds and
      bruises were healed, one of the marriageable young men met one of
      the marriageable young women, and said, “Superb warbler!” She
      answered, “Emu-wren! What does the emu-wren eat?” To which the young
      man answered, “He eats so-and-so,” naming kangaroo, opossum, emu, or
      some other game. Then they laughed, and she ran off with him without
      telling any one. See L. Fison and A. W. Howitt, _Kamilaroi and
      Kurnai_ (Melbourne, Sydney, Adelaide, and Brisbane, 1880), pp. 201
      _sq._; A. W. Howitt, _Native Tribes of South-East Australia_, pp.
      149, 273 _sq._ Perhaps this killing of the sex-totem before marriage
      may be related to the pretence of killing young men and bringing
      them to life again at puberty. See below, pp. 225 _sqq._

  576 Gerard Krefft, “Manners and Customs of the Aborigines of the Lower
      Murray and Darling,” _Transactions of the Philosophical Society of
      New South Wales_, 1862-65, pp. 359 _sq._

  577 A. W. Howitt, “Further Notes on the Australian Class Systems,”
      _Journal of the Anthropological Institute_, xviii. (1889) pp. 56
      _sq._

  578 A. W. Howitt, _op. cit._ p. 57; _id._, _Native Tribes of South-East
      Australia_, p. 150.

  579 A. W. Howitt, “On the Migrations of the Kurnai Ancestors,” _Journal
      of the Anthropological Institute_, xv. (1886) p. 416.

  580 C. W. Schürmann, “The Aboriginal Tribes of Port Lincoln,” in _Native
      Tribes of South Australia_ (Adelaide, 1879), p. 241. Compare G. F.
      Angas, _Savage Life and Scenes in Australia and New Zealand_
      (London, 1847), i. 109.

  581 A. W. Howitt, “Further Notes on the Australian Class Systems,”
      _Journal of the Anthropological Institute_, xviii. (1889) p. 58.
      Compare _id._, _Native Tribes of South-East Australia_ (London,
      1904), pp. 148-151.

  582 James Dawson, _Australian Aborigines_ (Melbourne, Sydney, and
      Adelaide, 1881), p. 52.

 M169 Bats regarded as the brothers of men, and owls as the sisters of
      women.

  583 See _Totemism and Exogamy_, i. 47 _sq._ It is at least remarkable
      that both the creatures thus assigned to the two sexes should be
      nocturnal in their habits. Perhaps the choice of such creatures is
      connected with the belief that the soul is absent from the body in
      slumber. On this hypothesis bats and owls would be regarded by these
      savages as the wandering souls of sleepers. Such a belief would
      fully account for the reluctance of the natives to kill them. The
      Kiowa Indians of North America think that owls and other night birds
      are animated by the souls of the dead. See James Mooney, “Calendar
      History of the Kiowa Indians,” _Seventeenth Annual Report of the
      Bureau of American Ethnology_, Part i. (Washington, 1898) p. 237.

  584 A. L. P. Cameron, “Notes on some Tribes of New South Wales,”
      _Journal of the Anthropological Institute_, xiv. (1885) p. 350 note
      1; A. W. Howitt, “On the Migrations of the Kurnai Ancestors,”
      _Journal of the Anthropological Institute_, xv. (1886) p. 416;
      _id._, “Further Notes on the Australian Class Systems,” _Journal of
      the Anthropological Institute_, xviii. (1889) p. 57.

  585 L. Fison and A. W. Howitt, _Kamilaroi and Kurnai_, pp. 194, 201,
      _sq._, 215; _Journal of the Anthropological Institute_, xv. 416,
      xviii. 56 _sq._; A. W. Howitt, _Native Tribes of South-East
      Australia_ (London, 1904), pp. 148-151.

  586 The following suggestion as to the origin of totemism was made in
      the first edition of this book (published in 1890) and is here
      reprinted without any substantial change. In the meantime much
      additional evidence as to the nature and prevalence of totemism has
      come to light, and with the new evidence my opinions, or rather
      conjectures, as to the origin of the institution have repeatedly
      changed. If I here reprint my earliest conjecture, it is partly
      because I still think it may contain an element of truth, and partly
      because it serves as a convenient peg on which to hang a collection
      of facts which are much more valuable than any theories of mine. The
      reader who desires to acquaint himself more fully with the facts of
      totemism and with the theories that have been broached on the
      subject, will find them stated at length in my _Totemism and
      Exogamy_ (London, 1910). Here I will only call attention to the
      Arunta legend that the ancestors of the tribe kept their spirits in
      certain sacred sticks and stones (_churinga_), which bear a close
      resemblance to the well-known bull-roarers, and that when they went
      out hunting they hung these sticks or stones on certain sacred poles
      (_nurtunjas_) which represented their totems. See Baldwin Spencer
      and F. J. Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_ (London,
      1899), pp. 137 _sq._, 629. This tradition appears to point to a
      custom of transferring a man’s soul or spirit temporarily to his
      totem. Conversely when an Arunta is sick he scrapes his _churinga_
      and swallows the scrapings, as if to restore to himself the
      spiritual substance deposited in the instrument. See Baldwin Spencer
      and F. J. Gillen, _op. cit._ p. 135 note 1.

 M170 Sex totems and clan totems may both be based on the notion that men
      and women keep their external souls in their totems, whether these
      are animals, plants, or what not.

  587 (Sir) George Grey, _Journals of Two Expeditions of Discovery in
      North-West and Western Australia_ (London, 1841), ii. 228 _sq._

  588 L. Fison and A. W. Howitt, _Kamilaroi and Kurnai_, p. 169. According
      to Dr. Howitt, it is a serious offence to kill the totem of another
      person “with intent to injure him” (_Journal of the Anthropological
      Institute_, xviii. (1889) p. 53). Such an intention seems to imply a
      belief in a sympathetic connexion between the man and the animal.
      Similarly the Siena of the Ivory Coast, in West Africa, who have
      totemism, believe that if a man kills one of his totemic animals, a
      member of his totemic clan dies instantaneously. See Maurice
      Delafosse, “Le peuple Siéna ou Sénoufo,” _Revue des Études
      Ethnographiques et Sociologiques_, i. (1908) p. 452.

 M171 The savage may imagine his life to be bound up with that of more
      animals than one at the same time; for many savages think that every
      person has more souls than one.

  589 According to Plato, the different parts of the soul were lodged in
      different parts of the body (_Timaeus_, pp. 69C-72D), and as only
      one part, on his theory, was immortal, Lucian seems not unnaturally
      to have interpreted the Platonic doctrine to mean that every man had
      more than one soul (_Demonax_, 33).

  590 J. J. M. de Groot, _The Religious System of China_, iv. (Leyden,
      1901) pp. 3 _sq._, 70-75.

  591 Le sieur de la Borde, “Relation de l’Origine, Mœurs, Coustumes,
      Religion, Guerres et Voyages des Caraibes sauvages des Isles
      Antilles de l’Amerique,” p. 15, in _Recueil de divers Voyages faits
      en Afrique et en l’Amerique_ (Paris, 1684).

  592 Washington Matthews, _The Hidatsa Indians_ (Washington, 1877), p.
      50.

  593 H. Ling Roth, “Low’s Natives of Borneo,” _Journal of the
      Anthropological Institute_, xxi. (1892) p. 117; W. W. Skeat, _Malay
      Magic_ (London, 1900), p. 50.

  594 A. C. Kruijt, “Een en ander aangaande het geestelijk en
      maatschappelijk leven van den Poso-Alfoer,” _Mededeelingen van wege
      het Nederlandsche Zendelinggenootschap_, xxxix. (1895) pp. 3 _sq._

  595 A. Bastian, _Die Völker des östlichen Asien_, iii. (Jena, 1867) p.
      248.

  596 In some tribes, chiefly of North American Indians, every man has an
      individual or personal totem in addition to the totem of his clan.
      This personal totem is usually the animal of which he dreamed during
      a long and solitary fast at puberty. See _Totemism and Exogamy_, i.
      49-52, iii. 370-456, where the relation of the individual or
      personal totem (if we may call it so) to the clan totem is
      discussed. It is quite possible that, as some good authorities
      incline to believe, the clan totem has been developed out of the
      personal totem by inheritance. See Miss Alice C. Fletcher, _The
      Import of the Totem_, pp. 3 _sqq._ (paper read before the American
      Association for the Advancement of Science, August 1887, separate
      reprint); Fr. Boas, “The Social Organization and the Secret
      Societies of the Kwakiutl Indians,” _Report of the United States
      National Museum for 1895_ (Washington, 1897), pp. 323 _sq._,
      336-338, 393. In the bush souls of the Calabar negroes (see above,
      pp. 204 _sqq._) we seem to have something like the personal totem on
      its way to become hereditary and so to grow into the totem of a
      clan.

 M172 The Battas of Sumatra, who have totemism, believe that every person
      has a soul which is always outside of his body.

  597 J. B. Neumann, “Het Pane- en Bila-stroomgebied op het eiland
      Sumatra,” _Tijdschrift van het Nederlandsch Aardrijkskundig
      Genootschap_, Tweede Serie, dl. iii. Afdeeling, meer uitgebreide
      artikelen, No. 2 (1886), pp. 311 _sq._; _id._, dl. iv. No. 1 (1887),
      pp. 8 _sq._; Van Hoëvell, “Iets over ’t oorlogvoeren der Batta’s,”
      _Tijdschrift voor Nederlandsch Indië_, N.S., vii. (1878) p. 434; G.
      A. Wilken, _Verspreide Geschriften_ (The Hague, 1912), i. 296, 306
      _sq._, 309, 325 _sq._; L. de Backer, _L’Archipel Indien_ (Paris,
      1874), p. 470; Col. Yule, in _Journal of the Anthropological
      Institute_, ix. (1880) p. 295; Joachim Freiherr von Brenner, _Besuch
      bei den Kannibalen Sumatras_ (Würzburg, 1894), pp. 197 _sqq._; P. A.
      L. E. van Dijk, “Eenige aanteekeningen omtrent de verschillenden
      stammen (_Margas_) en de stamverdeling bij de Battaks,” _Tijdschrift
      voor Indische Taal- Land- en Volkenkunde_, xxxviii. (1895) pp. 296
      _sq._; M. Joustra, “Naar het landschap Goenoeng,” _Mededeelingen van
      wege het Nederlandsche Zendelinggenootschap_, xlv. (1901) pp. 80
      _sq._; _id._, “Het leven, de zeden en gewoonten der Bataks,”
      _Mededeelingen van wege het Nederlandsche Zendelinggenootschap_,
      xlvi. (1902) pp. 387 _sqq._; J. E. Neumann, “Kemali, Pantang, en
      Rĕboe bij de Karo-Bataks,” _Tijdschrift voor Indische Taal- Land- en
      Volkenkunde_, xlviii. (1906) p. 512. See further _Totemism and
      Exogamy_, ii. 185 _sqq._

  598 B. Hagen, “Beiträge zur Kenntniss der Battareligion,” _Tijdschrift
      voor Indische Taal- Land- en Volkenkunde_, xxviii. (1883) p. 514. J.
      B. Neumann (_op. cit._ dl. iii. No. 2, pp. 299) is the authority for
      the seven souls. According to another writer, six out of the seven
      souls reside outside of the body; one of them dwells in heaven, the
      remaining five have no definite place of abode, but are so closely
      related to the man that were they to abandon him his health would
      suffer. See J. Freiherr von Brenner, _Besuch bei den Kannibalen
      Sumatras_, pp. 239 _sq._ A different account of Batta psychology is
      given by Mr. Westenberg. According to him, each Batta has only one
      _tendi_ (not three or seven of them); and the _tendi_ is something
      between a soul and a guardian spirit. It always resides outside of
      the body, and on its position near, before, behind, above, or below,
      the welfare of its owner is supposed in great measure to depend. But
      in addition each man has two invisible guardian spirits (his _kaka_
      and _agi_) whose help he invokes in great danger; one is the seed by
      which he was begotten, the other is the afterbirth, and these he
      calls respectively his elder and his younger brother. Mr.
      Westenberg’s account refers specially to the Karo-Battas. See C. J.
      Westenberg, “Aanteekeningen omtrent de godsdienstige begrippen der
      Karo-Bataks,” _Bijdragen tot de Taal- Land- en Volkenkunde van
      Nederlandsch Indië_, xli. (1892) pp. 228 _sq._

 M173 If a totem is the receptacle in which a man keeps his external soul,
      it is no wonder that savages should conceal the secret from
      strangers.

  599 Compare Ch. Hose and W. McDougall, _The Pagan Tribes of Borneo_
      (London, 1912), ii. 90 _sqq._: “An important institution among some
      of the Ibans, which occurs but in rare instances among the other
      peoples, is the _ngarong_ or secret helper. The _ngarong_ is one of
      the very few topics in regard to which the Ibans display any
      reluctance to speak freely. So great is their reserve in this
      connection that one of us lived for fourteen years on friendly terms
      with Ibans of various districts without ascertaining the meaning of
      the word _ngarong_, or suspecting the great importance of the part
      played by the notion in the lives of some of these people. The
      _ngarong_ seems to be usually the spirit of some ancestor or dead
      relative, but not always so, and it is not clear that it is always
      conceived as the spirit of a deceased human being. This spirit
      becomes the special protector of some individual Iban, to whom in a
      dream he manifests himself, in the first place in human form, and
      announces that he will be his secret helper.... When, as is most
      commonly the case, the secret helper takes on the form of some
      animal, all individuals of that species become objects of especial
      regard to the fortunate Iban; he will not kill or eat any such
      animal, and he will as far as possible restrain others from doing
      so.” Thus the _ngarong_ or secret helper of the Ibans closely
      resembles what I have called the individual or personal totem.

  600 It is not merely the personal name which is often shrouded in
      mystery (see _Taboo and the Perils of the Soul_, pp. 318 _sqq._);
      the names of the clans and their subdivisions are objects of
      mysterious reverence among many, if not all, of the Siouan tribes of
      North America, and are never used in ordinary conversation. See J.
      Owen Dorsey, “Osage Traditions,” _Sixth Annual Report of the Bureau
      of Ethnology_ (Washington, 1888), p. 396. Among the Yuin of
      South-Eastern Australia “the totem name was called _Budjan_, and it
      was said to be more like _Joïa_, or magic, than a name; and it was
      in one sense a secret name, for with it an enemy might cause injury
      to its bearer by magic. Thus very few people knew the totem names of
      others, the name being told to a youth by his father at his
      initiation” (A. W. Howitt, _Native Tribes of South-East Australia_,
      London, 1904, p. 133).

 M174 This view of totemism may help to explain the rite of death and
      resurrection which forms part of many initiatory ceremonies among
      savages.

  601 Theodor Benfey, _Pantschatantra_ (Leipsic, 1859), i. 128 _sq._
      Similarly a man of the Kulin tribe in Victoria was called Kurburu,
      that is, “native bear,” because the spirit of a native bear was
      supposed to have entered into him when he killed the animal, and to
      have endowed him with its wonderful cleverness. This I learn from
      Miss E. B. Howitt’s _Folklore and Legends of some Victorian Tribes_
      (chapter vi.), which I have been privileged to see in manuscript.
      Among the Chiquites Indians of Paraguay sickness was sometimes
      accounted for by supposing that the soul of a deer or a turtle had
      entered into the patient. See _Lettres Édifiantes et Curieuses_,
      Nouvelle Édition, viii. (Paris, 1781) p. 339. We have seen (pp. 213
      _sq._) that the Indians of Honduras made an alliance with the animal
      that was to be their _nagual_ by offering some of their own blood to
      it. Conversely the North American Indian kills the animal which is
      to be his personal totem, and thenceforth wears some part of the
      creature as an amulet (_Totemism and Exogamy_, i. 50). These facts
      seem to point to the establishment of a blood covenant, involving an
      interchange of life between a man and his personal totem or
      _nagual_; and among the Fans of West Africa, as we saw (above, p.
      201), such a covenant is actually supposed to exist between a
      sorcerer and his _elangela_.

 M175 The rite of death and resurrection among the Wonghi of New South
      Wales.

  602 A. L. P. Cameron, “Notes on some Tribes of New South Wales,”
      _Journal of the Anthropological Institute_, xiv. (1885) pp. 357
      _sq._ Compare A. W. Howitt, _Native Tribes of South-East Australia_
      (London, 1904), pp. 588 _sq._

 M176 Use of the bull-roarer at initiatory ceremonies in Australia. The
      sound of the bull-roarer compared to thunder. Belief of the Dieri
      that by sounding a bull-roarer a newly initiated young man produces
      a supply of edible snakes and lizards.

  603 Baldwin Spencer and F. J. Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central
      Australia_ (London, 1899), pp. 213, 453.

  604 A. W. Howitt, _Native Tribes of South-East Australia_ (London,
      1904), p. 538. As to Daramulun (of whose name Thuremlin is no doubt
      only a dialectical variation) see _id._, pp. 407, 493, 494 _sq._,
      497, 499, 500, 507, 523 _sq._, 526, 528, 529 _sq._, 535, 540, 541,
      585 _sq._, 587; _id._, “On some Australian Ceremonies of
      Initiation,” _Journal of the Anthropological Institute_, xiii.
      (1884) pp. 442, 443, 446, 447, 448, 450, 451, 452, 455, 456, 459. On
      the bull-roarer see Andrew Lang, _Custom and Myth_ (London, 1884),
      pp. 29-44; J. D. E. Schmeltz, _Das Schwirrholz_ (Hamburg, 1896); A.
      C. Haddon, _The Study of Man_ (London and New York, 1898), pp.
      277-327; J. G. Frazer, “On some Ceremonies of the Central Australian
      Aborigines,” _Proceedings of the Australasian Association for the
      Advancement of Science for the Year 1900_ (Melbourne, 1901), pp.
      317-322. The religious or magical use of the bull-roarer is best
      known in Australia. See, for example, L. Fison and A. W. Howitt,
      _Kamilaroi and Kurnai_ (Melbourne, Sydney, Adelaide, and Brisbane,
      1880), pp. 267-269; A. W. Howitt, _Native Tribes of South-East
      Australia_, pp. 354, 509 _sq._, 514, 515, 517, 569, 571, 575, 578,
      579, 582, 583, 584, 589, 592, 594, 595, 606, 659 _sq._, 670, 672,
      696, 715; Baldwin Spencer and F. J. Gillen, _Native Tribes of
      Central Australia_ (London, 1899), pp. 246, 344, 347; W. Baldwin
      Spencer, _Introduction to the Study of Certain Native Tribes of the
      Northern Territory_ (_Bulletin of the Northern Territory_, No. 2)
      (Melbourne, 1912), pp. 19 _sq._, 23, 24, 31 _sq._, 37 _sqq._; A. R.
      Brown, “Three Tribes of Western Australia,” _Journal of the Royal
      Anthropological Institute_, xliii. (1913) pp. 168, 174; R.
      Pettazzoni, “Mythologie Australienne du Rhombe,” _Revue de
      l’Histoire des Religions_, lxv. (1912) pp. 149-170. But in the essay
      just referred to Mr. Andrew Lang shewed that the instrument has been
      similarly employed not only by savages in various parts of the
      world, but also by the ancient Greeks in their religious mysteries.
      In the Torres Straits Islands it is used both at the initiation of
      young men and as a magical instrument. See _Reports of the Cambridge
      Anthropological Expedition to Torres Straits_, v. (Cambridge, 1904)
      pp. 217, 218, 219, 328, 330-333, 346, 352. In various parts of New
      Guinea it is sounded at the initiation of young men and is carefully
      concealed from women; the sound is thought to be the voice of a
      spirit. See Rev. J. Chalmers, _Pioneering in New Guinea_ (London,
      1887), p. 85; _id._, “Toaripi,” _Journal of the Anthropological
      Institute_, xxvii. (1898) p. 329; Rev. J. Holmes, “Initiation
      Ceremonies of Natives of the Papuan Gulf,” _Journal of the
      Anthropological Institute_, xxxii. (1902) pp. 420, 424 _sq._; O.
      Schellong, “Das Barlum-fest der Gegend Finsch-hafens,”
      _Internationales Archiv für Ethnographie_, ii. (1889) pp. 150 _sq._,
      154 _sq._; F. Grabowsky, “Der Bezirk von Hatzfeldthafen und seine
      Bewohner,” _Petermanns Mitteilungen_, xli. (1895) p. 189; B. Hagen,
      _Unter den Papua’s_ (Wiesbaden, 1899), pp. 188 _sq._; Max Krieger,
      _Neu-Guinea_ (Berlin, preface dated 1899), pp. 168 _sqq._; J.
      Vetter, in _Mitteilungen der Geographischen Gesellschaft zu Jena_,
      xi. (1892) p. 105; K. Vetter, in _Nachrichten über Kaiser
      Wilhelms-Land und den Bismarck-Archipel, 1897_ (Berlin), p. 93; R.
      Neuhauss, _Deutsch Neu-Guinea_ (Berlin, 1911), pp. 36, 297, 403, 406
      _sq._, 410-412, 494 _sqq._; Otto Reche, _Der Kaiserin-Augusta-Fluss_
      (Hamburg, 1913), pp. 349 _sqq._ (_Ergebnisse der Südsee-Expedition
      1908-1910_, herausgegeben von G. Thilenius). It is similarly used at
      the circumcision-festivals in the French Islands, to the west of New
      Britain (R. Parkinson, _Dreissig Jahre in der Südsee_, Stuttgart,
      1907, pp. 640 _sq._), and it is employed at mysteries or mourning
      ceremonies in Bougainville and other Melanesian Islands. See R.
      Parkinson, _op. cit._ pp. 658 _sq._; _id._, _Zur Ethnographie der
      Nordwestlichen Salomo Inseln_ (Berlin, 1899), p. 11; R. H.
      Codrington, _The Melanesians_ (Oxford, 1891), pp. 98 _sq._, 342.
      Among the Minangkabauers of Sumatra the bull-roarer (_gasiĕng_) is
      used by a rejected lover to induce the demons to carry off the soul
      of the jilt and so drive her mad. It is made of the frontal bone of
      a brave or skilful man, and some of the intended victim’s hair is
      attached to it. See J. L. van der Toorn, “Het animisme bij den
      Minangkabauer in der Padangsche Bovenlanden,” _Bijdragen tot de
      Taal- Land- en Volkenkunde van Nederlandsch Indië_, xxxix. (1890)
      pp. 55 _sq._ Among the Yoruba-speaking negroes of the Slave Coast in
      West Africa, particularly at Abeokuta, the sound of the bull-roarer
      is supposed to be the voice of a great bogey named Oro, whose
      votaries compose a secret society under the name of Ogboni. When the
      sound of the bull-roarer is heard in the streets, every woman must
      shut herself up in her house and not look out of the window under
      pain of death. See R. F. Burton, _Abeokuta and the Cameroons
      Mountains_ (London, 1863), i. 197 _sq._;, Missionary Chautard, in
      _Annales de la Propagation de la Foi_, lv. (Lyons, 1883) pp.
      192-198; Missionary Baudin, “Le Fétichisme,” _Les Missions
      Catholiques_, xvi. (1884) p. 257; P. Bouche, _La Côte des Esclaves
      et le Dahomey_ (Paris, 1885), p. 124; Mrs. R. B. Batty and Governor
      Moloney, “Notes on the Yoruba Country,” _Journal of the
      Anthropological Institute_, xix. (1890) pp. 160-164; A. B. Ellis,
      _The Yoruba-speaking Peoples of the Slave Coast of West Africa_
      (London, 1894), pp. 110 _sq._; R. H. Stone, _In Afric’s Forest and
      Jungle_ (Edinburgh and London, 1900), p. 88; L. Frobenius, _Die
      Masken und Geheimbünde Afrikas_ (Halle, 1898), pp. 95 _sqq._ (_Nova
      Acta, Abh. der Kaiserl. Leop.-Carol. Deutschen Akademie der
      Naturforscher_, vol. lxxiv. No. 1). Among the Nandi of British East
      Africa and the Bushongo of the Congo region bull-roarers are sounded
      by men to frighten novices at initiation. See A. C. Hollis, _The
      Nandi_ (Oxford, 1909), pp. 40, 56; E. Torday and T. A. Joyce, _Les
      Bushongo_ (Brussels, 1910), p. 82. Among the Caffres of South Africa
      and the Boloki of the Upper Congo the bull-roarer is a child’s toy,
      but yet is thought to be endowed with magical virtue. See below, p.
      232 note 3. Among the Koskimo Indians of British Columbia the sound
      of the bull-roarers is supposed to be the voice of a spirit who
      comes to fetch away the novices. See Franz Boas, “The Social
      Organization and the Secret Societies of the Kwakiutl Indians,”
      _Report of the United States National Museum_ (Washington, 1897), p.
      610. The bull-roarer is used as a sacred or magical instrument for
      the making of rain by the Zuñi and other Pueblo Indians of Arizona
      and New Mexico, also by the Navajos and Apaches of the same region,
      and by the Utes of Nevada and Utah. See Dr. Washington Matthews,
      “The Mountain Chant, a Navajo Ceremony,” _Fifth Annual Report of the
      Bureau of Ethnology_ (Washington, 1887), pp. 435, 436; Captain J. G.
      Bourke, “The Medicine-men of the Apache,” _Ninth Annual Report of
      the Bureau of Ethnology_ (Washington, 1892), pp. 476-479; Mrs.
      Matilda Coxe Stevenson, “The Zuñi Indians,” _Twenty-third Report of
      the Bureau of American Ethnology_ (Washington, 1904), pp. 115, 117,
      128 _sq._, 175, 177, 355. The Guatusos of Costa Rica ascertain the
      will of the deity by listening to the humming sound of the
      bull-roarer. See Dr. C. Sapper, “Ein Besuch bei den Guatusos in
      Costarica,” _Globus_, lxxvi. (1899) p. 352; _id._, “Beiträge zur
      Ethnographie des südlichen Mittelamerika,” _Petermanns
      Mitteilungen_, xlvii. (1901) p. 36. The Caripunas Indians of the
      Madeira River, in Brazil, sound bull-roarers in lamentations for the
      dead. See Franz Keller, _The Amazon and Madeira Rivers_ (London,
      1874), p. 124. The Bororo of Brazil also swing bull-roarers at their
      festivals of the dead; the sound of them is the signal for the women
      to hide themselves; it is believed that women and children would die
      if they saw a bull-roarer. See K. von den Steinen, _Unter den
      Naturvölkern Zentral-Brasilien’s_ (Berlin, 1894), pp. 497-499. The
      Nahuqua and other Brazilian tribes use bull-roarers in their masked
      dances, but make no mystery of them. See K. von den Steinen, _op.
      cit._ pp. 327 _sq._ As to the magical use of the bull-roarer, see
      pp. 230 _sqq._

  605 A. W. Howitt, “The Dieri and other Kindred Tribes of Central
      Australia,” _Journal of the Anthropological Institute_, xx. (1891)
      p. 83; _id._, _Native Tribes of South-East Australia_, p. 660. In
      the latter passage Dr. Howitt omits the not unimportant particular
      that the bull-roarer is swung for this purpose by the young man
      _before his wounds are healed_.

  606 On the desert nature of Central Australia and the magical-like
      change wrought in its fauna and flora by heavy rain, see Baldwin
      Spencer and F. J. Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_
      (London, 1899), pp. 4 _sq._; _Totemism and Exogamy_, i. 170 _sqq._,
      316 _sqq._, 341 _sq._; J. G. Frazer, “Howitt and Fison,”
      _Folk-lore_, xx. (1909) pp. 160, 162 _sq._, 164.

 M177 The bull-roarer used by the Indians of New Mexico and Arizona to
      procure rain. The bull-roarer used in Torres Straits Islands to
      produce wind and good crops.

  607 Captain J. G. Bourke, “The Medicine-men of the Apache,” _Ninth
      Annual Report of the Bureau of Ethnology_ (Washington, 1892), pp.
      476 _sq._

  608 Mrs. Matilda Coxe Stevenson, “The Zuñi Indians,” _Twenty-third
      Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology_ (Washington,
      1904), pp. 115, 355.

  609 Mrs. Matilda Coxe Stevenson, _op. cit._ p. 175; compare _id._, pp.
      128 _sq._, 177.

  610 Dr. Washington Matthews, “The Navajo Chant,” _Fifth Annual Report of
      the Bureau of Ethnology_ (Washington, 1887), p. 436; compare _id._,
      p. 435, where the sound of the bull-roarer is said to be “like that
      of a rain storm.”

  611 Karl von den Steinen, _Unter den Naturvölkern Zentral-Brasiliens_
      (Berlin, 1894), p. 328.

_  612 Reports of the Cambridge Anthropological Expedition to Torres
      Straits_, v. (Cambridge, 1904) p. 352.

  613 G. McCall Theal, _Kaffir Folk-lore_ (London, 1886), pp. 222 _sq._;
      _id._, _Records of South-Eastern Africa_, vii. (1901) p. 456; Dudley
      Kidd, _The Essential Kafir_ (London, 1904), p. 333. For an analogous
      reason among the Boloki of the Upper Congo the elders do not like
      when boys play with bull-roarers, because the sound resembles the
      growl of a leopard and will attract these ferocious animals. See
      Rev. John H. Weeks, _Among Congo Cannibals_ (London, 1913), p. 157.

  614 A. C. Haddon, _Head-hunters, Black, White, and Brown_ (London,
      1901), p. 104; _Reports of the Cambridge Anthropological Expedition
      to Torres Straits_, v. (Cambridge, 1904) pp. 218, 219; Rev. J.
      Chalmers, “Notes on the Natives of Kiwai Island,” _Journal of the
      Anthropological Institute_, xxxiii. (1903) p. 119.

  615 H. Zahn, “Die Jabim,” in R. Neuhauss’s _Deutsch Neu-Guinea_ (Berlin,
      1911), iii. 333.

 M178 The whirling of bull-roarers by young men with bleeding backs in
      Australia seems to have been a rain-making ceremony.

_  616 The Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings_, i. 256-258.

  617 This appears to be the view also of Professor K. von den Steinen
      (_Unter den Naturvölkern Zentral-Brasiliens_, pp. 327 _sq._), who is
      probably right in thinking that the primary intention of the
      instrument is to make thunder, and that the idea of making rain is
      secondary.

 M179 The sound of the bull-roarer at initiation is believed by Australian
      women and children to be the voice of a spirit, who carries away the
      novices.

  618 A. W. Howitt, “On Australian Medicine Men,” _Journal of the
      Anthropological Institute_, xvi. (1887) pp. 47 _sq._; compare _id._,
      _Native Tribes of South-East Australia_, p. 596.

  619 Baldwin Spencer and F. J. Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central
      Australia_, p. 246 note 1; _id._, _Northern Tribes of Central
      Australia_ (London, 1904), p. 497. According to the classificatory
      system of relationship, which prevails among all the aborigines of
      Australia, a man may have, and generally has, a number of women who
      stand to him in the relation of mother as well as of sister, though
      there need not be a drop of blood in common between them, as we
      count kin. This explains the reference in the text to a boy’s
      “mothers.”

 M180 In some Australian tribes the women believe that lads at initiation
      are killed and brought to life again by a spirit, whose voice is
      heard in the sound of the bull-roarer.

  620 B. Spencer and F. J. Gillen, _Northern Tribes of Central Australia_,
      pp. 342 _sq._, 498.

  621 Spencer and Gillen, _op. cit._ p. 498.

  622 Spencer and Gillen, _op. cit._ pp. 366 _sq._, 501.

  623 Spencer and Gillen, _op. cit._ pp. 373, 501.

 M181 A drama of resurrection from the dead used to be shewn to novices at
      initiation in some tribes of New South Wales. Dr. Howitt’s
      description of the scene. The seeming dead man in the grave. The
      resurrection from the grave.

  624 A. W. Howitt, _Native Tribes of South-East Australia_, pp. 554-556.
      Compare _id._, “On some Australian Ceremonies of Initiation,”
      _Journal of the Anthropological Institute_, xiii. (1884) pp. 453
      _sq._

 M182 In some Australian tribes a medicine-man at his initiation is
      thought to be killed and raised again from the dead.

  625 B. Spencer and F. J. Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_,
      pp. 523-525; _id._, _Northern Tribes of Central Australia_, 480
      _sq._, 484, 485, 487, 488; _id._, _Across Australia_ (London, 1912),
      ii. 334 _sqq._

  626 Spencer and Gillen, _Northern Tribes of Central Australia_, pp. 480
      _sq._

  627 F. J. Gillen, “Notes on some Manners and Customs of the Aborigines
      of the McDonnel Ranges belonging to the Arunta Tribe,” in _Report on
      the Work of the Horn Scientific Expedition to Central Australia_,
      Part iv. _Anthropology_ (London and Melbourne, 1896), pp. 180 _sq._;
      B. Spencer and F. J. Gillen, _Native Tribes of Central Australia_
      (London, 1899), pp. 523 _sq._; _id._, _Across Australia_ (London,
      1912), ii. 335.

 M183 Notable features in the initiation of Australian medicine-men.

  628 B. Spencer and F. J. Gillen, _Northern Tribes of Central Australia_,
      pp. 487, 488; _id._, _Across Australia_, ii. 481 _sq._

 M184 Rites of initiation in some tribes of German New Guinea. The novices
      thought to be swallowed and disgorged by a monster, whose voice is
      heard in the hum of the bull-roarers.
 M185 The return of the novices after initiation.

  629 As to the initiatory rites among the Yabim, see K. Vetter, in
      _Nachrichten über Kaiser Wilhelms-Land und den Bismarck-Archipel_,
      1897, pp. 92 _sq._; _id._, in _Mitteilungen der Geographischen
      Gesellschaft zu Jena_, xi. (1892) p. 105; _id._, _Komm herüber und
      hilf uns!_ ii. (Barmen, 1898) p. 18; _id._, cited by M. Krieger,
      _Neu-Guinea_ (Berlin, preface dated 1899), pp. 167-170; O.
      Schellong, “Das Barlum-fest der Gegend Finschhafens,”
      _Internationales Archiv für Ethnographie_, ii. (1889) pp. 145-162;
      H. Zahn, “Die Jabim,” in R. Neuhauss’s _Deutsch Neu-Guinea_ (Berlin,
      1911), iii. 296-298. As to the initiatory rites among the Bukaua,
      see S. Lehner, “Bukaua,” in R. Neuhauss’s _Deutsch Neu-Guinea_, iii.
      402-410; among the Kai, see Ch. Keysser, “Aus dem Kai-Leute,”
      _ibid._ pp. 34-40; among the Tami, see G. Bamler, “Tami,” _ibid._
      pp. 493-507. I have described the rites of the various tribes more
      in detail in _The Belief in Immortality and the Worship of the
      Dead_, i. 250-255, 260 _sq._, 290 _sq._, 301 _sq._ In the Bukaua and
      Tami tribes the initiation ceremonies are performed not in the
      forest but in a special house built for the purpose in the village,
      which the women are obliged to vacate till the rites are over.

 M186 The monster who is supposed to swallow the novices is apparently
      conceived as a ghost or ancestral spirit.

_  630 The Belief in Immortality and the Worship of the Dead_, i. 250,
      251, 255, 261, 290 _sq._, 301. Among the Bukaua not only does the
      bull-roarer bear the general name for a ghost (_balum_), but each
      particular bull-roarer bears in addition the name of a particular
      dead man, and varies in dignity and importance with the dignity and
      importance of the deceased person whom it represents. And besides
      the big bull-roarers with gruff voices there are little bull-roarers
      with shrill voices, which represent the shrill-voiced wives of the
      ancient heroes. See S. Lehner, “Bukaua,” in R. Neuhauss’s _Deutsch
      Neu-Guinea_, iii. 410-412.

  631 R. Pöch, “Vierter Bericht über meine Reise nach Neu-Guinea,”
      _Sitzungsberichte der mathematischen-naturwissenschaftlichen Klasse
      der Kaiserlichen Akademie der Wissenschaften_ (Vienna), cxv. (1906)
      Abteilung i. pp. 901, 902.

 M187 The drama of death and resurrection used to be enacted before young
      men at initiation in some parts of Fiji.

  632 Rev. Lorimer Fison, “The _Nanga_ or Sacred Stone Enclosure of
      Wainimala, Fiji,” _Journal of the Anthropological Institute_, xiv.
      (1885) p. 27. The _Nanga_ or sacred enclosure of stones, with its
      sacred rites, was known only to certain tribes of Fiji (the Nuyaloa,
      Vatusila, Mbatiwai, and Mdavutukia), who inhabited a comparatively
      small area, barely a third, of the island of Viti Levu. As to the
      institution in general, see Rev. Lorimer Fison, _op. cit._ pp.
      14-31; A. B. Joske, “The Nanga of Viti-levu,” _Internationales
      Archiv für Ethnographie_, ii. (1889) pp. 254-266; Basil Thomson,
      _The Fijians_ (London, 1908), pp. 146-157. Compare _The Belief in
      Immortality and the Worship of the Dead_, i. 427-438.

  633 Rev. Lorimer Fison, _op. cit._ p. 26; Basil Thomson, _op. cit._ 147.

  634 Rev. Lorimer Fison, _op. cit._ pp. 27 _sq._ The phrase “the
      ancestral gods” is used by Mr. Fison, one of our best authorities on
      Fijian religion. Mr. Basil Thomson (_op. cit._ p. 157) questions the
      accuracy of Mr. Fison’s account of this vicarious sacrifice on the
      ground that every youth was regularly circumcised as a matter of
      course. But there seems to be no inconsistency between the two
      statements. While custom required that every youth should be
      circumcised, the exact time for performing the ceremony need not
      have been rigidly prescribed; and if a saving or atoning virtue was
      attributed to the sacrifice of foreskins, it might be thought
      desirable in cases of emergency, such as serious illness, to
      anticipate it for the benefit of the sufferer.

  635 According to Mr. Fison, the enclosure was divided into three
      compartments; Mr. Basil Thomson describes only two, though by
      speaking of one of them as the “Middle Nanga” he seems to imply that
      there were three. The structure was a rough parallelogram lying east
      and west, about a hundred feet long by fifty feet broad, enclosed by
      walls or rows of stone slabs embedded endwise in the earth. See
      Basil Thomson, _op. cit._ pp. 147 _sq._

 M188 Description of the rite. The mimic death. The mimic resurrection.
      The sacramental meal. The intention of the rite.

  636 A. B. Joske, “The Nanga of Vitilevu,” _Internationales Archiv für
      Ethnographie_, ii. (1889) p. 259; Basil Thomson, _The Fijians_, pp.
      150 _sq._ According to Mr. Fison (_op. cit._ p. 19) the initiatory
      ceremonies were held as a rule only every second year; but he adds:
      “This period, however, is not necessarily restricted to two years.
      There are always a number of youths who are growing to the proper
      age, and the length of the interval depends upon the decision of the
      elders.” Perhaps the seeming discrepancy between our authorities on
      this point may be explained by Mr. Joske’s statement (p. 259) that
      the rites are held in alternate years by two different sets of men,
      the Kai Vesina and the Kai Rukuruku, both of whom claim to be
      descended from the original founders of the rites. The custom of
      dating the New Year by observation of the Pleiades was apparently
      universal among the Polynesians. See _The Spirits of the Corn and of
      the Wild_, i. 312 _sq._

  637 Rev. Lorimer Fison, _op. cit._ pp. 20-23; A. B. Joske, _op. cit._
      pp. 264 _sq._; Basil Thomson, _The Fijians_, pp. 150-153. The
      sacramental character of the meal is recognized by Mr. Fison, who
      says (p. 23) that after the performance of the rites the novices
      “are now _Vīlavóu_, accepted members of the _Nanga_, qualified to
      take their place among the men of the community, though still only
      on probation. As children—their childhood being indicated by their
      shaven heads—they were presented to the ancestors, and their
      acceptance was notified by what (looking at the matter from the
      natives’ standpoint) we might, without irreverance, almost call the
      _sacrament_ of food and water, too sacred even for the elders’ hands
      to touch.”

 M189 Initiatory rite in the island of Rook: pretence that the novices are
      swallowed by the devil. Secret society of the Duk-duk in New
      Britain. Novices supposed to be killed. The new birth.

  638 Paul Reina, “Ueber die Bewohner der Insel Rook,” _Zeitschrift für
      allgemeine Erdkunde_, N.F., iv. (1858) pp. 356 _sq._

  639 R. Parkinson, _Im Bismarck Archipel_ (Leipsic, 1887), pp. 129-134;
      _id._ _Dreissig Jahre in der Südsee_ (Stuttgart, 1907), pp. 567
      _sqq._; Rev. G. Brown, “Notes on the Duke of York Group, New
      Britain, and New Ireland,” _Journal of the Royal Geographical
      Society_, xlvii. (1878) pp. 148 _sq._; H. H. Romilly, “The Islands
      of the New Britain Group,” _Proceedings of the Royal Geographical
      Society_, N.S., ix. (1887) pp. 11 _sq._; Rev. G. Brown, _ibid._ p.
      17; _id._, _Melanesians and Polynesians_ (London, 1910), pp. 60
      _sqq._; W. Powell, _Wanderings in a Wild Country_ (London, 1883),
      pp. 60-66; C. Hager, _Kaiser Wilhelm’s Land und der Bismarck
      Archipel_ (Leipsic, N.D.), pp. 115-128; Hubner, quoted by W. H.
      Dall, “On masks, labrets, and certain aboriginal customs,” _Third
      Annual Report of the Bureau of Ethnology_ (Washington, 1884), p.
      100; P. A. Kleintitschen, _Die Küstenbewohner der Gazellehalbinsel_
      (Hiltrup bei Münster, N.D.), pp. 350 _sqq._; H. Schurtz,
      _Altersklassen und Männerbünde_ (Berlin, 1902), pp. 369-377. The
      inhabitants of these islands are divided into two exogamous classes,
      which in the Duke of York Island have two insects for their totems.
      One of the insects is the _mantis religiosus_; the other is an
      insect that mimics the leaf of the horse-chestnut tree very closely.
      See Rev. B. Danks, “Marriage Customs of the New Britain Group,”
      _Journal of the Anthropological Institute_, xviii. (1889) pp. 281
      _sq._; _Totemism and Exogamy_, ii. 118 _sqq._

 M190 Initiatory rite in Halmahera: pretence of begetting the novices
      anew.

  640 J. G. F. Riedel, “Galela und Tobeloresen,” _Zeitschrift für
      Ethnologie_, xvii. (1885) pp. 81 _sq._

 M191 The Kakian association in Ceram. The rite of initiation: pretence of
      killing the novices.

  641 The Kakian association and its initiatory ceremonies have often been
      described. See François Valentyn, _Oud en nieuw Oost-Indiën_
      (Dordrecht and Amsterdam, 1724-1726), iii. 3 _sq._; Von Schmid, “Het
      Kakihansch Verbond op het eiland Ceram,” _Tijdschrift voor Neérlands
      Indië_ (Batavia, 1843), dl. ii. pp. 25-38; A. van Ekris, “Het
      Ceramsche Kakianverbond,” _Mededeelingen van wege het Nederlandsche
      Zendelinggenootschap_, ix. (1865) pp. 205-226 (repeated with slight
      changes in _Tijdschrift voor Indische Taal- Land- en Volkenkunde_,
      xvi. (1867) pp. 290-315); P. Fournier, “De Zuidkust van Ceram,”
      _Tijdschrift voor Indische Taal- Land- en Volkenkunde_, xvi. (1867)
      pp. 154-156; W. A. van Rees, _Die Pionniers der Beschaving in
      Neêrlands Indië_ (Arnheim, 1867), pp. 92-106; G. W. W. C. Baron van
      Hoëvell, _Ambon en meer bepaaldelijk de Oeliasers_ (Dordrecht,
      1875), pp. 153 _sqq._; Schulze, “Ueber Ceram und seine Bewohner,”
      _Verhandlungen der Berliner Gesellschaft für Anthropologie,
      Ethnologie, und Urgeschichte_ (1877), p. 117; W. Joest, “Beiträge
      zur Kenntniss der Eingebornen der Insel Formosa und Ceram,” _ibid._
      (1882) p. 64; H. von Rosenberg, _Der Malayische Archipel_ (Leipsic,
      1878), p. 318; A. Bastian, _Indonesien_, i. (Berlin, 1884) pp.
      145-148; J. G. F. Riedel, _De sluik- en kroesharige rassen tusschen
      Selebes en Papua_ (The Hague, 1886), pp. 107-111; O. D. Tauern,
      “Ceram,” _Zeitschrift für Ethnologie_, xlv. (1913) pp. 167 _sq._ The
      best accounts are those of Valentyn, Von Schmid, Van Ekris, Van
      Rees, and Riedel, which are accordingly followed in the text.

 M192 The resurrection of the novices.
 M193 The secret society of _Ndembo_ in the valley of the Lowe Congo.

  642 No reason is assigned for this curious choice of a president. Can it
      have been that, because negro children are born pale or nearly
      white, an albino was deemed a proper president for a society, all
      the initiated members of which claimed to have been born again?
      Speaking of the people of the Lower Congo the old English traveller
      Andrew Battel observes that “the children of this country are born
      white, but change their colour in two days’ time to a perfect black”
      (“Adventures of Andrew Battel,” in J. Pinkerton’s _Voyages and
      Travels_, xvi. London, 1814, p. 331).

 M194 Pretence of death as a preliminary to resurrection.
 M195 Seclusion of the novices.
 M196 Resurrection of the novices. Pretence of the novices that they have
      forgotten everything.

  643 Rev. J. H. Weeks, “Notes on some Customs of the Lower Congo People,”
      _Folk-lore_, xx. (1909) pp. 189-198; Rev. W. H. Bentley, _Life on
      the Congo_ (London, 1887), pp. 78 _sq._; _id._, _Pioneering on the
      Congo_ (London, 1900), i. 284-287. Mr. Weeks’s description of the
      institution is the fullest and I have followed it in the text. The
      custom was in vogue down to recent years, but seems to have been
      suppressed chiefly by the exertions of the missionaries. Besides the
      _ndembo_ guild there is, or was, in these regions another secret
      society known as the _nkimba_, which some writers have confused with
      the _ndembo_. The _nkimba_ was of a more harmless character than the
      other; indeed it seems even to have served some useful purposes,
      partly as a kind of freemasonry which encouraged mutual help among
      its members, partly as a system of police for the repression of
      crime, its professed object being to put down witchcraft and punish
      witches. Only males were admitted to it. Candidates for initiation
      were stupefied by a drug, but there was apparently no pretence of
      killing them and bringing them to life again. Members of the society
      had a home in the jungle away from the town, where the novices lived
      together for a period varying from six months to two years. They
      learned a secret language, and received new names; it was afterwards
      an offence to call a man by the name of his childhood. Instead of
      the red dye affected by members of the _ndembo_ guild, members of
      the _nkimba_ guild whitened their bodies with pipe clay and wore
      crinolines of palm frondlets. See Rev. W. H. Bentley, _Life on the
      Congo_, pp. 80-83; _id._, _Pioneering on the Congo_, i. 282-284;
      Rev. J. H. Weeks, _op. cit._ pp. 198-201; (Sir) H. H. Johnston, “A
      Visit to Mr. Stanley’s Stations on the River Congo,” _Proceedings of
      the Royal Geographical Society_, N. S. v. (1883) pp. 572 _sq._; E.
      Delmar Morgan, “Notes on the Lower Congo,” _id._, N.S. vi. (1884) p.
      193. As to these two secret societies on the Lower Congo, see
      further (Sir) H. H. Johnston, “On the Races of the Congo,” _Journal
      of the Anthropological Institute_, xiii. (1884) pp. 472 sq.; É.
      Dupont, _Lettres sur le Congo_ (Paris, 1889), pp. 96-100; Herbert
      Ward, _Five Years with the Congo Cannibals_ (London, 1890), pp. 54
      _sq._; _id._ “Ethnographical Notes relating to the Congo Tribes,”
      _Journal of the Anthropological Institute_, xxiv. (1895) pp. 288
      _sq._; E. J. Glave, _Six Years of Adventure in Congo Land_ (London,
      1893), pp. 80-83; L. Frobenius, _Die Masken und Geheimbünde Afrikas_
      (Halle, 1898), pp. 43-54 (_Nova Acta. Abh. der Kaiserl. Leop. Carol.
      Deutschen Akademie der Naturforscher_, vol. lxxiv. No. 1); H.
      Schurtz, _Altersklassen und Männerbünde_ (Berlin, 1902), pp.
      433-437; _Notes Annalytiques sur les Collections Ethnographiques du
      Musée du Congo_ (Brussels, 1902-1906), pp. 199-206; Ed. de Jonghe,
      _Les Sociétés Secrètes au Bas-Congo_ (Brussels, 1907), pp. 15 _sqq._
      (extract from the _Revue des Questions Scientifiques_, October
      1907). Some of these writers do not discriminate between the two
      societies, the _ndembo_ and the _nkimba_. According to our best
      authorities (Messrs. Bentley and Weeks) the two societies are quite
      distinct and neither of them has anything to do with circumcision,
      which is, however, prevalent in the region. See Rev. J. H. Weeks,
      “Notes on some Customs of the Lower Congo People,” _Folk-lore_, xx.
      (1909) pp. 304 _sqq._ A secret society of the Lower Congo which
      Adolf Bastian has described under the name of _quimba_ is probably
      identical with the _nkimba_. He speaks of a “Secret Order of those
      who have been born again,” and tells us that the candidates “are
      thrown into a death-like state and buried in the fetish house. When
      they are wakened to life again, they have (as in the Belliparo) lost
      their memory of everything that is past, even of their father and
      mother, and they can no longer remember their own name. Hence new
      names are given them according to the titles or ranks to which they
      are advanced.” See A. Bastian, _Die deutsche Expedition an der
      Loango-Küste_ (Jena, 1874-1875), ii. 15 _sqq._

 M197 Bastian’s account of the ritual of death and resurrection in West
      Africa.

  644 A. Bastian, _Ein Besuch in San Salvador_ (Bremen, 1859), pp. 82
      _sq._

 M198 Acquisition of a patron animal or guardian spirit in a dream.

  645 A. Bastian, _Die deutsche Expedition an der Loango-Küste_, ii. 183.
      Elsewhere Bastian says that about San Salvador lads at puberty are
      secluded in the forest and circumcised, and during their seclusion
      “each of them is mystically united to the fetish by which his life
      is henceforth determined, as the Brahman whispers the secret charm
      in the ear of him who has been born again.” See A. Bastian, _Ein
      Besuch in San Salvador_ (Bremen, 1859), pp. 85 _sq._

  646 H. Trilles, _Le Totémisme chez les Fâṅ_ (Münster i. W., 1912), pp.
      479 _sq._ The writer speaks of the guardian spirit as the individual
      totem of the young warrior.

 M199 Dapper’s account of the ritual of death and resurrection in the
      Belli-Paaro society.

  647 O. Dapper, _Description de l’Afrique_ (Amsterdam, 1686), pp. 268
      _sq._ Dapper’s account has been abridged in the text.

 M200 Miss Kingsley on the rites of initiation into secret societies in
      West Africa.

  648 Miss Mary H. Kingsley, _Travels in West Africa_ (London, 1867), p.
      531. Perhaps the smearing with clay may be intended to indicate that
      the novices have undergone the new birth; for the negro child,
      though born reddish-brown, soon turns slaty-grey (E. B. Tylor,
      _Anthropology_, London, 1881, p. 67), which would answer well enough
      to the hue of the clay-bedaubed novices.

 M201 The _purra_ or _poro_, a secret society of Sierra Leone. The new
      birth. The _semo_, a secret society of Senegambia. Death and
      resurrection at initiation.

  649 Thomas Winterbottom, _An Account of the Native Africans in the
      Neighbourhood of Sierra Leone_ (London, 1803), pp. 135 _sq._ Compare
      John Matthews, _A Voyage to the River Sierra-Leone_ (London, 1791),
      pp. 82-85; J. B. L. Durand, _Voyage au Sénégal_ (Paris, 1802), pp.
      183 _sq._ (whose account is copied without acknowledgment from
      Matthews). The _purra_ or _poro_ society also exists among the
      Timmes of Sierra Leone; in this tribe the novices are sometimes
      secluded from their families for ten years in the wood, they are
      tattooed on their backs and arms, and they learn a language which
      consists chiefly of names of plants and animals used in special
      senses. Women are not admitted to the society. See Zweifel et
      Moustier, “Voyage aux sources du Niger,” _Bulletin de la Société de
      Géographie_ (Paris), VI. Série, xv. (1878) pp. 108 _sq._

  650 T. J. Alldridge, _The Sherbro and its Hinterland_ (London, 1901), p.
      130. This work contains a comparatively full account of the _purra_
      or _poro_ society (pp. 124-131) and of the other secret societies of
      the country (pp. 131-149, 153-159). Compare L. Frobenius, _Die
      Masken und Geheimbünde Afrikas_ (Halle, 1898), pp. 138-144 (_Nova
      Acta, Abh. der Kaiserl. Leop.-Carol. Deutschen Akademie der
      Naturforscher_, vol. lxxiv. No. 1).

  651 Thomas Winterbottom, _An Account of the Native Africans in the
      Neighbourhood of Sierra Leone_ (London, 1803), pp. 137-139. As to
      the _semo_ or _simo_ society see further L. Frobenius, _op. cit._
      pp. 130-138.

 M202 Ritual of the new birth among the Akikuyu of British East Africa.

  652 Extract from a letter of Mr. A. C. Hollis to me. Mr. Hollis’s
      authority is Dr. T. W. W. Crawford of the Kenia Medical Mission.

  653 W. Scoresby Routledge and Katherine Routledge, _With a Prehistoric
      People, the Akikuyu of British East Africa_ (London, 1910), p. 152.
      Compare C. W. Hobley, “Kikuyu Customs and Beliefs,” _Journal of the
      Royal Anthropological Institute_, xl. (1910) p. 441.

  654 Mr. A. W. McGregor, of the Church Missionary Society, quoted by W.
      S. Routledge and K. Routledge, _With a Prehistoric People_, p. 151,
      note. 1. Mr. McGregor “has resided amongst the Akikuyu since 1901.
      He has by his tact and kindness won the confidence of the natives,
      and is the greatest authority on their language” (_id._, p. xxi).

  655 W. S. Routledge and K. Routledge, _op. cit._ p. 151.

 M203 Rites of initiation among the Bondeis of East Africa. Rites of
      initiation among the Bushongo of the Congo. The first ordeal. The
      second ordeal. The last ordeal: the descent from the tree.

  656 Rev. G. Dale, “An Account of the principal Customs and Habits of the
      Natives inhabiting the Bondei Country,” _Journal of the
      Anthropological Institute_, xxv. (1896) p. 189.

  657 E. Torday et T. A. Joyce, _Les Bushongo_ (Brussels, 1910), pp.
      82-85. As for the title “God on Earth,” applied to the principal
      chief or king, see _id._, p. 53.

 M204 Rites of initiation among the Indians of Virginia: pretence of the
      novices that they have forgotten their former life.

  658 (Beverley’s) _History of Virginia_ (London, 1722), pp. 177 _sq._
      Compare J. Bricknell, _The Natural History of North Carolina_
      (Dublin, 1737), pp. 405 _sq._

 M205 Ritual of death and resurrection at initiation into the secret
      societies of North America. The medicine-bag as an instrument of
      death and resurrection. Ritual of death and resurrection at
      initiation among the Dacotas.

  659 J. Carver, _Travels through the Interior Parts of North America_,
      Third Edition (London, 1781), pp. 271-275. The thing thrown at the
      man and afterwards vomited by him was probably not a bean but a
      small white sea-shell (_Cypraea moneta_). See H. R. Schoolcraft,
      _Indian Tribes of the United States_ (Philadelphia, 1853-1856), iii.
      287; J. G. Kohl, _Kitschi-Gami_ (Bremen, 1859), i. 71; _Seventh
      Annual Report of the Bureau of Ethnology_ (Washington, 1891), pp.
      191, 215; _Fourteenth Annual Report of the Bureau of Ethnology_
      (Washington, 1896), p. 101.

  660 J. Carver, _op. cit._ pp. 277 _sq._; H. R. Schoolcraft, _Indian
      Tribes of the United States_, iii. 287 (as to the Winnebagoes), v.
      430 _sqq._ (as to the Chippeways and Sioux); J. G. Kohl,
      _Kitschi-Gami_, i. 64-70 (as to the Ojebways). For a very detailed
      account of the Ojebway ceremonies, see W. J. Hoffman, “The Midewiwin
      or Grand Medicine Society of the Ojibwa,” _Seventh Annual Report of
      the Bureau of Ethnology_ (Washington, 1891), especially pp. 215
      _sq._, 234 _sq._, 248, 265. For similar ceremonies among the
      Menomini, see _id._, “The Menomini Indians,” _Fourteenth Annual
      Report of the Bureau of Ethnology_ (Washington, 1896), pp. 99-102;
      and among the Omahas, see J. Owen Dorsey, “Omaha Sociology,” _Third
      Annual Report of the Bureau of Ethnology_ (Washington, 1884), pp.
      342-346. I have dealt more fully with the ritual in _Totemism and
      Exogamy_, iii. 462 _sqq._ Compare also P. Radin, “Ritual and
      Significance of the Winnebago Medicine Dance,” _Journal of American
      Folk-lore_, xxiv. (1911) pp. 149-208.

  661 G. H. Pond, “Dakota superstitions,” _Collections of the Minnesota
      Historical Society for the year 1867_ (Saint Paul, 1867), pp. 35,
      37-40. A similar but abridged account of the Dakota tradition and
      usage is given by S. R. Riggs in his _Dakota Grammar, Texts, and
      Ethnography_ (Washington, 1893), pp. 227-229 (_Contributions to
      North American Ethnology_, vol. ix.).

 M206 Ritual of mimic death among the Indians of Nootka Sound.

_  662 Narrative of the Adventures and Sufferings of John R. Jewitt_
      (Middletown, 1820), p. 119.

_  663 Id._, p. 44. For the age of the prince, see _id._, p. 35.

  664 H. J. Holmberg, “Ueber die Völker des russischen Amerika,” _Acta
      Societatis Scientiarum Fennicae_, iv. (Helsingfors, 1856) pp. 292
      _sqq._, 328; Ivan Petroff, _Report on the Population, Industries and
      Resources of Alaska_, pp. 165 _sq._; A. Krause, _Die
      Tlinkit-Indianer_ (Jena, 1885), p. 112; R. C. Mayne, _Four Years in
      British Columbia and Vancouver Island_ (London, 1862), pp. 257
      _sq._, 268; _Totemism and Exogamy_, iii. 264 _sqq._

 M207 Rite of death and resurrection at initiation into the Nootka society
      of human wolves. Novice brought back by an artificial totemic animal
      among the Niska Indians.

  665 Fr. Boas, in _Sixth Report on the North-Western Tribes of Canada_,
      pp. 47 _sq._ (separate reprint from the _Report of the British
      Association_, Leeds meeting, 1890); _id._, “The Social Organization
      and the Secret Societies of the Kwakiutl Indians,” _Report of the
      United States National Museum for 1895_; (Washington, 1897), pp. 632
      _sq._ But while the initiation described in the text was into a wolf
      society, not into a wolf clan, it is to be observed that the wolf is
      one of the regular totems of the Nootka Indians. See Fr. Boas, in
      _Sixth Report on the North-Western Tribes of Canada_, p. 32.

  666 Fr. Boas, in _Tenth Report on the North-Western Tribes of Canada_,
      pp. 49 _sq._, 58 _sq._ (separate reprint from the _Report of the
      British Association_, Ipswich meeting, 1895). It is remarkable,
      however, that in this tribe persons who are being initiated into the
      secret societies, of which there are six, are not always or even
      generally brought back by an artificial animal which represents
      their own totem. Thus while men of the eagle totem are brought back
      by an eagle which rises from underground, men of the bear clan
      return on the back of an artificial killer-whale which is towed
      across the river by ropes. Again, members of the wolf clan are
      brought back by an artificial bear, and members of the raven clan by
      a frog. In former times the appearance of the artificial totem
      animal, or of the guardian spirit, was considered a matter of great
      importance, and any failure which disclosed the deception to the
      uninitiated was deemed a grave misfortune which could only be atoned
      for by the death of the persons concerned in the disclosure.

 M208 In these initiatory rites the novice seems to be killed as a man and
      restored to life as an animal.

  667 See above, p. 213.

  668 This is the opinion of Dr. F. Boas, who writes: “The close
      similarity between the clan legends and those of the acquisition of
      spirits presiding over secret societies, as well as the intimate
      relation between these and the social organizations of the tribes,
      allow us to apply the same argument to the consideration of the
      growth of the secret societies, and lead us to the conclusion that
      the same psychical factor that molded the clans into their present
      shape molded the secret societies” (“The Social Organization and the
      Secret Societies of the Kwakiutl Indians,” _Report of the United
      States National Museum for 1895_, p. 662). Dr. Boas would see in the
      acquisition of a _manitoo_ or personal totem the origin both of the
      secret societies and of the totem clans; for according to him the
      totem of the clan is merely the _manitoo_ or personal totem of the
      ancestor transmitted by inheritance to his descendants. As to
      personal totems or guardian spirits (_manitoos_) among the North
      American Indians, see _Totemism and Exogamy_, iii. 370 _sqq._; as to
      their secret societies, see _id._, iii. 457 _sqq._; as to the theory
      that clan totems originated in personal or individual totems, see
      _id._, iv. 48 _sqq._

 M209 Honorific totems among the Carrier Indians. Initiatory rites at the
      adoption of a honorific totem. Simulated transformation of a novice
      into a bear. Pretence of death and resurrection at initiation.

  669 A. G. Morice, “Notes, archaeological, industrial, and sociological,
      on the Western Dénés,” _Transactions of the Canadian Institute_, iv.
      (1892-93) pp. 203-206. The honorific totems of the Carrier Indians
      may perhaps correspond in some measure to the sub-totems or
      multiplex totems of the Australians. As to these latter see
      _Totemism and Exogamy_, i. 78 _sqq._, 133 _sqq._

 M210 Significance of these initiatory rites. Supposed invulnerability of
      men who have weapons for their guardian spirits.

  670 See above, pp. 153 _sq._

  671 James Teit, _The Thompson Indians of British Columbia_, p. 357 (_The
      Jesup North Pacific Expedition, Memoir of the American Museum of
      Natural History_, April, 1900). Among the Shuswap of British
      Columbia, when a young man has obtained his personal totem or
      guardian spirit, he is supposed to become proof against bullets and
      arrows (Fr. Boas, in _Sixth Report of the Committee on the
      North-Western Tribes of Canada_, p. 93, separate reprint from the
      _Report of the British Association_, Leeds meeting, 1890).

 M211 Initiatory rite of the Toukaway Indians.

  672 H. R. Schoolcraft, _Indian Tribes of the United States_
      (Philadelphia, 1853-1856), v. 683. In a letter dated 16th Dec. 1887,
      Mr. A. S. Gatschet, formerly of the Bureau of Ethnology, Washington,
      wrote to me: “Among the Toukawe whom in 1884 I found at Fort Griffin
      [?], Texas, I noticed that they never kill the big or grey wolf,
      _hatchukunän_, which has a mythological signification, ‘holding the
      earth’ (_hatch_). He forms one of their totem clans, and they have
      had a dance in his honor, danced by the males only, who carried
      sticks.”

 M212 Traces of the rite of death and resurrection among more advanced
      peoples.

_  673 The Laws of Manu_, ii. 169, translated by G. Bühler (Oxford, 1886),
      p. 61 (_The Sacred Books of the East_, vol. xxv.); J. A. Dubois,
      _Mœurs, Institutions et Cérémonies des Peuples de l’Inde_ (Paris,
      1825), i. 125; Monier Williams, _Religious Thought and Life in
      India_ (London, 1883), pp. 360 _sq._, 396 _sq._; H. Oldenberg, _Die
      Religion des Veda_ (Berlin, 1894), pp. 466 _sqq._

  674 Lampridius, _Commodus_, 9; C. W. King, _The Gnostics and their
      Remains_, Second Edition (London, 1887), pp. 127, 129. Compare Fr.
      Cumont, _Textes et Monuments figurés relatifs aux mystères de
      Mithra_, i. (Brussels, 1899) pp. 69 _sq._, 321 _sq._; E. Rohde,
      _Psyche_3 (Tübingen and Leipsic, 1903), ii. 400 n. 1; A. Dieterich,
      _Eine Mithrasliturgie_ (Leipsic, 1903), pp. 91, 157 _sqq._

 M213 The motive for attempting to deposit the soul in a safe place
      outside of the body at puberty may have been a fear of the dangers
      which, according to primitive notions, attend the union of the
      sexes.
 M214 Balder’s life or death in the mistletoe.

  675 Above, p. 110; compare pp. 107, 120 _sq._, 132, 133.

  676 Above, p. 120.

  677 Above, p. 106.

  678 Above, p. 145. In the myth the throwing of the weapons and of the
      mistletoe at Balder and the blindness of Hother who slew him remind
      us of the custom of the Irish reapers who kill the corn-spirit in
      the last sheaf by throwing their sickles blindfold at it. See
      _Spirits of the Corn and of the Wild_, i. 144. In Mecklenburg a cock
      is sometimes buried in the ground and a man who is blindfolded
      strikes at it with a flail. If he misses it, another tries, and so
      on till the cock is killed. See K. Bartsch, _Sagen, Märchen und
      Gebräuche aus Mecklenburg_ (Vienna, 1879-1880), ii. 280. In England
      on Shrove Tuesday a hen used to be tied upon a man’s back, and other
      men blindfolded struck at it with branches till they killed it. See
      T. F. Thiselton Dyer, _British Popular Customs_ (London, 1876), p.
      68. W. Mannhardt (_Die Korndämonen_, Berlin, 1868, pp. 16 _sq._) has
      made it probable that such sports are directly derived from the
      custom of killing a cock upon the harvest-field as a representative
      of the corn-spirit. See _Spirits of the Corn and of the Wild_, i.
      277 _sq._ These customs, therefore, combined with the blindness of
      Hother in the myth, suggest that the man who killed the human
      representative of the oak-spirit was blindfolded, and threw his
      weapon or the mistletoe from a little distance. After the Lapps had
      killed a bear—which was the occasion of many superstitious
      ceremonies—the bear’s skin was hung on a post, and the women,
      blindfolded, shot arrows at it. See J. Scheffer, _Lapponia_
      (Frankfort, 1673), p. 240.

 M215 The view that the mistletoe contained the life of the oak may have
      been suggested by the position of the parasite among the boughs.
      Indian parallel to Balder and the mistletoe.

  679 Pliny, _Nat. Hist._ xxiv. 12; J. Grimm, _Deutsche Mythologie_,4 ii.
      1010. Compare below, p. 282.

_  680 The Satapatha Brahmana_, xii. 7. 3. 1-3, translated by J. Eggeling,
      Part v. (Oxford, 1900) pp. 222 _sq._ (_The Sacred Books of the
      East_, vol. xliv.); Denham Rouse, in _Folk-lore Journal_, vii.
      (1889) p. 61, quoting _Taittīrya Brāhmana_, I. vii. 1.

  681 Col. E. T. Dalton, “The Kols of Chota-Nagpore,” _Transactions of the
      Ethnological Society_, N.S. vi. (1868) p. 36.

 M216 Analogous superstitions attaching to a parasitic rowan.

  682 Jens Kamp, _Danske Folkeminder_ (Odense, 1877), pp. 172, 65 _sq._,
      referred to in Feilberg’s _Bidrag til en Ordbog over Jyske
      Almuesmål_, Fjerde hefte (Copenhagen, 1888), p. 320. For a sight of
      Feilberg’s work I am indebted to the kindness of the late Rev.
      Walter Gregor, M.A., of Pitsligo, who pointed out the passage to me.

  683 E. T. Kristensen, _Iydske Folkeminder_, vi. 380, referred to by
      Feilberg, _l.c._ According to Marcellus (_De Medicamentis_, xxvi.
      115), ivy which springs from an oak is a remedy for stone, provided
      it be cut with a copper instrument.

  684 A. Kuhn, _Die Herabkunft des Feuers und des Göttertranks_2
      (Gütersloh, 1886), pp. 175 _sq._, quoting Dybeck’s _Runa_, 1845, pp.
      62 _sq._

  685 A. Kuhn, _op. cit._ p. 176.

  686 Quoted by A. Kuhn, _op. cit._ pp. 180 _sq._ In Zimbales, a province
      of the Philippine Islands, “a certain parasitic plant that much
      resembles yellow moss and grows high up on trees is regarded as a
      very powerful charm. It is called _gay-u-ma_, and a man who
      possesses it is called _nanara gayuma_. If his eyes rest on a person
      during the new moon he will become sick at the stomach, but he can
      cure the sickness by laying hands on the afflicted part.” See W. A.
      Reed, _Negritos of Zambales_ (Manilla, 1904), p. 67 (_Department of
      the Interior, Ethnological Survey Publications_, vol. ii. part i.).
      Mr. Reed seems to mean that if a man who possesses this parasitic
      plant sees a person at the new moon, the person on whom his eye
      falls will be sick in his stomach, but that the owner of the
      parasite can cure the sufferer by laying his (the owner’s) hands on
      his (the patient’s) stomach. It is interesting to observe that the
      magical virtue of the parasitic plant appears to be especially
      effective at the new moon.

  687 A. Wuttke, _Der deutsche Volksaberglaube_2 (Berlin, 1869), p. 97 §
      128; L. Lloyd, _Peasant Life in Sweden_ (London, 1870), p. 269. See
      above, p. 86.

 M217 The fate of the Hays believed to be bound up with the mistletoe on
      Errol’s oak.

  688 John Hay Allan, _The Bridal of Caölchairn_ (London, 1822), pp. 337
      _sq._

  689 Rev. John B. Pratt, _Buchan_, Second Edition (Aberdeen, Edinburgh,
      and London, 1859), p. 342. “_The corbie roup_” means “the raven
      croak.” In former editions of this work my only source of
      information as to the mistletoe and oak of the Hays was an extract
      from a newspaper which was kindly copied and sent to me, without the
      name of the newspaper, by the late Rev. Walter Gregor, M.A., of
      Pitsligo. For my acquaintance with the works of J. H. Allan and J.
      B. Pratt I am indebted to the researches of my learned friend Mr. A.
      B. Cook, who has already quoted them in his article “The European
      Sky-God,” _Folk-lore_, xvii. (1906) pp. 318 _sq._

 M218 The life of the Lachlins and the deer of Finchra.

  690 M. Martin, “Description of the Western Islands of Scotland,” in J.
      Pinkerton’s _Voyages and Travels_ (London, 1808-1814), iii. 661.

 M219 The Golden Bough seems to have been a glorified mistletoe.

  691 See James Sowerby, _English Botany_, xxi. (London, 1805), p. 1470:
      “The Misseltoe is celebrated in story as the sacred plant of the
      Druids, and the Golden Bough of Virgil, which was Aeneas’s passport
      to the infernal regions.” Again, the author of the _Lexicon
      Mythologicum_ concludes, “_cum Jonghio nostro_,” that the Golden
      Bough “was nothing but the mistletoe glorified by poetical license.”
      See _Edda Rhythmica seu Antiquior, vulgo Saemundina dicta_, iii.
      (Copenhagen, 1828) p. 513 note. C. L. Rochholz expresses the same
      opinion (_Deutscher Glaube und Brauch_, Berlin, 1867, i. 9). The
      subject is discussed at length by E. Norden, _P. Vergilius Maro,
      Aeneis Buch VI._ (Leipsic, 1903) pp. 161-171, who, however, does not
      even mention the general or popular view (_publica opinio_) current
      in the time of Servius, that the Golden Bough was the branch which a
      candidate for the priesthood of Diana had to pluck in the sacred
      grove of Nemi. I confess I have more respect for the general opinion
      of antiquity than to dismiss it thus cavalierly without a hearing.

  692 Virgil, _Aen._ vi. 203 _sqq._, compare 136 _sqq._ See Note IV. “The
      Mistletoe and the Golden Bough” at the end of this volume.

 M220 If the Golden Bough was the mistletoe, the King of the Wood at Nemi
      may have personated an oak spirit and perished in an oak fire.

_  693 The Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings_, i. 40 _sqq._, ii. 378
      _sqq._ Virgil (_Aen._ vi. 201 _sqq._) places the Golden Bough in the
      neighbourhood of Lake Avernus. But this was probably a poetical
      liberty, adopted for the convenience of Aeneas’s descent to the
      infernal world. Italian tradition, as we learn from Servius (on
      Virgil, _Aen._ vi. 136), placed the Golden Bough in the grove at
      Nemi.

_  694 The Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings_, i. 12.

_  695 The Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings_, ii. 186, 366 note 2.

 M221 A similar tragedy may have been enacted over the human
      representative of Balder in Norway.

  696 A custom of annually burning or otherwise sacrificing a human
      representative of the corn-spirit has been noted among the
      Egyptians, Pawnees, and Khonds. See _Spirits of the Corn and of the
      Wild_, i. 238 _sq._, 245 _sqq._, 259 _sq._ We have seen that in
      Western Asia there are strong traces of a practice of annually
      burning a human god. See _Adonis, Attis, Osiris_, Second Edition,
      pp. 84 _sqq._, 98 _sq._, 137 _sq._, 139 _sqq._, 155 _sq._ The Druids
      appear to have eaten portions of the human victim (Pliny, _Nat.
      Hist._ xxx. 13). Perhaps portions of the flesh of the King of the
      Wood were eaten by his worshippers as a sacrament. We have found
      traces of the use of sacramental bread at Nemi. See _Spirits of the
      Corn and of the Wild_, ii. 94 _sqq._

 M222 The name of the Golden Bough may have been applied to the mistletoe
      on account of the golden tinge which the plant assumes in withering.

  697 It has been said that in Welsh a name for mistletoe is “the tree of
      pure gold” (_pren puraur_). See J. Grimm, _Deutsche Mythologie_,4
      ii. 1009, referring to Davies. But my friend Sir John Rhys tells me
      that the statement is devoid of foundation.

  698 Virgil, _Aen._ vi. 137 _sq._:—

      “_Latet arbore opaca_
      _ Aureus et foliis et lento vimine ramus._”

  699 This suggestion as to the origin of the name has been made to me by
      two correspondents independently. Miss Florence Grove, writing to me
      from 10 Milton Chambers, Cheyne Walk, London, on May 13th, 1901,
      tells me that she regularly hangs up a bough of mistletoe every year
      and allows it to remain till it is replaced by the new branch next
      year, and from her observation “the mistletoe is actually a golden
      bough when kept a sufficiently long time.” She was kind enough to
      send me some twigs of her old bough, which fully bore out her
      description. Again, Mrs. A. Stuart writes to me from Crear Cottage,
      Morningside Drive, Edinburgh, on June 26th, 1901: “As to why the
      mistletoe might be called the Golden Bough, my sister Miss Haig
      wishes me to tell you that last June, when she was in Brittany, she
      saw great bunches of mistletoe hung up in front of the houses in the
      villages. The leaves were _bright golden_. You should hang up a
      branch next Christmas and keep it till June!” The great hollow oak
      of Saint-Denis-des-Puits, in the French province of Perche, is
      called “the gilded or golden oak” (_Chêne-Doré_) “in memory of the
      Druidical tradition of the mistletoe cut with a golden sickle.” See
      Felix Chapiseau, _Le Folk-lore de la Beauce et du Perche_ (Paris,
      1902), i. 97. Perhaps the name may be derived from bunches of
      withered mistletoe shining like gold in the sunshine among the
      branches.

  700 H. Gaidoz, “Bulletin critique de la Mythologie Gauloise,” _Revue de
      l’Histoire des Religions_, ii. (Paris, 1880) p. 76.

 M223 The yellow hue of withered mistletoe may partly explain why the
      plant is thought to disclose yellow gold in the earth. Similarly
      fern-seed is thought to bloom like gold or fire and to reveal buried
      treasures on Midsummer Eve. Sometimes fern-seed is thought to bloom
      on Christmas night. The wicked weaver of Rotenburg.

  701 See below, pp. 291 _sq._

  702 See above, pp. 65 _sq._

  703 J. V. Grohmann, _Aberglauben und Gebräuche aus Böhmen und Mähren_
      (Prague and Leipsic, 1864), p. 97, § 673.

  704 J. V. Grohmann, _op. cit._ p. 97, § 676; A. Wuttke, _Der deutsche
      Volksaberglaube_2 (Berlin, 1869), p. 94, § 123; I. V. Zingerle,
      _Sitten, Bräuche und Meinungen des Tiroler Volkes_2 (Innsbruck,
      1871), p. 158, § 1350.

  705 C. Russwurm, “Aberglaube in Russland,” _Zeitschrift für deutsche
      Mythologie und Sittenkunde_, iv. (1859), pp. 152 _sq._; Angelo de
      Gubernatis, _Mythologie des Plantes_ (Paris, 1878-1882), ii. 146.

  706 P. Sébillot, _Traditions et Superstitions de la Haute-Bretagne_
      (Paris, 1882), ii. 336; _id._, _Coutumes populaires de la
      Haute-Bretagne_ (Paris, 1886), p. 217.

  707 J. E. Waldfreund, “Volksgebräuche und Aberglauben in Tirol und dem
      Salzburger Gebirg,” _Zeitschrift für deutsche Mythologie und
      Sittenkunde_, iii. (1855), p. 339.

  708 H. Runge, “Volksglaube in der Schweiz,” _Zeitschrift für deutsche
      Mythologie und Sittenkunde_, iv. (1859), p. 175.

  709 O. Frh. von Reinsberg-Düringsfeld, _Fest-Kalendar aus Böhmen_
      (Prague, N.D.), pp. 311 _sq._ Compare Theodor Vernaleken, _Mythen
      und Bräuche des Volkes in Oesterreich_ (Vienna, 1859), pp. 309
      _sq._; M. Töppen, _Aberglauben aus Masuren_2 (Danzig, 1867), pp. 72
      _sq._ Even without the use of fern-seed treasures are sometimes said
      to bloom or burn in the earth, or to reveal their presence by a
      bluish flame, on Midsummer Eve; in Transylvania only children born
      on a Sunday can see them and fetch them up. See J. Haltrich, _Zur
      Volkskunde der Siebenbürger Sachsen_ (Vienna, 1885), p. 287; I. V.
      Zingerle, _Sitten, Bräuche und Meinungen des Tiroler Volkes_2
      (Innsbruck, 1871), p. 159, §§ 1351, 1352; K. Bartsch, _Sagen,
      Märchen und Gebrauche aus Mecklenburg_ (Vienna, 1879-1880), ii. 285,
      § 1431; E. Monseur, _Folklore Wallon_ (Brussels, N.D.), p. 6, §
      1789; K. Haupt, _Sagenbuch der Lausitz_ (Leipsic, 1862-1863), i. 231
      _sq._, No. 275; A. Wuttke, _Der deutsche Volksaberglaube_2 (Berlin,
      1869), p. 76, § 92; F. J. Wiedemann, _Aus dem inneren und äusseren
      Leben der Ehsten_ (St. Petersburg, 1876), p. 363.

  710 I. V. Zingerle, _op. cit._ p. 103, § 882; _id._, in _Zeitschrift für
      deutsche Mythologie und Sittenkunde_, i. (1853), p. 330; W. Müller,
      _Beiträge zur Volkskunde der Deutschen in Mähren_ (Vienna and
      Olmütz, 1893), p. 265. At Pergine, in the Tyrol, it was thought that
      fern-seed gathered with the dew on St. John’s night had the power of
      transforming metals (into gold?). See Ch. Schneller, _Märchen und
      Sagen aus Wälschtirol_ (Innsbruck, 1867), p. 237, § 23.

  711 I. V. Zingerle, _Sitten, Bräuche und Meinungen des Tiroler Volkes_,2
      pp. 190 _sq._, § 1573.

  712 A. Schlossar, “Volksmeinung und Volksaberglaube aus der deutschen
      Steiermark,” _Germania_, N.R., xxiv. (1891) p. 387.

  713 Ernst Meier, _Deutsche Sagen, Sitten und Gebräuche aus Schwaben_
      (Stuttgart, 1852), pp. 242-244.

 M224 The golden or fiery fern-seed appears to be an emanation of the
      sun’s fire.

  714 J. V. Grohmann, _Aberglauben und Gebräuche aus Böhmen und Mähren_,
      p. 97, § 675; W. R. S. Ralston, _Songs of the Russian People_,
      Second Edition (London, 1872), p. 98; C. Russwurm, “Aberglaube in
      Russland,” _Zeitschrift für deutsche Mythologie und Sittenkunde_,
      iv. (1859) p. 152.

  715 L. Bechstein, _Deutsches Sagenbuch_ (Leipsic, 1853), p. 430, No.
      500; _id._, _Thüringer Sagenbuch_ (Leipsic, 1885), ii. pp. 17 _sq._,
      No. 161.

 M225 Like fern-seed the mistletoe is gathered at the solstices (Midsummer
      and Christmas) and is supposed to reveal treasures in the earth;
      perhaps, therefore, it too is deemed an emanation of the sun’s
      golden fire. The bloom of the oak on Midsummer Eve.

  716 For gathering it at midsummer, see above, pp. 86 _sq._ The custom of
      gathering it at Christmas still commonly survives in England. At
      York “on the eve of Christmas-day they carry mistletoe to the high
      altar of the cathedral, and proclaim a public and universal liberty,
      pardon and freedom to all sorts of inferior and even wicked people
      at the gates of the city, toward the four quarters of heaven.” See
      W. Stukeley, _The Medallic History of Marcus Aurelius Valerius
      Carausius, Emperor in Britain_ (London, 1757-1759), ii. 164; J.
      Brand, _Popular Antiquities of Great Britain_ (London, 1882-1883),
      i. 525. This last custom, which is now doubtless obsolete, may have
      been a relic of an annual period of license like the Saturnalia. The
      traditional privilege accorded to men of kissing any woman found
      under mistletoe is probably another relic of the same sort. See
      Washington Irving, _Sketch-Book_, “Christmas Eve,” p. 147 (Bohn’s
      edition); Marie Trevelyan, _Folk-lore and Folk-stories of Wales_
      (London, 1909), p. 88.

  717 A. A. Afzelius, _Volkssagen und Volkslieder aus Schwedens älterer
      und neuerer Zeit_ (Leipsic, 1842), i. 41 _sq._; J. Grimm, _Deutsche
      Mythologie_,4 iii. 289; L. Lloyd, _Peasant Life in Sweden_ (London,
      1870), pp. 266 _sq._ See above, p. 69. In the Tyrol they say that if
      mistletoe grows on a hazel-tree, there must be a treasure under the
      tree. See J. N. Ritter von Alpenburg, _Mythen und Sagen Tirols_
      (Zurich, 1857), p. 398. In East Prussia a similar belief is held in
      regard to mistletoe that grows on a thorn. See C. Lemke,
      _Volksthümliches in Ostpreussen_ (Mohrungen, 1884-1887), ii. 283. We
      have seen that the divining-rod which reveals treasures is commonly
      cut from a hazel (above, pp. 67 _sq._).

  718 Above, pp. 90-92.

  719 Fern-seed is supposed to bloom at Easter as well as at Midsummer and
      Christmas (W. R. S. Ralston, _Songs of the Russian People_, pp. 98
      _sq._); and Easter, as we have seen, is one of the times when fires
      are ceremonially kindled, perhaps to recruit the fire of the sun.

  720 Miss C. S. Burne and Miss G. F. Jackson, _Shropshire Folk-lore_
      (London, 1883), p. 242.

  721 Marie Trevelyan, _Folk-lore and Folk-stories of Wales_ (London,
      1909), p. 88.

  722 Pliny, _Nat. Hist._ xvi. 251.

  723 Above, pp. 82 _sq._

  724 Pliny, _Nat. Hist._ xxxiii. 94: “_Calx aqua accenditur et Thracius
      lapis, idem oleo restinguitur, ignis autem aceto maxime et visco et
      ovo._”

  725 See above, p. 85.

 M226 Aeneas and the Golden Bough. Orpheus and the willow.

  726 Virgil, _Aen._ vi. 179-209.

  727 Virgil, _Aen._ vi. 384-416.

  728 Above, pp. 86, 282.

  729 Above, p. 85.

  730 Pausanias, x. 30. 6.

  731 J. Six, “Die Eriphyle des Polygnot,” _Mittheilungen des kaiserlich
      deutschen Archaeologischen Instituts, Athenische Abtheilung_, xix.
      (1894) pp. 338 _sq._ Compare my commentary on Pausanias, vol. v. p.
      385.

  732 The sarcophagus is in the Lateran Museum at Rome. See W. Helbig,
      _Führer durch die öffentlichen Sammlungen Klassischer Altertümer in
      Rom_2 (Leipsic, 1899), ii. 468.

 M227 Trees thought by the savage to be the seat of fire because he
      elicits it by friction from their wood.

  733 See _The Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings_, i. 19 _sqq._

_  734 Die Edda_, übersetzt von K. Simrock8 (Stuttgart, 1882), p. 264.

  735 S. Powers, _Tribes of California_ (Washington, 1877), p. 171.

  736 S. Powers, _Tribes of California_, p. 287.

  737 Max Girschner, “Die Karolineninsel Namöluk und ihre Bewohner,”
      _Baessler-Archiv_, ii. (1912) p. 141.

  738 A. A. Macdonell, _Vedic Mythology_ (Strasburg, 1897), pp. 91 _sq._,
      referring to _Rigveda_, vi. 3. 3, x. 79. 7, ii. 1. 14, iii. 1. 13,
      x. 1. 2, viii. 43. 9, i. 70. 4, ii. 1. 1. Compare H. Oldenberg, _Die
      Religion des Veda_ (Berlin, 1894), pp. 120 _sq._

  739 Edward M. Curr, _The Australian Race_ (Melbourne and London,
      1886-1887), i. 9, 18.

 M228 Trees that have been struck by lightning are deemed by the savage to
      be charged with a double portion of fire.

  740 James Mooney, “Myths of the Cherokee,” _Nineteenth Annual Report of
      the Bureau of American Ethnology_, Part i. (Washington, 1900) p.
      422, compare p. 435.

  741 James Teit, _The Thompson Indians of British Columbia_, p. 346 (_The
      Jesup North Pacific Expedition, Memoir of the American Museum of
      Natural History_, April, 1900).

  742 J. Teit, _op. cit._ p. 374.

  743 The Shuswap Indians of British Columbia entertain a similar belief.
      It has been suggested that the fancy may be based on the observation
      that cold follows a thunder-storm. See G. M. Dawson, “Notes on the
      Shuswap people of British Columbia,” _Transactions of the Royal
      Society of Canada_, ix. (1891) Section ii. p. 38.

  744 R. Wuttke, _Sächsische Volkskunde_2 (Dresden, 1901), p. 369.

  745 Henri A. Junod, _The Life of a South African Tribe_ (Neuchatel,
      1912-1913), ii. 291. The Thonga imagine that lightning is caused by
      a great bird, which sometimes buries itself in the ground to a depth
      of several feet. See H. A. Junod, _op. cit._ ii. 290 _sq._

  746 Dr. James A. Chisholm (of the Livingstonia Mission, Mwenzo, N.E.
      Rhodesia), “Notes on the Manners and Customs of the Winamwanga and
      Wiwa,” _Journal of the African Society_, No. 36 (July, 1910), p.
      363.

  747 S. Powers, _Tribes of California_ (Washington, 1877), p. 287. The
      dread of lightning is prominent in some of the customs observed in
      Patiko, a district of the Uganda Protectorate. If a village has
      suffered from lightning, ropes made of twisted grass are strung from
      peak to peak of the houses to ward off further strokes. And if a
      person has been struck or badly shaken, “an elaborate cure is
      performed upon him. A red cock is taken, his tongue torn out, and
      his body dashed upon the house where the stroke fell. Then the scene
      changes to the bank of a small running stream, where the patient is
      made to kneel while the bird is sacrificed over the water. A raw egg
      is next given to the patient to swallow, and he is laid on his
      stomach and encouraged to vomit. The lightning is supposed to be
      vomited along with the egg, and all ill effects prevented.” See Rev.
      A. L. Kitching, _On the Backwaters of the Nile_ (London, 1912), p.
      263.

 M229 Theory that the sanctity of the oak and the relation of the tree to
      the sky-god were suggested by the frequency with which oaks are
      struck by lightning.

  748 See _The Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings_, ii. 349 _sqq._

  749 W. Warde Fowler, “The Oak and the Thunder-god,” _Archiv für
      Religionswissenschaft_, xvi. (1913) pp. 318 _sq._ My friend Mr.
      Warde Fowler had previously called my attention to the facts in a
      letter dated September 17th, 1912.

  750 Dr. W. Schlich’s _Manual of Forestry_, vol. iv. _Forest Protection_,
      by W. R. Fisher, Second Edition (London, 1907), pp. 662 _sq._ Mr. W.
      Warde Fowler was the first to call the attention of mythologists to
      this work.

  751 Experiments on the conductivity of electricity in wood go to shew
      that starchy trees (oak, poplar, maples, ash, elm, _sorbus_) are
      good conductors, that oily trees (beech, walnut, birch, lime) are
      bad conductors, and that the conifers are intermediate, the Scotch
      pine in summer being as deficient in oil as the starchy trees, but
      rich in oil during winter. It was found that a single turn of Holz’s
      electric machine sufficed to send the spark through oakwood, but
      that from twelve to twenty turns were required to send it through
      beech-wood. Five turns of the machine were needed to send the spark
      through poplar and willow wood. See Dr. W. Schlich, _Manual of
      Forestry_, vol. iv. _Forest Protection_, Second Edition (London,
      1907), p. 664. In the tropics lightning is said to be especially
      attracted to coco-nut palms. See P. Amaury Talbot, _In the Shadow of
      the Bush_ (London, 1913), p. 73.

  752 As to the Greek belief and custom, see H. Usener, _Kleine
      Schriften_, iv. (Leipsic and Berlin, 1913), “Keraunos,” pp. 471
      _sqq._; _The Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings_, ii. 361. As to
      the Roman belief and custom, see Festus, _svv._ _Fulguritum and
      Provorsum fulgur_, pp. 92, 229, ed. C. O. Müller (Leipsic, 1839); H.
      Dessau, _Inscriptiones Latinae Selectae_, vol. ii. pars i. (Berlin,
      1902) pp. 10 _sq._, Nos. 3048-3056; L. Preller, _Römische
      Mythologie_3 (Berlin, 1881-1883), i. 190-193; G. Wissowa, _Religion
      und Kultus der Römer_2 (Munich, 1912), pp. 121 _sq._ By a curious
      refinement the Romans referred lightning which fell by day to
      Jupiter, but lightning which fell by night to a god called Summanus
      (Festus, p. 229).

 M230 This explanation of the Aryan worship of the oak is preferable to
      the one formerly adopted by the author.

  753 J. Grimm, _Deutsche Mythologie_,4 iii. 64, citing a statement that
      lightning strikes twenty oaks for one beech. The statistics adduced
      by Mr. W. Warde Fowler seem to shew that this statement is no
      exaggeration but rather the contrary.

  754 W. Warde Fowler, “The Oak and the Thunder-god,” _Archiv für
      Religionswissenschaft_, xvi. (1913) pp. 317-320.

_  755 The Magic Art and the Evolution of Kings_, ii. 356 _sqq._

  756 The suggestion is Mr. W. Warde Fowler’s (_op cit._ pp. 319 _sq._).

 M231 The sacredness of mistletoe was perhaps due to a belief that the
      plant fell on the tree in a flash of lightning.

  757 Pliny, _Natur. Hist._ xvi. 249.

  758 See above, p. 85.

  759 J. Grimm, _Deutsche Mythologie_,4 i. 153. See above, p. 85.

 M232 Hence the stroke of mistletoe that killed Balder may have been a
      stroke of lightning.

  760 This interpretation of Balder’s death was anticipated by W. Schwartz
      (_Der Ursprung der Mythologie_, Berlin, 1860, p. 176), who cut the
      whole knot by dubbing Balder “the German thunder-and-lightning god”
      and mistletoe “the wonderful thunder-and-lightning flower.” But as
      this learned writer nursed a fatal passion for thunder and
      lightning, which he detected lurking in the most unlikely places, we
      need not wonder that he occasionally found it in places where there
      were some slight grounds for thinking that it really existed.

 M233 The King of the Wood and the Golden Bough.

  761 On the relation of the priest to Jupiter, and the equivalence of
      Jupiter and Juno to Janus (Dianus) and Diana, see _The Magic Art and
      the Evolution of Kings_, ii. 376 _sqq._

 M234 Looking back at the end of the journey.
 M235 The movement of human thought in the past from magic to religion.
 M236 The movement of thought from religion to science.
 M237 Contrast between the views of natural order postulated by magic and
      by science respectively.
 M238 The scientific theory of the world not necessarily final.
 M239 The shadow across the path.

  762 “I quite agree how humiliating the slow progress of man is, but
      every one has his own pet horror, and this slow progress or even
      personal annihilation sinks in my mind into insignificance compared
      with the idea or rather I presume certainty of the sun some day
      cooling and we all freezing. To think of the progress of millions of
      years, with every continent swarming with good and enlightened men,
      all ending in this, and with probably no fresh start until this our
      planetary system has been again converted into red-hot gas. _Sic
      transit gloria mundi_, with a vengeance” (_More Letters of Charles
      Darwin_, edited by Francis Darwin, London, 1903, i. 260 _sq._).

  763 Since this passage was written the hope which it expresses has been
      to some extent strengthened by the discovery of radium, which
      appears to prolong indefinitely the prospect of the duration of the
      sun’s heat, and with it the duration of life on its attendant
      planets. See (Sir) George Howard Darwin’s Presidential Address to
      the British Association, _Report of the 75th Meeting of the British
      Association for the Advancement of Science_ (South Africa, 1905),
      pp. 28 _sq._; F. Soddy, _The Interpretation of Radium_, Third
      Edition (London, 1912), pp. 240 _sqq._; E. Rutherford, _Radio-active
      Substances and their Radiations_ (Cambridge, 1913), pp. 653-656. At
      the same time it should be borne in mind that even if the atomic
      disintegration and accompanying liberation of energy, which
      characterize radium and kindred elements, should prove to be common
      in different degrees to all the other elements and to form a vast
      and till lately unsuspected store of heat to the sun, this enormous
      reserve of fuel would only defer but could not avert that final
      catastrophe with which the solar system and indeed the whole
      universe is remorselessly threatened by the law of the dissipation
      of energy.

 M240 The web of thought.
 M241 Nemi at evening: the _Ave Maria_ bell.

  764 See above, vol. i. pp. 15 _sq._

 M242 Snake Stones in the Highlands.

  765 Alexander Carmichael, _Carmina Gadelica, Hymns and Incantations with
      Illustrative Notes on Words, Rites, and Customs, dying and obsolete:
      orally collected in the Highlands and Islands of Scotland and
      translated into English_ (Edinburgh, 1900), ii. 312.

 M243 Witches as cats among the Oraons.

  766 Above, vol. i. pp. 315 _sqq._

  767 The late Rev. P. Dehon, S.J., “Religion and Customs of the Uraons,”
      _Memoirs of the Asiatic Society of Bengal_, vol. i. No. 9 (Calcutta,
      1906), p. 141.

 M244 African parallels to Balder.
 M245 The worshipful ghost in the cave.
 M246 The man who could only be killed by the stalk of a gourd.

  768 “Every clan (_Familienstamm_) has a definite thing which is
      forbidden to all the members of the clan, whether it be a particular
      kind of meat, or a certain fish, or as here the stalk of a gourd.”

  769 “The place in Nguu, where the ghost is said to dwell.”

  770 “In Ukami.”

  771 C. Velten, _Schilderungen der Suaheli_ (Göttingen, 1901), pp.
      195-197.

 M247 The man who could only be killed by a splinter of bamboo.

  772 Miss Alice Werner, _The Natives of British Central Africa_ (London,
      1906), p. 82. In a letter Miss Werner tells me that she learned
      these particulars at Blantyre in 1893, and that the chief lived in
      the neighbourhood of Mlanje.

  773 Rev. Henry Rowley, _Twenty Years in Central Africa_ (London, N.D.),
      pp. 36 _sqq._ For a reference to this and all the other works cited
      in this Note I am indebted to the kindness of Miss Alice Werner.

  774 Rev. David Clement Scott, _A Cyclopaedic Dictionary of the Mang’anja
      Language spoken in British Central Africa_ (Edinburgh, 1892), p.
      315.

 M248 The man who could only be killed by a copper needle.

  775 Edward Steere, _Swahili Tales_ (London, 1870), pp. 441-453. The
      young man in the story is spoken of now as the nephew and now as the
      son of the man he murdered. Probably he was what we should call a
      nephew or brother’s son of his victim; for under the classificatory
      system of relationship, which seems to prevail among the Bantu
      stock, to whom the Swahili belong, a man regularly calls his
      paternal uncle his father.

 M249 These stories confirm the view that Balder may have been a real man
      who was deified after death.

  776 Above, vol. i. pp. 104 _sq._

 M250 Two species of mistletoe, the _Viscum album_ and the _Loranthus
      europaeus_. Common mistletoe (_Viscum album_).

  777 Virgil, Aen. vi. 205 _sqq._:—

      “_Quale solet silvis brumali frigore viscum_
      _ Fronde virere nova, quod non sua seminat arbos,_
      _ Et croceo fetu teretis circumdare truncos:_
      _ Talis erat species auri frondentis opaca_
      _ Ilice, sic leni crepitabat bractea vento._”

  778 W. Schlich, _Manual of Forestry_, vol. iv. _Forest Protection_, by
      W. R. Fisher, M.A., Second Edition (London, 1907), p. 412. French
      peasants about Coulommiers think that mistletoe springs from birds’
      dung. See H. Gaidoz, “Bulletin critique de la Mythologie Gauloise,”
      _Revue de l’Histoire des Religions_, ii. (1880) p. 76. The ancients
      were well aware that mistletoe is propagated from tree to tree by
      seeds which have been voided by birds. See Theophrastus, _De Causis
      Plantarum_, ii. 17. 5; Pliny, _Naturalis Historia_, xvi. 247. Pliny
      tells us that the birds which most commonly deposited the seeds were
      pigeons and thrushes. Can this have been the reason why Virgil
      (_Aen._ vi. 190 _sqq._) represents Aeneas led to the Golden Bough by
      a pair of doves?

  779 James Sowerby, _English Botany_, xxi. (London, 1805) p. 1470.

  780 C. Fraas, _Synopsis Plantarum Florae Classicae_ (Munich, 1845), p.
      152.

  781 H. O. Lenz, _Botanik der alten Griechen und Römer_ (Gotha, 1859), p.
      597, quoting Pollini.

  782 J. Lindley and T. Moore, _The Treasury of Botany_, New Edition
      (London, 1874), ii. 1220. A good authority, however, observes that
      mistletoe is “frequently to be observed on the branches of old
      apple-trees, hawthorns, lime-trees, oaks, etc., where it grows
      parasitically.” See J. Sowerby, _English Botany_, xxi. (London,
      1805) p. 1470.

_  783 Encyclopaedia Britannica_, Ninth Edition, x. 689, _s.v._
      “Gloucester.”

  784 H. Gaidoz, “Bulletin critique de la Mythologie Gauloise,” _Revue de
      l’Histoire des Religions_, ii. (1880) pp. 75 _sq._

  785 Angelo de Gubernatis, _La Mythologie des Plantes_ (Paris,
      1878-1882), ii. 216 _sq._ As to the many curious superstitions that
      have clustered round mandragora, see P. J. Veth, “De Mandragora,”
      _Internationales Archiv für Ethnographie_, vii. (1894) pp. 199-205;
      C. B. Randolph, “The Mandragora of the Ancients in Folk-lore and
      Medicine,” _Proceedings of the American Academy of Arts and
      Sciences_, vol. xl. No. 12 (January, 1905), pp. 487-537.

_ M251 Loranthus europaeus._

  786 W. Schlich, _Manual of Forestry_, vol. iv. _Forest Protection_,
      Second Edition (London, 1907), pp. 415-417.

  787 E. B. Stebbing, “The Loranthus Parasite of the Moru and Ban Oaks,”
      _Journal and Proceedings of the Asiatic Society of Bengal_, New
      Series, v. (Calcutta, 1910) pp. 189-195. The _Loranthus vestitus_
      “is a small branching woody plant with dirty yellowish green leaves
      which are dark shining green above. It grows in great clumps and
      masses on the trees, resembling a giant mistletoe. The fruit is
      yellowish and fleshy, and is almost sessile on the stem, which it
      thickly studs” (_ib._, p. 192). The writer shews that the parasite
      is very destructive to oaks in India.

  788 H. O. Lenz, _Botanik der alten Griechen und Römer_ (Gotha, 1859), p.
      598, notes 151 and 152.

  789 C. Fraas, _Synopsis Plantarum Florae Classicae_ (Munich, 1845), p.
      152.

  790 H. O. Lenz, _Botanik der alten Griechen und Römer_ (Gotha, 1859),
      pp. 599 _sq._

 M252 Both sorts of mistletoe known to the ancients and designated by
      different words.

  791 Theophrastus, _Historia Plantarum_, iii. 7. 5, iii. 16. 1, _De
      Causis Plantarum_, ii. 17; Pliny, _Nat. Hist._ xvi. 245-247. Compare
      Dioscorides, _De materia medica_, ii. 93 (103), vol. i. pp. 442
      _sq._, ed. C. Sprengel (Leipsic, 1829-1830), who uses the form
      _ixos_ instead of _ixia_. Both Dioscorides (_l.c._) and Plutarch
      (_Coriolanus_, 3) affirm that mistletoe (_ixos_) grows on the oak
      (δρῦς); and Hesychius quotes from Sophocles’s play _Meleager_ the
      expression “mistletoe-bearing oaks” (ἰξοφόρους δρύας, Hesychius,
      _s.v._).

 M253 Doubts as to the identification of the ancient names for mistletoe.

  792 Theophrastus, _Opera quae supersunt omnia_, ed. Fr. Wimmer (Paris,
      1866), pp. 537, 545, 546, _s.vv._ ἰξία, στελίς, ὑφέαρ.

  793 F. Fraas, _Synopsis Plantarum Florae Classicae_ (Munich, 1845), p.
      152.

  794 H. O. Lenz, _Botanik der alten Griechen und Römer_ (Gotha, 1859), p.
      597, notes 147 and 148.

  795 Theophrastus, _De Causis Plantarum_, ii. 17. 2, ἐπεὶ τό γε τὴν μὲν
      ἀείφυλλον εἶναι τῶν ἰξιῶν (τὴν δὲ φυλλοβόλον) οὐθὲν ἄτοπον, κἂν ἡ
      μὲν (ἐν) ἀιφύλλοις ἡ δὲ ἐν φυλλοβόλοις ἐμβιῴη.

 M254 Did Virgil compare the Golden Bough to common mistletoe or to
      _Loranthus_? Some enquirers decide in favour of _Loranthus_.

  796 His letter is undated, but the postmark is April 28th, 1889. Sir
      Francis Darwin has since told me that his authority is Kerner von
      Marilaun, _Pflanzenleben_ (1888), vol. i. pp. 195, 196. See Anton
      Kerner von Marilaun, _The Natural History of Plants_, translated and
      edited by F. W. Oliver (London, 1894-1895), i. 204 _sqq._ According
      to this writer “the mistletoe’s favourite tree is certainly the
      Black Poplar (_Populus nigra_). It flourishes with astonishing
      luxuriance on the branches of that tree.... Mistletoe has also been
      found by way of exception upon the oak and the maple, and upon old
      vines” (_op. cit._ i. 205).

  797 Prof. P. J. Veth, “De leer der signatuur, III. De mistel en de
      riembloem,” _Internationales Archiv für Ethnographie_, vii. (1894)
      p. 105. The Dutch language has separate names for the two species:
      mistletoe is _mistel_, and _Loranthus_ is _riembloem_.

  798 His letter is dated 18th February, 1908.

 M255 Reason for preferring common mistletoe. Perhaps Virgil confused the
      two species.

  799 But Sir Francis Darwin writes to me:—“I do not quite see why
      _Loranthus_ should not put out leaves in winter as easily as
      _Viscum_, in both cases it would be due to unfolding leaf buds; the
      fact that _Viscum_ has adult leaves at the time, while _Loranthus_
      has not, does not really affect the matter.” However, Mr. Paton
      tells us, as we have just seen, that in winter the _Loranthus_
      growing on the oaks of Mount Athos has no leaves, though its yellow
      berries are very conspicuous.