Chapter 18. The Perils of the Soul.
Section 1. The Soul as a Mannikin.
THE FOREGOING examples have taught us that the office of a sacred king
or priest is often hedged in by a series of burdensome restrictions or
taboos, of which a principal purpose appears to be to preserve the life of
the divine man for the good of his people. But if the object of the taboos is
to save his life, the question arises, How is their observance supposed to
effect this end? To understand this we must know the nature of the danger
which threatens the king's life, and which it is the intention of these curious
restrictions to guard against. We must, therefore, ask: What does early man
understand by death? To what causes does he attribute it? And how does
he think it may be guarded against? 1
As the savage commonly explains the processes of inanimate nature by
supposing that they are produced by living beings working in or behind the
phenomena, so he explains the phenomena of life itself. If an animal lives
and moves, it can only be, he thinks, because there is a little animal inside
which moves it: if a man lives and moves, it can only be because he has a
little man or animal inside who moves him. The animal inside the animal, the
man inside the man, is the soul. And as the activity of an animal or man is
explained by the presence of the soul, so the repose of sleep or death is
explained by its absence; sleep or trance being the temporary, death being
the permanent absence of the soul. Hence if death be the permanent
absence of the soul, the way to guard against it is either to prevent the soul
from leaving the body, or, if it does depart, to ensure that it shall return. The
precautions adopted by savages to secure one or other of these ends take
the form of certain prohibitions or taboos, which are nothing but rules
intended to ensure either the continued presence or the return of the soul.
In short, they are life-preservers or life-guards. These general statements
will now be illustrated by examples. 2
Addressing some Australian blacks, a European missionary said, "I am
not one, as you think, but two." Upon this they laughed. "You may laugh as
much as you like," continued the missionary, "I tell you that I am two in
one; this great body that you see is one; within that there is another little
one which is not visible. The great body dies, and is buried, but the little
body flies away when the great one dies." To this some of the blacks
replied, "Yes, yes. We also are two, we also have a little body within the
breast." On being asked where the little body went after death, some said it
went behind the bush, others said it went into the sea, and some said they
did not know. The Hurons thought that the soul had a head and body, arms
and legs; in short, that it was a complete little model of the man himself. The
Esquimaux believe that "the soul exhibits the same shape as the body it
belongs to, but is of a more subtle and ethereal nature." According to the
Nootkas the soul has the shape of a tiny man; its seat is the crown of the
head. So long as it stands erect, its owner is hale and hearty; but when
from any cause it loses its upright position, he loses his senses. Among the
Indian tribes of the Lower Fraser River, man is held to have four souls, of
which the principal one has the form of a mannikin, while the other three
are shadows of it. The Malays conceive the human soul as a little man,
mostly invisible and of the bigness of a thumb, who corresponds exactly in
shape, proportion, and even in complexion to the man in whose body he
resides. This mannikin is of a thin, unsubstantial nature, though not so
impalpable but that it may cause displacement on entering a physical
object, and it can flit quickly from place to place; it is temporarily absent
from the body in sleep, trance, and disease, and permanently absent after
death. 3
So exact is the resemblance of the mannikin to the man, in other words, of
the soul to the body, that, as there are fat bodies and thin bodies, so there
are fat souls and thin souls; as there are heavy bodies and light bodies,
long bodies and short bodies, so there are heavy souls and light souls,
long souls and short souls. The people of Nias think that every man, before
he is born, is asked how long or how heavy a soul he would like, and a
soul of the desired weight or length is measured out to him. The heaviest
soul ever given out weighs about ten grammes. The length of a man's life is
proportioned to the length of his soul; children who die young had short
souls. The Fijian conception of the soul as a tiny human being comes
clearly out in the customs observed at the death of a chief among the
Nakelo tribe. When a chief dies, certain men, who are the hereditary
undertakers, call him, as he lies, oiled and ornamented, on fine mats,
saying, "Rise, sir, the chief, and let us be going. The day has come over
the land." Then they conduct him to the river side, where the ghostly
ferryman comes to ferry Nakelo ghosts across the stream. As they thus
attend the chief on his last journey, they hold their great fans close to the
ground to shelter him, because, as one of them explained to a missionary,
"His soul is only a little child." People in the Punjaub who tattoo themselves
believe that at death the soul, "the little entire man or woman" inside the
mortal frame, will go to heaven blazoned with the same tattoo patterns
which adorned the body in life. Sometimes, however, as we shall see, the
human soul is conceived not in human but in animal form. 4
Section 2. Absence and Recall of the Soul.
THE SOUL is commonly supposed to escape by the natural openings of the
body, especially the mouth and nostrils. Hence in Celebes they sometimes
fasten fish-hooks to a sick man's nose, navel, and feet, so that if his soul
should try to escape it may be hooked and held fast. A Turik on the Baram
River, in Borneo, refused to part with some hook-like stones, because
they, as it were, hooked his soul to his body, and so prevented the spiritual
portion of him from becoming detached from the material. When a Sea Dyak
sorcerer or medicine-man is initiated, his fingers are supposed to be
furnished with fish-hooks, with which he will thereafter clutch the human
soul in the act of flying away, and restore it to the body of the sufferer. But
hooks, it is plain, may be used to catch the souls of enemies as well as of
friends. Acting on this principle head-hunters in Borneo hang wooden
hooks beside the skulls of their slain enemies in the belief that this helps
them on their forays to hook in fresh heads. One of the implements of a
Haida medicine-man is a hollow bone, in which he bottles up departing
souls, and so restores them to their owners. When any one yawns in their
presence the Hindoos always snap their thumbs, believing that this will
hinder the soul from issuing through the open mouth. The Marquesans used
to hold the mouth and nose of a dying man, in order to keep him in life by
preventing his soul from escaping; the same custom is reported of the New
Caledonians; and with the like intention the Bagobos of the Philippine
Islands put rings of brass wire on the wrists or ankles of their sick. On the
other hand, the Itonamas of South America seal up the eyes, nose, and
mouth of a dying person, in case his ghost should get out and carry off
others; and for a similar reason the people of Nias, who fear the spirits of
the recently deceased and identify them with the breath, seek to confine
the vagrant soul in its earthly tabernacle by bunging up the nose or tying
up the jaws of the corpse. Before leaving a corpse the Wakelbura of
Australia used to place hot coals in its ears in order to keep the ghost in
the body, until they had got such a good start that he could not overtake
them. In Southern Celebes, to hinder the escape of a woman's soul in
childbed, the nurse ties a band as tightly as possible round the body of the
expectant mother. The Minangkabauers of Sumatra observe a similar
custom; a skein of thread or a string is sometimes fastened round the wrist
or loins of a woman in childbed, so that when her soul seeks to depart in
her hour of travail it may find the egress barred. And lest the soul of a babe
should escape and be lost as soon as it is born, the Alfoors of Celebes,
when a birth is about to take place, are careful to close every opening in
the house, even the keyhole; and they stop up every chink and cranny in
the walls. Also they tie up the mouths of all animals inside and outside the
house, for fear one of them might swallow the child's soul. For a similar
reason all persons present in the house, even the mother herself, are
obliged to keep their mouths shut the whole time the birth is taking place.
When the question was put, Why they did not hold their noses also, lest the
child's soul should get into one of them? the answer was that breath being
exhaled as well as inhaled through the nostrils, the soul would be expelled
before it could have time to settle down. Popular expressions in the
language of civilised peoples, such as to have one's heart in one's mouth,
or the soul on the lips or in the nose, show how natural is the idea that the
life or soul may escape by the mouth or nostrils. 1
Often the soul is conceived as a bird ready to take flight. This conception
has probably left traces in most languages, and it lingers as a metaphor in
poetry. The Malays carry out the conception of the bird-soul in a number
of odd ways. If the soul is a bird on the wing, it may be attracted by rice,
and so either prevented from flying away or lured back again from its
perilous flight. Thus in Java when a child is placed on the ground for the
first time (a moment which uncultured people seem to regard as especially
dangerous), it is put in a hen-coop and the mother makes a clucking
sound, as if she were calling hens. And in Sintang, a district of Borneo,
when a person, whether man, woman, or child, has fallen out of a house or
off a tree, and has been brought home, his wife or other kinswoman goes
as speedily as possible to the spot where the accident happened, and
there strews rice, which has been coloured yellow, while she utters the
words, "Cluck! cluck! soul! So-and-so is in his house again. Cluck! cluck!
soul!" Then she gathers up the rice in a basket, carries it to the sufferer,
and drops the grains from her hand on his head, saying again, "Cluck!
cluck! soul!" Here the intention clearly is to decoy back the loitering
bird-soul and replace it in the head of its owner. 2
The soul of a sleeper is supposed to wander away from his body and
actually to visit the places, to see the persons, and to perform the acts of
which he dreams. For example, when an Indian of Brazil or Guiana wakes
up from a sound sleep, he is firmly convinced that his soul has really been
away hunting, fishing, felling trees, or whatever else he has dreamed of
doing, while all the time his body has been lying motionless in his
hammock. A whole Bororo village has been thrown into a panic and nearly
deserted because somebody had dreamed that he saw enemies stealthily
approaching it. A Macusi Indian in weak health, who dreamed that his
employer had made him haul the canoe up a series of difficult cataracts,
bitterly reproached his master next morning for his want of consideration in
thus making a poor invalid go out and toil during the night. The Indians of
the Gran Chaco are often heard to relate the most incredible stories as
things which they have themselves seen and heard; hence strangers who
do not know them intimately say in their haste that these Indians are liars. In
point of fact the Indians are firmly convinced of the truth of what they relate;
for these wonderful adventures are simply their dreams, which they do not
distinguish from waking realities. 3
Now the absence of the soul in sleep has its dangers, for if from any
cause the soul should be permanently detained away from the body, the
person thus deprived of the vital principle must die. There is a German
belief that the soul escapes from a sleeper's mouth in the form of a white
mouse or a little bird, and that to prevent the return of the bird or animal
would be fatal to the sleeper. Hence in Transylvania they say that you
should not let a child sleep with its mouth open, or its soul will slip out in
the shape of a mouse, and the child will never wake. Many causes may
detain the sleeper's soul. Thus, his soul may meet the soul of another
sleeper and the two souls may fight; if a Guinea negro wakens with sore
bones in the morning, he thinks that his soul has been thrashed by another
soul in sleep. Or it may meet the soul of a person just deceased and be
carried off by it; hence in the Aru Islands the inmates of a house will not
sleep the night after a death has taken place in it, because the soul of the
deceased is supposed to be still in the house and they fear to meet it in a
dream. Again, the soul of the sleeper may be prevented by an accident or
by physical force from returning to his body. When a Dyak dreams of falling
into the water, he supposes that this accident has really befallen his spirit,
and he sends for a wizard, who fishes for the spirit with a hand-net in a
basin of water till he catches it and restores it to its owner. The Santals tell
how a man fell asleep, and growing very thirsty, his soul, in the form of a
lizard, left his body and entered a pitcher of water to drink. Just then the
owner of the pitcher happened to cover it; so the soul could not return to
the body and the man died. While his friends were preparing to burn the
body some one uncovered the pitcher to get water. The lizard thus escaped
and returned to the body, which immediately revived; so the man rose up
and asked his friends why they were weeping. They told him they thought
he was dead and were about to burn his body. He said he had been down
a well to get water, but had found it hard to get out and had just returned.
So they saw it all. 4
It is a common rule with primitive people not to waken a sleeper, because
his soul is away and might not have time to get back; so if the man
wakened without his soul, he would fall sick. If it is absolutely necessary to
rouse a sleeper, it must be done very gradually, to allow the soul time to
return. A Fijian in Matuku, suddenly wakened from a nap by somebody
treading on his foot, has been heard bawling after his soul and imploring it
to return. He had just been dreaming that he was far away in Tonga, and
great was his alarm on suddenly wakening to find his body in Matuku.
Death stared him in the face unless his soul could be induced to speed at
once across the sea and reanimate its deserted tenement. The man would
probably have died of fright if a missionary had not been at hand to allay
his terror. 5
Still more dangerous is it in the opinion of primitive man to move a sleeper
or alter his appearance, for if this were done the soul on its return might not
be able to find or recognise its body, and so the person would die. The
Minangkabauers deem it highly improper to blacken or dirty the face of a
sleeper, lest the absent soul should shrink from re-entering a body thus
disfigured. Patani Malays fancy that if a person's face be painted while he
sleeps, the soul which has gone out of him will not recognise him, and he
will sleep on till his face is washed. In Bombay it is thought equivalent to
murder to change the aspect of a sleeper, as by painting his face in
fantastic colours or giving moustaches to a sleeping woman. For when the
soul returns it will not know its own body, and the person will die. 6
But in order that a man's soul should quit his body, it is not necessary that
he should be asleep. It may quit him in his waking hours, and then
sickness, insanity, or death will be the result. Thus a man of the Wurunjeri
tribe in Australia lay at his last gasp because his spirit had departed from
him. A medicine-man went in pursuit and caught the spirit by the middle
just as it was about to plunge into the sunset glow, which is the light cast
by the souls of the dead as they pass in and out of the under-world, where
the sun goes to rest. Having captured the vagrant spirit, the doctor brought
it back under his opossum rug, laid himself down on the dying man, and put
the soul back into him, so that after a time he revived. The Karens of Burma
are perpetually anxious about their souls, lest these should go roving from
their bodies, leaving the owners to die. When a man has reason to fear that
his soul is about to take this fatal step, a ceremony is performed to retain or
recall it, in which the whole family must take part. A meal is prepared
consisting of a cock and hen, a special kind of rice, and a bunch of
bananas. Then the head of the family takes the bowl which is used to skim
rice, and knocking with it thrice on the top of the houseladder says:
"Prrrroo! Come back, soul, do not tarry outside! If it rains, you will be wet. If
the sun shines, you will be hot. The gnats will sting you, the leeches will
bite you, the tigers will devour you, the thunder will crush you. Prrrroo!
Come back, soul! Here it will be well with you. You shall want for nothing.
Come and eat under shelter from the wind and the storm." After that the
family partakes of the meal, and the ceremony ends with everybody tying
their right wrist with a string which has been charmed by a sorcerer.
Similarly the Lolos of South-western China believe that the soul leaves the
body in chronic illness. In that case they read a sort of elaborate litany,
calling on the soul by name and beseeching it to return from the hills, the
vales, the rivers, the forests, the fields, or from wherever it may be straying.
At the same time cups of water, wine, and rice are set at the door for the
refreshment of the weary wandering spirit. When the ceremony is over, they
tie a red cord round the arm of the sick man to tether the soul, and this cord
is worn by him until it decays and drops off. 7
Some of the Congo tribes believe that when a man is ill, his soul has left
his body and is wandering at large. The aid of the sorcerer is then called in
to capture the vagrant spirit and restore it to the invalid. Generally the
physician declares that he has successfully chased the soul into the
branch of a tree. The whole town thereupon turns out and accompanies the
doctor to the tree, where the strongest men are deputed to break off the
branch in which the soul of the sick man is supposed to be lodged. This
they do and carry the branch back to the town, insinuating by their
gestures that the burden is heavy and hard to bear. When the branch has
been brought to the sick man's hut, he is placed in an upright position by
its side, and the sorcerer performs the enchantments by which the soul is
believed to be restored to its owner. 8
Pining, sickness, great fright, and death are ascribed by the Bataks of
Sumatra to the absence of the soul from the body. At first they try to beckon
the wanderer back, and to lure him, like a fowl, by strewing rice. Then the
following form of words is commonly repeated: "Come back, O soul,
whether thou art lingering in the wood, or on the hills, or in the dale. See, I
call thee with a toemba bras, with an egg of the fowl Rajah moelija, with the
eleven healing leaves. Detain it not, let it come straight here, detain it not,
neither in the wood, nor on the hill, nor in the dale. That may not be. O
come straight home!" Once when a popular traveller was leaving a Kayan
village, the mothers, fearing that their children's souls might follow him on
his journey, brought him the boards on which they carry their infants and
begged him to pray that the souls of the little ones would return to the
familiar boards and not go away with him into the far country. To each
board was fastened a looped string for the purpose of tethering the vagrant
spirits, and through the loop each baby was made to pass a chubby finger
to make sure that its tiny soul would not wander away. 9
In an Indian story a king conveys his soul into the dead body of a
Brahman, and a hunchback conveys his soul into the deserted body of the
king. The hunchback is now king and the king is a Brahman. However, the
hunchback is induced to show his skill by transferring his soul to the dead
body of a parrot, and the king seizes the opportunity to regain possession
of his own body. A tale of the same type, with variations of detail,
reappears among the Malays. A king has incautiously transferred his soul
to an ape, upon which the vizier adroitly inserts his own soul into the king's
body and so takes possession of the queen and the kingdom, while the true
king languishes at court in the outward semblance of an ape. But one day
the false king, who played for high stakes, was watching a combat of rams,
and it happened that the animal on which he had laid his money fell down
dead. All efforts to restore animation proved unavailing till the false king,
with the instinct of a true sportsman, transferred his own soul to the body of
the deceased ram, and thus renewed the fray. The real king in the body of
the ape saw his chance, and with great presence of mind darted back into
his own body, which the vizier had rashly vacated. So he came to his own
again, and the usurper in the ram's body met with the fate he richly
deserved. Similarly the Greeks told how the soul of Hermotimus of
Clazomenae used to quit his body and roam far and wide, bringing back
intelligence of what he had seen on his rambles to his friends at home; until
one day, when his spirit was abroad, his enemies contrived to seize his
deserted body and committed it to the flames. 10
The departure of the soul is not always voluntary. It may be extracted from
the body against its will by ghosts, demons, or sorcerers. Hence, when a
funeral is passing the house, the Karens tie their children with a special
kind of string to a particular part of the house, lest the souls of the children
should leave their bodies and go into the corpse which is passing. The
children are kept tied in this way until the corpse is out of sight. And after
the corpse has been laid in the grave, but before the earth has been
shovelled in, the mourners and friends range themselves round the grave,
each with a bamboo split lengthwise in one hand and a little stick in the
other; each man thrusts his bamboo into the grave, and drawing the stick
along the groove of the bamboo points out to his soul that in this way it may
easily climb up out of the tomb. While the earth is being shovelled in, the
bamboos are kept out of the way, lest the souls should be in them, and so
should be inadvertently buried with the earth as it is being thrown into the
grave; and when the people leave the spot they carry away the bamboos,
begging their souls to come with them. Further, on returning from the grave
each Karen provides himself with three little hooks made of branches of
trees, and calling his spirit to follow him, at short intervals, as he returns, he
makes a motion as if hooking it, and then thrusts the hook into the ground.
This is done to prevent the soul of the living from staying behind with the
soul of the dead. When the Karo-Bataks have buried somebody and are
filling in the grave, a sorceress runs about beating the air with a stick. This
she does in order to drive away the souls of the survivors, for if one of
these souls happened to slip into the grave and to be covered up with
earth, its owner would die. 11
In Uea, one of the Loyalty Islands, the souls of the dead seem to have
been credited with the power of stealing the souls of the living. For when a
man was sick the soul-doctor would go with a large troop of men and
women to the graveyard. Here the men played on flutes and the women
whistled softly to lure the soul home. After this had gone on for some time
they formed in procession and moved homewards, the flutes playing and
the women whistling all the way, while they led back the wandering soul
and drove it gently along with open palms. On entering the patient's
dwelling they commanded the soul in a loud voice to enter his body. 12
Often the abduction of a man's soul is set down to demons. Thus fits and
convulsions are generally ascribed by the Chinese to the agency of certain
mischievous spirits who love to draw men's souls out of their bodies. At
Amoy the spirits who serve babies and children in this way rejoice in the
high-sounding titles of "celestial agencies bestriding galloping horses" and
"literary graduates residing halfway up in the sky." When an infant is
writhing in convulsions, the frightened mother hastens to the roof of the
house, and, waving about a bamboo pole to which one of the child's
garments is attached, cries out several times "My child So-and-so, come
back, return home!" Meantime, another inmate of the house bangs away at
a gong in the hope of attracting the attention of the strayed soul, which is
supposed to recognise the familiar garment and to slip into it. The garment
containing the soul is then placed on or beside the child, and if the child
does not die recovery is sure to follow, sooner or later. Similarly some
Indians catch a man's lost soul in his boots and restore it to his body by
putting his feet into them. 13
In the Moluccas when a man is unwell it is thought that some devil has
carried away his soul to the tree, mountain, or hill where he (the devil)
resides. A sorcerer having pointed out the devil's abode, the friends of the
patient carry thither cooked rice, fruit, fish, raw eggs, a hen, a chicken, a
silken robe, gold, armlets, and so forth. Having set out the food in order
they pray, saying: "We come to offer to you, O devil, this offering of food,
clothes, gold, and so on; take it and release the soul of the patient for
whom we pray. Let it return to his body, and he who now is sick shall be
made whole." Then they eat a little and let the hen loose as a ransom for
the soul of the patient; also they put down the raw eggs; but the silken robe,
the gold, and the armlets they take home with them. As soon as they are
come to the house they place a flat bowl containing the offerings which
have been brought back at the sick man's head, and say to him: "Now is
your soul released, and you shall fare well and live to grey hairs on the
earth." 14
Demons are especially feared by persons who have just entered a new
house. Hence at a house-warming among the Alfoors of Minahassa in
Celebes the priest performs a ceremony for the purpose of restoring their
souls to the inmates. He hangs up a bag at the place of sacrifice and then
goes through a list of the gods. There are so many of them that this takes
him the whole night through without stopping. In the morning he offers the
gods an egg and some rice. By this time the souls of the household are
supposed to be gathered in the bag. So the priest takes the bag, and
holding it on the head of the master of the house, says, "Here you have
your soul; go (soul) to-morrow away again." He then does the same,
saying the same words, to the housewife and all the other members of the
family. Amongst the same Alfoors one way of recovering a sick man's soul
is to let down a bowl by a belt out of a window and fish for the soul till it is
caught in the bowl and hauled up. And among the same people, when a
priest is bringing back a sick man's soul which he has caught in a cloth, he
is preceded by a girl holding the large leaf of a certain palm over his head
as an umbrella to keep him and the soul from getting wet, in case it should
rain; and he is followed by a man brandishing a sword to deter other souls
from any attempt at rescuing the captured spirit. 15
Sometimes the lost soul is brought back in a visible shape. The Salish or
Flathead Indians of Oregon believe that a man's soul may be separated for
a time from his body without causing death and without the man being
aware of his loss. It is necessary, however, that the lost soul should be
soon found and restored to its owner or he will die. The name of the man
who has lost his soul is revealed in a dream to the medicine-man, who
hastens to inform the sufferer of his loss. Generally a number of men have
sustained a like loss at the same time; all their names are revealed to the
medicine-man, and all employ him to recover their souls. The whole night
long these soulless men go about the village from lodge to lodge, dancing
and singing. Towards daybreak they go into a separate lodge, which is
closed up so as to be totally dark. A small hole is then made in the roof,
through which the medicine-man, with a bunch of feathers, brushes in the
souls, in the shape of bits of bone and the like, which he receives on a
piece of matting. A fire is next kindled, by the light of which the
medicine-man sorts out the souls. First he puts aside the souls of dead
people, of which there are usually several; for if he were to give the soul of
a dead person to a living man, the man would die instantly. Next he picks
out the souls of all the persons present, and making them all to sit down
before him, he takes the soul of each, in the shape of a splinter of bone,
wood, or shell, and placing it on the owner's head, pats it with many
prayers and contortions till it descends into the heart and so resumes its
proper place. 16
Again, souls may be extracted from their bodies or detained on their
wanderings not only by ghosts and demons but also by men, especially by
sorcerers. In Fiji, if a criminal refused to confess, the chief sent for a scarf
with which "to catch away the soul of the rogue." At the sight or even at the
mention of the scarf the culprit generally made a clean breast. For if he did
not, the scarf would be waved over his head till his soul was caught in it,
when it would be carefully folded up and nailed to the end of a chief's
canoe; and for want of his soul the criminal would pine and die. The
sorcerers of Danger Island used to set snares for souls. The snares were
made of stout cinet, about fifteen to thirty feet long, with loops on either side
of different sizes, to suit the different sizes of souls; for fat souls there were
large loops, for thin souls there were small ones. When a man was sick
against whom the sorcerers had a grudge, they set up these soul-snares
near his house and watched for the flight of his soul. If in the shape of a
bird or an insect it was caught in the snare, the man would infallibly die. In
some parts of West Africa, indeed, wizards are continually setting traps to
catch souls that wander from their bodies in sleep; and when they have
caught one, they tie it up over the fire, and as it shrivels in the heat the
owner sickens. This is done, not out of any grudge towards the sufferer, but
purely as a matter of business. The wizard does not care whose soul he
has captured, and will readily restore it to its owner, if only he is paid for
doing so. Some sorcerers keep regular asylums for strayed souls, and
anybody who has lost or mislaid his own soul can always have another
one from the asylum on payment of the usual fee. No blame whatever
attaches to men who keep these private asylums or set traps for passing
souls; it is their profession, and in the exercise of it they are actuated by no
harsh or unkindly feelings. But there are also wretches who from pure spite
or for the sake of lucre set and bait traps with the deliberate purpose of
catching the soul of a particular man; and in the bottom of the pot, hidden
by the bait, are knives and sharp hooks which tear and rend the poor soul,
either killing it outright or mauling it so as to impair the health of its owner
when it succeeds in escaping and returning to him. Miss Kingsley knew a
Kruman who became very anxious about his soul, because for several
nights he had smelt in his dreams the savoury smell of smoked crawfish
seasoned with red pepper. Clearly some ill-wisher had set a trap baited
with this dainty for his dream-soul, intending to do him grievous bodily, or
rather spiritual, harm; and for the next few nights great pains were taken to
keep his soul from straying abroad in his sleep. In the sweltering heat of the
tropical night he lay sweating and snorting under a blanket, his nose and
mouth tied up with a handkerchief to prevent the escape of his precious
soul. In Hawaii there were sorcerers who caught souls of living people,
shut them up in calabashes, and gave them to people to eat. By squeezing
a captured soul in their hands they discovered the place where people had
been secretly buried. 17
Nowhere perhaps is the art of abducting human souls more carefully
cultivated or carried to higher perfection than in the Malay Peninsula. Here
the methods by which the wizard works his will are various, and so too are
his motives. Sometimes he desires to destroy an enemy, sometimes to win
the love of a cold or bashful beauty. Thus, to take an instance of the latter
sort of charm, the following are the directions given for securing the soul of
one whom you wish to render distraught. When the moon, just risen, looks
red above the eastern horizon, go out, and standing in the moonlight, with
the big toe of your right foot on the big toe of your left, make a
speaking-trumpet of your right hand and recite through it the following
words:
"OM. I loose my shaft, I loose it and the moon clouds over,
I loose it, and the sun is extinguished.
I loose it, and the stars burn dim.
But it is not the sun, moon, and stars that I shoot at,
It is the stalk of the heart of that child of the congregation,
So-and-so.
Cluck! cluck! soul of So-and-so, come and walk with me,
Come and sit with me,
Come and sleep and share my pillow.
Cluck! cluck! soul." Repeat this thrice and after every repetition blow
through your hollow fist. Or you may catch the soul in your turban, thus. Go
out on the night of the full moon and the two succeeding nights; sit down on
an ant-hill facing the moon, burn incense, and recite the following
incantation:
"I bring you a betel leaf to chew,
Dab the lime on to it, Prince Ferocious,
For Somebody, Prince Distraction's daughter, to chew.
Somebody at sunrise be distraught for love of me
Somebody at sunset be distraught for love of me.
As you remember your parents, remember me;
As you remember your house and houseladder, remember me;
When thunder rumbles, remember me;
When wind whistles, remember me;
When the heavens rain, remember me;
When cocks crow, remember me;
When the dial-bird tells its tales, remember me;
When you look up at the sun, remember me;
When you look up at the moon, remember me,
For in that self-same moon I am there.
Cluck! cluck! soul of Somebody come hither to me.
I do not mean to let you have my soul,
Let your soul come hither to mine." 18
Now wave the end of your turban towards the moon seven times each
night. Go home and put it under your pillow, and if you want to wear it in
the daytime, burn incense and say, "It is not a turban that I carry in my
girdle, but the soul of Somebody." 19
The Indians of the Nass River, in British Columbia, are impressed with a
belief that a physician may swallow his patient's soul by mistake. A doctor
who is believed to have done so is made by the other members of the
faculty to stand over the patient, while one of them thrusts his fingers down
the doctor's throat, another kneads him in the stomach with his knuckles,
and a third slaps him on the back. If the soul is not in him after all, and if the
same process has been repeated upon all the medical men without
success, it is concluded that the soul must be in the head-doctor's box. A
party of doctors, therefore, waits upon him at his house and requests him to
produce his box. When he has done so and arranged its contents on a new
mat, they take the votary of Aesculapius and hold him up by the heels with
his head in a hole in the floor. In this position they wash his head, and "any
water remaining from the ablution is taken and poured upon the sick man's
head." No doubt the lost soul is in the water. 20
Section 3. The Soul as a Shadow and a Reflection.
BUT the spiritual dangers I have enumerated are not the only ones which
beset the savage. Often he regards his shadow or reflection as his soul, or
at all events as a vital part of himself, and as such it is necessarily a
source of danger to him. For if it is trampled upon, struck, or stabbed, he
will feel the injury as if it were done to his person; and if it is detached from
him entirely (as he believes that it may be) he will die. In the island of Wetar
there are magicians who can make a man ill by stabbing his shadow with a
pike or hacking it with a sword. After Sankara had destroyed the Buddhists
in India, it is said that he journeyed to Nepaul, where he had some
difference of opinion with the Grand Lama. To prove his supernatural
powers, he soared into the air. But as he mounted up the Grand Lama,
perceiving his shadow swaying and wavering on the ground, struck his
knife into it and down fell Sankara and broke his neck. 1
In the Banks Islands there are some stones of a remarkably long shape
which go by the name of "eating ghosts," because certain powerful and
dangerous ghosts are believed to lodge in them. If a man's shadow falls on
one of these stones, the ghost will draw his soul out from him, so that he
will die. Such stones, therefore, are set in a house to guard it; and a
messenger sent to a house by the absent owner will call out the name of
the sender, lest the watchful ghost in the stone should fancy that he came
with evil intent and should do him a mischief. At a funeral in China, when
the lid is about to be placed on the coffin, most of the bystanders, with the
exception of the nearest kin, retire a few steps or even retreat to another
room, for a person's health is believed to be endangered by allowing his
shadow to be enclosed in a coffin. And when the coffin is about to be
lowered into the grave most of the spectators recoil to a little distance lest
their shadows should fall into the grave and harm should thus be done to
their persons. The geomancer and his assistants stand on the side of the
grave which is turned away from the sun; and the grave-diggers and
coffin-bearers attach their shadows firmly to their persons by tying a strip
of cloth tightly round their waists. Nor is it human beings alone who are thus
liable to be injured by means of their shadows. Animals are to some extent
in the same predicament. A small snail, which frequents the neighbourhood
of the limestone hills in Perak, is believed to suck the blood of cattle
through their shadows; hence the beasts grow lean and sometimes die from
loss of blood. The ancients supposed that in Arabia, if a hyaena trod on a
man's shadow, it deprived him of the power of speech and motion; and that
if a dog, standing on a roof in the moonlight, cast a shadow on the ground
and a hyaena trod on it, the dog would fall down as if dragged with a rope.
Clearly in these cases the shadow, if not equivalent to the soul, is at least
regarded as a living part of the man or the animal, so that injury done to the
shadow is felt by the person or animal as if it were done to his body. 2
Conversely, if the shadow is a vital part of a man or an animal, it may
under certain circumstances be as hazardous to be touched by it as it
would be to come into contact with the person or animal. Hence the savage
makes it a rule to shun the shadow of certain persons whom for various
reasons he regards as sources of dangerous influence. Amongst the
dangerous classes he commonly ranks mourners and women in general,
but especially his mother-in-law. The Shuswap Indians think that the
shadow of a mourner falling upon a person would make him sick. Amongst
the Kurnai of Victoria novices at initiation were cautioned not to let a
woman's shadow fall across them, as this would make them thin, lazy, and
stupid. An Australian native is said to have once nearly died of fright
because the shadow of his mother-in-law fell on his legs as he lay asleep
under a tree. The awe and dread with which the untutored savage
contemplates his mother-in-law are amongst the most familiar facts of
anthropology. In the Yuin tribes of New South Wales the rule which forbade
a man to hold any communication with his wife's mother was very strict. He
might not look at her or even in her direction. It was a ground of divorce if
his shadow happened to fall on his mother-in-law: in that case he had to
leave his wife, and she returned to her parents. In New Britain the native
imagination fails to conceive the extent and nature of the calamities which
would result from a man's accidentally speaking to his wife's mother;
suicide of one or both would probably be the only course open to them.
The most solemn form of oath a New Briton can take is, "Sir, if I am not
telling the truth, I hope I may shake hands with my mother-in-law." 3
Where the shadow is regarded as so intimately bound up with the life of
the man that its loss entails debility or death, it is natural to expect that its
diminution should be regarded with solicitude and apprehension, as
betokening a corresponding decrease in the vital energy of its owner. In
Amboyna and Uliase, two islands near the equator, where necessarily
there is little or no shadow cast at noon, the people make it a rule not to go
out of the house at mid-day, because they fancy that by doing so a man
may lose the shadow of his soul. The Mangaians tell of a mighty warrior,
Tukaitawa, whose strength waxed and waned with the length of his shadow.
In the morning, when his shadow fell longest, his strength was greatest; but
as the shadow shortened towards noon his strength ebbed with it, till
exactly at noon it reached its lowest point; then, as the shadow stretched
out in the afternoon, his strength returned. A certain hero discovered the
secret of Tukaitawa's strength and slew him at noon. The savage Besisis of
the Malay Peninsula fear to bury their dead at noon, because they fancy
that the shortness of their shadows at that hour would sympathetically
shorten their own lives. 4
Nowhere, perhaps, does the equivalence of the shadow to the life or soul
come out more clearly than in some customs practised to this day in
South-eastern Europe. In modern Greece, when the foundation of a new
building is being laid, it is the custom to kill a cock, a ram, or a lamb, and
to let its blood flow on the foundation-stone, under which the animal is
afterwards buried. The object of the sacrifice is to give strength and stability
to the building. But sometimes, instead of killing an animal, the builder
entices a man to the foundation-stone, secretly measures his body, or a
part of it, or his shadow, and buries the measure under the
foundation-stone; or he lays the foundation-stone upon the man's shadow.
It is believed that the man will die within the year. The Roumanians of
Transylvania think that he whose shadow is thus immured will die within
forty days; so persons passing by a building which is in course of erection
may hear a warning cry, "Beware lest they take thy shadow!" Not long ago
there were still shadow-traders whose business it was to provide architects
with the shadows necessary for securing their walls. In these cases the
measure of the shadow is looked on as equivalent to the shadow itself, and
to bury it is to bury the life or soul of the man, who, deprived of it, must die.
Thus the custom is a substitute for the old practice of immuring a living
person in the walls, or crushing him under the foundation-stone of a new
building, in order to give strength and durability to the structure, or more
definitely in order that the angry ghost may haunt the place and guard it
against the intrusion of enemies. 5
As some peoples believe a man's soul to be in his shadow, so other (or
the same) peoples believe it to be in his reflection in water or a mirror. Thus
"the Andamanese do not regard their shadows but their reflections (in any
mirror) as their souls." When the Motumotu of New Guinea first saw their
likenesses in a looking-glass, they thought that their reflections were their
souls. In New Caledonia the old men are of opinion that a person's
reflection in water or a mirror is his soul; but the younger men, taught by the
Catholic priests, maintain that it is a reflection and nothing more, just like
the reflection of palm-trees in the water. The reflection-soul, being external
to the man, is exposed to much the same dangers as the shadow-soul. The
Zulus will not look into a dark pool because they think there is a beast in it
which will take away their reflections, so that they die. The Basutos say that
crocodiles have the power of thus killing a man by dragging his reflection
under water. When one of them dies suddenly and from no apparent cause,
his relatives will allege that a crocodile must have taken his shadow some
time when he crossed a stream. In Saddle Island, Melanesia, there is a
pool "into which if any one looks he dies; the malignant spirit takes hold
upon his life by means of his reflection on the water." 6
We can now understand why it was a maxim both in ancient India and
ancient Greece not to look at one's reflection in water, and why the Greeks
regarded it as an omen of death if a man dreamed of seeing himself so
reflected. They feared that the water-spirits would drag the person's
reflection or soul under water, leaving him soulless to perish. This was
probably the origin of the classical story of the beautiful Narcissus, who
languished and died through seeing his reflection in the water. 7
Further, we can now explain the widespread custom of covering up
mirrors or turning them to the wall after a death has taken place in the
house. It is feared that the soul, projected out of the person in the shape of
his reflection in the mirror, may be carried off by the ghost of the departed,
which is commonly supposed to linger about the house till the burial. The
custom is thus exactly parallel to the Aru custom of not sleeping in a house
after a death for fear that the soul, projected out of the body in a dream,
may meet the ghost and be carried off by it. The reason why sick people
should not see themselves in a mirror, and why the mirror in a sick-room is
therefore covered up, is also plain; in time of sickness, when the soul might
take flight so easily, it is particularly dangerous to project it out of the body
by means of the reflection in a mirror. The rule is therefore precisely parallel
to the rule observed by some peoples of not allowing sick people to sleep;
for in sleep the soul is projected out of the body, and there is always a risk
that it may not return. 8
As with shadows and reflections, so with portraits; they are often believed
to contain the soul of the person portrayed. People who hold this belief are
naturally loth to have their likenesses taken; for if the portrait is the soul, or
at least a vital part of the person portrayed, whoever possesses the portrait
will be able to exercise a fatal influence over the original of it. Thus the
Esquimaux of Bering Strait believe that persons dealing in witchcraft have
the power of stealing a person's shade, so that without it he will pine away
and die. Once at a village on the lower Yukon River an explorer had set up
his camera to get a picture of the people as they were moving about among
their houses. While he was focusing the instrument, the headman of the
village came up and insisted on peeping under the cloth. Being allowed to
do so, he gazed intently for a minute at the moving figures on the ground
glass, then suddenly withdrew his head and bawled at the top of his voice
to the people, "He has all of your shades in this box." A panic ensued
among the group, and in an instant they disappeared helterskelter into their
houses. The Tepehuanes of Mexico stood in mortal terror of the camera,
and five days' persuasion was necessary to induce them to pose for it.
When at last they consented, they looked like criminals about to be
executed. They believed that by photographing people the artist could
carry off their souls and devour them at his leisure moments. They said that,
when the pictures reached his country, they would die or some other evil
would befall them. When Dr. Catat and some companions were exploring
the Bara country on the west coast of Madagascar, the people suddenly
became hostile. The day before the travellers, not without difficulty, had
photographed the royal family, and now found themselves accused of
taking the souls of the natives for the purpose of selling them when they
returned to France. Denial was vain; in compliance with the custom of the
country they were obliged to catch the souls, which were then put into a
basket and ordered by Dr. Catat to return to their respective owners. 9
Some villagers in Sikhim betrayed a lively horror and hid away whenever
the lens of a camera, or "the evil eye of the box" as they called it, was
turned on them. They thought it took away their souls with their pictures,
and so put it in the power of the owner of the pictures to cast spells on
them, and they alleged that a photograph of the scenery blighted the
landscape. Until the reign of the late King of Siam no Siamese coins were
ever stamped with the image of the king, "for at that time there was a strong
prejudice against the making of portraits in any medium. Europeans who
travel into the jungle have, even at the present time, only to point a camera
at a crowd to procure its instant dispersion. When a copy of the face of a
person is made and taken away from him, a portion of his life goes with the
picture. Unless the sovereign had been blessed with the years of a
Methusaleh he could scarcely have permitted his life to be distributed in
small pieces together with the coins of the realm." 10
Beliefs of the same sort still linger in various parts of Europe. Not very
many years ago some old women in the Greek island of Carpathus were
very angry at having their likenesses drawn, thinking that in consequence
they would pine and die. There are persons in the West of Scotland "who
refuse to have their likenesses taken lest it prove unlucky; and give as
instances the cases of several of their friends who never had a day's
health after being photographed." 11