Note 176 — K (continued 5)

The following note on a Kondh funeral dance in the Ganjam Māliahs is from the pen of an eye-witness.176 “The dead Pātro is, as usual, a hill Uriya, of ancient lineage, no less than that of the great totem of nola bompsa or the ancestral wood-pigeon that laid its eggs in the hollow of a bamboo, from which this family sprang. Various and most interesting are the totems of the Māliahs. In passing, I may mention another curious totem, that of the pea-fowl, two eggs of which a man brought home to his wife, who laid them in an earthen pot, and from them sprang a man-child, the progenitor of a famous family. But to return to the Pātro. Before sunset, mourned by his two wives, the younger and favourite one carrying a young child of light bamboo colour, he had been burnt, without much ceremony, in an open grassy spot, his ashes scattered to the four winds of heaven, and the spot marked by wooden posts driven deep into the soil. Not now would be celebrated the funeral obsequies, but a month hence on the accession of his eldest son, the future Pātro, a fair lad of eighteen years. As the day for the obsequies drew near, an unusual bustle filled the air. Potters from the low country arrived, and hundreds upon hundreds of earthen pots of all sizes and shapes were turned, and piled in great heaps near the village. Huge buffaloes, unconscious of their approaching fate, lay tethered near, or wallowing in bovine luxury in a swamp hard by. Messengers had been sent far and near to all the Pātros, Molikos, and Bissoyis. Even the Kuttiya Khonds were not left out. The auspicious morning at length dawned, when a distinguished company began to arrive, each chief with his followers, and in many cases his wives and little children, all dressed in their best, and bent on enjoying everything to the utmost. I noticed fine stalwart men from Udiagiri on the edge of the ghauts, together with Khonds from more civilised Baliguda, and Khonds from cold and breezy Daringabadi, cheerful in spite of the numbers of their relatives that had found a horrid tomb inside a man-eating tiger that since 1886 (together with another ally lately started) had carried off more than four hundred of their kith and kin. Distinguished amongst even that wild horde for savagery were the Khonds from the Kuttiya country, who live on tops of hills, and whose women are seldom, if ever, seen. These are remarkable for their enormous quantities of frizzly hair tied in huge chignons over the right brow, and decorated with feathers of every hue—the jay, the parrot, the peacock and the white quills of the paddy-bird predominating. Their short, sturdy limbs are hung in every direction with necklaces and curious blue beads and cut agates, said to be dug out of ancient burial places and cromlechs in Central India. Certain it is that almost no inducement will prevail on a Khond to voluntarily part with these precious heirlooms. As each fresh detachment arrived, their first occupation was to go to a neighbouring tank (pond), and, after a wash and decoration of head and hair with either the orthodox feathers, or, prettier still, with wreaths of wild flowers, to repair to the late chief’s house, and, presenting themselves at the door, condole, with much vigour of lungs, with the now less disconsolate widows on their recent loss. This ceremony over, they tendered their allegiance to the young son of the dead Pātro, permitted by Government to take his place, and each man received from him an earthen cooking-pot, and each circle of villages a buffalo. The Khond is a beef eater, but a curious custom prevails in some parts, that a married woman must abstain from the flesh of a cow. These preliminary ceremonies over, the crowd adjourned, with great noise of shouting, blowing of buffalo horns, and beating of drums, to the open grassy spot marked by posts, where the late Pātro had been burned, and where a recently killed buffalo, weltering in its gore, now lay. Among the throng of men, women and children, most of the former more than slightly elevated by drinking copious draughts of a kind of beer made from the kuhari grain, were three Khonds carrying long poles surmounted by huge bunches of peacock feathers that blazed in the sunlight like emeralds and sapphires. The funeral dance now commenced. The dance itself is simple in the extreme, for, when the right spot was reached, old men and young began gyrating round and round in a large circle, a perfect human merry-go-round. The old grey-beards, plodding slowly round the ring, and stamping on the soil with their aged feet, presented a great contrast to the younger and wilder men, who capered and pranced about, sometimes outside the circle, waving their tanghis in the air, and every now and then leaping up to the slain buffalo, and dipping their axes into its blood, and then back again, dancing more wildly than ever, round and round from west to east, till the eye ached to behold the perpetual motion of this animated wheel. In the centre revolved the three men with the huge bunches of peacock feathers afore-mentioned. When any dropped out of the circle to rest there were many eager and willing to take their places, and so, with relays of fresh dancers, this human circle revolved on for three whole days, only ceasing at nightfall, when by large fires the various tribes cooked in the earthen pots provided the buffaloes presented by the new Pātro. In olden days, an animal was given to each village, but on this occasion only to a circle of villages, occasioning thereby certain grumblings among the wiseacres for the good old days of the past, when not only buffaloes in plenty, but Meriah human victims as well were lavishly provided and sacrificed. ‘Ichabod,’ said they in Khond, ‘the glory of the Māliahs hath departed.’ On the afternoon of the third day, the Pātros, Molikas, Bissoyis, and others of the great men began to depart with their retainers for their distant homes in the jungles, having had a thoroughly good time. The women, who had been very shy at first, fled at my approach, now, after three days’ familiarity with a white face, began to show symptoms of friendliness, so that they allowed me to go quite near to them to examine their pretty necklaces of coloured grasses, silver coins, and curious beads, and to count the numbers of small sticks (generally about twelve or fifteen) of broom that were arranged in the shape of a crescent round the outer edges of the pierced ears of each unmarried village belle, and to observe at close quarters the strange tattooed patterns in blue of zigzag and curve that to my eyes disfigured their otherwise comely faces. As to beauty of figure, I think very few can compare with a young and well-grown Khond maiden, with her straight back and handsome proportions. It was, therefore, without much difficulty that I persuaded some of them to dance before me. Six buxom girls stepped out, all of them the respectable daughters of well-to-do Khonds, prepared to dance the famous peacock dance. Round their supple but massive waists was twisted the strip of national Khond cloth of blue, red and white, and for bodices what could be more becoming than their glossy brown skins of nature’s millinery, gracefully wreathed with garlands of coloured grasses and strings of gay beads. The polished jet black hair, neatly tied in a knot at the back, and decorated with pretty lacquered and silver combs, or with forest flowers, added yet more to their picturesque appearance. Each girl now took a long strip of white cloth, and, winding it round her waist, allowed one end to trail at the back in the fashion of a Liberty sash. This was supposed to represent the tail of the peacock. Three of the girls then faced the three others, and, with their left hands resting on their hips, and their elbows sticking out (to represent the wings), and the right arms extended in front with the fingers outstretched to simulate the neck and beak, began to dance to the ear-piercing shrieks of cracked trumpet, and to the deep beatings of a Māliah drum marking excellent time. On and on they danced, advancing and retiring, and now and then crossing over (not unlike the first figure of the quadrille), while their tinkling feet, ‘like little mice, stole in and out,’ the heels alternately clashing against each other, in exact time to the music, and the lips gracefully waving from side to side as they advanced or retired. There was perfect grace of movements combined with extreme modesty, the large expressive eyes veiled by the long lashes never once being raised, and the whole demeanour utterly oblivious to the crowd of enthusiastic admirers that surrounded them on all sides. But for the wild scene around, the noise and shrieking of instruments, and the fantastic dresses of the Khonds (many of whom had buffalo horns tied on to their painted faces, or had decorated their heads with immense wigs of long black hair), one might easily have supposed these shrinking damsels to have been the pick of a Mission School specially selected for propriety to dance the South Indian kummi before, say, an itinerant Bishop of ascetic tendencies and æsthetic temperament. When their heaving, panting bodies showed that exhausted nature claimed them for her own, the man with the trumpet or the drum would rush up, and blow or beat it almost under their drooping heads, urging them with shouts and gesticulations to further energy, till at length the shades of night crept over the hills, and, with one accord, the dancing and the deafening music ceased, while the six girls stole quietly back and were soon lost in the crowd.”