The Golden Bough: A Study in Magic and Religion (Third Edition, Vol. 03 of 12)

(Berlin, 1906-1910), i. 49.] Hence just as the furtive savage conceals his real name because he fears that sorcerers might make an evil use of it, so he fancies that his gods must likewise keep their true names secret, lest other gods or even men should learn the mystic sounds and thus be able to conjure with them. Nowhere was this crude conception of the secrecy and magical virtue of the divine name more firmly held or more fully developed than in ancient Egypt, where the superstitions of a dateless past were embalmed in the hearts of the people hardly less effectually than the bodies of cats and crocodiles and the rest of the divine menagerie in their rock-cut tombs. The conception is well illustrated by a story which tells how the subtle Isis wormed his secret name from Ra, the great Egyptian god of the sun. Isis, so runs the tale, was a woman mighty in words, and she was weary of the world of men, and yearned after the world of the gods. And she meditated in her heart, saying, “Cannot I by virtue of the great name of Ra make myself a goddess and reign like him in heaven and earth?” For Ra had many names, but the great name which gave him all power over gods and men was known to none but himself. Now the god was by this time grown old; he slobbered at the mouth and his spittle fell upon the ground. So Isis gathered up the spittle and the earth with it, and kneaded thereof a serpent and laid it in the path where the great god passed every day to his double kingdom after his heart's desire. And when he came forth according to his wont, attended by all his company of gods, the sacred serpent stung him, and the god opened his mouth and cried, and his cry went up to heaven. And the company of gods cried, “What aileth thee?” and the gods shouted, “Lo and behold!” But he could not answer; his jaws rattled, his limbs shook, the poison ran through his flesh as the Nile floweth over the land. When the great god had stilled his heart, he cried to his followers, “Come to me, O my children, offspring of my body. I am a prince, the son of a prince, the divine seed of a god. My father devised my name; my father and my mother gave me my name, and it remained hidden in my body since my birth, that no magician might have magic power over me. I went out to behold that which I have made, I walked in the two lands which I have created, and lo! something stung me. What it was, I know not. Was it fire? was it water? My heart is on fire, my flesh trembleth, all my limbs do quake. Bring me the children of the gods with healing words and understanding lips, whose power reacheth to heaven.” Then came to him the children of the gods, and they were very sorrowful. And Isis came with her craft, whose mouth is full of the breath of life, whose spells chase pain away, whose word maketh the dead to live. She said, “What is it, divine Father? what is it?” The holy god opened his mouth, he spake and said, “I went upon my way, I walked after my heart's desire in the two regions which I have made to behold that which I have created, and lo! a serpent that I saw not stung me. Is it fire? is it water? I am colder than water, I am hotter than fire, all my limbs sweat, I tremble, mine eye is not steadfast, I behold not the sky, the moisture bedeweth my face as in summer-time.” Then spake Isis, “Tell me thy name, divine Father, for the man shall live who is called by his name.” Then answered Ra, “I created the heavens and the earth, I ordered the mountains, I made the great and wide sea, I stretched out the two horizons like a curtain. I am he who openeth his eyes and it is light, and who shutteth them and it is dark. At his command the Nile riseth, but the gods know not his name. I am Khepera in the morning, I am Ra at noon, I am Tum at eve.” But the poison was not taken away from him; it pierced deeper, and the great god could no longer walk. Then said Isis to him, “That was not thy name that thou spakest unto me. Oh tell it me, that the poison may depart; for he shall live whose name is named.” Now the poison burned like fire, it was hotter than the flame of fire. The god said, “I consent that Isis shall search into me, and that my name shall pass from my breast into hers.” Then the god hid himself from the gods, and his place in the ship of eternity was empty. Thus was the name of the great god taken from him, and Isis, the witch, spake, “Flow away poison, depart from Ra. It is I, even I, who overcome the poison and cast it to the earth; for the name of the great god hath been taken away from him. Let Ra live and let the poison die.” Thus spake great Isis, the queen of the gods, she who knows Ra and his true name.[1442 - A. Erman, Ägypten und ägyptisches Leben im Altertum, pp. 359-362; A. Wiedemann, Die Religion der alten Ägypter, pp. 29-32; G. Maspero, Histoire ancienne des peuples de l'Orient classique: les origines, pp. 162-164; R. V. Lanzone, Dizionario di mitologia egizia (Turin, 1881-1884), pp. 818-822; E. A. Wallis Budge, The Book of the Dead (London, 1895), pp. lxxxix. – xci.; id., Egyptian Magic, pp. 136 sqq.; id., The Gods of the Egyptians (London, 1904), i. 360 sq. The abridged form of the story given in the text is based on a comparison of these various versions, of which Erman's is slightly, and Maspero's much curtailed. Mr. Budge's version is reproduced by Mr. E. Clodd (Tom Tit Tot, pp. 180 sqq.).]

Egyptian wizards have worked enchantments by the names of the gods both in ancient and modern times. Magical constraint exercised over demons by means of their names in North Africa and China.

Thus we see that the real name of the god, with which his power was inextricably bound up, was supposed to be lodged, in an almost physical sense, somewhere in his breast, from which it could be extracted by a sort of surgical operation and transferred with all its supernatural powers to the breast of another. In Egypt attempts like that of Isis to appropriate the power of a high god by possessing herself of his name were not mere legends told of the mythical beings of a remote past; every Egyptian magician aspired to wield like powers by similar means. For it was believed that he who possessed the true name possessed the very being of god or man, and could force even a deity to obey him as a slave obeys his master. Thus the art of the magician consisted in obtaining from the gods a revelation of their sacred names, and he left no stone unturned to accomplish his end. When once a god in a moment of weakness or forgetfulness had imparted to the wizard the wondrous lore, the deity had no choice but to submit humbly to the man or pay the penalty of his contumacy.[1443 - G. Maspero, Études de mythologie et d'archéologie égyptienne (Paris, 1893), ii. 297 sq.] In one papyrus we find the god Typhon thus adjured: “I invoke thee by thy true names, in virtue of which thou canst not refuse to hear me”; and in another the magician threatens Osiris that if the god does not do his bidding he will name him aloud in the port of Busiris.[1444 - E. Lefébure, “La Vertu et la vie du nom en Égypte,” Mélusine, viii. (1897) coll. 227 sq. Compare A. Erman, Ägypten und ägyptisches Leben im Altertum, pp. 472 sq.; E. A. Wallis Budge, Egyptian Magic, pp. 157 sqq.] So in the Lucan the Thessalian witch whom Sextus Pompeius consulted before the battle of Pharsalia threatens to call up the Furies by their real names if they will not do her bidding.[1445 - Lucan, Pharsalia, vi. 730 sqq.] In modern Egypt the magician still works his old enchantments by the same ancient means; only the name of the god by which he conjures is different. The man who knows “the most great name” of God can, we are told, by the mere utterance of it kill the living, raise the dead, transport himself instantly wherever he pleases, and perform any other miracle.[1446 - E. W. Lane, Manners and Customs of the Ancient Egyptians (Paisley and London, 1895), ch. xii. p. 273.] Similarly among the Arabs of North Africa at the present day “the power of the name is such that when one knows the proper names the jinn can scarcely help answering the call and obeying; they are the servants of the magical names; in this case the incantation has a constraining quality which is for the most part very strongly marked. When Ibn el Hâdjdj et-Tlemsânî relates how the jinn yielded up their secrets to him, he says, ‘I once met the seven kings of the jinn in a cave and I asked them to teach me the way in which they attack men and women, causing them to fall sick, smiting them, paralysing them, and the like. They all answered me: “If it were anybody but you we would teach that to nobody, but you have discovered the bonds, the spells, and the names which compel us; were it not for the names by which you have constrained us, we would not have answered to your call.” ’ ”[1447 - E. Doutté, Magie et religion dans l'Afrique du nord, p. 130.] So, too, “the Chinese of ancient times were dominated by the notion that beings are intimately associated with their names, so that a man's knowledge of the name of a spectre might enable him to exert power over the latter and to bend it to his will.”[1448 - J. J. M. de Groot, The Religious System of China, vi. (Leyden, 1910) p. 1126.]

Divine names used by the Romans to conjure with.

The belief in the magic virtue of divine names was shared by the Romans. When they sat down before a city, the priests addressed the guardian deity of the place in a set form of prayer or incantation, inviting him to abandon the beleaguered city and come over to the Romans, who would treat him as well as or better than he had ever been treated in his old home. Hence the name of the guardian deity of Rome was kept a profound secret, lest the enemies of the republic might lure him away, even as the Romans themselves had induced many gods to desert, like rats, the falling fortunes of cities that had sheltered them in happier days.[1449 - Pliny, Nat. Hist. xxviii. 18; Macrobius, Saturn. iii. 9; Servius on Virgil, Aen. ii. 351; Plutarch, Quaest. Rom. 61. According to Servius (l. c.) it was forbidden by the pontifical law to mention any Roman god by his proper name, lest it should be profaned. Compare Festus, p. 106, ed. C. O. Müller: “Indigetes dii quorum nomina vulgari non licet.” On the other hand the Romans were careful, for the sake of good omen, to choose men with lucky names, like Valerius, Salvius, Statorius, to open any enterprise of moment, such as to lead the sacrificial victims in a religious procession or to be the first to answer to their names in a levy or a census. See Cicero, De divinatione, i. 45. 102 sq.; Festus, s. v. “Lacus Lucrinus,” p. 121, ed. C. O. Müller; Pliny, Nat. Hist. xxviii. 22; Tacitus, Histor. iv. 53.] Nay, the real name, not merely of its guardian deity, but of the city itself, was wrapt in mystery and might never be uttered, not even in the sacred rites. A certain Valerius Soranus, who dared to divulge the priceless secret, was put to death or came to a bad end.[1450 - Pliny, Nat. Hist. iii. 65; Solinus, i. 4 sq.; Macrobius, Sat. iii. 9, 3, and 5; Servius, on Virgil, Aen. i. 277; Joannes Lydus, De mensibus, iv. 50.] In like manner, it seems, the ancient Assyrians were forbidden to mention the mystic names of their cities;[1451 - F. Fossey, La Magie assyrienne (Paris, 1902), pp. 58, 95.] and down to modern times the Cheremiss of the Caucasus keep the names of their communal villages secret from motives of superstition.[1452 - T. de Pauly, Description ethnographique des peuples de la Russie (St. Petersburg, 1862), Peuples ouralo-altaïques, p. 24.]

The taboos on names of kings and commoners are alike in origin.

If the reader has had the patience to follow this long and perhaps tedious examination of the superstitions attaching to personal names, he will probably agree that the mystery in which the names of royal personages are so often shrouded is no isolated phenomenon, no arbitrary expression of courtly servility and adulation, but merely the particular application of a general law of primitive thought, which includes within its scope common folk and gods as well as kings and priests.

§ 6. Common Words tabooed

Common words as well as personal names are often tabooed from superstitious motives.

But personal names are not the only words which superstitious fears have banished from everyday use. In many cases similar motives forbid certain persons at certain times to call common things by common names, thus obliging them either to refrain from mentioning these things altogether or to designate them by special terms or phrases reserved for such occasions. A consideration of these cases follows naturally on an examination of the taboos imposed upon personal names; for personal names are themselves very often ordinary terms of the language, so that an embargo laid on them necessarily extends to many expressions current in the commerce of daily life. And though a survey of some of the interdicts on common words is not strictly necessary for our immediate purpose, it may serve usefully to complete our view of the transforming influence which superstition has exercised on language. I shall make no attempt to subject the examples to a searching analysis or a rigid classification, but will set them down as they come in a rough geographical order. And since my native land furnishes as apt instances of the superstition as any other, we may start on our round from Scotland.

Common words tabooed by Highland fowlers and fishermen.

In the Atlantic Ocean, about six leagues to the west of Gallon Head in the Lewis, lies a small group of rocky islets known as the Flannan Islands. Sheep and wild fowl are now their only inhabitants, but remains of what are described as Druidical temples and the title of the Sacred Isles given them by Buchanan suggest that in days gone by piety or superstition may have found a safe retreat from the turmoil of the world in these remote solitudes, where the dashing of the waves and the strident scream of the sea-birds are almost the only sounds that break the silence. Once a year, in summer-time, the inhabitants of the adjacent lands of the Lewis, who have a right to these islands, cross over to them to fleece their sheep and kill the wild fowl for the sake both of their flesh and their feathers. They regard the islands as invested with a certain sanctity, and have been heard to say that none ever yet landed in them but found himself more disposed to devotion there than anywhere else. Accordingly the fowlers who go thither are bound, during the whole of the time that they ply their business, to observe very punctiliously certain quaint customs, the transgression of which would be sure, in their opinion, to entail some serious inconvenience. When they have landed and fastened their boat to the side of a rock, they clamber up into the island by a wooden ladder, and no sooner are they got to the top, than they all uncover their heads and make a turn sun-ways round about, thanking God for their safety. On the biggest of the islands are the ruins of a chapel dedicated to St. Flannan. When the men come within about twenty paces of the altar, they all strip themselves of their upper garments at once and betake themselves to their devotions, praying thrice before they begin fowling. On the first day the first prayer is offered as they advance towards the chapel on their knees; the second is said as they go round the chapel; and the third is said in or hard by the ruins. They also pray thrice every evening, and account it unlawful to kill a fowl after evening prayers, as also to kill a fowl at any time with a stone. Another ancient custom forbids the crew to carry home in the boat any suet of the sheep they slaughter in the islands, however many they may kill. But what here chiefly concerns us is that so long as they stay on the islands they are strictly forbidden to use certain common words, and are obliged to substitute others for them. Thus it is absolutely unlawful to call the island of St. Kilda, which lies thirty leagues to the southward, by its proper Gaelic name of Hirt; they must call it only “the high country.” They may not so much as once name the islands in which they are fowling by the ordinary name of Flannan; they must speak only of “the country.” “There are several other things that must not be called by their common names: e. g.visk, which in the language of the natives signifies water, they call burn; a rock, which in their language is creg, must here be called cruey, i. e. hard; shore in their language expressed by claddach, must here be called vah, i. e. a cave; sour in their language is expressed gort, but must here be called gaire, i. e. sharp; slippery, which is expressed bog, must be called soft; and several other things to this purpose.”[1453 - M. Martin, “Description of the Western Islands of Scotland,” in Pinkerton's Voyages and Travels, iii. 579 sq. As to the Flannan Islands see also Sir J. Sinclair's Statistical Account of Scotland, xix. (Edinburgh, 1797), p. 283.] When Highlanders were in a boat at sea, whether sailing or fishing, they were forbidden to call things by the names by which they were known on land. Thus the boat-hook should not be called a croman, but a chliob; a knife not sgian, but “the sharp one” (a ghiar); a seal not ròn, but “the bald beast” (béisd mhaol); a fox not sionnach, but “the red dog” (madadh ruadh); the stone for anchoring the boat not clach, but “hardness” (cruaidh). This practice now prevails much more on the east coast than on the west, where it may be said to be generally extinct. It is reported to be carefully observed by the fishermen about the Cromarty Firth.[1454 - J. G. Campbell, Superstitions of the Highlands and Islands of Scotland (Glasgow, 1900), p. 239.] Among the words tabooed by fishermen in the north of Scotland when they are at sea are minister, salmon, hare, rabbit, rat, pig, and porpoise. At the present day if some of the boats that come to the herring-fishing at Wick should meet a salmon-boat from Reay in Caithness, the herring-men will not speak to, nor even look at, the salmon-fishers.[1455 - Miss Morag Cameron, “Highland Fisher-folk and their Superstitions,” Folk-lore, xiv. (1903) p. 304.]

Common words tabooed by Scotch fishermen and others.

When Shetland fishermen are at sea, they employ a nomenclature peculiar to the occasion, and hardly anything may be mentioned by its usual name. The substituted terms are mostly of Norwegian origin, for the Norway men were reported to be good fishers.[1456 - A. Edmonston, Zetland Islands (Edinburgh, 1809), ii. 74.] In setting their lines the Shetland fishermen are bound to refer to certain objects only by some special words or phrases. Thus a knife is then called a skunie or tullie; a church becomes buanhoos or banehoos; a minister is upstanda or haydeen or prestingolva; the devil is da auld chield, da sorrow, da ill-healt (health), or da black tief; a cat is kirser, fitting, vengla, or foodin.[1457 - Ch. Rogers, Social Life in Scotland (Edinburgh, 1884-1886), iii. 218.] On the north-east coast of Scotland there are some villages, of which the inhabitants never pronounce certain words and family names when they are at sea; each village has its peculiar aversion to one or more of these words, among which are “minister,” “kirk,” “swine,” “salmon,” “trout,” and “dog.” When a church has to be referred to, as often happens, since some of the churches serve as land-marks to the fishermen at sea, it is spoken of as the “bell-hoose” instead of the “kirk.” A minister is called “the man wi' the black quyte.” It is particularly unlucky to utter the word “sow” or “swine” or “pig” while the line is being baited; if any one is foolish enough to do so, the line is sure to be lost. In some villages on the coast of Fife a fisherman who hears the ill-omened word spoken will cry out “Cold iron.” In the village of Buckie there are some family names, especially Ross, and in a less degree Coull, which no fisherman will pronounce. If one of these names be mentioned in the hearing of a fisherman, he spits or, as he calls it, “chiffs.” Any one who bears the dreaded name is called a “chiffer-oot,” and is referred to only by a circumlocution such as “The man it diz so in so,” or “the laad it lives at such and such a place.” During the herring-season men who are unlucky enough to inherit the tabooed names have little chance of being hired in the fishing-boats; and sometimes, if they have been hired before their names were known, they have been refused their wages at the end of the season, because the boat in which they sailed had not been successful, and the bad luck was set down to their presence in it.[1458 - W. Gregor, Folk-lore of the North-East of Scotland, pp. 199-201.] Although in Scotland superstitions of this kind appear to be specially incident to the callings of fishermen and fowlers, other occupations are not exempt from them. Thus in the Outer Hebrides the fire of a kiln is not called fire (teine) but aingeal. Such a fire, it is said, is a dangerous thing, and ought not to be referred to except by a euphemism. “Evil be to him who called it fire or who named fire in the kiln. It was considered the next thing to setting it on fire.”[1459 - “Traditions, Customs, and Superstitions of the Lewis,” Folk-lore, vi. (1895) p. 170; Miss A. Goodrich-Freer, “The Powers of Evil in the Outer Hebrides,” Folk-lore, x. (1899) p. 265.] Again, in some districts of Scotland a brewer would have resented the use of the word “water” in reference to the work in which he was engaged. “Water be your part of it,” was the common retort. It was supposed that the use of the word would spoil the brewing.[1460 - J. Mackenzie, Ten Years north of the Orange River (Edinburgh, 1871), p. 151, note 1.] The Highlanders say that when you meet a hobgoblin, and the fiend asks what is the name of your dirk, you should not call it a dirk (biodag), but “my father's sister” (piuthar m'athar) or “my grandmother's sister” (piuthar mo sheanamhair) or by some similar title. If you do not observe this precaution, the goblin will lay such an enchantment on the blade that you will be unable to stab him with it; the dirk will merely make a tinkling noise against the soft impalpable body of the fiend.[1461 - J. G. Campbell, Witchcraft and Second Sight in the Highlands and Islands of Scotland (Glasgow, 1902), pp. 184 sq.]

Common words, especially the names of dangerous animals, tabooed in various parts of Europe.

Manx fishermen think it unlucky to mention a horse or a mouse on board a fishing-boat.[1462 - J. Rhys, “Manx Folk-lore and Superstitions,” Folk-lore, iii. (1892) p. 84.] The fishermen of Dieppe on board their boats will not speak of several things, for instance priests and cats.[1463 - A. Bosquet, La Normandie romanesque et merveilleuse (Paris and Rouen, 1845), p. 308.] German huntsmen, from motives of superstition, call everything by names different from those in common use.[1464 - J. G. Gmelin, Reise durch Sibirien, ii. (Göttingen, 1752), p. 277] In some parts of Bavaria the farmer will not mention a fox by its proper name, lest his poultry-yard should suffer from the ravages of the animal. So instead of Fuchs he calls the beast Loinl, Henoloinl, Henading, or Henabou.[1465 - Bavaria, Landes- und Volkskunde des Königreichs Bayern, ii. (Munich, 1863), p. 304.] In Prussia and Lithuania they say that in the month of December you should not call a wolf a wolf but “the vermin” (das Gewürm), otherwise you will be torn in pieces by the werewolves.[1466 - Tettau und Temme, Die Volkssagen Ostpreussens, Litthauens und Westpreussens (Berlin, 1837), p. 281.] In various parts of Germany it is a rule that certain animals may not be mentioned by their proper names in the mystic season between Christmas and Twelfth Night. Thus in Thüringen they say that if you would be spared by the wolves you must not mention their name at this time.[1467 - W. Witzschel, Sagen, Sitten, und Gebräuche aus Thüringen, p. 175, § 30.] In Mecklenburg people think that were they to name a wolf on one of these days the animal would appear. A shepherd would rather mention the devil than the wolf at this season; and we read of a farmer who had a bailiff named Wolf, but did not dare to call the man by his name between Christmas and Twelfth Night, referring to him instead as Herr Undeert (Mr. Monster). In Quatzow, a village of Mecklenburg, there are many animals whose common names are disused at this season and replaced by others: thus a fox is called “long-tail,” and a mouse “leg-runner” (Boenlöper). Any person who disregards the custom has to pay a fine.[1468 - K. Bartsch, Sagen, Märchen, und Gebräuche aus Meklenburg, ii. p. 246, §§ 1273, 1274.] In the Mark of Brandenburg they say that between Christmas and Twelfth Night you should not speak of mice as mice but as dinger; otherwise the field-mice would multiply excessively.[1469 - A. Kuhn, Märkische Sagen und Märchen, p. 378, § 14.] According to the Swedish popular belief, there are certain animals which should never be spoken of by their proper names, but must always be signified by euphemisms and kind allusions to their character. Thus, if you speak slightingly of the cat or beat her, you must be sure not to mention her name; for she belongs to the hellish crew, and is a friend of the mountain troll, whom she often visits. Great caution is also needed in talking of the cuckoo, the owl, and the magpie, for they are birds of witchery. The fox must be called “blue-foot,” or “he that goes in the forest”; and rats are “the long-bodied,” mice “the small grey,” and the seal “brother Lars.” Swedish herd-girls, again, believe that if the wolf and the bear be called by other than their proper and legitimate names, they will not attack the herd. Hence they give these brutes names which they fancy will not hurt their feelings. The number of endearing appellations lavished by them on the wolf is legion; they call him “golden tooth,” “the silent one,” “grey legs,” and so on; while the bear is referred to by the respectful titles of “the old man,” “grandfather,” “twelve men's strength,” “golden feet,” and more of the same sort. Even inanimate things are not always to be called by their usual names. For instance, fire is sometimes to be called “heat” (hetta) not eld or ell; water for brewing must be called lag or löu, not vatn, else the beer would not turn out so well.[1470 - B. Thorpe, Northern Mythology, ii. 83 sq.; L. Lloyd, Peasant Life in Sweden (London, 1870), p. 251.] The Huzuls of the Carpathians, a pastoral people, who dread the ravages of wild beasts on their flocks and herds, are unwilling to mention the bear by his proper name, so they call him respectfully “the little uncle” or “the big one.” In like manner and for similar reasons they name the wolf “the little one” and the serpent “the long one.”[1471 - R. F. Kaindl, Die Huzulen (Vienna, 1894), p. 103; id., “Viehzucht und Viehzauber in den Ostkarpaten,” Globus, lxix. (1896) p. 387.] They may not say that wool is scalded, or in the heat of summer the sheep would rub themselves till their sides were raw; so they merely say that the wool is warmed.[1472 - Id., “Neue Beiträge zur Ethnologie und Volkskunde der Huzulen,” Globus, lxix. (1896) p. 73.] The Lapps fear to call the bear by his true name, lest he should ravage their herds; so they speak of him as “the old man with the coat of skin,” and in cooking his flesh to furnish a meal they may not refer to the work they are engaged in as “cooking,” but must designate it by a special term.[1473 - C. Leemius, De Lapponibus Finmarchiae eorumque lingua, vita, et religione pristina commentatio (Copenhagen, 1767), pp. 502 sq.] The Finns speak of the bear as “the apple of the wood,” “beautiful honey-paw,” “the pride of the thicket,” “the old man,” and so on.[1474 - M. A. Castren, Vorlesungen über die finnische Mythologie (St. Petersburg, 1853), p. 201.] And in general a Finnish hunter thinks that he will have poor sport if he calls animals by their real names; the beasts resent it. The fox and the hare are only spoken of as “game,” and the lynx is termed “the forest cat,” lest it should devour the sheep.[1475 - Varonen, reported by Hon. J. Abercromby in Folk-lore, ii. (1891) pp. 245 sq.] Esthonian peasants are very loth to mention wild beasts by their proper names, for they believe that the creatures will not do so much harm if only they are called by other names than their own. Hence they speak of the bear as “broad foot” and the wolf as “grey coat.”[1476 - Boecler-Kreutzwald, Der Ehsten abergläubische Gebräuche, Weisen und Gewohnheiten, p. 120.]

The names of various animals tabooed in Siberia, Kamtchatka, and America.

The natives of Siberia are unwilling to call a bear a bear; they speak of him as “the little old man,” “the master of the forest,” “the sage,” “the respected one.” Some who are more familiar style him “my cousin.”[1477 - P. Labbé, Un Bagne russe, l'île de Sakhaline (Paris, 1903), p. 231.] The Kamtchatkans reverence the whale, the bear, and the wolf from fear, and never mention their names when they meet them, believing that they understand human speech.[1478 - G. W. Steller, Beschreibung von dem Lande Kamtschatka (Frankfort and Leipsic, 1774), p. 276.] Further, they think that mice also understand the Kamtchatkan language; so in autumn, when they rob the field-mice of the bulbs which these little creatures have laid up in their burrows as a store against winter, they call everything by names different from the ordinary ones, lest the mice should know what they were saying. Moreover, they leave odds and ends, such as old rags, broken needles, cedar-nuts, and so forth, in the burrows, to make the mice think that the transaction has been not a robbery but a fair exchange. If they did not do that, they fancy that the mice would go and drown or hang themselves out of pure vexation; and then what would the Kamtchatkans do without the mice to gather the bulbs for them? They also speak kindly to the animals, and beg them not to take it ill, explaining that what they do is done out of pure friendship.[1479 - G. W. Steller, op. cit. p. 91; compare ib. pp. 129, 130.] The Cherokee Indians regard the rattlesnake as a superior being and take great pains not to offend him. They never say that a man has been bitten by a snake but that he has been “scratched by a briar.” In like manner, when an eagle has been shot for a ceremonial dance, it is announced that “a snowbird has been killed.” The purpose is to deceive the spirits of rattlesnakes or eagles which might be listening.[1480 - J. Mooney, “Sacred Formulas of the Cherokees,” Seventh Annual Report of the Bureau of Ethnology (Washington, 1892), p. 352. Compare id., “Myths of the Cherokee,” Nineteenth Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology, Part i. (Washington, 1900) p. 295.] The Esquimaux of Bering Strait think that some animals can hear and understand what is said of them at a distance. Hence, when a hunter is going out to kill bears he will speak of them with the greatest respect and give out that he is going to hunt some other beast. Thus the bears will be deceived and taken unawares.[1481 - E. W. Nelson, “The Eskimo about Bering Strait,” Eighteenth Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology, Part i. (Washington, 1899) p. 438.] Among the Esquimaux of Baffin Land, women in mourning may not mention the names of any animals.[1482 - F. Boas, “The Eskimo of Baffin Land and Hudson Bay,” Bulletin of the American Museum of Natural History, xv. (1901) p. 148.] Among the Thompson Indians of British Columbia, children may not name the coyote or prairie wolf in winter, lest he should turn on his back and so bring cold weather.[1483 - J. Teit, “The Thompson Indians of British Columbia,” Memoir of the American Museum of Natural History, The Jesup North Pacific Expedition, vol. i. part iv. (April 1900) p. 374.]

Names of animals and things tabooed by the Arabs, Africans, and Malagasy.

The Arabs call a man who has been bitten by a snake “the sound one”; leprosy or the scab they designate “the blessed disease”; the left side they name “the lucky side”; they will not speak of a lion by his right name, but refer to him as for example “the fox.”[1484 - J. Wellhausen, Reste arabischen Heidentums

(Berlin, 1897), p. 199.] In Africa the lion is alluded to with the same ceremonious respect as the wolf and the bear in northern Europe and Asia. The Arabs of Algeria, who hunt the lion, speak of him as Mr. John Johnson (Johan-ben-el-Johan), because he has the noblest qualities of man and understands all languages. Hence, too, the first huntsman to catch sight of the beast points at him with his finger and says, “He is not there”; for if he were to say “He is there,” the lion would eat him up.[1485 - A. Certeux et E. H. Carnoy, L'Algérie traditionnelle (Paris and Algiers, 1884), pp. 172, 175.] Except under dire necessity the Waziguas of eastern Africa never mention the name of the lion from fear of attracting him. They call him “the owner of the land” or “the great beast.”[1486 - Father Picarda, “Autour de Mandéra,” Missions Catholiques, xviii. (1886) p. 227.] The negroes of Angola always use the word ngana (“sir”) in speaking of the same noble animal, because they think that he is “fetish” and would not fail to punish them for disrespect if they omitted to do so.[1487 - J. J. Monteiro, Angola and the River Congo (London, 1875), ii. 116.] Bushmen and Bechuanas both deem it unlucky to speak of the lion by his proper name; the Bechuanas call him “the boy with the beard.”[1488 - J. Mackenzie, Ten Years north of the Orange River (Edinburgh, 1871), p. 151; C. R. Conder, in Journal of the Anthropological Institute, xvi. (1887) p. 84.] During an epidemic of smallpox in Mombasa, British East Africa, it was noticed that the people were unwilling to mention the native name (ndui) of the disease. They referred to it either as “grains of corn” (tete) or simply as “the bad disease.”[1489 - H. B. Johnstone, “Notes on the Customs of the Tribes occupying Mombasa Sub-district, British East Africa,” Journal of the Anthropological Institute, xxxii. (1902) p. 268.] So the Chinese of Amoy are averse to speak of fever by its proper name; they prefer to call it “beggar's disease,” hoping thereby to make the demons of fever imagine that they despise it and that therefore it would be useless to attack them.[1490 - J. J. M. de Groot, The Religious System of China, v. (Leyden, 1907) p. 691.] Some of the natives of Nigeria dread the owl as a bird of ill omen and are loth to mention its name, preferring to speak of it by means of a circumlocution such as “the bird that makes one afraid.”[1491 - A. F. Mockler-Ferryman, British Nigeria (London, 1902), p. 285.] The Herero think that if they see a snake and call it by its name, the reptile will sting them, but that if they call it a strap (omuvia) it will lie still.[1492 - J. Irle, Die Herero (Gütersloh, 1906), p. 133.] When Nandi warriors are out on an expedition, they may not call a knife a knife (chepkeswet); they must call it “an arrow for bleeding cattle” (loñget); and none of the party may utter the usual word employed in greeting males.[1493 - A. C. Hollis, The Nandi (Oxford, 1909), p. 43.] In Madagascar there seems to be an aversion to pronouncing the word for lightning (vàratra); the word for mud (fòtaka) is sometimes substituted for it.[1494 - H. F. Standing, “Malagasy fady,” Antananarivo Annual and Madagascar Magazine, vol. ii., Reprint of the Second Four Numbers (Antananarivo, 1896), p. 258.] Again, it is strictly forbidden to mention the word for crocodile (màmba) near some rivers of Madagascar; and if clothes should be wetted in certain other rivers of the island, you may not say that they are wet (lèna); you must say that they are on fire (may) or that they are drinking water (misòtro ràno).[1495 - H. F. Standing, op. cit. p. 263.] A certain spirit, who used to inhabit a lake in Madagascar, entertained a rooted aversion to salt, so that whenever the thing was carried past the lake in which he resided it had to be called by another name, or it would all have been dissolved and lost. The persons whom he inspired had to veil their references to the obnoxious article under the disguise of “sweet peppers.”[1496 - J. Sibree, The Great African Island, pp. 307 sq.] In a West African story we read of a man who was told that he would die if ever the word for salt was pronounced in his hearing. The fatal word was pronounced, and die he did sure enough, but he soon came to life again with the help of a magical wooden pestle of which he was the lucky possessor.[1497 - R. H. Nassau, Fetichism in West Africa (London, 1904), pp. 381 sqq.]

Names of animals, especially the snake and the tiger, tabooed in India.

In India the animals whose names are most commonly tabooed are the snake and the tiger, but the same tribute of respect is paid to other beasts also. Sayids and Mussulmans of high rank in northern India say that you should never call a snake by its proper name, but always describe it either as a tiger (sher) or a string (rassi).[1498 - Panjab Notes and Queries, i. p. 15, § 122.] In Telingana the euphemistic name for a snake, which should always be employed, is worm or insect (purugu); if you call a cobra by its proper name, the creature will haunt you for seven years and bite you at the first opportunity.[1499 - North Indian Notes and Queries, i. p. 104, § 690.] Ignorant Bengalee women will not mention a snake or a thief by their proper names at night, for fear that one or other might appear. When they have to allude to a serpent, they call it “the creeping thing”; when they speak of a thief, they say “the unwelcome visitor.”[1500 - Id. v. p. 133, § 372.] Other euphemisms for the snake in northern India are “maternal uncle” and “rope.” They say that if a snake bites you, you should not mention its name, but merely observe “A rope has touched me.”[1501 - W. Crooke, Popular Religion and Folk-lore of Northern India (Westminster, 1896), ii. 142 sq.] Natives of Travancore are careful not to speak disrespectfully of serpents. A cobra is called “the good lord” (nalla tambiran) or “the good snake” (nalla pambu). While the Malayalies of the Shervaray Hills are hunting the tiger, they speak of the beast only as “the dog.”[1502 - S. Mateer, Native Life in Travancore, pp. 320 sq.] The Canarese of southern India call the tiger either “the dog” or “the jackal”; they think that if they called him by his proper name, he would be sure to carry off one of them.[1503 - North Indian Notes and Queries, v. p. 133, § 372.] The jungle people of northern India, who meet the tiger in his native haunts, will not pronounce his name, but speak of him as “the jackal” (gídar), or “the beast” (janwar), or use some other euphemistic term. In some places they treat the wolf and the bear in the same fashion.[1504 - W. Crooke, op. cit. ii. 212.] The Pankas of South Mirzapur will not name the tiger, bear, camel, or donkey by their proper names; the camel they call “long neck.” Other tribes of the same district only scruple to mention certain animals in the morning. Thus, the Kharwars, a Dravidian tribe, will not name a pig, squirrel, hare, jackal, bear, monkey, or donkey in the morning hours; if they have to allude to these animals at that time, they call them by special names. For instance, they call the hare “the four-footed one” or “he that hides in the rocks”; while they speak of the bear as jigariya, which being interpreted means “he with the liver of compassion.” If the Bhuiyars are absolutely obliged to refer to a monkey or a bear in the morning, they speak of the monkey as “the tree-climber” and the bear as “the eater of white ants.” They would not mention a crocodile. Among the Pataris the matutinal title of the bear is “the hairy creature.”[1505 - W. Crooke in North Indian Notes and Queries, i. p. 70, § 579; id., Tribes and Castes of the North-Western Provinces and Oudh, iii. 249; id., Popular Religion and Folk-lore of Northern India (Westminster, 1896), ii. 54.] The Kols, a Dravidian race of northern India, will not speak of death or beasts of prey by their proper names in the morning. Their name for the tiger at that time of day is “he with the claws,” and for the elephant “he with the teeth.”[1506 - W. Crooke, Tribes and Castes of the North-Western Provinces and Oudh, iii. 314.] The forests of the Sundarbans, the district at the mouth of the Ganges, are full of man-eating tigers and the annual loss of life among the woodcutters is heavy. Here accordingly the ferocious animal is not called a tiger but a jackal (çial).[1507 - D. Sunder, “Exorcism of Wild Animals in the Sundarbans,” Journal of the Asiatic Society of Bengal, lxxii. part iii. (Calcutta, 1904) pp. 45 sqq., 51.]

Names of animals and things tabooed in Indo-China.

In Annam the fear inspired by tigers, elephants, and other wild animals induces the people to address these creatures with the greatest respect as “lord” or “grandfather,” lest the beasts should take umbrage and attack them.[1508 - H. Mouhot, Travels in the Central Parts of Indo-China (London, 1864), i. 263 sq.] The tiger reigns supreme in the forests of Tonquin and Cochin-China, and the peasants honour him as a maleficent deity. In talking of him they always call him ong, which means monsieur or grandfather. They are convinced that if they dared to speak of him disrespectfully, he would avenge the insult.[1509 - Mgr Masson, in Annales de la Propagation de la Foi, xxiv. (1852) p. 323. Compare Le R. P. Cadière, “Croyances et dictons populaires de la vallée du Nguôn-son,” Bulletin de l'École Française d'Extrême-Orient, i. (1901) p. 134.] In Siam there are many people who would never venture to utter the words tiger or crocodile in a spot where these terrible creatures might be in hiding, lest the sound of their names should attract the attention of the beasts towards the speakers.[1510 - E. Young, The Kingdom of the Yellow Robe (Westminster, 1898), p. 61.] When the Malays of Patani Bay in Siam are in the jungle and think there is a tiger near, they will either speak of him in complimentary terms as the “grandfather of the woods” or only mention him in a whisper.[1511 - N. Annandale, “Primitive Beliefs and Customs of the Patani Fishermen,” Fasciculi Malayenses, Anthropology, part i. (April 1903) p. 104.] In Laos, while a man is out hunting elephants he is obliged to give conventional names to all common objects, which creates a sort of special language for elephant-hunters.[1512 - E. Aymonier, Notes sur le Laos, p. 113; id., Voyage dans le Laos, i. (Paris, 1895) p. 311. In the latter passage the writer observes that the custom of giving conventional names to common objects is very generally observed in Indo-China during the prosecution of long and perilous journeys undertaken periodically.] So when the Chams and Orang-Glaï of Indo-China are searching for the precious eagle-wood in the forest, they must employ an artificial jargon to designate most objects of everyday life; thus, for example, fire is called “the red,” a she-goat becomes “a spider,” and so on. Some of the terms which compose the jargon are borrowed from the dialects of neighbouring tribes.[1513 - Id., “Les Tchames et leurs religions,” Revue de l'Histoire des Religions, xxiv. (1891) p. 278. Compare A. Cabaton, Nouvelles Recherches sur les Chams (Paris, 1901), p. 53.] When the Mentras or aborigines of Malacca are searching for what they call gaharu (lignum aloes) they are obliged to use a special language, avoiding the words in ordinary use. At such times they call gaharu by the name of tabak, and they speak of a snake as “the long animal” and of the elephant as “the great animal.” They have also to observe a number of other taboos, particularly in the matter of diet. If a man has found a promising gaharu tree, and on going home dreams that the guardian spirit of the tree (hantu gaharu) demands a human victim as the price of his property, the dreamer will try next day to catch somebody asleep and to smear his forehead with lime. This is a sign to the guardian spirit of the tree, who accordingly carries away the soul of the sleeper to the land of the dead by means of a fever or other ailment, whereas the original dreamer gets a good supply of aloes wood.[1514 - D. F. A. Hervey, in Indian Notes and Queries (December 1886), p. 45, § 154.]

Special language used by East Indian searchers for camphor.

At certain seasons of the year parties of Jakuns and Binuas go out to seek for camphor in the luxuriant forests of their native country, which is the narrow southern extremity of the Malay Peninsula, the Land's End of Asia. They are absent for three or four months together, and during the whole of this time the use of the ordinary Malay language is forbidden to them, and they have to speak a special language called by them the bassa kapor (camphor language) or pantang[1515 - Pantang is equivalent to taboo. In this sense it is used also by the Dyaks. See S. W. Tromp, “Een Dajaksch Feest,” Bijdragen tot de Taal- Land- en Volkenkunde van Nederlandsch-Indië, xxxix. (1890) pp. 31 sq.]kapur. Indeed not only have the searchers to employ this peculiar language, but even the men and women who stay at home in the villages are obliged to speak it while the others are away looking for the camphor. They believe that a spirit presides over the camphor trees, and that without propitiating him they could not obtain the precious gum; the shrill cry of a species of cicada, heard at night, is supposed to be the voice of the spirit. If they failed to employ the camphor language, they think that they would have great difficulty in finding the camphor trees, and that even when they did find them the camphor would not yield itself up to the collector. The camphor language consists in great part of words which are either Malayan or of Malay origin; but it also contains many words which are not Malayan but are presumed to be remains of the original Jakun dialects now almost extinct in these districts. The words derived from Malayan are formed in many cases by merely substituting a descriptive phrase for the common term. Thus instead of rice they say “grass fruit”; instead of gun they say “far sounding”; the epithet “short-legged” is substituted for hog; hair is referred to as “leaves,” and so on.[1516 - J. R. Logan, “The Orang Binua of Johore,” Journal of the Eastern Archipelago and Eastern Asia, i. (1847) pp. 249, 263-265; A. Bastian, Die Völker des östlichen Asien, v. 37; H. Lake and H. J. Kelsall, “The Camphor Tree and Camphor Language of Johore,” Journal of the Straits Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society, No. 26 (January 1894), pp. 39 sq.; W. W. Skeat, Malay Magic, pp. 212-214; W. W. Skeat and C. O. Blagden, Pagan Races of the Malay Peninsula (London, 1906), ii. 414-431.] So when the Battas or Bataks of Sumatra have gone out to search for camphor, they must abandon the speech of daily life as soon as they reach the camphor forest. For example, if they wish to speak of the forest they may not use the ordinary word for it (hoetan), but must call it kerrengettetdoeng. When they have fixed on a spot in which to try their luck, they set up a booth and clear a space in front of it to serve as a place of sacrifice. Here, after summoning the camphor spirit (berroe ni kapoer) by playing on a flute, they offer sacrifice to him repeatedly. Then they lie down to dream of the place where camphor is to be found. If this succeeds, the leader goes and chooses the tree. When it has been cut down to the accompaniment of certain spells or incantations, one of the men runs and wraps the top of the fallen tree in a garment to prevent the camphor from escaping from the trunk before they have secured it. Then the tree is cleft and split up in the search for the camphor crystals, which are to be found in the fibres of the wood.[1517 - C. M. Pleyte, “Herinneringen uit Oost-Indië,” Tijdschrift van het koninklijk Nederlandsch Aardrijkskundig Genootschap, II Serie, xvii. (1900) pp. 27 sq.] Similarly, when the Kayans of Borneo are searching for camphor, they talk a language invented solely for their use at this time. The camphor itself is never mentioned by its proper name, but is always referred to as “the thing that smells”; and all the tools employed in collecting the drug receive fanciful names. Unless they conform to this rule they suppose that the camphor crystals, which are found only in the crevices of the wood, will elude them.[1518 - W. H. Furness, Folk-lore in Borneo (Wallingford, Pennsylvania, 1899; privately printed), p. 27; id., Home-life of Borneo Head-hunters (Philadelphia, 1902), p. 17. A special language is also used in the search for camphor by some of the natives of Sumatra. See Th. A. L. Heyting, “Beschrijving der onder-afdeeling Groot-Mandeling en Batang-Natal,” Tijdschrift van het Nederlandsch Aardrijkskundig Genootschap, Tweede Serie, xiv. (1897) p. 276.] The Malanau tribes of Borneo observe the same custom very strictly, believing that the crystals would immediately dissolve if they spoke anything but the camphor language. For example, the common Malanau word for “return” is muli, but in presence of a camphor tree they say beteku. Again, “to hide” is palim in the Malanau language, but when they are looking for camphor they say krian. In like manner, all common names for implements and food are exchanged for others. In some tribes the camphor-seekers may never mention the names of chiefs and influential men; if they broke this rule, they would find no camphor in the trees.[1519 - W. H. Furness, Home-life of Borneo Head-hunters, pp. 168 sq.]

Special languages used by Malay miners, fowlers, and fishermen.

In the western states of the Malay Peninsula the chief industry is tin-mining, and odd ideas prevail among the natives as to the nature and properties of the ore. They regard it as alive and growing, sometimes in the shape of a buffalo, which makes its way from place to place underground. Ore of inferior quality is excused on the score of its tender years; it will no doubt improve as it grows older. Not only is the tin believed to be under the protection and command of certain spirits who must be propitiated, but it is even supposed to have its own special likes and dislikes for certain persons and things. Hence the Malays deem it advisable to treat tin ore with respect, to consult its convenience, nay, to conduct the business of mining in such a way that the ore may, as it were, be extracted without its own knowledge. When such are their ideas about the mineral it is no wonder that the miners scruple to employ certain words in the mines, and replace them by others which are less likely to give offence to the ore or its guardian spirits. Thus, for example, the elephant must not be called an elephant but “the tall one who turns himself about”; and in like manner special words, different from those in common use, are employed by the miners to designate the cat, the buffalo, the snake, the centipede, tin sand, metallic tin, and lemons. Lemons are particularly distasteful to the spirits; they may not be brought into the mines.[1520 - W. W. Skeat, Malay Magic, pp. 250, 253-260. In like manner the people of Sikhim intensely dread all mining operations, believing that the ores and veins of metals are the stored treasures of the earth-spirits, who are enraged by the removal of these treasures and visit the robbers with sickness, failure of crops, and other calamities. Hence the Sikhimese leave the copper mines to be worked by Nepaulese. See L. A. Waddell, Among the Himalayas (Westminster, 1899), p. 101.] Again, the Malay wizard, who is engaged in snaring pigeons with the help of a decoy-bird and a calling-tube, must on no account call things by their common names. The tiny conical hut, in which he sits waiting for the wild pigeons to come fluttering about him, goes by the high-sounding name of the Magic Prince, perhaps with a delicate allusion to its noble inmate. The calling-tube is known as Prince Distraction, doubtless on account of the extraordinary fascination it exercises on the birds. The decoy-pigeon receives the name of the Squatting Princess, and the rod with a noose at the end of it, which serves to catch the unwary birds, is disguised under the title of Prince Invitation. Everything, in fact, is on a princely scale, so far at least as words can make it so. The very nooses destined to be slipped over the necks or legs of the little struggling prisoners are dignified by the title of King Solomon's necklaces and armlets; and the trap into which the birds are invited to walk is variously described as King Solomon's Audience Chamber, or a Palace Tower, or an Ivory Hall carpeted with silver and railed with amalgam. What pigeon could resist these manifold attractions, especially when it is addressed by the respectful title of Princess Kapor or Princess Sarap or Princess Puding?[1521 - W. W. Skeat, op. cit. pp. 139 sq.] Again, the fisher-folk on the east coast of the Malay Peninsula, like their brethren in Scotland, are reluctant to mention the names of birds or beasts while they are at sea. All animals then go by the name of cheweh, a meaningless word which is believed not to be understood by the creatures to whom it refers. Particular kinds of animals are distinguished by appropriate epithets; the pig is “the grunting cheweh,” the buffalo is “the cheweh that says uak,” the snipe is “the cheweh that cries kek-kek,” and so on.[1522 - W. W. Skeat, op. cit. pp. 192 sq.] In this respect the fishermen of Patani Bay class together sea spirits, Buddhist monks, beasts, and reptiles; these are all cheweh and their common names may not be mentioned at sea. But, curiously enough, they lay no such embargo on the names of fish and birds, except the vulture and domestic fowls and ducks. At sea the vulture is named “bald head,” the tiger “striped,” the snake “weaver's sword,” the horse “fast,” and a species of monkey “long tail.” The human foot is called “tortoise,” and a Buddhist monk “yellow” on account of the colour of his robe. These Malay fishermen are at least as unwilling to speak of a Buddhist monk at sea as Scotch fishermen are to mention a minister in similar circumstances. If one of them mentions a monk, his mates will fall on him and beat him; whereas for other slips of the tongue they think it enough to throw a little bilge-water over the back of the transgressor and to say, “May the ill-luck be dismissed!” The use of this special language is even more obligatory by night than by day. On shore the fishermen make very merry over those lubberly landsmen who cannot talk correctly at sea.[1523 - N. Annandale, “Primitive Beliefs and Customs of the Patani Fishermen,” Fasciculi Malayenses, Anthropology, part i. (April 1903) pp. 84-86.] In like manner Achinese fishermen, in northern Sumatra, employ a special vocabulary when they are at sea. Thus they may not call a mountain a mountain, or mountain-high billows would swamp the boat; they refer to it as “high ground.” They may not speak of an elephant by its proper name of gadjah, but must call it pò meurah. If a man wishes to say that something is clear, he must not use the ordinary word for clear (lheuëh) because it bears the meaning also of “free,” “loose”; and the utterance of such a word might enable the fish to get free from the net and escape. Instead of lheuëh he must therefore employ the less dangerous synonym leungka. In like manner, we are told, among the fishermen of the north coast of Java whole lists of words might be compiled which are tabooed at sea and must be replaced by others.[1524 - C. Snouck Hurgronje, De Atjèhers (Batavia and Leyden, 1893-1894), i. 303.]

Names of things and animals tabooed in Sumatra, Nias, and Java.

In Sumatra the spirits of the gold mines are treated with as much deference as the spirits of the tin-mines in the Malay Peninsula. Tin, ivory, and the like may not be brought by the miners to the scene of their operations, for at the scent of such things the spirits of the mine would cause the gold to vanish. For the same reason it is forbidden to refer to certain things by their proper names, and in speaking of them the miners must use other words. In some cases, for example in removing the grains of the gold, a deep silence must be observed; no commands may be given or questions asked,[1525 - J. L. van der Toorn, “Het animisme bij den Minangkabauer der Padangsche Bovenlanden,” Bijdragen tot de Taal- Land- en Volkenkunde van Nederlandsch-Indië, xxxix. (1890) p. 100. As to the superstitions of gold-washers among the Gayos of Sumatra, see C. Snouck Hurgronje, Het Gajoland en zijne Bewoners (Batavia, 1903), pp. 361 sq.] probably because the removal of the precious metal is regarded as a theft which the spirits would punish if they caught the thieves in the act. Certainly the Dyaks believe that gold has a soul which seeks to avenge itself on men who dig the precious metal. But the angry spirit is powerless to harm miners who observe certain precautions, such as never to bathe in a river with their faces turned up stream, never to sit with their legs dangling, and never to tie up their hair.[1526 - M. T. H. Perelaer, Ethnographische Beschrijving der Dajaks (Zalt-Bommel, 1870), p. 215.] Again, a Sumatran who fancies that there is a tiger or a crocodile in his neighbourhood, will speak of the animal by the honourable title of “grandfather” for the purpose of propitiating the creature.[1527 - J. T. Nieuwenhuisen en H. C. B. von Rosenberg, “Verslag omtrent het eiland Nias,” Verhandelingen van het Bataviaasch Genootschap van Kunsten en Wetenschappen, xxx. (1863) p. 115. Compare W. Marsden, History of Sumatra, p. 292; T. J. Newbold, Account of the British Settlements in the Straits of Malacca, ii. 192 sq.] In the forest a Karo-Batak refers to a tiger as “Grandfather to whom the wood belongs,” “he with the striped coat,” or “the roving trap.”[1528 - J. E. Neumann, “Kemali, Pantang en Rèboe bij de Karo-Bataks,” Tijdschrift voor Indische Taal- Land- en Volkenkunde, xlviii. (1906) pp. 511 sq.] Among the Gayos of Sumatra it is forbidden to mention the name of small-pox in the house of a man who is suffering from the disease; and the words for ugly, red, stinking, unlucky, and so forth are forbidden under the same circumstances. The disease is referred to under the title of “prince of the averters of misfortune.”[1529 - C. Snouck Hurgronje, Het Gajoland en zijne Bewoners (Batavia, 1903), pp. 311 sq.] So long as the hunting season lasts, the natives of Nias may not name the eye, the hammer, stones, and in some places the sun by their true names; no smith may ply his trade in the village, and no person may go from one village to another to have smith's work done for him. All this, with the exception of the rule about not naming the eye and the sun, is done to prevent the dogs from growing stiff, and so losing the power of running down the game.[1530 - J. W. Thomas, “De jacht op het eiland Nias,” Tijdschrift voor Indische Taal- Land- en Volkenkunde, xxvi. (1880) p. 275.] During the rice-harvest in Nias the reapers seldom speak to each other, and when they do so, it is only in whispers. Outside the field they must speak of everything by names different from those in common use, which gives rise to a special dialect or jargon known as “field speech.” It has been observed that some of the words in this jargon resemble words in the language of the Battas of Sumatra.[1531 - L. N. H. A. Chatelin, “Godsdienst en bijgeloof der Niassers,” Tijdschrift voor Indische Taal- Land- en Volkenkunde, xxvi. (1880) p. 165; H. Sundermann, “Die Insel Nias und die Mission daselbst,” Allgemeine Missions-Zeitschrift, xi. (1884) p. 349; E. Modigliani, Un Viaggio a Nias (Milan, 1890), p. 593.] While these rice-reapers of Nias are at work they may not address each other by their names; they must use only such general terms as “man,” “woman,” “girl,” “old man,” and “old woman.” The word for “fire” may not pass their lips; instead of it they must use the word for “cold.” Other words tabooed to them during the harvest are the words for “smoke” and “stone.” If a reaper wishes to ask another for his whetstone to sharpen his knife, he must speak of it as a “fowl's egg.”[1532 - A. L. van Hasselt, “Nota, betreffende de rijstcultuur in de Residentie Tapanoeli,” Tijdschrift voor Indische Taal- Land- en Volkenkunde, xxxvi. (1893) pp. 525 sq. The Singhalese also call things by strange names when they are in the rice-fields. See A. A. Perera, “Glimpses of Singhalese Social Life,” Indian Antiquary, xxxii. (1903) p. 437.] In Java when people suspect that a tiger or crocodile is near, they avoid the use of the proper name of the beast and refer to him as “the old lord” or “grandfather.” Similarly, men who are watching a plantation to protect it from wild boars speak of these animals as “handsome men” (wong bagus). When after harvest the unhusked rice is to be brought into the barn, the barn is not called a barn but “the dark store-house.” Serious epidemics may not be mentioned by their true names; thus smallpox is called the “pretty girl” (lara bagus). The Javanese are particularly careful to eschew certain common words at evening or night. Thus the snake is then called a “tree-root”; the venomous centipede is referred to as the “red ant”; oil is spoken of as “water”; and so forth. And when leaves and herbs are being gathered for use in medicine they are regularly designated by other than their ordinary names.[1533 - G. A. J. Hazeu, “Kleine Bijdragen tot de Ethnografie en de Folk-lore van Java,” Tijdschrift voor Indische Taal- Land- en Volkenkunde, xlvii. (1903) pp. 291 sq.]

Names of things and animals tabooed in Celebes.

The Alfoors or Toradjas of Poso, in Celebes, are forbidden by custom to speak the ordinary language when they are at work in the harvest-field. At such times they employ a secret language which is said to agree with the ordinary one only in this, that in it some things are designated by words usually applied in a different sense, or by descriptive phrases or circumlocutions. Thus instead of “run” they say “limp”; instead of “hand” they say “that with which one reaches”; instead of “foot” they say “that with which one limps”; and instead of “ear” they say “that with which one hears.” Again, in the field-speech “to drink” becomes “to thrust forward the mouth”; “to pass by” is expressed by “to nod with the head”; a gun is “a fire-producer”; and wood is “that which is carried on the shoulder.” The writer who reports the custom was formerly of opinion that this secret language was designed to avoid attracting the attention of evil spirits to the ripe rice; but further enquiry has satisfied him that the real reason for adopting it is a wish not to frighten the soul of the rice by revealing to it the alarming truth that it is about to be cut, carried home, boiled, and eaten. It is just the words referring to these actions, he tells us, which are especially tabooed and replaced by others. Beginning with a rule of avoiding a certain number of common words, the custom has grown among people of the Malay stock till it has produced a complete language for use in the fields. In Minahassa also this secret field-speech consists in part of phrases or circumlocutions, of which many are said to be very poetical.[1534 - 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. 146-148; id., “Eenige ethnografische aanteekeningen omtrent de Toboengkoe en de Tomori,” ibid. xliv. (1900) pp. 228 sq.] But it is not only on the harvest field that the Toradja resorts to the use of a secret language from superstitious motives. In the great primaeval forest he feels ill at ease, for well he knows the choleric temper of the spirits who inhabit the giant trees of the wood, and that were he to excite their wrath they would assuredly pay him out in one way or other, it might be by carrying off his soul and so making him ill, it might be by crushing him flat under a falling tree. These touchy beings particularly dislike to hear certain words pronounced, and accordingly on his way through the forest the Toradja takes care to avoid the offensive terms and to substitute others for them. Thus he will not call a dog a dog, but refers to it as “the hairy one”; a buffalo is spoken of as “thick hide”; a cooking pot becomes “that which is set down”; the hair of the head is alluded to as “betel”; goats and pigs are “the folk under the house”; a horse is “long nose”; and deer are “denizens of the fell.” If he is rash or careless enough to utter a forbidden word in the forest, a short-tempered tree-spirit will fetch him such a bang on the head that the blood will spout from his nose and mouth.[1535 - N. Adriani und A. C. Kruijt, “Van Posso naar Mori,” Mededeelingen van wege het Nederlandsche Zendelinggenootschap, xliv. (1900) pp. 145 sq.] Again, when the weather is fine and the Toradja wishes it to continue so, he is careful not to utter the word “rain,” for if he did so the rain would fancy he was called for and would obligingly present himself. Indeed, in the district of Pakambia, which is frequently visited by heavy storms, the word “rain” may not be mentioned throughout the year lest it should provoke a tempest; the unmentionable thing is there delicately alluded to as “tree-blossoms.”[1536 - A. C. Kruijt, “Regen lokken en regen verdrijven bij de Toradja's van Midden Celebes,” Tijdschrift voor Indische Taal- Land- en Volkenkunde, xliv. (1901) p. 8; id., “Het rijk Mori,” Tijdschrift van het Koniklijk Nederlandsch Aardrijkskundig Genootschap, II. Serie, xvii. (1900) p. 464, note.]

Common words tabooed by East Indian mariners at sea.

When a Bugineese or Macassar man is at sea and sailing past a place which he believes to be haunted by evil spirits, he keeps as quiet as he can; but if he is obliged to speak he designates common things and actions, such as water, wind, fire, cooking, eating, the rice-pot, and so forth, by peculiar terms which are neither Bugineese nor Macassar, and therefore cannot be understood by the evil spirits, whose knowledge of languages is limited to these two tongues. However, according to another and later account given by the same authority, it appears that many of the substituted terms are merely figurative expressions or descriptive phrases borrowed from the ordinary language. Thus the word for water is replaced by a rare word meaning “rain”; a rice-pot is called a “black man”; boiled rice is “one who is eaten”; a fish is a “tree-leaf”; a fowl is “one who lives in a poultry hatch”; and an ape is a “tree-dweller.”[1537 - B. F. Matthes, Bijdragen tot de Ethnologie van Zuid-Celebes (The Hague, 1875), p. 107; id., “Over de âdá's of gewoonten der Makassaren en Boegineezen,” Verslagen en Mededeelingen der Koninklijke Akademie van Wetenschappen, Afdeeling Letterkunde, III. Reeks, ii. (Amsterdam, 1885) pp. 164 sq.] Natives of the island of Saleyer, which lies off the south coast of Celebes, will not mention the name of their island when they are making a certain sea-passage; and in sailing they will never speak of a fair wind by its proper name. The reason in both cases is a fear of disturbing the evil spirits.[1538 - H. E. D. Engelhard, “Mededeelingen over het eiland Saleijer,” Bijdragen tot de Taal- Land- en Volkenkunde van Neêrlandsch-Indië, Vierde Volgreeks, viii. (1884) p. 369.] When natives of the Sapoodi Archipelago, to the north-east of Java, are at sea they will never say that they are near the island of Sapoodi, for if they did so they would be carried away from it by a head wind or by some other mishap.[1539 - E. F. Jochim, “Beschrijving van den Sapoedi Archipel,” Tijdschrift voor Indische Taal- Land- en Volkenkunde, xxxvi. (1893) p. 361.] When Galelareese sailors are crossing over to a land that is some way off, say one or two days' sail, they do not remark on any vessels that may heave in sight or any birds that may fly past; for they believe that were they to do so they would be driven out of their course and not reach the land they are making for. Moreover, they may not mention their own ship, or any part of it. If they have to speak of the bow, for example, they say “the beak of the bird”; starboard is named “sword,” and larboard “shield.”[1540 - M. J. van Baarda, “Fabelen, Verhalen en Overleveringen der Galelareezen,” Bijdragen tot de Taal- Land- en Volkenkunde van Nederlandsch-Indië, xlv. (1895) p. 508.] The inhabitants of Ternate and of the Sangi Islands deem it very dangerous to point at distant objects or to name them while they are at sea. Once while sailing with a crew of Ternate men a European asked one of them the name of certain small islands which they had passed. The man had been talkative before, but the question reduced him to silence. “Sir,” he said, “that is a great taboo; if I told you we should at once have wind and tide against us, and perhaps suffer a great calamity. As soon as we come to anchor I will tell you the name of the islands.” The Sangi Islanders have, besides the ordinary language, an ancient one which is only partly understood by some of the people. This old language is often used by them at sea, as well as in popular songs and certain heathen rites.[1541 - S. D. van de Velde van Cappellan, “Verslag eener Bezoekreis naar de Sangi-eilanden,” Mededeelingen van wege het Nederlandsche Zendelinggenootschap, i. (1857) pp. 33, 35.] The reason for resorting to it on shipboard is to hinder the evil spirits from overhearing and so frustrating the plans of the voyagers.[1542 - A. C. Kruijt, “Een en ander aangaande het geestelijk en maatschappelijk leven van den Poso-Alfoer,” Mededeelingen van wege het Nederlandsche Zendelinggenootschap, xxxix. (1895) p. 148.] The Nufoors of Dutch New Guinea believe that if they were to mention the name of an island to which the bow of their vessel was pointing, they would be met by storm, rain, or mist which would drive them from their course.[1543 - Th. J. F. van Hasselt, “Gebruik van vermomde Taal door de Nufooren,” Tijdschrift voor Indische Taal- Land- en Volkenkunde, xlv. (1902) pp. 279 sq.]

Common words tabooed in Sunda, Borneo, and the Philippines.

In some parts of Sunda it is taboo or forbidden to call a goat a goat; it must be called a “deer under the house.” A tiger may not be spoken of as a tiger; he must be referred to as “the supple one,” “the one there,” “the honourable,” “the whiskered one,” and so on. Neither a wild boar nor a mouse may be mentioned by its proper name; a boar must be called “the beautiful one” (masculine) and the mouse “the beautiful one” (feminine). When the people are asked what would be the consequence of breaking a taboo, they generally say that the person or thing would suffer for it, either by meeting with a mishap or by falling ill. But some say they do not so much fear a misfortune as experience an indefinite feeling, half fear, half reverence, towards an institution of their forefathers. Others can assign no reason for observing the taboos, and cut enquiry short by saying that “It is so because it is so.”[1544 - K. F. Holle, “Snippers van den Regent van Galoeh,” Tijdschrift voor Indische Taal- Land- en Volkenkunde, xxvii. (1882) pp. 101 sq.] When the Kenyahs of Borneo are about to poison the fish of a section of the river with the tuba root, they always speak of the matter as little as possible and use the most indirect and fanciful modes of expression. Thus they will say, “There are many leaves fallen here,” meaning that there are many fish in the river. And they will not breathe the name of the tuba root; if they must refer to it, they call it pakat abong, where abong is the name of a strong-smelling root something like tuba, and pakat means “to agree upon”; so that pakat abong signifies “what we have agreed to call abong.” This concealment of the truth deceives all the bats, birds, and insects, which might otherwise overhear the talk of the men and inform the fish of the deep-laid plot against them.[1545 - Ch. Hose and W. McDougall, “The Relations between Men and Animals in Sarawak,” Journal of the Anthropological Institute, xxxi. (1902) p. 205; W. H. Furness, Home-life of Borneo Head-hunters (Philadelphia, 1902), pp. 17, 186 sq.] These Kenyahs also fear the crocodile and do not like to mention it by name, especially if one be in sight; they refer to the beast as “the old grandfather.”[1546 - Ch. Hose and W. McDougall, op. cit. p. 186.] When small-pox invades a village of the Sakarang Dyaks in Borneo, the people desert the place and take refuge in the jungle. In the daytime they do not dare to stir or to speak above a whisper, lest the spirits should see or hear them. They do not call the small-pox by its proper name, but speak of it as “jungle leaves” or “fruit” or “the chief,” and ask the sufferer, “Has he left you?” and the question is put in a whisper lest the spirit should hear.[1547 - Ch. Brooke, Ten Years in Sarawak (London, 1866), i. 208; Spenser St. John, Life in the Forests of the Far East,

i. 71 sq.] Natives of the Philippines were formerly prohibited from speaking of the chase in the house of a fisherman and from speaking of fishing in the house of a hunter; journeying by land they might not talk of marine matters, and sailing on the sea they might not talk of terrestrial matters.[1548 - Juan de la Concepcion, Historia general de Philipinas, i. (Manilla, 1788), p. 20. Compare J. Mallat, Les Philippines (Paris, 1846), i. 64.]

The avoidance of common words seems to be based on a fear of spirits and a wish to deceive them or elude their notice. Common words avoided by hunters and fowlers in order to deceive the beasts and birds.

When we survey the instances of this superstition which have now been enumerated, we can hardly fail to be struck by the number of cases in which a fear of spirits, or of other beings regarded as spiritual and intelligent, is assigned as the reason for abstaining in certain circumstances from the use of certain words.[1549 - On this subject Mr. R. J. Wilkinson's account of the Malay's attitude to nature (Malay Beliefs, London and Leyden, 1906, pp. 67 sq.) deserves to be quoted: “The practice of magic arts enters into every department of Malay life. If (as the people of the Peninsula believe) all nature is teeming with spiritual life, some spiritual weapon is necessary to protect man against possible ghostly foes. Now the chief and most characteristic weapon of the Malay in his fight against the invisible world is courtesy. The peasant will speak no evil of a tiger in the jungle or of an evil spirit within the limits of that spirit's authority… The tiger is the symbol of kingly oppression; still, he is royal and must not be insulted; he is the ‘shaggy-haired father’ or ‘grandfather’ of the traveller in the woods. Even the birds, the fish and the fruits that serve as human food are entitled to a certain consideration: the deer is addressed as a ‘prince,’ the coco-nut tree as a ‘princess,’ the chevrotin as ‘emperor of the jungle’ (shah alam di-rimba). In all this respect paid to unseen powers – for it is the soul of the animal or plant that is feared – there is no contemptible adulation or cringeing; the Malay believes that courtesy honours the speaker more than the person addressed.”] The speaker imagines himself to be overheard and understood by spirits, or animals, or other beings whom his fancy endows with human intelligence; and hence he avoids certain words and substitutes others in their stead, either from a desire to soothe and propitiate these beings by speaking well of them, or from a dread that they may understand his speech and know what he is about, when he happens to be engaged in that which, if they knew of it, would excite their anger or their fear. Hence the substituted terms fall into two classes according as they are complimentary or enigmatic; and these expressions are employed, according to circumstances, for different and even opposite reasons, the complimentary because they will be understood and appreciated, and the enigmatic because they will not. We can now see why persons engaged in occupations like fishing, fowling, hunting, mining, reaping, and sailing the sea, should abstain from the use of the common language and veil their meaning in strange words and dark phrases. For they have this in common that all of them are encroaching on the domain of the elemental beings, the creatures who, whether visible or invisible, whether clothed in fur or scales or feathers, whether manifesting themselves in tree or stone or running stream or breaking wave, or hovering unseen in the air, may be thought to have the first right to those regions of earth and sea and sky into which man intrudes only to plunder and destroy. Thus deeply imbued with a sense of the all-pervading life and intelligence of nature, man at a certain stage of his intellectual development cannot but be visited with fear or compunction, whether he is killing wild fowl among the stormy Hebrides, or snaring doves in the sultry thickets of the Malay Peninsula; whether he is hunting the bear in Lapland snows, or the tiger in Indian jungles, or hauling in the dripping net, laden with silvery herring, on the coast of Scotland; whether he is searching for the camphor crystals in the shade of the tropical forest, or extracting the red gold from the darksome mine, or laying low with a sweep of his sickle the yellow ears on the harvest field. In all these his depredations on nature, man's first endeavour apparently is by quietness and silence to escape the notice of the beings whom he dreads; but if that cannot be, he puts the best face he can on the matter by dissembling his foul designs under a fair exterior, by flattering the creatures whom he proposes to betray, and by so guarding his lips, that, though his dark ambiguous words are understood well enough by his fellows, they are wholly unintelligible to his victims. He pretends to be what he is not, and to be doing something quite different from the real business in hand. He is not, for example, a fowler catching pigeons in the forest; he is a Magic Prince or King Solomon himself[1550 - The character of King Solomon appears to be a favourite one with the Malay sorcerer when he desires to ingratiate himself with or lord it over the powers of nature. Thus, for example, in addressing silver ore the sage observes: —“If you do not come hither at this very momentYou shall be a rebel unto God,And a rebel unto God's Prophet Solomon,For I am God's Prophet Solomon.” —See W. W. Skeat, Malay Magic, p. 273. No doubt the fame of his wisdom has earned for the Hebrew monarch this distinction among the dusky wizards of the East.] inviting fair princesses into his palace tower or ivory hall. Such childish pretences suffice to cheat the guileless creatures whom the savage intends to rob or kill, perhaps they even impose to some extent upon himself; for we can hardly dissever them wholly from those forms of sympathetic magic in which primitive man seeks to effect his purpose by imitating the thing he desires to produce, or even by assimilating himself to it. It is hard indeed for us to realise the mental state of a Malay wizard masquerading before wild pigeons in the character of King Solomon; yet perhaps the make-believe of children and of the stage, where we see the players daily forgetting their real selves in their passionate impersonation of the shadowy realm of fancy, may afford us some glimpse into the workings of that instinct of imitation or mimicry which is deeply implanted in the constitution of the human mind.

Chapter VII. Our Debt To The Savage

General conclusion. Human gods, on whom the welfare of the community is believed to depend, are obliged to observe many rules to ensure their own safety and that of their people.

It would be easy to extend the list of royal and priestly taboos, but the instances collected in the preceding pages may suffice as specimens. To conclude this part of our subject it only remains to state summarily the general conclusions to which our enquiries have thus far conducted us. We have seen that in savage or barbarous society there are often found men to whom the superstition of their fellows ascribes a controlling influence over the general course of nature. Such men are accordingly adored and treated as gods. Whether these human divinities also hold temporal sway over the lives and fortunes of their adorers, or whether their functions are purely spiritual and supernatural, in other words, whether they are kings as well as gods or only the latter, is a distinction which hardly concerns us here. Their supposed divinity is the essential fact with which we have to deal. In virtue of it they are a pledge and guarantee to their worshippers of the continuance and orderly succession of those physical phenomena upon which mankind depends for subsistence. Naturally, therefore, the life and health of such a god-man are matters of anxious concern to the people whose welfare and even existence are bound up with his; naturally he is constrained by them to conform to such rules as the wit of early man has devised for averting the ills to which flesh is heir, including the last ill, death. These rules, as an examination of them has shewn, are nothing but the maxims with which, on the primitive view, every man of common prudence must comply if he would live long in the land. But while in the case of ordinary men the observance of the rules is left to the choice of the individual, in the case of the god-man it is enforced under penalty of dismissal from his high station, or even of death. For his worshippers have far too great a stake in his life to allow him to play fast and loose with it. Therefore all the quaint superstitions, the old-world maxims, the venerable saws which the ingenuity of savage philosophers elaborated long ago, and which old women at chimney corners still impart as treasures of great price to their descendants gathered round the cottage fire on winter evenings – all these antique fancies clustered, all these cobwebs of the brain were spun about the path of the old king, the human god, who, immeshed in them like a fly in the toils of a spider, could hardly stir a limb for the threads of custom, “light as air but strong as links of iron,” that crossing and recrossing each other in an endless maze bound him fast within a network of observances from which death or deposition alone could release him.

A study of these rules affords us an insight into the philosophy of the savage. Our debt to our savage forefathers.

Thus to students of the past the life of the old kings and priests teems with instruction. In it was summed up all that passed for wisdom when the world was young. It was the perfect pattern after which every man strove to shape his life; a faultless model constructed with rigorous accuracy upon the lines laid down by a barbarous philosophy. Crude and false as that philosophy may seem to us, it would be unjust to deny it the merit of logical consistency. Starting from a conception of the vital principle as a tiny being or soul existing in, but distinct and separable from, the living being, it deduces for the practical guidance of life a system of rules which in general hangs well together and forms a fairly complete and harmonious whole.[1551 - “The mind of the savage is not a blank; and when one becomes familiar with his beliefs and superstitions, and the complicated nature of his laws and customs, preconceived notions of his simplicity of thought go to the winds. I have yet to find that most apocryphal of beings described as the ‘unsophisticated African.’ We laugh at and ridicule his fetishes and superstitions, but we fail to follow the succession of ideas and effort of mind which have created these things. After most careful observations extending over nineteen years, I have come to the conclusion that there is nothing in the customs and fetishes of the African which does not represent a definite course of reasoning” (Rev. Thomas Lewis, “The Ancient Kingdom of Kongo,” The Geographical Journal, xix. (1902) p. 554). “The study of primitive peoples is extremely curious and full of surprises. It is twenty years since I undertook it among the Thonga and Pedi tribes of South Africa, and the further I advance, the more I am astonished at the great number, the complexity, and the profundity of the rites of these so-called savages. Only a superficial observer could accuse their individual or tribal life of superficiality. If we take the trouble to seek the reason of these strange customs, we perceive that at their base there are secret, obscure reasons, principles hard to grasp, even though the most fervent adepts of the rite can give no account of it. To discover these principles, and so to give a true explanation of the rites, is the supreme task of the ethnographer, – a task in the highest degree delicate, for it is impossible to perform it if we do not lay aside our personal ideas to saturate ourselves with those of primitive peoples” (Rev. H. A. Junod, “Les Conceptions physiologiques des Bantou sud-africains et leurs tabous,” Revue d'Ethnographie et de Sociologie, i. (1910) p. 126). These weighty words, the fruit of ripe experience, deserve to be pondered by those who fancy that the elaborate system of savage custom can have grown up instinctively without a correspondingly elaborate process of reasoning in the minds of its founders. We may not, indeed, always be able to discover the reason for which a particular custom or rite was instituted, for we are only beginning to understand the mind of uncivilised man; but all that we know of him tends to shew that his practice, however absurd it may seem to us, originated in a definite train of thought and for a definite and very practical purpose.] The flaw – and it is a fatal one – of the system lies not in its reasoning, but in its premises; in its conception of the nature of life, not in any irrelevancy of the conclusions which it draws from that conception. But to stigmatise these premises as ridiculous because we can easily detect their falseness, would be ungrateful as well as unphilosophical. We stand upon the foundation reared by the generations that have gone before, and we can but dimly realise the painful and prolonged efforts which it has cost humanity to struggle up to the point, no very exalted one after all, which we have reached. Our gratitude is due to the nameless and forgotten toilers, whose patient thought and active exertions have largely made us what we are. The amount of new knowledge which one age, certainly which one man, can add to the common store is small, and it argues stupidity or dishonesty, besides ingratitude, to ignore the heap while vaunting the few grains which it may have been our privilege to add to it. There is indeed little danger at present of undervaluing the contributions which modern times and even classical antiquity have made to the general advancement of our race. But when we pass these limits, the case is different. Contempt and ridicule or abhorrence and denunciation are too often the only recognition vouchsafed to the savage and his ways. Yet of the benefactors whom we are bound thankfully to commemorate, many, perhaps most, were savages. For when all is said and done our resemblances to the savage are still far more numerous than our differences from him; and what we have in common with him, and deliberately retain as true and useful, we owe to our savage forefathers who slowly acquired by experience and transmitted to us by inheritance those seemingly fundamental ideas which we are apt to regard as original and intuitive. We are like heirs to a fortune which has been handed down for so many ages that the memory of those who built it up is lost, and its possessors for the time being regard it as having been an original and unalterable possession of their race since the beginning of the world. But reflection and enquiry should satisfy us that to our predecessors we are indebted for much of what we thought most our own, and that their errors were not wilful extravagances or the ravings of insanity, but simply hypotheses, justifiable as such at the time when they were propounded, but which a fuller experience has proved to be inadequate. It is only by the successive testing of hypotheses and rejection of the false that truth is at last elicited. After all, what we call truth is only the hypothesis which is found to work best. Therefore in reviewing the opinions and practices of ruder ages and races we shall do well to look with leniency upon their errors as inevitable slips made in the search for truth, and to give them the benefit of that indulgence which we ourselves may one day stand in need of; cum excusatione itaque veteres audiendi sunt.

Note. Not To Step Over Persons And Things.[1552 - See above, pp. 159 (#x_11_i3)sq.]

The superstition that harm is done to a person or thing by stepping over him or it is very widely spread. Thus the Galelareese think that if a man steps over your fishing-rod or your arrow, the fish will not bite when you fish with that rod, and the game will not be hit by that arrow when you shoot it. They say it is as if the implements merely skimmed past the fish or the game.[1553 - M. J. van Baarda, “Fabelen, Verhalen en Overleveringen der Galelareezen,” Bijdragen tot de Taal- Land- en Volkenkunde van Nederlandsch-Indië, xlv. (1895) p. 513.] Similarly, if a Highland sportsman saw a person stepping over his gun or fishing-rod, he presumed but little on that day's diversion.[1554 - John Ramsay, Scotland and Scotsmen in the Eighteenth Century (Edinburgh, 1888), ii. 456.] When a Dacota had bad luck in hunting, he would say that a woman had been stepping over some part of the animal which he revered.[1555 - H. R. Schoolcraft, Indian Tribes, ii. 175.] Amongst many South African tribes it is considered highly improper to step over a sleeper; if a wife steps over her husband he cannot hit his enemy in war; if she steps over his assegais, they are from that time useless, and are given to boys to play with.[1556 - J. Macdonald, Light in Africa (London, 1890), p. 209.] The Baganda think that if a woman steps over a man's weapons, they will not aim straight and will not kill, unless they have been first purified.[1557 - Rev. J. Roscoe, in Journal of the Anthropological Institute, xxxii. (1902) p. 59.] The Nandi of British East Africa hold that to step over a snare or trap is to court death and must be avoided at all risks; further, they are of opinion that if a man were to step over a pot, he would fall to pieces whenever the pot were broken.[1558 - A. C. Hollis, The Nandi, pp. 24 sq., 36. In these cases the harm is thought to fall on the person who steps over, not on the thing which is stepped over.] The people of the Lower Congo deem that to step over a person's body or legs will cause ill-luck to that person and they are careful not to do so, especially in passing men who are holding a palaver. At such times a passer-by will shuffle his feet along the ground without lifting them in order that he may not be charged with bringing bad luck on any one.[1559 - Rev. J. H. Weeks, “Customs of the Lower Congo People,” Folk-lore, xx. (1909) p. 474.] On the other hand among the Wajagga of East Africa grandchildren leap over the corpse of their grandfather, when it is laid out, expressing a wish that they may live to be as old as he.[1560 - B. Gutmann, “Trauer und Begräbnissitten der Wadschagga,” Globus, lxxxix. (1906) p. 199.] In Laos hunters are careful never to step over their weapons.[1561 - E. Aymonier, Voyage dans le Laos, i. (Paris, 1895) p. 144.] The Tepehuanes of Mexico believe that if anybody steps over them, they will not be able to kill another deer in their lives.[1562 - C. Lumholtz, Unknown Mexico (London, 1903), i. 435.] Some of the Australian aborigines are seriously alarmed if a woman steps over them as they lie asleep on the ground.[1563 - E. M. Curr, The Australian Race, i. 50.] In the tribes about Maryborough in Queensland, if a woman steps over anything that belongs to a man he will throw it away.[1564 - A. W. Howitt, Native Tribes of South-East Australia, p. 402.] In New Caledonia it is thought to endanger a canoe if a woman steps over the cable.[1565 - Father Lambert, Mœurs et superstitions des Néo-Calédoniens, pp. 192 sq.] Everything that a Samoyed woman steps over becomes unclean and must be fumigated.[1566 - P. von Stenin, “Das Gewohnheitsrecht der Samojeden,” Globus, lx. (1891) p. 173.] Malagasy porters believe that if a woman strides over their poles, the skin will certainly peel off the shoulders of the bearers when next they take up the burden.[1567 - J. Richardson, in Antananarivo Annual and Madagascar Magazine, Reprint of the First Four Numbers (Antananarivo, 1885), p. 529; id., Reprint of the Second Four Numbers (Antananarivo, 1896), p. 296; J. Sibree, The Great African Island, p. 288; compare De Flacourt, Histoire de la grande isle Madagascar (Paris, 1658), p. 99.] The Cherokees fancy that to step over a vine causes it to wither and bear no fruit.[1568 - J. Mooney, “Myths of the Cherokee,” Nineteenth Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology, pt. i. (Washington, 1900) p. 424.] The Ba-Pendi and Ba-thonga of South Africa think that if a woman steps over a man's legs, they will swell and he will not be able to run.[1569 - H. A. Junod, “Les Conceptions physiologiques des Bantou sud-africains,” Revue d'Ethnographie et de Sociologie, i. (1910) p. 138, note

.] According to the South Slavonians, the most serious maladies may be communicated to a person by stepping over him, but they can afterwards be cured by stepping over him in the reverse direction.[1570 - F. S. Krauss, Volksglaube und religiöser Brauch der Südslaven, p. 52.] The belief that to step over a child hinders it from growing is found in France, Belgium, Germany, Austria, and Syria; in Syria, Germany, and Bohemia the mischief can be remedied by stepping over the child in the opposite direction.[1571 - See L. F. Sauvé, Folk-lore des Hautes-Vosges, p. 226, compare pp. 219 sq.; E. Monseur, Le Folk-lore Wallon, p. 39; A. Wuttke, Der deutsche Volksaberglaube,

§ 603; J. W. Wolf, Beiträge zur deutschen Mythologie, i. p. 208, § 42; J. A. E. Köhler, Volksbrauch, etc., im Voigtlande, p. 423; A. Kuhn und W. Schwartz, Norddeutsche Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche, p. 462, § 461; E. Krause, “Abergläubische Kuren und sonstiger Aberglaube in Berlin,” Zeitschrift für Ethnologie, xv. (1883) p. 85; R. H. Kaindl, Die Huzulen, p. 5; J. V. Grohmann, Aberglauben und Gebräuche aus Böhmen und Mähren, p. 109, §§ 798, 799; Eijüb Abêla, “Beiträge zur Kenntniss abergläubischer Gebräuche in Syrien,” Zeitschrift des deutschen Palästina-Vereins, vii. (1884) p. 81; compare B. Chemali, “Naissance et premier âge au Liban,” Anthropos, v. (1910) p. 741.]

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