Rensselaer Union and Jasper Republican, Volume 8, Number 32, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 April 1876 — A Hindu Devil-Dance. [ARTICLE]

A Hindu Devil-Dance.

Night, starry and beautiful, -with a broad, low moon seen through palms. A still, solemn night; with few sounds to mar the silence, save the deep, muffled Worn ®£ breakers bursting on the .coast full eight miles distant. A lonely hut, a huge, solitary banyan tree, grim and gloomy. All round spread interminable sands, the only vegetation on which is composed of lofty palmyras, and a few stunted thorn-trees and wild figs. In the midst.of this wilderness rises, specter-like, that aged, enormous tree, the banyan, haunted by a most ruthless she-devil. Cholera is abroad in the land, and the natives know that it is «he who has sent them the dreaded pestilence. The whole neighborhood wakes to the determination that the malignant power must be immediately propitiated in the most solemn jMld effectual mamxet. Tlve. night arrives; out of village, ana hamlet, and hut pours the wild crowd of men, and women, and children. In vaih the Brahmins tinkle their bells at the neighboring temple; the people know what they want, and the deity which they must reverence is supreme just now. On flows the crowd to that gloomy island in the star-lit waste —that weird, hoary banyan. The circle is formed; the fire is lit; the offerings are got ready—goats, and fowls, and rice, and pulse, and sugar, and ghee, and honey, and white chaplets of oleander-blnssoms, - and jasmine-buds. The tomtoms are beaten more loudly and rapidly, the hum of rustic converse is stilled, and a deep hush of awe-struck expectancy holds the motley assemblage. Now the low, rickety door of the hut is quickly dashed open. The devil-dancer staggers out. Between the hut and the ebon shadow of the sacred banyan lies a strip of moonlit sand; and as he passes this, devotees can clearly see their priest. He is a tall, haggard, pensive man, with deep-sunken eyes and matted hair. His forehead is smeared with ashes, and there are streaks of vermilion and saffron over his face. He wears a high, conical cap, white, with a red tassel. A long white robe shrouds him from neck to ankle. On it are worked, in red silk, representations of the goddess of small pox, murder and, cholera. Round his ankles arfe massive silver bangles. In his right hand he holds a staff of spear, that jingles harshly every time the ground is struck by it. The same hand also holds a bow, which, when the strings are pulled or struca, emits a dull, booming sound. In his left hand the

devil-priest carries bis sacrificial knife, shaped like a sickle, with quaint devices engraved on its blade. The dancer. With uncertain, staggering motion, reels slowly into the center of the crowd and then seats himself. The assembled people show him the offerings they intend to present, but he appears wholly unconscious. He croons an Indian lay in a low, dreamy voice, with drooped eyelids and head sunken on his breast. He sways slowly to and fro, from side to side. Look! You can see his fingers twitch nervouriv.j His head begins to wag in a strange, uneasy fashion. His sides heave and quiver, and huge drops of perspiration exude from his skin. The tom-toms are beaten faster, the pipes and reeds wail out more loudly. There is a sudden yell, a stinging, stunning cry, an ear-piercing shriek, a hideous, abominable gobblegobble of hellish laughter, and the devildancer has sprang to his feet, with eyes protruding, >ipouth foaming, chest heaving, 'muscled quivering, and outstretched arms swollen and straining as if they were crucified! Now, ever and anon, the quick, sharp words are jerked out of the saliva-choked mouth: “I am God! I am the true God!" Then all around him, since he and no idol is regarded as the present deity, reeks the blood of sacrifice. The devotees crowd round to offer oblations and to solicit answers to their questions. “Shall I die of cholera during this visitation?" asks a gray-headed farmer of the neighborhood. “O . God, bless this child, and heal it,” cries a poor mother from an adjoining hamlet, as she holds forth her diseased babe toward the gyrating priest. Shrieks, vows, imprecations, prayers and exclamations of thankful praise rise up, all blended together in one infernal hubbub. Above all rise the ghastly, guttural laughter of the devildancer, and his stentorian howls—“ I am" God! lam the only true God!” He cuts and hacks and hews himself, and not very unfrequently kills himself, there and then. His answers to the queries put to him are generally incoherent. Sometimes he is sullenly silent, and sometimes, whilst the blood from his selt-inflicted wounds mingles freely with that of his sacrifice, he is most benign, and showers his divine favors of health and prosperity all round him. Hours pass by. The trembling crowd stand rooted to the spot. Suddenly the dancer gives a great bound in the air; whenhe descends iie.ls motionless. The fiendish look has vanished from his eyes. His demoniacal laughter iPstill. He speaks to this and to that neighbor quietly and reasonably. He lays aside his garb, washes his face at the nearest rivulet, and walks soberly home, a modest, well-conducted man.— Contemporary lievieie.