  The beliefs and superstitions of the Sakais?—?Metempsychosis?—?The Evil Spirit?—?Superstition among savages and ignorance among civilized people?—?The two sources of life?—?The wind ?—?The ALÀ priest and physician?—?The scientific vigil?—?Venerable imposture!?—?TENAC and CINTOK The good notary Chirichillo, born in the fervid fancy of Ippolito Nievo firmly believed that the many tribulations of his modest life would be compensated one day by God, and that this recompense would be a second birth, when he would relive in another person, under another name and under a luckier star. Although less learned and although they have but a vague intuition of the idea relating to the soul In no case will a Sakai willingly kill, wound or lay a trap for the animals he thinks consecrated by the indwelling of a spirit, this is so true that even whilst preparing one of the usual traps for catching big game he will turn himself towards the thickest part of the forest and murmur, «this is not for thee» to warn the tiger to be on his guard. And should one happen to be caught it causes real grief to the Sakai who you may be sure would give it back its liberty at once if he had not found it dead or did not fear to be killed himself as soon as it was free. The Sakai does not believe in the natural death of a person but attributes the decease to the spell of the Evil Spirit who is continually on the watch to play his wicked tricks. So ready is he to do harm that he even slips into the little holes made in their darts thus carrying death where they strike, otherwise the poison would not have the force to kill. This is the superstition that inspires every sort of terror in the inhabitants of the jungle and which renders it so difficult to approach them and so dangerous to disturb the serenity of their simple minds. The wind, the thunder-storms, the violent hurricanes that frequently invade the forest, bringing destruction and fear in their course are the vehicles used by this Evil Spirit to declare open warfare against the frightened savages. When the clouds begin to gather thick and ominously, and first with a distant roar and then with the fury and the voice of a hurricane, the wind sweeps fiercely on, «Go away and leave us alone! We have not harmed thee, so do not harm us!». So they implore and imprecate, turning themselves into the ugliest and fiercest creatures they can, to frighten the evil spirits that they believe have come against them on the outspread wings of the storm. To the wild cries, arrow shots and loud noise of the bamboos, the mothers add an exorcism. They burn locks of their little ones' hair and disperse the ashes to the wind whilst the AlÀ energetically spits. And in civilized Italy is there not a superstition very like this of the poor savages? I refer to the odd custom still observed in the country, or at least in some of the villages (and which not so very long ago was put into practice also in towns) of trying to arrest a heavy thunder storm, by the tocsin, the deep noted ringing increasing the general alarm amongst the timid of the place. The women too, will go to the door and rattle together the shovel and tongs just as their Sakai sisters beat their bamboos, and olive branches (that previously have received the priest's benediction) are burnt with incense These are superstitions that vary a little in form but are exactly equivalent in the substance and show how much remains in us of primitive ignorance and how our boasted civilization is still bound to the antique customs and childish beliefs of the uncivilized, over whom we sing the glory of our own triumph. The Sakais also admit the existence of a Good Spirit but precisely because he is good, so much so as never to reveal himself, they do not deem it necessary to bother him. To the Good Spirit the Sakais oppose in their mind, the Evil Spirit exercising his empire upon the souls of their ancestors. To him they make many and different exorcisms and supplications, with the hope not to be molested by him after death if they keep good. Such a belief may be considered as a kind of demonclatry. To learn thoroughly the beliefs of a people still in a savage state, and who are totally without any written guide to their faith, would be indeed a difficult undertaking. First of all they always fear that a stranger, particularly if white, brings with him a whole legion of bad spirits, and secondly because they are extremely jealous of their superstitions and are afraid of incurring evil by revealing them to others. It must also be considered that the Sakais (like all the other peoples to be found on the same level of intellectual development) have ideas so fragmentary and undetermined about religious matters that they are quite incapable of giving an explicit description of their spiritual feelings and convictions. It is only by living amongst them for a long time in confidence and Wilken so writes in his book Animism: "With all the peoples in a primitive natural state nearly every daily event, every illness, every misfortune, every phenomenon, when not attributed to the souls of their dead, has a special spirit as the author. Lakes, seas, rivers, springs, mountains, caverns, trees, bushes, villages, towns, houses, roads, air, sky, the ground in under, in short all nature and the principal things they see, are, in their opinion, populated by supernatural beings. I need hardly say that not all the innumerable spirits in whom they believe have the same importance in their minds and therefore are not all venerated to the same extent. In the animist's cult fear reigns over every other sentiment, such as gratitude, trust, devotion, etc., and the spirits that inspire the most fear are those invocated with the most fervour; in this way the bad spirits are installed in the place of the good ones". We see then that the Sakais form no exception to this summary description of Mr. Wilken's. They believe that only their sorcerers have the faculty of beholding spirits which satisfactorily explains to them the strange fact that they are always invisible to other eyes. For the rest, though, the Sakais, like all those on the same par in intellectual capacity, do not trouble their heads at all over whatever natural phenomena. He feels deep veneration for the sun and water as being the two great sources of Life; he venerates also From force of habit he does not wonder at the change of day into night and the different phases of the moon but he is seized with great terror when an eclipse of the sun or moon takes place. He weeps and despairs, making horrible noises to put to flight the accursed spirit that is devouring one or other of the heavenly bodies, and as soon as the eclipse in over, he seems mad with joy that the mahgis (sun) and getcheck (moon) have got the better of their enemy. He is equally overcome with fright at the appearance of a rainbow, or at a shock of earthquake. The Sakais have no idols of any kind, but they have great faith in the amulets which they make themselves by incising upon their combs and hair-pins (as before written) the form of certain plants, fruits, leaves and roots that they are fully persuaded are possessed of prodigious virtue. In fact when a storm is approaching and the wind begins to agitate the forest, before commencing their usual invocations, both men and women hasten to stick in their hair all their combs and hairpins with the firm conviction that the wind, blowing upon these miraculous carvings will lose its power to do them harm. Trap for big game. p. 184. Here it must be observed that, apart from the superstitious character of the fear the Sakais (especially The impetuous currents of air coming from below often bring amongst them the germs of various infections and in particular malarial fevers. The poor natives in their ignorance of this, when they see their dear ones fall ill and often die after the wind's raging believe that it has brought into their village and left there, an invisible enemy. The AlÀ, sorcerer, physician, and magician of the local superstitions does all he can to keep unshaken the belief in spirits and exorcism. He fulfils the functions of his two-fold office with all the ignorance and the deception which is possible to him; ignorance, because he shares with the others a sincere terror of the Evil Spirit, and deception because he makes the others think that he can see the dreaded Being and has a certain power over him by means of words and gestures. He is, upon a close and vigorous analysis, nothing but a vulgar swindler who obtains some sort of advantage by his artefices and succeeds in over-ruling his own people by giving advice which is often sought and always followed. The AlÀ is generally the son of an AlÀ, a circumstance that might lead someone, who is fond of similar studies, to make accurate researches in order to ascertain if imposture should be considered as a hereditary disease. When the Evil Spirit, notwithstanding the cabalistic signs and mysterious words that proclaim the AlÀ's prerogative in resisting and defeating him, has overcome and killed him, the corpse is not buried but is placed in an upright position between the roots of a tree not An old tradition, which I have managed with difficulty to piece together from fragments unconsciously dropped now and then, pretends that ab antiquo a covenant was made between the tigers and sorcerers that after one of the latter had been dead a week his soul should enter a feline body. If a son of the deceased AlÀ wishes to succeed to his father's dignity, he must, at the end of the seven days established, go alone to keep watch over the corpse, taking with him a sort of incense-pan in which he burns a great quantity of perfumed resin in honour of the dead (an honour that is most opportune for his own nostrils!). He passes the night in this way, or it is believed that he does, for nobody sets himself the task of spying his actions or of learning something about the night's proceedings fearing that evil would overtake him in consequence. Whilst still engaged in this sanitary act, the tiger, animated by the soul of the defunct sorcerer, presents itself to the man who is engrossed in his scientific vigil and feigns to spring upon him to tear him to pieces. But he continues to keep alight the sweet-smelling resin and does not betray his inward perturbation or give the slightest movement of fear, which would, without emission, cost him his life. Then the terrible scene changes; the wild beast suddenly disappears and encircled by a soft light two beautiful fairies come forward to teach the new AlÀ the occult science of his chosen ministry including cabalistic words and medical art. The two elves then become the familiar spirits of the sorcerer who is in this manner consecrated. No witness is allowed to be present. No profane eye may see those two good spirits. The succession of a son to his father in the office of AlÀ is not obligatory but all the Sakais wish it to be so as otherwise the soul of the dead man would always remain in the body of a tiger and treasures of wisdom and power would be lost to the tribe he had belonged to. Not all the villages have the fortune to possess an AlÀ of their own who—by the way—does not differ in his domestic life from any of the poor mortals around him. He has a wife, and children, makes poisons, chews tobacco and sirih, sleeps and goes out shooting. Those settlements that have no AlÀ in their midst go in search of one in the nearest encampment and the physician-priest responds quickly to the invitation by hastening to the spot indicated. There being no ritual in the Sakai ceremonies, the simple functions of the AlÀ are very limited. He has to mumble in an unintelligible manner mysterious words (the meaning of which he does not know himself) when a poisonous mixture is being boiled in order to render its venomous virtue more efficacious. He makes exorcisms against the evil spirits when the wind arises or a heavy storm breaks or he is called to visit a sick person. In the latter case duties are merged in those of the physician's for whilst preparing some remedies with herbs possessing medicinal properties (of which he knows very few out of the multitude that grows in the Malai forests) he proceeds to exercise the authority This act is called the tay nak. He first asks the sufferer where the pain is, then making a sort of brush with some palm leaves he holds it in left hand. The right he closes loosely and lays it on the place that aches, puts his mouth to the opening left through the lightly closed fingers and begins to pull in his breath as hard as he can. Sometimes he is able in this way to draw out the demon which has caused the illness, from the patient's body into his hand and drives it away by energetically beating it with the brush. The sorcerer is aware if the spirit has come out by a very pale light, which only he can see, though! But if the malady is a serious one this cure fails, a sure proof that the spirit is one of the most dreaded class and must therefore be heroically fought by means of the chintok, as follows. The village in which the afflicted person lives is closed in by numerous traps, and planted all round with poisoned arrows so that nobody can come near, even if someone were to succeed in crossing that original cordon sanitaire without any fatal consequence he would most certainly be killed inside it as it is feared that another evil spirit may be imported by an outsider, in aid of the one they are trying to get rid of. Over the body of the infirm they form a canopy of medicinal herbs; the AlÀ and the company present paint themselves in the most horrible manner possible and as soon as it is quite dark (any sort of light is absolutely forbidden) they dispose themselves around the invalid and begin to madly beat their big bamboo canes. Their frenzy and the noise they make cannot be described; it makes one shudder, and the sound can be heard several miles off. Abandoned because of contagious disease. p. 193. The diabolical concert lasts until the garrulous harbingers of the sun announce the dawn but is repeated after sunset for seven days during which period only the men are permitted to go into the forest in search of food. If on the seventh day the patient is still alive he is left in peace unless a relapse should render another night of music necessary, and if he dies it is believed that the malignant spirit would not depart without taking the soul of his victim with him. The most frequent illnesses to which the Sakais are subject are rheumatic complaints and very heavy colds which not rarely turn into severe bronchial and pulmonary ailments. Both are due to the cold at night against which they take no pains at all to protect themselves. Their huts shelter them from the rain but not from the air. Some contagious skin diseases are also prevalent amongst them. Directly somebody is seized with this malady a tree is selected at some distance from the settlement up which a little bower is hurriedly made and the person attacked is placed there and left with a little food at hand. Next day the relatives go to see if he or she is living and call out their demands, in a loud voice, a long way off. If there is a movement or an answer they go nearer and throw up some food but if there is no sign of life they hasten back and leave the corpse to decompose in the bower that now serves as a sepulchre. When the sufferer has breathed its last all the people in the village unite in making grand lamentations. They cry, moan and howl worse than at the proverbial Irish funeral, they blacken their faces with charcoal and daub it with other colours to frighten away the bad spirit whilst the family crowd round the dead body and let their tears flow freely, exclaiming: "Alas! Look at us, don't leave us! Who will take care of us now! Who will defend us? Thou has departed before us and we shall follow thee". The first moments of grief over they quickly destroy the hut visited by Death, then taking up the corpse they carry it into a thick part of the forest. Here a grave is dug, from five to six feet deep and the body is placed in it, sometimes lying on its back, and sometimes in a sitting posture but always with its face turned towards the west. Some tobacco, betel and personal objects of the deceased are put near and then it is covered up with the ground. Sometimes these articles are strewn on the top of the grave and sometimes too instead of interring the corpse it is laid upon pieces of wood placed horizontally across the branches of a large tree, close to the trunk. But whether buried or not, for seven days the dead person's relatives carry water, fruit, tobacco and sirih to the spot, over or under the last resting-place of their lost one, taking care to always keep a bright fire burning within the vicinity. It is however with fear and trembling that this duty is performed and they regularly implore: "Here is thy portion, but don't hurt us!" Tomb of a woman. p. 194. For the sake of truth, though, I must say that the grief of parents for a child is not so soon cancelled, for I have seen some moved to tears at the remembrance of one who had been dead perhaps for many seasons. The immediate consequence of a Sakai's death is the forsaking of the village by all the survivors for fear that the evil spirit which has bereaved them of a kinsman may do the same with another. Then follows the march in search of a desirable spot, as I have already described. Taking the children and the little domestic goods they possess upon their shoulders they troop away seeking suitable ground for the erection of their new huts. The Elder, as head of the immense family, gives the signal for stopping where he thinks best and if there is an AlÀ in their midst he consults with him about the choice of position. When the site seems favourable a fire is quickly lighted and if the smoke goes up straight they settle there otherwise they continue their wanderings for the Sakai thinks that his whereabouts will be betrayed if the smoke is dispersed in the forest and that it will serve as a guide to some bad spirit—eager to do harm—that will cast its fatal influence over the company fleeing from the cruel spell of another. Once the decision is made, with wonderful rapidity trees, and bushes are cut down and the huts are raised. As in civilized countries. Death amongst the Sakais exacts an exterior manifestation of mourning, with this All ornaments have to be put aside; ear-rings, bracelets, necklaces, nasal sticks, flowers, tattooing etc, for a period of time determined by the Elder but generally for not less than six months. Those in mourning are rigorously prohibited to sing, play, dance, marry and even (quite a Lenten sin) to eat fish and meat on the some day. The Sakais observe all these prescriptions with the greatest strictness and are scandalized should any of them be infringed before the appointed time. Whoever violates them is judged a heartless being and if a woman loses all the consideration that was hers before. The duration of mourning varies according to relationship. That for a father or a mother is the same, but it is shorter for brothers and sisters and for little children there is none at all. In this respect the Sakais are not dissimilar to their civilized fellow-beings who measure their grief by the black clothes they wear and at the demise of a baby, notwithstanding its parents' desolation, make the church-bells ring out the liveliest tunes. When a little Sakai opens its eyes to the light of this world no religious ceremony greets its arrival. The woman who is about to become a mother separates herself from the rest of the family and retires by herself to a hut apart, where the floor is very high. Nobody assists her at her confinement because there is perhaps no other event in the existence of a Sakai Grave of a Sakai man. p. 194. It is always feared that by entering the cabin the smell of the child may be carried into the forest by means of which the Evil Spirit would be able to trace it out and do it some mischief. And for the same reason the newly-made mother dare not have contact with any of the adults who go into the jungle to hunt or for other purposes, but has food and water taken her by the children. It is superfluous to add that for a given time before and after a confinement the presence of a stranger in the village is not tolerated, worse still if he is a white man. The AlÀ, seconded by all, both males and females, is inflexible about this, asserting that it would be the death of the babe, and it is a prudent thing to accept the veto with a good grace and to obey the sorcerer's orders without hesitation. Sometimes a stranger is not even allowed to look upon a woman who is in an interesting state, as it once happened to me. Another time upon arriving at a village where a child had been born a few hours before, I was flatly refused hospitality, some Sakais preferring to accompany me a long way off and there erect a hut for my use on the formal understanding that I should not for any motive whatever attempt to approach the settlement. Had I not kept to this condition I should probably have been killed. One cannot reason with terror. The hut in which the poor woman is fulfilling the noblest of Nature's missions is jealously guarded by day and by night. The floor of the hut does not touch the ground that the odour of excrements may not penetrate into the earth and proclaim to the Evil Spirit: Here a babe is born! The mother herself, with extreme caution places everything of this sort in vessels of bamboo which she hangs high up on the bough of a tree. There the torrid sun quickly dries it all up and the smell emanating from it being diffused in the upper air the spirit cannot find out the sick woman or her child. As soon as the period of gestation commences neither the woman nor her husband must eat the flesh of monkey or serpent in order not to transfer to the unborn child the tendencies of a quadruped or reptile. They must also abstain from eating fish and meat on the same day and are obliged to be very careful not to enter a hut whilst it rains, this being always a very bad omen but especially so when an increase is expected in the family. Another very bad sign is when the cep pluÌ sings near the encampment. The Sakais consider it quite as unlucky as the grating screech of the night owl (birds kept in awe by the Sakais as being in familiarity with the Evil Spirit) on the roof of a house, or the spilling of salt is believed to be in many countries we know. A few days before her confinement the woman picks up some leaves of the bakaÙ which have fallen to the ground and makes a decoction with them. She drinks a little every day, continuing the cure even after child-birth. I do not know the wherefore of this but the women seem to think it exercises a particular effect upon them at this period. I have never been able to understand the reason of such a practice but believe that it is inspired by some superstition or hygienic rule of the natives. The fruit of the buÀ kaluna is sweet but has also a rather tart flavour. After seven days have passed the newly made mother leaves the hut and makes abundant ablutions that have the same character and scope as the religious duty imposed upon the Israelite women; that of respect for elementary hygiene. From this moment the wife may return to her husband but she is not allowed to go into the forest and is obliged to wear upon her stomach a hot stone, which serves her as a cure and exorcism. She returns to her faithful mate but she does not abandon her child whose separation from all other human beings, including its own father, cannot last for less than six months. The birth and death of a Sakai, as here seen, is devoid of every rite or ceremony, as in the case of matrimony or divorce and do not require even the intervention of the AlÀ. The fact of their being strictly forbidden, when kindling a fire, to lift their eyes from it until the wood has been well ignited and smoke proceeds from it would suggest the idea that there is either a superstition attached to this operation or that fire is also an object of veneration with them. But this concentration of the The only thing in connection with this custom I have succeeded in ascertaining is that the Sakais have no particular cult for the Sacred Fire like the priests of Baal the Brahmins in India and the Vestals of Rome but appreciate it as a means of cooking their food, preparing their poisons, of warming them during the night and of keeping wild beasts far from their huts. And I was convinced of this the first time I gave them matches and taught them their use. Their wonder was mixed with satisfaction but had there been any pronounced religious sentiment they would have rejected the modern innovation and continued the old method of making fire. I have here given a rough idea of the superstitions and beliefs of the Sakais as best I have been able to understand them from close observation and words inadvertently let fall now and then. They may be briefly summed up thus: a supreme terror of Evil spirits; a vague principle of the soul's transmigration (a strange degeneration from the primitive conception of the Pythagorean theory). The people of the jungle are still under the thick shade of cerebral inertia. They have not yet seen the swift, bright light of a first doubt flash across the darkness of their brain giving to it a shock of unsuspected vibrations. As yet no glorious Prometheus has arisen amongst those primitive creatures far whom the Meglio oprando obliar, senza indagarlo, Quest'enorme mister dell' universo! The Sakais have no real religion; they only have fear for everything they do not understand or cannot. And yet in the practice of morality they are much more forward than other uncivilized and even civilized peoples. Footnotes: Better by work to forget, without studying it, This tremendous mystery of the Universe. |
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