two figures

two more clay figures like those destroyed by the horse. He then ordered the spider [1] to guard the figures against the horse. The spider wove its net round the two clay figures in such a way that the horse could not destroy them again. Then Singbōngā imparted life to the became the first human beings. Lūtkūm Hāṛām and Lūtkūm Būṛhi. characteristic of savage myth, the destruction of the Asurs by Singbōngā names Lūtkům Hārām and Lütkům Buria as the old Munda couple in whose hut Singbōngā had accepted service as a field-labourer in the disguise of a scabby boy. [2]

two figures which thus They were called respectively With the inconsistency Mundari legend of the

2.Why Singbongā went to live in the sky.

Barnda was the elder of the two brothers, and Singbonga the younger; and they had also a sister by the name of Nāgē-Era. The three at first lived together in the same house but subsequently separated. And this is how the separation was brought about. The brothers were great hunters and always carried about with them a fierce hawk, a golden club and a golden basket. One day after they had proceeded some distance from their house with their hawk, they were overtaken on the road by a heavy shower of rain. To protect themselves against the rain, they took shelter under a wide-spreading tamarind tree. In those days tamarind trees had large leaves; but yet this tree could not afford them complete protection. At this the two brothers were highly chagrined and struck at the tamarind leaves till the leaves were split into numerous minute divisions. Thenceforth tamarind leaves have been so small as we see them now.

Singbōnga then ran straight home, but Barndā sought refuge from the rain in the hut of a Lohar (blacksmith). Now it so happened that a little water dripped down on Barnda from the

[] The Bir-hors and the Asurs of Chōtā Nagpur substitute the dog for the spider. The dog would bark at the horse and frighten him away whenever he attempted to approach the clay figures.

[] For the legend of Lütkům Hārām and Iüküm Burhi,' vide my book The Mundas and Their Country,' Appendix II.

blacksmith's bellows which were suspended from the beam supporting the roof of the hut. Horrified at this pollution with water from the bellows of a man of the impure tribe of Lohārs, Bārndā went home in great perplexity and sought the advice of his brother. Singbōnga thereupon told him, "Brother, since thou hast incurred such a pollution, it will not do for us to live together any longer. Henceforward I shall live in the sky up yonder, and do thou remain here on this earth." Then Singbōngā went to live in the sky above, and Bārndā remained on the earth below. Their sister, Nage-Era, chose the waters for her abode. But although they separated in this manner, they did not, as we shall presently see, give up mutual intercourse.

3.-The Witch Wife of Singbōngā.

Singbonga had two wives of whom the elder bore him a son and the younger a daughter. In spite of Singbōnga's remonstrances, his two wives would frequently brew rice-beer, get drunk and quarrel amongst themselves.

Now, Singbōnga's son was attacked with a severe illness which all medicinal roots he tried failed to cure. At length Singbōngā sent down to the earth his bird-messengers of whom the crow and the sparrow (lipi) were the chief-to call the famous medicine-men Närāngi-Jhuppi and Osagi Deōnṛă otherwise known respectively as Deogan Guru and Madhō Mantri. These two were such powerful sorcerers that they would yoke tigers to their ploughs with snakes for yoke-straps. It did not take them long to find out that Singbonga's younger wife was a witch who caused the sickness that afflicted the boy. When the sorcerers declared the result of their divination, Singbōngā sent down his bird-messengers to call Barndã to him. Barndā soon arrived, and on being told what had happened, sought to dissuade the younger wife of Singbōnga from dealing in witchcraft any more. But she was deaf to all persuasion and refused to forego the secret knowledge and the devilish powers which she valued more than anything else.

The two medicine-men thereupon carried the witch-wife of Singbōnga with her bundle of charms and medicines to a cave and shut her up in it, not with any lock or chain or bolt, but with the help of their mighty spells (mantrams). And there she was left screaming and howling and gnashing her teeth in

vain.

After a time as Singbōnga and Bärnda chanced to pass that way on a hunting excursion, the cries of the witch reached their ears. Thereupon Singbōngā said that it was not proper that she should be left there to disturb their peace. Thereupon Bārndā started a Karam Jātrā (dancing meet) of the Mundās there in the hope that some young man might take a fancy to her and take her away. But this stratagem was of no avail, as the sight of her ugly feet with the heels turned forward repelled everybody. Then Bärnda set fire to the rock so that the witch might be burnt to death in the cave; but this plan too failed of its intended effect. At length, a well-to-do young man who had long been trying in vain to get a bride for himself took her home. After they had lived for some time as husband and wife, one evening the young man on his return home from his day's work missed his wife and began to abuse all his neighbours whom he accused of having driven her away. He finally

determined to leave home and wander about in search of his wife, and with this view he opened the lid of his bamboo-box (harka) to take out his clothes.

But great was his horror and detestation at finding his wife inside the box! The witch had entered the box in the shape of a cat and could not come out in time. Her husband forthwith took up the box with all its contents and threw it away in a rage.

Now when the crafty Barnda saw this, he decided to palm her off on some other man. And accordingly he shut her up again with her charms and medicines in the box and carried the box in a tiny carrying-net made of fried sag-leaves suspended from acarrying-pole made of a twig of the castor-plant (Erendi). Bårnda took her first to Machhindar Biarikho in parganā Khükrǎ,

thence successively to Pandrāpāni, Dumbari, Lōbādā and several other places. Wherever he went with his weird burden, he cried about, "I have brought a beautiful cat which will be given to anyone wanting it." But on opening the lid of the box, people found inside it a cat with flames issuing out of its mouth; and no one therefore would have it. Though Barnda had been carrying her so long that his shoulders began to bleed from the constant friction of the carrying-pole, and the witch licked the blood with avidity, Barndā would not give up his mission. But at length when he reached the village of Hūlsū in parganā Sōnpur, the carrying-pole gave way; and Bārdā left the witch, box and all, in the place and went back. In a stream west of the village, the Mundās still point out the spot where the carrying-rod broke down. And the village is still sometimes called "Nājōm-Hülsū " or " sorcerer Hülsü", for it is said that the men of Hülsü took all the medicines in the box and, in consequence, there have since arisen many sorcerers in the village. Two men named respectively Süsün Sūlā and Karam Jairi carried the witch first towards the Kārō river and thence to several other places, such as Chāchālā ghāt, Būrbūrū Sāt-dhārā, Gitil Pirangi, Bingkō Urādu, and finally to Perōāghag where she was left. It is not known where she is now, though some Mundās maintain that she is still at Perōāghāg.

4.-The Elder Wife of Singbōngā.

Singbōngă desired to manufacture an extraordinary plough in which the yoke, beam, hār (plough proper), and the handle would be combined all in one piece. He worked hard at it for seven days and seven nights but yet could not finish the selfimposed task. Singbōnga's elder wife insisted on his giving up the attempt, but he would not listen. Thereupon she threw a small piece of fuel-wood (chailā) at him; but-lo and behold! the piece of wood (chaila) was transformed into a bird which flew away with a noisy flapping of its wings, thereby greatly frightening Singbōnga. So this at length had the desired effect, and Singbōnga desisted from his interminable task

5.-The Adventures of Barndā.

At a village named Butlai, there was a powerful spirit (bhut) of whom people stood in great dread. The spirit offered great obstructions to agriculture and would particularly strike men who ploughed their fields up to a late hour. At length Barnda with a view to punish this spirit repaired to this village in the guise of a young man and took service as a dhangar or field-labourer in the house of a cultivator of the village. Even though this dhängar did not work much, the out-turn of his labours would always be unexpectedly great. Thus, even if he scattered a handful of paddy seeds they would cover so much ground that a number of ploughmen could not finish ploughing in a day the field thus sown; and even if he neglected to reap and the rice dropped down on the ground leaving only the bare paddy stalks standing in the field, these paddy-stalks when reaped and threshed would yield a large quantity of rice. Necessarily, therefore, the master of this dhungar grew very rich. Finally, with a view to luring the spirit to a combat, the dhāngar took to ploughing up to a late hour day after day. the spirit appeared before him and attempted to But Barndā fought him until he was worsted, and chased him up to the bank of a tank, severely flogging him all the way with a bamboo club. When the spirit plunged into the tank the dhāngar by way of a perpetual threat planted the bamboo club on the edge of the tank. And forthwith the bamboo clump became a living bamboo and soon grew into a large clump. Since then this particular spirit has not given trouble to the village any more.

And at length strike at him.

After he had accomplished his mission, the dhängar quietly left the village. At first nobody suspected who he was. But a queer circumstance opened the eyes of the villagers to his identity. On the day that he left the village the only daughter of his late master fell severely ill. Ghost-finders were called in and they discovered by their occult art that it was Bārndā who had 'possessed' the girl and caused her sickness. The proper sacrifice of a black cow to Barnda was accordingly prescribed