be taken, only our caste will be broken, and what is that when compared with all this wealth we are leaving behind?" So they remained and received the designation of Bedya.

Those who fled went to Airē Kāindē, where they remained many years.

From Airē Kāinde they again moved on, but the Sang river which was in flood barred their way. (Here the following is sung to a Dong air:

The Sang river is in flood,

The Aser overflows its banks.)

Those who were leading crossed the Sang river without supernatural aid, but those in the rear solicited aid from the bongas *to enable them to reach the other side in safety. Beyond the Sang river they came to the Singh door and the Bahi door, which they found closed against them. Here they encountered two persons, the name of the one was Ulum Paikā, and that of the other Julum Paikā. Ulum Paikā and Julum Paikā addressing them said, "Call upon the bongas and we shall burst open the door and allow you to pass through." They acted upon the advice thus given and Ulum Paikā and Julum Paikā breaking the doors they proceeded on their way to Bhelwa ghat.

No legend is so widely known and popular among the Santāls as the one with which the name of Madho Singh is connected, as it is so intimately associated with what may be aptly styled the central event in their chequered history,-that of their flight from Champa. Up till then they had been ruled by one of themselves, and it is to this period that the imagination of the Santal reverts when he feels himself trammelled by forest and rent laws, or by the thousand and one restrictions which follow in the wake of civilized government.

As the flight from Champã occupies such a prominent place in the annals of the Santāls, we may be excused for giving another version of the tradition regarding it.

* The deities worshipped by the Santls.

It is said, that in the service of the Royal House of Kisku were a number of Birhōrs, whose duty it was to provide ropes to tether the elephants and cattle. On a certain day they failed to deliver the usual supply, with the result that the elephants and cattle broke loose during the night and destroyed several fields of grain belonging to the king. In the morning when the Birhōrs knew what had occurred, they dreaded the king's anger, and packing up their goods and chattels they fled from the place. When the Santal king was informed of the damage done to his crops, and the disappearance of the Birhōrs, he ordered an immediate pursuit, and himself took command of the party. During the flight a Birhōr woman gave birth to a child, but such was the fear which inspired the runaways that lest it should impede their movements it was simply covered with a few large leaves, and left on the roadside to its fate.

The pursuers on coming up heard its cries, and rescued it from certain death. The king having given up hope of being able to overtake the fugitives gave up the pursuit, and returned home bringing the foundling with him. The child was reared in the king's house, and received the name of Madho Singh.

Madho Singh on growing up showed such talent that he eventually became collector of the king's revenue, and carried a golden umbrella when moving about the country.

One day he petitioned the king to give him a Santal maiden to wife, at the same time threatening that if his request was not complied with, he would tut one of their daughters. At the darbar which was called to consider this matter, it was decided that as Madho Singh was a Birhōr he could not be allowed to intermarry with themselves. To avoid the disgrace of having One of their daughters forcibly wedded by a Birhōr they, at the suggestion of the Marndi tribe, fled during the night, and left Madho Singh in possession of the kingdom. A few, who preferred their worldly goods to honour, remained behind, and were known in future as Bedya Santāls.

The first obstruction to their flight which the fugitives encountered was the Singh door. It was of solid stone and as

they could neither force it open, nor break it, they began to weep. While thus engaged they were accosted by Julum Paikā and Kāpi Karan, who said, "Call upon the bongas, and we will soon break open the stone door with our bows, and clear a passage for you. "Being in great straits they were compelled to call upon these strange gods, and Julum Paikā and Kāpi Karan each struck the massive stone door with the sharp end of his bow, and shivered it to a thousand pieces. They passed through, and in a short time reached the Bahi door, which was also of stone. As with the Singh door, so with this, they could neither force it open nor break it. Here they were met by Ulum Paikā and Bhalwai Bijai, who said, "Call upon the bongas, and we will make a way for you." It was easier a second time to look for deliverance to strange gods, so they did as they were advised, and Ulum Paikā and Bhalwai Bijai struck the Bahi door with their bows with such force as to break it to pieces. They were here taught by Ulum Paikā and Bhalwai Bijai to offer sacrifices to the bongas. They sacrificed a black fowl to Marang Buru, and a brown one to Jaher-era, and cut ox-hides into strips, which they hung on the bushes along their line of march. They also marked the stones with sindur as they proceeded.

Madho Singh was very wroth when he knew the Santāls had decamped, and seizing his battle-axe, and taking his sword under his arm went in pursuit. Passing through the Singh docr and the Bahi door he saw the strips of ox-hide on the bushes, and the signs of bonga worship in the sindur on the stones by the wayside. He then said, "These people have apostatised, I shall leave them to themselves and return home."

From Bhelwa ghat they advanced to the plain of Chitri Hatup. They remained many years here and enjoyed peace and prosperity. The elders passed their time in legislating for the good of the community. The young men were employed in breaking cattle for the plough, and the maidens were to be seen dancing the Dahar dance.

The festivals sanctioned by their religion were duly observed at the proper seasons, and all social institutions, such as marriage, funeral rites, etc., were held in reverence, and all obligations connected therewith cheerfully discharged.

The water of the Sōnāe Sōkrā and the Kērē Spring having failed, they were under the necessity of moving on again. Turi pōkhōri and Bāhā bāndelā* lay in the way and had to be crossed. This was done by spreading lotus leaves on the surface of the water, on which they passed over without wetting the soles of their feet. They then reached Murup godā.

From Murup goda they once more moved on and came to Amber.

Leaving Amber they encountered the jungle of Kaker, which was so dense that they with great difficulty made their way through it, some of the people, it is said, crept through on their hands and knees. Beyond this lay the forest of Bare-bārāngon, through which they passed, trampling down the undergrowth, until a path was made.

They then came to Kadma bedā, from whence they passed on to Belāonjā, and afterwards to Sir and Sikhar. They then spread over the parganas of Palganjo, Tundi and Pāndrā, and adjoining districts. A portion went south and settled in the Midnapur jungles.

From Palganjo, Tundi and Pändra they crossed the Barakar river, and spread over the Santal Parganās.

The leaders tried to prevent the people crossing the Barākar river, but the bad name they gave to the country beyond, as well as the punishment which was to overtake those who disobeyed, failed to restrain them. After crossing the Barakar river they pressed on to the banks of the Adjaē river, which they also crossed, and possessed the country on the north bank also. Finding themselves cramped in the Santal Parganās they began to cross the Ganges, and clear homesteads for themselves in the Pundua jungle.

Turi and Flower tanks.