will inherit the affliction, but not till after her mother's death. If a Hingchābi stares at the food you are eating grasp both your knees quickly and abuse her roundly, and she will not be able to enter into you. If you have any doubt as to whether a friend of yours is possessed of such an evil spirit, ask her casually to sit down on a stool of khoirao wood; if she makes excuses and departs, she is a witch. At the beginning of each year, stir your first pot of rice with a stick made of this wood, to drive off such evil spirits. The evil spirit passes from the woman in which she ordinarily resides and enters another person, who becomes delirious and mentions the name of the woman whose spirit is troubling her. To expel the spirit in former days a mithan used to be sacrificed, but now a ngākra fish is substituted. This is cooked alive and placed on top of a plate of rice and offered to the patient, and then thrown away outside the homestead after the seven original Hingchābis have been called by name. You will observe that the Hingchābi is not a witch as we understand the term. She does not control nature by her spells; she exactly corresponds with the Khawhring of the Lushais.[1]
The belief in witchcraft is firmly established, and a fairly well educated man assured me that he, and indeed most Manipuris, always carried a charm to preserve them from the danger of being bewitched. The same person solemnly attributed a sudden death to witchcraft. Tree worship is not unknown. A certain shrub called u-hal, i.e. oldest tree, is said to have the power of curing sickness. The maiba takes some of the sick person's clothing and places it on the u-hal, and then, offering pān and betel nut to the shrub, asks it to take the disease of the patient on itself. The maiba then appropriates the clothing. (Is not the labourer worthy of his hire?) To his credit be it said that, if the person be poor, a little cotton thread may be made
- ↑ The Lushei-Kuki Clans, pp. 111–2.
