THE VEDDAS

CHAPTER VI

RELIGION

WHEN a man or woman dies from sickness the body is left in the cave or rock-shelter in which death took place. The body is not washed, dressed or ornamented in any way but is generally allowed to lie in the natural supine position and is covered with leaves and branches.

This was formerly the universal custom and still persists among the less sophisticated Veddas, who sometimes in addition place a large stone upon the chest of the dead man. This old custom, for which no reason could be given, is still observed at Sitala Wanniya where the body is still covered with branches and left where death has occurred. As soon as these matters are attended to, and it seemed that they are carried through as quickly as possible after death, the small community leaves the cave or place in which the death has occurred and avoids it for a long time. It was sometimes stated that its members would never return, but we know of at least two cases in which sons returned to the cave in which their fathers died after many years, and we have no doubt that this statement means no more than that no one approached the cave for a long time. It was always difficult to obtain even a crude estimate of the lapse of time between events, but there was some reason to believe that in one of the two instances the shelter in which death occurred was untenanted for about twelve years. In any event it is certain that Veddas did return to caves in which a death had occurred, and that if any bones were left, no difficulty was made about picking these up and casting them into the jungle^[1].

It should be mentioned that no fire was lit near the corpse or water left by it when the living deserted the cave. Among the majority, including the two wildest groups of Veddas, there is no avoidance of any of the property of the dead man, and the contents of his betel bag would be eaten directly after his death, but among the members of another group of Veddas (Henebedda), who must be regarded as pure-blooded although their system of magic shows Sinhalese influence, the betel bag, unless it were a very good one, would be left with the corpse, and in any case its contents would not be eaten, but left near the dead man. The areca nut cutter and lime box, which during life were always carried in the bag, would not be left with the corpse, but before they were used by the living, measures were taken of which the avowed design was to render these objects harmless. Thus the old headman of the Henebedda Veddas exposed his father's lime box and areca cutters under a bush for a period which was certainly longer than ten but probably less than thirty days. It was necessary to do this, since if these objects had been used immediately, the individuals using them would probably have contracted the same illness as that from which the dead man suffered, and on further questioning the old man explained that the yaka producing the illness from which his father had died would for some time, and in some way which he could not define, remain connected with the chewing apparatus which the dead man had used constantly during his last illness.

At Bandaraduwa we were able to ascertain what was done after the death of a man named Tuta which had occurred in a neighbouring settlement two days before our arrival. The grave was dug by two of the man's brothers who carried the body to it; nothing was buried in the grave, not even the dead man's betel pouch, although he had lain with it supporting his head during his last illness which was by no means short, but on the contrary it was kept in the house and its contents were immediately used. No water was left on the grave nor was a fire lit, nor could we discover that the two men who carried the body to the grave washed or in any way purified themselves.

Among the village Veddas of Omuni who have much Sinhalese blood, though culturally they appear to owe more to the Tamils of the east coast than to the Sinhalese, it was stated that the betel pouch and its contents would be buried beneath the head of the dead man and a coconut shell of water placed by his side. These people, who settled some seventy years ago, as Tennant records^[2], knew only of leaving the body in the cave as a custom practised long ago by their ancestors, and there is no doubt that the adults of the present generation have seen nothing except burial in graves probably conducted in much the same manner as that practised by the surrounding Sinhalese.

The Omuni Veddas mentioned two interesting points with regard to burial. It should not take place in the immediate neighbourhood of any of their scanty and primitive chena cultivations, and the grave should be at least as far from the village as it was possible to hear a "Hoo" cry.

An even more advanced stage of care for the dead has been described by the Sarasins in the case of a "Culture Vedda" whose grave they opened. Unfortunately it is not said in what part of the country this grave was situated, though from the description given it is clear that the burial was recent. "A small structure (gerust) was built over one such grave upon which a coconut leaf was laid, and at each corner of the erection was tied the inflorescence of a coconut palm. At the head of the grave lay three open coconuts and a small heap of wood, at the foot an opened and an untouched coconut. Three cacti were planted on the grave, one at the head, one in the middle and one at the foot. The grave was three or four feet deep….The body which was that of a woman was wrapped in much cloth and had on it a necklace of glass beads…."

The authorities quoted further note that bows, arrows, axes, betel bags and strike-a-lights may all be buried in the graves of male "Culture Veddas," and in one such grave they even found bullets^[3].

When an attempt is made to discover the nature of the noxious influence felt in the place of death, the usual answer given is to the effect that "if we stayed where the death had occurred we should be pelted with stones." Further questions made it clear that in many instances there was no definite idea that some part of the dead man was the active agent in the stone-throwing; on the other hand some Veddas, and these as far as we could judge some of the least contaminated, definitely believed that it was the spirit or yaka of the dead man who would cause stones to rain on anybody staying near the corpse. And in this instance it was admittedly fear of the spirit of the dead individual that caused them to hurry from the site of death. Stone-throwing is the usual method by which the yaku show their displeasure, using yaku in the broadest sense, and by no means limiting this term to the spirits of the recent dead. It was clear that during certain disturbances described as "stone-throwing" no actual rocks or stones were moved or fell, and this was recognised by the Veddas who, however, continued to speak of the upheaval as "stone-throwing," which they ascribed to annoyance felt by the yaku. In one instance it was possible to say that the aggrieved yaku were not those of the recent dead. While camping within a couple of hundred yards of the Bendiyagalge caves in that part of the Uva jungle known as Henebedda we were startled between eleven and twelve one night by a deep groaning sound of considerable volume which was immediately followed by an outcry from the caves. Men shouted, women and children cried out, and every dog in the settlement howled its loudest. The noise which alarmed the cave occurred only once, and can hardly have lasted for more than ten seconds, but the chatter of people and the howling of dogs must have continued for about a quarter of an hour. We are entirely unable to state the cause of the noise, but suppose that it was due to one rock slipping upon another, or to the splitting of a mass of rock below the surface of the ground, but no freshly exposed rock surfaces or any displacement of the soil was to be seen next morning in the neighbourhood of the caves or the country immediately round them. The Veddas, however, had no doubt as to the cause of the noise and described it as "stone-throwing," stating that a number of yaku must have been annoyed with their proceedings on the previous day, when, after going through the kirikoraha ceremony over a fine buck which one of them had shot the night before, they were tempted to show us some part of the kolamaduwa ceremony without providing the proper gifts for the yaku invoked on that occasion. They pointed out that it was the yaku of long dead Veddas who had manifested their displeasure by stone-throwing, though they all admitted that no one had seen the stones thrown, or could show the stones with which the alleged bombardment had been effected. This, combined with the fact that a minority of Veddas frankly admit that the cause of leaving the site where death has occurred is fear of the yaka, seems to point to the whole process of desertion being due to fear of the spirit of the deceased, which for a short but indefinite time seems to be thought of as existing near the body it has left, though it was never possible to discover that this was a clearly formulated belief.

The matter may indeed be said to have been put beyond doubt by a discovery made by Mr Parker. The words mal paennae wanna occur in a number of invocations to the Nae Yaku. We could obtain no translation for these words in the field, though it was said that they alluded to the dead man, but by comparing a number of invocations to the Nae Yaku Mr Parker ascertained that mal is used as the equivalent of both "flowers" and "Veddas," so that this expression, which is undoubtedly a term of address to the dead man's spirit, is to be translated "driver away of Veddas."

Although the fear of the dead (as expressed by leaving the site of death) occurs among all the wilder Veddas, we met with a few old men, notably Poromala (Walaha) of Henebedda, and Handuna of Godatalawa, who were by no means confident that all men on their death became yaku. Although they were sure that all important and influential men, as well as those who during life had the power of calling and becoming possessed by the yaku, became yaku after death, they considered that it was by no means certain that any part of quite ordinary individuals survived death. At Godatalawa such doubts in the case of particular dead individuals might be settled by calling upon the deceased at a Nae Yaku ceremony when the following invocation was used :

Lord! New Driver away of Vaeddas, if it is true that there are miracles, killing one wild monitor lizard in the jungle while coming I must meet with a sambar deer. (Be pleased) to drink, Driver away of Vaeddas, this young coconut^[4].

If much game was killed after this ceremony the deceased was considered to have become a yaka ready and willing to help his friends and relatives.

To ascertain the actual condition of the spirits of the departed for the first few days after death is a matter of some difficulty, for although certain communities have perfectly definite views on this point, others have not; hence it will be convenient to leave this matter for the present and to return to it when the attitude of the Veddas towards their dead has been further defined.

As each Vedda community consists of a small number of families who, since cousin marriage prevails, are usually related both by blood and marriage, the yaku of the recent dead, called collectively Nae Yaku, are supposed to stand towards the surviving members of the group in the light of friends and relatives, who if well treated will continue to show lovingkindness to their survivors, and only if neglected will show disgust and anger by withdrawing their assistance, or becoming even actively hostile. Hence it is generally considered necessary to present an offering to the newly dead within a week or two of their decease; but this is not invariably the case, for a few Veddas said that they would not hold a Nae Yaku ceremony until they specially required the help of the yaku or until misfortune threatened or had overtaken them.

Among most Veddas the offering must consist of cooked rice and coconut milk, the food that every Vedda esteems above all other, but betel leaves and areca nut are often added and the oldest survivor of a small group of comparatively unsophisticated Veddas seen at Godatalawa stated that in the old days this offering would have consisted of yams and water, if, as was often the case, coconuts and rice—which were only to be secured with difficulty and by barter—could not be obtained. In each community there is one man called kapurale or dugganawa, who has the power and knowledge requisite to call the yaku, and in the ceremony of presenting the offering called Nae Yaku Natanawa (literally the dancing of the Nae Yaku), this man calls upon the yaka of the recently dead man to come and take the offering. It was stated that dugganawa was an older word than kapurale and was in fact a Vedda word, though it was soon obvious that only a minority of Veddas knew it. The dugganawa^[5], who throughout this book will be spoken of as the shaman, becomes possessed by the yaka of the dead man who speaks through the mouth of the shaman in hoarse guttural accents, declaring that he approves the offering, that he will assist his kinsfolk in hunting, and often stating the direction in which the next hunting party should go.

Each shaman trains his successor, usually taking as his pupil his own son or his sister's son (i.e. his actual or potential son-in-law). Handuna of Sitala Wanniya learnt from his father. At Henebedda we were told that a special hut was built in which the shaman and his pupil slept, and from which women were excluded. It seems probable that this is only done among Veddas who have come under Sinhalese influence, as among them, but not among the wilder Veddas, women are considered unclean, and there was no isolation of the shaman and his pupil at Sitala Wanniya.

Sella Wanniya of Unuwatura Bubula was instructed by his father, and during his apprenticeship he resided with him in a hut into which his mother was not allowed to come.

The pupil learns to repeat the invocations used at the various ceremonies, but no food is offered to the yaku. At Sitala Wanniya we were told that the shaman recited the following formula, explaining to the yaku that he is teaching his pupil:

Āyu bōwā. Mama ada sita man gōlayek hadanawā
Eyin kisi waradak ganda epā.
Magē gōlayāta man kiyā denawā mē puda topata denda.

"May (your) life be long! From to-day I am rearing a scholar of the mind. Do not take any offence at it. I am explaining to my pupil how to give this offering to you."

The yaku understand that although the formulae invoking them are recited they are not really being called, and so the pupil does not become possessed while learning, nor do the yaku hurt him. The pupil avoids eating or touching pig or eating fowl in the same way as the shaman, and Sella of Unuwatura Bubula stated that while learning he avoided rice, coconuts and kurakan, eating especially the flesh of the sambar and monitor lizard.

The shaman exercises complete control over his pupil and, we believe, does not usually train more than one disciple. We heard of one instance in which a shaman, considering his pupil unfit, advised him to give up all idea of becoming a shaman. This happened among the Mudigala Veddas, apparently between 20 or 30 years ago. No man, however highly trained, is accounted the official shaman of a community during his teacher's life, although with his teacher's permission he will, when he is proficient, perform ceremonies and become possessed by the yaku.

At Sitala Wanniya we discovered that a shaman must not cut his hair unless he takes special precautions. One of us was collecting specimens of hair, and on asking Handuna for a lock, was answered affirmatively but told that as he (Handuna) was a shaman a cloth must be held over his head "because of the yaku." As we had used a great deal of cloth, we asked if a piece of newspaper would do; Handuna replied that it would be as good, but he must keep it always to cover his head when he danced. We explained that the paper would probably rot; then said he, "I shall die." He said he did not know why, but he believed this, as his father had told him that even should his son want a lock of his hair (hair is given as "seisin ") he must cover his head with a cloth when it was cut, and ever afterwards must cover it when dancing, or else the yaku would kill him. Yet such was his politeness that rather than refuse our request he was ready to suffer this inconvenience. Of course under these conditions we did not take a lock of his hair.

His son-in-law Kaira, although he assisted Handuna in dancing, offered no objection to our collecting a sample of his hair, nor did any of the other members of the community.

Besides the shaman one or more of the near relatives of the dead man may become possessed, but this though common is not invariable. The yaka leaves the shaman soon after he has promised his favour and success in hunting, the shaman often, collapsing as the spirit departs and in any case appearing in an exceedingly exhausted state for a few minutes. However, he soon comes round when he and all present, constituting the men, women and children of the group, eat the offering, usually on the spot on which the invocation took place, though this is not absolutely necessary, for on one occasion at Sitala Wanniya when a rain squall threatened, the food was quickly carried to the cave a few hundred yards distant from the dancing ground.

It was clear that this eating of the food which had been offered to the yaku was an act of communion, and an essential part of the ceremony which was thought to bring health and good fortune, for some communities even anointed the heads of their dogs with the milk of the offering, explaining that this was done because of their value. This was the case at Henebedda, while the patriarch of the Godatalawa Veddas explained that some of the offering was always given to their dogs to eat, for the reason that they depended upon them in hunting. In one Nae Yaku ceremony (Bandaraduwa) the shaman fed the nearest relatives of the dead man immediately after the yaku left him, holding the bowl containing the offering to their mouths, while among the Sitala Wanniya Veddas, not only did the shaman, while still possessed, feed the children of the group from the bowl and smear its contents over their faces, but a number of members of the group, including the grandchildren of the dead man whose yaka possessed the shaman at the time, placed a small portion of the offering in the shaman's mouth. The strength of the desire for the companionship and communion with the spirits of the kindly dead was very strong, and it was generally felt that shamans, and those frequently possessed by the yaktu, might expect to have especially good luck on account of their close association with the spirits. Many instances occurred which showed how strong was the feeling of good fellowship which the living had for the spirits of their dead. Thus at Sitala Wanniya, on the occasion of the performance of a Nae Yaku ceremony got up at our request, Handuna, the shaman and leading man in the small community, volunteered the statement that he and his people were delighted to hold the ceremony, since it was seldom that they were able to offer their yaku such food as that provided by us. After his own father had been invoked and had expressed his unqualified pleasure at the good things provided for him, there was some discussion as to further dancing, because the dancer really felt exhausted, but all urged the continuation of the ceremony, since there were other yaku who might well be invoked on an occasion when an unusually plenteous supply of food was provided for them. Again, in the ceremony which insured the safe taking of rock honey, it was explained that every male member of the little community must perform the dance, since only thus could they certainly expect to share in the benefits to be reaped from the goodwill of the yaku. But perhaps the best example of the feeling of affectionate regard and of kindly good-fellowship existing between the living and the dead is afforded by the end of the invocation on the occasion of the Nae Yaku ceremony at Sitala Wanniya, for surely there could be no closer communion between the quick and the dead than that implied in the invocation, which is fully carried into effect by every member of the community sharing in the food that has been offered to the yaku.

"Salutation! Salutation! Part [of our] relatives having called [you] in time (i e. at the right time) [we] give you white rice. [You] eat [and] drink. Do not think any wrong (i.e. do not form an unfavourable opinion of us). We also eat and drink [the same food]."

The above account is an outline of the simplest form of death ceremony such as was described to us at Godatalawa, but usually the matter is complicated by the invocation of certain yaku other than the Nae Yaku. Many generations ago there lived a Vedda called Kande Wanniya, a mighty hunter, who at his death became Kande Yaka, and under this name is constantly invoked to give success in hunting. With Kande Yaka is also associated the yaka of his younger brother Bilindi, who is commonly believed to have been killed by Kande Wanniya in a fit of temper and who according to another version is not the brother but the brother-in-law of Kande Yaka. It is usual to invoke Kande Yaka and also Bilindi Yaka at the beginning of a Nae Yaku ceremony, and it was pointed out at different times by a number of our informants that the Nae Yaku could not come to the offerings unless accompanied by Kande Yaka, who was even spoken of as bringing the Nae Yaku with him. In fact, many Veddas stated that the Nae Yaku go to Kande Yaka and become his attendants; this point of view was illustrated by the fact that in two death dances seen (one held for a man who had died seven days previously, the other a rehearsal performed for our benefit), Kande Yaka and Bilindi Yaka were invoked, and possessed the shaman and gave signs of their favour to the group of Veddas present, before the shaman became possessed by the Nae Yaku. Further, many of our informants, especially the less sophisticated, pointed out that soon after death the spirit of the deceased resorted to Kande Yaka in order to obtain his permission to accept offerings from their living relatives, and to obtain power from him to assist them in return for their offerings, or to injure them in the event of their bad behaviour. Thus Kande Yaka, who is of especial assistance in hunting, becomes Lord of the Dead. We have, however, little doubt that to the majority of Veddas Kande Yaka is especially the yaka who gives success in hunting, and that his relation to the dead does not leap to their minds on the mention of his name as does the idea of his helpfulness in hunting, for Kande Yaka was essentially a friendly and helpful yaka, who, unlike many other yaku usually beneficent, never sent sickness; in fact, Kande Yaka the spirit scarcely differs as patron of hunters from Kande Wanniya the mighty hunter, still living and showing kindness and helpfulness towards the people among whom he dwelt.

It is now possible to consider the condition of the spirit of the deceased for a few days after death, according to those Veddas who state that a definite period elapses before the spirit becomes a yaka, for it appears that properly speaking the word yaka should not be applied to the spirit of the dead for the first few days after it has left the body. During this short period the word prana karaya (living one) should be used for the spirit of the deceased, for it has not yet attained the condition implied by the term yaka. Among the Henebedda Veddas it was thought that the prana karaya resorted to Kande Yaka a few days, perhaps three or five, after death, and then obtained permission from him to accept offerings from the living, and thus become numbered among his attendants, the Nae Yaku; but beyond a vague idea that the spirit might perhaps exist for a short time at the site where death had occurred, these folk had no knowledge of its state before it reached Kande Yaka. The Bandaraduwa Veddas, who had come more under Sinhalese and Tamil influence, asserted that the spirit of the deceased spent some days in the neighbourhood of the death scene, which it only left to seek the Kataragam God and obtain his permission to become a yaka and pass into the train of attendants on Kande Yaka, and so become a Nae Yaku capable of accepting offerings from the living and in return helping or injuring them.

The method of invocation of the yaku is essentially the same in all Vedda ceremonies; an invocation is sung by the shaman and often by the onlookers, while the shaman slowly dances, usually round the offering that has been prepared for the yaku. Sometimes the invocations are quite appropriate and either consist of straightforward appeals to the yaka invoked for help, or recite the deeds and prowess of the yaka when he too was a man, as when Kande Yaka is addressed as "continuing to go from hill to hill [who] follows up the traces from footprint to footprint of excellent sambar deer." But at other times the charms seem singularly inappropriate; probably in many of these instances they are the remains of old Sinhalese charms that have not only been displaced from their proper position and function, but have been mangled in the process, and have in the course of time become incomprehensible. As the charm is recited over and over again the shaman dances more and more quickly, his voice becomes hoarse and he soon becomes possessed by the yaka, and, although he does not lose consciousness and can coordinate his movements, he nevertheless does not retain any clear recollection of what he says, and only a general idea of the movements he has performed. Although there is doubtless a certain element of humbug about some of the performances, we believe that this is only intentional among the tamer Veddas accustomed to show off before visitors, and that among the less sophisticated Veddas the singing and movements of the dance soon produce a more or less automatic condition, in which the mind of the shaman, being dominated by his belief in the reality of the yaku, and of his coming possession, really acts without being in a condition of complete volitional consciousness. Most sincere practitioners whom we interrogated in different localities agreed that although they never entirely lost consciousness, they nearly did so at times, and that they never fully appreciated what they said when possessed, while at both the beginning and end of possession they experienced a sensation of nausea and vertigo and the ground seemed to rock and sway beneath their feet.

Some men, including Handuna of Sitala Wanniya, whom we consider one of the most trustworthy of our informants, said that they were aware that they shivered and trembled when they became possessed, and Handuna heard booming noises in his ears as the spirit left him and full consciousness returned. He said this usually happened after he had ceased to dance. We could not hear of any shaman who saw visions while possessed or experienced any olfactory or visual hallucinations before, during, or after possession. The Veddas recognise that women may become possessed, but we only saw one instance of (alleged) possession in a woman, which occurred at a rehearsal of a dance got up for our benefit on our first visit to Bendiyagalge, during which we are confident that none of the dancers were really possessed. Although we did not see the beginning of this woman's seizure we have little doubt that there was a large element of conscious deception in her actions, for when we became aware of her she was sitting bolt upright with her eyes shut and the lids quivering, apparently from the muscular effort of keeping them tightly closed, while opposite her was Tissahami the Vedda Arachi muttering spells over a coconut shell half full of water with which he dabbed her eyes and face.

It is not suggested that the conscious element is entirely absent from the Vedda possession dances, it is impossible to believe that such a sudden collapse as that occurring in the Henebedda kirikoraha ceremony (p. 222) (when Kande Yaka in the person of the shaman shoots the sambar deer), followed by an almost instantaneous recovery, is entirely non-volitional, and the same holds good for the pig-spearing in the Bambura Yaka ceremony (p. 243) at Sitala Wanniya. We believe that these facts can be fully accounted for by a partial abolition of the will, that is to say, by a dulling of volition far short of complete unconsciousness. The shaman in fact surrenders himself to the dance in the fullest sense, and it is this, combined with a high degree of sub-conscious expectancy, which leads him to enact almost automatically and certainly without careful forethought the traditional parts of the dance in their conventionally correct order. Further, the assistant, who follows every movement of the dancer, prepared to catch him when he falls, may also greatly assist by conscious or unconscious suggestion in the correct performance of these complicated possession dances. Again, we do not think there can be any doubt as to the non-volitional nature of the possession, by the yaka, of the bystanders, near relatives of the dead man, which may take place during the Nae Yaku ceremony^[6].

One remarkable fact may be chronicled here, viz. that we have never met a Vedda who had seen the spirit of a dead man, that is to say, no Vedda ever saw a ghost, at least in his waking hours. We have never been able to obtain any corroborative evidence for Bailey's assertion that "the spirits [of the dead] appear to them in dreams and tell them [the Veddas] where to hunt." Veddas certainly dream, but Handuna and his son-inlaw Kaira, two most trustworthy informants, said that they did not often have dreams. Dreams are considered uncanny, and Handuna said that, although a shaman, he himself feared them. He told us that a man would usually remain quietly in the rockshelter for a whole day after a dream, and would not leave it to get food, even if staying in the cave meant going hungry. Handuna once dreamt that he had shot a monkey and brought it back to the cave, so he did not go out hunting the next day but stayed in the cave. He said that he had never had dreams that were of themselves of a terrifying nature, such as being attacked by bears or falling over a precipice. He dreamt of his father a few days after his death, but seldom or never since then. In his dream his dead father invited him to come hunting with him, and together they went into the jungle and found some yams and cooked and ate them. Handuna said that he was not afraid "because he was my father; what was there to be afraid of? Nevertheless I stayed in the cave, for I was sorry that day." Handuna told us that children—even small children that cannot talk—may wake up shrieking, but he has never heard of people talking in their sleep.

With regard to the causation of dreams there was a real but ill-defined belief connecting the dream-forms of dead relatives with the spirits (yaku) of the dead. Discussing this matter in connection with his dream of his dead father, Handuna said, "We think it is through love they come," but he showed that he realised that living people who were not near relatives might be seen in dreams, by volunteering the statement that at our departure he might dream of one of us (C. G. S.) to whom he was speaking.

Although the dream-forms of dead persons were vaguely associated with their yaku, it was generally denied that the dead seen in dreams told the living where to hunt, and it must be remembered that the general opinion was that no living person had ever seen a yaka, and it was only when specially discussing dreams that it was said that yaku were seen in dreams. Nor did the Nae Yaku regularly make their presence known in any other way than by possession, though some Veddas translated the minor noises of the jungle into signs of the presence of the yaku. These facts also seem to militate against the idea that any considerable part of Vedda possession is a fraud, deliberately conceived and perpetrated, for knowing, as many Veddas do, of the frequency with which the Sinhalese see "devils" and "spirits" of all sorts, nothing would appear easier, if fraud were intended, than for a shaman to assert that he could see the spirits which every Vedda believes are constantly around him.

Arrows play a considerable part in the Vedda religion, two forms of arrow being used. The first is the ordinary arrow used for shooting game, the second a ceremonial arrow called aude with a blade 8 to 18 inches long, which is usually but not always hafted into a handle often considerably shorter than the blade^[7]. Both forms of arrows are used in the possession dances described in Chapter IX, but in addition to this the shooting arrow is used as a protection to infants, being commonly thrust in the ground by the side of a sleeping child when its mother is forced to leave it. We heard of this custom in several communities, and at Sitala Wanniya, where arrows were scarce, were shown a wooden bladed arrow which was said to be used in this way (figure 7(a)); aude might also be made of wood when an iron blade was not available, and figure 7(b) shows a wooden aude made for us at Henebedda. These facts are important as showing that the power of the arrow lies in itself and not in its iron blade.

The protective power of the arrow was noted by Nevill, who stated that the Nilgala Veddas "regard the symbol of an arrow, placed by their babe, as efficient protection for it. They leave tiny babes upon the sand for hours together, with no other guard than an arrow stuck in the ground by their side. Their belief in the efficacy of this has received no shock. They never knew such a child to be attacked by wild beasts, pigs, leopards, jackals, etc. or harmed^[8]."

With regard to the long-bladed and short-handled ceremonial arrows, the handles of these are sometimes covered with incisions so roughly executed that they do not form a pattern and can hardly be decorative even in intention, so that probably they only serve the useful purpose of preventing the hand from slipping. Such ceremonial arrows are generally heirlooms, not necessarily passing from father to son but rather being handed down in apostolic succession from shaman to shaman, and among the village Veddas of Bintenne I have handled one such blade with a history running back for five generations.

Figure 8 shows two ceremonial arrows which we were able to collect. Besides these we saw similar aude at Omuni and were told at Sitala Wanniya that Handuna had formerly possessed one. Rutimeyer has figured one of these ceremonial arrows about 14 inches long, obtained from Kaira the "senior" of the Danigala Veddas. These arrows are carefully preserved by the shaman, and just as he himself observes certain dietetic rules, avoiding eating pig and fowl which are supposed to be particularly repulsive to the yaku, so among those more sophisticated communities who believe in the periodical uncleanliness of women, special precautions are taken to avoid the possible contamination of the aude^[9]. This is generally done by keeping them in some comparatively remote spot such as a cave or in the roof thatch. It is necessary that the shaman should hold one of these arrows in his hand when invoking Kande Yaka; he should also have one for Bilindi Yaka, though as a matter of practice Kande Yaka and Bilindi Yaka were often invoked using the same aude, another aude being reserved for invoking the Nae Yaku. Both arrows were, however, commonly held in the hands during the whole of the Nae Yaku ceremony, but in spite of this no confusion seemed to arise nor had the onlookers the least difficulty in saying which aude belonged to Kande Yaka whenever they were asked.

The offering of rice in the pot would be stirred with the aude, and betel leaves might be ceremonially transfixed with it. Among the Veddas of Unuwatura Bubula the testing of the quality of the food provided for the yaku was performed with the help of the aude, the shaman possessed by Kande Yaka using the aude to remove from the pot a few grains of rice which the yaka in the person of the shaman several times examined before expressing his approval of the offering provided.

Besides the important part in the Vedda cult of the dead played by the propitiation of the Nae Yaku, and of the yaku of certain other Veddas such as Kande Wanniya who as yaku have attained to special importance (approaching that of culture heroes in other forms of belief), there is a certain feeling of reverence for a host of unnamed yaku. Little attention is paid to these but, since it is stated that they too were once men, the suggestion may be hazarded that they represent the yaku of the forgotten dead. These yaku, although all around in the jungle, are in some instances thought of as vaguely attached to special localities, especially to glades in the forest, unusually large trees, and above all large rocks and rocky hilltops. The yaku of rocks and hilltops, indeed, tend to become named, taking the name of the hill they inhabit; even among the less civilised Veddas they are sometimes identified with the yaku of Vedda headmen who have lived on or near the hills. On the other hand among the more sophisticated Veddas these yaku tend to become less and less the spirits of dead Veddas, and finally, under Tamil influence, are thought of as dangerous spirits, immigrants from beyond the Ocean, each of whom with a female of his own species haunts the hilltops and sends disease. Somewhat akin to these yaku in their less dangerous forms are the kiriamma (literally milk mothers, i.e. grandmothers), the yaku of Vedda women, generally the wives of Vedda headmen or chiefs, many of whom are thought of as haunting the sides and tops of hills where there are rocks and springs. They are sometimes jealous of people gathering honey—indeed there is a tendency to avoid rocky mountain tops on their account—but may be placated by a charm, though occasionally a little honey is left for them with a muttered kapau kiriammala—Eat O Kiriamma. Although they retain the fondness for children which they felt in their lifetime they not infrequently send sickness, at least among the more sophisticated Veddas.

A few kiriamma have become rather important yaku, notably an old woman of the Unapane clan now known as Unapane Kiriamma, but such kiriamma do not appear to be especially associated with rocky or hilly sites.

We are now in a position to discuss the possible evolution of such specially important yaku as Kande Yaka and Bambura Yaka who may without exaggeration be said to have attained the position of heroes. It has been stated on p. 126 that according to certain Veddas not all the dead become yaku but only the spirits of specially important men or those who during life have the power of summoning the yaku to them. Further, the general impression we gathered was that the stronger the personality of the dead man, the more powerful and important was his yaka, and it may well be that the yaka of a particularly strong or skilled individual may be remembered by name and continue to receive offerings, even after the death of those near relatives to whom the spirit is one of the most important of the Nae Yaku on account of the blood bond between them. This appears to have happened in the case of Panikkia Yaka invoked at the present day by the Henebedda Veddas, and we shall now attempt to trace the history of this spirit.

It was stated in the first chapter that a number of the Veddas were politically organized in the 16th century and that one of the most important of their chiefs, described in a contemporary manuscript as Panikki the Vedda, was appointed to the high office of Bandara Mudiyanse. Further, it is recorded that Panikki the Vedda caught elephants and took them to the king. Now at Henebedda at the present day Panikki Yaka is invoked in the Kolomaduwa ceremony to avert sickness alike from man and cattle, and to confer prosperity on villages and cattlefolds. Those Veddas, a minority, who know anything of this yaka, state that he is the spirit of a long dead Vedda who was especially skilled in capturing buffalo, and who on account of his great knowledge of jungle craft is still able to confer safety and jungle favour on those invoking him.

In Chapter I we have mentioned that the Vedda cult of the dead has infiltrated the beliefs of the Sinhalese, and we will now give some details of the Bandar cult to which we there alluded. Concerning this Mr Parker writes: "It is a common practice of the Kandian Sinhalese of that part of the country to make offerings to the spirits of the deceased chiefs and important ancestors……

" They are all classed as Yakas by the Sinhalese and are generally hurtful; but some have certain protective functions, and protect cattle and coconut trees and crops.

"The offerings are kept up everywhere in that part of the island to the present day at the Dewalas, and elsewhere. Luckily, it is a branch of their religion to which I devoted special attention…and although my lists are doubtless incomplete I have the names of considerably more than 100 of them.

"Some were included in the lists as important ancestors; others, the majority, because of their power, others because of their cruelty, or their sudden violent death.

"Panikki Vaedda occurs among them, and there are a few other names which may be those of Vaeddas,—such as Yapa, Hiti, Hapu etc….

"I have been informed that every one for whom a dana or funeral feast is not offered (at which the spirit is supposed to be present) remains in the form of a homeless spirit (preta) or yaka. These commonly disappear in time and are forgotten. Some of them remain about their old abodes, and uncanny noises heard during the night in the houses are caused by these ghosts, as in Europe….

"The Sinhalese demonology is very intricate, and it is extremely difficult to understand. There are many classes of yaku; but I believe that this Bandar worship is the only indigenous portion of it. I have traced practically all the other demons to Southern India, although the kapurala claim that a few others, in addition to the Bandaras, are of local origin. They themselves admit that all the rest were imported from India.

"The twelve Vaedi Yaku are, I believe, an entirely different set of evil spirits….

"The Vaeddas told me that they are extremely malignant. Besides these, they said that the whole forest is full of local nameless Yaku, who make strange noises in the night and frighten people in various ways. This also is a firmly rooted Sinhalese belief; their estimate of the number is two millions."

The resemblance between this Baṇḍara cult and the Vedda worship of the Nae Yaku is obvious and is still further shown by the canonization as a Bandar of one Godegedara, an influential Ratemahatmaya, first of Wellasse and then of Badulla who died in 1872 and whose spirit now prevents disease among cattle, increases their milk, protects man and animals from beasts of prey, helps hunters and prevents their meeting wild beasts suddenly in the jungle and in fact gives success in all things^[10]. About three months after his death certain unusual happenings suggested that one of the dead was trying to attract the attention of the living. An elephant appeared at Damenegama in Uva and in the neighbourhood, and although repeatedly shot at continued to come to the villages and tear the roofs off the houses, but did no other damage. This unusual behaviour led to the suspicion that one of the dead had sent the elephant, and accordingly the turning stone (paena balanawa) was consulted as to whether one of the old or recent dead was responsible. When it was ascertained that it was the latter, a ceremony kamba kanuwa natanawa was undertaken to discover whose was the spirit. The kapurale became possessed, when the spirit within him announced that he, Godegedara, had sent the elephant and that he desired to be honoured and invoked to help men. It was explained that the spirits of the dead always approach the living for the first time through animals, or signify their desire for offerings by making a man sick. The rank of the deceased is roughly estimated by the animal sent, in which, however, the spirit of the deceased is not immanent. The lion is said to be highest, then comes the elephant; the leopard indicates the spirit of a rather less exalted person.

It appears that the dead have no power to interfere in human affairs and take offerings until permission has been obtained from one or more high gods, of whom the chief is the Kataragam God. How the spirit obtains this permission was not clear, but the early signs of the power of the deceased were always in some way connected with the Kataragam God. Thus Godegedera caused the elephant of the Kataragam God to go mad at the perahera ceremony, and when Kosgama became a Bandar a leopard sent by him rode round the Kataragam temple on the back of one of the God's bulls, i.e., one of the tavalam bulls, bringing provisions and salt to the temple.

Kosgama Bandar is associated with Kosgama, where he lived in the 18th century or earlier. He refused to pay tribute to the king and from his invocation given elsewhere^[11] it may be gathered that he rebelled and was betrayed by an adherent whom he trusted. He was captured, tied to a tree and shot to death with arrows. Kosgama Bandar was said to be especially helpful in litigation and in recovering lost cattle, but in fact he is of assistance in all ways.

We may now return to Panikki Yaka, who Mr Parker agrees with us may safely be identified as the spirit of the 16th century "Vedda" chief, Panikki the Vedda. In the same manner as this yaka has been remembered and has developed the characters of a Vedda hero, so we believe Kande Yaka and other hero Yaku of the wilder Veddas have arisen, for it is as a mighty Vedda of the old days that the Veddas revere Kande Yaka.

We need only assume that such heroes were unusually successful hunters, stronger personalities than their neighbours, so that their names were held in honour among a people more numerous than their immediate family circle, to see clearly how after their death their names would be continued in memory and their spirits be invoked by those who had admired and feared them, and by their children and children's children. It is entirely in harmony with this view that Kande Yaka should have become the Lord of the Dead, to whom the lesser spirits resort to obtain permission to accept offerings and to aid their still living relatives and former companions.

No reverence is paid to the heavenly bodies, and our old Kandyan informant knew nothing of any worship of the sun or moon. He nevertheless agreed that in his youth as at the present day the Veddas would call the moon Hande Deyo or Sande Deyo and the sun Ira Deyo respectively^[12].

The following translation of the invocation of Godegedara Bandara has been prepared by Mr Parker from a manuscript given me in Ceylon by the Arachi of Potuliyadde.

The Song of the God Godegedara.

1. He is a god of a distant country in the Uva region,
   Having come to this side in the Wellassa region,
   Having raised my joined hands to my head I worship (him) that there may be good luck.
   He is coming, I shall say, the God of (this) region.
2. Is not every one staying in (some) place?
   Having died in its heart what pulse will ripen?
   The God sleeps in the upper heavens.
   The God Godegedara is coming.
3. For an endless time being on the watch we utter songs to the God.
   Should there be mistakes (in them) in the name of charity (or merit) pardon the mistakes.
   Endlessly songs are sung accompanied by beating of the five (kinds of) tom-toms.
   The God Godegedara is powerful (enough) even to give a tusk elephant.
4. When it rises the dusk of the moon lights up the round universe and Dambadiva (India).
   The God Godegedara appears like an inextinguishable lamp (lit. a lamp with its fire enduring by (divine) orders for many years).
   The hair of his head sports in the midst of his back like the play of golden rays acting as his retinue.
   Should King Godegedara come to the seat I shall now receive the betel altar (i.e. the offering will be made, and the officiator will then get the betel which has been offered).

"In the last line there is some doubt about the title of Godegedara; either the expression dera(na) devi means king, that is literally 'god of the earth' or dera has been written by mistake."