, who was the patriarch and
chief spokesman of the village, 'this field has been used for years as
a burning ghaut' (i.e. a place where the bodies of dead Hindoos were
buried).

'Well?' said I.

'Well, Sahib, my men say that if they disturb this land, the "Bhoots"
(ghosts) of all those who have been burned there, will haunt the
village at night, and they hope you will not persist in asking them to
dig up the land.'

'Very well, bring down the men with their digging-hoes, and I will
see.'

Accordingly, next morning, I went down on my pony, found the dangurs
all assembled, but no digging going on. I called them together, told
them that it was a very reasonable fear they had, but that I would cast
such a spell on the land as would settle the ghosts of the departed for
ever. I then got a branch of a _bael_[1] tree that grew close by,
dipped it in the stream, and walking backwards round the ground, waved
the dripping branch round my head, repeating at the same time the first
gibberish that came into my recollection. My incantation or spell was
as follows, an old Scotch rhyme I had often repeated when a child at
school--

'Eenerty, feenerty, fickerty, feg,
Ell, dell, domun's egg;
Irky, birky, story, rock,
An, tan, toose, Jock;
Black fish! white troot!
"Gibbie Gaw, ye're oot."'

It had the desired effect. No sooner was my charm uttered, than, after
a few encouraging words to the men, telling them that there was now no
fear, that my charm was powerful enough to lay all the spirits in the
country, and that I would take all the responsibility, they set to work
with a will, and had the whole field dug up by the evening.

I have seen many such cases. A blight attacks the melon or cucumber
beds; a fierce wind rises during the night, and shakes half the mangoes
off the trees; the youngest child is attacked with teething
convulsions; the plough-bullock is accidentally lamed, or the favourite
cow refuses to give milk. In every case it is some 'Dyne,' or witch,
that has been at work with her damnable spells and charms. I remember a
case in which a poor little child had bad convulsions. The 'Ojah,' or
witch-finder, in this case a fat, greasy, oleaginous knave, was sent
for. Full of importance and blowing like a porpoise, he came and caused
the child to be brought to him, under a tree near the village. I was
passing at the time, and stopped out of curiosity. He spread a tattered
cloth in front of him, and muttered