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Updated: June 11, 2025
"Rather let him loose the Clouded Tiger upon us. We do not go." "Nor I, though I bore him in my arms when he was a child in this his life. Wait here till the day." "But surely he will be angry." "He will be very angry, for he has nothing to eat. But he has said to me many times that the Bhils are his children. By sunlight I believe this, but by moonlight I am not so sure.
So among the Bhils of India, when a woman was convicted of witchcraft and had been subjected to various forms of persuasion, such as hanging head downwards from a tree and having pepper put into her eyes, a lock of hair was cut from her head and buried in the ground, "that the last link between her and her former powers of mischief might be broken."
You never saw such a skin in your life." The Colonel tugged his moustache thought-fully. "Now, how the deuce," said he, "am I to include that in my report?" Indeed, the official version of the Bhils' anti-vaccination stampede said nothing about Lieutenant John Chinn, his godship. But Bukta knew, and the corps knew, and every Bhil in the Satpura hills knew.
They made him welcome for his father's sake and, as they took stock of him, for his own. He was ridiculously like the portrait of the Colonel on the wall, and when he had washed a little of the dust from his throat he went to his quarters with the old man's short, noiseless jungle-step. "So much for heredity," said the Major. "That comes of four generations among the Bhils."
I may as well round it off neatly." He went on: "If the Satpura Bhils ask the meaning of the sign, tell them that Jan Chinn would see how they kept their old promises of good living. Perhaps they have plundered; perhaps they mean to disobey the orders of the Government; perhaps there is a dead man in the jungle; and so Jan Chinn has come to see." "Is he, then, angry?" "Bah!
Bukta, what is this last tale of children?" Bukta had been a silent leader in Chinn's presence since the night of his desertion, and was grateful for a chance-flung question. They know, Sahib," he whispered. "It is the Clouded Tiger. That that comes from the place where thou didst once sleep. It is thy horse as it has been these three generations." "My horse! That was a dream of the Bhils."
It occurred, so they said at home, in alternate generations, appearing, curiously enough, eight or nine years after birth, and, save that it was part of the Chinn inheritance, would not be considered pretty. He hurried ashore, dressed again, and went on till they met two or three Bhils, who promptly fell on their faces. "My people," grunted Bukta, not condescending to notice them.
What's the old boy supposed to be doing now?" "Riding cross-country by moonlight on his processional tiger. That's the story. He's been seen by about two thousand Bhils, skipping along the tops of the Satpuras, and scaring people to death. They believe it devoutly, and all the Satpura chaps are worshipping away at his shrine- tomb, I mean-like good uns. You really ought to go down there.
They made him welcome for his father's sake and, as they took stock of him, for his own. He was ridiculously like the portrait of the Colonel on the wall, and when he had washed a little of the dust from his throat he went to his quarters with the old man's short, noiseless jungle-step. "So much for heredity," said the Major. "That comes of four generations among the Bhils."
They carried news that it was good and right to be scratched with ghost-knives; that Jan Chinn was indeed reincarnated as a god of free food and drink, and that of all nations the Satpura Bhils stood first in his favour, if they would only refrain from scratching.
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