to write at all. This pioneer in knowledge had acquired the Malayālam, the vernacular alphabet, and was able to write simple words and names; and so it was that, when his uncle, a victim of ôḍikal, at the point of death revealed the names of the men who had killed him, he wrote their names on a piece of paper. Then there was a case of murder. Up to this time every Muppan kept in his hut a couple of ôḍikal sticks (Plate I.), just in case they might be wanted for an enemy. Then they disappeared as if by magic, and could not be procured for money. I was, however, able to secure two genuine ones. They were obtained at the very place where, so far as we know, the last ôḍikal deed was done, where, indeed, I made my camp in a lonely glade in the bamboo jungle, and where the whole story of the process of ôḍikal was, in course of time and patience, revealed to me.
It was not made quite clear what offences on the part of an individual rendered him liable to death by ôḍikal. Certainly intriguing with another man's wife was one of them, because it was this which led the last victim to his fate. Mere suspicion, or even proof as we understand it in law, is not sufficient to establish a case of ôḍikal: there must be definite demonstration to the extent of ocular proof. When this has taken place, the aggrieved husband may consult the men of his own pâḍi, who are always related, whether the other man should be killed by ôḍikal; and, if he is unable to convene a satisfactory consultation among those of his own pâḍi, he calls in relatives from elsewhere. Women are never consulted, nor is the subject ever mentioned to them. The conclave considers the whole affair in secrecy, and arrives at a decision whether the other man deserves death by ôḍikal. Decision for death cannot be made without the unanimous consent of the men present. Sometimes the verdict is that the offence is not worthy of death, and then there is an end of it. Or it may be that the risk is too great. If death is decided
