murderers, and he is at the same time informed that, if he should do so, every member of his family will be treated in the same manner, one every year. It may be that, deeming his answers unconvincing, the death dealers will not trust him, and in such a case they make sure of their own safety by damaging their victim's tongue with thorns in such a way that he is unable to speak. This last piece of devilment was said to be resorted to but seldom. They have now done with him, and, if his pâḍi is not far off, they allow him to walk thither alone. If, however, it is at some distance, and he is suffering from exhaustion, they help him along in a friendly way until he is near enough to reach it unaided.
The wretched man reaches his home knowing well that his death will take place without fail within seven or eight days. In the case which I was able to examine, ôḍikal took place on a Tuesday, and death took place on the following Monday. Kêlu, the victim, was supposed by his family to be suffering from fever, common enough in that malarial district, accompanied by intense pain, until the Saturday, when the appearance of some slight swellings made them at once aware of the truth. He was unable to swallow nourishment in any form, and, racked with pain, sat on the ground holding his hands behind his head. Just before he died, coming back to his senses after a long swoon, he was able to hold up one hand, the fingers distended, and with much difficulty enumerate five names. That was all. His nephew, who was constant in attending upon him and the first Muppan possessing any literary aspirations, at once wrote these names on a scrap of paper. Thus the ôḍikal came under the notice of the local officials, with the result that a charge of murder was launched.
The injuries caused by the taps, dabs, and whacks by the ôḍikal stick which have been described could not have been very obvious, because the medical officer, a subordinate of the government medical department, who held the post-
