village.
During these days everybody is afraid to go alone into the forest for
fear of meeting him, and if a dog or a pig strays in the wood and is
lost, the people make sure that the ghost has made off with the animal,
and the aggrieved owners roundly abuse the sorrowing family, telling
them that their old father or mother, as the case may be, is no better
than a thief. They are also very unwilling to mention the names of dead
persons, imagining that were the ghost to hear his name pronounced he
might fancy he was being called for and might accordingly suspend his
habitual occupation of munching sour fruits in the forest to come and
trouble the living.

[Sidenote: Offerings to ghosts.]

Hence in order to keep the short-tempered ghost in good humour by
satisfying his wants, lest he should think himself neglected and wreak
his vexation on the survivors, the people go a-fishing after a death, or
they kill a pig or a dog; sometimes also they cut down a fruit-tree. But
it is only the souls of the animals which are destined for the
consumption of the ghost; their bodies are roasted and eaten by the
living. On a grave you may sometimes see a small basket suspended from a
stick; but if you look into it you will find nothing but a little soot
and some fish scales, which is all that remains of the fried fish.

[Sidenote: Ghosts provided with fire.]

The Yabim also imagine that the ghost has need of fire to guide him to
the door of the man who has done him to death by sorcery. Accordingly
they provide the spirit with this necessary as follows. On the evening
of the day on which the body has been buried, they kindle a fire on a
potsherd and heap dry leaves on it. As they do so they mention the names
of all the sorcerers they can think of, and he at whose name the
smouldering leaves burst into a bright flame is the one who has done the
deed. Having thus ascertained the true cause of death, beyond reach of
cavil, they proceed to light up the ghost to the door of his murderer.
For this purpose a procession is formed. A man, holding the smouldering
fire in the potsherd with one hand and a bundle of straw with the other,
leads the way. He is followed by another who draws droning notes from a
water-bottle of the deceased, which he finally smashes. After these two
march a number of young fellows who make a plumping sound by smacking
their thighs with the hollow of their hands. This solemn procession
wends its way to a path in the nei