AN OLD ACCOUNT OF KAR NICOBAR 283 



" My attention was attracted by a continual murmuring ; I 

 inquired into its cause. It was the singing of some women, 

 who wanted to cure another of her headache. This afforded 

 me at the same time the opportunity of seeing the interior of 

 their houses. I was admitted and allowed to mount, and I 

 found the invalid sitting on her feet, some of the women lying 

 near her, and four standing before her ; one of them held some- 

 thing in her hand, which was supposed to be some article for 

 fumigating ; I could, however, neither see nor smell it. Their 

 whole song consisted of one tone, which was taken first at a 

 very high pitch, but by repeating it so often they slowly sank 

 to the lowest notes, then they paused, and one of them com- 

 menced again very high, and the others chimed in until they 

 had again arrived at the lowest notes. They kept on singing 

 in this way as long as I was there, which, however, was not 

 very long, because it soon grew dark. I felt the invalid's 

 forehead, which was a little warmer than ordinarily and covered 

 with weak perspiration. Her hands were also hot, and her 

 pulse quicker than usual, which symptoms might point to a 

 cold in a body inclined to laziness. 



" The number of children that I met here was not large 

 either, and was far smaller than what I had seen on the coast 

 in villages of equal size. I saw very few animals here ; they 

 kept some pigs near their houses, and the pork is said to be 

 of very good taste here, because they feed the pigs on coconuts. 

 There were also some small hens here, and a female dog, very 

 much like the pariah dogs, which I had seen on the coast, and 

 probably it was brought from there, only it seemed to have 

 shorter legs than the ordinary kind. . . . 



"... As it grew dark I left the country, where I should have 

 liked to stay for some days, but I feared we might not get 

 safely through the high waves. A cicada sang in the wood in 

 a strange manner — for me it was a sad song. In the dark 

 evening I picked up a little piece of seaweed which had been 

 thrown on shore. We were luckier than we had feared to be 

 as regards the starting from shore, which we left after having 



