Insects.

Even insects are in some cases regarded with veneration. In Cornwall, the ants are “the small people” in their state of decay from off the earth; it is deemed most unlucky to destroy a colony of ants.163

The ant-hill is, as we have seen, used as an altar by some of the Drâvidian tribes, and on it they take their oaths. Hence ants are carefully fed on certain days by both Hindus and Jainas, and are regarded as in some way connected with the souls of the sainted dead. We have in many of the folk-tales the ant as a helper.

So, in many parts of the Panjâb, the many-coloured grasshopper, which feeds on the leaves of the Madâr or great swallow wort, is called Râmjî-kî-gâê or “Râma’s cow,” which reminds us of the respect paid by English children to the ladybird insect.164 So, the Greeks and Romans called the Cicada Mantis or “the soothsayer,” and it is often delineated on their tombs as a charm against evil. Mystic powers of the same kind are attributed to the spider, and to Daddy Longlegs in our nurseries.

The souls of the dead are believed to enter into flies and bees. Hence in parts of Great Britain news of a death in a family is whispered into the beehive.165 In one of Somadeva’s tales we find the monkeys trying to warm themselves over a firefly, which is gifted with various miraculous powers.166 A fly falling into an inkstand is a lucky omen. In the Râmâyana Hanumân metamorphoses himself into a fly to reach Sîtâ, and there are many instances of this in the tales.

Lastly, comes the Tassar silkworm. In Mirzapur, when the seed of the silkworm is brought to the house, the Kol or Bhuiyâr puts it in a place which has been carefully plastered with cowdung to bring good luck. From that time the owner must be careful to avoid ceremonial impurity; he must give up cohabitation with his wife, he must not sleep on a bed, he must not shave nor have his nails cut, nor anoint himself with oil, nor eat food cooked with butter, nor tell lies, nor do anything opposed to his simple code of morality. He vows to Singârmatî Devî that if the worms are duly born he will make her an offering. When the cocoons open and the worms appear, he collects the women of his house and they sing the usual song as at the birth of a baby into the family, and some red lead is smeared on the parting of the hair of all the married women of the neighbourhood. He feeds his clansmen, and duly makes the promised offering to Singârmatî Devî. When the worms pair, the rejoicings are made as at a marriage.

In Bengal, in addition to these precautions, the women, apparently through fear of sexual pollution, are carefully excluded from the silkworm shed.167 We have the same idea in the Western Isles of Scotland, where they send a man very early on the morning of the first of May to prevent any woman from crossing, for that, they say, would prevent the salmon from coming into the river all the year round.168