It occasionally
happens, that the flesh in which the hooks are fastened gives way, in
which case the poor creature is dashed to the ground. When this occurs,
the people hold him in the greatest abhorrence. They judge him to be a
great criminal, and suppose that he has met a violent death in
consequence of sins which he committed in a former birth.
Not long since, I attended one of these hook-swingings, not far from the
city of Madura. It took place on the morning of June 8th, 1848, just
twenty-nine years after I first left America for India. It should have
taken place on the preceding afternoon; but one of the axle-trees of the
car, which was to support the machine on which the man was to be
elevated in the air, was broken. Nothing, of course, could be done until
it was repaired. The carpenters and others worked with great diligence
until about eleven o'clock at night, when every thing was prepared for
the swinging. I expected immediately after this to witness the ceremony.
It however did not take place until the morning. While waiting for the
man who was to be swung to make his appearance, I took a pencil and made
a drawing of the machine to which he was to be fastened.
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