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Southland Times, Volume I, Issue 38, 27 August 1864, Page 3

Bohemia. Thb " Witch-Doctobs of Natal-. — There is superstition standing ao an obstacle to the faith and to the improvement of the people, and the stories told of the "witch-doctors" are very strange. Mr. Shepstone, whose name is -well known to all acquainted with Natal, always spoke of the knowledge of these men as something which he could not explain ; and that which was a mystery to him may well be a source of tremendous influence upon the minds of the natives. The Magistrate at the Umhlali spoke of the witchdoctors in the same way. He told the Mackenzies the following story : — He was leaving home, and only two boys were left in his house. He showed one of them, whose name was Usfile, a revolver pistol which was in its case, and desired him not to touch it. When he came home it was broken. Both boys denied any knowledge of the accident, and Usfile said he did not like to be suspected, and wished a witch-doctor to be consulted. There was one come lately from the Zulu country, who knew nothing of European ways or houses. This man being applied to, first chewed some medicine, and then went raging about to get himaolf into i the proper state of phrenzy ; then he threw hirn- | self on the ground, saying there was a snake inside him, and groaned horribly. By a kind of i " magical music " he discovered what was wanted ! from him ; they never told him what they wanted to consult him about. He said, " You do not want to know about cows." The people assented. Then he said, " No, it is not cows ; it is something in the house." The people assented again, more loudly than before. This went on for three hours, the witch-doctor always coming nearer to the truth, till he ended by describing the case with the pi»tol in it, the table under which it lay, how the boy had tried to unscrew it, and that there was another boy with him ; then he pointed to Usfile as the culprit, who confessed. — Goodwin's Memoir of Bishop Nackenzie. The Dead or Bengal. — The government o Bengal has done a very unwise thing. Some ten millions of people, living on the banks of the Ganges, have from time immemorial been in the habit of throwing their dead into the sacred river. They cannot afford to burn them to ashes, and will not bury them, so they char them on the pyres and fling them into the water. The practice has now been prohibited, to the wrath and consternation of all Hindoos, who loudly threaten resistance. The order seems very unwise, for the practice, though we may think it disgusting, does not, like suttee or infanticide, destroy human life, and its effect upon health can hardly be very great. The stream rolls very rapidly, and a traveller may ascend the river every day for years and only perceive the bodies by the vultures perched upon them. If the goveroment insists on its order it must burn the dead at the public expense. Suicide op a Lady oteb the Fails of Niagaba. — At half-past five o'clock on Friday, the 20th ult., we received another special telegram, telling us that Mrs. G-eorge Bender, wife of one of the oldest and most respectable citizens of Clifton, C.W., while laboring uiyler a fit of insanity, threw herself into the river Niagara above Table Eock, and was carried over the Falls. An attempt was made to save her by one man, who seized her shawl and retained it in his hands. This very g^d affair has cast a gloom over the whole

Tub Ravens. — Tha Moors tell a story about the ravens ; I heard it from Sir John Drummond Hay' who enjoined me to make a little tale of it. The Moors think that the ravens, when firßt they come out of tho eggs, are white; and they relate, in a comical manner, how horrified the paternal raven was when the young one crept out, and he perceived that it was white. " What is this ?" cried the little raven's father, inspecting narrowly his own black plumage ; not a white feather was to be Been, and yet the young one was white ! He then looked at the mother, but not a white feather was visible about her either ; so he requested an explanation from her. "I do not understand it," she said, " but in a little time doubtless the right ones will como forth!" "I will fly away from here," he cried : " away — away — away !" and he did fly away. The ■ mother remained with the little one. The father was as angry as he could be, but after he had flown about for some time, he began to think : " Perhaps I have not seen aright ; Iwill go back and look again!" and he went back; he found that the little one had become grey. "So then it is not white !" ho exclaimed, " but still it cannot be called black ; neither its mother nor I are of this color." And ho flew away again. But once more he returned ; and then tho young one had turned black. "Only give ittimeandtherightwillappear." This is the moral, and the father stuck to it afterwards. Such is the story of tho ravens. — In Spain. By Hans Christian Andersen. ■- w: 1 -- .- . „ : ~