than a lightning god[3]--the trees naturally were incorporations,[4] "not
only of the heavenly fire, but also of the soma, with which the claw and
feather were impregnated."
It is not surprising, therefore, that extraordinary virtues were ascribed
to these lightning plants, qualities which, in no small degree, distinguish
their representatives at the present day. Thus we are told how in India
the mimosa is known as the imperial tree on account of its remarkable
properties, being credited as an efficacious charm against all sorts of
malignant influences, such as the evil eye. Not unlike in colour to the
blossom of the Indian palasa are the red berries of the rowan or
mountain-ash (Pyrus aucuparia), a tree which has acquired European
renown from the Aryan tradition of its being an embodiment of the
lightning from which it was sprung. It has acquired, therefore, a mystic
character, evidences of which are numerously represented throughout
Europe, where its leaves are reverenced as being the most potent
talisman against the darker powers. At the present day we still find the
Highland milkmaid carrying with her a rowan-cross against unforeseen
danger, just as in many a German village twigs are put over stables to
keep out witches. Illustrations of this kind support its widespread
reputation for supernatural virtues, besides showing how closely allied
is much of the folk-lore of our own with that of continental countries. At
the same time, we feel inclined to agree with Mr. Farrer that the red
berries of the mountain-ash probably singled it out from among trees for
worship long before our ancestors had arrived at any idea of abstract
divinities. The beauty of its berries, added to their brilliant red colour,
would naturally excite feelings of admiration and awe, and hence it
would in process of time become invested with a sacred significance. It
must be remembered, too, that all over the world there is a regard for
things red, this colour having been once held sacred to Thor, and Grimm
suggests that it was on this account the robin acquired its sacred
character. Similarly, the Highland women tie a piece of red worsted
thread round their cows' tails previous to turning them out to grass for
the first time in spring, for, in accordance with an old adage:
"Rowan-ash, and red thread,
Keep the devils from their speed."
In the same way the mothers in Esthonia put some red thread in their
babies' cradles as a preservative against danger, and in China something
red is tied round children's wrists as a safeguard against evil spirits. By
the aid of comparative folk-lore it is interesting, as in this case, to trace
the same notion in different countries, although it is by no means
possible to account for such undesigned resemblance. The common ash