care to tear the intruder's cloth, tie up some salt in one corner of it, and turn him out. This is supposed to neutralize all the good luck which might have accrued to the trespasser, and avert any evil which might have befallen the owner of the house. All the thousand-and- one castes, whose members find a home in the village, unhesitatingly admit that the Kulwādi is de jure the rightful owner of the village. He who was is still, in a limited sense, ' lord of the village manor.' If there is a dispute as to the village boundaries, the Kulwādi is the only one competent to take the oath as to how the boundary ought to run. The old custom for settling such disputes was as follows. The Kulwādi, carrying on his head a ball made of the village earth, in the centre of which is placed some water, passes along the boundary. If he has kept the proper line, everything goes well; but should he, by accident, even go beyond his own proper boundary, then the ball of earth, of its own accord, goes to pieces, the Kulwādi dies within fifteen days, and his house becomes a ruin. Such is the popular belief. Again, the skins of all animals dying within the village boundaries are the property of the Kulwādi, and a good income he makes from this source. To this day a village boundary dispute is often decided by this one fact. If the Kulwādis agree, the other inhabitants of the villages can say no more. When — in our forefathers' days, as the natives say — a village was first established, a stone called ' karu kallu ' is set up. To this stone the Patel once a year makes an offering. The Kulwādi, after the ceremony is over, is entitled to carry off the rice, etc., offered. In cases where there is no Patel, the Kulwādi goes through the yearly ceremony. But what I think proves strongly that the Holia was the first to take possession of the soil is that the Kulwādi receives, and is
