Chapter IV: Myths and Legends (1)

The Andamanese have a number of stories which are told to the younger people by their elders and relate to the doings of their ancestors in a time long ago. Some of these stories are recorded in the present chapter. A difficulty in the way of giving any clear and readable account of them is the fact that there are many slightly different versions of one and the same legend. To some extent the variations are local, each tribe, and even each portion of a tribe having its own set of legendary stories. Besides these local variations there are also individual variations. Two men of the same tribe may relate what is substantially the same story, yet each chooses his own words and gestures, and to some extent they may even arrange the incidents differently.

In the last chapter it was mentioned that there are certain individuals, known as oko-ǰumu in the North Andaman and oko-paiad in the South, who are believed to have special knowledge as to the spirits and as to the magical efficacy of remedies for sickness. It is these oko-ǰumu also who are the authorities on the legendary lore of the Andamanese. In the case of magical remedies there is a certain common stock of beliefs as to the efficacy to be attributed to different substances, such as leaves of different plants, and on the basis of these beliefs the oko-ǰumu elaborates the remedies that he uses in particular cases. Each oko-ǰumu, however, prides himself on being, to some extent, original. An example of this has been already mentioned. When a great storm arose an oko-ǰumu of one of the Northern tribes succeeded in stopping it (in the belief of the natives) by placing a piece of the crushed stem of the Anadendron creeper under a particular stone in the sea. On a later occasion another storm arose, and the successor of the first-mentioned oko-ǰumu was appealed to that he might exert his powers. He did not simply imitate his predecessor, but he placed a piece of crushed bark and twigs of the Ficus laccifera in the sea under a different stone. In very much the same way there is a common stock of beliefs as to the events that took place in the time of the ancestors, but each oko-ǰumu builds up on this basis his own particular set of legends, so that it is rarely that two of them tell the same story in the same way. An oko-ǰumu may obtain for himself a reputation by relating legends of the ancestors in a vivid and amusing way. Such a man would be able to invent new stories by combining together in his own way some of the traditional incidents. The desire on the part of each oko-ǰumu to be original and so to enhance his own reputation is a fertile source of variation in the legends.

This lack of traditional form, which is a very important characteristic of the Andamanese mythology, may be compared with their lack of traditional songs. Just as every man composes his own songs, so, within certain limits, every oko-ǰumu relates in his own way the legends of his tribe. But whereas every man is a composer of songs, only a certain number are regarded as having authority to speak on the legends.

Underlying the legends of any tribe there are a certain number of beliefs or representations with which every native is familiar. It is on the basis of these that the oko-ǰumu elaborates his own doctrine, if we may call it so, which he hands on to his followers, who in turn may become oko-ǰumu and produce further slight modifications of their own. Thus the legends are continually being changed, though in any one generation the changes introduced are slight, and it would take a long time for important changes in belief to be brought about. There is evidence, however, that a succession of leading men in the A-Pučikwar tribe have succeeded in introducing a new doctrine as to the weather, making Bilik the name of a class of beings instead of the name of a single being, and that this doctrine, while it has not entirely ousted the former beliefs, has yet succeeded in gaining currency not only in the A-Pučikwar tribe, but also in the Aka-Ko̱l and O̱ko̱-J̌uwo̱i tribes.

At the present time it is only possible to recover a small part of the many different legends with their variants. The introduction of many new interests into the lives of the natives, through the European settlement and the many changes it has produced, has caused the ancient legends to be neglected. Most of the old oko-ǰumu have died without leaving any followers to take their place. Many of the legends recorded here are merely what some of the men not specially skilled in legendary lore can remember of the stories told them in former days by oko-ǰumu who are now dead.

One feature of the legends that must be pointed out is their unsystematic nature. The same informant may give, on different occasions, two entirely different versions of such a thing as the origin of fire, or the beginning of the human race. The Andamanese, to all appearance, regard each little story as independent, and do not consciously compare one with another. They thus seem to be entirely unconscious of what are obvious contradictions to the student of the legends. It is necessary to emphasise the fragmentary and unsystematic nature of the Andaman mythology because Mr Man, in his work on the Andamanese, has brought together a number of legends from the tribes of the South Andaman and has combined them into a continuous and fairly consistent narrative, and has thus, undoubtedly not intentionally, given a wrong impression to the reader of what the nature of the disconnected stories really is. While each of the stories included in Mr Man’s account is derived directly from the natives, it would seem certain that the arrangement of them into a more or less consistent narrative is due to Mr Man.

In recording the legends in this chapter, only the English translation is given. In some cases the legends were translated on the spot and written down in English. In other cases they were written down in the native language and then translated. When I was recording the legends I very frequently had to ask what was meant by a particular statement, the meaning of which might be quite clear to a native, but which was obscure to one not accustomed to thinking in the same way as the natives. In some cases I could obtain no satisfactory explanation, and such legends are given in this chapter in as nearly as possible an exact literal translation of the original. In other cases the explanations given by the natives have been incorporated in the translation itself.

In order to give the reader a fair idea of the nature of the legends as they are told, one is here given in the native language (Aka-Čari) with a word-for-word translation.

A Maia Dik iǰokoduko; o ko̱nmo teč inǰukte̱rto̱ia;
Sir Prawn makes fire; yam leaf catches fire;

ko̱nmo teč bi ikterbie; kete uiǰoko; uiǰokobiko;
yam leaf is dry; that one it burns; he makes a fire;

Maia Dik ubenoba; Maia Totemo emato; uǰokil uektebalo;
Sir Prawn slept; Sir Kingfisher takes; he fire with he runs away

Maia Totemo ǰokobiko; Maia Totemo taǰeo ubiko;
Sir Kingfisher makes a fire; Sir Kingfisher fish (food) cooks;

upetil ubeno; Maia Mite ǰuktebalo uemato.
his belly in he sleeps; Sir Dove runs away taking.

The above translation is hardly comprehensible without a little explanation. The word iǰoko means “something burns,” the word ubiko means “he cooks (by roasting).” The compound iǰokobiko may mean either “he makes a fire and cooks something at it” or it may simply mean “he makes up a fire (by adding firewood).” The word iǰokoduko has a quite different meaning, “to produce fire.” The derivation of inǰukte̱rto̱ia is uncertain, as I am not sure of the proper use of er-to̱ia; it is translated on the basis of the explanation given me by the man who told the story. The word ikterbie is descriptive of the dryness of dead leaves.

A free translation would be as follows: “It was Sir Prawn who first produced or obtained fire. Some yam leaves, being shrivelled and dry by reason of the hot weather, caught fire and burnt. The prawn made a fire with some firewood and went to sleep. The kingfisher stole fire and ran away with it. He made a fire and cooked some fish. When he had filled his belly he went to sleep. The dove stole fire from the kingfisher and ran away.” It is implied that it was the dove who gave the fire to the ancestors of the Andamanese.

Versions of legends of the origin of fire are given by Mr Portman, in each of the languages of the Southern group of tribes. [95]

All the legends relate to events that are supposed to have happened in the past, and deal with the doings of the ancestors of the Andamanese. In the North Andaman the ancestors are sometimes called Lau t’er-kuro, i.e. the big spirits, “big” being used in the sense of our word “chief.” Another term for them is N’a-mai-koloko, from n’ or nio = they, aka-mai = father, and koloko = people, so that the phrase literally means “the father people,” or the ancestors. In the South Andaman the ancestors are sometimes called Čauga tabaŋa, which is the equivalent of Lau t’er-kuro. Mr Man seems to have misunderstood the exact meaning of this term. He writes: “Lači Lora-lola, the chief of the survivors from the Deluge [96], gave, at his death, the name of Čauga tabaŋa to their descendants.... The Čauga tabaŋa are described as fine tall men with large beards, and they are said to have been long lived, but, in other respects and in their mode of living they did not differ from the present inhabitants. The name seems to have been borne till comparatively recent times, as a few still living are said to remember having seen the last of the so-called Čauga tabaŋa [97].”

Mr Man has evidently not realised that the term čauga cannot be applied to any living Andamanese, but may be applied to every dead one. The Čauga are the spirits of dead natives, and new Čauga are continually coming into existence by death. Any person who is of such importance when alive as to form the subject of legends or stories after his death may be distinguished (after his death only) as a Čauga tabaŋa. The name may thus be applied to the purely mythical ancestors of the legends, and also to the spirits of men recently dead whose memory is preserved owing to fame acquired in some way when they were alive. It is thus possible that some of the natives with whom Mr Man formerly conversed are now Čauga tabaŋa, i.e. big spirits, having been “big men” when they were alive.

Another name sometimes used in the South Andaman to denote the ancestors is Tomo-la [98]. This word, however, is sometimes used in the singular to denote the mythical first man. Its use is thus similar to that of the name Bilik in the A-Pučikwar tribe, which is used both as the name of a single mythical being and also as the name of a class of beings. Only the early ancestors of the Andamanese, i.e. those about whom the legends are related, can be called Tomo-la.

Among the ancestors who appear in the legends there are a few who bear names that are used as personal names of men and women at the present time, and who appear in the legends simply as men and women. The larger number of the ancestors, however, bear names that are those of species of animals. In each case the ancestor is identified with the species which bears the same name. Yet others of the mythical ancestors have names that are neither personal names at the present day, nor names of animals. It may perhaps be supposed that in all such cases the name has some sort of meaning, but in many instances it was not found possible to discover the meaning with certainty.

When speaking of the ancestors, the natives generally add to the name the appropriate title. These titles are, in the North Andaman Maia (Sir) and Mimi (Lady), in Akar-Bale Da (Sir) and In (Lady), and in Aka-Bea Maia and Čana.

There are legends as to the origin of mankind, i.e., of their own race, for they did not recognize, until recently, the existence of any men of other races than their own, calling aliens Lau (spirits). There is, however, no unanimity in their beliefs as to how mankind originated, even in any one tribe. An Aka-Bo legend is as follows:

“The first man was J̌utpu [99]. He was born inside the joint of a big bamboo, just like a bird in an egg [100]. The bamboo split and he came out. He was a little child. When it rained he made a small hut for himself and lived in it. He made little bows and arrows. As he grew bigger he made bigger huts, and bigger bows and arrows. One day he found a lump of quartz and with it he scarified himself. J̌utpu was lonely, living all by himself. He took some clay (ko̱t) from a nest of the white ants and moulded it into the shape of a woman. She became alive and became his wife. She was called Ko̱t. They lived together at Teraut-buliu. Afterwards J̌utpu made other people out of clay. These were the ancestors. J̌utpu taught them how to make canoes and bows and arrows, and how to hunt and fish. His wife taught the women how to make baskets and nets and mats and belts, and how to use clay for making patterns on the body.”

The same story was told me by Aka-J̌eru men, the only difference being that they gave the name of the place where J̌utpu lived differently, mentioning a spot in the Aka-J̌eru country.

From the Aka-J̌eru I also obtained what is really another version of the same legend, though the name of the first ancestor is given differently. “The first man came out of the buttress of a po̱ičo (Sterculia) tree, and was called Po̱ičotobut (Sterculia buttress). He had no wife, so he cohabited with an ant’s nest (ko̱t) and thus obtained a large number of children. These were the first Andamanese, and Po̱ičotobut taught them all their arts and customs. Po̱ičotobut lived at Bo̱ro̱ŋ Buliu (in Aka-J̌eru country).”

The association between the origin of the Andamanese and an ant’s nest (ko̱t) is retained in another legend, told by an Aka-J̌eru man. “Tarai (the south-west monsoon) was the first man. His wife was Ko̱t. They lived at Tarai-era-poŋ [101]. Their children were Tau (the sky), Bo̱to (wind), Piribi (storm), and Air (the foam on a rough sea).”

An entirely different legend, of which, however, I could not obtain a detailed version, is also found in the Aka-J̌eru tribe. This is to the effect that the first living being was Maia Čara [102]. He made the earth, and caused it to be peopled with inhabitants. He also made the sun and moon. In the last chapter Čara was mentioned as a mythical being associated with the sun, with daylight and with fine weather. One of my informants of the Aka-J̌eru tribe said that Čara had a wife named Nimi (a common personal name), and that his children were Čeo (knife), Ino (water), Loto, and Luk. It is Maia Čara, according to one commonly received account, who makes the daylight every day.

I could not obtain any Aka-Kede legend as to the origin of mankind. One informant of that tribe said that it was Bilika (the north-east monsoon) who made the world and the first men and women, but he could give me no detailed legend.

In the Aka-Ko̱l and A-Pučikwar tribes there are several versions of a legend that makes the monitor lizard (Varanus salvator) the progenitor of the Andaman race. In all the versions there is no mention of how the lizard himself originated. The following was told me by an Aka-Ko̱l man. “When Ta Pe̱tie (Sir Monitor Lizard) was aka-go̱i (i.e. unmarried, but having completed the initiation ceremonies), he went into the jungle to hunt pig. He climbed up a Dipterocarpus tree, and got stuck there [103]. Beyan (civet-cat, Paradoxurus) found him there, stuck in the tree. She released him and helped him to get down. The two got married. Their children were the Tomo-la (i.e. the ancestors).”

Another legend telling how the monitor lizard obtained a wife was related to me on more than one occasion by A-Pučikwar men. “The first of the ancestors (Tomo-la) was Ta Pe̱tie (Sir Monitor Lizard). He lived at Tomo-la-tog. At first he had no wife. One day, when he was out fishing, he found a piece of black wood of the kind called ko̱lotat (Diospyros sp.). He found it in the creek, and brought it to his hut, where he put it on the little platform over the fire [104]. He sat down by the fire and set to work over an arrow that he was making. As he bent over his work he did not see what was happening. By and by he heard some one laugh, and looked up. Then he saw that the piece of wood had turned into a woman. He got up and took her down from the platform. She sat down with him and became his wife. They had a son named Po̱i (a species of small bird, possibly a woodpecker), and afterwards many other children. They lived together for a long time at Tomo-la-tog. One day Ta Pe̱tie went fishing and was drowned in the creek. He turned into a kara-duku.”

There is some doubt about the translation of the word kara-duku. It is an Aka-Bea word, although it was used as given above, by an A-Pučikwar man. Mr Man translates it “cachalot.” Mr Portman says that kara-duku is “crocodile,” but that the cachalot, the proper name of which is biriga-ta, is also sometimes called kara-duku [105]. The only authority for the existence of crocodiles in the Andamans is the statement of Mr Portman, who says that the natives killed one in the Middle Andaman and brought the bones to him. Although I was in many of the creeks of the Andamans at different times I never saw a crocodile, and none of the other officers of the Settlement, who have repeatedly explored a large part of the islands, ever seems to have seen one, so that the one recorded by Mr Portman may possibly have been a single one that had come oversea from the mainland of Asia.

Another A-Pučikrwa account of the origin of the first woman Ko̱lotat, is as follows: “At first there were no women, only men. A man called Ko̱lotat came to live in the A-Pučikwar country. Ta Pe̱tie (Sir Monitor Lizard) caught him and cut off his genitals and made him into a woman. She became his wife. Their children were the first of the ancestors (Tomo-la).”

Another account given by members of the A-Pučikwar tribe is that the first man was Tomo, or Tomo-la. One version that I heard is that Tomo made the world and peopled it with the ancestors. He made the moon (Puki) who is his wife. Tomo and his wife invented all the arts of the Andamanese and taught them to the ancestors. After his death Tomo went to live in the sky, where he now is. It is Tomo who sends the fine weather, while Bilik sends the bad weather. In the world where Tomo now lives it is always daylight and is always fine. When men die their spirits go up to the sky and live with Tomo. The man who gave me this version said that he did not know how Tomo originated, but was quite sure that he was not made by Bilik. Tomo came first and Bilik came afterwards. The Andamanese are all the children of Tomo [106].

In disagreement with this story, another man of the same tribe said that Tomo was made by Bilik. He (i.e., Tomo) had a wife Mita (Dove), and they were the ancestors of the Andamanese. Yet another informant said: “Ta Tomo was the first man. He made bows and arrows and canoes. His canoes were made of the wood of the Pandanus tree. Mita (Dove) was his wife. It was she who first made nets and baskets and discovered the uses of red paint and white clay.” When I asked how Tomo and his wife originated my informant replied that he did not know.

A species of bird (perhaps a woodpecker), called Po̱i in A-Pučikwar and Ko̱io in Aka-Ko̱l, is often said to have been the son of Tomo. I was once told that Ko̱io was the first of the Andamanese, from whom they are all descended, and that his wife was Mita. Another informant said that Pe̱tie (Monitor Lizard) was the first man and Mita was his wife, while still another stated that Ta Mita (Sir Dove) was the progenitor of the race, making the dove male instead of female. These different versions will give some idea of the contradictory nature of the statements of the Andamanese. All of them come from only two tribes, the A-Pučikwar and the Aka-Ko̱l.

From the Akar-Bale tribe I obtained the following legend. “Puluga made the first of the ancestors. He made one man and one woman called Nyali and Irap [107]. He gave them fire, and taught them how to hunt and fish, and how to make bows and arrows and baskets and nets. The place where they lived is called Irap because they lived there [108].”

Another Akar-Bale version is that the first man was Da Duku (Sir Monitor Lizard), and that his wife was In Bain (Lady Civet-cat).

Mr E. H. Man, in his account of the South Andaman, says that there are a few discrepancies in their accounts of the creation and origin of the human species, but in the main features all the natives with whom he spoke are agreed. The world was created by Puluga, who then made a man named Tomo, the first of the human race. Tomo was black, like the present Andamanese, but was much taller and bearded. Puluga showed him the various fruit-trees in the jungle, which then existed only at Wota-emi, a spot in the country of the A-Pučikwar tribe. The wife of Tomo was Čana Elewadi (Lady Crab), and as to her origin there are different legends. According to some, Puluga created her after he had taught Tomo how to sustain life; others say that Tomo saw her swimming near his home and called to her, whereupon she landed and lived with him; while a third story represents her as coming pregnant to Kyd Island, where she gave birth to several male and female children, who subsequently became the progenitors of the present race. Tomo had two sons and two daughters by Čana Elewadi; the names of the former were Biro-la and Bo̱ro-la, and of the latter Rie-la and Čo̱rmi-la.

A story that tells how Tomo came to his end states that one day, while hunting, he fell into the creek called Yara-tig-ǰig and was drowned. He was at once transformed into a kara-duku (which Mr Man translates as “cachalot”). Čana Elewadi, ignorant of the accident that had befallen her husband, went in a canoe with some of her grandchildren to ascertain the cause of his continued absence; on seeing them, Kara-duku upset their skiff and drowned his wife and most of her companions. She became a small crab, of a description still named after her, elewadi, and the others were transformed into lizards (duku). Another version of this story is that, wearied with an unsuccessful day’s hunting, Tomo went to the shore, where he found a čidi (Pinna) shell-fish; while playing with it, it fastened on him, and he was unable to free himself until a baian (Paradoxurus) seized the čidi and liberated him at the expense of one of his members. Shortly after this he saw his wife and some of their children coming after him in a canoe; unwilling that they should become aware of the misfortune that had befallen him he upset the canoe, drowning its occupants and himself. He then became kara-duku, and the others duku, which are now plentiful in the jungles [109].

In some of the preceding legends reference is made to Biliku or Puluga. There is a very general belief, in all parts of the islands, that in the time of the ancestors, Biliku or Puluga lived on earth. Each tribe has at least one spot in its territory that is pointed out as the place where Biliku (or Puluga) lived. In some tribes there are three or four such places, each of which is claimed as the original home of Biliku by the people living in the neighbourhood. In many cases the name of the spot contains a reference to the legend, as Puluga l’od-baraiǰ (the village of Puluga) in Akar-Bale or Biliku era-poŋ (the cave of Biliku) in the North Andaman.

I was able to obtain a few legends relating to the time when Biliku lived on earth, though there were probably many more that I was not fortunate enough to hear.

The following is an Aka-J̌eru legend:

“In the time of the ancestors Biliku lived at Ar-ko̱l. One day the people caught a turtle and brought it to the camp. Biliku was sitting there. They asked her if she would eat some of it. She said ‘No.’ They put the meat in the roof of the hut and went away. When they had gone Biliku ate the whole turtle. Then she went to sleep. The people came back and found the turtle gone. They said ‘Biliku has eaten it.’ They left the camp and all went to Tebi-čiro. They left Biliku asleep. Some of the people went to hunt for turtle. Their canoe passed near Ar-ko̱l. Biliku saw the people in the canoe. She called to them and asked to be taken with them. The people refused saying ‘You ate up all the turtle.’ Biliku had a round stone and several be shells (pearl shells). She threw the shells at the people in the canoe. The first shell did not hit them but came back and fell at her feet; and so also with the second. Then Biliku got very angry and threw a third time. The shell struck the canoe and killed all the people in it. The canoe and its occupants became a reef of rocks that is still there. The other people at Tebi-čiro called across to Biliku saying ‘Come over here.’ She answered ‘Very well! I am coming.’ She took the stone that she had and put it in the sea, and it floated. She got on to it to cross over. When she had got half way across Biliku and her stone sank in the sea. They became two big rocks that are there still.” This legend refers to the west coast of the North Andaman. The pearl shells that Biliku throws seem to be lightning, and the round stone the one that she rolls about to make thunder.

A few other statements about Biliku and Tarai from the four tribes of the North Andaman are given below just as they were taken down in my note-books.

(1) “Biliku lived at Pura-’ra-poŋ in the time of the ancestors. Her husband was Pe̱rǰido and her children Totaimo, Mite (cicada) and Tarai. She made the sun and the moon. It was she who first invented all the things that are now made and used by women, such as baskets, nets, etc., and it was she who discovered fire, and who first discovered the use of edible roots such as ko̱nmo and mino (two species of Dioscorea).”

(2) “Biliku used to live at Čaura. She had a husband Tarai and a son Pe̱rǰido, and a daughter Mite. She used to live only on certain vegetable foods, lo̱ito, pata, bui, čo, ko̱nmo and mino and others. It was Biliku who made the earth (the forest, ti-miku). She began at Čaura.”

(3) “Biliku lived at Ar-Ko̱l in the time of the ancestors. Her husband was Tarai and their children were the birds, To̱ro̱i, Taka, Čoto̱t, Poruatoko, Kelil, Mite, Čo̱pčura, Benye, Biratkoro, Čereo, Milidu, Bobelo, Ko̱lo, and Teo.” (Aka-J̌eru.)

(4) “Biliku lived at Poroket. She was unmarried. She had a son Pe̱rǰido, and her other children were To̱ro̱i, Čelene, Čoto̱t and Čerei. (These four are the names of birds.) It was Pe̱rǰido who invented all the arts of the Andamanese such as their bows and arrows, etc.” (Aka-Bo?)

(5) “Biliku used to live at Peč-meo with her husband To̱ro̱i (a bird). She used to eat lo̱ito, and when anyone else ate that root she was angry. Tarai lived at Čaroŋa with his wife Kelil (a bird). He ate only mikulu.” (Aka-Ko̱ra.)

(6) “Tarai has very long legs and a short body. He used to live on a small island beyond Interview Island, which is now submerged. When Tarai goes to sleep he breathes very heavily and this makes the wind.”

The next is an Aka-Kede legend. “In the days of the ancestors Bilika lived at Purum-at-čape in the Aka-Kede country, with her husband Po̱ro̱kul. One day Po̱ro̱kul was out hunting. He returned with a pig that he had killed and came to the creek on the other side of which was his home (Co̱ti-te̱r-buli Buliu). Laden as he was with the pig he could not swim across the creek. Bilika was sleeping, but her children were playing near and saw their father on the other side of the creek. They ran and told their mother that their father was coming but could not cross the creek. Bilika went and lay down on one bank of the creek and stretched out her leg so that it reached the other bank. Po̱ro̱kul walked across her leg and so reached home.”

While it is clear from this legend that Bilika was of super-human size, the same was also true of her husband, if we may judge from another legend. “Po̱ro̱kul made for himself a bow (of the large southern pattern), with which to shoot pig. At this time the sky was low down near the earth, only just above the tops of the trees. When Po̱ro̱kul had finished his bow he lifted it upright. The top of it struck the sky and lifted it up to its present position where it has remained ever since.”

In another legend from another part of the Aka-Kede tribe Bilika is spoken of as being male. “Bilika lived at Po̱ro̱ŋ-et-čo with his wife Mite. They had a child. The ancestors ate Bilika’s food, lo̱ito and kata and other plants. Bilika was very angry. He used to smell their mouths to see if they had eaten his food. When he found a man or woman who had done so he would cut his throat. The ancestors were very angry with Bilika, because he killed the men and women when they ate his foods. They all came together and killed Bilika and his wife Mite. Maia Burto (a species of fish) took the child (of Bilika) away to the north-east.”

Owing to my lack of knowledge of the Aka-Kede language there are some points of the above legend that remain obscure. I think that the child of Bilika is also named Bilika, and that it is he (or she) who now lives in the north-east and sends the storms. The plants (lo̱ito, kata, etc.), called here the “food” of Bilika, are those mentioned in the last chapter as specially belonging to Bilika, who is angry when the natives eat them. As regards the name, Mite, of Bilika’s wife, I do not know whether this is the name of the bronze-winged dove, or of the cicada. In some of the Andamanese languages the names of these two are very similar, the only difference being a very slight one in the way of pronouncing the two vowels.

The A-Pučikwar people who live on the east coast of Baratang Island say that in the beginning the ancestors lived at a place called Wota-emi, and Bilik lived opposite to them across the strait at a place called To̱l-l’oko-tima. In a rock at Wota-emi there is a large peculiarly shaped hollow. This is said to be where Bilik used to sit when he was on earth.

An Akar-Bale legend is as follows. “In the days of the ancestors Puluga lived at J̌ila off the east coast of Henry Lawrence Island and the ancestors lived at Puluga l’od-baraiǰ (the village of Puluga) on the main island just opposite to J̌ila. Puluga was always getting angry with the ancestors, because they dug up yams and ate čakan (Entada scandens) and barata (Caryota sobolifera). When he was angry he used to destroy their huts and property. So the people sent him out of the world, saying ‘We do not want you here. You are always angry with us.’ Puluga went away to the north-east.”

It is worth while to note that J̌ila is north-east from Puluga l’od-baraiǰ, just as To̱l-l’oko-tima is north-east from Wota-emi. In both cases there is a narrow strait between the place where the ancestors lived and the home of Puluga or Bilik.

There are a number of different legends that relate how the ancestors first obtained fire [110]. In many of these legends there is a reference to Biliku or Puluga. A common statement in the North Andaman is that “Fire was stolen from Biliku by Maia Tiritmo (Sir Kingfisher).” Some of the legends give further details. An Aka-Čari legend is as follows:

“Biliku had a red stone and a pearl shell (be). She struck them together and obtained fire. She collected firewood and made a fire. She went to sleep. Mite (the bronze-winged dove) came and stole fire. He made a fire for himself. He gave fire to all the people in the village. Afterwards fire was given to all the places. Each village had its own.”

The next is an Aka-J̌eru version.

“In the days of the ancestors they had no fire. Biliku had fire. While Biliku slept Maia Lirčitmo (Sir Kingfisher) came and stole fire. As he was taking the fire Biliku awoke and saw him. Lirčitmo swallowed the fire. Biliku took a pearl shell (be) and threw it at Lirčitmo and cut off his head. The fire came out (of his neck). The ancestors got the fire. Lirčitmo became a bird.”

The next is also, I believe, an Aka-J̌eru story. “Maia Tiritmo (Sir Kingfisher) lived at Tolepar Buruin. He had no fire. When he caught fish he had no fire with which to cook it. He went to the place where Čo̱kčura (heron) lived. There was no fire there. Tiritmo took some rotten wood of the piń tree and hit it on a rock, and thus made fire. He gave fire to Čo̱kčura. Čo̱kčura gave fire to Totemo (a species of kingfisher). Totemo gave it to all the others.”

A slightly different and less detailed version of the same story is as follows:

“Tiritmo made fire. Totemo stole fire (from Tiritmo) and gave it to Mo̱ičo (Rail). Mo̱ičo gave fire to all the people.”

The next version, which was taken down in Aka-J̌eru, I did not fully understand.

“Some one shot an arrow. The arrow hit the hill of fire. Tiriń (a species of kingfisher) found the arrow. It was on fire. He took the fire to his camp. He would not give fire to any one. The others asked him. They went to their homes. At night they came to Tiriń’s hut and stole fire. They went away, each to his own place.”

There is a certain amount of obscurity about two other versions, which are given in a translation as nearly literal as possible. “Maia Dik (Sir Prawn) made fire. Some ko̱nmo (yam) leaves caught fire, being dry. Maia Dik made a fire. Maia Dik slept. Maia Totemo (Sir Kingfisher) stole fire and ran away. Maia Totemo made a fire. He cooked fish. When he had eaten, he slept. Maia Mite (Sir Dove) stole fire (from Totemo) and ran away.”

The other is as follows. “Piribi got fire from a stone. He threw fire at Bilika. It set some ko̱nmo (yam) leaves on fire. Čo̱rolo (Parrot) got fire (from the burning leaves). He gave it to the ancestors.”

These two legends were taken down in Aka-Čari, but they are perhaps really Aka-Ko̱ra or Aka-J̌eru stories. I have the word piribi in my notes as meaning a storm, but the translation is doubtful.

The next is an Aka-Kede version of what is the most widespread of the legends.

“The ancestors had no fire. Bilika had fire. The ancestors tried to steal fire from Bilika. Lirtit (Kingfisher) went one night while Bilika was sleeping and stole fire. Bilika awoke and saw him going away with the fire. She threw a pearl shell (ba) at him, which cut off his wings and his tail. Lirtit dived into the water and swam with the fire to Bet-’ra-kudu and gave it to Te̱pe. Te̱pe gave fire to Mite (the bronze-winged dove). Mite gave it to the others [111].”

An Aka-Kede legend of the origin of the sun may conveniently be given in this place, as it is connected with the possession of fire by Bilika. “Bilika made fire of purum wood. One day, when she was very angry, she started throwing fire about. One large fire-brand she threw into the sky, and there it became the sun.” This legend explains the name of the place Purum-at-čape, at which Bilika is said to have lived when on earth. Purum is the name of a tree, not identified; at means either “fire” or “fire-wood,” and čape means a village or a hut. The whole word therefore means “Purum fire village.”

I did not obtain any legend of the origin of fire from the Oko̱-J̌uwo̱i and Aka-Ko̱l tribes, but a version from each of these tribes has been given by Mr Portman. A translation of Mr Portman’s Oko̱-J̌uwo̱i story is as follows [112]. “Mo̱m Mirit [113] stole a fire-brand from Kuro-t’on-mika while Bilik was sleeping. He gave the brand to the late Leč, who then made fire at Karat-tatak-emi.”

Mr Portman’s Aka-Ko̱l story is somewhat obscure. “Bilik was sleeping at To̱l-l’oko-tima. Luratut (Kingfisher) took away fire to Oko-emi. Ko̱lotat went to Min-to̱ŋ-ta (taking with him fire from Oko-emi). At Min-to̱ŋ-ta the fire went out. Ko̱lotat broke up the charred firewood and made fire again (by blowing up the embers). They (the people there) became alive. Owing to the fire they became alive. The ancestors (Jaŋil) thus got fire at Min-to̱ŋ-ta village.”

From the A-Pučikwar tribe I only obtained one version of the fire legend. “When the ancestors lived at Wota-emi, Bilik lived at To̱l-l’oko-tima across the strait. In those days the ancestors had no fire. Bilik took some wood of the tree called pe̱rat and broke it and made fire for himself. Luratut (Kingfisher) came to To̱l-l’oko-tima while Bilik was sleeping and stole some fire. Bilik awoke and saw Luratut. He (Bilik) took up a lighted brand and threw it at Luratut. It hit him in the back of the neck and burnt him. Luratut gave the fire to the people at Wota-emi. Bilik was very angry about this and went away to live in the sky.”

The kingfisher of the story (Alcedo beavani?) has a patch of bright red feathers on its neck. This is where it was burnt by the brand thrown by Bilik.

Mr Portman gives a slightly different version from the same tribe [114]. “Bilik was sleeping at To̱l-l’oko-tima. Luratut went to bring fire. He caught hold of the fire, and in doing so burnt Bilik. Bilik awoke and seized some fire. He hit Luratut with the fire. Then he hit Tarčal (a fish) with the fire. Čalter (another species of kingfisher) caught hold of the fire. He gave it to the ancestors at Wota-emi. The ancestors made fires.”

From the Akar-Bale tribe I obtained the following legend: “The people had no fire. Dim-do̱ri (a fish) went and fetched fire from J̌ereg-l’ar-mugu (the place of departed spirits). He came back and threw the fire at the people and burnt them, and marked them all. The people ran into the sea and became fishes. Dim-do̱ri went to shoot them with his bow and arrows, and he also became a fish.” This story is supposed to account for the bright colouring of certain species of fish.

Mr Portman gives a somewhat similar version from the same tribe [115]. “Dim-do̱ra (a fish), a very long time ago, at Keri-l’oŋ-tower, was bringing fire from Puluga’s platform (fireplace). He, taking the fire, burnt everybody with it. Bolub and Tarko̱r and Biličau fell into the sea and became fishes. They took the fire to Rokwa-l’ar-toŋa village and made fires there.”

Another Akar-Bale legend is that fire was given to the first ancestors (Da Duku and In Bain) by Puluga. Still another is that fire was obtained by the ancestors from Aga, the skink (Mabuia tytleri). The mist that is often seen hanging over the jungle in small patches, after rain or at dawn, is said to be the smoke of Aga’s fire. An island in the Archipelago is called Aga l’od-baraij, Aga’s village.

Mr Portman gives an Aka-Bea legend, which, however, relates that the events took place at Wota-emi in the A-Pučikwar country [116].

“Puluga was asleep at To̱l-l’oko-tima. Luratut came, stealing fire. The fire burnt Puluga. Puluga awoke. Puluga seized some fire. Taking the fire he burnt Luratut with it. Luratut took the fire. He burnt Tar-čeker (another kind of kingfisher) with it in Wota-emi village. The ancestors lit fires. They (the ancestors) were the Tomo-la.”

Mr Man gives three different versions of legends as to the origin of fire. According to the first of these, Puluga, after he had made the first man, Tomo, gave him fire and taught him its use. Puluga obtained fire by stacking in alternate layers two kinds of wood known as co̱r and ber, and then bidding the sun to come and sit on or near the pile until she ignited it, after which she returned to her place in the sky [117]. The second version is that Puluga came to Tomo with a spirit named Lači Puŋa Ablola to instruct Tomo, who at his direction, prepared a pyre and then struck it, on which the fire was kindled and Puŋa Ablola proceeded to teach him how to cook food [118]. This legend contains an obvious contradiction. Lači Puŋa Ablola, as is shown by the name itself (Lači = the late), is the name of some one who is supposed to have lived and died and so become a spirit. Yet at the same time Tomo is supposed to have been the first of the Andamanese. There is the possibility, however, that this inconsistency is due not to the natives themselves, but to Mr Man’s transcription. It is possible that the legend is that fire was discovered and was given to the ancestors (the Tomo) by a person who, being dead, is now Lači Puŋa Ablola, but who was then alive and one of the ancestors (Tomo) themselves.

A third legend about fire given by Mr Man is associated by him with another legend about a flood that once overwhelmed the ancestors. According to Mr Man’s version the fires were all extinguished by the flood, so that the few survivors were left without fire. “At this juncture one of their recently deceased friends appeared in their midst in the form of a bird named Luratut. Seeing their distress he flew up to Mo̱ro, the sky, where he discovered Puluga seated beside his fire; he thereupon seized and attempted to carry away in his beak a burning log, but the heat, or weight, or both, rendered the task impossible, and the blazing brand fell on Puluga, who, incensed with pain, hurled it at the intruder; happily for those concerned, the missile missed its mark and fell near the very spot where the survivors were deploring their condition. As Luratut alighted in their midst at the same moment, he gained the full credit for having removed the chief cause of their distress [119].”

We may now consider a group of legends that relate how a great catastrophe overwhelmed the ancestors. In many of the versions the legend relates how the ancestors were transformed into animals. Some of the legends are connected with Biliku or Puluga and others are connected with the first discovery of fire. Beginning with the North Andaman, the following is, I believe, an Aka-J̌eru version. “Mimi Čara once broke some firewood in the evening (while the cicada was singing). A great storm came and killed many people, who were turned into fishes and birds. The water rose up till it covered the trees. Mimi Čara and Mimi Kota took the fire and went up the hill to the cave at Ŋaram. They carried the fire under a cooking-pot. They kept the fire alight in the cave, until the storm was over.”

Another Aka-J̌eru legend was taken down hurriedly and the full details were not obtained. “The people made a noise in the evening when Mite (the cicada) was singing. Mite went to see her mother Biliku. Her mother saw her eyes and face. She looked bad. Her eyes were red (with weeping). Biliku was very angry. There was a big storm and heavy rain. Biliku threw her pearl shells (lightning). She went mad. She destroyed the whole world. Biliku went up to live in the sky. The earth was bare (literally, empty). One day Biliku dropped a Dipterocarpus seed from the sky. Out of this all the different kinds of tree grew, and the earth was again covered with forest.” There was more of the legend, which I was unable at the time to understand, and which I did not hear again. My informant added “It was on this occasion that Maia Taolu saved the fire.”

An Aka-Čari legend relates how the birds and beasts and fishes arose. “Maia Dik (Sir Prawn) once got angry and threw fire at the people (the ancestors). They all turned into birds and fishes. The birds flew into the jungle. The fishes jumped into the sea. Maia Dik [120] himself became a large prawn which is still called by the same name.” In connection with this legend it must be remembered that it was Maia Dik, according to one legend, who first discovered the use of fire. One version of the story said that he made fire by striking a piece of paraŋo wood. Then he threw the burning wood about amongst the ancestors and they turned into birds and fishes.

An Aka-J̌eru version is very similar. “The people were all asleep. Maia Ko̱lo (Sir Sea-eagle) came and threw fire amongst them. They awoke in a fright and all ran in different directions. Some ran into the sea and became fishes and turtle; others ran into the jungle and became birds.”

The Aka-Kede version of the catastrophe that overtook the ancestors is as follows. “It was at the place called Čilpet. The people collected a lot of honey. They refused to give any to Ko̱po-tera-wat (a bird, not identified). The latter got very angry, and in the evening, when the cicadæ were singing he made a great noise and disturbed their song. Then there arose a great storm, and it rained very heavily, and the sea rose over the land. It rose very rapidly till only the top of a big Dipterocarpus tree showed above the water. The people took refuge in the branches of this tree. Mima Mite (Lady Dove) managed to rescue some fire and keep it alight under a cooking pot. The waters at length subsided. Then the people did not know how to get down from the tree. Mima Čarami-lebek made a long piece of string and with this she lowered the people safely to the ground.” The čarami-lebek, which was not identified, is a species of bird that lives, so the natives say, only at the top of the very tallest trees of the forest.

An Aka-Ko̱l version of the same legend is as follows: “At first there were no birds in the jungle and no fish in the sea. The ancestors were playing one evening and making a noise while the peti (cicada) was singing. Then Bilik got angry and sent a great cyclone. All the people were turned into birds and fishes and turtles and jungle beasts.”

There is an A-Pučikwar legend that, in the days of the ancestors, there was a big cyclone. There was a flood at Wota-emi and the water rose up over the trees. Some of the ancestors climbed up into a big Dipterocarpus tree and remained there till the waters had subsided. I was not able to hear any more detailed version of the legend.

The following legend explaining how the ancestors were turned into animals was told me by an A-Pučikwar man, but it is probably really of Akar-Bale origin.

“It was in the days of the ancestors. Ta Ko̱lwo̱t (Sir Tree-lizard) went over to a big meeting at Teb-ǰuru (in the Archipelago). There was a lot of dancing. Ko̱lwo̱t decided to give a big dancing party of his own. He invited everybody and they all came to his place. Ko̱lwo̱t danced a great deal. He began to get wild. All the people were afraid, because he was very strong. They caught hold of him by the arms. Ko̱lwo̱t got very angry. He threw the people from him. He threw them so violently that some fell in the sea and became fishes and turtle. Others fell on different islands and became birds and animals. No one could hold Ko̱lwo̱t. At last Berep (a species of crab) caught hold of his arm and would not let go. And thus Berep stopped him. Before this there had been no birds in the jungles nor any fish in the sea.”

A more complete version of this story was obtained from the Akar-Bale tribe. “Da Tigbul (Sir Dugong) took all the people to dance at Kwaičo. In Bain (Lady Civet-cat) told Da Kwo̱ko̱l (Sir Tree-lizard) that people were coming from Tar-mugu to dance and that Da Karami [121] would quarrel with him. Da Kwo̱ko̱l replied ‘Oh! I don’t care. I can fight all those people easily enough.’ All the people came together for the dance and Karami quarrelled with Kwo̱ko̱l. The latter got very angry. The people were afraid. Tigbul (Dugong) caught hold of Kwo̱ko̱l by the arm. Kwo̱ko̱l threw him from him with such force that Tigbul fell into the sea and became a dugong. Then Kočurag-boa caught hold of Kwo̱ko̱l and Kwo̱ko̱l threw him into the jungle [122]. Kwo̱ko̱l threw all the people into the sea or into the jungle and they became birds and beasts and fishes. No one could hold him. Da Kwo̱ko̱l went away to Teb-ǰuru. The people told Da Berag (Sir Crab) what had happened at Kwaičo and how no one could hold Da Kwo̱ko̱l. Da Berag went after him to Teb-ǰuru. Da Kwo̱ko̱l had covered himself with ko̱iob (red paint) [123]. Da Berag pretended that he wanted some paint to put on his upper lip, saying that he was sick. There was no more red paint in the place, so Da Kwo̱ko̱l said ‘You had better come and take some off me.’ Da Berag put his nose to Kwo̱ko̱l’s arm as though to get some paint, and bit deeply into Kwo̱ko̱l’s shoulder. Kwo̱ko̱l could not get loose, and so he died. The people at Teb-ǰuru attacked Da Berag and beat him. They could not kill him, because his skin was too hard, so they threw him into the sea. When Kwo̱ko̱l’s mother, Kegŋa, came and found her son dead she was very angry. She wept for a long time. Then she went into the jungle and cut the plant to̱kul which belongs to Puluga. Puluga was angry because the to̱kul was cut and sent a big storm which killed Kegŋa and all the other people in that place.”

Mr Man records another version of this legend.

“To explain the origin of certain fish, they say that one day before the Deluge, Maia Ko̱lwo̱t went to visit an encampment of the Tomola situated in the Archipelago. While engaged in his song the women, through inattention to his instructions, marred the effect of the chorus, so, to punish them, he seized his bow, whereupon the whole party in terror fled in all directions; some escaping into the sea were changed into dugongs, porpoises, sharks, and various other fish which till then had not been seen [124].”