Chapter IX: Part IV: Religion (1)

Religion—Deities and Spirits—The Soul and Life after Death
—Magic—Religious Officials—Public Ceremonies—Individual
Ceremonies—Ceremonies for Illness—Social “gennas”—Birth—
Marriage—Divorce—Death—Miscellaneous Beliefs.

The religion of the Lhota is of that type which is vaguely termed Animism. He believes in no Supreme Being who rewards the good and punishes the evil. The deities to whom he sacrifices are some of them neutral, if kept in a good temper with the proper offerings, and some of them definitely malicious. Yet he is very far indeed from being devil-ridden and haunted with ghostly fears. He cheerfully carries out what he conceives to be his religious duties and meets his end like a man when the time comes.

[Deities and Spirits.] The nearest equivalent to gods is an order of beings called Potso, [126] who live in a world like ours, of the earthy floor of which our sky is the underside. The world of the Potsos in turn has a sky which supports yet another Potso world, and so on for an unknown number of layers. The only Potsos who affect us are those in the world immediately above our sky. They resemble men in appearance and have hosts of attendants who are sometimes regarded as their servants and sometimes as their relations. It is believed that just as the Lhotas have their Potsos, so the Semas, Aos and other tribes have theirs. The language of Potsos is different from that of men. Some members of the Tsoboi clan are said to claim to know it. Potsos are believed to visit earth from time to time and hold converse with the village seer (ratsen), coming in pairs with a train of attendants and bringing articles symbolical of the fortune the village is going to enjoy during the year. They send a servant ahead who appears to the ratsen in a dream and tells him that his masters will come on such and such a day. From the time when the warning is received till the Potsos come nothing must be killed in the ratsen’s house, and between these dates he must not go outside the village land, or indulge in sexual intercourse, or eat the flesh of anything killed after he received the warning, though he may eat meat dried before. For their visit he makes ready “pita madhu” (etha soko) and some small fish and rice, and has plantain leaves brought up from the fields for use as cups. On the night when the Potsos are expected all in the village must go to bed early and shut their doors. The ratsen himself sleeps in a room separate from the rest of his family. The Potsos then come and speak to him in a voice which no one else can hear, and show him symbolical articles from which the future can be foretold. In the morning the marks of the spear butts of the Potsos and their servants can be seen outside the ratsen’s door. They are easily distinguishable, it is said, from the ordinary marks of spear butts, for they are much smaller and deeper. This belief seems to show that the Potsos are regarded as coming in material form. The objects brought by the Potsos are generally believed to be taken back by them, but Niroyo village claim that some of their rice is from seed rice given to a ratsen by a Potso. A typical instance of this curious belief that these beings from another world sometimes visit the earth is the supposed visit of Potsos to the ratsen ’Nchemo of Illimyo in April 1919. ’Nchemo reported that two Potsos came with fourteen attendants and brought with them reeds, meaning sunny weather, part of a railway carriage (!), meaning elephants would give trouble, two loads of dark blue thread, meaning that someone would die “apotia,” and a broom, meaning that wind would damage the crops. The day after a village is visited by Potsos is kept as an emung both by the village to which they came and by its neighbours. Formerly if any village was visited in this way all Lhota villages, however distant, kept one day’s emung when they heard the news. Apart from special ceremonies performed to appease or gain the favour of the Rangsis, Sityingo and such-like godlings, it is to the Potsos that prayers are offered in sacrifices. Just as in England huge circular depressions in the hills are often called Devil’s Punchbowls, so the Lhota tends to assign big or curious things to the Potsos. For instance, the polished stone celts which are sometimes found in the fields are regarded as thunderbolts and are called “Potso’s axes” (Potsophü). The long flat seed-case, too, of a certain tree is called “Potso’s weaving-sword” (Potsotsitam). [127]

Sityingo is regarded as the lord of wild animals, which he keeps just as men keep pigs and cattle. Sometimes he can be heard calling the wild pig, but to hear him is very unlucky. He lives in the jungle and is like a small man, with his head twisted to one side. By his favour men have luck in hunting. Okisityingo (“house-sityingo”) is the good genius of the house. He is like a man, but has enormously long fingers and is spotted all over. He is only seen by men in delirium. So long as he is in a good temper his influence is good, but he can be harmful if due respect is not shown him. It is very unlucky if he leaves the house. Ngazo is another jungle spirit, practically identical with Sityingo. To every village and every man is attached a Rangsi, by whose favour the crops are good. No one has ever seen one or knows what one is like to look at. Just as crops and wild game have their genii, so have the rivers and streams in Tchhüpfu (“water-master” [128]), a being like a man with hair of enormous length, who lives at the bottom of deep pools and uses human skulls as hearth-stones. Small offerings are made to him by some villages after doing the oyantsoa ceremony. One is believed to inhabit a pool called Tchhüpfu izzü in the Doyang below Morakcho. In the days when men first came out of the earth they were persecuted by a fiend called Khyuham, who ate their children and carried the skulls of his victims about in a basket on his back. Rankhanda, one of the ancestors of the Lhota tribe, managed to shut him up in a hole in the earth, the entrance of which he blocked, some say with a stone, others with a mithan horn. Yet even now a yearly ceremony called Epuetha is performed by every family in order to ward off the evil influence of Khyuham. Almost every illness is put down to the unhallowed attentions of Tsandhramo, invisible fiends who out of sheer malice make men sick by detaining their souls or by introducing hair or bits of wood or small stones into their bodies, making it necessary to call in a ratsen to extract them. The bright rust-coloured mud which is often seen oozing out of cliffs is regarded as the excreta of Tsandhramo. If these patches are sprinkled with dogs’ teeth the fiends will abandon the place. In Lakhuti the custom obtains of leaving a spear sticking through the roof of a house from inside when an inmate is ill. This is supposed to ward off further attacks of evil spirits. During the influenza outbreak of 1918 the village simply bristled with spears. The jungle is believed to be haunted by wailing fiends called Nangkamo. A famous haunt is below the village of Akuk on the northern slope of the range. Men are tempted to follow the wailing. If they do they will be affected with such madness that they will think level ground is steep ground, and steep ground level ground. [129] Ramphan, the great Lhota hero, once speared one of these fiends with a red-hot spear, and buried it. In the morning he dug it up and found that though when speared it had the appearance of a man it was now a lizard. [130]

Respect rather than worship is paid to a huge boulder called Deolung on the north-west side of the path between Lakhuti and Akuk. Everyone who passes it lays a leaf on a stone in front of it. Lakhuti once sacrificed a chicken to it, but the experiment was followed by many deaths in the village and was not repeated. Formerly very solemn oaths were taken on this stone. The story goes that long, long ago Deolung was attacked by another huge boulder called Tarrlung, who cut his head off. But Deolung’s friend Matishi, another boulder, was near, to whom Deolung cried out, “Matishi, Matishi, Tarrlung has cut off my head. Go and waylay him.” So Matishi took a sharpened bamboo as a spear and waylaid Tarrlung and wounded him so seriously that he only had strength to stagger away and toppled into the Doyang near Morakcho. Deolung’s leg is supposed to be somewhere in the plains, but the wound where his head was cut off, and his head itself, now a rough piece of stone, are still pointed out. Close to Deolung and a little to the south is a flat slab of stone known as the grave of Orhendhromo, Deolung’s son, sometimes called Orhendhreni, his daughter. The little escarpment on which Deolung stands is called “Deolung’s wall” (Deolung piku). Matishi is now a big boulder a little distance below the Naga path and to the south-east of it between Deolung and Akuk. It is regarded both as Deolung’s friend still standing guard near him, and as his mithan. A lowing sound heard coming from it forebodes some great disaster. A mark in the sandstone in Akuk village is shown as the mithan’s track, and a natural hole through a rock there as the place where the mithan was tied up. Another rock called Napa is believed once to have been endowed with life and to have walked up from the bed of the Doyang to the place where it now stands on Pyopsü land. [131]

[Beliefs concerning the Soul and the Life after Death.] The Lhota usually regards himself as having two distinct souls called respectively omon and mongyi. The omon, which is visible in the form of the man’s shadow and shows its good sense by disappearing into him when the sky is cloudy and rain threatens, leaves the man some time before death in cases of serious illness. It may just wander about, in which case it can often be induced by the proper ceremonies to return, or it may go straight along the Road of the Dead to the next world, in which case the man dies.

As an example of this belief the following story, told to the writer by a Rephyim man, may be related. The man said: “The Road of the Dead in our village runs past the champo in which I used to sleep. One night when I was lying awake I heard someone go stumbling past towards Wokha Hill, groaning as he went. Then I heard him say, ‘Oh, oh, I cannot walk,’ and recognized the voice of my brother-in-law, who was very ill. I was frightened and shouted and woke all in the champo. My brother-in-law died next day, for his soul (omon) had already gone ahead.” The mongyi leaves a man at the moment of death and goes straight to the World of the Dead, where it joins the omon which has already gone on ahead except in cases of very sudden death. Some men do not distinguish omon and mongyi (lit. “stupid soul”). The fact is that the Lhota does not analyse the details of such an unpleasant certainty as death. The Lhotas also believe in a sort of personal evil destiny called nyok, and when looking at the corpse of a man who has died a violent death will hold bunches of leaves before their faces to prevent his nyok affecting them. It appears to correspond to the Angami temi or rhopfü (cf. Hutton, The Angami Nagas, pp. 98 and 183). A curious belief, apparently at variance with all their beliefs as to dead men walking to the Land of the Dead, is held by Lhotas in common with Semas and Aos. It is that if a man kills a flying squirrel during his life, at his death his soul will fly to the Land of the Dead under the shelter of the wings of the soul of the squirrel. Col. Shakespear records that the Lushais hold a similar belief with regard to a bird called vahluk. [132] There are also traces of a belief in the reincarnation of the soul in some lower form of life. No member of a household in which a death has occurred may take the life of any creature, whether animal, bird, or insect, till the days of “genna” are accomplished and the soul has finally left for the Land of the Dead, in case the creature killed should be the dead man in another form. The Aos have a similar belief. [133] The Land of the Dead (etchhili) lies under our world and has the bottom of our world for a sky, just as our world lies under the world of the Potsos. There the dead live exactly as men live here, those who have done good deeds here being rich and happy, and those who have done evil deeds being poor and miserable. [134] As the sun passes under the earth every evening their day is our night. The entrance to it is a cave (etchhiku) on the precipitous eastern face of Wokha Hill. It is inaccessible and no living man has ever been into the cave, though the story goes that once a man desperate with grief at the death of his nine children from smallpox managed to scramble down to it. There on the floor he found spittle and on the side of the cave he found the smallpox scabs which had been rubbed off against the rock as his children passed in. He could not enter, for he was still alive, but he went away comforted, for he knew that his wife and children had really gone to the Land of the Dead, where he would meet them some day. The cave, which a telescope seems to show does really exist, lies at one end of a narrow, conspicuous stratum of white rock which looks exactly like a path and is known as the Road of the Dead (etchhililan). [135] Below it is another similar stratum, also apparently terminating in a cave, which is believed to be the road used by the spirits of dead animals, for animals, too, go to the Land of the Dead. In Yemkha, from whence the roads are clearly seen, it is believed that sometimes at night lights can be observed moving on the upper road when the dead come out with torches to meet new-comers and light them on their way. Some say that the spirits of those who die “apotia,” or at the hands of enemies or by witchcraft, are earthbound and cannot go to the world of the dead. Others say that they go, but by some different road. The dead have knowledge of what goes on in this world and jealously watch the disposal of their property! They can even at times punish the living with sickness. They appear in dreams, sending their omon to the dreamer, for the dead man himself cannot leave the place where he is. As a sign that he has really been, the omon sometimes leaves a present of dead men’s rice (etchhitsok). Zambomo of Pangti still uses rice descended from such a present. It is occasionally necessary to appease the dead. A pig is killed and a share given to a dreamer (hahang), who offers it to the dead man in his dreams. This ceremony is called etchhienya, and is done by anyone who is heir to the whole of a dead man’s property, and when there have been many deaths in a family, or if children die one after the other. Though the dead themselves cannot leave their habitation, the deer they hunt, if hard pressed by dogs, sometimes come right through the earth and appear on the surface of the ground in the form of moles. That is why to find a mole above ground forebodes ill luck, and perhaps even death. Hence the consternation when the writer’s fox-terrier one day laid a dead mole at a Lhota’s feet. [136] Similarly, the male of the Little Pied Flycatcher (Cyornis melanoleucus) is regarded as the hornbill of the dead.

Life in the Land of the Dead is certainly not regarded as everlasting, but the Lhota is very vague as to what the next stage is—the truth being that he does not worry himself about the matter. One theory is that men die again and become flies. Another theory is that every man passes through nine successive lives [137] and then ceases to exist.

[Religion and Magic.] The religion of the Lhota teaches no moral code. The blessings it offers him are material, not spiritual. Yet many, many Lhotas lead clean, straight, honest lives and are ever ready to help a lame dog over a stile. It is true that virtue in this world is vaguely believed to be rewarded with happiness in the next, but this belief weighs little with a Naga, who rarely turns his thoughts to what is in store for him after he dies. Whatever it be which causes so many Lhotas to lead virtuous lives it is not their religion. His religion presents itself to a Lhota as a series of ceremonies and observances laid down by custom, any one of which it would be dangerous to omit. Mingled with this idea is the belief in the to the Lhota self-evident maxim that like produces like. If children squirt water from their mouths rain will fall. To pretend that you are carrying a heavy load of rice up to the village will ensure good crops! And so on in every department of life.

Religious Officials.

[The Puthi.] The priest of the village who takes the leading part in all ceremonies concerned with the welfare of the whole community is called by the Northern Lhotas Puthi and by the Southern Puki. Formerly every village had two Puthis, the one first elected performing the ceremonial acts, while his partner acted as his assistant and repeated the prayers after him. Nowadays in many places there is only one Puthi, the chief reason being that few men are eager to accept the post, which is a risky one, for verbal mistakes in the ceremonies may call down divine displeasure on the officiant. Where there are two Puthis the junior automatically succeeds the senior one on the death of the latter. An awkward interregnum is thus avoided, for in the absence of a Puthi public ceremonies cannot be performed. [138]

Five days after the death of a Puthi the old men of the village meet at the late priest’s house and discuss the question of his successor. Ordinarily the man in the village who has done most social “gennas” is chosen, provided he is otherwise qualified. That is to say, he must belong to one of the clans who have provided Puthis for that village in the past, and he must never have been wounded by an enemy or wild animal, or have hurt himself by falling from a tree or rock, or have burnt himself. In other words, a man who has only just escaped an “apotia” death is not eligible. Nor must he be deformed or mutilated in any way. Once installed he holds office for life. The sole charge on which he can be dismissed is that of deliberately uttering curses instead of blessings at ceremonies. But even in this case the village must make good the expenses he has incurred during his time of office. He is forbidden to go outside the boundaries of the village, lest he should fall into the hands of enemies and be killed, for in some mysterious way the life of the village is regarded as bound up with that of its Puthi. On his death his successor must perform the ceremony of “making the village” (oyantsoa). [139] The other occasions on which this ceremony is performed are at the first founding of a village, when a branch of the mingetung, or the mingetung itself, falls, and at intervals of nine or ten years, when the Puthi thinks it is time it was performed in order that the children, cattle and crops of the village may increase. It may take place any time during the cold weather before the rice is sown. The Puthi announces that the ceremony is to take place and goes round with his spear (phui) in his hand and his Yenga walking behind him, and collects a contribution of rice from every male in the village. When all have prepared “madhu” the ceremony begins with the killing of a dog outside the Puthi’s house. The formalities are the same as at the building of a new “morung,” except that the man who decapitates the dog at once cuts off its ears and places them on the roof of the Puthi’s house, over the door. Next morning the unmarried men and boys of the village, having remained chaste for three days, go into the jungle and cut a log about six feet long and a foot and a half in diameter. This is trimmed flat on one side. One end is left square and the other end is sloped off from about two feet from the top. This they drag up to the village and set up just outside the village fence at the place (opyachama) which the tradition of the village ordains, with the flat side facing the village. No woman must see it dragged in, and for the three preceding days the village must keep strict emung, even sewing and weaving being forbidden. In front of the post, which is known as opya, all the males of the village in full dress assemble and feast. The women may look on from a distance, but may not mix with the men. Then the Puthi holds in his right hand a perfectly clean dao lent by an unmarried man who has observed strict chastity during the preceding three days, and in his left hand a cock. After the traditional prayer (dranda) for the prosperity of the village he cuts the cock’s throat with the dao and proceeds to take the omens from its entrails. A sharp stick is then run into the base of the bird’s skull at the back and it is set up at the foot of the opya. Then at a signal from the Puthi all, shouting as if in battle, throw mock bamboo spears at the opya. All then repair to the “morung” chanting shamashari, the chant of warriors who are bringing home heads, and hoiki enyam, a long-drawn high note followed by two short low notes. From the “morung” they go to the Puthi’s house, and after chanting there disperse. All men must refrain from sexual intercourse for this night. In some villages (e.g. Rephyim) a straw collar is fastened round the opya at the point where the flat side is sloped off towards the top. Only warriors and men of importance, who fasten a little tuft of red goat’s hair to the butt of their bamboo spears, may spear the opya above this collar. [140] The opya may be compared with the figure put up by the Quoireng and Kabui Nagas, who make a similar distinction between hits on the head and on the body. [141] Whether the opya represents a human sacrifice or the killing of an old Puthi whose failing powers would involve disaster to the village is perhaps an open question. But it is significant that the opya is believed occasionally to groan after being speared. The next day the oha (lucky stones) under the mingetung are counted. The whole village having assembled at the tree, while the women look on from a respectful distance, the Puthi lifts up the oha one by one, and on the place where they were lays the two ears of the dog which were put on his roof. He then replaces the stones one by one, counting them as he does so, and announces the total to the village. If the stones have increased since the last counting it is a good omen. If they have decreased it is an evil omen. All then stand round the tree and flourish their spears and chant the shamashari. A light fence is next built round the tree, with a door which is, however, carefully kept shut. After much walking round the tree and chanting all go to their own houses. Some days later—in some villages after five days, in others after ten—the young men and the Puthi again repair to the mingetung to open the door in the fence. Before this can be done the Puthi squats in front of the gate in the fence holding a good dao with the unsharpened face [142] of the blade upwards in his right hand and an egg in his left. Addressing the Potsos, he says, “I have remained chaste. I have eaten no unclean thing. Now help me and be favourable.” He then rolls the egg very slowly down the blade of the dao. It is an evil omen if it falls either over the edge or over the back. He sets the egg on its end on the ground and puts thirty tiny pieces of dog’s flesh on each side of it. The gate is then opened and after the usual chanting the ceremony is at an end. A village which has done the oyantsoa “genna” must not allow any uncooked rice to leave the village till after the next Tuku “genna.”

After the oyantsoa “genna” and before the fields are cut for the next year’s cultivation, some villages perform a ceremony called Pyotsoja in honour of Tchhüpfu, the godling of rivers. On the appointed day the Puthi sets out from the village early in the morning, accompanied by all the grown-up men of the community. A bird-hunt is organized, and when one has been caught alive all go down to the Doyang. On the bank the Puthi kills a hen and lays out ten scraps of its flesh on his up-stream hand for Tchhüpfu and nine scraps on his down-stream hand. A miniature raft of bamboos is made, on which are put an egg, a little cotton wool and the live bird tied by the leg. The raft is then allowed to float down-stream. If it upsets it is a bad omen and it is believed that someone will be drowned during the term of office of the Puthi. A little poison is then pounded into the stream and the Puthi gets into the water and flounders about like a stupefied fish. His Yenga plunges in and seizes him and calls out, “I have caught such and such a fish! No, it is such and such a fish! No it is not; it is such and such a fish,” and so on, calling out the names of different kinds of fish. Of the fish killed the first is offered to Tchhüpfu as the chicken was, and the rest are divided up among those present.

Oyantsoa is followed by the ceremony of “calling the Rangsi” (Rangsitsa), which takes place when the rice has begun to sprout, before the season of thunderstorms sets in, for the thunder would prevent the Rangsis from hearing the voices of those calling them. The Puthi kills a big pig in his house, and taking a bamboo mat, some of the boar’s meat, an egg, a fowl and a little rice goes with the whole village a short way down the path up which the first Lhota settlers came to found the village. The chicken is killed and the omens taken and the egg and meat laid out on the ground exactly as in the Amungkam and Rangsikam ceremonies. The Puthi then spreads the mat in the ground and sprinkles a little unhusked rice over it. Then beginning with Honohoyanto, Kisiyo and Dilungcham he calls out the name of every Lhota village, both extinct and existing, and summons its Rangsi to come and give rice to his village. Meanwhile the whole village, every man, woman and child having brought a rice basket, sets the baskets on the ground and beckons to the Rangsis who are supposed to be trooping up in obedience to the summons. The baskets are held as if someone were pouring rice into them and then covered quickly with a cloth. All go home in single file with much grunting, as if they were carrying heavy loads, the Puthi bringing up the rear. Arrived at the village everyone carefully pours the imaginary rice out of his basket into his rice house. Among the Northern Lhotas the young men of the village on the day before this “genna” make a point of trying to steal water from some other village’s supply to put into their own. If they are caught they must submit to a good hiding.

[The Yenga.] The assistant of the Puthi, who accompanies him at all ceremonies and carries his load, is called Yenga. He must be an old man who has done no social “gennas” and is appointed for life. In villages where there are two Puthis each has his Yenga. He receives a share of the meat at all “gennas” and one small basket of rice from every house in the village once a year. In cases where the only or both Puthis are ill the Yenga may perform ceremonies as if he were Puthi.

[Minor Religious Officials.] The post next in importance to that of Puthi is that of Wokchung (“pig-killer”), of which there are usually two in a village, though in big villages such as Tsingaki there are two for each clan. A Wokchung may carry a phui spear as the Puthi does. His duty is to kill animals at private sacrifices. Below the Wokchungs are two ’Nchuko (“hearth-bringers”), who bring the small stones with which miniature hearths are made at social “gennas.” Next below are two Sorhung (“meat-dividers”), who divide up the meat at all sacrifices and settle all disputes as to the respective shares. No one may act as Wokchung, ’Nchuko, or Sorhung unless he has performed all social “gennas” and dragged a stone. There is nothing to prevent the offices of Puthi, Wokchung, ’Nchuko and Sorhung being combined in the same person.

Public Ceremonies.

Besides the ceremonies intimately connected with agriculture which have already been described, there are certain other public ceremonies of a more general character. The year officially opens with the Pikuchak “genna,” but before that is performed the omens for the whole village are taken at a ceremony called Sirosi.

[The Sirosi ceremony.] The procedure at Pangti, to take an instance, is as follows. The men of the village all assemble in front of the senior Puthi’s house, the boys of each champo bringing meat in new baskets and “chungas” of “madhu.” The two Puthis in full dress lead the way a short distance down the path to Okotso, each holding a “chunga” of “madhu” in his right hand. A short distance beyond the village fence they sit down and together say the dranda, praying that their enemies may make peace and come and eat with them, that tigers may not kill their cattle nor hawks their chickens, and that the village may flourish and grow big. This prayer is offered facing away from the village, and at the end of it each Puthi pours a little “madhu” on the ground. Some meat and “madhu” are distributed, and all go up to the village again and a short way down the path to Are, where the same ritual takes place. On the Are path, just below the place where the prayers are said, is a small clump of big trees growing close together. Between their stems is the traditional spot at which omens are taken at Sirosi. The prayer ended all the boys rush down the hill shouting, and hurl bamboo spears at the trees. Then all go down and scrape the earth clean at the proper spot. Here each Puthi sets up an egg on end, asking that the good or evil fortune of the coming year may be revealed, and takes the omens by cutting chips from a green twig and watching how they fall. The future is really believed to be revealed by the kinds of insects which are caught near the egg, and all sit and watch while the boys hunt industriously in the grass. Locusts mean that sambhur hunting will be good (for they have big legs). Stick insects are interpreted as showing that many men will take new wives, but will have no children by them. Small white insects show that the crops will be poor, and so on. When a few insects have been caught, and their significance has been expounded by the Puthis and old men, all go home.

[The Pikuchak ceremony.] The Pikuchak “genna” marks the beginning of the agricultural year. The Northern Lhotas do it before clearing the jungle on their fields, and the Southern Lhotas after. In any case it must be done before the rice is sown. The Puthi announces the day on which the ceremony is to be, and every champo buys meat, and each champo in turn the cock which is to be sacrificed. On the night before the “genna” sexual intercourse is forbidden. On the day all the men of the village assemble at the place where the opya is set up. In front of the opya the Puthi sets up a miniature opya, and in front of that again puts an egg on the ground with a leaf on each side. On the leaf to his right he puts ten little bits of pork and ten little bits of ginger, and on that to his left nine little bits of each. He then recites the dranda, holding the cock in his left hand, and a dao in his right. This dao belongs to the youth who caught the cock the night before, the champo whose turn it is to provide the cock having selected some days before a youth whose duty it is to go to the house of the seller of the cock and catch it on the evening before it is sacrificed. This youth must abstain from all intercourse with the opposite sex from the time he is chosen to the end of the ceremony. The dranda being ended the Puthi cuts the cock’s throat, takes the omens from its entrails and ties it on to the miniature opya. The old men sit down and eat some of the meat which the boys from the champos have bought and all go back to the village with much chanting. Parties of boys walk singing six times round each champo. The rest of the day is given up to feasting. Next day is kept as an emung and no one goes to the fields, but a party, consisting of boys and one or two old men, go out on a mock head-taking raid. First they go to the opya, where one of the old men sets up a miniature opya and makes the same offerings of an egg, meat and ginger as were made the day before. Then the party goes into the jungle and throws spears at trees and shouts as if engaged with the enemy. Then all return to their champos, in some villages openly, in other villages by roundabout paths and in dead silence. Finally after sitting in the champo for a little, as they would after a raid, all go to their houses. It is believed that this mock raid ensures good crops and hunting and a high birth-rate for the village.

[The Rangendri ceremony.] After Pikuchak, but before the crops are sown, a “genna” called Rangendri is performed, at which imitation heads are hung on the mingetung. The Puthi collects rice and with it buys a pig which he kills outside his house. Going outside the village fence he lays thirty tiny pieces of the flesh on each of two leaves and prays that inasmuch as the warriors of the village are following the customs of their forefathers, good fortune may come to all. Then a few men of standing make globular bamboo baskets, such as are used for fingers, ears, bits of scalp and other trophies of Naga warfare, and hang them up on the mingetung. These are spoken of as “heads,” and each man who hangs one up sacrifices a fowl and feasts the village as if he had really taken and hung up an enemy’s head. The performance of this “genna” does not permit a man to wear any of the ornaments of a warrior, but entitles him to have one representation of a head put on his grave for each time he does it.

[The Tuku ceremony.] The agricultural year closes with the Tuku ceremony. Five days after he has given notice of the “genna” the Puthi goes round with his Yenga and collects unhusked rice from every house. Men married in the course of the year have to make an extra large contribution, and receive in return a special blessing from the Puthi when he visits them on his round. Two days later he collects husked rice in the same manner. With some of the unhusked rice he makes “pita madhu,” and with part of the rest buys a pig. The eighth day from that on which the unhusked rice was collected is known as kichan. On it the Puthi spears the pig at the opya, or among the Northern Lhotas just outside the village fence. The stomach is eaten there by the Puthi and the old men, and the rest of the meat divided up and distributed, those who gave most rice naturally getting most pork. The pig must not be singed to get the hair off or the crops will fail. From the day when the unhusked rice is collected to kichan nothing must be killed or sold in the village, and no meat from a tiger’s kill must be brought in. The day after kichan is called remphi or tuku inshuk. On it animals and fowls may be killed and the day is given up to feasting, the working companies especially who have worked together during the year holding little feasts to which they have all subscribed, or visiting the houses of the different members. Next day emung is observed. On it the ornaments and all erections on graves are thrown away. [143] No rice may be cut after this “genna.” Tuku emung being intimately connected with the dead, it is chosen as a time for taking omens which will show who is to die in the course of the year. The night before the boys of the champo sprinkle ashes carefully round the entrance to their sleeping-rooms. These are examined for tracks very early in the morning before anyone has gone out. Should a track be found fitting the foot of any of the boys it is believed that that boy’s omon has gone to the Land of the Dead, and that he will assuredly follow it before the next Tuku emung comes round.

Ceremonies for Rain.

The rainfall in the Naga Hills is usually adequate. Nevertheless various rain-compelling ceremonies are practised, most of them of a very simple nature. The usual one resembles that in vogue among the Semas. A gibbon’s head and a small dead tserü fish, with its mouth kept open by a piece of stick, are pegged down to the bottom of the nearest stream. When enough rain has fallen the gibbon’s head is taken out, the fish being left in the water to rot. Another common method is to dig a little tunnel and pour in water at one end and let it run out at the other. In Akuk a stick is rattled about to imitate the sound of rain in the hole to which Deolung tied up his mithan, water being poured in meanwhile. Sometimes children go about with “chungas” of water and spray it from their mouths over passers-by and each other. Niroyo, Wokha and their neighbours fell a tree across the path leading from the village to the Road of the Dead. All then go home holding leaves over their heads and saying that it is raining. To increase the flow of the village spring in times of drought someone goes down at night to the Doyang, and leaving an offering of four little bundles of meat and an egg on the bank, brings up a little water in a “chunga” and pours it into the village supply.

Individual Ceremonies.

[The Potsokam ceremony.] Many of the ceremonies performed by individuals, such as those connected with agriculture, have been described under their respective headings. Three main classes may, however, be considered here, namely, those performed regularly for the general welfare of the household, those which are connected with illness, and those social “gennas” on which the status of the individual Lhota depends.

A “genna” called Potsokam (“present to the Potsos”) is performed every year, or oftener in case of sickness. The regular time for it is just before the new “jhums” are cut. The master of the house kills a small pig of either sex inside the house. He then mixes “madhu” and a few blades of rice which have sprung up in his granary among the damp grain, and ties them in a leaf which he affixes to one of the centre-posts of the house. Then of the pig which has been killed he cooks sixty small pieces, which he wraps up in a yutso leaf and holds up near the centre-post, with the prayer that there may be no sickness or misfortune in the house. The bundle is then put in the basket or “chunga” in which the day’s supply of rice is kept. Then two leaves containing six pieces of meat each and two leaves containing four pieces of meat each are prepared for the dreamer (hahang) whom the performer of the rite patronizes. The dreamer must come and fetch them himself in the evening. When he goes out the door is shut hurriedly after him lest the good genius of the house (okisityingo) should escape. None of the flesh of the pig may be eaten that night, during which the husband must sleep apart from his wife. In the morning the dreamer comes to report what visions he has had and counts the pieces of meat in the rice bin. If the full number is found and the leaf is wet with congealed moisture all is well. A reduction in the number of pieces foretells evil. It is regarded as particularly fortunate if a little rice is found mixed with the meat. This is regarded as a gift from the dead and ensures good crops. Anyone may see the sacrifice of the pig, but were anyone to steal and eat a piece of meat his mouth would become deformed.

[The Epuetha ceremony.] The story goes that the evil spirit Khyuham, when shut up in a hole in the earth by Rankhanda, exacted a promise that he should be appeased by a yearly sacrifice. In fulfilment of this the Lhota householder, year by year just before the Thruven “genna,” kills a small boar in his house and puts into a carrying basket twenty-three little pieces of the meat, a handful of rice husks, an egg, a handful of boiled rice and a “chunga” of “pita madhu.” The ceremony is performed in the lhurhui room, by an old man who has done no “gennas,” called in for the purpose. Holding a “chunga” of “saka madhu” in his hand he prays for the welfare of the household, and after spilling a little on the ground drinks. He then pounds up some ginger, the usual magical disinfectant, in a leaf and pours a little “pita madhu” over it. While he is doing this members of the family scrape all their daos and spears one against the other. Then the old man, addressing Khyuham, says, “We have given you all the things in this house. Do not harm anyone,” and as he speaks sprinkles a little of the ginger and “pita madhu” about the room, laying what is left in a leaf at the foot of the main post of the house, that is to say the post between the lhurhui and the mpongki. This done he takes up a brand from the hearth and the carrying basket containing the twenty-three pieces of pork and other things, and goes out of the house, calling on all evil spirits to follow him. As he goes the household throw after him ashes and burning brands, another powerful type of magical disinfectant, and shutting the door quickly keep it closed for a few minutes. The old man goes into the jungle just outside the village fence and there lights a small fire and spills a little “pita madhu” on the ground. Setting the egg up on end he puts on each side of it a little heap of rice husks on a leaf, six little sticks, six little pieces of ginger, and six scraps of meat. The “chunga” which held the “pita madhu” is by this time empty. This he splits with his dao and watches how the two halves fall. If both fall inside up or outside up the omen is good, but if one falls one way and one the other it is bad. The two halves are then laid on either side of the egg, and the old man having eaten the rest of the rice and meat goes straight to his house. He must not enter the house where the ceremony was performed again that evening. In the morning he goes back to return the carrying basket and receives a small handful of rice as his fee.

Ceremonies for Illness.

A Lhota when sick usually attributes his illness to the malice of an evil spirit (tsandhramo), who has either introduced some foreign matter, such as hair or a little stone, into his body or has caused his soul (omon) to desert him at a certain place. In any case a ratsen has to be called in, who can see and “extract” any foreign body which may be the cause of the trouble, or can say at what spot his soul left him and is likely to be lurking. To enable the man to regain his soul a soul-caller (montsai) is required, who must be an old man who has done no social “gennas.” If it is on his own land that the man’s soul has left him a dog must be sacrificed. The montsai and the sick man, if he be well enough, go down to the spot indicated by the ratsen. If the sick man be too ill, as is often the case, a near relation goes, who may be either a man or a woman among the Southern Lhotas, but must be a man among the Northern Lhotas. On arrival at the spot the montsai lights a fire, and killing the dog by knocking it on the head, singes it and cuts it up. On his right the montsai puts ten pieces of meat and ten pieces of ginger on two leaves, and nine pieces of meat and nine pieces of ginger on two leaves on his left. The paws, ears and nose are cooked in a pot which has been specially brought for the purpose, and left there in the pot. The rest of the meat is the montsai’s perquisite. He goes back to the village, repeatedly calling the sick man’s soul by the man’s name to follow him.

When the ratsen says that it was at some place in the jungle or on the village path that the patient’s soul left him and is being kept away by a tsandhramo, an interesting ceremony with a scapegoat chicken is performed. The montsai and a relation of the patient go to the spot where the soul is said to be, taking with them a carrying basket containing two “chungas” of “madhu,” sixty pieces of plantain stem blackened with soot, twelve pieces of burnt wood, sixty little bits of pork, a small chicken, a cowrie, some ginger, some taro, some heads of a species of wild mint called rarakham, which is believed to be an infallible antidote against evil spirits, and a burning brand. Throughout the ceremony the patient’s relation is a mere spectator. Assuming that the “genna” is being performed on a path, as is usually the case, for the patient was probably travelling along a path when the tsandhramo took possession of his soul, the montsai places equal portions of the ginger, rarakham, meat, plantain stalk, burnt wood and taro on either side of the path. This he does sitting facing away from the village to which the patient belongs. He pours the “madhu” from the smaller of the two “chungas” onto the ground, and lays the empty “chunga” down with its base towards the village. The carrying basket is split in half, and half put on either side of the path. The montsai now drinks the contents of the large “chunga,” and splitting it with his dao lays his dao on the ground with the blade away from him. Then six times if the patient is a man, or five times if she is a woman, he drops the two halves of the split “chunga” together onto his dao, asking each time, “Will he live or die?” If both halves come to rest on the same side of the dao the illness will be a long one. If one falls on one side and one on the other the patient will either die or get well soon. Next having tied the chicken’s wings together over its back and fastened a cowrie onto its leg, he tosses it up and catches it six times for a man and five times for a woman, and undoing its wings lets it go into the jungle. He then takes his spear and jabs the butt into the ground a number of times, in order that the tsandhramo may think that a large number of men have come to call back the sick man’s soul and so be more ready to let it go. Finally, he calls out the name of the patient eight times, and says, “O so and so. We have let a chicken go for you. Come back, come back.” On his way back to the village he must keep on calling the sick man by name, and on arrival at the patient’s house he says, “I have called so and so. Has he come?” and one of the inmates will answer, “He has come.” The montsai’s fee for this ceremony is a small basket of rice. This account is of the ceremony as performed by the Northern Lhotas. The only difference the Southern Lhotas make is that instead of sixty pieces of pork they take down either a crab or a jungle rat or squirrel, which they laboriously divide up into sixty tiny pieces. The reason for this is that they regard it as essential that a whole animal, however small, should be offered. This employment of a scapegoat chicken is common to Lhotas, Aos, Semas, Changs and probably most Naga tribes.

If a man be only slightly indisposed on his return from a journey the ratsen will tell him that a tsandhramo is detaining his soul at such and such a place on the path along which he came—always a spot conveniently near the village—and that an offering of eggs is all that is required. The sick man will then either go with a montsai or alone to the place. There the montsai, or the patient if he goes alone, puts on either side of the path a big leaf and an egg, and on the leaf taro, ginger, boiled rice, burnt wood and cotton, chilies, or whatever he may have been carrying when his soul was enticed away. He then goes home, calling his soul in the ordinary way. The cheapness of this method of regaining his soul appeals to the Lhota, who performs the ceremony on the least provocation. In cases of long illness more persuasion is required to induce the soul to return. A meal is prepared in the house, great care being taken that no stranger touches it, and put wrapped up in leaves in a carrying basket with a new cloth and the patient’s ornaments. This is taken to the montsai’s house, who that night meets the patient’s soul in his dreams and tries to persuade it to return by pointing out that food and new clothes and ornaments are all ready for it if only it will come back. If it cannot be persuaded to return by these inducements the patient is doomed.