Chapter III: The Old Kuki Clans (2)

The Lamgang have an extra feast, or rather period of rest, when the grain is all garnered, when for ten days no one may enter or leave the village, and no work can be done, the whole energies of the community being concentrated on eating and drinking well.

2. Feasts Corresponding with the Thangchhuah Feasts of the Lushai.--The idea of "Thangchhuah" is found in some form or other in all clans. Even in those clans who have no very clear conception of a special abode for the spirits of those who have earned good fortune in the world beyond the grave by feasts and killing men and animals here below, we find feasts the giving of which confers on the giver special consideration among his fellow-villagers and entitles his corpse to special funeral honours. All these feasts seem more or less connected with the erection of some form of memorial--either a post, such as the Lushai "she-lu-pun," which finds its counterpart among several Old Kuki clans, but among them the erection of the memorial is the important part of the ceremony, whereas among the Lushais the killing of the animal is the more important and the feast is named after that, not after the planting of the post; or a stone or a heap of stones, or a paved platform. All these are erected during a man's life and are quite distinct from the memorials erected in memory of the deceased, and thus connect the Lushai-Kuki race with the Nagas, among whom the erection of stones is a very important function.

The "Mi-thi-rawp-lam" is not included in the Thangchhuah series by any of these clans--in fact, it seems to be omitted by all clans not living under Lushei chiefs. These all have a special annual ceremony to lay the ghosts of those who have died during the preceding year. The explanation of this seems to be that among the Lushais the clans have all been broken up and are scattered in different villages, and therefore an annual clan ceremony is not possible, and it has become a virtuous act for some wealthy member of the clan to celebrate the feast in honour of the dead of the clan. Among the clans which have retained their corporate existence the annual ceremony is natural, and therefore it is excluded from the Thangchhuah series.

The Tikhup can earn consideration after death by giving a single feast. The young men and maidens collect a big heap of stones and arrange a seat of honour near it for the giver of the feast, who is carried down on a litter. The young folk dance and sing and drink before him, and then he is carried back to the village and has to present a mithan to the young men, who feast on it for a day and a night at the house of their leader. A song is composed in honour of the giver of the feast, which is sung at all subsequent feasts.

The Lamgang, Kom, Kolhen, and Anal put up wooden posts, the Chawte erect a post and pave a piece of ground in front of it, while the Aimol put up a stone and make a pavement. Mithan and pigs are killed, and a feast given which lasts several days, the cost being met by the person ambitious of fame.

The Chiru alone seem to have no idea of Thangchhuah, and, as noted before, have no idea of a special abode for good spirits.

The Vaiphei have to give two feasts, at the first of which one, and at the second two or more, mithan are killed. The Kolhen, on occasion of putting up the post, sacrifice a mithan thus:--The thempu first throws an egg at the forehead of the mithan, muttering a charm to drive away all evil; the animal is then speared until blood is drawn, after which it may be shot. They also give the following feasts as part of the Thangchhuah ceremonies:--"Khuang-that"--i.e., "making a drum." The first day is occupied in bringing the log which is to be hollowed into the drum; on the second there is a dance outside the house of the giver of the feast; on the third the mithan is killed after a thempu has broken the egg on its forehead, and then another thempu invokes its spirit, blowing rice-beer over the body, as at the Fanai festival, p. 138. The fourth and fifth days are occupied with feasting.

"Lungainai"--i.e., "collection of stones"--this is very similar to the Tikhup festival, with the carrying of the giver omitted; a mithan is killed as above described. The Aimol have also the drum-making feast, and another in which the giver is carried on a litter, but no heap of stones is made. On each occasion much rice-beer and flesh has to be consumed.

3. Other Feasts.--Mostly annual, if necessary provisions are forthcoming. Some of these probably have reference to the crops.

The Purum celebrate "Yarr" in February for seven days. Dancing begins each evening at sundown, and is kept up all night with feasting and drinking. In March they keep "Kumyai" for three days, the young men and maidens dancing and drinking together, but no animals are killed. This seems probably equivalent to the "Chap-char-kut" of the Lushais, but both it and the Yarr are said to be to please the village god, without any special reference to the crops. The Lamgang have a peculiar feast early in May, when the young men plant a very tall bamboo, from the end of which hangs a wooden representation of a bird, at which every man in turn, commencing with the thempu and the khul-lakpa, shoot with bows and arrows. Mithan are killed and eaten. No woman is allowed to join this festival.

The Chiru and Kolhen celebrate a somewhat similar festival called "Ratek" in the middle of August. A pig and a dog are sacrificed by the thempu outside the village, on the side towards Kobru, and then two or three days later an offering of zu is placed in a small bamboo tube beside the water supply, and the drum is beaten for some time; the party then return to the khul-lakpa's house and are treated to a drink. The following day a tall bamboo is planted in the village with a wonderfully ornamented basket hanging from it, and much zu drunk. The following year the bamboo is taken up and thrown away, the festival being named "Ratek poiyi" (cf. Lushai "pai," to throw away). Before the feast young men go hunting, and if they are successful good luck is sure to follow. The first day of the feast a pig and a dog are sacrificed, and zu drunk; on the second, the bamboo is thrown away and more zu drunk in the house of the khul-lakpa. On the third day the unmarried girls of the village give a drinking feast to the young men, and both dance together. Should the zu suffice this portion of the festival may be prolonged for several days.

It is believed that unless these two festivals are carried out every year in their proper rotation, there will be serious mortality among the elders of the village.

Since writing the above, I have found two more small clans, which evidently belong to the Old Kuki group--Lonte or Ronte, of whom there are only nine households, living alongside of the Burma road, close to the Chawte hamlet, with whom they are classed by the Manipuris; and Tarau, eighteen households living slightly to the south of the Burma road.

The Ronte clan is divided into two families, called Lanu and Changom. Marriages can only be made with members of the other family of the clan. They say that they came from the Ngente hill far to the south (v. Ngente clan), and claim some connection with the Chiru and Aimol.

The Tarau clan is divided into four families, and marriages are restricted as among the Chawte, Chiru, and Kolhen.

A youth of the Pachana family must marry a girl of the Tlangsha family.

A youth of the Tlangsha family must marry a girl of the Thimasha family.

A youth of the Thimasha family must marry a girl of the Khulpu-in family.

A youth of the Khulpu-in family must marry a girl of the Pachana family.

In both clans the young men sleep in any house, except their parents', in which there are unmarried girls. The Ronte say that formerly they built zawlbuks like the Lushais.

The price of a Tarau girl is a gong or Rs. 30/-, or five years service in the girl's father's house. The Ronte maiden's price is two gongs, and her proper husband is her maternal first cousin. In both clans a fowl has to be killed by the khulpu at the time of the marriage, and the Ronte tie some of its feathers round the necks of the couple. Should a Tarau maiden be led astray both parties are fined a pot of rice-beer, which the villagers share, and the seducer pays the girl's father one pig. The child, when old enough to leave the mother, becomes the property of the father. A Ronte mother must not leave her house till five days after the birth of a daughter and seven after that of a son. On the day of the birth there is a feast, and on the fifth or seventh day, according to the sex of the child, a fowl is killed by the khulpu, and the child's hair is cut, its ears pierced, and its name decided on, the choice being made from the names of its forefathers. The house is purified by being sprinkled with zu by the khulpu.

Among the Tarau, the period during which the mother may not leave her house is prolonged to ten days, at the expiry of which the khulpu kills a cock for male child and a hen for girl, and then purifies the house.

In both clans the dead are buried in a cemetery situated to the west of the village, while the corpses of those who have died unnatural deaths are buried elsewhere with no ceremony. Women dying in childbirth among the Tarau are buried by old men, who have no further hope of becoming fathers, far from the village, while persons being killed by wild animals, or by some accident, such as a fall from a tree, are buried where they die. Persons who are drowned are buried on the bank of the river where the body is found, the grave being dug at the spot where some water thrown up by hand from the river happens to fall. This custom also exists among the Shans of the Upper Chindwin, which lends some colour to the tradition that the Tarau sojourned in Burma before entering Manipur. Among the Ronte, women dying in childbirth, and all children dying under a year of age, are buried to the east of the village, while accidental deaths necessitate the burial being made to the south. The funeral takes place on the day of death except in the case of old men, whose corpses are kept for a day while their friends eat, drink, and dance before them. Whatever animals can be spared are killed in the honour of the deceased, and their sherh are buried with him, together with some rice. Every day till the "Papek" feast, in honour of those who have died within the year, rice and zu are placed on the grave. At Papek a platform of bamboo is constructed near the cemetery, and on it are placed such offering of flesh as the family can afford; much zu is drunk and all dance. The Ronte Sakhua sacrifice consists of a goat, dogs and mithan being prohibited.

Although the Tarau, from their language, are evidently closely allied to the Lushais, they are the only Old Kuki clan I have met which does not worship Pathian. They denied all knowledge of that name, affirming the name of their god was "Rapu," to whom the Manipuri name of "Sankhulairenma" has been given. Rapu has a shrine just above the Burma road near to Tegnopal, where every year fish, rice, and zu are offered to him. When the rice begins to fill in the ear there is a five days' feast in the village, during which time the young people dance and drink. A pig is killed, and the liver, ears, feet, and snout are offered to Rapu. These are called "sar" (cf. Lushai "sherh"). Before the cutting of jhums commences a small pig or a fowl is sacrificed to Rapu so that no one may be cut with a dao during the clearing of the jhums. Dogs are not eaten or sacrificed by the Tarau or the Ronte; the latter also consider the mithan unfit for a sacrifice. In these particulars they form an exception to the general custom of Kuki clans.

The Ronte have a feast called "Va-en-la," which is given with the idea of enhancing the giver's importance in this world and assuring him comfort in the next. A pig is killed and thirty pots of zu are prepared, and the whole village makes merry. A long bamboo is planted in front of the house of the giver of the feast. Throughout its length this bamboo is transfixed with crosspieces of bamboo about 18 inches long; from its end depends a bamboo representation of a bird, whence the name of the feast--"va," in Ronte, as in Lushai, meaning "a bird," and "en," "to see."

To show the similarity between the Tarau and the Lushai language I give a few words of each.

ENGLISH. LUSHAI. TARAU.

One Pa-khat Khat.
Two Pa-hnih Ni.
Three Pa-thum Thum.
Four Pa-li Ma-li.
Five Pa-nga Ranga.
Six Pa-ruk Kuruk.
Seven Pa-sari Siri.
Eight Pa-riat Tirit.
Nine Pa-kua Ku.
Ten Shom Shom.
Father Pa Pa.
Mother Nu Nu.
Son Fa-pa Sha-pa. (Thado, "chapa.")
Daughter Fa-nu Sha-nu.
House In Im.
Sun Ni Ni.
Moon Thla Thla.
Water Tui Tui. To carry water, "tui choi,"
in both dialects.
Dog Ui Uh.
Mithan Shial Shil.
Tree Thing Thing.
Jhum Lo Lou.

The east and west in Tarau are called "ni-chhuak-lam" and "ni-thlak-lam," which are pure Lushai for "the direction of sun rising and sun setting."

Folklore.

1. Legends.--A large number of tales have been collected by Babu Nithor Nath Banerji, of the Manipur State Office, from which I select the following. They have all to a certain extent suffered by being told to the Babu in Manipuri instead of in the vernacular of the relaters. This accounts for Manipuri names being used in some cases.

The following is a tale told by the Anals:--"Once upon a time the whole world was flooded. All were drowned except one man and one woman, who ran to the highest peak of the Leng hill [this is interesting, as Leng is the name of one of the highest hills in the present Lushai Hills], where they climbed up a high tree and hid themselves among its branches. The tree grew near a large pond, which was as clear as the eye of a crow. They made themselves as comfortable as they could, being determined to spend the night there. They passed the night, sometimes exchanging whispers, and in the morning they were astonished to find that they had become a tiger and a tigress. [This changing of human beings into animals reminds one of the Lushai Thimzing legend.] Pathian, seeing the sad state of the world, sent a man and a woman from a cave, which was on the hill, to re-people it. The man and the woman emerging from the cave were terrified at seeing the two huge animals, and addressed Pathian thus: 'O Father, you have sent us to re-people the world, but we do not think that we shall be able to carry out your intention, as the whole world is under water, and the only spot on which we could make a resting place is occupied by two ferocious beasts which are waiting to devour us; give us strength to slay these animals.' After which they killed the tigers and lived happily and begat many sons and daughters, and from them the world was re-populated."

The following tale told by the Kolhen resembles in many particulars the story of Kungori told by Colonel Lewin, which is given below:--

The Story of Fachirang and Rangchar.

"Once upon a time there lived a widow; she had a daughter whose beauty attracted many young men of the village. One day a tiger came in the shape of a man and asked to marry the girl. She was much frightened and kept silence. The tiger-man was angry at her behaviour, and recited a charm which made her ugly. Her mother said, 'Look! my daughter who was the most beautiful girl in the village has become ugly; if a man can restore her beauty he may marry her, and if a woman can do it she shall be my friend.' On hearing this, the tiger-man came to the old woman and said, 'Oh! Granny, I am a stranger, and have come from a distant village; let me put up in your house.' The old lady agreed, and after a few days he said, 'Oh! Granny, why are you so sad? Tell me the cause of your sorrow. Perhaps I can remove it.' 'Alas, my boy, it is beyond your power to do so,' she replied. The tiger-man, however, pressed her to tell him, and at last she did so, whereupon he replied, 'All right, if I cure her you will give her to me,' and in a few days he had restored her beauty, and they were married and lived together in her mother's house for many years. At length he asked permission to take his wife to his own home, and they started, but no sooner had they passed the village gate than he was changed into the shape of a tiger, and his wife wept much at seeing him thus. An old woman of the village saw them and came and told the people that a tiger was carrying off the girl, so the villagers assembled to consult, but no one would volunteer for the task of rescuing the girl. At last Fachirang and Rangchar, two brothers, set off with a dao and a spear to kill the animal, but after going a very little way Fachirang, the elder brother, said, 'Oh! Rangchar, I don't know what is the matter, but my heart beats so fast that I must remain here; you go and see if you can kill the beast alone.' So the younger brother went on alone till he came to the place where the tiger and the girl were living happily. Rangchar thrust his spear into the breast of the tiger, and it died at once, and Rangchar carried off the girl and returned to where his brother was waiting, and they all three set out for home together. The elder brother married the girl, and they all lived happily together."

The Story of Kúngóri.

(From "Progressive Colloquial Exercises in the Lushai Dialect" by Captain H. Lewin, 1874.)

Her father, who was unmarried, was splitting cane to make a winnowing basket when he ran a splinter into his hand: the splinter grew into a little child; (after a time) the child was brought forth motherless and they called her Kúngóri. They fed her with single grains of millet and rice, and so little by little she grew big. Two or three years passed by and she attained puberty; she was very pretty, and all the young-men of the village wanted to marry her, but her father refused them all. Then the young tiger-man, Keimi, took up the impression of her foot and wrapped it up and placed it on the bamboo grating over the house fire to dry. Then Kúngóri became ill.

Kúngóri's father said, "If there be anyone that can cure her, he shall have my daughter." All the villagers tried, but not one of them could do any good. Then the young tiger-man came. "I will cure her, and I will marry her afterwards," said he. Her father said, "Cure the girl first and you may then have her."

So he cured her; the footprint which he had placed to dry on the fire-shelf he opened out and threw away. Kúngóri became well and Keimi married her. "Come, Kúngóri," said he, "will you go to my house?" So they went; on the road Keimi turned himself into a tiger, Kúngóri caught hold of his tail, and they ran like the wind. Some women of the village were gathering wood and they saw this, so they went back home and said to Kúngóri's father, "Your daughter has got a tiger for a husband." Kúngóri's father said, "Whoever can go and take Kúngóri may have her," but no one dared to take her. However, Hpohtir and Hrangchal, two friends, said, "We will take her." Kúngóri's father said, "If you are able to take her you may have her," so Hpohtir and Hrangchal set off. Going on they came to Keimi's village. The young tiger-man, Keimi, had gone out hunting; before he reached his house Hpohtir and Hrangchal went to Kúngóri. "Kúngóri," said they, "where is your husband?" "He is gone out hunting," she said, "but will be home directly." On this they became afraid, and Hpohtir and Hrangchal climbed up on to the top of the high fire-shelf. Kúngóri's husband arrived. "There is the smell of a human being," said he. "It must be my smell," said Kúngóri. Night fell; everyone ate their dinners and lay down to rest. In the morning Kúngóri's husband again went out to hunt. A widow said (to the two friends), "If you are going to run away with Kúngóri take fire-seed, thorn-seed, and water-seed (with you)." So they took fire-seed, thorn-seed, and water-seed, and they took Kúngóri also and carried her off.

Kúngóri's husband returned home. He looked and found Kúngóri was gone, so he followed after them in hot haste. A little bird called to Hrangchal. "Run! run! Kúngóri's husband will catch you," said the bird. So (the friends) scattered the fire-seed, and the jungle and undergrowth burnt furiously, so that Kúngóri's husband could not come any further. When the fire subsided he again resumed the pursuit.

The little bird cried to Hrangchal, "He is catching you up." So they scattered the water-seed, and a great river rose. However, Kúngóri's husband waited for the water to go down, and when the water went down he followed after them as before.

The bird said to Hrangchal, "He is after you again--he is fast gaining on you; sprinkle the thorn-seed," and thorns sprouted in thickets, so that Kúngóri's husband could not get on. By biting and tearing the thorns he at length made a way. and again he followed after them. Hrangchal's [11] party became bewildered and hid in a clump of reeds. Hpohtir cut the tiger down dead with a blow of his dao. "I am Hpohtir,"1 said he. So the tiger died.

Hrangchal and the others went on again until they came to the three cross-roads of Khuavang, and there they stopped. Hpohtir and Hrangchal were to keep guard turn about. Hrangchala went to sleep first while Hpohtir kept watch.

At night Khuavang came. "Who is staying at my cross-roads?" he said. Hpohtira (spoke out boldly). "Hpohtira and Hrangchala (are here)," said he, "crouching under the reeds. We cut off the tiger's head without much ado." Khuavang, hearing and becoming afraid, ran off. So Hpohtira (woke up Hrangchal, saying), "Hrangchal, get up; you stay awake now. I am very sleepy; I will lie down. If Khuavang comes you must not be afraid." Having said this he slept. Hrangchala watched; presently Khuavang returned. "Who is this staying at my cross-roads?" he said. Hrangchala was frightened; (however), he replied, "Hpohtira and Hrangchala (are here); they killed the tiger that followed them among the reed-roots." But Khuavang was not to be frightened by this, so he took Kúngóri. Kúngóri marked the road, trailing behind her a line of cotton thread. They entered into a hole in the earth, and so arrived at Khuavang's village. The hole in the earth was stopped up by a great stone. In the morning Hpohtir and Hrangchala began to abuse each other. Said Hpohtira to Hrangchal, "Fool man!" said he, "where has Kúngóri gone to? On account of your faintheartedness Khuavang has carried her off. Away! you will have to go to Khuavang's village." So they followed Kúngóri's line of white thread and found that the thread entered (the earth) under a big rock. They moved away the rock and saw Khuavang's village below them. Hpohtira called out, "Hoy! give me back my Kúngóri!" Khuavang replied, "We know nothing about your Kúngóri, whom you were taking away." "If you do not (immediately) give me Kúngóri I will use my dao," said Hpohtir. "Hit away," answered Khuavang. With one cut of the dao a quarter of the village died right off. Again Hpohtir cried, "Give me my Kúngóri," Khuavang said, "Your Kúngóri is not here." On this Hpohtir and Hrangchal said, "We will come in." "Come along," said Khuavang, so they went in and came to Khuavang's house. Khuavang's daughter was a very pretty girl. "Here is Kúngóri," said they. "This is not she," said Hpohtir; "give me Kúngóri herself." So (at last) they gave her to him.

They took her away. Kúngóri said, "I have forgotten my comb." "Go, Hrangchal, and fetch it," said Hpohtir; but Hrangchala--"I dare not. I am afraid," said he. So Hpohtir went (himself) to fetch (the comb). While he was gone Hrangchal took Kúngóri out and closed the hole with the great stone. After this they arrived at the house of Kúngóri's father. "You have been able to release my daughter," said he, "so take her." Kúngóri, however, did not agree. Said Kúngóri's father, "Hrangchal is here, but where is Hpohtira?" "We do not know Hpohtira's dwelling-place," he said. So Hrangchala and Kúngóri were united. Though Kúngóri did not wish it, he just married her.

Hpohtira was married to Khuavang's daughter. Beside the house he sowed a koi-seed. It sprouted and a creeper sprang (upwards like a ladder). Hpohtira, when he was at Khuavang's, had a child (born to him), and he cooked some small stones, and when his wife was absent he gave the stones which he had cooked to the child, saying, "Eat." While it was eating Hpohtir climbed up the stalks of the koi creeper and got out. He went on and arrived at the house of Kúngóri's father. They had killed a mithan, and were celebrating the Khuangchoi and dancing. With one blow Hpohtira cut off the head of Hrangchal!

Kúngóri's father cried, "Why, Hpohtira, do you cut off Hrangchala's head?" "I was obliged to decapitate him," said Hpohtir. "It was I who released Kúngóri from Keimi's village--Hrangchala dared not do it. When Khuavang carried off Kúngóri also Hrangchala dared not say him nay--he was afraid. Afterwards we followed Kúngóri's line of cotton thread, which led us to Khuavang's village. Kúngóri (after we had released her from there) forgot her comb; we told Hrangchal to go and fetch it, but he dared not. 'I am afraid,' said he, so I went to get it. He then took Kúngóri and left me behind, shutting the hole in the earth with a great stone. They went away. I married Khuavang's daughter, and while she was absent I climbed up the stalks of the creeper and came here." On this, "Is it so?" said they. "Then you shall be united." So Hrangchala died, and Hpohtira and Kúngóri were married. They were very comfortable together, and killed many mithan; they possessed many villages, and lived happy ever after. Thus the story is concluded.

I condense the following tale told by the Kolhen from the obviously embellished version supplied to the Babu:--

A widow had seven sons and one daughter, called Ringchanghoi, who was very beautiful, and much beloved by her brothers. To prove the truth of their professions of love she sent them off to catch the sun and the moon, that she might wear them as her necklace. Before their departure they built her a fortified house, and told her to remain within it until their return. They also left with her some unhusked rice, which had magical properties, turning red whenever the brothers were in danger. Ringchanghoi one day was sitting in the verandah cleaning her hair when she was seen by the king, who quickly added her to the number of his wives. The youngest brother, returning alone, found the house empty, and at once rejoining the others in the sky, where they were still hunting the sun and moon, told them of the disappearance of their sister. They all returned home, and on entering the house the youngest brother was changed into a parrot, while the others fell down dead. The youngest brother finds his sister and is captured and presented to her, and tells her what has happened, whereupon she sends off her husband, who by a powerful charm restores the dead to life and the youngest brother to his original form, and all ends happily.

In this tale there is some slight resemblance to the Lushai tale of Rimenhoi, as also there is to the tales told by many clans to account for eclipses of the sun and moon. The Kom, for instance, say that the god Awk-pa was drying his rice when the sun and the moon came riding by and scattered it; this vexed Awk-pa, who lay in ambush in a cave, and the next time they came he swallowed them. The resemblance between this tale and the Lushai explanation of an eclipse is very marked. The name "Awk" is the same, and the idea of swallowing is preserved. The Purum, while using the same word for an eclipse, have quite a different story:--"Once upon a time there were seven brothers who went into the forest to cut wood, and shot a deer, and ordered the youngest brother to cook it while they went on with their work. The youngest brother, having cooked the meat, put it on some leaves till his brothers should return. Some leaves from a tree fell on the meat, whereupon the deer came to life again and ran away. The brothers returning got angry and, not believing the tale told by the youngest, killed him and put his body under the tree. Some leaves falling on the corpse, it came to life, and the brothers were much astonished and went home, taking some of the leaves, roots, and bark of the tree with them." On their way they saw the body of a dog floating in a river which they had to cross, and put some bark on it and the animal revived. When they reached home they put the bark, leaves, and pieces of root to dry in the sunshine, leaving their dog to watch them. The sun and the moon, perceiving the usefulness of the things, stole them all and were chased by the dog. When the dog gets too near, the sun and the moon hide, thus causing eclipses. The Kolhen have the same name for an eclipse, and their explanation of the phenomenon is much the same. The god Rikumpu left his dog to watch his garden, and the sun and the moon came to steal, and are still being chased by the faithful hound. The Lamgang say that eclipses are caused by their god catching the sun and the moon, who once stole his tobacco as it was drying. The Anal have much the same idea. The story is worthy of being given at length:--"Once upon a time a very pious man who devoted much time to worshipping God had a pet bitch. The sun and the moon, being envious, tried to take his virtue from the man. To accomplish their wicked purpose they promised to give him their virtue if only he would first entrust them with his. The saint fell into the trap and the celestial rascals ran off with his virtue. The holy man, finding himself defrauded, ordered his dog to catch the thieves. The dog brought a long pole and climbed up it to reach the fugitives, being followed by her master. She reached the sky and still chases the sun and moon, and sometimes catches them. Therefore, when an eclipse occurs the Anal call out, 'Release! Release!' The poor pious man took so long ascending the pole that before he accomplished the journey the white ants had eaten up the lower end and the saint fell to the earth and was killed." Thunder and lightning are accounted for by some clans thus:--Wulai the lizard climbs a tall tree and shouts defiance, whereupon God from the sky hurls his axe at him and he runs down, but the tree is burnt up. The Anal and Kom have also a more poetic explanation of lightning--viz., that it is the glitter of God's sword as he plays with it in heaven, while the Purum also say that it is the glitter of his robes.

Earthquakes are accounted for by assuming the existence of another world below the surface of the earth. The Purum and Kom say that Yangmal the earth worm took a present of a piece of earth to the king of these lower regions. On the way the earth was changed into gold and silver, much to the delight of the monarch, who sent Yangmal back to fetch more, but the worm made excuse that the upper world had been destroyed. To test the truth of this statement the king shakes the world. The Anal and Lamgang say that the people of the lower world shake the upper one to find out if anyone is still alive up there, and so on, an earthquake occurring the Anal and Lamgang villages resound with shouts of "Alive! Alive!" Rainbows are accounted for as the lips of God spread in the act of drinking, or simply his glory.

Note.--I must acknowledge the assistance I have received in preparing the account of these Old Kuki tribes from Babu Nithor Nath Banerji, head clerk of the Manipur State Hill Office. My information regarding the Anal, Kom, Purum, and Lamgang was chiefly from his notes, and in a lesser degree I am indebted to him for details regarding the Kolhen and Chiru.

Old Kuki Clans--Khawtlang and Khawchhak

The Old Kukis who appeared in Cachar about 1780 are described by Lieutenant Stewart as being divided into three clans called Rhangkol, Khelma, and Beteh. The first and last are known in the Lushai Hills as Hrangchal and Biate respectively, but the Khelma, whom Dr. Grierson identifies as the Hallam, seem to have emigrated entirely. The Hrangchal and Biate are two of many clans collectively known to the Lushais as Hmar--i.e., North--from the position of their villages with reference to those of the Lushais, and among themselves as Khawtlang and Khawchhak--i.e., Western and Eastern Villages I have found representatives of 16 clans in the Lushai Hills and adjoining portions of Manipur. The most important are Loitlang, subdivided into six families; Hrangchal, with four families; Thiak, with five families; and Biate, with the same number. The old village sites of many of these clans are still called by their names. The Hrangchal are said to have had a large village at Vanlaiphai, in the centre of which valley is a large memorial stone with many carvings on it, which is said to have been erected in memory of Chonluma, a famous Hrangchal chief of bygone days. The Biate assert that when they lived on the hill of that name they were attacked by huge eagles, and had to build stone shelters in which to hide their small children. These erections are still to be seen, and consist of three rough slabs of stone with a fourth as a roof, the whole structure being only about 2 to 3 feet high. It was the Biate, also, who fed Rulpui, as has been described in Part I., Chapter V, 3. The Lungthau, a minor family, attribute their downfall to an attack by Chuckmahs, which led to their seeking refuge with the Sailo chief Lalsavunga, and forming a village at Kelsi, near Aijal, where they were under his protection.

When the aggressions of the Thangur chiefs disturbed the Khawtlang and Khawchhak one section fled through the country of the Thados into Cachar, another took refuge among the Chhinchhuan, a Thado family in the southern portion of the Manipur Hills, to whom they paid tribute, and a certain number joined the Thangur villages. Between those who fled to the Chhinchhuan and the Lushais hostilities were carried on until our arrival in 1890, and, as in the case of the Vuite, we found many of them living in a state of semi-slavery in the Sailo villages, whence they have mostly rejoined their relatives, and there are now 296 households of these people in the south-west of the Manipur Hills and more in the adjoining parts of the Lushai Hills. Lieutenant Stewart, in his description of the "Old Kukis," states that ordinarily the dead are cremated, warriors only being buried. I have never heard of any clan in these hills which cremates its dead. The custom may well have died out owing to the natural wish of the relatives to do honour to the deceased by according him the honours of a warrior. Lieutenant Stewart describes a regular marriage ceremony conducted by the headman of the village, at the foot of a large stone erected in the middle of the village. As far as my enquiries go, the marriage ceremonies differ very little from those of the Lushais.

The dress of the men is the same as among the Lushais, but the women wear a petticoat with a broad white line between two narrower blue ones, and dress their hair in a long plait wound round the head. Zawlbuks are not maintained, but in other respects their villages resemble those of the Lushais. The village organisation is more democratic, the chief being replaced by a headman. The honours of "Thangchhuah" and admission to Pial-ral are obtained by three times celebrating the Buh-ai festival. There is no restriction as to having windows.

When a young man wishes to marry he sends messengers bearing a blue and a white cloth, a hoe, and a pot of liquor to the girl's parents. This is called "In hawn." If the articles are accepted the marriage takes place as soon as the necessary amount of zu can be prepared. The bride's parents kill a pig and the two families feast together. The girl is conveyed to her husband's house by the men who arranged the marriage, the party being pelted with dirt as among the Lushais.

In case of adultery, it is the seducer, not the woman's relatives, who have to compensate the injured husband. This is the common rule among non-Lushei clans.

A boy is named seven days and a girl five days after birth, a red cock being killed and zu drunk. The maternal uncle gives the name.

In common with many Old Kuki clans, the dead are buried in a special cemetery outside the village. The corpse of a "Thangchhuah," dressed in fine cloths and the head adorned with a chaplet of the tail feathers of the hornbill, is carried round the village on a bier by all the old people of both sexes, encircled by a ring of dancers singing a dirge to the accompaniment of drums, and followed by the widow dressed in the scantiest rags and raising loud lamentations. A halt is called opposite the house of every person of importance, and the inmate is expected to regale the party with zu. The circuit of the village completed, the corpse is carried to the grave and buried with rice and other eatables and a flagon of zu. A rough representation of a house is built over the grave and food and drink are placed in it for a year. The grave is fenced round and the heads of any animals which have been killed in the deceased's honour are placed on posts. At the close of a year a cane is stretched between poles over the grave, and from it are suspended pieces of cloth, small baskets containing tobacco and linseed, and the bodies of small animals and birds. This is the final ceremony, and the spirit is supposed to have no further concern with this world.

The Biate in the Lushai Hills worship the images in the Bhuban caves, but I am told that those in the North Cachar Hills differ in this respect. The three images are called Bolawng Raia, Chhinga Raia, and Maituki Raia, Raia being a corruption of Rajah. A fowl, a pig, two eggs, and two kinds of jungle vegetable called "chinghrut" and "hruitung" are offered to these deities outside the village once a year. The following tale is told to account for this worship of images, which is so opposed to general custom:--Long ago Zatea stole a mithan belonging to two Biate chiefs, Chonlut and Manlal, and on their trying to recover their property they were severely wounded. On their way home they noticed that the leaves of the "bung" tree, a species of Ficus, attached themselves to their clothes, and at night they dreamt that the leaves spoke, saying, "Do not throw us away; we are sent by the gods of the Bhuban caves to heal you." They applied the leaves to their wounds and were soon healed, and then set off in search of these new gods. [12] It is probable that in the course of their wanderings the Biate at one time lived near the Bhuban, and in that case their adopting the figures as local deities is quite in keeping with what has happened in other clans. Thus the Chiru worship the god of Kobru, though their settlement near that hill is of recent date. The Zote, a clan very closely allied to the Biate, after sacrificing a mithan, place bung leaves in a basket at the foot of the memorial post and throw them away with the "sherh" after three days. This clan pays special honour to Chhura, and after a mithan sacrifice a knotched pole called Chhura's ladder is placed against the gable of the house, and the skull, tail, and entrails are placed over it for three days. The jawbones are hung on a branch specially left for this purpose when the memorial post is being trimmed; a rough fence is made round the posts, on which matting representations of pythons and a bow with an arrow adjusted are hung. The latter is said to drive off the Huai, and reminds one of the similar custom of the Manipuris on the occasion of erecting the first post of a house.