APPENDIX.
THE LEGEND OF CREATION.
Condensed from Mr. Allen’s (of the American Presbyterian Mission) replies to ethnographical questions, dated October, 1900.
Long ago the gods Hèmphū and Mukràng took counsel together for the creation of the world. They marked the limits of their work, setting up four great posts to fix the boundaries of things, and fastened them immovably with six of their mother’s hairs. Then they looked for seed to produce the earth, but found none. Then they consulted a hundred other gods, with their wives, making, with themselves and their wives, two hundred and four in all. It was decided to send one of the wives to beg for some earth from the god Hājòng, and Bāmon’s wife was sent on this errand. But Hājòng refused to give any earth from his world from which a rival world might be fashioned, and sent the goddess Bāmonpī away empty-handed. But as she returned she noticed the worm-casts on the road, and carried off one and hid it in her bosom. But even with this piece of warm earth nothing could be done, until the gods sent for Hēlòng Rēchō, the king of the earth-worms, who came and worked up the piece of earth, till in one day it became a heap many feet in diameter; so he continued, till eventually it became this earth of ours. But it was still soft moist earth, on which no one could travel. So they called Kāpràng the blacksmith, who with his bellows produced a wind which dried the mud to solid earth. Then the gods said, “We must cause plants to grow on it.” They searched everywhere for seed, and at last sent to Rèkbēpī in the west, by the great post that marked the place of the setting sun, to ask her for seed. Rèkbēpī came, and herself brought seed and sowed it. (Another version states that Rèkbēpī and Rèk-krōpi, wives of two gods, went to Kānā, beyond the boundaries of this world, and obtained from him the various seeds of trees and plants. As they were returning, the sinàm, or head-strap, which held the baskets on their heads broke, and the winds scattered the seeds on the surface of the earth. This occurred on the bank of the river Kallang, in the south-eastern part of Nowgong. But all the bamboos that grew from these seeds were jointless, and therefore weak: strong winds would break down the entire crop in a single storm. So the goddesses who brought the seed tied round the stems pieces of thread to strengthen them; the threads made scars, until at last all the bamboos we have now are marked with scars at the joints.)
Next came the creation of animals. Hèmphū and Mukràng were the leaders, but they were helped by Pīthē and Pōthē (“great mother” and “great father”). The elephant was first created to be a servant to man. Then the tiger was made, and bidden to eat the wicked; any one killed by a tiger is still thought to have committed some great crime.
Then a great council was held, and it was decided to create a being called ārlèng (man). The first man’s name was Bāmon-pō, and he had created for him two wives, one a Mikir and the other an Assamese. But no offspring was born to the man for a long time. At last the Assamese wife sent her husband to her elder brother, who understood the secrets of nature. He sent Bāmonpō into his garden, and bade him pick an orange for each of his wives, and give it to her to eat, when all would be well. Bāmonpō did so, and went homewards with his two oranges. On the way, becoming hot, he stopped at a river to bathe. While he was in the water, a crow came and carried away one of the oranges. Bāmonpō sadly returned to his home, and gave the one orange left to his Assamese wife, who ate it. But the Mikir wife picked up a piece of the peel and ate it, and in process of time she had a son, whom she named Rām. The Assamese wife also had a son, whom she called Chāputi. He, however, was weak and puny, while Rām was strong and valiant. Rām could pull up trees by the roots, and break them down as he pleased. He could fight and conquer any demon who attacked him, and any man whom he met. But he had no wife. One day while out hunting he became thirsty, and climbed a tree to look for water. He saw a pool, at which he quenched his thirst. As he did so, he noticed in the grass a white thing, which he put in his basket and carried home. It was a large egg. For some days he forgot to look at it, and later on, when he went to see it, he found that the egg was broken, and a beautiful woman had come forth from it. The demons tried to seize her and carry her off, but Rām vanquished them all, and made her his wife. She was very fruitful, and her children multiplied until they were numbered by thousands. Rām’s fame spread throughout the world, till at last he disappeared, and was deified by a race of his descendants, called Hindus. They were a mighty race of men, and in the course of time, becoming dissatisfied with the mastery of the earth, they determined to conquer heaven, and began to build a tower to reach up to the skies. Higher and higher rose the building, till at last the gods and demons feared lest these giants should become the masters of heaven, as they already were of earth. So they confounded their speech, and scattered them to the four corners of the earth. Hence arose all the various tongues of men.
Additional note to p. 45.—A very exact parallel to the story of Harata Kunwar will be found in Mr. S. J. Hickson’s book entitled A Naturalist in North Celebes (London, 1889), pp. 264–6. It is a story current among the Minahassa people of that region, of heavenly nymphs in whose clothes resided their power to fly, and one of whom was captured by a man who made her his wife; other details agree closely with those of the Mikir story.
[1] “Gourd”: the word hànthār in the original is explained by Mr. Stack as the name of “a creeper, with a fruit as big as a small pumpkin, with a hard kernel in soft rind; the kernel is the size of a mango-stone; the marrow inside is in two slices; when washed, it loses its bitter taste, and can be fried, oil exuding. It is a favourite dish with the Mikirs.” It is, therefore, not really a gourd, but I am unable to identify the species. [↑]
[2] “Sparrow”: vo-ār-bipi, explained as a small bird, the size of a sparrow. In the Aimol version the corresponding word is rendered “bat”; but a bat in Mikir is vo-ārplàk, and a bat has no nest (tār) as the bird has here. [↑]
[3] “Stinging-nettle”: tārmē-làngbòng; this is probably not a nettle (urtica), but some other kind of blistering plant found in the Assam jungles; tārmē means a creeper, làngbòng a vessel made of bamboo to hold water. [↑]
[4] Fish-trap, rū: a bamboo cage placed in an opening in a weir or dam built of stones or constructed of wattled boughs, so that the fish entering cannot get out. The same word is used later (see note p. 53) for the iron cage (ingchin āru) in which the orphan is confined. [↑]
[5] “May a tiger eat you, you wicked boy!” Tekē nàng kòrdutpī ā-osṓ, literally, “You tiger-bitten boy!” pī is a syllable used in abuse, as pō (“father”) is used in the opposite sense, e.g. pō-ārnàm-pō, “My good sir!” literally, “father-god-father;” lower down, addressing a girl, pē (“mother”) is similarly used: “pē-ārnàm-pī,” “dear girl!” [↑]
[6] Cloth-full, mànthung: a cloth or wrapper (pē) folded cylindrically into a bag, and tied at the top and bottom with slit bamboo (jingtàk). [↑]
[7] “Iron cage”: see note on p. 48 above. [↑]
[8] The nòksèk: the part of the house (in kàm: see plan, p. 8) between the fireplace and the middle partition, where the offerings of food for the spirits of the dead are placed. [↑]
[9] “A field-watcher’s hut,” hèm-thàp: a small hut, raised high upon posts and thatched over, built in a clearing for cultivation, in which the cultivator passes the night for the purpose of scaring wild pigs and deer away from the crop. [↑]
[10] A species of potherb, so-called in Assamese: Bengali pūtikā, Basella lucida. It has red juicy fruit. [↑]
[11] Notice the simplicity of life indicated by the occupations the fairy princesses have to attend to on their return to their celestial home. [↑]
[12] The exact species of these flowers is not vouched for; those named are common in the house-gardens of Assamese cultivators. [↑]
[13] See the note on p. 60. [↑]
[14] The flesh of animals killed by hunters is cut into strips and dried in the sun on frames of bamboo, for future use. The frames are called in Mikir ur and ràp. [↑]
[15] “Jungle-cock”: Gallus ferrugineus, the wild fowl of Assam jungles. [↑]
[16] “Cock-pheasant”: vorèk ālōpō, the dorīk (Ass.) or “derrick,” Gennæus Horsfieldii, the black-breasted kalij pheasant of north-east India. [↑]
VI.
LANGUAGE.
Outline of Mikir grammar—The original text of the three stories translated in [Section V]., analysed and elucidated.
The language spoken by the Mikirs belongs to the great family of Indo-Chinese speech called Tibeto-Burman, the general characteristics of which have been fully set forth in The Linguistic Survey of India, vol. iii. Mikir itself is treated on pp. 380 ff. of Part II. of that volume, and is described by Dr. Grierson as a member of the Nāgā-Boḍo sub-group, in which it is classed together with Ēmpēo or Kachchā Nāgā, Kabui, and Khoirāo. It is unnecessary here to occupy space with any demonstration of the fact that Mikir is a Tibeto-Burman language, or to cite lists of words in it agreeing with those of other languages of the same great class. In the [next section] an attempt will be made to examine its affinities with other varieties of Tibeto-Burman speech, and to define more clearly its place in the family; in this the language will be dealt with in its internal structure only, and, as specimens, the original text of the three stories translated in [Section V]. will be given, with an interlinear rendering and a running commentary.
A grammatical sketch of Mikir was printed at pp. 381–391 of Part II. vol. iii. of the Linguistic Survey. What follows is mainly borrowed from that source, which was the first published attempt to explain systematically the facts and mechanism of the language.