Translation of a Lushai Account of the Sakei-Ai.
“When Bengkhawia’s village was at Thenzawl, a tiger beset the village and in one day killed a mithan and two goats. The crier called on the people to surround it, and they did so. Thangbawnga shot it and performed the Ai ceremony; the night before he must not sleep. A young man cut its tail off; he also must keep awake all night. The next day he performed the Ai ceremony, sacrificing a mithan. Thangbawnga, who was performing the Ai, dressed himself up as a woman, smoked a woman’s pipe, wore a woman’s petticoat and cloth, carried a small basket, spun a cotton spindle, wore ivory earrings, let his hair down, and wrapped a mottled cloth, which was said to be of an ancient pattern, round his head as a turban. A crowd watched him and yelled with laughter, but it would have been ‘thianglo’ for him to laugh. Presently he took off his turban and carried it in the basket. Then he took off his woman’s disguise and dressed himself as a man, and strapped on a fighting dah and carried a gun. He also took ‘sailungvar’ (white flints) and put them into the tiger’s mouth while he ate eggs. ‘You eat the sailungvar,’ he said; ‘who will swallow them the quicker?’ ‘I have out-swallowed you, you have not swallowed yours; I have swallowed mine. You go by the lower road; I will go by the upper. You will be like the lower southern hills; I shall be like the high northern ones. You are the brave man of the south; I am the brave man of the north,’ he said, and cut the tiger’s head three times with his dao. Then the men buried the body of the tiger outside the village.” If the tiger has killed men, his eyes are gouged out with skewers or needles and thrown away; it is “thianglo” for the performer to laugh, so he holds a porcupine in his arms, and if he laughs by accident they say, “The porcupine laughed.” The idea of the performer disguising himself as a woman is that the spirit of the dead tiger may be humbled, thinking that it has been shot by a woman; and the giving of the flints while the performer eats eggs is to show the power of the performer over the the tiger, as he eats the eggs easily, while the tiger is unable to chew the flints.
Haohuk Ai.—The Ai of a “haohuk,” or gibbon, means a feast given to all who care to attend. Twenty pots of zu are required, but they are of a small size. A pig has to be killed and eaten. This Ai is especially necessary because of the superstition connected with the killing of these animals, which will be found in [Chapter V].
8. Sacrifices connected with jhuming. Lohman.—When the jhum house has been completed, the sacrifice has to be performed by the owner of the jhum. The puithiam has to be called and two fowls killed by him. A small hole is dug in the ground under the house and lined with plantain leaves and then filled with water, and three small stones are dropped in. The puithiam cuts the throats of the fowls, allowing the blood to fall into the hole. The sherh are then cut off and hung under the house, and the rest of the flesh is cooked and eaten in the jungle. The next day is hrilh. The first day after this on which they work, some rice and vegetables are placed on the top of one of the posts of the house platform as an offering to the Rām-huai.
Fānodawi.—The chief prepares zu in his house. Puithiam and two upas go just outside the village on the road to the jhum and sacrifice a cock, and its wings are hung on either side of the road and the sherh are placed in the middle of the road. Next day is hrilh; no one goes out of the village except to carry water. This is to make grain fill in the ear, and is performed in July.
5. Priesthood. There is no regular priesthood; the nearest approach to priests are the puithiam (great knowers). These men pretend to be able, by feeling a sick man’s pulse, to tell which sacrifice is needed. The only training necessary is to commit to memory the various “hla,” or charms, which have to be muttered while performing the sacrifices. Any man who thinks he has a call can acquire these from a puithiam on payment of a fee of a few rupees. His success in his calling appears largely to depend on luck.
There is generally one puithiam appointed by the chief, but there is no limit to the number there may be in a village. As has been said, the important Sakhua sacrifice requires the presence of a puithiam of the clan concerned, but other sacrifices can be performed by a puithiam of any clan. The services of a puithiam are not given gratis. For performing those connected with cultivation he receives a basket of rice; for other sacrifices he receives sums varying from a rupee up to ten rupees, but for some it is not customary to take payment, and the fees depend chiefly on the position of the person who has to pay them, as the puithiam, on the principle that half a loaf is better than no bread, will generally perform a sacrifice and take what he can get rather than get nothing. For the more important sacrifices, the fees, however, are always higher.
6. Ceremonies connected with child birth. The particular sacrifices to be performed in connection with a child’s birth vary considerably in different clans and families. Within seven days of the birth, the sacrifice known as the “Arte-luilam,” consisting of a cock and a hen killed just outside the house, must be made; till this is done the woman cannot go to the spring and is “sherh,” and had better not leave the house.
Should the woman not observe the custom the child will suffer in health. Three days after the birth of a child a small chicken and seven small packets of rice and vegetables are suspended under the edge of the front verandah. This is called “arte-hring-ban” or “khaw-hring-tir.” The object is to satisfy the “khawhring” (see [Chapter V, para 5]) and prevent it entering the child.
If a woman has difficulty in bringing forth, a fowl is killed and divided equally. The portion with the head is put at the upper end of the village with seven pieces of cane rolled into bundles, the other half at the lower end of the village with five rolls of cane, and the woman is given a little water to drink. This is called “arte-pum-phelna”—i.e., “to open the stomach with a fowl.”
For seven days after a child’s birth its spirit is supposed not to be quite at home in the little body and to spend some of its time perched like a bird on the parents’ bodies and clothes, and therefore, for fear of injuring it, the parents keep as quiet as possible for these seven days. If either of the parents works during these seven days and a red rash appears on the child, the illness is called “borh,” and the cure, which is called “borh keo,” is as follows:—A certain creeper called “vomhrui” is brought and coiled round and round, forming a sort of cylinder, and into this the child is dipped three times. This is done at night after the fire is out, and no fire can be lit again till morning.
Two days after the birth of a child its parents give a big drink to their friends and relatives—this is called “nau”—and seven days later another big feast is given. Some families give the name at the first feast, some at the second. The proper custom is for the “pu” to name the child, but nowadays parents generally do this.
Should several children have died young, the parents will carry the next baby and deposit it in a friend’s house, and then come and ask, “Have you a slave to sell,” and purchase it for a small sum. This is supposed to deceive the Huais. Such children’s names always begin with Suak,[4] and, judging from the frequency with which such names are met, the custom must be a very common one.
It is thought good to appoint a “pu.” The pu kills a pig and a fowl and eats it with his friends. Some of the “fep” of the fowl are tied round the child’s neck. The pu is a general protector, and he only can get the “pushum” of a girl. He also receives the “lukawng” (see Part 8). Should a woman die in childbirth, it was considered unlucky for another woman to rear the child, which was buried alive with its mother.
There are no ceremonies connected with attaining the age of puberty. A boy simply joins the young men in the zawlbuk. After this it is considered unlucky to cut the hair.
7. Marriage ceremonies. A young Lushai as a rule chooses his own bride, but the arrangements are made by the parents. The would-be bridegroom’s parents select two male friends, called “palai,” who go to the parents of the selected girl and arrange matters. If the parents are agreeable the palai go on another day with zu, and the girl’s parents brew zu. The price to be paid is fixed by custom, as before explained, but the amount to be paid down has to be settled by negotiation, and this is often a long business, the palai urging the poverty of the bridegroom’s family, while the bride’s parents try to fix the sum as high as possible. When this difficulty has been overcome the palai go again with zu, and the girl’s parents also provide zu. On that day the girl is escorted by her friends to the house of the bridegroom’s parents. This is called “Loi.” As they pass through the village all the children pelt them with dirt, but on arrival they are welcomed with brimming cups of zu, and the bridegroom says to the bride, “Oh! your cloth is dirty,” and gives her a new one. After some time the bridegroom produces a fowl, and this is killed by the puithiam, who says certain charms while doing so. This fowl is called “rem ār”—i.e., “the fowl of agreement”—and directly it is killed the bride and bridegroom pledge each other in zu. Then the bride and her young friends retire, while the rest of the party remain and have a great feast, consuming the “rem ār,” and also the fowls and zu, which the bridegroom receives from the bride’s aunt, pu, thian, and pālāl. The next day towards evening, the bridegroom’s mother or other elderly female relative goes to the bride’s house accompanied by two or three young girls, and they escort the bride to her husband’s house and hand her over to him. The young companions of the bridegroom sometimes amuse themselves by collecting a number of fowls under the house, tying she-goats up in the verandah, while the kids are tied at the far end of the village, and throw stones at the house throughout the night, so that the happy couple get but little sleep. This is called “Inngaithlak.” On the following morning the bride returns to her mother’s house, and for some time, occasionally for several weeks, the bride will spend her days at her mother’s house, only going to her husband’s after dark.
8. Funerals. Different clans have different methods of disposing of their dead. The following is the custom of all true Lusheis, whenever the means of the deceased’s family are sufficient to meet the expenses.
Directly after death the corpse is washed, the hair dressed carefully, and then the body is attached to a bamboo frame, placed in a sitting position, and adorned with fine raiment, necklaces, &c.; if the deceased was a man his gun, dao, &c., are put near him. In Lushei families the corpse is put on the floor at the head of the kumpui. In other clans it is placed against the wall on one side. If the family be rich a mithan, a pig, a dog, and a goat are killed, but at least one of these must be killed. The flesh is then cooked in anticipation of the arrival of the friends and neighbours who are invited to a funeral feast, “Rāl,” which is kept up with singing and drinking till the evening of the next day. Food and drink are offered at intervals to the corpse. The spirits of the animals killed are supposed to accompany the soul of the deceased to Mi-thi-khua. If these animals are not killed the soul of the deceased will either not reach Mi-thi-khua, or if it does will be very poorly off there. So far there is not much difference between the Lushei custom and that of other clans. The other clans, on the evening of the day after the death, bury the deceased outside the house, without any particular ceremony. The nearest male relative makes a short farewell speech wishing the deceased a pleasant journey and asking him to prepare things for those who have to follow him. With a man are buried his pipe, haversack, and flint and steel; with a woman only the two first. As regards the burying of food and drink and weapons the custom varies, but it is generally done.
The Lusheis, however, prefer not to bury their dead. The body is placed in a box made by hollowing out a log, a slab of wood is placed over the opening, and the joint plastered up with mud. This rough sort of coffin is placed in the deceased’s house near to the wall. A bamboo tube is passed up through the floor and through a hole in the bottom of the coffin and into the stomach of the corpse. The other end is buried in the ground. A special hearth is made close to the coffin and a fire is kept burning day and night on this for three months, and during the whole of this time the widow of the deceased, if he leaves one, must sit alongside the coffin, over which are hung any valuables owned by the deceased. About six weeks after placing the corpse in the coffin, the latter is opened to see if the destruction of the corpse is proceeding properly, and if necessary the coffin is turned round so as to present the other side to the fire. The opening of the coffin is celebrated by the killing of a pig and the usual drink, and is known either as “en-lawk” or looking, examining.
When it is thought that everything but the bones has been destroyed, the coffin is opened and the bones removed. The skull and the larger bones are removed and kept in a basket, which is placed on a special shelf opposite the hearth. The remainder of the bones are collected and buried generally in an earthenware pot.
On the occasion of the final opening of the coffin—“khuang pai,” “throwing away coffin”—it is customary for chiefs to kill a mithan; lesser people are content with the usual drink. Few Lusheis, except chiefs, can afford the expense incurred in this method of disposing of their dead, and in such cases the body is simply buried. It is customary for relations and friends of the deceased to send animals to be killed in his honour, and the spirits of these are supposed to belong to the spirit of the deceased in the Mi-thi-khua.
The skulls of all animals killed on such occasions are placed on poles round the grave if the body has been buried. If the body has not been buried, the heads will be placed on poles round the “lung dawh,” or platform erected in memory of the deceased. These “lung dawh,” in most cases, are merely a rough platform of logs placed beside the road just outside the village, but in the case of chiefs and of men who have killed men in war, the platform is built of stones. A big upright stone is placed in the centre, and on this various figures are roughly outlined, representing the deceased and sometimes his wife and children and the various animals he has killed. An indiarubber-tree is very often planted by a chief’s grave. Sometimes a person who either has no near relatives, or who mistrusts those he or she has, will get the young men of the village to build the lung dawh during his or her lifetime.
An aged couple with no relatives expended all they had on a feast to the young men who brought and set up a big stone. The old people were carried in sitting on the stone and cheerfully superintended the feast, and a month later peacefully departed this life.[5]
Hlamzuih.—If the first child in a family dies shortly after birth, it is buried without any ceremony under the house, and it is called “hlamzuih” (hlam = after birth, zuih = to follow). Should other children subsequently die, however young they be, they will be honoured with a complete funeral. It will be remembered that the hlamzuih are exempt from being shot by Pupawla. (See above, page 62).
Lukawng.—On a person’s death a sum, varying from Rs. 2/- to Rs. 20/- according to family custom, has to be paid by his heir to the pu of the deceased (see para. 6). A chief generally claims the “lukawng” of all his boi.
Sār-thi.—Deaths from accidents, in childbirth, or those caused by wild animals, or in war are termed “sār-thi,” and the corpse must not be buried within the village; in some cases the corpse must not even be brought into the village, if the death occurred outside. Even if the corpse is brought into the village, it is often not allowed into a house, but deposited in the forge. In such cases no lukawng can be demanded. Should the injured person survive for any considerable time, the death will not be called sār-thi unless the person has been wounded by a tiger. The fact that tigers eat men is given as the reason for this. The graves of persons killed by tigers are watched by the young men of the village for several nights, lest the tigers, or their elder brothers the wild cats, should come and dig up the body.
In-thian, Thi-thin.—Three months after a death a small chicken is killed and placed with some rice on the shelf which runs along the wall. The family indulge in zu. This is apparently a sort of farewell to the soul.
9. Festivals. There are three feasts connected with the crops. They are all known as “Kut.” The first is called “Chāp-chār-kut”; it is the most important of the three, and is held after the jhums are burnt, about the time of sowing, and is never omitted. It lasts three or four days. On the first day a pig is killed by each householder who can afford it and zu is drunk. On the second day, about 4 p.m., the whole population gathers in the open space in the village, dressed in its best. Everyone brings platters of rice, eggs, and flesh, and tries to force the food down the throats of their friends. After dark the young men and girls collect in houses of well-to-do people with several daughters and dance “Chai” till daylight.
The Chai consists in all the young men sitting with their backs to the walls, each with a girl sitting between his knees with her back to him. Individual performers dance in the middle, the remainder singing and clapping hands. On the third day the young men and girls collect in the centre of the village and form a circle, every girl being between two youths, whose arms cross over her neck, holding in their hands cloths which hang down behind like a curtain. Inside the circle is a drummer or gong-beater, who chants continuously, the young people taking up the refrain, and treading a slow measure in time with the song, while cups of zu are brought to them in rotation. Fourth day, “Zuting-ni.” The performance is repeated again if the liquor holds out.
In villages where there are many Rālte,[6] they kill their pigs the next day after the Lusheis and the other ceremonies are postponed one day.
Mim-kut.—Named after the maize, as it takes place when the crop ripens. It is of but little importance and seems likely to die out. Cakes of Job’s tears are eaten and the next day is “hrilh.”
Pawl-kut.—Held at harvest time. Fowls are killed and children, dressed in their finest clothes, are fed with the flesh mixed with rice and eggs. The next day is “hrilh.”
The correct performance of the Chāp-chār-kut is thought to go far towards insuring a good crop for the year.
Thang-chhuah Feasts.—The feasts which an aspirant for the honours of Thang-chhuah must give are five in number and have to be given in the order named, as they involve considerable expenditure, but not within any specified time.
1. Chong.—The feast lasts four days, the first of which is called “In-chhia-shem-ni,” (day for repairing the house). The floor in the house is strengthened to make it safe for the large number of guests. The labourers receive a liberal allowance of zu in payment for their trouble. The second day is called “Zu-pui-ni,” from the large amount of zu that is drunk. The next day—“Rawi-ni”—two boars and a sow are killed and there is a great feast. The last day is known as “Chang-do-ni,” and on it the remains of the feast are finished up.
2. She-doi.—The feast only lasts three days. The first day is “In-chhia-shem-ni,” the second is known as “She-shun-ni” (mithan slaughter day), and a mithan is killed and eaten. The third day, known as “Sa-ru-che-u-ni,” is similar to Chong-do-ni.
3. Mi-thi-rawp-lām.—Three months before the day fixed for the feast all the young men and girls of the village start cutting firewood, for cooking the flesh of the animal to be killed. A cane is stretched along from tree to tree beside one of the main approaches to the village for some 500 yards, and against this on alternate sides are rested the billets so that they may be thoroughly dry by the time they are needed. As a reward the young people receive a he-goat and a sow, which they consume with much merry-making, the skulls being placed on posts at each end of the line of billets. This collection of wood is called “sa-thing-zār” (flesh-wood-hangout). The actual feast lasts four days, which are known by the same names as in the “Chong” and are spent in much the same way, but on the Rawi-ni, besides the slaying and eating of mithan, effigies, supposed to represent their deceased relatives, are made and attired in the finest cloths and adorned with the best necklaces. These are strapped on a square bamboo framework, in the centre of which on a tall pole is an effigy supposed to represent the progenitor of the clan. The oldest living member of the clan then comes slowly from his house, bringing with him a gourd of zu, and gives each effigy in turn a little zu, muttering a charm as he does so; he arranges his tour so as to reach his own father’s effigy last, and when he has muttered his charm and given it the zu he dashes the gourd down on the ground and, bursting into tears, rushes into his house, whence he must not emerge for a month. The effigies are then carried about the village with much shouting.
This carrying about of their effigies is supposed to be very pleasing to the spirits of the ancestors, and it is evident that the people consider that these spirits are able to influence them for good or for bad, though I have never had this view of the matter clearly explained to me. This carrying about of persons on a platform is considered an honour, and an instance of it will be found in the description of the Fa-nai. It also appears among the Aimol and Tikhup. Among the Manipuris or Meitheis the right to be carried in a “dolai,” or litter, is much valued and is the prerogative of certain officials, but is sometimes granted by the Rajah as a personal distinction. The last day of the feast resembles the same day in the Chong.
4. She-doi as before.
5. Khuang-choi.—This is the greatest feast. Wood is collected three months before, as in the Mi-thi-rawp-lām, but the collectors get a mithan and a goat as their reward. The feast lasts four days, the names being the same as in the Chong. On the Rawi-ni at least three mithan must be killed. The Khuang-choi really completes the series, and the giver can now proudly wear the Thang-chhuah cloth and have a window in his side wall, but it is considered unlucky to stop, and after some time the She-doi is performed again under the name of “Tlip,” followed in the course of a year or so by “Zānkhuān,” a four days’ feast similar to the Chong, but one or two mithan are killed. If the fortunate man’s life is prolonged he will continue repeating these two feasts alternately. A man who has twice celebrated a Khuang-choi is allowed to build a raised summer house called “zao” a short distance in front of his living house.
After slaying a mithan in any of these feasts the giver of the feast is subject to various restrictions. Till he has performed the “In-thian” ceremony, he may not leave the house nor talk to anyone from another village. In some cases his movements are not so closely restricted, but he must in no case cross running water. I am told that should he infringe these rules his Sakhua would be offended and he or his family would get ill. The “In-thian” ceremony is performed some forty or fifty days after the killing of the mithan, and consists in the sacrificing of a cock. The prohibition of conversing with strangers is generally enforced only for three or four days, but on no account must they be allowed inside the house.
The skulls of mithan killed on these occasions are placed on posts to one side of the entrance to the house of the giver of the feast, and it is the highest ambition of the Lushai to have a long line of such posts in front of his house. Each post is cut out of a tree of considerable size, which is dressed until the lower 7 or 8 feet are only some 8 or 9 inches thick. Above this the tree is roughly cut into a plank some 8 or 9 inches thick, forming an irregular quadrilateral, the lower side being a foot or so long and the upper from 2 to 3 feet, while one side may be 18 inches and the other 2 feet or a little more; at each of the upper corners there is a perpendicular projection some 12 inches long terminating in a spike, a short distance below which a ring of wood is left. The skull is placed on the higher spike, while on the lower an egg is affixed by a thin peg of fir wood. This use of fir may be a survival of the time when the clan lived east of the Tyao, where fir forests are still found.
Posts are erected on similar occasions by many of the Kuki-Lushai clans. Among the Khawtlang the quadrilateral portion is only two or three feet from the ground, while the projections are far longer. Among the Vuite the custom is to put a thin straight post slightly carved on one side of the house and to plant a number of branches in a clump on the other. The Tangkhul Nagas, to commemorate the slaying of cattle, plant lines of dead trees in front of their houses.
The method of killing the mithan at these feasts is strictly laid down. After the puithiam has said a prayer, the giver of the feast stabs the animal behind the shoulder in the region of the heart, but only sufficient to draw blood. The poor beast is then despatched by other men with sharp bamboos or clubs; it must on no account be shot.
Chief’s House Showing “She Lu Pun,” the Posts Supporting the Skulls of Mithan Killed at One of the Feasts.
Buh-ai.—This is a feast given by a wealthy person who has had an exceptionally good harvest. It is not one of the feasts which a would-be Thangchhuah has to give, nor is there any idea of obtaining advantage in the next world, as there is in the Ai ceremonies performed after the killing of animals or men, but it is a thank-offering for a good harvest. It is not worth performing Ai for a crop of less than 100 baskets. An old red cock and a pig are killed and much zu prepared.
There is a special pot of zu prepared on the platform in front of the house of which no one who has not performed the Buh-ai can drink, for others to drink of it is “thianglo.” The person who gave the last Buh-ai feast is entitled to the first drink at this zu, which is called the “Buhza-zu” (the 100 baskets of rice zu). There is ordinary zu for the others to drink, and if it is not all finished the first day the guests return on the morrow.
The flesh of the animals killed is eaten by the guests. At night the girls and lads dance the Chai, as in the Chāp-chār-kut. To give such a feast reflects great glory on the giver and improves his standing in the village.
The Buh-ai is celebrated by nearly all the Lushai-Kuki clans and in some replaces the Thangchhuah feasts. Full particulars will be found in Part II.
[1] Vide p. 99 of Colonel P. R. Gurdon’s Monograph on the Khasi People. [↑]
[2] Compare Major Playfair’s The Garos, page 114, where the word “marang” is said to have the meaning of “unlucky” and “unlawful.” [↑]
[3] For a somewhat similar instance of trying to ward off cholera, vide Khasi Monograph, p. 35.—P. R. G. [↑]
[4] “Suak” or “Suok” in most old Kuki dialects and in Thado means a slave. [↑]
[5] Can the fear of his heirs neglecting to put up a memorial stone have originated the “stone hauling” customs so distinctive of Maram and Angami Nagas? [↑]
[6] The Rālte clan is described in Part II, Chap. II. [↑]
CHAPTER V
FOLK-LORE
1. Legends. There are many tales common to all the Kuki-Lushai clans, though the names under which the various personages figure in them are not always the same. A numerous class of legends deals with the creation of the world and the first appearance of mankind thereon and other natural phenomena; another class accounts for the names of hills and rivers; a third class reminds one of Uncle Remus’s tales of the doings of Brer Rabbit; but there are also a great many which are simply tales and which are generally a trifle obscene. The following are instances of the first class:—
Chhura is said to have shaped the world, beating it out flat with his mallet. There are many tales connected with Chhura some of which will be found further on. The following translation gives a Lushai’s idea of an eclipse of the sun or moon:—
“Formerly the Hauhul chief swallowed the moon, having been changed during his dream into an awk, and many people were watching and said, ‘The awk is swallowing the moon.’ Then he awoke and his mouth was bleeding. A year later he died and his ghost was turned into an awk and went up into the sky, and the moon was full and big, and the ghost, which had been changed into an awk, could not swallow the moon, but the next day the moon was smaller and he swallowed it. Thus men knew for the first time that there was an awk.”
When an eclipse occurs there is much excitement and beating of drums, &c. This is to frighten the awk, for the Lushais believe that once the awk swallowed the sun so effectually that general darkness prevailed. This awful time is called “Thimzing”—i.e., the gathering of the darkness—and many awful things happened. Everything except the skulls of animals killed in the chase became alive, dry wood revived, even stones became alive and produced leaves, and so men had nothing to burn. The successful hunters who had accumulated large stocks of the trophies of their skill were able to keep alive using them as fuel, and some of their descendants still survive among the Thados, under which heading they will be found in Part II. As it was pitch dark, neither animals nor men could see at all, and tigers went about biting wildly at trees, stones, and people. A general transformation took place, men being all changed into animals. Those who were going merrily to the jhum were changed into “satbhai” (laughing thrushes), as can be known by their white heads, which represent the turbans worn by the men, and their cheery chatterings. People wearing striped cloths became tigers, the chiefs of those days being represented by the hornbills of to-day, whose bills represent the bamboo rods for stirring rice while cooking; but another version is that the chiefs became king-crows, whose long tail-feathers the chiefs value much and wear as plumes. The black hands of the gibbon prove clearly that his ancestors were dyeing thread when the Thimzing occurred. Another version ascribes the same origin to the crows. Similarly those who were carrying torches finding their way down stream beds were changed into fireflies. The Chongthu family are sometimes said to have been turned into monkeys, the Vangchhia into elephants; but another version says the elephants were old women who were wearing their “puanpui”—i.e., cotton quilts—with the tufts of cotton outside. Wrestlers were suddenly transformed into bears, who to this day grapple with their foes.
The Paihte or Vuite clan became a species of squirrel, while the Rālte’s ancestor was just saying, “Vaibel kan chep te ang nge?” “Shall we suck our pipes?” and was therefore changed into a sort of squirrel called “chepchepa,” from the sound it is always making.
The domestic animals were changed into wild ones, but a number of large boulders in the Van-laiphai are said to represent Chhura’s mithan which were grazing there at the Thimzing. After this terrible catastrophe the world was again repeopled by men and women issuing from a hole in the earth called the “Chhinglung,” which appeared to me to be a disused “cache” in which some long forgotten chief used to hide his valuables on the approach of danger. Mithan reappeared from gourd seeds, as is shown by their bellow “um mu”—i.e., gourd seed. Pigs issued from the Rih-lake, wherefore they come to their food when called “rih rih.” Fowls were re-created from the mud, so to this day they answer to the call “chirih chirih,” i.e., “chir mud.”
It is not quite clear how, if representatives of the different clans were changed into various animals, these same clans again issued from the Chhinglung, but our own legends are not always quite easy to follow.
The following is a translation of a Lushai account of the repeopling of the world and of a feast which is said to have taken place soon after:—
“The place whence all people sprang is called Chhinglung. All the clans came out of that place. Then two Rālte came out together, and began at once chattering, and this made Pathian think there were too many men, and so he shut down the stone. After a short time Thlāndropa was going to hold a Khuangchoi, and told them to call together all the people of the world, and when this had been done he held his Khuangchoi. They said to the sun, ‘Do not shine, because we want our leader the Sā-huai (Loris) to lead us in the dance,’ and the sun said, ‘All right.’ At that time the Sā-huai and all the animals could talk, and the bamboo rat was beating the drum, and they all danced, and in the middle of their fun the sun said, ‘Oh, how I do want to look,’ and shone out, and all the animals got hot, and could not dance any more, so the Sā-huai got angry and quarrelled with the sun, and won’t even look at it nowadays. There was a great feast of flesh, but the owl got no meat, so he got angry, and went and sat on the bough of a tree, and Zuhrei, the big rat, chaffed him and said, ‘Buka has eaten his fill.’ Then the owl being still hungry, got angry and bit Zuhrei. Since that day they have been at war, and if the owl sees Zuhrei he assuredly bites him.” The point of the allusion to the Rālte is that this clan is famed throughout the Hills for the loquacity of its members.
Another story connected with this feast is that Thlāndropa gave a number of presents: to the ancestor of the Poi or Chin tribes he gave a fighting dao, while the ancestor of the Lushais only received a cloth, which is the reason that the Poi tribes are braver than the Lushais. On my asking what the ancestor of the white man had received, I was told he had received the knowledge of reading and writing—a curious instance of the pen being considered mightier than the sword.
Thlāndropa appears to have been a great person in his day, for he is supposed to have received Khuavang’s daughter in marriage, giving in exchange a gun, the report of which we call thunder. This legend puts Khuavang on a par with Pathian, and supports the theory that the differentiation is of comparatively recent growth.
There is a legend that the king of the Water Huai fell in love with Ngai-ti (loved one) and, as she rejected his addresses and ran away, he pursued her and surrounded the whole human race on the top of a hill called Phun-lu-buk, said to be far away to the north-east. As the water kept on rising, to save themselves the people threw Ngai-ti into the flood, which thereupon receded. It was the running off of this water which cut up the surface of the world, which Chhura had levelled, into the deep valleys and high hill ranges of which the whole world as known to the ancestors of the Lushais consisted.
As a sample of the second class of tale, the following story regarding the origin of the Tui-chong river, which joins the Kurnaphuli, near Demagri, may be taken:—
Nine miles from Demagri, on the Lungleh road, the traveller has to cross the Tui-chong river, one of the largest tributaries of the Kurnaphuli, on which Chittagong stands. This river, according to the Lushais, owes its origin to the self-denial of a girl called Tui-chongi, who, with her little sister Nuengi, was walking on the hills whence the river rises. It was April, and the sun blazed down on them. Nuengi began to cry for water. “How can I get you water on the top of a hill? Don’t you know that all the springs are dry, for are not the jhums ready to be burnt?” “Water, water, or I shall die,” wailed Nuengi. “Would you rather have water than me?” asked Tui-chongi. “If I don’t get water, I shall die, and then of what use would you be to me?” replied the spoilt child. So Tui-chongi, to satisfy her youngest sister’s thirst, changed herself into a river, and Nuengi drank and was satisfied. But the water flowed down among the hills and burst its way into the country of the Bengalis. The king of the Bengalis was astonished to see so mighty a river flowing past his palace, and sent some of his people to find out whence it came. They journeyed many days, till at length they reached the source of the stream, and there sat Nuengi, who, now that her thirst was satisfied, would gladly have had her sister back again to show her the way home. The explorers were astonished to find so beautiful a maiden sitting thus in the middle of the jungle, and decided that it would be wise to take her back to their master, who liked pretty girls. So Nuengi was added to the harem of the king of Chittagong, and in time became the mother of a most lovely boy. The king’s chief wife, on seeing the child, thought to herself, “If my lord sees this jungle woman’s brat, he will assuredly love her more than me who am childless.” So she had the child thrown into the river, which flowed under the palace windows, and frightened Nuengi into keeping silence on the matter. Tui-chongi, however, in spite of the change in her circumstances, remembered her little sister, and cherished the child so that he grew and throve. In the same way six more children were born and thrown into Tui-chongi’s fostering arms. When they were grown up Tui-chongi told them the circumstances of their birth, and sent them to dance on the roof of their father’s palace, who, hearing the noise, came out to see the cause of the disturbance. When he saw seven handsome young men he was much astonished, and asked them who they were. “We are your sons,” they replied. “Why do you lie to me?” said the king; “liars have short lives in my kingdom.” “Nay, O king, we lie not; we are Nuengi’s sons”; and they told him their story. So the king smote off the head of the bad queen, and installed Nuengi in her place.
Of the third class the following are good examples, and admirers of Uncle Remus will be reminded of the doings of “Brer Rabbit and the other animals.”
The Tale of Granddaddy Bear and the Monkey.
The Monkey made a swing and was always swinging in it. One day Granddaddy Bear saw him and said, “Oh, Monkey, let me have a swing.” The Monkey replied, “Wait a minute till I have hung it more securely.” Then he climbed up and bit the cane nearly through and jumped down again crying out, “Come on, Granddaddy Bear, have a swing.” The bear got in and swung, the cane broke, and he fell down. The Monkey, intending to eat him, had gone and fetched some cooked rice (to eat with the bear’s flesh). But though Granddaddy Bear fell down he was not killed. The Monkey, being terribly afraid, said, “Oh, Granddaddy Bear, hearing you had fallen I brought some rice for you,” and gave him all he had brought.
The Bear’s Water Hole.
The Bear made a dam to collect water, and put the Monkey to watch it. Every sort of animal came crying, “I am dry. Who has water which he does not want? I am dry.” The Monkey always said, “The water belongs to Granddaddy Bear. If you dare to drink, drink; if you dare to suck, suck it up.” Then the Tiger came along, saying, “I am dry. Who has water which he does not want? I am dry.” The Monkey replied, “It is my Granddaddy Bear’s water. If you dare to drink, drink; if you dare to suck, suck it up.” The Tiger drank it all; he sucked the place dry. Then the Monkey went to the Bear and said, “Oh, Granddaddy Bear, the Tiger has drunk your water!” So the Bear rushed up and began to fight with the Tiger. They fought a long time and both died, and the Monkey took their bones. “Whose ever bones will sound, whether my Granddaddy the Tiger’s or Granddaddy the Bear’s,” he said, and so, taking the bones which would sound, he made a rotchem (see [Chapter II, para. 6]) out of them and he sat in the fork of a tree and played on it. The Quail, hearing the sound, came up. “Hallo, Monkey! let me play for a bit,” he said. “Oh, ho!” said the Monkey, “you will fly off with the rotchem.” “If you fear that,” said the Quail, “hold me by the tail.” So the Monkey held him tight by the tail, and off he flew, but the Monkey pulled his tail clean out. Then the Quail came and begged for his tail, saying, “Do give me back my tail.” But the Monkey replied, “You can ransom it by paying eight mithan.” “Oh,” said the Quail, “if I have to pay eight mithan for it, I’ll just remain tailless,” and flew away.
The following tale is interesting as showing the great prestige the Tipperah chief enjoyed among the Lushais, who call him “Rengpui.” There are many versions of this tale, some of which are very long. I have been obliged to abridge it considerably.
Rimenhoiyi married Zawlthlia. Their house was of iron. They had an eight-fold iron door. They beautified the inside with iron and brass things. They also had a window (i.e., Zawlthlia was Thangchhuah[1]) and a platform to sit on—in fact they wanted for nothing.
Rimenhoiyi planted flowers, but there was one flower she had not, called “nipuipar” (bright sun flower—a creeper with scarlet flowers). When her husband was about to go in search of it he said to her, “Please don’t go outside the house,” and having filled the brass vessels with enough water to last her many days, he went off. However, the supply ran short and the lady went to the stream to wash, and one of her hairs was carried down and swallowed by a fish, which was caught by the cook of the king near the mouth of the river; and from out of the fish the cook pulled this immensely long hair, and it filled a winnowing basket. The king sent for the owner of the hair, and after many episodes she was brought to him. Zawlthlia returning found his wife gone, but with the help of the domestic animals he traced her, and, on arriving at the foreign king’s village he saw slaves fetching water; and, ascertaining that it was for the new queen, he put one of the nipuipar into the vessel, so Rimenhoiyi knew he had arrived. According to one version, they resorted to the same subterfuge that Abraham and Sarah employed when entering Egypt and lived happily till, the king’s suspicion being aroused, Zawlthlia was summarily slain. According to another, Rimenhoiyi married them both, but as she showed a preference for Zawlthlia the king killed him.
With the help of a wise woman learned in charms Zawlthlia was brought to life in a more beautiful form, and the king was so struck by the improvement in his appearance that he asked to be allowed to undergo the same treatment, and was duly killed, but, unfortunately for him, was by some accident restored to life in the shape of a dog; but in this shape he seems to have found more favour in the fickle fair one’s eyes, and a child called Uithovi was born, who, being very poor, begged for some land of Zawlthlia, who had become king of the Tipperahs, and was told to take as much as a buffalo hide measured. By cutting the hide into a very thin strip he was able to measure a considerable area of ground, but, not content with this, he voyaged far till he reached the place where money was to be found, and he became very prosperous. “Nevertheless it was said that to the present day Kumpinu (the Company’s Mother—i.e., the late Queen), who is a descendant of Uithovi’s, cannot get the better of Rengpui (the Rajah of Tipperah). If the Sahibs fight against Rengpui, all their crops fail, and much sickness occurs among them. Pathian once threw down a cannon from the sky, and a great number of Kumpinu’s sepoys tried to move it, but could not, while a few of Rengpui’s men were able to drag it away.”
Chhura is represented as a man of immense strength and stature, of an easy-going disposition, but not much blessed with brains. Thus one story tells of how, being on a visit, he was regaled with a crab stew, which he had not tasted before, and liked greatly. He inquired of what animal it was made. On his way home he forgot the name and commenced searching. Someone seeing him looking about asked what he had lost. “Stupid,” replied Chhura; “if I knew, would I be looking?” The passer-by remarked that he smelt strongly of crab. “That’s it! That’s what I was searching for,” cried Chhura much pleased, and went on his way. His mallet head, a roughly dressed cylinder of stone, about 30 inches long and 18 in diameter, is pointed out to the curious, lying beside the path between Leng and Lingvum, where it is said to have fallen when it flew off the handle while Chhura was flattening the earth in the Vān-lai-phai valley some five miles away. A large spherical stone in the same neighbourhood is pointed out as one of the pellets shot from his pellet bow when he was at Thenzawl, many miles distant.
There are many tales of this hero, who is especially honoured by the Khawtlang.
Mualsavata is another mythical hero of immense stature. The smoke from his pipe was like that of a jhum burning. His whetstone, some 18 inches long, lies beside the road near Chongthleng, where it fell from his haversack, which his wife had neglected to mend.
I have given so many tales in other parts of the monograph that I shall only add one more here.
The Tale of Him who Demanded His Sister’s Price.
He went to the west to demand his sister’s price. The debtor gave him a bamboo stirring rod. If you stirred an empty pot with this rod it was at once filled with rice. He returned towards his village. On the way he stayed the night in the house of a widow, and placed his stirring rod on the shelf over the hearth saying, “Granny, please don’t stir your pot with my stirring rod.” “All right,” said she, but, while he was walking about the village, she stirred her pot just to see what sort of a stirring rod it was, and, behold, her pot was full of rice. “It is a very good stirring rod,” she said; “I will just exchange mine for it”—which she did secretly. And the owner of the magic rod went on to his village, and on arrival there he called to his children, “Set the water boiling to cook the rice.” His children replied, “We have nothing to cook. What is the use of boiling water alone?” “I have got rice, I’ve got rice,” he said. So they boiled the water, and he stirred it hard with his rod, but nothing came. “If we stir more it will come,” he said, but nevertheless nothing came.
Then he went off to demand the price from the debtor again, who gave him a goat which passed nothing but amber and cornelian beads, and said, “Take it carefully home.” “All right,” said he. He stayed the night at the same widow’s house, and when he was going out to stroll through the village he said, “Granny, you will be careful not to kick my goat on the rump, won’t you?” “All right,” said she, but directly he was out of sight she kicked the goat and he passed many beads. “It is a good goat,” she said, and secretly substituted her own goat for it. Her guest went off and directly he reached his house he called out, “Prepare strings for necklaces. Prepare strings for necklaces.” His children replied, “Father, we have nothing to put on the strings. What is the good of the strings alone?” “I have got beads, I have got beads,” he cried. So they prepared a winnowing basket full of threads. Then he gave the goat several good kicks on the rump, but it only passed filth and bleated loudly.
Then he went again to demand payment and was given a mallet and a piece of cane. “The name of this piece of cane is ‘Ramdia,’” they said. He set off for home and again stayed in the same old woman’s house and put Ramdia and his mallet down among the firewood, and as he started for his stroll he said, “Granny, don’t touch this cane, will you? It is called Ramdia—and you won’t touch the mallet either, will you?” “All right,” she said, but no sooner was he gone than, saying, “They are valuable things,” she touched them both. The cane wound round and round her and the mallet began to beat her. She was in terrible trouble and shouted to her neighbours; wherever she went the mallet beat her and beat her till she died.
2. Superstitions. The Lushais are an extremely superstitious race; any unusual occurrence is considered as portending some evil results. The meaning of the word “thianglo” has been already explained in [Chapter IV, para. 4]. Certain acts, dreams, or sights are universally considered “thianglo,” or unlucky, but should a Lushai see any unusual sight or hear an unusual sound he would at once consider that some misfortune was imminent and take advice from the puithiam as to how it could be avoided. The following are some of the superstitions connected with cultivation.
It is “thianglo” to find, in the proposed jhum, a gibbon’s skull stuck on a tree stump. If in burning the jhum the flames make a peculiar huk-huk sound; if the khatchhat (nightjar) calls by day, the jhum had better be abandoned. Should the jhum cutter after his first day’s work dream of water or rice all will be well, but should he dream of a mithan chasing him or tigers springing on him, he must not continue cutting the jhum, or he will certainly get very ill and probably will die. If on the site of the proposed jhum a “thing-lu-bul” is found, death will certainly claim the cultivator should he persist in jhuming anywhere near the unlucky object, which is a kind of abortive tree growth without boughs or shoots, but covered with bulbous excrescences, which sometimes remotely resemble the human form, and if cut exude a blood-red juice. Should a tree have a pendant protuberance, called “thingzang,” the jungle near must not be cut. The rubbing together of two tree boughs is thought to denote the presence of a Huai, who must be appeased by the sacrifice of a cock and hen, the sherh being hung under the jhum house with some chips of the tree. Brackish springs, known as “sa-khi-shi” (barking deer springs), are supposed to be the abodes of Huai, who are generally satisfied with the sacrifice of a fowl, the sherh being hung in a basket over the spring, but if the Huai be greedy the jhumer will fall ill, and then a pig and a dog must be sacrificed in the same manner.
The following are some of the superstitions about animals:—
A Lushai named Kela visited Aijal; on the road he met a rat, which stood up in the middle of the road and held its paws to its head. “What a curious rat!” he said. Two days after he reached his home he died. To see such a rat is certainly “thianglo.” This incident happened a short time ago; no one had ever heard of such a rat having been seen before, and the unusualness of the occurrence, coupled with the death of Kela, was, to the Lushais, proof positive of its being the cause of his death. The Lushais tell me that sometimes a muskrat will be followed by her whole family, each holding in its mouth the tail of the one in front; this they call “In tir mei kai,” and whoever sees it will certainly die. Should a bear on being shot fall on its back, and lie with its legs in the air, the shooter will die. If a bird enters the house prompt measures have to be taken to avert misfortune. The puithiam is called and the bird captured. The house is festooned within with the leaves of a certain tree, and the bird is thrown out of the house by the puithiam, who, muttering various charms, advises it to take itself off and carry its witchcraft with it. I came across, in an old number of the Outlook, a translation of a Chinese poem said to be dated about 100 B.C. in which the following occurs:—“When a wild bird enters a dwelling it portends that the human occupant must go forth.” The coincidence is curious.
The following translation of a Lushai’s reason for considering the sight of an atlas moth “thianglo” shows the origin of such superstitions. Atlas moths are rare in the Lushai hills. The “keptuam” (atlas moth) was the letter bearer between Pathian and the Vai (foreigner); and once when he was carrying Pathian’s letter to the Vai chief the keptuam made the letter into wings, and flew away and disappeared, and Pathian was much disturbed at the loss of his letter and at the disappearance of his messenger, and he made mankind hunt for the missing keptuam. Now the keptuam did not wish to be caught, so he said, “Whoever sees me will die”; but as mankind did not know this they hunted and hunted till at last one saw the fugitive and died, and so they learnt that to see a keptuam is “thianglo,” and ever since if anyone sees a male keptuam he will probably die.
Should the fowls at midnight become terrified and make an unusual sound like “i-ak, i-ak” someone will die. Should gibbons be heard hooting during the night, they have seen the corpse of someone who will fall from a tree or be drowned. As the gibbon retires to rest even before the sun sets, it must be very seldom that their shouts are heard at night. It is “thianglo” to shoot a gibbon, because at the Thimzing a man and a wife were changed into those animals. The woman at the time was dyeing blue thread, and therefore the palms of the hands of the female gibbon are black, though the rest of the body is light coloured.
The rhinoceros is also safe from attack on account of a similar belief, the folds of his skin being supposed to be derived from the folds of the cloths of persons who were transmogrified. The natural result of killing one of these animals is that all members of the slayer’s family sicken and die, but this can be avoided if the successful huntsman on his return to the village goes straight to the zawlbuk or forge and remains there a whole day and night, after which it is safe for him to enter his house, provided that he leaves his gun and haversack behind and has changed all his clothes.
It is, however, worth noticing that, though monkeys, elephants, tigers, bears, &c., are also said to have been men before the Thimzing, there is no reluctance shown to kill them, and in fact the chiefs wear plumes of the king crow’s feathers, and hornbills’ beaks decorate many a chief’s verandah.
When building his house the Lushai must be careful that he does not put his hearth on the side of the house next to that on which his neighbour has his. To do so is “thianglo” and illness will follow. It is not difficult to guess how this idea has arisen. Lushai houses are generally built in lines one above the other on the sides of a hill, and therefore it is more convenient to place the heavy earthen hearth on the upper side where the posts are shorter. This causes the hearths of all the houses in one row to be on the same side, and, the custom once formed, any deviation from it is considered unlucky. To dream of the auction of a “hlang”—i.e., the bamboo frame to which the corpse is strapped during the funeral feast—is unlucky, and the person seen by the dreamer to purchase it will certainly die.
The following translation of a Lushai account of “tualsumsu” is interesting:—
“There are ‘tualsumsu’ in dreams and also while people are in a trance; the latter are the worst. If two friends are sleeping and in their dreams one says to the other, ‘Go as “tualsumsu”’—i.e., ‘beating your head on the ground’—nothing will happen to the one who goes, but the man who sends him will die. If anyone goes without being told to go, and likes it, he will die, but if he says, ‘Oh, how it hurts my head!’ he will not die. Sometimes a person will go beating his head on the ground and when roused from the trance know nothing of it.”
The following is another curious belief:—
“If a man dreams that with his friend they are going to fly like ‘Chawifa,’ and they, both carrying burning maize cobs wrapped in old cloths in baskets, intend flying from inside the house, and having come outside, his friend flies away, while he himself stands on the end of the roof and cannot fly, his friend who flew away will die quickly, while he who could not fly will live. And he that flew away knew nothing of it, and the corn cobs wrapped in old cloth were thrown up, and the people saw them blazing like fire. This is extremely ‘thianglo.’”
The Lushais speak confidently of “Chawifa,” and many say they have seen it. They describe it as a kind of meteor, which flies through the village blazing brightly, and if it alights on a house the owner must die. Compare the Lakher idea of “Chawifa,” given in Part II., and the Manipuri “Sangaisel,” in Mr. Hodson’s book on the Meitheis, page 121.
3. Snake worship. The Lushais do not worship snakes, but there are many tales of “rulpui” (the big snake). Colonel Lewin in his “Progressive Exercises” has written as follows:—
“Throughout the Lushai Hills, among all the tribes with whom I have come in contact, whether ‘Toung-tha’ or ‘Khyoung-tha,’ sons of the hill or sons of the river, I have always found that special attributes have been assigned to a certain description of snake or serpent that is found in these forests. I remember once we were camped peacefully beside the border of a small hill stream; the shanties of leaves and grass which form our tentes d’abri in this part of the world had been erected, and all the world (our world some 30 persons) was either smoking the pipe of peace or stirring the pot of rice that was to form the evening meal. Suddenly there arose a shout of ‘Tchubba-gree! Tchubba-gree!’ which is the Hill Arracanese for ‘the big snake, the king-serpent.’ Behold the camp in a ferment, each stalwart young fellow seizing his dao and tightening his waistband. We went forth, and indeed the snake was very big. His long sinuous growth was at least 20 feet in length and bulky in proportion; he moved slowly along, taking apparently no notice of the turmoil and confusion that soon filled the wood around him. The Hillmen swarmed around his length like ants, and in a few moments he was cut in pieces by dao strokes. I noticed that each of my combatants as they ran up to the snake spat at him before striking. On inquiring the reasons of this, I was informed that in attacking a snake of this description, if he spat at you first before you struck him, your fate was sealed, and strangulation was your doom; but if you were speedy in salivation and forestalled his action, then he was delivered a prey into the hands of his assailants. A similar superstition formerly attached to the basilisk or cockatrice, which was said to be able to fascinate or cause the destruction of man or beast if it first perceived its victim before it was itself perceived. Sir Thomas Browne, in discoursing ‘Of the Basilisk,’ says ‘that veneration shooteth from the eye, and that this way a basilisk may empoison, is not a thing impossible; but that this destruction should be the effect of the first beholder or depend on priority of aspection is a point not easily to be granted.’ The flesh of this snake (which is a species of python) is eaten by the Hill folk, and the fat of the reptile is held to be a sovereign cure for all cuts and wounds, as well as for more obscure diseases. In the household tales and fireside stories of the people ‘the big snake’ holds a prominent place, and is vested with attributes of power and knowledge.”
Colonel McCulloch, in his account of the Valley of Manipur, 1859, page 32, mentions the belief of the Manipuris in a snake god, and in fact the royal family is supposed to have sprung from a snake god known as “Pakhangba.” Colonel McCulloch also relates that a Kuki—i.e., a Thado—who had left him in perfect health, “saw a black snake as large as his thigh, which uttered a sound like that of an ox bellowing.” “On his reaching his home he became ill, his belly swelled, and he has not recovered his health.” Compare this with the following translation of a statement made to me by Hrangzova, a Lushai political Chaprassie, in 1904:—
“When I lived at Thenzawl, I once saw a curious object about 18 inches long, and about 6 inches thick, like a snake, which kept standing up on its stumpy tail, and then falling forward. I called my friend, who also saw it. When I got home I told my father and mother, who were very frightened, and said it was ‘thianglo.’ They both died within the year. This was 12 years ago. The rulpui which I saw had not got feathers, but perhaps that was because it was not big enough, as I am told the real rulpui has feathers like that of a cock.”
There are various places named after rulpui. On one hill the body of a large snake is said to have been raised up on a pole, and so big was it that its shadow fell on a hill many miles away, called thereafter “Rulpui-thlin”—i.e., Rulpui’s Shadow. The following is the translation of the story of the origin of “rulpui.”
Chhawng-chili and the Rulpui.
Once upon a time there was a girl called Chhawng-chili, who was in her father’s jhum. At the bottom of the jhum in a hollow tree a snake had its nest, and the snake loved Chhawng-chili very much. Whenever they went to the jhum she used to send her younger sister to call the snake, who used to come up and coil itself up in Chhawng-chili’s lap. The little sister was very much afraid of the snake and did not dare tell her father. When the girls were going to the jhum, their parents always used to wrap up some rice and vegetables for them to take with them. On account of her fear of the snake, the little sister could not eat anything. Then her sister and the snake ate up all the rice and the vegetables, and the little sister stayed in the jhum house all day and got very thin, and her parents said to her, “Oh, little one, why are you getting so thin?” but she always said, “Oh, father, I can’t tell you”; but her parents pressed her to tell them, and at last she said, “My sister and the snake make love always; as soon as we get to the jhum she says to me, ‘Call him to me,’ and I call him, and he comes up and coils himself up on her lap, and I am so frightened that I cannot eat anything, and that is why I am so thin.” So they kept Chhawng-chili at home, and her father and younger sister went to the jhum, and her father dressed himself up to resemble Chhawng-chili, but he put his dao by his side; then the little sister called the snake, who came up quickly and curled itself up in her father’s lap, and he with one blow cut it in two, and then they returned to the village. On the next day Chhawng-chili and her sister went to the jhum and her little sister called the snake, but her father had killed it. So they came back to their house, and found their father lying on the floor just inside the door sill. Chhawng-chili said, “Get up, father, I want to scrape the mud off my feet” (on the door sill), but her father would not move. So Chhawng-chili scraped off the mud from her feet, and stepped over the sill, and her father struck up and killed her. In her stomach there were about 100 small snakes. They killed them and killed them, but one escaped and hid under a dry patch of mithan dung, and grew up and used to eat people, and when it got bigger it wriggled into the “rulchawm kua”—i.e., “feed snake hole”—and people of all villages used to feed it. After a time it was not content with goats and pigs, but demanded children. One day a Chin who was travelling noticed his host and hostess weeping, and on asking the reason was told it was the day for giving a child to the snake. “I will kill the snake,” he replied, and, being provided with a goat, he slew it, and wrapped its flesh round his dao and forearm and offered it to the rulpui. When his forearm had been swallowed, by a quick turn of his wrist he disembowelled the monster. The place where this took place is on the Aijal-Champhai road, some forty miles from Aijal. The Biate or Bete claim to have been the people who fed the snake.
If a “thingsir” (a snake of which the female is very light-coloured and the male dark) enters a house, it is very “thianglo.”
The entry of any snake into a house is looked on with suspicion, and either portends misfortune or it denotes that the sacrifice to Sakhua is urgently needed. If this sacrifice is not performed speedily death may ensue.
To see a snake with legs is “thianglo.” The Lushais believe there are such creatures. My informant says it is only nowadays that this is “thianglo,” inferring that formerly such creatures were common and therefore attracted no attention. It is the unusualness of the thing which makes the Lushai think it “thianglo.”
4. Omens. In the section dealing with superstition the subject of omens of misfortune has been fully dealt with, and there is no need to say much more, but the following extract from “Asiatic Dissertations,” II, 1792, is interesting—it is from a description of the “Mountaineers of Tipra.”
“If at any time they see a star very near the moon they say, ‘To-night we shall undoubtedly be attacked by some enemy,’ and they pass the night under arms with extreme vigilance.”
This belief may be accounted for by the superstition that projects undertaken on such occasions are likely to succeed.
Once when starting on a night expedition to capture a rebel chief, I noticed my guide staring up intently at the moon, and he expressed great satisfaction at seeing a star quite close to its edge, and exclaimed that our expedition was now sure to succeed, which I am glad to say proved true.
5. Witchcraft. The Lushais are firm believers in witchcraft. There are several ways of bewitching your enemy. Colonel Lewin has a tale in which the wizard takes up the impression of a person’s foot in the mud and puts it to dry over the hearth, thereby causing the owner to waste away. Clay figures into which bamboo spikes are thrust also figure in all cases in which a person is accused of this offence. To cut off a piece of a person’s hair and put it in a spring is certain, unless the hair is speedily removed, to cause his death. Several tragedies have occurred on account of the belief in witchcraft. In 1897 three whole families were massacred because it was thought that they were bewitching a very aged chieftainess. The livers of the wizards were cut out and portions carried to the sufferer, but unfortunately she died before being able to taste them and thus prove the efficacy of the remedy. So strong was the feeling about these wizards that four or five households of their relatives had to be given a special and isolated site, as no village would receive them.
The following translation of a Lushai’s account of how mankind first learned the black art is specially interesting, as it introduces Lalruanga and Keichalla, who are the heroes of many of the oldest of the Lushai tales. Colonel Lewin gives some excellent stories in his “Progressive Colloquial Exercises.” Keichalla is the man who can become a tiger at will, and appears in many tales:—
“Dawi witchcraft was known to Pathian. Vahrika also was something like Pathian. Vahrika had a separate water supply, and Pathian’s daughter was always disturbing it. Vahrika said, ‘What can it be?’ and lay in ambush. Pathian’s daughter came, and he caught her and was going to kill her, but she said, ‘Don’t kill me; I will teach you magic.’ So she taught him, and Vahrika taught it all to Keichalla, Lalruanga, and Hrang-sai-puia. Then Lalruanga went to court Zangkāki, and Zangkāki, who was a friend of Pathian’s daughter, bewitched Lalruanga, who had forgotten his “dawi bur” (magic gourd), and he said to Chaichim (the mouse), ‘Go and fetch my dawi bur which I put in my basket.’ So the mouse went to fetch the dawi bur and got it, but the Tuiruang (Barak) river rose very high. The mouse took the dawi bur in his mouth and started to swim over the river. The dawi bur was washed away by the river till it stuck in the fish trap of the Thlangom tribe, who said, ‘What is this?’ The dawi bur was singing like anything. The Thlangoms broke it open. No sooner had they opened it than they each acquired knowledge of magic. Then the Thlangoms were chanting the magic song. Some Mizo (natives of these Hills) who were passing through the village also heard the song of those who knew magic. The Mizo saw a man eating rice. ‘May you be bewitched!’ they said. They bewitched him in his rice eating, and for a year after whenever he ate cooked rice it changed into dry uncooked rice, and it swelled inside him till his stomach could not hold it and he died. Thus the Mizo learnt about magic. Nowadays also there is magic, but those who know it won’t teach it without payment.”
The Lushais maintain that the tribes to the north of them, such as Paihte, Bete, &c., are very proficient at witchcraft, while the Chins consider the Lushais such experts at the craft that when Captain Hall, 2nd Gurkhas, and I forced our way from the west through the then unexplored hills and joined General Symons at Haka in 1890, the chiefs of that village besought the General not to allow any of our Lushai followers to go within sight of it, lest they should, by merely looking at it, cause fearful misfortunes. The belief in the man tiger is common through the Hills and also in Nepal. When a man-eater gave much trouble in Lungleh, our Gurkha Sepoys maintained that it was a man, one of three friends who had assumed this shape and were travelling by different shapes to a previously selected rendezvous, on reaching which they would resume their human forms.
Cane Suspension Bridge.
Photo by Major Playfair, I.A.
Khuavang zawl.—The Lushais believe that certain persons—both males and females, but more generally females—have the power of putting themselves into a trance and are in a state of communication with Khuavang. This power is called “zawl,” and a person who possesses it is called “zawlnei.” During their trances they are said to be able to elicit from Khuavang information regarding the particular sacrifice required to cure any sick person, and their information is supposed to be more reliable than the opinion of the puithiam, who bases his statements solely on the action of the pulse. The method of interrogating a zawlnei is called “thumvor,” and is as follows:—
The zawlnei being in a trance is given a shallow basket containing rice, which he or she holds in one hand while an egg is placed in the palm of the other hand. When the zawlnei reverses this hand the egg does not fall. The basket of rice is shaken backwards and forwards, and there appears among the rice the footprint of the animal which it is necessary to sacrifice to ensure the patient’s recovery. If it is impossible to trace any resemblance to any animal’s footmark the state of the patient is serious and the whole series of sacrifices are needed. Compare the description of the Maibi’s method of divination given in McCulloch’s account of the Valley of Manipur, page 21. The following two accounts of Khuavang zawl were given me by Lushais:—
Lianthangi was a Khuavang zawl. There was much sickness in the village. One night Khuavang came to her in her dreams and said, “If each house-owner will make a clay metna and place it outside his or her house the sickness will cease.” So they did this and the next day they observed as “hrilh,” and within 20 days everyone was well again.
Thang-tei-nu was a zawlnei, but concealed the fact; people used to come secretly and make her perform the thumvor, and said she knew everything. She allowed no one to drink zu in her house, and if she drank zu she always got ill and it was “thianglo” for her to perform sacrifice. Khuavang told her this in her dreams.
Khawhring.—In [Chapter IV, para. 6], the sacrifice called Khawhring Tir has been described. The belief in Khawhring is universal, and from the following translation it will be seen that the unfortunate women who were accused of being possessed by such a spirit have good reason to be grateful that the control of the country has passed into our hands. The belief is that Khawhring lives in certain women, whence it issues forth from time to time and takes possession of another woman, who, falling into a trance, speaks with the voice of the original hostess of the Khawhring. A missionary described to me a weird scene of excitement which he once saw, the object being to exorcise a Khawhring which had possessed a girl. Amid a turmoil of shouting, drum-beating, and firing of guns the spirit was ordered to quit its temporary abode and return whence it came.
Translation of a Lushai Version of the Origin of Khawhring.
“Wild boars have Khawhring. Once a man shot a wild boar while out hunting. On his return home they cooked the flesh. Some of the fat got on the hand of his sister, who rubbed her head, and the wild boar’s Khawhring just passed into her. On the next day, without any provocation, she entered another girl. She took entire possession of her. People said to her, “Where are you going to?” She replied, “It is the wild boar my brother shot.” “Well, what do you want?” they said. “If you will give me eggs I will go away,” she replied. They gave her eggs and she went. Presently all those who borrowed the “hnam” (a plaited cane band for carrying loads) of the girl with the Khawhring also got possessed. If one with a Khawhring has a daughter the child is always possessed, so no one wants to marry a person with a Khawhring. Even now, we being to some extent Lusheis, we do not like to let a person possessed by a Khawhring enter our houses, and if such a one sits on the bed of a true Lushei she will certainly be fined a metna. Those possessed of Khawhring are most disgusting people, and before the foreigners came they were always killed.”
The writer was not a true Lushei, but belonged to one of the clans which are fast being absorbed and are almost indistinguishable from Lusheis.
The Lushais say that sometimes girls walk in their sleep and go and lick up urine, as the metna do, under the zawlbuk, and that when starting forth on these expeditions their feet and hands shine as if they were coated with phosphorus. If a young man wakes a girl up while she is walking thus she is very much ashamed, and generally grants him the favours of her bed to procure his silence.
This state is called “Thlahzung.”
[1] See above as to windows, page [27]. [↑]
CHAPTER VI
LANGUAGE
I propose, in this chapter, to deal only with Lushai, and to treat of the connection between the different dialects spoken in these Hills at the end of Part II.
Lushai or Dulien, which is the dialect of the Lushei clan, modified, doubtless, by contact with those of other clans, is now the lingua franca of the whole Lushai Hills, and is understood in many parts of the adjoining districts. A very complete grammar and vocabulary has been published by Messrs. Savage and Lorrain, now of the London Baptist Mission, and therefore I only propose to give a bare outline of the language here, which is largely borrowed from the above work.
Articles.—The indefinite article can generally be rendered by the numeral one.
The definite article is sometimes represented by demonstrative pronouns or relative particles.
Gender.—Inanimate objects have no gender. In nouns gender may be shown by use of different words, as “tlangval,” a young man; “nula,” a maiden. This system is only employed when speaking of human beings, by adding suffixes—“pa” and “chal” for males, “nu” and “pui” for females; thus “fa pa,” son; “fa nu,” daughter; “she chal,” bull metna; “she pui,” cow metna. “Chal” and “pui” are restricted to full-grown animals. All men’s names end in “a,” all women’s in “i.” Some words are the same in both genders—“u,” elder brother or sister; “nao shen,” a baby; “naupang,” child. “I” is the feminine termination in Manipuri also.
Number.—The plural terminations are “te,” “ho,” and “zong”; sometimes these are combined or duplicated.
| Mi zong zong = | all mankind. |
| Lāl te ho = | chiefs. |
These terminations are omitted when the number can be otherwise inferred.
| Sākor paruk = | six horses. |
| Puan tam tak ka pe = | I gave many cloths. |
When a suffix is added to a noun to denote case, the plural suffix follows the case suffix.
Zawng-a-te Monkey into s an they lo became changa. changed.
Kan in-a-te Our house into s an they lo-lut-a. entered.
Case.—Nouns are not inflected. The agent is denoted by the suffix “in.”
| Lal in a that = | The chief killed (him). |
The same suffix is used to distinguish the instrument.
| Lal in fei in a shun = | The chief speared (him) with a spear. |
“In” is therefore exactly equivalent to “na” used in Manipuri to distinguish the agent or instrument.
The other cases can only be inferred from the position of the words.
The object immediately precedes the transitive verb governing it.
| Lal-in puan a-pe = | The chief gave a cloth. |
The indirect object precedes the direct.
| Suaka puan ka pe = | I gave a cloth to Suaka. |
Hnena (to) is sometimes used to give greater clearness.
| Lal hnena ui pakhat ka pe ang = | I will give a dog to the chief. |
The thing possessed immediately follows the possessor.
| Kawn bawl in a-kāng = | The minister’s house caught fire. |
The following construction is sometimes used:—
| Kawn bawl a in a lian e = | Minister his house it big is. |
The other cases are rendered by suffixes.
Ka My in house a in daraw. put. Ka My in a house tang from in laraw. bring. Aizawl Aijal a to kalraw. go.
Adjectives follow the words they qualify, but are not inflected in any way.
| Mipa tha = | a good man. |
| Hmaichhia thā = | a good woman. |
| Nula-te tha = | good girls. |
When a noun is used as an adjective it precedes the noun it qualifies, as, “Lung in,” stone house.
Adjectives are compared thus
Suaka Suaka Nela Nela ai- than in a he chhā k zawk. stronger.
Suaka is stronger than Nela.
When demonstrative adjectives are compared, “ai-in” is combined with them, thus:—
He This sakor horse he here saw that ai than sawn there ashang zawk. is taller.
This horse is taller than that.
“Saw saw ai-in” being replaced by “Saw-ai sawn.”
When no object of comparison is mentioned “ai-in” is omitted.
Nangma Your lo jhum azao extensive zawk. more.
Your jhum is more extensive.
The superlative is formed thus:—
Lalzong Chiefs zinga among Khuma Khuma a he vin bad tempered ber. most.
Khuma is the most bad-tempered of all the chiefs.
Khuma Khuma lalzong chiefs ai-in than a he vin ill-tempered ber. more.
Khuma Khuma lalzong chiefs a of a he vin ill-tempered ber. most.
Khuma Khuma a he vin ill-tempered ber. most.
Khuma is the most ill-tempered.
The numerals are very simple:—
| 1 | = pa khat | 5 | = pa nga | 9 | = pa kua | ||
| 2 | = pa hnih | 6 | = pa ruk | 10 | = shom | ||
| 3 | = pa thum | 7 | = pa sari | ||||
| 4 | = pa li | 8 | = pa riat |
11 = “shom leh pa khat,” 12 = “shom leh pa hnih,” and so on to 20 = “shom hnih”; then “shom hnih leh pa khat” &c., to “shom thum” = 30, “shom li” = 40, “shom nga” = 50, and so on to “za” = 100, “za leh pa khat” = 101, and so on to “shang” = 1000.
“Shing” = 10,000 and “nuai” for 1,000,000 are hardly ever used; 8,975 = “shang riat, leh za kua leh shom sari leh pa nga.”
It will be seen that the real numerals are “khat,” “hnih,” “thum,” &c., pa being equivalent to unit. It is usually omitted when animals or things are mentioned, but retained when speaking of human beings.
| Lal pa sari = | seven chiefs. |
| Sebong nga = | five cows. |
With numbers above ten the name of the thing enumerated if a monosyllable, is often repeated. Thus:—
Ni Days shom hnih twenty leh and ni days nga. five.
Ordinals are formed by adding “na” to the cardinals, thus:—
In Enter shom the na tenth lutrawh. house.
But—
Ni Day thum three ni day a on lo-kalraw. come.
| Every other day = | Ni khat dan a. |
| Every third day = | Ni hnih dan a, |
| and soon. | |
Numeral adjectives are formed thus:—
Voi Times nga, five, voi times shom ten leh and voi times khat. one,
eleven times.
Demonstrative adjectives are:—
| He or hehi |  | This = near thespeaker. | Heng, henghi = these. |
| Hei hei hi | |||
| Saw = that. | Sawng = those. | ||
| Khā = that near you. | Khāng = those near you. | ||
| Khu = that down there. | Khung = those down there. | ||
| Khi = that up there. | Khing = those up there. | ||
| Chu = that. | Chung = those. | ||
They are generally repeated, thus:—
Khu That sava bird khu down there kadu I e. want.
Khi That zawng monkey khi up there a he liane. big is.
When a noun qualified by one of these adjectives is an agent, the agent suffix “in” is combined with the second part of the adjective thus:—
| Khu ui khu-an min a sheh = | That dog down there bit me instead of Khu ui in khu. |
The personal pronouns have several forms, which are the same for both genders.
| Nominative |  | Keima, kei, ka = I. |
| Keimani, keine, kan = we. | ||
| Possessive |  | Keima, keiia, ka = my. |
| Keimani, keini, kan = our. | ||
| Keimata, keiata, kata = mine. | ||
| Keimanita, &c. = ours. | ||
| Objective | | Keimamin, kei min min = me. |
| Keimani min, &c. = us. |
The second person is “nangma” and “nangmani”; the third “ama,” “anmani.”
The possessive of the second person, when used as nominative of verbs, has a curious irregular form “i” in the singular and “in” in the plural.
The pronominal particles “ka” (I), “i” (thou), “a” (he), “kan” (we), “in” (you), “an” (they) must be used with verbs in addition to the pronouns, thus:—
| Nangma i kal ang em? = | Will you go? |
| Keimani chaw kan ei mek = | We are just eating our rice. |
The particle can never be omitted, whereas the true pronoun is generally left out except when required for emphasis.
Reflexive action is denoted in several ways.
The particle “in” is prefixed to the verb in all cases. The following are a few examples:—
| Ka in vel |  | I hitmyself. |
| Mani leh mani ka in vel | ||
| Mani in ka in vel | ||
| Keimanitheoh vin kan in vel = | We hit ourselves. | |
Relative Pronouns are:—
| Kha, chu, a piang = | who, which, what, that. |
| A piang, a piang kha, a piang chu = | whoever, &c. |
Lekha Letter i you ziak wrote kha that a it tha good e. is.
The pronouns are sometimes omitted, the idea being conveyed by the use of relative participles or verbal nouns.
I Your lekha letter ziak written a it tha good e is.
The letter you wrote is good.
Interrogative Pronouns are:—
| Tu-nge? Tu? Tu-maw? Eng-nge? Zeng-nge? Eng? Eng-maw? = | What? |
| Hhoi-i-nge? = | Which? |
They are used thus:—
| Tu-nge a lo kal? = | Who has come? |
Tu-in-a nge (house inWhose =) i you riak? = stay
Tu ar nge (fowlWhose) = i you lei? buy? Tu-in-nge Who vel hit che? you?
Tu-nge Whom did i you vel? = hit?
Tu and Tu-maw are only used thus:—
A He lo has kal come Tu-Maw? or Tu? = Who?
Eng-nge What i you duh? want? Khoi-i lekha buh nge (bookwhich) i you duh? = want?
Which book do you want?
Eng tui nge (waterWhat) = i you choi? draw?
The particle “a” preceding an interrogative pronoun has a partitive force.
| A tu-nge i ko? = | Which of them did you call? |
Verbs.
The same form is used for all persons and in singular and plural, the pronominal particles marking person and number.
| Shoi = | to say |
| Pres: | Ka shoi = I say. | Ka shoi mek = I amsaying. | |||
| Past: | Ka shoi or | | I said. | | Ka shoi mek a ni =I was saying. |
| Ka shoi or tawh | |||||
| Fut: | Ka shoi ang | | I will say | | Ka shoi mek ang = Ishall be saying. |
| Ka shoi dawn | |||||
| Ka shoi tawh ang =I shall have said. | |||||
Conditional Mood.
| Ka shoi tur | = I would say, or, I ought to say. |
| Ka shoi tawh tur | = I would have said, or, ought to have said. |
The future terminations are often used in a conditional sense.
Subjunctive Mood.
| Ka shoi chuan = | If I say, said or had said. |
The following forms are peculiar and appear to me of foreign origin. The pronominal prefixes are absent, the person and number being indicated by different forms.
| Shoi i la or i lang | = If I say or said. |
| Shoi la, or lang | = If thou sayest or saidst. |
| Shoi shela or shelang | = If he say or said. |
| Shoi i la or i lang | = If we say or said. |
| Shoi u la or lang | = If you say or said. |
| Shoi shela or shelang | = If they say or said. |
The pluperfect tense is formed by inserting “ta.”
| Shoi ta i la = | If I had said. |
| Shoi ta u lang = | If you had said. |
By inserting “ma” the meaning “although” or “even if” is given.
| Shoi ma she lang = | Even if he says. |
| Shoi ta ma u la = | Although you say. |
Imperative Mood.
The imperative has several forms:—
| Singular: | Shoi rawh, shoi ang che, shoi ta che, shoi te, shoi che, all mean “say.” The last four forms have a somewhat persuasive meaning. |
| Plural: | I shoi ang, i shoi ang u = Let us say. |
The second person plural is formed by adding “u” to the singular form.
Infinitive Mood.
The infinitive or verbal noun is the same as the root shoi = to say.
Ka I shoi say lai time in at } When I was saying.
A verbal noun can also be formed by the suffix “na.”
Ka My riak staying na in house.
The suffixes “tur,” “tur-in,” “na-tur,” “nan,” “an,” “in,” denotes infinitive of purposes.
Tui Water in tur to drink ka I duh. want.
Chaw Rice lei tur to buy ka I nei lo have not. } I have nothing wherewith to buy rice.
The suffix “tu” changes the verb into noun of agency.
| Veng-tu = a watchman. | Hril-tu = an informant. |
Participles: Shoia, shoi-ing = saying.
Negative.
There are two negative particles:—lo and shu.
The first is used except in the conditional and the imperative, when the latter is used.
The particles are placed after the root except in the past tense, when they follow the tense termination.
| Ka kal lo = | I do not go. | ||
| Ka kal ta lo = | I did not go. | ||
| Ka kal lo vang = | I will not go | | The “v”is inserted for sake of euphony. |
| Ka kal lo ve = | I do not go | ||
| Kal rawh = | Go. | ||
| Kal shu = | Don’t go. | ||
| Kal shu se = | Do not let him go. | ||
| Shoi shu u = | Do not say (plural). | ||
| Shoi shu i la = | If we do notsay. | ||
“Nem” and “nāng” are used as negative particles and intensify the meaning.
| Ka hre lo = | I don’t know. |
| Ka hre nem = | I don’t know. How should I? |
| Lal in a ka kal nāng = | I am not going to the chief’s house. Why should I be? |
Interrogative Particles.
These are as a rule placed at the end of a sentence. They are “em” and “em ni.”
| I kal ang em = | Will you go? |
“Em ni” sometimes implies that the answer is expected in the same form as the question.
| I lo-kal em ni = | You have come, have you? |
| A lo-kal lo vem ni = | He has come, has not he? |
“Maw”—This particle is used when the person asked, instead of replying at once, repeats part of the question—a pernicious and vexatious habit much indulged in by the Lushais.
| I dam em? = | Are you well? |
| Keima maw? Ka dam e = | Do you mean me? I am well. |
The Passive Voice.
The verb when used in the passive voice is pronounced slightly differently. The construction is as follows:—
| Lāl in min kāp = | The chief shot me. |
| Lāl kā kā ni = | I am shot by the chief. |
Verbal Prefixes.
These are a very noticeable peculiarity. They are:—
| Zuk = motion downwards. | Zuk la ro = Bring it down. |
| Han = motion upwards. | Han en rawh = Come up and see. |
| Han = motion towards the speaker. | A han la ta = He brought it. |
| Lo = motion towards the speaker. | Lāl a lo kāl = The chief arrives. |
| Ron = motion towardsthe indirect object. | |
| Lal hnena ron hril rawh = Go and tell thechief. | |
| Min ron pe rawh = Come and give it to me. | |
| Vā = motion from. | Vā lā zo = Go andbring. |
Adverbs.
There is a peculiar series of adverbs in Lushei, which, besides denoting the manner in which a thing is done, also convey some idea of the appearance of the agent, thus:—
| Lal a kāl buk buk = | The chief goes. |
“Buk buk” shows that the chief is a big, heavy man and is walking slowly.
“Bak bak” similarly used would mean that the chief was medium-sized and walking slowly, whereas “bik bek” could only be used of a small person proceeding slowly.
There are over a hundred such adverbs in Lushei.
Interjections.
The most common are “Ie” = I say! “Khai” = Come! “Ku” = Ho! “Chei chei” denoting disapproval and surprise. There are certain interjections, such as “Karei, Karei!” = Alas! Alas! which are only used by women.
The Lushais are very fond of piling up adverbs to intensify the meaning:—
Ava How mak wonderful em very em very mai! very!
Ava How mak wonderful em very veleh! indeed!
Literal Translation of an Account of the Thimzing.
Hmān Former lai hian time in thim darkness a it lo-zing-a; collected; chutichuan then mi mankind zawn all zawn all an they in-khawm themselves collected mur mur (untranslatable adverb) chutichuan then zawng monkey hmul hair a it lo began lenga to grow an their hgum spine ends a they thak itched an they hiat scratched thin-a always zawng monkeys a into te (plural suffix) an they changa changed tin their lal te chiefs chu indeed va-pual horn-bill a into an they lo became changa changed mi people chhia poor e-raw on the other chu hand zawng monkey a te ngau-va into grey te monkeys an they lo became changa. changed. Tin Then sa flesh lu head ro dry nei had chuan those who an they tuah put on a fire thing wood ai-in than a it tha good zawh more a was chu-te-chuan therefore an they dam lived rei long thei could zawk more an they ti. say. Tin Then mei-ling embers tlaivar watched all night lem-in more than others puan cloth tial striped shin in wearing sakeia tigers into an they changa changed thei may be tin then pitar old te hian women puanpui quilts an they sin-a were wearing sai elephants a into an they lo became changa. changed.
APPENDIX
Families and Branches of the Lushei Clan.
Besides the above families, there is one called Chhak-chhuak, i.e., “Come out of the east.” In spite of all enquiries I was unable to find out any reason for the name, which was sometimes said to be the name of a branch of one of the other families and sometimes that of a separate family.