The community has, among its members, land-owners, and graduates in theology, law, medicine, and the arts. Nine-tenths of the Native clergy in Tinnevelly are said to be converted Shānāns, and Tinnevelly claims Native missionaries working in Madagascar, Natal, Mauritius, and the Straits. The occupations of those whom I saw at Nazareth were merchant, cultivator, teacher, village munsif, organist, cart-driver, and cooly.

The Shānāns have established a school, called Kshatriya Vidyasala, at Virudupati in Tinnevelly. This is a free school, for attendance at which no fee is levied on the pupils, for the benefit of the Shānān community, but boys of other castes are freely admitted to it. It is maintained by Shānāns from their mahimai fund, and the teachers are Brāhmans, Shānāns, etc. The word mahimai means greatness, glory, or respectability.

Shānbōg.—The Māgane Shānbōg takes the place, in South Canara, of the village Karnam or accountant. There are also temple Shānbōgs, who are employed at the more important temples. When social disputes come up for decision at caste council meetings, the Shānbōg appointed by the caste records the evidence, and the Moktessor or Mukhtesar (chief man) of the caste decides upon the facts. In some places in South Canara Shānbōg is used as a synonym for Sārasvat Brāhman. In Mysore, the Shānbōg is said[48] to be “the village accountant, with hardly an exception of the Brāhman caste. The office is hereditary. In some places they hold land free of rent, and in others on light assessment. In some few places a fixed money allowance is given. In all instances there are certain fixed fees payable to them in money or kind by the ryots.”

It is noted by Mr. W. Robinson, in a report on the Laccadive islands (1869), that “the Monegar has the assistance of one of the islanders as a Karany, to take down depositions, and to read them, for the character used is the Arabic. In addition to these duties, the Karany has those of the Shanbogue. He keeps the accounts of the trees, and the coir (cocoanut fibre) in the islands, and makes out and delivers the accounts of coir brought to the coast.”

Shikāri.—Shikāri, meaning a sportsman or hunter, occurs as a synonym of Irula, and a sub-division of Korava. The name shikāri is also applied to a Native who “accompanies European sportsmen as a guide and aid, and to the European sportsman himself.”[49]

Shōlaga.—In his account of the Shōlagas or Sōlagas, early in the last century, Buchanan[50] writes that they “speak a bad or old dialect of the Karnāta language, have scarcely any clothing, and sleep round a fire, lying on a few plantain leaves, and covering themselves with others. They live chiefly on the summits of mountains, where the tigers do not frequent, but where their naked bodies are exposed to a disagreeable cold. Their huts are most wretched, and consist of bamboos with both ends stuck into the ground, so as to form an arch, which is covered with plantain leaves.” The up-to-date Shōlaga, who inhabits the jungles of Coimbatore between Dimbhum and Kollegal near the Mysore frontier, is clad in a cotton loin-cloth, supplemented by a coat of English pattern with regimental buttons, and smears himself freely on special occasions, such as a visit to the Government anthropologist, with sacred ashes in mimicry of the Lingāyats.

I gather from a correspondent that the following tradition concerning their origin is current. In days of yore there lived two brothers in the Geddesala hills, by name Kārayan and Billaya or Mādhēswara. The Uralis and Shōlagas are descended from Kārayan, and the Sivachāris (Lingāyats) from Mādhēswara. The two brothers fell into the hands of a terrible Rākshasha (demon), by name Savanan, who made Kārayan a shepherd, but imprisoned Mādhēswara for not paying him sufficient respect, and extracted all kinds of menial work from him. Last of all he ordered him to make a pair of shoes, whereupon Mādhēswara asked for his liberty for a few days, to enable him to have the shoes well made. His request being granted, Mādhēswara betook himself to the god Krishnamurti, and asked him for his help in his troubles. The god was only too happy to assist, and suggested that the shoes should be made of wax. Helped by Krishnamurti, Mādhēswara made a very beautiful-looking pair of shoes. Krishnamurti then ordered him to pile up and light a huge bonfire on a bare rocky hill east of Geddesala, so as to make it nearly red-hot. The ashes were then cleared away, so as to leave no trace of their plot. Mādhēswara then took the shoes, and presented them to Savanan, who was much pleased with them, and willingly acceded to Mādhēswara’s request that he would put them on, and walk along the rock. But, as soon as he stepped upon it, the shoes melted, and Savanan fell heavily on the rock, clutching hold of Mādhēswara as he fell, and trying to strangle him. Krishnamurti had assembled all the gods to witness the carrying out of the plot, and, telling each of them to pile a stone on Savanan’s head, himself rescued Mādhēswara from his clutches, and all jumped upon the Rākshasha till no trace of him was left. While this was going on, Kārayan was tending Savanan’s herds in the forest, and, when he came to hear about it, was angry with his brother for not consulting him before destroying Savanan. Flying from Kārayan, who was armed with a knife, Mādhēswara implored Krishnamurti’s help, by which he was able to leap from Kotriboli to the hill called Urugamalai, a distance of some ten miles. The force of the leap caused the hill to bend—hence its name meaning the bending hill. Finding that the hill was bending, and being still hotly pursued by his brother, knife in hand, Mādhēswara again appealed to Krishnamurti, and was enabled to make another leap of about five miles to a hill called Eggaraimalai, which immediately began to subside. Hence its name, meaning the subsiding hill. Thence he fled to Munikanal, and concealed himself under a rock, closely followed by Kārayan, who slashed the rock with his knife, and left marks which are visible to this day. From Munikanal he fled to the hill now known as Mādhēswaranamalai, and hid in a rat hole. Kārayan, not being able to unearth him, sent for a lot of shepherds, and made them pen their sheep and cattle over the hole. The effluvium became too strong for the fugitive, so he surrendered himself to his brother, who pardoned him on the understanding that, on deification, Kārayan should have prior claim to all votive offerings. To this Mādhēswara agreed, and to this day Sivachāris, when doing pūja, first make their offerings to Kārayan and afterwards to Mādhēswara. In connection with this legend, any one proceeding to the top of Kotriboli hill at the present day is expected to place a stone upon the rock, with the result that there are many piles of stones there. Even Europeans are asked to do this.

The Shōlagas are said to call themselves men of five kulams, or exogamous septs, among which are Chalikiri, Tēneru, Belleri, Surya (the sun), and Aleru. By members of the twelve kulam class, everything is done by twelves. For example, on the twelfth day after a birth, twelve elders are invited to the house to bless the child. At a marriage, twelve of the bridegroom’s relations go and fetch the bride, and the wedding pandal (booth) has twelve posts. The parents of the bridegroom pay twelve rupees to the bride’s father, and a tāli (marriage badge) worth twelve annas is tied round the bride’s neck. In case of death, the body is borne on a stretcher made of twelve bamboos, and mourning lasts for twelve days.

Tribal disputes, e.g., quarrelling and adultery, are decided by the Yejamāna, assisted by a Pattagara and a few leading men of the community. Under the orders of the two former is the Chalavāthi or village servant. The Yejamāna, Pattagara, and Chalavāthi must belong respectively to the Chalikiri, Teneri, and Surya septs.

When a girl reaches puberty, she occupies a separate hut for five days, and then returns home after a bath. The maternal uncle should present her with a new cloth, betel leaves and areca nuts, and plantain fruits. In the formal marriage ceremony, the tāli is tied by the bridegroom inside a booth; the maternal uncle, if he can afford it, presents a new cloth to the bride, and a feast is held. Sometimes even this simple rite is dispensed with, and the couple, without any formality, live together as man and wife, on the understanding that, at some time, a feast must be given to a few of the community. I am told that the Shōlagas of the Burghur hills have a very extraordinary way of treating expectant mothers. A few days before the event is expected to take place, the husband takes his wife right away into the jungle, and leaves her there alone with three days’ supply of food. There she has to stay, and do the best she can for herself. If she does not come back at the end of the three days, the husband goes out and takes her more food. But she may not return to her village till the baby is born. When one of these unfortunate creatures comes back safely, there is a great celebration in her honour, with beating of tom-tom, etc.