The uncivilized races of men in all countries of the world; vol. 2 of 2 / Being a comprehensive account of their manners and customs, and of their physical, social, mental, moral and religious characteristics

by J. G. Wood

Preliminary to a marriage the diviner or toomsa is consulted in regard to the fortune of the intended bride; some portion of her dress or some ornament is obtained and given to the seer, who then predicts her destiny. If his report be favorable, messengers are sent with presents to the girl’s parents to make proposals and learn from them the amount of the dowry required; if these terms be accepted, the bridegroom sends two messengers to inform the bride’s parents that such a day is selected for the marriage. These are feasted, and then attended on their return by two of her kindred, who agree to be prepared for the marriage. “When the day comes five young men set out from the bridegroom’s village to that of the bride, where they wait till nightfall in a neighboring house. At dusk the bride is brought thither by one of the stranger girls, as it were, without the knowledge of her parents, and told that these men have come to claim her. They all set out for the bridegroom’s village. In the morning, the bride is placed under a closed canopy outside the bridegroom’s house. Presently there arrives a party of young men from her village to search, as they say, for one of their girls who has been stolen. They are invited to look under the canopy, and bidden, if they will, to take the girl away, but they reply, ‘It is well, let her remain where she is.’ While a buffalo, etc., are being killed as a sacrifice, the bridegroom hands over the dowry, and shows the trousseau prepared for his bride. Meanwhile, the toomsa, or officiating priest has arranged bunches of fresh grass, pressed down with bamboos at regular intervals, so as to form a carpet between the canopy and the bridegroom’s house.”

At every marriage there is an invocation to the household nats, and a libation of sheroo and water. The grass-path over which the bride passes from the canopy is sprinkled with the blood of fowls. Boiled eggs, ginger, and dried fish are offered to the household deities. This ends the ceremony. The bridegroom is merely a spectator of all these rites. Then a grand feast follows. In addition to the usual fare, such as plantains, rice, fish, and pork, the flesh of the buffalo, offered in sacrifice, and that of the barking deer are provided for the guests. These viands, together with liberal supplies of sheroo and the Chinese samshu, are the preparations for the dance. Various musical instruments are employed to contribute to the entertainment of the occasion; and the marriage feast ends at length, like all their festal gatherings, in drunkenness and often in a brutal quarrel.

Female infidelity after marriage the Kakhyens regard as a crime punishable by death, which the aggrieved husband may inflict at any time upon both the offenders. If a wife elope the husband is entitled to damages double the amount of the marriage dowry, and this the kinsmen of the wife’s seducer must make good or incur the penalty of a feud.

The household nats are propitiated the day after the birth of a child by the sacrifice of a hog and offerings of sheroo. The toomsa, the slayer and the cook, and the head of the household only share in the flesh; but the entrails, with eggs, fish, and ginger, are put upon the altars so that the villagers may partake. All are invited, and sheroo is offered in the order of seniority. When the feast is over the oldest man among the guests rises, and pointing to the child announces its name.

The peculiarities of their burial rites can best be given in the language of Dr. Anderson: “When a Kakhyen dies the news is announced by a discharge of matchlocks. This is a signal for all to repair to the house of death. Some cut bamboos and timber for the coffin, others prepare for the funeral rites. A circle of bamboos is driven into the ground slanting outward, so that the upper circle is much wider than the base. To each a small flag is fastened, grass is placed between this circle and the house, and the toomsa scatters grass over the bamboos and pours a libation of sheroo. A hog is then slaughtered, and the flesh cooked and distributed, the skull being fixed on one of the bamboos. The coffin is made of the hollowed trunk of a large tree, which the men fell with their dahs. Just before its fall a fowl is killed by being dashed against the tottering stem. The place where the head is to rest is blackened with charcoal and a lid constructed. The body is washed and dressed in new clothes. Some of the pork, boiled rice, and sheroo are placed before it, and a piece of silver is inserted in the mouth to pay ferry dues over the streams the spirit may have to cross. It is then coffined and carried to the grave, amidst the discharge of firearms. The old clothes of the deceased are laid on the mound, and sheroo is poured out, the best being drunk by the friends around it. In returning the mourners strew ground-rice along the path, and when near the village they cleanse their legs and arms with fresh leaves. Before re-entering the house all are lustrated with water by the toomsa with an asperge of grass, pass over a bundle of grass sprinkled with the blood of a fowl, sacrificed during their absence to the spirit of the dead. Eating and drinking wind up the day. Next morning an offering of a hog and sheroo is made to the spirit of the dead man, and a feast and dance are held till late at night and resumed in the morning. A final sacrifice of a buffalo in honor of the household nats then takes place, and the toomsa breaks down the bamboo fence, after which the final death-dance successfully drives forth the spirit, which is believed to have been still lingering round its former dwelling.”

In the death-dance all classes and ages participate,—men, women, and children,—each carrying a small stick with which they beat time as they move round the hall with measured step, which is a sort of prance and side-shuffle. The drummers vigorously beat their instruments, and ever and anon the dancers burst into loud yells and increase the speed and violence of their movements.

No funeral rites are granted to those who are killed by shot or steel. Such are buried in jungles, their bodies being merely wrapped in mats. A small, open hut is constructed over the grave for the occupancy of the spirits, and a dah, bag, and basket are deposited there for them. So, too, those dying of small-pox and women dying in child-birth are refused the usual rites of burial. A strange superstition possesses the people respecting the mother and her unborn child,—they are supposed to become a terrible compound vampire. All the young people hurry from the house in terror, and the diviner is summoned to discover what animal the evil spirit will devour, and with what other it will transmigrate. The first animal is sacrificed and a part of the flesh put before the corpse. The other animal indicated by the toomsa is hung, and a grave is dug in the direction to which the head of the animal pointed when dead. The clothes and ornaments of the deceased are deposited in the grave and the other property is burned upon it, and a small hut is built over it.

These singular rites indicate in some degree the prominent idea in the religion of this wild race. There is a universal and irresistible belief in good and evil spirits, and the ancient forms of worshipping them are retained. All missionary endeavors to produce any change in their religious thought and customs have been fruitless. There is a belief in a future existence and a vague conception of a Supreme Author of all things.

“The objects of worship are the nats, benign or malignant,—the first such as Sinlah, the sky spirit, who gives rain and good crops; Chan and Shitah, who cause the sun and moon to rise. These they worship because their fathers did so and told their children that they were good. Cringwan is the beneficent patron of agriculture; but the malignant nats must be bribed not to ruin the crops. When the ground is cleared for sowing, Masoo is appeased with pork and fowls burned at the foot of the village altars; when the paddy is eared, buffaloes and pigs are sacrificed to Cajat. A man about to travel is placed under the care of Muron, the toomsa, after due sacrifices, requesting him to tell the other nats not to harm that man. Neglect of Mowlain will result in the want of compraw, or silver, the great object of a Kakhyen’s desire; and if hunters forbear offerings to Chilong some one will be killed by stag or tiger. Chilong and Muron are two of ten brothers who have an especial interest in Kakhyen affairs, and another, named Phee, is the guardian of the night. Every hill, forest, and stream has its own nat of greater or less power; every accident or illness is the work of some malignant or vindictive one of ‘these viewless ministers.’

The character of this race of mountaineers is not attractive. They are not brave as warriors, but are quarrelsome and revengeful, and if atonement for a wrong be not made they perpetuate a feud implacably. They do not seek an open, fair fight, but lie in wait and attack stealthily, springing like the tiger upon their foes. Anderson touches their portrait with these dark lines,—“lazy, thievish, and untrustworthy.”