The latter, which include various objects, such as figures of men,

women, animals, etc., pictures, banners, and so on, are none of them

regarded as idols or worshipped, neither are they fetishes--the

instruments of spirits, or themselves endowed with life--although those

of them representative of living objects are from time to time given

such food as pork or coconuts. They merely act as "scare-devils,"

putting to flight the demons of sickness and guarding their constructors

from any misfortune. They are effective only on behalf of those who make

them, and at such person's death it is the custom to destroy or discard

the talismans.

[Illustration: Nicobarese Talisman.]

[Illustration: "Scare-devil," or device for exorcising evil spirits

(Kachal).]

The natives have no temples or any form of worship, but there have come

into being _shamans_ or priest-doctors, known as _tamiluanas_ and

_menluanas_, who have the power of communicating with the spirits, and

by means of certain ceremonies, in conjunction with the use of rods,

particular leaves, and ashes, periodically, by open warfare and by

magic, drive the malignant demons from such places in man's

neighbourhood as they may have intruded into, or defeat them when

prevailing disease or misfortune can be traced to their agency.

These practices and beliefs, which it would be incorrect to class

together under the name of religion, are not accompanied by any moral

element. Their code of ethics has no connection whatever with the form

of malevolent spiritualism which they entertain, but is entirely an

affair of public opinion and social convention.

The cult of the natives as it exists in the south, with its multiplicity

of charms, "medicine," and demon-scaring figures and objects, is

probably only an isolated case of a practice widely spread throughout

the Malayan Archipelago--in Sumatra, Borneo, and other islands, and even

amongst the Papuans still further east.[157]

On the other hand, it is not at all impossible, in view of the natives'

acquisitiveness of foreign ideas, that most of their practices arise

from a corrupted interpretation of the, in other respects, futile

teachings of the numerous missionaries who have laboured in vain in the

islands, complicated by an additional jumble of tenets adopted from

other strangers with whom they have come into contact, while, in

particular, the figures, pictures, and charms of many localities may be

to some extent merely a degraded survival of the religious paraphernalia

of the Jesuit missionaries.

[Illustration: Female Talisman (Kachal).

Female Talisman, "Kario" (Nankauri).]

One might adduce in support of this theory the fact that superstition

and its accessories thrive most strongly in the places where the

missionaries as a rule establish themselves--Kar Nicobar and Nankauri

Harbour.

* * * * *

Fever, colic, coughs, rheumatism, and sore and inflamed eyes, are not

unfrequent ailments. Syphilis also occurs, and has probably been

introduced by the traders, or by the Nicobarese who have visited

Calcutta and Moulmein in their vessels.

Itch (_tinea circinata tropica_) is in some localities very prevalent

among the natives, who are also liable to attacks of a mild form of

elephantiasis throughout the Archipelago. It is said that in Chaura from

one-third to one-half the population are so diseased in one way or the

other. Cases of yaws occur from time to time among children.

Eno's fruit salt, camphor, castor-oil, turpentine, and quinine, are the

principal features of the Nicobarese pharmacopoeia.

Eno's fruit salt mixed with water, with a little powdered camphor and

turpentine added, is given twice a day for colic. For fever, a little

quinine is added to the same mixture.

Sandalwood and jessamine oil are held in great repute as aphrodisiacs,

and are purchased from the Burmese traders in small quantities at a very

high price.

Faith, however, is not always placed in the efficacy of mundane

remedies. A woman who had been ill for a year, when asked if she would

take medicine, replied, "The devil has caused this illness, and it

cannot be cured by medicine. Only the _tamiluanas_ can cure me by

driving the devil out of me." She preferred sugar and biscuits to drugs.

Malaria, which is perhaps the indisposition by which they are most

frequently attacked, is always attributed to demonic agency.

* * * * *

Marriage amongst the Nicobarese is of a class that is considered to be a

modification of the matriarchal system, and that exists widely spread

in this portion of the world amongst the Malayan and Indo-Chinese

peoples.

Until he marries, a man considers himself a member of his father's

household, but after that event he calls himself the son of his

father-in-law, and becomes a member of his wife's family, leaving the

house of his own parents, or even his village, if the woman dwell

elsewhere.[158]

Only the chiefs, or wealthy men whose positions in the village are of

influence, are exceptions to this law; they are permitted by custom to

bring their wives to their own houses.[159]

There is no law of exogamy amongst them--a man marries in his own

village, village-group, or even house; for although connections between

blood relatives are disapproved of, there is nothing to prevent such

taking place, except public opinion, which may often be disregarded with

impunity.

The woman on her marriage brings no special dower into the partnership,

neither is there any custom by which the man is compelled to place a

certain amount of property at the disposal of her parents. Each has a

right to a certain proportion of their common household possessions, and

their worldly status improves by inheritance and by their own efforts.

Those marriages are most successful from which children are numerous,

for these make life easier by taking a large amount of the daily and

special work upon themselves, and by acting as a support and provision

to their parents in old age.

There is very little that is binding in the marriage state of these

people, cohabitation with its duties being co-existent with mutual

consent. So long as they like each other and are contented with their

position, the couple remain together; but the absence of children,

illness, old age, and many extremely trivial reasons are sufficient

cause for separation.[160] The divorce is a matter for the two most

concerned only; there are no public proceedings to take place, no

ceremonies to undergo.[161]

Most of the adult members of the population have been married three or

four times, a goodly number far more often. The children of the

partnership, if young, go with the more influential of the parents;

when older, they exercise an individual choice.[162]

From the nature of the marriage, the woman as often divorces her husband

as _vice versa_.

The natives as a race are monogamous, but now and again polygamy is

found to occur. It is practised, however, only by the chiefs and more

wealthy men, who live in their own houses, and can afford to domicile

their wives in separate dwellings.[163]

Cases of adultery are punished by a fine, but there is no established

amount. The village elders consult together as to what the seducer shall

be mulcted of, and generally decide on a certain number of pigs, which

are cut up and distributed among the community.[164]

There seems to be no objection to a girl having as many lovers as she

likes before marriage, and altogether the state when entered upon is one

that presses very lightly on the people. There are few unwritten laws on

the subject, and public opinion is of hardly any weight.[165]

Courtship, like marriage, is merely a variation of the Malayan custom of

nocturnal visiting, much simplified, however, by the absence of any

ceremonies to mark its change into a more stable relationship.

When a man desires to marry a girl, he contracts a friendship with her

family, assists her in her daily work, and sleeps for a time in whatever

house she may occupy. During the night he seeks the girl, who will be

sleeping among others, and by blowing on the burning end of a cigarette

he obtains light enough to discriminate. The efforts of the man to

embrace and caress her the girl withstands vigorously with blows and

scratches, so that his face and chest are often torn and covered with

blood. So things continue for several nights perhaps, the man suffering

patiently the while, until, if she is willing to take him as a husband,

she yields herself. This is their nuptials, and concludes the

marriage.[166] Thenceforth, the man holds to his wife's house rather

than his own family's, but often the parents will learn nothing for some

time.[167]

Sometimes the girl makes the path of courtship less easy, by changing

her sleeping-hut from night to night. This difficulty the lover

generally overcomes by employing small boys to follow her about and

inform him of her resting-place.

Occasionally the man, following the girl home at night after a dance,

etc., will meet with an attempt at resistance on the part of the other

women dwelling there, when he essays to enter the house she has

chosen.[168]

A man wishing to escape the consequences of marriage, and thinking he

was unrecognised in the darkness by others during his intercourse with

the girl, will nearly always be identified by some of the women present.

If he refuses to carry out his share of the contract, a council is

called of the principal men of his village, and they fine him so many

pigs, which form the material for a general feast.

* * * * *

In the northern islands, the "Town Halls" in the _Elpanams_ are the

property of the community in general, for they are the work of the whole

village. The products of the forest are common to all, but it is now

necessary to obtain the headman's permission before occupying a piece of

land near the village, to build a house or make a garden on.

Everything which the village as a whole makes or purchases, as the

_Elpanam_ houses or Chaura canoes, is common property, but the result of

individual work belongs to the individual. Plantations, coconuts,[169]

canoes, and houses, are private possessions, liable, however, to family

claims founded on common family work.

Both sexes inherit, and property is generally divided equally among the

heirs.

There is in Kar Nicobar a method of guarding property termed _takoia_,

which at first is liable to be taken for a case of _tabu_ or _pomali_.

Posts and sticks, decorated with coloured rags and coconut husks, are

erected near gardens, plantations, etc. They have no superstitious

significance whatever, and only act as a kind of notice of title,

warning all and sundry that the surroundings are private property.

Anyone discovered stealing the same is fined, _i.e._, the usual pigs are

confiscated to feast the community.[170]

The village headman and his deputy are a recent institution of the

authorities to simplify the procedure of controlling the natives. The

opinion of the village is generally taken on the question, and, if

approved of, their nominees are invested with a certificate, a flag, and

a suit of clothes, presented yearly.

The headmen can command no obedience, and enforce no laws; they work

only by persuasion; and, with the more influential men, deliberate on

vexed questions, and impose fines, which seem always paid. Such fines do

not accrue to the benefit of the injured party, but of the community,

who enjoy a feast as the result, in which the culprit himself takes

part.

As the headman now stands, he is the successor of the village "captain"

or presiding elder, who had no other functions but to represent the

community on the arrival of ships, and to regulate barter. His office

and title were instituted by the natives when relations with European

vessels became frequent, in order that they might have some

representative to correspond to the commanding officer.

Before this epoch, everybody seems to have been on a footing of complete

social equality, as, with the exceptions above-noted, is the case

to-day.

Everyone, even children, is his own master; but persons who have been

abroad, by virtue of their experience, are respected and have some

authority, as also have the aged and wealthy. But there is no one who

has power to exercise control over even a single village, save in the

way of carrying out popular ideas.

A "primitive form of socialism exists. Chiefs are unknown. Certain

individuals, by force of character ... have more influence than

others ... but this influence seems to be at best but slight, and each

person is obedient to himself alone, or to some unwritten code of public

opinion"[171]--really the essence of the whole system.

The position of women is, and always has been, in no way inferior to

that of the other sex. They take their full share in the formation of

public opinion, discuss publicly with the men matters of general

interest to the village, and their opinions receive due attention before

a decision is arrived at. In fact, they are consulted on every matter,

and the henpecked husband is of no extraordinary rarity in the Nicobars.

In Kar Nicobar, where the villages are divided into groups of several

houses, a woman occasionally succeeds her late husband as sub-chief, on

account of the knowledge she may possess of the regulations in vogue,

the property and customs of her neighbours.

Women take a fair share in the day's work. They do the cooking, and the

whole family eats together; the men build the houses, canoes, etc.; both

sexes may be seen working in company in the plantations, fishing on the

reefs, and paddling the canoes.

It is only the women in Chaura who manufacture pottery; but as the art

is a monopoly, they must be looked on as rather privileged than

otherwise.

In fine, there is no actual division of labour, but all assist in

whatever has to be done, from their earliest years. Although scarcely

any obedience seems due from children to their parents, most of the

ordinary tasks of life are undertaken by young people of both sexes, and

much deference is paid to age, especially when it is combined with

wealth.

The domestic animals of the Nicobarese are swine, cats, fowls, and dogs,

the latter generally of the pariah variety; but now and again in the

southern islands a mongrel chow is met with, a cross between the chow

and some animal brought thither by the Chinese junks. All are the

descendants of introduced species. They are fed on little else but

coconut, and support life on this and the results of their own foraging.

Pigeons, parrots, and monkeys are occasionally to be seen in captivity,

but the natives have not attempted to systematically utilise the

megapode; all the laying-places near the villages are, however, known,

and periodically overhauled for eggs.[172]

Weapons, in the strict sense of the word, do not exist now among the

Nicobarese; they possess no shields, swords, clubs, or spears for

warlike purposes only. The Burmese _dao_, their most common

implement--obtained from the ship-traders--is used for everyday purposes

and for house-building, agriculture, canoe-fitting, etc., while the

spears and harpoons used for pig-killing, cattle-hunting, and fishing

are nearly all constructed by attaching a suitable haft to the variously

shaped heads which are made locally. A fishing spear of native make is

of the many-pronged wooden type (Mal., _s'rempang_) common throughout

the East--a bunch of diverging barbed skewers spliced into a haft with

lashings of cord or rattan.

The Shom Pe[.n] manufacture a javelin or dart, which is used

indiscriminately for warfare or the chase as occasion may require; it is

made of a single piece of heavy wood, and is possibly the same kind of

implement as was in general use among the Nicobarese before the

introduction of iron heads.[173]

Fifty and more years ago, the natives obtained numbers of muskets--of

which they were much afraid--by barter with European traders; but

recently the Indian Government has prohibited the possession of these

weapons, and whenever any are discovered they are immediately

confiscated.

[Illustration: 1. Shom Pe[.n] Spear (Great Nicobar). 2 and 3, "_Hanoi

cha_," Canoe Decorations for bow, stern, and outrigger (Kar Nicobar). 4,

Turtle Spear. 5 and 6, Wooden Fishing Spears. 7, Ornamental Canoe

Stern-piece, "_Misoka ap_" (Kar Nicobar). 8, 9, and 10, Iron Fishing

Spears.]

In common with the other Malayan peoples, they do not seriously employ

the bow and arrow. Crossbows are in use among them for shooting birds,

but it is evident that such implements are not the invention of the

natives. The stock is fashioned like a gun-butt, and the arrow rests in

a groove running along the top of the fore-end, and is kept in position

by means of three half-hoop pegs of brass wire. The bow is perfectly

round in section, tapering towards the ends, and the release is of the

string and peg variety, hitching over the top of the trigger. The

arrows, which are unfeathered and half the diameter of a lead pencil,

have for point a sharpened nail attached by a wrapping of sheet-tin.

These bows have either been copied from the weapons of the early

voyagers, or, more probably, have been introduced by the Burmese,

amongst whom and the Karens there exists an article almost exactly

similar.

Tools of European model are now common, and for fashioning canoes,

houses, etc., imported axes, saws, adzes, planes, and spokeshaves are

used, in addition to the _dao_.

The latter is never fitted with a handle, and from constant use of it

thus, thick ridges of skin and corns form on the inside of the natives'

hands. It is found that the bare tang is very convenient for picking up

coconuts; for retaining the weapon when up in the palm trees, by

sticking it into the bark, thus leaving both hands free; for punching

two holes in the opposite sides of a nut, through which the water may be

extracted by suction; and for many other purposes.

The Nicobarese rarely use nets for fishing. Besides occasionally

employing small casting nets purchased from traders,--the construction

of which they never themselves attempt--they make and use a primitive

net trap, which is baited and held a foot or two below the surface by

the fisherman, who, on seeing a fish nibbling at the bait, promptly

raises the trap, thereby catching the fish in the netting.

The fish are obtained either by hook and line (imported), or by spearing

by day or at night with the aid of blazing torches of coconut leaf.

Open-meshed traps of rattan, of various sizes and shapes, with

funnel-shaped mouth leading towards the interior, are in common use, and

are sunk in the sea-bottom in suitable places. They also construct weirs

of coconut leaves (_Tananga_--Kar Nicobar; _Kan-Shang_--Nankauri), by

means of which large quantities of fish are generally caught. These are

employed only during the dry season when the sea is fairly calm.

Finally, the narcotic property possessed by the seeds of _Barringtonia

speciosa_[174] is made use of; for, in pools and confined waters, the

addition of a small quantity of a paste, made of the mashed kernels,

acts like "tuba," causing all the fish present to become insensible and

rise to the surface, where they may be collected at leisure.

Turtle are common about the islands, and many skulls are to be met with

in the houses of the natives, by whom they are used for the expulsion of

demons. They are captured when floating on the sea by means of a harpoon

with a skewer-shaped iron head, which, when fast in the shell, detaches

from the shaft and remains connected by a short piece of cord only.

Large quantities of fish are often caught, when the weather is

favourable, by means of the _kan-shang_, traps, etc., and, consequently,

at times the natives live largely on fish. The staples of food

throughout the year are coconuts and pandanus fruit, with bananas, yams,

and occasionally other fruits and vegetables in small quantities. Fowls

and pork can only be afforded now and then. Rice is used to a small

extent, and is one of the articles for which the natives barter

coconuts.

The fruit of the pandanus, which is an egg-shaped mass frequently

attaining a diameter of 18 inches, consists of a cluster of fibrous

drupes, the tops of which are sliced off as soon as gathered. Thus

treated, it can be preserved for some weeks.

When preparing it for eating, these divisions are separated from the

central core and placed in a pot over a layer of bamboos or a

grating,[175] below which there is a little water; above them are laid

yams, or whatever may be suitably cooked by that process, and the whole

is then covered with leaves and steamed for some hours.[176]

The pulpy matter that it contains is then scraped out with a shell while

the drupe is held on a heavy slab of wood, and then the bristly fibres

with which the nutritious portion is intermixed are extracted from the

latter by drawing threads of a sort of bass through the pasty mass

resulting. Thus is obtained a smooth dough, of a yellowish colour and

somewhat sweet taste, that has been likened in flavour to

apple-marmalade. A portion of this (_kow-en_), with some grated coconut,

and sometimes a piece of chicken or pork, constitutes the usual meal.

This food is often made up into leaf-covered bundles, in which state it

acquires a distinctive, though not unpleasant, odour, and can be kept a

long time.

The fibrous drupe, after treatment as above, is commonly used as a

foot-brush[177] at many of the islands, for which purpose it is kept

near the top of the hut-ladder for those entering the hut.

The principal beverages are the water of the green unripe coconut, and

toddy, made by fermenting the sap of the coco palm, which is regularly

bled at the crown into bamboo receptacles. The toddy is largely

manufactured, and as it is no more intoxicating than strong ale, much

has to be consumed before drunkenness results. Ordinary water is

scarcely ever taken, and its use is almost entirely restricted to

cooking.

For the last few years the authorities at Port Blair have attempted to

inculcate in the natives a liking for tea, the taste for which they have

fostered by presenting the headmen with quantities of the leaf, in the

hope that it will, if it become popular, somewhat minimise the prevalent

consumption of toddy, which, when largely indulged in, cannot but have a

bad effect on the general health of the people.

Toddy, however, does not stand alone as an intoxicant: nearly everywhere

one comes across the black, square bottles in which gin is conveyed to

all parts of the world: occasionally brandy is inquired for, but on all

the islands there is a demand for rum, and this seems to have been the

favourite drink since it was introduced to the natives by British

captains bartering for coconuts in the early part of the last century.

At present, however, Chinese traders are the only smugglers, and the

spirit they introduce, _samshu_, runs only occasional risk of

confiscation, as the trade of the junks is for the most part in places

seldom visited by the occasional patrolling steamer.

Tobacco is used by everyone--men, women, and children--both for chewing

and smoking: the native cigarette is a very crude affair, composed of a

small quantity of the weed and a large amount of a certain dried leaf.

The tobacco finding most favour is of Chinese and Javanese manufacture,

and cigars are much appreciated.

Betel-chewing is universal, and the quid--which undoubtedly acts as a

stimulant--consists of areca-nut, lime, and the sireh leaf only, without

the addition of gambier. The teeth of the Nicobarese are both large and

prominent, and the continuous use of betel and tobacco stains them a

brown and black colour that is much admired.

In person, the natives, although generally clean, are less particular

than tropical races as a rule: there are none of the fenced-in wells

(_panchurans_, or bathing-screens) on the stream banks that one sees

near all the villages of the Malays, but an occasional bath is taken by

pouring the contents of a dozen coconut shells over the body. Clothing

gets a rinse in the sea at intervals by way of cleansing.

At the present time the everyday dress is of red cotton, but for the

first half and more of the last century the fashion ran all in blue. On

ordinary occasions men wear a long strip of cotton, generally red,

passing round the thighs and between the legs,[178] and women drape a

fathom or two of cotton about the waist by twisting the ends together;

but for other times there are cotton draperies, _sarongs_, Chinese coats

and trousers, and also European garments, which, from top-hats to

shirts, are in great demand.[179]

In the north a chaplet of areca palm spathe with loose ends

(_ta-choekla_) is much worn, and the ear-lobes are pierced to retain

short plugs of bamboo, half an inch in diameter, inlaid with silver and

with silver pendants. From Kamorta southward the common head-dress is a

similar chaplet of pandanus leaf (_shanoang_), or a coloured

handkerchief or circlet of calico, and there is a plain ear-distender,

one inch or more in diameter and three long, often shaped like a wedge:

this is replaced on festive occasions by a large rosette of red and

white cotton.

Other ornaments are bangles and anklets, made by twisting thick silver

wire about the limb, and belts and necklaces made of rupees or smaller

coins. Rings are worn, either of silver or shell.

Face and chest are sometimes covered with vermilion or saffron paint,

but the natives do not employ any form of tattoo or scarification.

Hair is usually worn short by both sexes, but there is a more or less

distinctive style or fashion at all the islands. On the occasion of a

sudden or violent death at a village all its inhabitants are required

to shave their heads, and the women their eyebrows as well.[180]

Mourning for a relative is indicated in like manner as well as by other

observances. With infants the head is often shaved for a time, and for

the next few years the hair is kept short, in which way it is also worn

by all ages and sexes. Boys as a rule have their heads cropped.

Fairly long hair is worn by many, but in no case is it ever permitted to

grow below the shoulders; at that point it is cut across horizontally,

and then, when bushy, the hair presents much the appearance represented

in Assyrian and Egyptian records.

The Nicobarese possess no musical instrument of their own invention, but

very occasionally some individual attempts to produce, without much

success, a copy of something he has seen in the hands of foreigners--a

violin, guitar, etc.

Two instruments are, however, in use among them: one, a seven-holed

flageolet, which is Burmese, and the other, the _danang_, borrowed from

the Indian "sitar," has three frets, a string of cane, and two

sound-holes.[181] "It is a hollowed bamboo, about 2-1/2 feet long and 3

inches in diameter, along the outside of which there is stretched from

end to end a single string, made of the threads of a split rattan, and

the place under the string is hollowed, to prevent it from touching.

This instrument is played upon in the same way as a guitar" while rested

on the knee.[182]

With the exception of dancing, singing, and feasting, there are hardly

any organised amusements. The exact forms of the dances vary, but for

special occasions new figures and songs are composed and assiduously

practised. In the north-west, challenges for canoe races, or processions

rather, circulate amongst the Kar Nicobar villages, and are taken part

in by twenty or thirty men a-side. The large canoes are decorated, and

the course is a long one--several miles along the coast from village to

village. As the men sing at the top of their voices throughout the race,

they are generally exhausted at the finish. The pace is not remarkable,

and the canoes keep abreast throughout, neither seeming to mind which

comes in first.

Wrestling is a favourite pursuit of the boys. There is no science or

cunning displayed, and the rounds are very short, one or the other

combatant going down at once.

Pig processions are a pastime indulged in by young men. A pig is tied

beneath a pole, and, with one of their number seated astride of it, is

borne, with songs, about the village by a party of youths in the

evening.

In such villages as are situated near the calmer waters of harbours,

little children amuse themselves by sailing models of canoes and junks.

The Nicobarese have no writing or pictography, and their attempts at

ornamental work on articles of general utility are confined to the

finials of the houses, the stem and stern posts of their canoes, and a

little decorative carving on their wooden dishes.[183] Nevertheless, in

the charms and talismans connected with their superstitious cult they

betray a certain artistic ability, and their pictures, screens, and

figures of birds, men, and animals, show not only good powers of

observation, but a capacity and skill of no mean order, in interpreting

and reproducing whatever may present itself to them.

As concerns metals, it appears that 200 years ago Jesuit missionaries

discovered tin on Great Nicobar. Having regard to the proximity of the

rich deposits of this metal in Sumatra and the Malayan Peninsula, it

seems not improbable that the statement will some day be verified. At

Kar Nicobar small quantities of iron pyrites are found. The art of

working in iron is almost confined to Chaura, where the _merahtas_ and

the best spear-heads are manufactured. The latter are, however, made at

the other islands as well. Of weaving they have no knowledge, and prior

to the introduction of cotton and cloth garments they clothed themselves

in _tapa_ or cloth made of the beaten bark of a tree at present believed

to be the _Ficus brevicuspis_, also with girdles of split coconut

leaves.

They are, however, expert basketmakers, and many-shaped baskets for

various purposes are manufactured in different patterns of mesh,

entirely out of the strips of rattan, or of the bark of the _Maranta

dichotoma_.

What the sago is to the Papuan, the pandanus is to the Nicobarese, and

its luxuriant natural growth renders unnecessary any extensive

agricultural labour on his part. The other great support of life--the

coconut--once planted, thrives without further attention, and for the

rest, his fruits, bananas, and yams, require but the slightest amount of

cultivation. The implement used in all cases seems to be the _dao_ only.

The islands produce no artificial material, and no raw merchandise is

imported. Among themselves the natives trade in little more than pottery

and canoes, and the only stores or bazaars are kept by foreigners who

barter with the inhabitants. Coconuts, betel-nuts, rattan,

mother-o'-pearl shells, trepang, and edible birds' nests, are the only

trade commodities. The two latter are of minor importance, and are

collected directly by the traders; the rattan comes from Great Nicobar

only. Ambergris, for which the Nicobars were most noted in the Middle

Ages, is still found, principally in the vicinity of Nankauri Harbour,

and sold to traders.

All traders visiting the Nicobars have to obtain, either from Port Blair

or from one of the local Government Agents, a license, at a cost of 1

rupee per man of the crew, which grants them "permission to visit ...

for the purpose of trade during the present north-east monsoon season,

on the condition that no person who may proceed thither by the vessel

shall be permitted to remain behind ... after her departure."

Disagreements between the traders and natives are frequent, and, for the

most part, seem due to the dishonesty and high-handed behaviour of the

former. They get the natives into their debt--often forcing them to

accept things they do not require--falsify accounts, and even resort at

times to acts of violence for which they have incurred punishment at

Port Blair.

The merchants arrive in various kinds of vessels, from large

barquentines, brigs, brigantines, and schooners, to the _baglas_ of the

Indians and Burmese _kallus_ of 20 or 30 tons. These come mostly from

Calcutta, Bombay, Negapatam, and Moulmein. The Chinese, of course, come

in their national junks, _via_ Singapore, Acheen, or Penang.

Trade is always carried on by barter; coconuts are the standard of

value, and although dollars and rupees change hands, they are employed

by the natives more as ornaments than mediums of exchange.

The annual production of coconuts is believed to reach at the lowest

estimate, 15,000,000; about one-third of which are exported and the

remainder consumed and planted.

Except in the northern islands, there are very few paths, and those

merely tracks through grass and jungle; local transport and intervillage

communication at the central and southern islands are largely carried on

by canoe.

CHAPTER IV

DAMPIER'S SOJOURN IN GREAT NICOBAR, AND VOYAGE THENCE TO ACHEEN IN A

CANOE

I do not think any excuse is needed for here giving in full Dampier's

narrative of his experiences on Great Nicobar, and of his voyage thence

to Acheen in a native canoe.

His "Voyages" are but little read nowadays; and not only are the

chapters extracted of much interest in themselves, but they contain a

careful record of his observations on the natives and their life and

customs that, in spite of changes, is fairly accurate even for a

description of things at the present day, with which it may be compared.

Dampier's account of the Nicobars is by far the most full that we have

of the islands in past times, but I have nowhere, in any reference to

them, seen attention drawn to his adventures in their neighbourhood. His

voyage in the canoe was also a very interesting as well as a somewhat

bold undertaking, for there are times in the south-west monsoon when it

is by no means pleasant to be caught in a small open boat on that

stretch of sea, where, too, the currents run very strongly.

The fever which prostrated himself and companions on their arrival in

Sumatra was doubtless aggravated by exposure in the canoe, but was in

all probability contracted during their sojourn in Great Nicobar, for

all who spend any length of time on shore there seem certain to suffer

from it.[184]

The privateer _Cygnet of London_, Captain Swan, originally fitted out to

trade in the South Seas, in which Dampier made that part of his voyage

round the world, extending from Realejo in Western Nicaragua to the

Nicobars, had left the north-west coast of Australia on March 12, 1688,

and anchored nowhere until she reached the islands where he was

permitted to quit her.

Since Captain Swan had been left ashore at Mindanao and his place taken

by Read, it had been Dampier's continual desire to part from the vessel,

and he explains in his narrative the reasons for the captain's objection

to his desertion.

* * * * *

"... The 25th day of April 1688 we crossed the equator, still coasting

to the northward, between the island Sumatra and a range of small

islands lying 14 or 15 leagues off it....

"The 29th we saw a sail to the north of us, which we chased, but it

being little wind, we did not come up with her till the 30th day. Then,

being within a league of her, Captain Read went in a canoe and took her,

and brought her aboard. She was a prau with four men in her, belonging

to Achin, whither she was bound. She came from one of those coconut

islands that we passed by, and was laden with coconuts and with coconut

oil. Captain Read ordered his men to take aboard all the nuts, and as

much of the oil as he thought convenient, and then cut a hole in the

bottom of the prau and turned her loose, keeping the men prisoners.

"It was not for the lucre of the cargo that Captain Read took this

boat, but to hinder me and some others from going ashore, for he knew

that we were ready to make our escapes, if an opportunity presented

itself; and he thought that, by abusing and robbing the natives, we

should be afraid to trust ourselves amongst them. But yet this

proceeding of his turned to our greater advantage, as shall be declared

hereafter.

"May the 1st, we ran down by the north-west end of the island Sumatra,

within 7 or 8 leagues of the shore. All this west side of Sumatra which

we thus coasted along, our Englishmen at Fort St George call the west

coast simply, without adding the name Sumatra. The prisoners who were

taken the day before showed us the islands that lie off Achin Harbour,

and the channels through which ships go in; and told us also that there

was an English factory at Achin. I wished myself there, but was forced

to wait with patience till my time was come.

"We were now directing our course towards the Nicobar Islands, intending

there to clean the ship's bottom in order to make her sail well.

"The fourth day, in the evening, we had sight of one of the Nicobar

Islands. The southernmost of them lie about 40 leagues N.N.W. from the

N.W. end of the island Sumatra. The most southerly of them is Nicobar

itself, but all the cluster of islands lying south of the Andaman

Islands are called by our seamen the Nicobar Islands.

"The inhabitants of these islands have no certain converse with any

nation, but as ships pass by them they will come aboard in their praus

and offer their commodities to sale, never inquiring of what nation they

are; for all white people are alike to them. Their chiefest commodities

are ambergris and fruits.

"Ambergris is often found by the native Indians of these islands, who

know it very well; as also know how to cheat ignorant strangers with a

certain mixture like it. Several of our men bought such of them for a

small purchase. Captain Weldon also about this time touched at some of

these islands where we lay, and I saw a great deal of such ambergris

that one of his men bought there; but it was not good, having no smell

at all. Yet I saw some there very good and fragrant.

"At that island[185] where Captain Weldon was there were two friars,

sent thither to convert the Indians. One of them came away with Captain

Weldon; the other remained there still. He that came away with Captain

Weldon gave a very good character to the inhabitants of that island,

viz., that they were very honest, civil, harmless people; that they were

not addicted to quarrelling, theft, or murder; that they did marry, or

at least live as man and wife, one man with one woman, never changing

till death made the separation; that they were punctual and honest in

performing their bargains; and that they were inclined to receive the

Christian religion. This relation I had afterwards from the mouth of a

priest at Tonquin who told me that he received this information by a

letter from the friar that Captain Weldon brought away from

thence."[186]

But, to proceed:--"The 5th day of May we ran down on the west side of

the island Nicobar properly so-called, and anchored at the N.W. end of

it, in a small bay, in 8 fathoms water, not half a mile from the shore.

The body of this island is in 7 deg. 30' N. lat.[187] It is about 12 leagues

long, and 3 or 4 broad. The south end of it is pretty high, with steep

cliffs against the sea; the rest of the island is low, flat, and

even.[188] The mould of it is black and deep, and it is very well

watered with small running streams. It produceth abundance of tall

trees, fit for any uses; for the whole bulk of it seems to be but one

entire grove. But that which adds most to its beauty off at sea, are the

many spots of coconut trees which grow round it in every small bay. The

bays are half a mile or a mile long, more or less, and these bays are

intercepted or divided from each other with as many little rocky points

of woodland.

"As the coconut trees do thus grow in groves, fronting to the sea, in

the bays, so there is another sort of fruit-tree in the bays, bordering

on the back side of the coco trees, farther from the sea. It is called

by the natives a melory tree.[189] This tree is as big as our large

apple trees, and as high. It hath a blackish[190] rind and a pretty

broad leaf. The fruit is as big as the bread-fruit[191] at Guam, or a

large penny loaf. It is shaped like a pear, and hath a pretty tough

smooth rind of a light-green colour. The inside of the fruit is in

substance much like an apple, but full of small strings as big as brown

thread. I did never see of these trees anywhere but here.

"The natives of this island are tall, well-limbed men; pretty long

visaged, with black eyes; their noses middle-proportioned, and the whole

symmetry of their faces agreeing very well. Their hair is black and

lank, and their skins of a dark copper colour. The women have no hair on

their eyebrows. I do believe it is plucked up by the roots, for the men

had hair growing on their eyebrows as other people.

"The men go all naked; only a long, narrow piece of cloth or sash,

which, going round their waists, and thence down between their thighs,

is brought up behind and tucked-in at that part which goes about the

waist. The women have a kind of a short petticoat, reaching from their

waists to their knees.

"Their language was different from any that I ever heard before; yet

they had some few Malayan words, and some of them had a word or two of

Portuguese, which, probably, they might learn aboard of their ships

passing by this place; for when these men see a sail, they do presently

go aboard of them in their canoes. I did not perceive any form of

religion that they had; they had neither temple or idol, nor any manner

of outward veneration to any deity, that I did see.

"They inhabit all round the island by the seaside, in the bays, there

being four or five houses, more or less in each bay. Their houses are

built on posts, as the Mindanayans. They are small, low, and of a square

form. There is but one room in each house, and this room is about 8 feet

from the ground; and from thence the roof is raised about 8 feet higher.

But instead of a sharp ridge, the top is exceeding neatly arched with

small rafters about the bigness of a man's arm, bent round like a

half-moon, and very curiously thatched with palmetto leaves.[192]

"They live under no government that I could perceive, for they seem to

be equal, without any distinction; every man ruling in his own house.

Their plantations are only those coconut trees which grow by the

seaside, there being no cleared land farther in on the island; for I

observed that when past the fruit-trees, there were no paths to be seen

going into the woods. The greatest use which they make of their

coco-trees is to draw toddy from them, of which they are very fond.

"The melory trees seem to grow wild. They have great earthen pots to

boil the melory fruit in, which will hold 12 or 14 gallons. These pots

they fill with the fruit, and, putting in a little water, they cover the

mouth of the pot with leaves to keep the steam while it boils. When the

fruit is soft, they peel off the rind and the pulp from the strings,

with a flat stick made like a knife, and then make it up into great

lumps as big as a Holland cheese, and then it will keep six or seven

days. It looks yellow, and tastes well, and is their chiefest food; for

they have no yams, potatoes, rice nor plantains (except a very few), yet

they have a few small hogs, and a very few cocks and hens like ours.

The men employ themselves in fishing, but I did not see much fish that

they got; every house hath at least two or three canoes belonging to it,

which they draw up ashore.

"The canoes that they go fishing in are sharp at both ends, and both the

sides and the bottom are very thin and smooth. They are shaped somewhat

like the praus at Guam, with one side flattish and the other with a

pretty big belly; and they have small slight outlayers[193] on one side.

Being thus thin and light, they are better managed with oars than with

sails: yet they sail well enough, and are steered with a paddle. There

commonly go twenty or thirty men in one of these canoes; and seldom

fewer than nine or ten. Their oars are short, and they do not paddle,

but row with them as we do.[194] The benches they sit on when they row

are made of split bamboos laid across, and so near together that they

look like a deck. The bamboos lie movable: so that when any go in to row

they take up a bamboo in the place where they would sit, and lay it by

to make room for their legs. The canoes of those of the rest of these

islands were like those of Nicobar, and probably they were alike in

other things; for we saw no difference at all in the natives of them who

came hither while we were here.

"But, to proceed with our affairs: it was, as I said before, the 5th day

of May, about ten in the morning, when we anchored at this island.

Captain Read immediately ordered his men to heel the ship, in order to

clean her, which was done this day and the next. All the water-vessels

were filled; they intended to go to sea at night, for the winds being

yet at N.N.E., the captain was in hopes to get over to Cape Comorin

before the wind shifted. Otherwise it would have been somewhat difficult

for him to get thither, because the westerly monsoon was not at hand.

"I thought now was my time to make my escape, by getting leave, if

possible, to stay here: for it seemed not very feasible to do it by

stealth, and I had no reason to despair of getting leave, this being a

place where my stay could, probably, do the crew no harm, should I

design it. Indeed, one reason that put me on the thoughts of staying at

this particular place, besides the present opportunity of leaving

Captain Read, which I did always intend to do as soon as I could, was

that I had here also a prospect of advancing a profitable trade for

ambergris with these people, and of gaining a considerable fortune to

myself. For in a short time I might have learned their language, and by

accustoming myself to row with them in their praus or canoes--especially

by conforming myself to their customs and manners of living--should have

seen how they got their ambergris, and have known what quantities they

got, and the time of the year when it most is found. And then afterwards

I thought it would be easy for me to have transported myself from

thence, either in some ship that passed that way, whether English, Dutch

or Portuguese, or else to have gotten one of the young men of the island

to have gone with me in one of their canoes to Achin, and there to have

furnished myself with such commodities as I found most coveted by them,

and therewith, at my return, to have bought their ambergris.

"I had, till this time, made no open show of going ashore here; but now,

the water being filled and the ship in readiness to sail, I desired

Captain Read to set me ashore on this island. He, supposing that I could

not go ashore in a place less frequented by ships than this, gave me

leave; which possibly he would have refused to have done if he thought I

should have gotten from hence in any short time, for fear of my giving

an account of him to the English or Dutch. I soon got up my chest and

bedding, and immediately got some to row me ashore, for fear lest his

mind should change again.

"The canoe that brought me ashore landed me on a small sandy bay, where

there were two houses, but no person in them. For the inhabitants were

removed to some other house, probably for fear of us; because the ship

was close by: and yet both men and women came aboard the ship without

any sign of fear. When our ship's canoe was going aboard again, they met

the owner of the houses coming ashore in his boat. He made a great many

signs to them to fetch me off again, but they would not understand him.

Then he came to me, and offered his boat to carry me off, but I refused

it. Then he made signs to me to go up into the house, and, according as

I did understand him by his signs, and a few Malayan words that he used,

he intimated that somewhat would come out of the woods in the night,

when I was asleep, and kill me, meaning, probably, some wild beast. Then

I carried my chest and clothes up into the house.

"I had not been ashore an hour before Captain Teat and one John Damerel,

with three or four men more, came to fetch me aboard again. They need

not have sent an armed _posse_ for me, for had they but sent the

cabin-boy ashore for me, I would not have denied going aboard. For

though I could have hid myself in the woods, yet then they would have

abused, or have killed, some of the natives, purposely to incense them

against me. I told them, therefore, that I was ready to go with them,

and went aboard with all my things.

"When I came aboard, I found the ship in an uproar; for there were three

men more, who, taking courage by my example, desired leave also to

accompany me. One of these was the surgeon, Mr Coppinger, the other was

Mr Robert Hall, and one named Ambrose--I have forgot his surname. These

men had always harboured the same designs as I had. The two last were

not much opposed, but Captain Read and his crew would not part with the

surgeon. At last the surgeon leaped into the canoe, and, taking up my

gun, swore he would go ashore, and that if any man did oppose it, he

would shoot him. But John Oliver, who was the quarter-master, leaped

into the canoe, taking hold of him, took away the gun, and with the help

of two or three more, they dragged him again into the ship.

"Then Mr Hall, and Ambrose, and I were again sent ashore; and one of the

men that rowed us ashore stole an axe and gave it to us, knowing it was

a good commodity with the Indians. It was now dark, therefore we lighted

a candle, and I, being the oldest stander in our new country, conducted

them into one of the houses, where we did presently hang up our

hammocks. We had scarce done this before the canoe came ashore again,

and brought the four Malayan men belonging to Achin (which we took in

the prau we took off Sumatra), and the Portuguese that came to our ship

out of the Siam junk at Pulo Condore: the crew having no occasion for

these, being leaving the Malayan parts where the Portuguese spark served

as an interpreter; and not fearing now that the Achinese could be

serviceable to us in bringing us over to their country, 40 leagues off;

not imagining we durst make such an attempt; as, indeed, it was a bold

one. Now we were men enough to defend ourselves against the natives of

the island, if they should prove our enemies; though if none of these

men had come ashore to me, I should not have feared any danger. Nay,

perhaps less, because I should have been cautious of giving any offence

to the natives: and I am of the opinion that there are no people in the

world so barbarous as to kill a single person that falls accidentally

into their hands, or comes to live among them, except they have been

injured by some outrage or violence committed against them. Yet, even

then, or afterwards, if a man could but preserve his life from their

first rage, and come to treat with them (which is the hardest thing,

because their way is usually to abscond, and rushing suddenly on their

enemy, to kill him unawares), one might by some slight, insinuate

oneself into their favours again. Especially by showing some toy or

knack that they did never see before, which any European that hath seen

the world might soon contrive to amuse them withal: as might be done

generally with a little fire struck with a flint and steel....

"As for these Nicobar people, I found them affable enough, and therefore

I did not fear them; but I did not much care whether I had gotten any

more company or no.

"But, however, I was very well satisfied, and the rather because we were

now men enough to row ourselves over to the island Sumatra; and

accordingly we presently consulted how to purchase a canoe from the

natives.

"It was a fine clear moonlight night in which we were left ashore,

therefore we walked in the sandy bay to watch when the ship would weigh

and be gone, not thinking ourselves secure in our new gotten liberty

till then. About eleven or twelve o'clock we saw her under sail, and

then we returned to our chamber, and so to sleep; this was the 6th of

May.

"The next morning betimes, our landlord with four or five of his friends

came to see his new guests, and was somewhat surprised to see so many of

us, for he knew of no more than myself. Yet he seemed to be very well

pleased, and entertained us with a large calabash of toddy which he

brought with him. Before he went away again (for wheresoever we came

they left their houses to us, but whether out of fear or superstition I

know not) we bought a canoe of his for an axe, and we did presently put

our chests and clothes in it, designing to go to the south end of the

island, and be there till the monsoon shifted, which we expected every

day.

"When our things were stowed away, we with the Achinese entered with joy

into our new frigate, and launched off from the shore. We were no sooner

off but our canoe overset, bottom upwards. We preserved our lives well

enough by swimming, and dragged also our chests and clothes ashore; but

all our things were wet. I had nothing of value but my journal and some

drafts of land of my own taking, which I much prized, and which I had

hitherto carefully preserved: Mr Hall had also such another cargo of

books and drafts, which were now like to perish. But we presently opened

our chests and took out our books, which, with much ado, we did

afterwards dry; but some of our drafts that lay loose in our chests were

spoiled.

"We lay here afterwards three days, making great fires to dry our books.

The Achinese in the meantime fixed our canoe with outlayers on each

side; and they also cut a good mast for her, and made a substantial sail

with mats.

"The canoe being now very well fixed, and our books and clothes dry, we

launched out the second time, and rowed towards the east side of the

island, leaving many islands to the north of us. The Indians of the

island accompanied us with eight or ten canoes against our desire; for

we thought that these men would make provision dearer at that side of

the island we were going to, by giving an account what rates we gave for

it at the place from whence we came, which was owing to the ships being

there, for the ship's crew were not so thrifty in bargaining (as they

seldom are) as single persons or a few men might be apt to be who would

keep to one bargain. Therefore, to hinder them from going with us, Mr

Hall scared one canoe's crew by firing a shot over them; they all leaped

overboard and cried out, but seeing us row away they got into their

canoe again and rowed after us.

"The firing of that gun made all the inhabitants of the island to be our

enemies. For presently after this we put ashore at a bay where were four

houses and a great many canoes; but they all went away, and came near to

us no more for several days. We had then a great loaf of melory, which

was our constant food; and if we had a mind to coconuts or toddy, our

Malayans of Achin would climb the trees and fetch as many nuts as we

would have, and a good pot of toddy every morning. Thus we lived till

our melory was almost spent; being still in hopes that the natives would

come to us, and sell it as they had formerly done. But they came not to

us; nay, they opposed us wherever we came, and after shaking their

lances at us, made all the show of hatred that they could invent.

"At last, when we saw that they stood in opposition to us, we resolved

to use force to get some of their food, if we could not get it other

ways. With this resolution, we went in our canoe to a small bay on the

north part of the island, because it was smooth water there, and good

landing; but on the other side, the wind being yet on that quarter, we

could not land without jeopardy of oversetting our canoe, and wetting

our arms, and then we must have lain at the mercy of our enemies, who

stood, 200 or 300 men in every bay where they saw us coming, to keep us

off.[195]

"When we set out we rowed directly to the north end, and presently were

followed by seven or eight of their canoes. They, keeping at a distance,

rowed away faster than we did, and got to the bay before us; and there,

with about twenty more canoes full of men, they all landed and stood to

hinder us from landing. But we rowed in within 100 yards of them. Then

we lay still, and I took up my gun and presented at them, at which they

all fell down flat on the ground. But I turned myself about, and to show

that we did not intend to harm them, I fired my gun off to sea, so that

they might see the shot graze on the water. As soon as my gun was loaded

again, we rowed gently in; at which some of them withdrew. The rest,

standing up, did still cut and hew the air, making signs of their

hatred; till I once more frightened them with my gun, and discharged it

as before. Then more of them sneaked away, leaving only five or six men

on the bay. Then we rowed in again, and Mr Hall, taking his sword in his

hand, leaped ashore; and I stood ready with my gun to fire at the

Indians if they had injured him, but they did not stir, till he came to

them, and saluted them.

"He shook them by the hand, and by such signs of friendship as he made,

the peace was concluded, ratified, and confirmed by all that were

present; and others that were gone were again called back, and they all

very joyfully accepted of a peace. This became universal all over the

island, to the great joy of the inhabitants. There was no ringing of

bells, nor bonfires made, for that is not the custom here, but gladness

appeared in their countenances, for now they could go out and fish again

without fear of being taken. This peace was not more welcome to them

than to us; for now the inhabitants brought their melory again to us,

which we bought for old rags and small strips of cloth as broad as the

palm of one's hand. I did not see above five or six hens, for they have

but few on the island. At some places we saw some small hogs, which we

could have bought of them reasonably; but we would not offend our

Achinese friends, who were Mahometans.

"We stayed here two or three days, and then rowed towards the south end

of the island, keeping on the east side, and we were kindly received by

the natives wherever we came. When we arrived at the south end of the

island, we fitted ourselves with melory and water. We bought three or

four loaves of melory, and about twelve large coconut shells that had

all kernel taken out, yet were preserved whole, except only a small hole

at one end; and all these held for us about 3-1/2 gallons of water. We

bought also two or three bamboos that held about 4 or 5 gallons more.

This was our sea-store.

"We now designed to go to Achin, a town on the N.W. end of the island

Sumatra, distant from hence about 40 leagues, bearing S.S.E. We only

waited for the western monsoon, which we had expected a great while, and

now it seemed to be at hand; for the clouds began to hang their heads to

the eastward, and at last moved gently that way, and though the wind was

still at east, yet this was an infallible sign that the western monsoon

was nigh.

(Ch. xviii.).--"It was the 15th day of May 1688, about four o'clock in

the afternoon, when we left Nicobar Island, directing our course towards

Achin, being eight men of us in company, viz., three English, four

Malayans who were born at Achin, and the mongrel Portuguese.

"Our vessel, the Nicobar canoe, was not one of the biggest, nor of the

least size. She was much about the burthen of one of our London wherries

below Bridge, and built sharp at both ends, like the forepart of a

wherry. She was deeper than a wherry, but not so broad, and was so thin

and light that when empty four men could launch her or hale her ashore

on a sandy bay. We had a good substantial mast, and a mat sail, and good

outlayers lashed very fast and firm on each side the vessel, being made

of strong poles. So that while these continued firm, the vessel could

not overset, which she would easily have done without them, and with

them too, had they not been made very strong; and we were therefore much

beholden to our Achinese companions for this contrivance.

"These men were none of them so sensible of the danger as Mr Hall and

myself, for they all confided so much in us, that they did not so much

as scruple anything we did approve of. Neither was Mr Hall so well

provided as I was, for before we left the ship, I had purposely

consulted our draft of the East Indies (which we had but one in the

ship), and out of that I had written in my pocket-book an account of the

bearing and distance of all the Malacca coast, and that of Sumatra,

Pegu, and all Siam, and also brought away with me a pocket compass for

my direction in any enterprise that I should undertake.

"The weather at our setting out was very fair, clear, and hot. The wind

was still at S.E., a very small breeze, just fanning the air, and the

clouds were moving gently from west to east, which gave us hopes that

the winds were either at west already abroad at sea, or would be so in a

very short time. We took this opportunity of fair weather, being in

hopes to accomplish our voyage to Achin before the western monsoon was

set in strong, knowing that we should have very blusterous weather after

this fair weather, especially at the first-coming of the western

monsoon.

"We rowed, therefore, away to the southward, supposing that when we were

clear from the island we should have a true wind, as we call it; for the

land hales the wind; and we often find the wind at sea different from

what it is near the shore. We rowed with four oars, taking our time. Mr

Hall and I steered also by turns, for none of the rest were capable of

it. We rowed the first afternoon and the night ensuing about 12 leagues

by my judgment. Our course was S.S.E.; but the 16th day, in the morning,

when the sun was an hour high, we saw the island whence we came, bearing

N.W. by N. Therefore I found we had gone a point more to the east than

I intended, for which reason we steered S. by E.

"In the afternoon at four o'clock we had a gentle breeze at W.S.W.,

which continued so till nine, all which time we laid down our oars, and

steered away S.S.E. I was then at the helm, and I found by the ripplings

of the sea that there was a strong current against us. It made a great

noise that might be heard half a mile. At nine o'clock it fell calm, and

so continued till ten. Then the wind sprung up again, and blew a fresh

breeze all night.

"The 17th day, in the morning, we looked out for the island Sumatra,

supposing that we were now within 20 leagues of it, and the distance

from Nicobar to Achin is 40 leagues. But we looked in vain for the

island Sumatra, for, turning ourselves about we saw, to our grief,

Nicobar Island lying W.N.W., and not above 8 leagues distant. By this it

was visible that we had met a very strong current against us in the

night. But the wind freshened on us, and we made the best use of it

while the weather continued fair. At noon we had an observation of the

sun; my lat. was 6 deg. 55', and Mr Hall's was 7 deg. N.

"The 18th day the wind freshened on us again, and the sky began to be

clouded. It was indifferent clear till noon, and we thought to have had

an observation; but we were hindered by the clouds that came on the face

of the sun when it came on the meridian. This oftens happens, that we

are disappointed of making observations by the sun's being clouded at

noon, though it shines clear both before and after, especially in places

near the sun; and this obscuring of the sun at noon is commonly sudden

and unexpected, and for about half an hour or more.

"We had then also a very ill passage (presage?), by a great circle about

the sun (five or six times the diameter of it), which seldom appears but

storms of wind, or much rain, ensue. Such circles about the moon are

more frequent, but of less import. We do commonly take great notice of

these that are about the sun, observing if there be any breach in the

circle, and in what quarter the breach is; for from thence we commonly

find the greatest stress of the wind will come. I must confess that I

was a little anxious at the sight of the circle, and wished heartily

that we were near some land. Yet I showed no sign of it to discourage my

consorts, but made a virtue of necessity, and put a good countenance on

the matter.

"I told Mr Hall that if the wind became too strong and violent, as I

feared it would, it being even then very strong, we must of necessity

steer away before the wind and sea till better weather presented; and

that as the winds were now, we should, instead of about 20 leagues to

Achin, be driven 60 or 70 to the coast of Cudda or Queda (Kedah) a

kingdom and town and harbour of trade on the coast of Malacca.

"The winds, therefore, bearing very hard, we rolled up the foot of our

sail on a pole fastened to it, and settled our yard within 3 feet of the

canoe sides, so that we had now but a small sail; yet it was still too

big considering the winds, for the wind being on our broadside, pressed

her down very much, though supported by her outlayers, in so much that

the poles of the outlayers going from the sides of the vessel bent as if

they would break; and should they have broken, our overturning and

perishing had been inevitable. Besides, the sea increasing, would soon

have filled the sea this way. Yet thus we made a shift to bear up with

the side of the vessel against the wind for a while; but the wind still

increasing about one o'clock in the afternoon, we put right away before

wind and sea, continuing to run thus all the afternoon and part of the

night ensuing. The wind continued increasing all the afternoon, and the

sea still swelled higher, and often broke, but did us no damage; for the

ends of the vessel being very narrow, he that steered received and broke

the sea on his back, and so kept it from coming in so much as to

endanger the vessel: though much water would come in, which we were

forced to keep heaving out continually. And by this time we saw it was

well we had altered our course, every wave would else have filled and

sunk us, taking the side of the vessel; and though our outlayers were

well lashed down to the canoe's bottom with rattans, yet they must

probably have yielded to such a sea as this, when even before they were

plunged under water, and bent like twigs.

"The evening of this 18th day was very dismal. The sky looked very

black, being covered with dark clouds; the wind blew hard, and the seas

ran high. The sea was already roaring in a white foam about us; a dark

night coming on, and no land in sight to shelter us, and our little ark

in danger to be swallowed by every wave; and what was worst of all, none

of us thought ourselves prepared for another world. The reader may

better guess than I can express, the confusion that we were all in. I

had been in many eminent dangers before now, some of which I have

already related, but the worst of them all was a play-game in comparison

with this. I must confess I was in great conflicts of mind at this time.

Other dangers came not upon me with such a leisurely and dreadful

solemnity. A sudden skirmish or engagement or so was nothing when one's

blood was up, and pushed forward with eager expectations. But here I had

a lingering view of approaching death, and little or no hopes of

escaping it; and I must confess that my courage, which I had hitherto

kept up, failed me here; and I made very sad reflections of my former

life, and looked back with horror and detestation on actions which

before I disliked, and I now trembled at the remembrance of. I had long

before this repented me of that roving course of life, but never with

such concern as now. I did also call to mind many miraculous acts of

God's providence towards me in the whole course of my life, of which

kind I believe few men have met with the like. For all these I returned

thanks in a peculiar manner, and this once more desired God's

assistance, and composed my mind as well as I could in the hopes of it;

and, as the event showed, I was not disappointed of my hopes.

"Submitting ourselves, therefore, to God's good providence, and taking

all care we could to preserve our lives, Mr Hall and I took turns to

steer, and the rest took turns to heave out the water, and thus we

provided to spend the most doleful night I ever was in. About ten

o'clock it began to thunder, lighten, and rain; but the rain was very

welcome to us, having drank up all the water we brought from the island.

"The wind at first blew harder than before, but within half an hour it

abated and become more moderate, and the sea also assuaged of its fury;

and then by a lighted match, of which we kept a piece burning on

purpose, we looked on our compass to see how we steered, and found our

course to be still east. We had no occasion to look on the compass

before, for we steered right before the wind, which if it shifted we had

been obliged to have altered our course accordingly. But now it being

abated, we found our vessel lively enough, with that small sail which

was then aboard, to hale our former course S.S.E., which accordingly we

did, being now in hopes again to get to the island Sumatra.

"But about two o'clock in the morning of the 19th day, we had another

gust of wind, with much thunder, lightning, and rain, which lasted till

day, and obliged us to put before the wind again, steering thus for

several hours. It was very dark, and the hard rain soaked us so

thoroughly that we had not one dry thread about us. The rain chilled us

extremely: for any fresh water is much colder than that of the sea. For

even in the coldest climates the sea is warm, and in the hottest

climates the rain is cold and unwholesome for man's body. In this wet

starveling plight we spent the tedious night. Never did poor mariners on

a lee-shore more earnestly long for the dawning light than we did now.

At length the day appeared, but with such dark black clouds near the

horizon, that the first glimpse of the dawn appeared 30 or 40 degrees

high, which was dreadful enough: for it is a common saying among seamen,

and true, as I have experienced, that a high dawn will have high winds,

and a low dawn small winds.

"We continued our course still east, before wind and sea, till about

eight o'clock in the morning of the 19th day; and then one of our

Malayan friends cried out, Pulo Way. Mr Hall and Ambrose and I thought

the fellow had said Pull away! an expression usual among English seamen

when they are rowing. And we wondered what he meant by it, till we saw

him point to his consorts; and then we looking that way, saw land

appearing, like an island, and all our Malayan friends said it was an

island at the N.W. end of Sumatra, called Way, for Pulo Way is the

island Way. We who were dropping with wet, cold, and hungry, were all

overjoyed at the sight of the land, and presently marked its bearing. It

bore south, and the wind was still at west, a strong gale, but the sea

did not run so high as in the night. Therefore we trimmed our small sail

no bigger than an apron, and steered with it. Now our outlayers did us a

great kindness again, for although we had but a small sail, yet the wind

was strong and pressed down our vessel's side very much. But being

supported by the outlayers, we could brook it well enough, which

otherwise we could not have done.

"About noon we saw more land beneath the supposed Pulo Way, and steering

towards it, before night we saw the coast of Sumatra, and found the

errors of our Achinese; for the high land that we first saw, which then

appeared like an island, was not Pulo Way, but a great high mountain on

the island Sumatra, called by the English the Golden Mountain. Our wind

continued till about seven o'clock at night, then it abated, and at ten

o'clock it died away; and then we stuck to our oars again, though all of

us quite tired with our former fatigues and hardships.

"The next morning, being the 20th day, we saw all the low land plain,

and judged ourselves not above 8 leagues off. About eight o'clock in the

morning we had the wind again at west, a fresh gale, and steering in

still for the shore, at five o'clock in the afternoon we run to the

mouth of a river on the island Sumatra, called Passange Jonca (Pasangan

River).[196] It is 34 leagues to the eastward of Achin and 6 leagues to

the west of Diamond Point, which makes with three angles of a rhombus,

and is low land.

"Our Malayans were very well acquainted here, and carried us to a small

fishing village within a mile of the river's mouth, called also by the

name of the River Passange Jonca.[197] The hardships of this voyage,

with the scorching heat of the sun at our first setting-out, and the

cold rain, with our continuing wet for the last two days, cast us all

into fevers, so that now we were not able to help each other, nor so

much as to get our canoe up to the village; but our Malayans got some of

the townsmen to bring her up.... The Malayans that accompanied us from

Nicobar separated themselves from us now, living at one end of the house

by themselves, for they were Mahometans, as all those of the kingdom of

Achin are; and though during our passage by the sea together we made

them be content to drink their water out of the same coco-shell as us,

yet being now no longer under that necessity, they again took up their

accustomed niceness and reservedness. They all lay sick, and as their

sickness increased, one of them threatened us that if any of them died,

the rest would kill us for having brought them this voyage; yet I

question whether they would have attempted it, or the country people

have suffered it. We made a shift to dress our own food, for none of

these people, though they were very kind in giving us anything that we

wanted, would yet come near us to assist us in dressing our victuals.

Nay, they would not touch anything that we used. We had all fevers, and

therefore took turns to dress victuals according as we had strength to

do it, or stomachs to eat it. I found my fever to increase, and my head

so distempered that I could scarce stand; therefore I whetted and

sharpened my penknife in order to let myself blood, but I could not, for

my knife was too blunt.

"We stayed here ten or twelve days, in hopes to recover our health, but

finding no amendment, we desired to go to Achin.... The natives ...

provided a large prau to carry us thither, we not being able to manage

our own canoe. Besides, before this, three of our Malayan comrades were

gone very sick into the country, and only one of them and the

Portuguese remained with us, accompanying us to Achin, and they both as

sick as we....

"Three days after our arrival here (Achin) our Portuguese died of a

fever. What became of our Malayans I know not. Ambrose lived not long

after; Mr Hall also was so weak that I did not think he would recover. I

was the best, but still very sick of a fever, and little likely to live.

Therefore Mr Driscol (an Irishman, and a resident in the factory which

our East India Company had there then) and some other Englishmen

persuaded me to take some purging physic of a Malayan doctor. I took

their advice, being willing to get ease; but after three doses (each a

large calabash of nasty stuff), finding no amendment, I thought to

desist from my physic, but was persuaded to take one dose more, which I

did, and it wrought so violently that I thought it would have ended my

days. It working so quick with me ... and my strength being almost

spent, I even threw myself down once for all.... I thought my Malayan

doctor, whom they so much commended, would have killed me outright. I

continued extraordinary weak for some days after his drenching me thus;

but my fever left me for above a week, after which it returned upon me

again for a twelvemonth, and a flux with it."

CHAPTER V

AN OLD ACCOUNT OF KAR NICOBAR

In 1778 Kar Nicobar was visited by Dr I. G. Koenig, a Swede, and pupil

of Linnaeus. He spent many years in India, both as doctor to the Danish

missionaries at Tranquebar, and as naturalist to the Nabob of Arcot.

After visiting different parts of India and Ceylon, he started on an

expedition to Siam and Malacca, and as his account of the voyage will be

but little known to English readers, I have extracted from it such

portions as deal generally with the island, leaving out a quantity of

botanical matter.

A translation of all Koenig's diaries was made for the Straits Branch of

the Royal Asiatic Society, and appears in Nos. 26 and 27 of its

Journals.

The account commences with the starting of the ship _Bristol_ from

Madras on August 8, 1778, on its way to Siam.

* * * * *

"_August 31, 1778._--At 9 o'clock, land was discovered from the mast.

The sails were set and the course directed straight towards the land. A

quarter of an hour later, we could distinguish the land from the fore

deck; it rose before us like smoke, and seemed to be high and hilly.

"As we approached the land, we could from time to time distinguish some

white, sparkling spots, especially close to the summit of the mountain;

we took them to be chalk stone, but as we came nearer, we saw that they

were a peculiar kind of fields interspersed with green.

"Our captain knew this country very well: it was the first of the

Nequebar[198] islands, which is called 'Kare Nequebar.' He therefore

ordered the ship to be steered towards its north-eastern coast, in such

manner as not to come too near a stony bank stretching far into the sea.

The more we approached the land, the more agreeable it seemed to the

eye, on account of the pleasant change of wood with green fields, and

trees standing in thin rows between them. There was such perpetual

change of scenery, that it was almost impossible to believe this island

to be inhabited by uncivilized people. One field was specially

conspicuous. It reached in a slope down to the sea, and there was

bordered by a row of thinly planted trees, the waves beating against it

with great violence; in all other parts the sea was bordered by thick

trees like by a wall. After this we passed another side of the island

pretty closely, this coast not being dangerous at all, and at the same

time we came behind the wind. The ship cast anchor a quarter of a German

mile from the shore, the water being fifteen fathoms deep. It was then 3

o'clock in the afternoon.

"The country seemed to be level and flat for about one German mile, and

was thickly overgrown with trees down to the seashore. There were some

semicircular openings hewn out, in which one could perceive several

houses with thatched roofs.

"We had scarcely cast anchor, when some of the natives of Necquebar came

in their canoes; they arrived rowing in silence. Their canoes were long,

narrow, and pointed; they were hewn out of trees, the best of them

having a thin staff, about 1-1/2 man's height, right in front, at the

end of which was fastened a little flag, by means of diametrical pieces

of wood; the flag, however, was not movable, and stood out straight in

front. There were two bamboos tied to the top of the canoe, about 1 foot

apart from each other,[199] and at one side there was a kind of wing

fastened to the same, for the purpose of preventing the canoe from being

overset.

"This wing was made of two bamboo sticks as long as the eighth part of

the whole length of the boat, and to these were tied two other bamboo

sticks, which stood out at the two ends; they were twice as long as the

width of the boat, and at the end of these cross sticks another bamboo

was fastened, running parallel with the boat, and standing out as much

at the front part, as long as the pointed end of the canoe. The smaller

boats all had this arrangement, only they had no staff for the flag.

There were more than eight men rowing the big boats. Their oars were

lancet-shaped as far as the middle, and had a protruding sharp-cornered

point. They were thin and smooth, about 6 inches wide, the handle was

round and short, their whole length being about 4 feet; they were made

of a sort of brownish red wood.

"Those of the natives that came on board were mostly young, except their

captain, who was rather old; he had received a name from a European

captain, who frequently came hither, viz., Makintosh.

"Their figure is very much like that of the Malays; they had round heads

thickly covered with short coarse hair, a large forehead, round small

brown eyes, a flat nose, thick lips and large faces, big teeth red with

betel, and thin black beards; they were of a light brown colour. Their

shoulders were large, and they seemed to be muscular, their veins were

more prominent than is commonly the case with the black, their calves

were very much developed, but they were all only of medium stature.

Their clothing consisted of a piece of coarse blue linen, about three

fingers wide, which was wound several times round the lower part of

their body and taken up between the legs; some of them wore old straw

hats. At first sight the expression of their face seemed to be wild, but

one soon lost that impression; they showed few signs of any passion,

smiled in drawing their lips up on one side, and when they felt offended

they walked away without any sign of anger. The principal articles they

brought with them were coconuts. Some of them had little square boxes,

the biggest of them being one foot long; they were made from the sheaths

of the young leaves of the chamoerops,[200] and they contained many

varieties of amber[201] for sale. There were some pieces of one or two

drachms weight, and they were wrapped in leaves, among them one kind

very much resembling benzoin but not having the same odour. As much as I

could make out from the interpreter, this piece, like all the other

pieces, had been thrown on shore by the sea; it seemed to have been

burnt at one end.[202] The payment for these articles was mostly made in

tobacco or blue linen. My curiosity and longing to see the country were

very great, but the time passed with necessary arrangements in reference

to the ship and also in talking to the natives of Nacquebar. At last, at

4 o'clock the captain ordered the boat to be put out, and I set out for

the shore, feeling very glad and happy. But on nearing the land we

perceived a strong breaking of the waves against the shore. We chose a

little bay, which seemed to have sandy banks, because it was guarded on

both sides by high cliffs. A big wave seized the boat and threw it with

great violence against the shore; a second bigger wave followed, which

filled the boat, broke one of the oars, and some parts of the boat

itself, besides terrifying us greatly. I did not want to wait for the

third wave to come, but jumped down into the water, which reached up to

my waist, in order to escape a greater danger, and all I had taken with

me was soaked.

"The shore was rather steep in the beginning, and there were many little

bays, covered with a whitish-yellow sand. The above-mentioned stone

cliffs consisted of grey coarse chalkstone. Here and there big pieces of

different kinds of corals had been thrown up by the sea, among them one

kind which had the appearance of many knife-blades grown together. I do

not remember having seen any of this kind before. Higher up on the shore

there were innumerable varieties of blue, black, red, brown, and white

corals, among them also the so-called 'red organ.' I also found a

peculiar kind of very coarse sponge, and many kinds of shells were

thrown up very high; many of them had been thrown into the woods for

some little distance. The whole shore was not of a man's height, and it

almost immediately sloped down again towards the wood....

"... As it grew dark I went to one of the hamlets where about twenty

houses, most of them with pointed thatched roofs, stood on piles. The

principal houses, three in number, were placed in the middle, but each

separate from the other. They were built on piles about 10 to 12 inches

thick, and more than a man's height. Some of them had 24 to 30 of these

piles; they were bamboo, and one side was open, where a bench hung by

ropes, large enough to allow two people to sit upon, and so low, that

their feet when sitting would touch the ground. The roof of the real

dwelling-house was in some cases angularly pointed, in others rounder;

very few showed a long ridge. The access was gained by means of a narrow

well-made bamboo ladder, through a square hole, which was wide enough to

afford admission for a full-grown man; the floor consisted of broad sawn

planks of unequal length supported by the cross beams; these beams in

their turn resting on the above-mentioned piles. The big houses were

divided into storeys, the lower one being as high as two men, the upper

one was lower and more like a barn.

"Round about on the principal rafters, there were some bamboo sticks

hardly as thick as the thumb fastened across. This looked very nice; but

there were no windows at all, nor any to replace them, but the light

came only through the holes serving them for door, therefore it was very

dark. All their household implements were standing round about, mostly

tied to the bamboo; that which could not be kept in this manner had been

put into small boxes, which were one foot long, half a foot wide, and

hardly half a foot high, and were provided with lids, which were made,

as I have already said before, from the partitions sheaths of the young

chamoerops leaves. These little boxes had been tied to a bamboo, which

was fastened right across the room, and was therefore at some distance

from the roof.

"There was great cleanliness as regards the floor, and the air also was

very pure, not the faintest disagreeable odour could be detected. The

upper storey consisted only of bamboo sticks, they were thin, not tied

together, and resting on the cross beams; they had turned somewhat brown

through the smoke of the lamps, but I could not see that they kept any

provisions there, and on the whole they do not collect many provisions.

I saw some piles erected near some of the houses, they were more than

man's height, two cross piles were fastened to them, and here they

stewed some yam roots in the open air. They had no gardens, their houses

and also their outhouses stood among _Carica papaya_. Their weapons

consisted of small lances somewhat shaped like pikes, which were made of

smooth round sticks about as thick as a finger and three yards

long.[203] I saw some of them return with these kind of weapons. They

had been in the wood to fetch provisions for one or two days. I did not

see any fishing implements.

"There were two ships there, one of them an English three-master, the

second one lying further south with two masts, it was a French ship.

They were both loading coconuts, which they bought here very cheaply in

order to take them to Pegu, and to sell them there with great profit.

"Their women have almost the same appearance as their men, being strong

and muscular, but most of them had their hair shorn off. Their clothing

consisted of a blue cloth wound round their loins, or they wore an apron

made of leaves, which was cut in strips hardly one line wide, and

reached down to the knees; they were plaited together at the top and

hung round their bodies in layers almost two inches thick. These strips

seemed to have been taken from the borassi or chamoerops. Some

grown-up girls I saw here as well, their hair was cut off below the ear

and hung loosely round their head.

"However many people I saw here of different sex, I did not come across

any whom I could have termed old. The only exception was a woman,

apparently about fifty years old. The shortness of my stay here

prevented me to make further researches and inquiries, which besides

would have been very difficult considering the language and utter

simplicity of the natives. As far as I could observe they were very

vague in their ideas as regards years, months, weeks, days, and hours.

"Near one of the large houses I saw some piles; they were about ten

inches thick, square, and two and a half feet high. At the upper end

they had two holes, meeting in the middle like a cross; through them

were plaited many coloured ribbons both of linen and of cloth,

presenting the appearance of streamers; at their end there was a stick

about as high as a man, at the end of this a piece of white linen was

fastened of about two inches wide, looking like a flag; all this was

surrounded by a sort of conical figure of the sheaths of the

chamoerops, so that only in front a little piece of the streamers was

to be seen. I made inquiries as to these things, and they told me they

were monuments for the dead, and that lately three persons had died in

this house. I saw some more of the same kind of stakes which were

already old, but there was not one near every house.

"I saw some persons of both sexes wearing green fringes, and I inquired

why they were in this manner distinguished from the others; as much as I

could learn from my interpreter these were those who had held their

feast of love. This is always celebrated in the woods, never anywhere

else, and as a sign of this joy they wore these fringes; they were

really made from long pisang[204] leaves split through the middle and

fringed crossways. They are first worn round their neck, then across

their shoulders, and at last round their loins.

"My attention was attracted by a continual murmuring; I inquired into

its cause. It was the singing of some women, who wanted to cure another

of her headache. This afforded me at the same time the opportunity of

seeing the interior of their houses. I was admitted and allowed to

mount, and I found the invalid sitting on her feet, some of the women

lying near her, and four standing before her; one of them held something

in her hand, which was supposed to be some article for fumigating; I

could, however, neither see nor smell it. Their whole song consisted of

one tone, which was taken first at a very high pitch, but by repeating

it so often they slowly sank to the lowest notes, then they paused, and

one of them commenced again very high, and the others chimed in until

they had again arrived at the lowest notes. They kept on singing in this

way as long as I was there, which, however, was not very long, because

it soon grew dark. I felt the invalid's forehead, which was a little

warmer than ordinarily and covered with weak perspiration. Her hands

were also hot, and her pulse quicker than usual, which symptoms might

point to a cold in a body inclined to laziness.

"The number of children that I met here was not large either, and was

far smaller than what I had seen on the coast in villages of equal size.

I saw very few animals here; they kept some pigs near their houses, and

the pork is said to be of very good taste here, because they feed the

pigs on coconuts. There were also some small hens here, and a female

dog, very much like the pariah dogs, which I had seen on the coast, and

probably it was brought from there, only it seemed to have shorter legs

than the ordinary kind....

"... As it grew dark I left the country, where I should have liked to

stay for some days, but I feared we might not get safely through the

high waves. A _cicada_ sang in the wood in a strange manner--for me it

was a sad song. In the dark evening I picked up a little piece of

seaweed which had been thrown on shore. We were luckier than we had

feared to be as regards the starting from shore, which we left after

having explored the country for one hour and a half. After one hour's

journey both ways, we arrived on board at 7 o'clock.

"_September 1st._--Early this morning the anchors were hoisted, but

hardly had we left the land when a storm, combined with heavy showers of

rain, arose. The atmosphere was misty, and one of these stormy showers

was so violent and sudden that we almost perished. A new top-sail was

torn to pieces, the waves at the same time were uncommonly high, and the

whole sea like in a thunderstorm. I thanked God that I succeeded in

arranging the specimens which I had gathered on my journey."

CHAPTER VI

SOME CUSTOMS OF THE KAR NICOBARESE

The Feast of Exhumation--A Scene in the Graveyard--"_Katap-hang_"--

"_Kiala_"--"_Enwan-n'gi_"--Fish Charms--Canoe Offerings--"_Ramal_"--

"_Gnunota_"--Converse with the Dead--"_Kewi-apa_"--"_Maya_"--

"_Yintovna Siya_"--Exorcism--"_Tanangla_"--Other Ceremonies--The

"_Sano-kuv_"--The "_Mafai_"--The "_Tamiluana_"--_Mafai_ Ceremonies--

Burial--Mourning--Burial Scenes--The Origin of Village Gardens--

Destruction of Gardens--Eclipses--Canoe-buying--Dances--Quarrels--

"_Amok_"--Wizardry--Wizard Murders--Suicides--Land Sale and Tenure--

Dislike to Strangers--Cross-bow Accidents--Canoe Voyages--Commercial

Occupations--Tallies.

Amongst the Kar Nicobarese there are far more customs and ceremonies

than I could ascertain during a short visit, but in the following pages

an attempt has been made to chronicle all those that came to my

knowledge. Many of them were elicited by questioning Mr V. Solomon, the

Government Agent on the island, but still more are extracted from his

diaries as printed in the Supplements of the _Andaman and Nicobar

Gazette_. For the accuracy, therefore, of much of this chapter, Mr

Solomon is responsible.

Of all the observances, customs, and ceremonies of Nicobarese life, that

of _Kana Awn_, where the bones of the dead are exhumed, is perhaps the

most important. Literally it is called _Ka-al-awn_--feast of pigs'

flesh.

It is a very laborious and costly festival, commemorated every third or

fourth year, with much ceremony commingled of joy and sorrow.

All the islanders cannot observe it at one limited period, nor can the

people of one whole village do so conjointly with each other. If a few

families of a village commemorate the feast during one year, other

families will undertake it at some other convenient year, which will be

at a time when their stores are abundant, and after sufficient delay for

the bones of their deceased to become denuded of flesh.

The festival is conducted with much expenditure and demonstration, and

differs slightly in each village.

It consists of a course of ceremonies continuing from one full moon to

another, and commences as follows:--

About ten months prior to the occasion, all the people of a village

consult together to fix the festival month, and then inform the rest of

the villages, and obtain their promise of assistance. They next send

messengers to give notice to all the villages of the island of their

intentions, and bear preliminary invitations (_mahau-kare_). Of these

there are two kinds--general and special. The general invitation is

given to friends and relatives, that they may join them in the feast and

help in various respects. The special invitation is sent by one family

of the commemorators of the ceremony to the people of a whole village,

that the hosts may give a performance in their house on the occasion. If

ten families of a village commemorate the feast, they would invite the

people of ten distant villages for this purpose, while those of three

adjacent villages would be invited generally.

Their first duty, after sending out invitations, is to make a _na-kopah_

(feast for the dead). Some well-carved wooden poles, fifty or sixty feet

in height, with cross battens, are prepared and planted in the ground at

_Elpanam_, and in the village in front of the houses of the

commemorators. On these the people hang up varieties of yams and

plantains; bundles of sireh leaf; bunches of coconuts, areca-nuts,

pandanus, fruit, cheroots, and other eatables to which they are

accustomed; in all, about fifty kinds. Below the posts they place

teakwood boxes containing new clothes and jewels; bottles of toddy and

earthen pots from Chaura, all fenced in carefully. These arrangements

are decorated from top to bottom with flags, etc., until they look like

Indian processional cars. This work is the occupation of about thirty

men for three months. From the day the _na-kopah_ is commenced, the

natives are restricted from killing pigs in the village.

On these occasions they take great pains in repairing their cooking

huts, erecting new ones, and in making new roads and paths up to the

boundaries of their village in every direction. The open ground at

_Elpanam_ and the graveyard are also cleared and kept tidy, and in the

meanwhile they make every effort to secure sufficient quantities of

provisions for the festival. A month before this begins some more

_na-kopahs_, similar to the above, are prepared with fresh eatables,

which, however, are not set out until a week before the feast. When this

is done, final invitations (_mi-nga-la_) are sent to all the guests.

Besides this, a week before the opening day _kare-yeng-chon_ (headstones

of graves) are made in the following manner:--A well-shaped, round log

of wood, about 3 feet long and 9 inches in diameter, having two through

holes crossing each other near one end, is prepared and kept in

readiness. At the approach of the feast a number of men and women

together adorn it by rolling round it a piece of white calico and

fringing it with red or blue cloth. Four large soup-ladles are fastened

to the holes and to the middle of the log, a cross-shaped iron pike,

about 6 feet long, called _merahta_, ornamented with many spoons, forks

and soup-ladles,[205] is fixed. To it also are attached toys, dolls, and

fancy weapons, with other curiosities, which all add to the gorgeous

appearance of the object. Some families keep this in the newly-erected

cookhouse, others in the open yard. They particularly take the guests

and friends to see it in order to show that they are wealthy.

The men then construct, for temporary use, two or three long bamboo

cages, with separate enclosures, so that a dozen pigs may be put in each

cage. One is built underneath, and the others in front of the house.

Meanwhile, the canoes are decorated, filled with many kinds of

provisions, and drawn up in front of the houses.

All this is done with the help of friends from neighbouring villages,

who, neglecting their own affairs, willingly come and assist, even

bringing with them food sufficient for their needs until the close of

the festival.

After all these preparations are completed, there commences the

preliminary ceremony called _Vani pati_ (house decoration), which takes

place a day before the festival. The interiors of the houses are

decorated profusely with coco-palm leaves, goian (Arum) plants, and

flags. Bunches of tender coconuts, areca-nuts and plantains are tied all

about the posts of the house outside, that the guests may partake at

pleasure. Several pieces of chintz, red cloth, and calico are hung from

strings in the interior, and beneath the house as well, and the

_merahta_, with the ornamented canoes, are placed on either side of the

_na-kopah_. The bamboo pig-pens are also decorated, and when all this is

completed they kill a pig, sprinkle the blood over all as a sacrifice,

and dance and sing around the house, with their guests, for the first

time.

Now comes the first act. On the festival evening the people bring, with

songs, numbers of pigs from their jungle piggeries, and placing them in

the cages, dance before them. Those animals put in the cage beneath the

house are merely for exhibition, as a proof of wealth, though, at the

same time, they are dedicated to a future festival. In the cages outside

are left those pigs that are to be slaughtered for the present occasion,

and there is yet another cage in which are confined those brought to

them by their friends as a festive gift.

_Kiriam Hetpat_ (dancing in bright light) is the second and chief

festival. By eight or nine in the evening, the village is filled with

almost the whole of the islanders; a group of one village in one house.

The special and general guests assemble in gangs in their respective

quarters.

The men are adorned with new loin-cloths of various kinds and colours,

with the _ta-choekla_, or chaplet, and _tasses_--necklaces made of silver

coins.

The women wear necklaces, "ear-distenders," bangles--made by twisting

silver wire round arm and leg--and strings of silver coins as head

ornaments. A pair of red Madras handkerchiefs, or two yards of red cloth

and two of Chinese blue, stitched together, are worn as the principal

garment.

Some come already dressed, others bring their attire with them, and don

it on the spot.

The special guests bring ten or a dozen pigs of moderate size, as

presents to those by whom they are invited. (Here it may be said that

the people, although well acquainted in general, never call each other

friends promiscuously. Whoever contributes a gift during this festival

to another, is alone his true friend. There is a regular agreement about

this, and special invitations for any occasion are only given by turns.)

The women bring with them baskets of prepared food--pandanus bread,

boiled yams, rice--and with this, and with pork presented by the hosts,

they refresh themselves during the night.

Dancing and singing then take place. The men give their performance

first, and when they are fatigued, they make way for the women, and so

it goes on, turn and turn about. The former in their dance go through

various motions of sitting, rising, bending, and jumping, but the women

only attempt a series of steps.[206] This proceeding continues in the

compound of each festival party throughout the night.

In the morning, while dancing still continues, there are brought forward

some strong wooden cages, about 4 feet long and 3 feet in height and

breadth--some in shape like a palanquin, and some dome-shaped like the

houses. These cages are gaily decorated with flags, chintz, and gilt

jewellery. On the top of each a platform with curtains is prepared, and

on either side stout bamboo poles are fastened. A huge long-tusked boar

adorned with jewellery is placed in each cage, and a man, woman, and

boy, seat themselves on the platform with a quantity of plantains and

betel-nut.

When everything is ready, new red loin-cloth and _ta-choeklas_ are

supplied to the guests. Then the cages, with the pigs inside, and with

the people upon them, are carried round from house to house in a

procession, with singing and dancing, each borne by about forty men or

women. Those who are not able to construct a cage, carry, as a

substitute, long bamboos, across which the pig, with bound legs, is

fastened. As they proceed, betel-nuts and plantains are distributed by

those on the cages. In this way they march round the village, and return

to the starting-point, _via Elpanam_, the teams of women as they stagger

along with their heavy burden giving rise to much amusement.

When the procession is over the natives release the pigs in the cars, as

well as nearly all the others, detaining only those that are to be

slaughtered on that day for the guests. Then after felling the poles of

the _na-kopah_ by cutting them with an axe, 6 feet above the ground,

they scatter the food in the jungle and fence the site. The canoes and

other articles are broken to pieces and thrown away, and only the

_merahta_, or iron pike, is preserved, with its decorations, to be made

use of later.

Next comes _Henghawa_, meaning "In return." A dozen or more pigs of

ordinary size are distributed by the inviting party to the group of

performers. These may kill and eat them on the spot, or take them away

to their homes. This present is made in place of giving a feast. The

dancing party who receive it would, according to their own numbers, kill

a few of the pigs, cut them into pieces, and distribute the flesh among

the families of their group. They roast the pieces, eat as much as they

like, and take the remaining portions away with them. The pigs that are

not killed will also be taken to their village, and will be there

reserved for some public occasion. As a rule, the people who receive the

present must be ready to give away a similar one in their turn when the

same festival occurs in their village.

The spectacle of these people as they depart, men, women, young and old,

each with a load of roasted pork either fastened to long sticks, strung

on cords, or packed in baskets, affords further amusement.

The general guests--the people of the nearest villages--will remain till

the close of the feast to assist the hosts, and to give further

performances of dancing and singing every night. They take their share

of the food with the commemorators.

With their help the amusements are renewed, and on the following morning

the big pigs, which were carried in procession, are slaughtered and cut

into long strips, some of which, generally the spinal portions, are

suspended at the entrance of the houses, as offerings to the evil

spirits, and are there allowed to remain until the next celebration of

_Kana-Awn_. Several pieces will also be distributed to friends and

relatives.

Before these pigs are killed it is customary for young men to wrestle

with them, and many of them are often so severely gored by the long

tusks of the animals that they have to be carried away in litters.

This portion of the festival is called _Yeng Awn_--the great boar--for

each of the animals which are dedicated to the purpose is looked on as a

sacred creature, and is offered as a sacrifice in token of the last head

of the family who died.

From the remaining portions of pork they separate the fatty part and

prepare lard from it by pounding it in a wooden mortar and boiling it

down in an earthen vessel. This lard is preserved in coconut shells and

eaten with meals like butter. A few shellsfull are presented to those of

their friends who have assisted them. This portion of the ceremony is

called _Wanaka Kuv_ (making lard), and with the immediately preceding

stage lasts for four or five days. Then commences the ceremony of _Kisu

ta el pati_, during which all the decorations of the houses are removed,

and dancing and singing take place inside. This is done in order to

purify the house.

Next, the practice of _Tanang alah_ (prevention) takes place; and

throughout the day the people busy themselves covering the houses and

huts in _Elpanam_ with green coco-palm leaves, to prevent pollution by

the disinterred bones of next day's proceedings. They take their supper

in _Elpanam_, and dance there all night.

At this point, the climax of the whole is reached in _Anula Kopah_, or

_Ula Kopah_ (digging the graves). The women, children, and others stand

at a distance from the graveyard, and one or two of the adults belonging

to each of the houses commemorating, open the respective graves, remove

the bones, and throw them in an adjoining bush called _Tam n'gi

Kopah_[207]--burial-place of bones (ossuary). But they replace in the

graves the skulls of respected people or heads of families, and after

refilling the holes with earth, place over them the new _kuimitila_ or

_kare-yeng-chon_ (headstones). Before the skulls are replaced, however,

they are sprinkled with the blood of fowls and young pigs.

The men who break open the graves are termed _takkuwi_ (polluted) and

when all is over they bathe in the sea, and then spend the night in the

"house of pollution," after a period of feasting and dance in the

_Elpanam_, called _Kiriam Anula_ (digging dance).

Two or three days later the coco-palm leaves are removed from

the houses at _Elpanam_, and another performance is held called

_Kiriam-nga-rit-roi-ta-oka_ (dance for clearing up coconut rubbish).

Next morning sports and a little wrestling take place.

Finally, the people invite some of the _mafais_ of adjacent villages to

give a performance, and entertain them with gifts and feasting. This

ceremony is called _Afai tapoia_, or _Mafai tapira_--grand _mafai_

dance. When it is concluded some other village is challenged to a canoe

race, and a dance and feast follow. With this ends the festival of _Kana

Awn_.

When everything is over they carefully gather together the jawbones of

the pigs that have been killed in every house, fasten them to a long

rattan, and hang them up in the public building at _Elpanam_. In this

way a comparison is made between past and present wealth, and proof is

afforded of the splendour of a ceremony that impoverishes many of the

hosts for years to come.

The following is an account of the ceremony of _Anula_, or _Ula Kopah_,

as it was actually carried out in the village of Lapati on the east

coast of Kar Nicobar. It was preceded by the usual festival of _Kana

Awn_.

Of the _takkuwis_ (polluted ones) who were engaged in digging the

graves, the men wore white loin cloths and the women petticoats of a

similar colour. The graveyard was thickly screened by coco-palm leaves.

All the big houses in _Elpanam_, and the cooking huts in the village,

were so thickly covered with leaves that no breeze could penetrate. A

wall of palm leaves and four temporary huts were erected in each corner,

that the _takkuwis_ might take refreshment. Several pieces of white

calico and Turkey red cloth were kept in these houses for wrapping up

the bones. Those graves to be left untouched were covered with white

cloth and neatly decorated.

Whilst each grave was being opened one of the _tamiluanas_ stood at the

head and fanned it with a bunch of "devil-expelling" leaves, and another

man kept in readiness a palm-spathe and piece of white calico. When the

grave-digger took out the skull it was cleaned by hand, carefully rolled

in the calico, and placed in the spathe; all the other bones were then

collected in the same spathe, which was taken away and placed over large

yams scattered below the "deadhouse," where it was wrapped and bound

with red and white calico. About fifty graves were opened, and the bones

similarly treated. A few bundles were reinterred, but the others were

taken away to a place called _Kofente_ (place of pollution), where they

were opened, the bones thrown away and the cloth torn to rags.

After this the grave-diggers went to the sea and washed their hands and

legs, and a few bathed entirely.

* * * * *

The following is an account of the observance of _Katap-hang_, or

lighting the _Elpanam_.

For several days a number of young men and women are engaged in cleaning

out _Elpanam_. During this process they are not allowed to touch

eatables meant for others, nor may they enter the village, as they are

considered polluted while at work. When it is over the women collect all

the coconut husks they can obtain, and arrange them in lines about the

_Elpanam_ and round the houses in it.[208]

The nuts are set fire to after sunset, and the people pass the night in

singing and dancing, in several groups, lighted by the fires. Whenever

they feel tired they eat, the proper food for the occasion being

land-crabs, which have been collected during the previous week.

A spittoon of palm leaf is placed in the centre of each group, and into

it go all the cheroot ends and betel-nut quids, to prevent pollution of

the ground of _Elpanam_, which is now purified and fit for the

habitation of spirits.

During the dancing the men cover their loins with a wrapping of plantain

leaf, which makes them look like women. The women run about all night

keeping the coconut shells alight.

About five o'clock in the morning the performance comes to an end, and

then a number of women sweep out _Elpanam_, collecting the ashes and

other rubbish, which are thrown into the sea. The men, with much

excitement, take the outriggers from the canoes, and placing some of

these under the _Elpanam_ houses, bear others to the village, covering

all with palm leaves. All portable property, pots, etc., is taken out of

the houses in _Elpanam_, and, closing the doors, the people march away

to the village (only the sick and one or two attendants, and those who

dug the last grave, are left behind).

Silence has now to be observed for a month; no fire or light may be

seen, and no cheroot smoked in the place: women and children are

interdicted from entering, but should they be compelled to do so, they

must make no noise, and if at night, must leave their light at the

entrance.

The people can give no account of the origin of this observance. Some

allude to "custom," and others say that it is because so many spirits

visit the place at this season.

Thirty days after the festival concludes, a great feast is given to the

spirits, and they are sent back to the jungle.

Canoes are kept beneath the houses for several months, until the

festival of _Kiala_, or fetching food, when they are brought to the

beach at _Elpanam_, caulked, and made ready for use.

On the day of _Kiala_ the men are out all day, with hook and line,

fishing. When they return in the evening with their catch, each

immediately offers as a sacrifice to the canoe a mixture of chopped fish

and other materials, which are made into a paste and applied to the

vessel. The fish they have caught are skewered on bamboo and roasted.

Those unable to go during the day set out at night with torches prepared

for the occasion.

Next day is _Anoi-ila_, a holiday, and in the morning all assemble in

the houses at _Elpanam_ and partake collectively of the roasted fish

with other things. Then they sleep till evening, and do no work.

A day following closely is called _Enwan-n'gi_ (fishing again for the

children). As a rule, the fish caught on the first expedition is all

consumed at the general banquet, but this is taken to the houses and

eaten there. A holiday again follows.

To attract fish to their shores it is customary for the villages to

erect on the beach at _Elpanam_, when the sea is calm, a number of long

bamboos decorated with leaves, etc. This practice is called

_Ma-ya-kuv-ka-ma-ka_--Papa is going this way to fetch fish. The poles

remain for four days, and after they are removed, the large canoes

obtained at Chaura are fed (_Ngya ap_), and fowls are offered to them in

sacrifice.

Sacrifice is generally offered to these canoes thrice in each month--on

seeing the new moon, at full moon, and on the waning of the moon.

A ceremony called _Ramal_ is held in honour of the safe return of the

canoes that periodically make the customary voyages to Chaura for

pottery. It consists of feasting, dancing, and singing, as do most of

the Nicobarese observances. These songs and dances are composed some

time before the events and carefully practised during the interval.

The ceremony of _Gnunota_ is held on behalf of those drowned during this

annual voyage to Chaura, and is practised, instead of burial and the

ceremony of _Kana Awn_, on occasions when the bodies are not available.

The death of a Nicobarese when absent is regarded with much greater

concern than when such an event takes place at home. This is quite in

accordance with European feeling.

A belief that the Chaura men are great exponents of _wizardry_ is deeply

rooted throughout the group. One of the M[=u]s canoes having been lost

on the return from that island, the _tamiluanas_ told the people that

the Chaura men had a grudge against the people of M[=u]s, which,

however, they did not like to satisfy in the island, but caused the

visitors to be destroyed while at sea, by means of the black art,

through which a tempest was raised during their return voyage.

The _tamiluanas_ possess the power of conversing with the spirits of the

dead, and they informed the village that they had seen this deceased

party, who stated that they had perished from hunger, and now wanted

meals.

M[=u]s, therefore, was ordered to offer sacrifice, and accordingly the

people contributed spoons, forks, clothes, and silver wire, besides

killing pigs and preparing meals in each house.

After the sacrifice (_Gnunota_) had been made the _tamiluanas_ gave out

that all the souls were satisfied with the meals and other things, but

that "Davy Jones," the leader of the unfortunate party, was displeased

with the offering!

Feasts are partaken of, and sacrifices made in the graveyard, in honour

of deceased ancestors, whose spirits sometimes reveal themselves to the

_tamiluanas_. These occasions are called _Ma-la-hal_.

* * * * *

A series of festivals indulged in begins with a day called _Kewi-apa_.

On this day, the people of M[=u]s clear a portion of the jungle in the

interior, and decorate the spot with palm leaves, bringing from it

_Siya_--the devil--to _Elpanam_. All the houses at _Elpanam_, and the

space there, are decorated. The people of Arong (a neighbouring village)

and M[=u]s then go there and take part in a performance lasting all

night, for which they have practised during the past month. Other

villages come as spectators and guests. The next morning there is a

feast, at which special materials are pigs and jungle crabs. When it is

over, a wrestling match closes the ceremony.

On the third and following days, all the people, and those of the

neighbouring villages, are engaged in preparing for the feast of _Kial_,

to which many villages come as guests.

The day preceding the feast of _Kial_ is called _Mu-nung-ren_, or "day

of preparation." Poles are brought from the jungle, tied round the

houses at _Elpanam_, and covered with tender palm leaves, while new

cooking places are prepared below each house. The interior of the houses

and the compounds are decorated. From sunrise till dark the women are

busy preparing _kusuhu_, a confection of yams, green and ripe plantains,

coconut, and oil; and meanwhile, the men sing songs in honour of the

large canoes, which, kept for the past month in the interior, are

brought to _Elpanam_, immersed in the sea, and decorated.

Next day is the day of _Kial_, or "taking food." From morning till night

the people are engaged in feasting their guests, in dining together in

groups, and in sending to their friends and neighbours _kusuhu_, pork

and fowls.

At midday a cry of supplication is heard from each building--"Let our

house be always supplied with abundance of food; let us have many edible

gifts from other villages; let there come new women to our village; let

us be happy."

This day is one of much rejoicing, for the natives consider the _kusuhu_

one of their greatest delicacies.

Next day is called _Anoi-ila_--day of rest for the people.

Then, the eighth after _Kewi-apa_, comes the day _Ha-chu_, on which they

take back the devil to the jungle with more ceremony. Having returned

from this, they engage in a hunt, with the aid of dogs, for jungle pigs.

The day following is _Anoi-ila_; on the next, a second pig hunt takes

place; and finally, one more "day of rest" ends the festival.

* * * * *

_Maya_, or _Vani-el-kui_, means "top decoration," and for this, long

green bamboos are brought from the jungle and encircled with leaves from

top to bottom. They are then fixed round the graveyard at _Elpanam_, to

the accompaniment of ceremonies led by the _tamiluanas_, with spirit

exorcising paraphernalia.

During the three days following, the people prepare two large rafts, of

canoe shape, and equip them with sails of palm leaf, dry palm leaf

torches, and bunches of "devil-expelling" leaves. This work is done by

the young men and women, the _tamiluanas_ and other elderly people being

engaged, meanwhile, in singing by turns, through night and day, in one

of the houses at _Elpanam_. The _tamiluanas_ frequently come down and

walk along the beach with their exorcising rods, and forbid the devil to

enter the village.

The fourth day is called _Yintovna Siya_--expelling the devil by sails.

In the evening, the whole of the village assembles at _Elpanam_ with

bunches of "devil-expelling" leaves, the women with baskets of ashes in

addition.

A number of men, with an escort of _tamiluanas_, carry one of the floats

to the sea, on the right side of the cemetery, and propel it some

distance from the shore; when they return, another body of men

despatches the other craft from the left side of the graveyard. The

bearers, on reaching shore, are supplied with bundles of leaves, and as

soon as the vessels reach deep water, the women throw ashes from the

shore, and the whole crowd shouts, "Fly away, devil, fly away, never

come again." Then all the decorated bamboos are removed, one after

another, and all the leaves thrown into the sea; from each bamboo, as it

is taken down, the devil is expelled.

Should the canoes sail off toward Chaura, much rejoicing is occasioned.

One seems to contain an evil, the other a benignant spirit. The latter

may possibly return and inform the _tamiluanas_ that the devil has

reached Chaura, and in token of this, there will be found near the

graveyard a new Chaura pot, a chicken, a paddle, or similar objects.

If this occurs, there is a day of rejoicing, called _Amhai_, when pigs

and fowls are offered as a sacrifice to the conquering spirit, and a

grand feast and dance take place at night.

This is an annual ceremony, commemorated in turn by all the village, but

unfortunately, as with their other customs and ceremonies, the

islanders, whose knowledge of their origin is limited, can give no clear

reason for its inception, although there must be a perfectly adequate

one, and state only that they do it because it is "custom."

Festivals called _Maya_ and _Inturga_ are also commemorated to drive the

jungle devils into the sea.

One of the most effectual means of _exorcising devils_ is by fanning

with leaves. The M[=u]s racing canoe, having returned to the village

soon after a death had taken place there, was not received in the usual

manner. Two elderly men who were on the beach, waiting, ran down before

the canoe could touch the shore, and hurriedly brushed it, and the men

in it, with brooms. They then brought the canoe ashore, and fanned it

with coco-palm leaves, so that the dead man's ghost might not take

possession.

When the north-east monsoon sets in, the sea is very rough on the east

coast, and many people become seriously ill, the result being that there

are always a greater number of deaths than usual in that part of the

island.

All the villages there situated accordingly take in hand the process of

_Tanangla_, which signifies "support" or "prevention."

In this, they fence _Elpanam_ with palm leaves, and festoon the houses

and pathways with various kinds of shrubs and grasses. They also prepare

huge images in human form, by twisting palm leaves round logs of wood,

and place these about their houses.

An old man lost his teeth, and to celebrate the fact, gave a great feast

to a large body of people who came to it from other villages. The giver

was adorned with silver wire from head to foot, and made to sit in a

_kantera_ (_mafai's_ chair) in honour of his departed grinders.

A man was bitten by a snake, with serious consequences. When he

recovered, he invited his friends to a feast, and performed the ceremony

of _Ke luing alaa_, which consisted in waving a lighted palm-leaf torch

round his head.

* * * * *

The natives apparently possess the right to assume various social

distinctions at will.

There is a class of men termed _Sanokuv_ which numbers many individuals

in its ranks. _Sanokuv_ seems to mean a bashful or delicate person.

These men will not eat any food cooked by others, neither will they use

well-water, nor partake of pigs and chickens reared in the village, as

they consider these unclean. The water they require they obtain either

from a jungle stream, or by collecting rain. They will not drink toddy

made from trees near the village, but draw it from distant palms.

Everything is partaken of from special vessels; toddy is sucked from a

bamboo through a reed, of which the mouth-end is capped with a larger as

soon as the drink is finished. They are, however, willing to accept

bread, biscuits, and rum from others, but the latter is drunk from a new

coconut shell, and never from a glass.

The whole proceeding seems to be a variant of the Hindu institution of

_caste_.

The _Mafai_ is another peculiarity of the Nicobar social organisation.

The Kar Nicobarese take great interest in the creation of _mafais_, and

in conducting _mafai_ performances. They give much of their property,

time, and labour to a _mafai_, and look on him as somewhat sacred. He

is a man who, recovering from a serious illness, decides to do no work

for some time to come; in fact, he continues to be an invalid, and

henceforth neither obtains nor cooks food, but is supported by the

community.

The word _mah_ means "sir," and is used to indicate one who is a

superior, and is employed as a term of respect towards men and women of

some age: the chief of a village, the head of a family, or parents, are

styled _mah_. _Fai_ means "inspired." _Mafai_ therefore means "an

inspired man," _i.e._, a seer.

A person may at the first stage of his recovery from a severe and

long-standing illness, or an attack of delirium, inform his relatives

that he has received a revelation, and therefore desires to become a

_mafai_. This is communicated to the _tamiluanas_, and they, as well as

other elderly people of the village, assemble in his house, and after

making a formal examination, pronounce the verdict, _tafuknu

chuat_--"sunken eyes."

A preliminary ceremony is then performed, called _Hanata_--"adorning the

invalid." They spread round his couch "devil-expelling" leaves from

_Mal_,[209] and decorate the cane wall of the house, at his side, with

festoons, tassels, beads, wire, garlands, etc., placing near him spoons,

forks, and other electro-plated ware, with a few bottles of toddy.

They twist silver wire about his neck, arms, and legs, and adorn him

with necklaces, tassels, breastplate, and armlets, made of silver coins,

and then place him in a large decorated chair with a Chinese straw hat

on his head. A silver-handled stick (sceptre of the _tamiluana_) and a

small dagger to kill the devil are given him, together with a bottle of

toddy, furnished with a hollow reed to suck the liquid through.

He is now proclaimed a _mafai_, and information is sent to his friends

and relatives in other villages, who all come with presents to see the

holy man.

From this time forward, until he is thoroughly recovered, the people of

his village, with other friends and relatives, provide his food and

other necessaries by turns. This they do on a liberal scale.

There is a performance every night in the village, lasting till

midnight, during which he sits on a chair in the midst of the ring of

dancers, whom sometimes he may join. This exercise is to increase his

strength, and he is freely supplied with toddy, as it is considered a

tonic.

From time to time his neighbours take him, sometimes spontaneously and

sometimes by invitation, from house to house and village to village, in

procession, and give performances. _Ai-yu-a-kare_ is one of these, and

means "going to a feast adorned with jewels."

He never walks, but is always carried in a _kantera_ (chair), which in

shape resembles a palanquin, covered with chintz and decorated with

spoons, forks, and soup-ladles. The chair is borne by a dozen strong

men. The spectacle of a returning _mafai_ and his party is extremely

comical, for, besides being fatigued by the night's exertions, every one

is completely intoxicated.

The people venerate the _mafai_ exceedingly, and take him at midnight to

the sick, that he may heal them by touch or by shampooing, when he

pretends to extract gravel and stones from the bodies of the invalids.

So matters continue until the _mafai_ considers himself strong enough to

work for his living, when, with the approval of the _tamiluanas_, he

resigns his _mafai_-ship in a final ceremony called _Luinj-lare

Mafai_--undressing the _mafai_.

The same man may eventually become a _tamiluana_ (one who chases

devils), or he may become _Yom Ap_ and _Yom Elpanam_, _i.e._,

"Grandfather or Guardian of Chaura canoes, and Guardian of _Elpanam_."

The _mafai_ is a peg on which many festivals and customs are hung. The

following ceremony is one as occasionally carried out in the village of

M[=u]s. It is called _Amutna Kuv_--revealing to the invalid.

The _tamiluanas_ of the village decorate themselves and go to a place

called _Mal_, outside the village, and there clear a certain spot in the

midst of thick bush. They take with them a few yards of red cloth, a

cage containing a score of fowls, a basket of pork, and other things,

and hide all under different bushes at some distance from the cleared

spot.

To it, with a number of followers, they lead the _mafai_ in procession,

and a dance with singing is held.

While the party in general is dancing, the _tamiluanas_ take the _mafai_

apart to one of the bushes and point out to him one of the concealed

articles, telling him that it is a gift miraculously sent him by a

deceased relative. All then return and join the dancing party. This

action is repeated until all the articles are pointed out to the

_mafai_.

The red cloth is then torn into strips and distributed to the men for

loin cloths, and all the other objects are taken to the _mafai's_ house,

while afterwards the people renew the singing and dancing for the whole

night.

The site in _Mal_ the people consider to be something like Hades, and

they believe that the spirits of the dead, immediately after life is

ended, take up their abode in it. Consequently they never approach it on

ordinary occasions, nor do they gather coconuts from the place, though

the palms grow there thickly.

When a person becomes ill, or when it is desired to expel the devil from

anyone, the _tamiluanas_ first resort there to consult with their

household spirits, or familiars, and to obtain "devil-expelling" leaves.

In the event of their attempts failing, they go to another spot in

distant jungle called _Passa_ (a former settlement of the M[=u]s

people), where they suppose the souls of their ancestors sojourn.

The burial ceremony is peculiar, and the whole _motif_ of it seems to be

that if the corpse return to the village the ghost will be able to

accompany it and haunt the place.

If a death should occur in the village proper, the natives, after

conveying the corpse to the "deadhouse" in _Elpanam_, for fear of the

spirit, barricade themselves for a time in their houses, and keep fires

burning before the doors.

When a Kar Nicobarese becomes moribund he is taken to the "deadhouse,"

or "house of pollution," and there left to die, with bunches of

"devil-exorcising" leaves about his bed. After the end has come, all

friends bring a piece of cotton, in which the corpse is swathed

subsequent to being washed in coconut water. It is then lifted by two

men and, while kept in an upright position, lowered down the ladder and

delivered to a number of friends waiting below, who try to prevent its

burial. These, with the intention of returning it to the house occupied

in life, attempt to bear it towards the village, but the movement is

opposed by the rest of the community, who are in the majority. Much

struggling takes place about the corpse, and it is very roughly handled,

but at length it is forced towards the burial-ground and flung violently

into the grave. Sucking pigs and fowls are then killed, and after blood

from them is sprinkled over the body, are placed beneath the arms and

legs.[210] The grave is then filled up, and on the third day is

decorated, and marked by three bamboos, to which young coconuts are

fastened for the purpose of engrossing the attention of the ghost. The

house of mourning is also covered with young coco-palm leaves and

sprinkled with sacrificial pigs' blood.

After the death of a person, houses, canoes, and the ground about the

village are covered with palm leaves to prevent the ghost from entering.

Theoretically, all the possessions of the deceased are destroyed,[211]

but the practice is now confined to personal property, as spoons,

_daos_, clothes. Some of his pigs are killed, a few coco palms cut down,

and on rare occasions his house is burnt, or unroofed and left deserted.

What remains goes to the children.

There is no belief in a future state, but it is thought that, for a

time, the ghost will haunt the vicinity.

For some days after a death the _tamiluanas_ institute ceremonies for

the purpose of expelling the ghost from the village.

Tall bamboos, festooned with palm leaves and cotton, are erected on the

shore at _Elpanam_, and the _tamiluanas_ take their place beneath. After

scattering stones and ashes, they run about, uttering a mouse-like

squeak the while, until they capture the spirit and imprison it in a

bunch of leaves. Several men then grasp the bunch, and placing in it a

small figure, made in human likeness of coco-palm leaf, twist up the

whole, and throw it into the sea.

From time to time villages go through ceremonials somewhat similar, for

the purpose of expelling such devils as may be haunting the place.

Shaving the head is sometimes indulged in as a sign of mourning,

together with frequent bathing and abstinence from work. A man will also

change his name to show grief at the loss of a friend, and will take

another title if it comes to his knowledge that a namesake, even a

comparative stranger, is dead.[212]

It was customary for widows to have one of their fingers cut off, and if

they refused to submit to the operation, the posts and doorway of their

houses were gashed and notched.[213]

* * * * *

Accounts of two interments which differed somewhat from the usual

practice may be worth giving here.

The first is that of "Distant," headman of Sawi, who was buried with

much pomp.

The corpse was dressed in a good suit of English clothes, and silver

wire was wound about it from head to feet. This was because he was once

a _mafai_, and the usual ceremony of _Luinj-lare_ (renunciation of the

character) had not been performed. Upon the wire, thirty-two pairs of

spoons and forks were placed crosswise. Necklaces made of two-anna

pieces (240 to each, and two dollars) were attached to head and neck,

and the body was wrapped in forty yards of red cloth.

The corpse was then borne in procession by twenty-four men and women to

the house of the relatives (contrary to custom), and was then taken to

the graveyard. Two very large and four ordinary pigs were burnt alive as

a sacrifice, and seven pigs and eight chickens were buried with the body

after their blood had been sprinkled over the corpse.

The following night, the ceremony of _Fota Elmot_ (wiping away tears)

was performed, on which occasion fifty pigs and twenty fowls were

slaughtered to feed the guests, and thirty-two pairs of spoons and

forks, necklaces of silver coin and wire, and teakwood boxes full of the

dead man's property, were broken up and thrown into the sea.

Again, on the eighth day, the final mourning ceremony was gone through,

when, in honour of the thirteen villages of the island, thirteen pairs

of spoons and forks, and sundry other articles, were destroyed, and the

guests were entertained at a feast of equal munificence to that they had

shortly before taken part in.

The second case is that of a man, nearly one hundred years old, who

owned a third part of the village of Lapati.

The body was neatly wrapped in cloths under a curtain in the

"deadhouse." A sort of open coffin, about 7 feet long and 4 feet wide,

was made, and six thick green canes were fastened to it, three to the

head and three to the foot, each cane about 50 yards long.

When all was ready the coffin was drawn into the "deadhouse" up a

sloping plank, and when the corpse had been placed within, two women got

in and lay on either side the body, embracing it with their arms. When

the coffin was lowered to the ground two big men also laid themselves

down in it.

The large _Elpanam_ was filled with a crowd of about a thousand people,

young and old, from other villages. Of these, a hundred from the

southern and a hundred from the northern villages seized the long canes

at either end, and dragged the coffin up and down in competition until

the canes were broken, when, the grave being dug, the body was buried.

This ceremony is performed only when those of the highest repute are

interred.

* * * * *

Once in every five years the villages in turn remove all their pigs, and

keep them in sties in the jungle. The surroundings of the village are

then offered to the public for cultivating fruit and vegetables, and the

people from other villages arrive and make gardens, which are open;

there is no need for fencing, since there are no pigs to cause damage.

The reason for all this is that after demolishing the _na-kopah_

(sacrifice to the dead), during the festival of _Kana Awn_, the yams and

other vegetables and fruit with which they are loaded are scattered

about the houses, and grow abundantly; to obtain some profit from this

unplanned result this custom has been introduced.

The people in general have their large vegetable plantations at a

distance, but for immediate use there are some smaller gardens near the

village. The _tamiluanas_ informed the people that in consequence of the

flourishing condition of these latter, the devils were angry, and might

cause the island to be drowned by a deluge, and that to save themselves

they should uproot part of the plants. Accordingly, the greater portion

of the yams and other vegetables were destroyed; some of the people

doing it willingly, others with discontent.

The Kar Nicobarese seem to hold much the same belief with regard to an

eclipse as do the Chinese and some of the peoples of India.

They think the moon is actually being swallowed by a serpent, and

throughout the night both young and old refrain from sleep, and occupy

themselves in driving the serpent away. Providing themselves with tins

and planks, they beat them, causing a tremendous din, and shout, "Alas!

alas! do not devour it, let the moon alone and go away."

* * * * *

In the buying and selling of the larger canoes the natives of Chaura act

as middlemen--seeming to possess a monoply of intermediation in this

business as they do of pottery making.[214]

The canoes are not made at Chaura; there are no suitable trees on that

small island to construct them from. The Chaura people obtain them--very

cheaply--from the central groups (where many are made, and where others,

obtained from the southern group, are also sold), and sell them again to

the Kar Nicobarese, making four or five times in the transaction what

they themselves pay.[215]

"As the Kar Nicobarese are timid, and allow themselves to be bullied by

the natives of Chaura, who assume an overbearing manner towards them, as

well as towards their southern neighbours--all of whom are dependent on

them for pots, which cannot be made at any of the other islands--the

feeling predominant among the Kar Nicobarese as regards the people of

Chaura is one of fear, and they evince every desire to avoid incurring

their ill-will and resentment,"[216] even to the point of submitting to

be flagrantly cheated in their canoe barter! The extortionate price

they have to pay may have something to do with the high value the Kar

Nicobarese set on their large canoes.

The business of purchasing these is accompanied by its peculiar

ceremonies. In an instance at M[=u]s, after busy bargaining for pots and

a large canoe, the Chaura people, in the evening, feasted, each man in

his friend's house, and then at midnight assembled at the _Elpanam_,

with the chief men of M[=u]s, and amused themselves singing songs in

turn, and partaking of betel-nut and toddy. There they got through the

preliminaries to purchasing the canoe, and the articles intended as its

price were exhibited. After the bargain was closed the M[=u]s people

returned to the village, leaving the Chaura men at the house in

_Elpanam_.

The articles agreed on were handed over.

Next evening a great feast was given to the people of Chaura by those of

M[=u]s; in each house a young pig was killed for the purpose. At night

all the people assembled in a house in _Elpanam_, and after dining,

amused themselves singing songs by turns.

The Chaura people then left the island in the canoe they had sold, for

it is the custom to do this, and bring the canoe back on a later

occasion. They were provisioned for the voyage by the village of M[=u]s.

* * * * *

The dances of the Kar Nicobarese are always held at the open ground of

_Elpanam_. With a _mafai_, a fire, or a trophy of spoons and forks as a

centre, the people form large circles, or parts of circles, according to

their number, and move slowly round to left and to right. The sexes

dance separately, the one ring within the other, or join the ends of

their chains to form one large circle, but form up very compactly, each

person grasping his neighbour's shoulder with outstretched arms

intertwined. The dance is somewhat monotonous, and consists of two or

three steps sideways, and a pause, with a stamp with the foot or a swing

of the body, and then the same movement in the reverse direction, and so

on, over and over again, to the accompaniment of the performer's

songs.[217]

The refreshments partaken of are coconuts, tobacco, and toddy. The

latter is supplied in large quantities, and gives rise to much

intoxication, which, however, only seems to result in increased

friendliness and a drunken sleep.

When a quarrel takes place the participators often seek revenge in

destroying each other's coconut trees, but in severe cases a man will

probably burn his own house down. Possibly this is done on the

supposition that the enemy will suffer more from self-reproach at having

been the cause of the destruction than from any other form of punishment

he could undergo. Or possibly it is a mild instance of a peculiar form

of "amok," to a variation of which curious psychological state the

Nicobarese are undoubtedly subject on occasions when they consider

themselves injured. Several instances that have been recorded of kindred

occurrences will perhaps best illustrate this conduct and idiosyncrasy.

1. A man named Kuhangta purchased some things from the traders on the

responsibility of another named Tumilo. As the traders pressed Tumilo

for immediate payment, he urged Kuhangta to settle the matter with

coconuts forthwith. Kuhangta was enraged at this, and killed several of

his own pigs, and also set fire to his own house. He threatened, in

addition, to kill any one who approached, and kept a _dao_ in hand for

that purpose. Lorenzo therefore went to the owner of a gun and begged

that Kuhangta might be killed. This request was not granted, and, in

the end, the headmen of various villages succeeded in reconciling the

two, and obtained from Kuhangta a promise of good behaviour. Such cases,

however, do not always end so tamely as in this instance.

2. "About noon, Offandi, the headman of M[=u]s, came to my hut with

a paddle in his hand which he was trying to break, muttering at the

same time, 'I am a very rich man. All this land and everything in

it is mine. You were a very poor man, and I gave you land, gardens,

houses, and many other things. You now call me a liar, and so I am

angry, and am going to dig up a grave.' He repeated this over and

over again, and would not say anything else. I was quite puzzled,

and could not understand what he meant. I asked him if he was angry

with me, and he said, 'Yes, I am angry, and there is another man.'

"While this was going on, his wife and a number of men and other

women came running after him from the village. As soon as he saw

the crowd, he hastily broke the paddle in my hut and ran off with

the handle to the burial-ground, and began to dig at the grave of

his late father.

"The crowd ran off to the burial-ground, caught hold of him, and

tried to drag him out of the place. A regular struggle commenced,

and the women began to cry out, some, 'We fear, we fear,' others,

'Don't pollute us.' The Burmese and other traders looked on from a

distance with great surprise.

"As the matter began to grow serious, I went across and ordered

Offandi in a commanding tone to leave the place and come away at

once. He came away quietly enough to my hut, and the crowd with

him. After some inquiry, he said that 'Friend of England' had

insulted him, and, therefore, he wanted to open the grave of his

(Offandi's) father and throw the bones into the sea, adding, 'This

man was a very poor man once. My dead father patronised and gave

him land, garden, and everything, but now he calls my father a

liar, and so he must be punished.' I then sent word to all the

chief men of the village, and told them to come over to my place

that night.

"Accordingly, at about seven o'clock, all the people, including the

parties of the dispute and the _Kahokachan_ (village judge),

assembled, and as this was a family quarrel, I asked the judge to

investigate the case, and settle the matter according to their own

customs. A good deal of argument then took place between Offandi

and 'Friend of England,' the crowd, acting as jurors, gave their

opinion, and at last the judge made a long speech, in which he

pointed out the faults of both parties, and ended the case by

ordering them to be reconciled. 'Friend of England' apologised to

Offandi, admitting his bad language, and the latter forgave him,

everybody departing quite satisfied.

"The origin of the affair was that Offandi and 'Friend of England,'

with a few others, jointly cleared a spot in the jungle to make a

garden. 'David Jones,' a cousin of the former's and a junior

partner in the concern, wished to plant only coconut shoots, a plan

to which 'Friend of England' raised an objection, as he wanted to

grow only yams and other eatables. Offandi tried to intercede on

behalf of 'David Jones,' on the plea that the land was given him by

his deceased father, and therefore he was at liberty to plant what

he liked in the allotment. Then it appeared that 'Friend of

England' said, 'Your father was a liar.' Being enraged by this,

Offandi rejoined, 'Shall I dig up the bones of my father and throw

them into the sea?'--a very great indignity and bad omen to the

party causing it. 'Friend of England' replied,'Yes, you had

better,' and hence the trouble."[218]

The cases of "amok" that occur among the Malayan peoples are, as often

as not, the outcome of ill-health and long-continued brooding over some

imaginary or trifling insult. Similar occurrences happen from time to

time among the Nicobarese, and as they are an almost exact parallel,

they possibly afford material proof as to the Malayan affinities of

these people.

* * * * *

Sam-tat-yon was always a loafer who obtained his food gratis from the

traders at Malacca, and slept in any bazaar he could. At dawn one

morning, Osman--an old man--a servant of Yusuf Hussain, got up from his

bed and went to the beach, and while returning to his hut, saw

Sam-tat-yon coming out of it with an axe in his hand.

Osman called out to Ali Hussain and Yusuf Hussain (both foreign traders)

and told them what he had seen, and Sam-tat-yon, hearing this, dropped

the axe, and with a small American knife, kept for husking coconuts,

attempted to kill both Ali and Yusuf. They, however, got beneath the

floor of the hut and made their escape, the former with a slight wound.

Sam-tat-yon then fell upon old Osman and slew him with the knife.

He next went up to some Burmans who were gambling, and dispersed them,

after doing one of them some slight injury. Sam-tat-yon then ran off to

the village of Perka.

At Perka, there were sleeping in a house his brother--a man named

Kichyeti,--one Chestu Chulia, and some women and children.

Sam-tat-yon entered, closed the door, and stabbing his brother first in

the chest and then in the abdomen, killed him. At the first cry of

Kichyeti, Chestu Chulia and the others got up, and giving the alarm,

tried to snatch away the knife. Some women from a neighbouring house

then came and helped to arrest the murderer, whose own wife--one of

those arriving to rescue Chestu Chulia--was wounded in the struggle.

The populace not unnaturally wanted to kill Sam-tat-yon on the spot, but

they were prevailed upon to keep him for trial. Not being accustomed to

guarding prisoners, and not liking to keep him in any of their houses,

lest they should become polluted, they prepared a strong wooden cage,

similar to those made for pigs that are to be slaughtered, and left the

man in it with his hands tied.

(The Nicobarese fear the presence of a desperado, and are too ignorant

to know how to guard him, and for these reasons they always kill the men

of whom they entertain fear.)

After three or four days of the cage, Sam-tat-yon became quite subdued,

and answered any inquiries about the occurrence. He fully admitted his

behaviour, but attributed no cause to it. He simply said that he had

been unwell for the last month, and could not take his meals properly,

that he was unable to drink coconut milk, but lived upon warm water, and

that he had not slept for several nights. In such a state of health he

lost his senses, and therefore committed the crime. He stated that the

Mussulman who was killed by him was not an enemy, but on the other hand,

he and all the traders were his friends. Regarding his brother, he said

that he had been kind to him.

* * * * *

The proceedings of a man who wishes to obtain a name as a wizard are

rather curious. He will, for instance, frequent pig wallows, and,

sitting in the mud, collect the bristles left there by the pigs when

cooling themselves; or again, he visits the graveyard at night and

disturbs the graves. He generally lives by himself in the jungle, doing

no work, but stealing pigs, chickens, and coconuts from others. Having

made a reputation for witchcraft, he is held in much fear by the

community, but to balance this advantage, if they consider themselves

injured by his practices, it is not impossible that they may some day

combine and murder him.

Besides ridding themselves of an unpleasant neighbour, it would seem

that they also hope by such an action to cause the destruction of an

evilly-disposed spirit.