LAWS AND CUSTOMS
Exogamy—Polity and Village Organization—Property—Inheritance—
Adoption—Settlement of Disputes—Oaths—Friendships—War and
Head-hunting—Slavery—Position of Women.
The Lhota tribe may fairly be said to have an exogamous system which is
in the process of breaking down. There are three phratries divided into
clans (chibo) which are in some cases further split up into kindreds
(mhitso, lit. “tail”). Strictly speaking a man ought to take his wife
from a phratry other than his own. On this Lhota opinion is quite
clear. On the other hand, marriage between members of different clans
is allowed everywhere and is especially common among the Southern
Lhotas, though it is viewed with a certain amount of disapproval by the
conservative members of the tribe. In some villages, again, chiefly
among the Southern Lhotas, marriage between members of different
kindreds of the same clan is permitted. The reason for these
innovations—for innovations of the last three or four generations they
are believed to be—is that a man’s choice of a wife is limited, for he
is almost forced by circumstances to take one from his own village, or
at any rate from a neighbouring village. A man in search of a bride
naturally thinks first of marriageable girls whom he knows of near
home. The parents of a girl, too, usually much prefer that she should
marry a man in their own village, sometimes because they are fond of
her, but more often because they want her to come in and give a helping
hand in the house or look after them when they are ill. The Lhota
marriage-price system is another potent factor in reducing a man’s
field of choice. The bridegroom naturally does not want to go and work
for a father-in-law in a distant village where he will have to live
among strangers, with no chance of keeping an eye on his own fields and
those of his parents. The money part of the marriage price too is
always paid in instalments and never in a lump sum, for a father fears
that were he to take a lump sum he would be regarded as selling his
daughter, as indeed he is to all intents and purposes. It is therefore
convenient to have a son-in-law close at hand, where his memory can be
conveniently jogged when instalments get overdue.
The following are the phratries and clans of the tribe, the clans which
are regarded by Lhotas as having an extraneous origin being marked with
an asterisk:—
PHRATRY. CLAN.
Tompyaktserre. Kikung.
Ovung.*
Tsangsükikung.*
Pathong.
Chami.
Worore.*
Chongyichami.*
Tsoboi.
Kuwang.
Izumontserre. Nguli.
Sempinguli.*
Sityingonguli.*
Mozoi.*
Rangpang.*
Shetri.
Humtsoi.
Kithang.
Mipongsandre. Muri.
Othui.
Eni.*
Thangwe Eni.*
Lapung.
Chorothui.*
Ezong.
Tsangle.
Yanthang.*
Moyoyanthang.*
The three phratries, Tompyaktserre, Izumontserre and Mipongsandre, are
said to be descended from three brothers, Limhachan, Izumontse, and
Rhankhantang, or Rankhanda, [108] who were the first men to come out of
the earth. The origins of the different clans, so far as tradition
relates, are as follows. In the Tompyaktserre phratry, Pathong, Chami
and Tsoboi are said to have been the three sons of Kikung. Pathong is
said to have taken his father’s head at the instigation of a friend
whose name is not recorded. The Kikung clan claim a vague headship over
the phratry, and say that in the good old days they alone had the right
to wear ivory armlets and keep mithan. The Ovung and Tsangsükikung
clans, the latter of which is found chiefly at Yimbang, are said to be
descended from “jungle men” caught by members of the Kikung clan long,
long ago. Chongyichami and Worore are regarded as closely related to
the Chami clan, the former being descended from Aos absorbed when the
Lhotas invaded the Ao country. The Worore or “bird clan” are
particularly interesting. They are found only in Pangti, the last Ao
village taken over by the Lhotas, where tradition says that the two
tribes lived together for some time. The story of the origin of the
clan is identical with that told about the Ao “bird clan,” Wozakumrr,
and there can be little doubt that the Worore are really Aos who have
been absorbed into the Lhota tribe. The story is that a Chami woman was
sitting weaving outside her house one day when a hornbill flew over her
head and dropped one of its tail feathers in her lap. She tucked the
feather into her waist, and by it became pregnant and bore a son who
was the ancestor of the Worore clan. Among the Aos no member of the
Wozakumrr clan may kill a hornbill or even see the dead body of one
that has been killed. Nor may he eat its flesh or wear its feathers
till they are thoroughly dry. In common with the rest of the
Tompyaktserre phratry the Worore clan do not eat the flesh of the
hornbill, but otherwise they are under no special prohibition with
regard to it. There appears to be no tradition relating to the Kuwang
clan, which is regarded as closely related to the Tsoboi clan, and is
often called Tsoboi-kuwang. The names of the two kindreds of the Ovung
clan—Worosaeromo and Worosanromo—mean respectively “those who make bird
platforms” and “those who do not make bird platforms.” One kindred
makes a little platform on which the cooking-pot and remains of the
chicken are left behind after a “genna” in the fields, and one does
not. No reason is known for this divergence of custom.
The original clans of the Izumontserre phratry are Nguli, Shetri and
Humtsoi, descended from and named after three brothers. The Sempinguli
clan is only found in a few villages such as Pangti, Lungla, Yemkha and
Lungithang, and is said to be descended from Sema fugitives who
attached themselves to the Nguli clan. The Sityingongnuli form another
small clan reputed to be descended from a “jungle man” caught in a
snare. They have the reputation of being expert snarers. The Mozoi clan
is said to be descended from another “jungle man” caught by some
members of the Nguli clan who were “poisoning” a river for fish. The
Rangpang clan in turn is believed to be descended from a slave or
orphan brought up by one of the Mozoi clan, and is often called
Mozoirangpang. The origin of the Kithang clan is obscure. One tradition
classes them as Izumontserre and another as Tompyaktserre. They take
wives from all clans but their own nowadays, and have no tradition that
any phratry was ever forbidden to them.
In the Mipongsandre phratry the Muri and Othui clans are regarded as
descendants of two cousins named Muri and Othui who lived when the
Lhotas were settled near Lazemi, [109] and were the
great-great-great-great-grandsons of Longchethang, the first man to dig
himself out of the earth according to one tradition. The Eni clan is
believed to be descended from a slave or “jungle man” brought up by
Othui. Thangwe in turn are descended from a “jungle man” caught by Eni
when he was in the jungle cutting a species of bamboo called ticho. It
is believed that in the year when these bamboos seed and die a large
number of the Thangwe clan die. Members of the Thangwe clan are not
prohibited from using these bamboos in any way. The Lapung clan, which
is practically confined to Lotsü village, is regarded as closely akin
to the Thangwe clan. The small Chorothui clan originated as follows. An
old man of the Othui clan [110] was in the act of sacrificing a pig,
when on drawing back his spear for the thrust the butt came in contact
with someone behind. The old man looked round and found a stranger
standing watching. He took the stranger to his house and fed him, but
the only reply he could get to his questions as to whence he had come
was the one word “Chorocho”—“I came down,” i.e. from the sky. From this
the name of the clan is derived. Ezong and Tsangle are regarded as
original clans, sprung from cousins or brothers of Muri and Othui.
Yanthang means “Rengma,” and the clan is descended from Rengmas who
rejoined the Lhotas after the two tribes had split up. The Moyoyanthang
clan is only found in Lakhuti. Their ancestors are said to have been a
wandering band of Rengmas who were only allowed to settle there on
condition they never claimed any rights in the village. To this day
they can never provide a Puthi and may not take any part in the dance
at the building of a new “morung.” This is a unique example among the
Lhotas of a particular clan being regarded as of inferior status. With
this exception all clans have equal rights, whether they spring from a
supposed extraneous origin or not.
The number of clans which tradition says sprang from “jungle men”
(orakyon) is remarkable. These “jungle men,” as the Lhota word
literally means, are said to have been like Nagas to look at. They are
generally heard of in stories as being found hiding in trees or
stealing from traps. Possibly they represent aboriginal inhabitants
encountered by Nagas at some period of their migrations.
Some clans are still undivided. Others have split up into two kindreds
which intermarry and call themselves “big” and “little,” e.g.
Ezongterowe and Ezongtsopowe. Others, again, are divided into many
kindreds, each called after some ancestor. The following are among the
kindreds of the Nguli clan—Yemkhashandre, Yemphuhore, Ritsenshandre,
Monglema, Pyakore, Yemtsore, Shungentsore, Yamphentangre. Besides this
arrangement of phratries, clans and kindreds within the tribe there is
a system of inter-tribal corresponding clans existing in all the Naga
tribes with which the writer is acquainted. A Lhota will say, for
instance, that his clan is “the same” as some particular Ao clan. That
Ao clan in turn will say that they are “one clan” with some particular
Konyak clan, which in turn has a corresponding Phom clan, and so on.
For instance, Lhota Chami corresponds to Ao Chamirr and Sema Yepothomi;
Lhota Kikung corresponds to Ao Longchacharr, Sema Shohemi and Rengma
Apungza; Lhota Muri corresponds to Ao Pongrr and Sema Chishilimi; Lhoti
Nguli corresponds to Ao Alangcharr, Sema Wotsami [111] and Rengma
Ketenini, and so on. A Sema who comes and settles in Are becomes a
Lhota and incorporates himself into the clan corresponding to his old
clan. If he or his children go back they slip into their old clan
again. In cases where a Lhota marries a woman of another tribe he may,
however, take a wife from a corresponding clan. For the clans being of
different tribes they are regarded as being so widely separated, though
corresponding, that there is no harm in intermarriage. But it is quite
possible that intermarriage was once forbidden, for Changs who keep old
customs very strictly will not intermarry with a corresponding Ao clan.
The Lhota table of relationships is given herewith in the form
suggested by Professor Rivers.
RELATIONSHIPS.
Father. opo. | Son. otsotyungo.
Mother. oyo. | Daughter. otsolovo.
Elder brother (M.S.) } ota. | Younger brother (M.S.). onyuro.
(W.S.). } |
Elder sister (M.S.) } ota. | Younger sister (M.S.). oyilo.
(W.S.). } | (W.S.). onyiro.
Father’s elder brother. oporamo. | Younger brother (W.S.). opye.
Father’s younger brother. oporo (all Lhotas) or | Brother’s son (M.S.). otsotyungo.
oponunghowo (Northern |
Lhotas). |
Father’s elder brother’s oyo or oyoramo. | Brother’s daughter otsolovo.
wife. | (M.S.).
Father’s younger brother’s oyo or oyonunghowo, or | Husband’s brother’s son. otsotyungo.
wife. oyoramo (if she be |
older than speaker’s |
mother). |
Father’s brother’s son. ota (if older | Husband’s brother’s otsolovo.
than speaker). | daughter.
onyuro (if younger | Brother’s son (W.S.). ongo.
than speaker). |
Father’s brother’s ota (if older than | Brother’s daughter oka.
daughter. speaker). | (W.S.).
oyilo (if younger than |
speaker). |
Father’s elder sister. onnoramo (Northern |
Lhotas). |
onno (Southern Lhotas). |
Father’s younger sister. onnoro or onnonunghowo |
(Northern Lhotas). |
onno (Southern Lhotas). |
Father’s elder sister’s omoramo (if of clan of | Wife’s brother’s son. orrho (if brother’s
husband. speaker’s mother). | wife of same clan
| as speaker).
onung (if not of clan | onung (if brother’s
of speaker’s mother). | wife not of
| speaker’s clan).
Father’s younger sister’s omonunghowo (if of clan | Wife’s brother’s orrhovo (if brother’s
husband. of speaker’s mother). | daughter. wife of same clan
| as speaker).
onung (if not of clan | orrham (if brother’s
of speaker’s mother). | wife not of speaker’s
| clan).
Father’s sister’s son. orrho. |
Father’s sister’s daughter. orrhovo. | Sister’s son (M.S.). orrho.
Mother’s brother. omo. | Sister’s daughter (M.S.). orrhovo.
Mother’s brother’s wife. ongi (unless of same | Husband’s sister’s child. ongo (m.) and oka (f.).
clan as speaker, when |
whatever term blood |
relationship required |
would be used. |
Northern Lhotas). |
onno (Southern Lhotas). |
Mother’s brother’s son. omo. |
Mother’s brother’s oyonunghowo. |
daughter. |
Mother’s elder sister. oyoramo. | Sister’s son (W.S.). otsotyungo.
Mother’s younger sister. oyonunghowo. | Sister’s daughter (W.S.). otsolovo.
Mother’s sister’s husband. oporamo (if older than | Wife’s sister’s son. otsotyungo.
speaker’s father). |
oporo (if younger than | Wife’s sister’s daughter. otsolovo.
speaker’s father). |
Mother’s sister’s son. ota (if older than |
speaker). |
ongo (if younger than |
speaker). |
Mother’s sister’s daughter. ota (if older than |
speaker). |
oka (if younger than |
speaker). |
Father’s father. omotsü. | Son’s son (M.S.). } orrhe.
| (W.S.). }
Father’s mother. otyo (Northern Lhotas). | Son’s daughter (M.S.). } orrhevo
otsü (Southern Lhotas). | (W.S.). }
Mother’s father. omotsü. | Daughter’s son (M.S.). } orrhe.
| (W.S.). }
Mother’s mother. otyo (Northern Lhotas). | Daughter’s daughter
otsü (Southern Lhotas). | (M.S.). } orrhevo.
| (W.S.). }
Husband. orapfu. | Wife.
Wife’s father. omo. | Daughter’s husband.
| (M.S.). } eng.
| (W.S.). } omyako.
Wife’s mother. ongi (Northern Lhotas). |
onno (Southern Lhotas). |
Husband’s father. omo. | Son’s wife (M.S.). omi (Northern Lhotas).
| orrhovo (Southern
| Lhotas).
Husband’s mother. ongi (Northern Lhotas). | Son’s wife (W.S.). oka.
onno (Southern Lhotas). |
Wife’s elder brother. onung. | Sister’s husband (M.S.). onung.
Wife’s younger brother. onung nunghowo. | Sister’s husband (W.S.). orrhang.
Wife’s elder sister. orrhamm eramo. |
Wife’s younger sister. orrhamm nunghowo. |
Husband’s brother. orrhang. | Brother’s wife (M.S.). omi.
Husband’s sister. onung. | Brother’s wife (W.S.). onung.
Wife’s sister’s husband. ozi (if not of |
speaker’s clan). |
oporo or ota (if of |
speaker’s clan). |
Husband’s brother’s wife. ota (if older than |
speaker). |
oka (if younger than |
speaker). |
oyeni (if of same age |
as speaker). |
Son’s wife’s parents omo (m.) and ota or |
(M.S.). oka (f.). |
(W.S.). oporo, oporamo, ota or |
ongo (m.) according |
to age, and onung |
(f.). |
Sister’s daughter’s ota or ongo according
husband (M.S.). to age.
(W.S.). omyako.
Note.—For the sake of clearness only one word for mother (oyo) has been
given in the above list. But in speaking of women born in certain clans
the terms opfu, opfuramo, and opfununghowo are invariably used instead
of oyo, oyoramo, and oyonunghowo, irrespective of what clan their
husbands may belong to. These clans are all the clans of the
Tompyaktserre phratry, and the Ezong clan of the Mipongsandre phratry.
In speaking of women of the Nguli, Kithang, Sempinguli, Sityingonguli,
Shetri and Humtsoi clans the Northern Lhotas use oyo and its
derivatives, while the Southern Lhotas use opfu and its derivatives.
The custom with regard to women of the Yanthang, Moyoyanthang and
Tsangle clans varies in different villages. The Lhotas cannot account
for the existence of two terms for ‘mother,’ nor can they say why a
particular term is used in speaking of women born in a particular clan.
[112]
In ordinary conversation the general ongo, boy, and oka, lass, are used
instead of the formal terms otsotyungo and otsolovo. In the case of a
woman speaking of her brother’s child ongo and oka are invariably used
instead of otsotyungo and otsolovo in order to avoid any suggestion of
marital relations with her brother. The terms orapfu and eng are rarely
used in address, or when a man or woman is speaking of his or her own
wife or husband. Instead, okikhamo (m.) and okikhamm (f.), meaning
“house-mate,” are substituted.
Though they may be of a different phratry there are certain women whom
a man may not marry. (1) His mother’s sister’s daughter, even if his
mother’s sister has married into another clan, for he calls his
mother’s sister oyoramo (“big mother”) or oyonunghowo (“little
mother”); (2) his own sister’s daughter (orrhovo); (3) his father’s
sister’s daughter (orrhovo); but he can marry his mother’s brother’s
daughter (oyonunghowo). A man is rather expected to take his wife from
his mother’s clan. There is no fine for not doing so, but his mother’s
clan are likely to take offence. He is fined if, having taken one wife
from his mother’s clan, he takes a new one from another clan. The fine
amounts to about Rs. 5, and is called lolang ’ntyakma (the price of not
taking from the mother’s clan). A man is not bound to marry his
deceased brother’s wife, but he may do so if he wishes without paying
any marriage price. He may also marry his father’s widow provided that
she is not his own mother, but such marriages, though pretty common,
are viewed with a certain amount of disfavour. [113]
Polity and Village Organization.
Every village is an independent unit in the tribe. Leagues of villages
were formed for purposes of war, and in these cases the advice of the
most powerful village would naturally carry most weight. Thus Pangti
and Tsingaki respectively were the informal heads of leagues against
the Aos and Semas. But except for war no village ever acknowledged the
authority of any other village. There are very rarely definite
boundaries between the lands of different villages. In the case of
villages situated close to one another the lands of individuals of
either village are inextricably mixed up. The writer once asked a Lhota
why they had no village boundary disputes like Semas and Angamis, to
which he replied, “It would be a shameful thing. Every man knows where
his own land is, so how could there be a quarrel?” The fact that the
Lhotas do not suffer from shortage of land as the Semas and Angamis do
also helps to produce this peaceful state of affairs. In the days when
villages were constantly at war each village was ruled by a chief
(ekyung) assisted by an informal council of elders. The chieftainship
was hereditary in the family of the man who originally founded the
village, but did not at all necessarily pass from father to son. The
most suitable man became chief by force of character. His main function
was that of a leader in war, and his perquisite all the spoils brought
home from raids. In some villages he is said to have had the privilege
of the free labour of the village for his field two or three times a
year, but this right has not been exercised anywhere within living
memory and apparently lapsed before the Hills were taken over, if
indeed it ever existed. The Pax Britannica having put an end to his
raison d’être and its sole concomitant privilege, the post of ekyung
has virtually ceased to exist and the word even is rarely heard.
Villages are now managed by an informal council of old men and men of
influence, with headmen selected by Government through whom the village
is dealt with. The old men are appropriately called sotsoi
(meat-eaters), for they inflict fines of pork in petty cases and eat
the fine. Sotsoi are divided into two classes called tongti, the upper
division, and chochang, [114] the lower division. Under them is a
council of vague dimensions called pangi. Usually the village is run as
an undivided whole, but where the “khels” are big the tendency is for
the leading men of each “khel” to manage their affairs independently.
Among the Aos every village is divided up by an ancient and elaborate
system into working companies. The Lhota system is far simpler. Working
companies (yengaten) are composed of the children of neighbours. Boys
and girls work together and help in the fields of the parents of the
various members of the company when there is a pressure of work. Anyone
who is short of labour may hire a company for the day, giving them
their midday meal and a small wage.
Property.
Cattle, houses and so on are the property of the individual, but land
can be held either by the village, a “morung,” a clan, or an
individual. The land close to a village is usually waste land and
common property, as are the rights of “poisoning” in certain pools.
Every “morung” owns land which is the property of the “morung” as a
whole and not of any individuals in it. It is worked by the boys of the
“morung” and the produce used to buy meat for ceremonies such as the
rebuilding of the “morung.” Boys when they get married and leave the
“morung” have to pay a small fine of meat to their late companions as
compensation for the loss of labour. A very large proportion of the
land in the Lhota country is clan land, which is held in common by all
members of that particular clan in the village. A man who leaves a
village loses all right to clan land in the village, a far better
system than the Sema system by which a man claims, though usually in
vain, ancestral rights in clan land in a village in which his
great-great-grandfather was the last member of the family to live.
Every year the members of the clan in a Lhota village meet and
apportion out the land which each is to cut that year, the senior men
getting the bigger share. Strangely enough this delicate operation
never seems to result in a quarrel. Strictly speaking a man may not
sell land which he has inherited. When direct heirs fail the land
becomes clan land. Were this to go on indefinitely the whole of the
land in a village would in time become clan land, and no one would ever
be able to buy or sell land. To prevent this from time to time, when
the amount of common land becomes unwieldy, the clan meets and divides
it up among the members, who thus each become private owners of a
portion of it. The process then begins again. Heirlooms such as the
ancient daos and spears which the Lhota so prizes are held in trust by
the senior member of the clan in the village, provided he has done all
the social “gennas.” To alienate them would bring disaster on the whole
clan.
Inheritance.
Property is inherited exclusively by the male heirs. Failing sons or
grandsons, brothers, brother’s sons, first cousins in the male line,
and so on, inherit in that order. The need of the heirs is the primary
consideration, a system which in theory is almost ideal and in practice
works excellently. An actual example taken at random will make the
details more easily understood. A died, leaving a widow and three sons
B, C and D, of whom B was the oldest and D the youngest. Of the rice,
which was by far the most valuable part of the property, B got half a
granary, C one granary and D three granaries. What cash there was was
divided in the same proportions. D also got the house. In this case B
got least because he was married and independent and had done all his
social “gennas.” C got rather more than B because, though he was
married and independent, he had not finished his “gennas.” D got most
of all because he still had his marriage price to pay and all his
“gennas” to do, and had to live with and support his mother in his
father’s old house. The widow inherited nothing in her own right. Had
there been a married daughter she would have got nothing. An unmarried
daughter, however, would have lived with her mother and been supported
by D, who would have had his share increased accordingly. Had all the
sons been married either the widow would have been given enough to live
on and the rest shared by the sons, B getting slightly the largest
share, or supposing the widow were too old and feeble to work for
herself, she would either have been supported by all the brothers
jointly, or by one of them who would have been given a proportionately
larger share. In short, where one or more brothers have had their
marriage prices paid and have been launched into the world by their
father, they get less than a younger brother who has not had so much
spent on him. Had there been no widow the younger brother would have
gone to live with one of his elder brothers, who would have taken both
his share and his younger brother’s share of the property, and paid his
younger brother’s marriage price and launched him into the world as his
father would have done had he lived. [115] All land inherited from the
father would have been held in common, as described above. Debts are
inherited just as property is, and many a man inherits nothing else.
Where the assets exceed the debts the heirs pay the debts in proportion
to their shares of the assets.
Adoption.
Though so common among Changs and Semas, adoption is practically
unknown among the Lhotas. One reason is that there are very few people
poor enough to be willing to be adopted, and another that while among
the Semas and Changs an adopted man and his descendants become
practically the serfs of their adopter, among the Lhotas the chances of
material gain for the adopter are few. Adoption of a girl seems to be
unknown. There are generally relations of some kind ready to bring her
up and get her marriage price. But boys are very occasionally adopted.
Supposing A adopts B, he becomes to all intents and purposes A’s son,
and enters A’s clan, though he can never marry a woman from the clan
out of which he was adopted. A has to find a wife for B and pay his
marriage price, yet if B has a son, the son inherits B’s property, A
only inheriting if B has no sons. There is no ceremony of adoption.
Settlement of Disputes.
When a quarrel arises between two villages, messengers are sent to fix
a day, and if both sides so agree the elders of the respective villages
meet on the path half-way between the two villages and settle the
matter, exchanging drinks of “madhu” and eating together. If the
responsibility for the quarrel can be fixed on any individual he is
fined, and the fine either divided among the elders of both villages,
or given to the village against which the wrong was done. In the old
days villages such as Okotso and the Ao village of Nankam were in a
chronic state of war. It would occasionally happen that Okotso decided
to cut their fields which lay towards Nankam in the same year as Nankam
decided to cut their fields towards Okotso. Obviously cultivation would
be impossible for either side unless a peace of some kind were patched
up. The elders of both villages would feast together on the boundary,
and an armistice would be agreed upon to remain in force till those
fields were finally reaped, when the game of war would go on as before.
All preliminary negotiations between villages actually at war were
carried on by ambassadors (lantsalanpeng), of which there were two in
each village. These had a permanent safe-conduct, and it was believed
that to kill one would bring dire misfortune on the slayer and his
village. The same custom exists among Aos, Changs and Phoms.
In the case of disputes within the village both sides are summoned
before the elders, and what sounds like the prelude to a free fight
takes place. Both the parties, all the witnesses, and most of the
spectators talk at once at the top of their voices. However, after much
shaking of fists and stamping, and solemn affirmations from the one
side that they will never pay such a big fine, and from the other that
they will never accept such a small one, a settlement is arrived at.
Each side goes in company with the elders to the other’s house and
drinks “madhu” and promises not to quarrel again. This is regarded as
binding. In the old days if one party would not pay the fine agreed on,
the other party simply went and looted his property and took it.
Nowadays cases which cannot be settled in the village are dealt with in
court. Before the Hills were administered, murder was punished either
by turning the murderer out of the village or by taking the whole of
his property and dividing it among the rest of the village other than
the clan of the murdered man, who could not touch any of it. In no case
could any relations of the murdered man ever eat with the murderer. If
they did their teeth would fall out. Nor would the descendants of
either side eat together. This breach can never be healed, and there
are still families who cannot eat together. [116] For adultery the
guilty man had to hand over to the husband’s and woman’s families all
his clothes and personal ornaments and a cow or a large pig. The
husband could not himself take any of this fine, for it was the price
of his wife’s immorality. A clear distinction is drawn between adultery
by a man of the husband’s clan and adultery by a man of another clan.
The former offence is often condoned on the guilty party promising not
to repeat it, but a fine is invariably demanded for the latter offence.
A thief had to return the goods in full, or their equivalent, to the
owner, and pay a large pig or a cow to his clan. If he could not pay up
he was sold as a slave. No punishments other than fining or selling
into slavery or expulsion from the village were inflicted on
fellow-villagers. But a man of another village who broke a village
emung was put in the stocks and had to be ransomed by his friends. Naga
justice was decidedly crude. The elders accepted “presents” freely from
both sides and then favoured the most influential party. There once
lived a famous judge in the Ao village of Ungma who openly amassed a
considerable fortune from “presents.” Yet people came to him from all
over the Ao country, and he died universally respected and is still
regarded by the Aos as a model judge. His reputation chiefly rests on
the fact that none of his decisions were ever questioned! Hardly
believing that this could be due to their justice, the writer inquired
the reason, and found that Ungma had sworn that whosoever questioned
the decisions of their beloved judge, his village should be raided.
Ungma being the biggest Ao village, this threat effectively stifled
criticism. Troublesome children are sometimes punished by being whipped
across the stomach with nettles, or by having a nettle put in their
ears instead of a flower.
Oaths.
The oath is held in high regard among the Lhotas as it is among the
Angamis. A man who is accused of an offence on suspicion may clear
himself by taking an oath. The commonest form is for a man to bite a
tiger or leopard’s tooth and to swear that if he did such and such a
thing may a tiger or leopard kill him. The formula used is the same in
all cases, excepting, of course, that whatever offence the man is
accused of is inserted. For instance a man accused of adultery would
swear—
Ana itsongi nsopi: osi ana itsongi
I your wife with have not committed adultery; but I your wife with
sopi lina mharrki
committing adultery if am in the habit of, by a tiger
a-rhamtoksi yantaroki sena mi-hm
me allowing to be bitten all the village men bamboo shavings fire-stick
penphia a-mungitokle.
using for me let them keep emung.
In other words, may he be killed “apotia” by a tiger and the whole
village purify themselves with fire and keep emung for him. A few hairs
from the swearer’s head, with a little earth, are often bitten instead
of the tooth. In cases where the accusation is of stealing thread or
some such thing, a skein of thread being said by one side to be stolen,
and by the other side to be his own, a little of the thread is put with
the hair and the earth. A very solemn oath which entails a day’s emung
for the village is that on a leaf of the mingetung. The heaviest of all
is on a bonne bouche consisting of a little earth from the place used
by the boys of the “morung” as a latrine, a piece of wood from the
house of a man who has died “apotia,” a little earth from a grave and a
few hairs from the swearer’s head. This oath is very rarely taken, and
is thought to involve certain death for the swearer if taken falsely.
Land disputes are occasionally decided on oath, which is invariably
sworn on a little soil from the land in dispute. Whichever side will
take the oath gets the land. It is probably never knowingly taken
falsely, as all Lhotas firmly believe that whoever swears this oath
falsely will die before he can reap a harvest from the land he has
dishonestly gained. An ancient oath, which is only remembered by old
men, was taken on the huge boulder known as Deolung. Each side in turn
held an egg and swore by Deolung that their story was true. Whoever
went mad first lost! The custom was abandoned, it is said, “because it
was such a terrible oath.” The idea of making both sides swear and then
awaiting results resembles the Ao custom, by which both sides take the
same oath, and the decision goes to the party which suffers no loss of
any kind within thirty days, a system by which the party who is in all
probability guilty does, curiously enough, generally lose. A curious
instance came to my notice. The oath was taken in Ungma on the spot
specially associated with the deity of the wind. When the ceremony
began a gale blew up, so suddenly as to attract my attention in my
garden three miles away. Out of a village of six hundred houses thatch
was only blown from the roof of the houses of two men, and those were
the two principals on one side in the case. The blowing of thatch from
a man’s roof if he has taken an oath is looked upon by Aos as a sure
sign of false swearing. This story is true and other equally remarkable
instances are known to the writer.
Friendships.
Formal friendships are of great importance. Two men become friends
(okam) by exchanging gifts, consisting of half a pig, and a spear or
dao or some such present, a piece of iron invariably forming part of
the gift. It is usual for the sons of “friends” to become friends in
turn. A man will often possess friends of this kind belonging to
different villages, and frequently to a different tribe. When
travelling a man will stay in his okam’s house in each village he
reaches. He in turn will entertain any of his okams who come to his
village. A man may not kill his okam even if he belongs to a hostile
village. Should he happen to kill him in battle with a spear thrown at
a venture he will not take his head. Even if no gifts be exchanged, two
men of the same name regard one another as okams. I have known a man go
out of his way to entertain a stranger whom he had never met before
because he bore the same name as his dead son.
War and Head-hunting.
By putting a stop to head-hunting the British Government has profoundly
changed the mode of life of all the tribes in the administered area of
the Naga Hills. In the old days war was the normal and peace the
exceptional state of affairs. War between Lhota villages was rare, and
it was absolutely forbidden for one Lhota to take another Lhota’s head.
[117] But unless peace had been definitely arranged, any village of
another tribe was regarded as hostile and fair game. This never-ending
state of war affected every man, woman and child in their daily lives.
In the morning a band of young men fully armed scouted round the
village and had to report no enemy lying in wait near before any women
and children were allowed to leave the protection of the village fence.
All went down to the fields for the day’s work in a compact body, the
men fully armed, leaving behind the small children and old men and
women in the village with a guard. Careful watch, too, had to be kept
while work was going on in the fields, for a favourite method of attack
was to rush isolated family parties while they were weeding or cutting
the jungle. Like all Nagas the Lhota was very keen to take heads, but
preferred to do so with the minimum of risk to himself. A strong,
forewarned enemy was rarely attacked. Usually a party of raiders would
either lie in ambush by the village spring, and kill a woman as she
came down to take water, or rush an unsuspecting party working in their
fields, or cut off a straggler on some path. If a whole village turned
out to destroy another village a surprise attack at dawn was generally
attempted. Once the defenders had a few casualties or found the enemy
were through their fence they generally turned tail and fled in a wild
rout out at the other end of the village, leaving the wounded and aged
to the tender mercies of the raiders. Similarly, an attack was rarely
pressed home against a stout defence, and once the attackers began to
make for home the defenders followed them, cutting off stragglers.
Though heads were not taken, prisoners were captured in affrays between
Lhota villages, and were kept in the “morung” in a sort of stocks
consisting of a heavy log cut to receive a man’s ankle, with a bar of
“nahor” wood to keep the foot from being withdrawn. [118] These
prisoners had to be well fed and looked after till they were ransomed
by their friends. Akuk once, having captured a rich man from Pangti,
had to send a message to his relations asking that he might be ransomed
without further delay, as he drank so much that the village was
beginning to run short of “madhu.” Lhotas took the heads of men, women
and children indiscriminately, except those of infants who had not yet
cut their teeth. These were merely killed, for a head without teeth did
not count in a warrior’s toll of heads, and so was not worth cutting
off. A woman’s head, however, was regarded as a finer trophy than a
man’s, for women were likely to be carefully guarded. Ordinarily, from
each of the slain, the head, toes and fingers were taken. But if the
enemy were pressing close and there was no time to take the head, an
ear only would do as well. A Lhota [119] who died recently much desired
when he was young to marry a certain Phiro girl. The minx said she
would only accept him if he would take the head of a Rengma girl and
show it to her as a proof of his valour. This put the ardent lover in a
quandary, for, with the British established at Kohima and Wokha, it
appeared that he must either lose his well-beloved or take a head and
get into serious trouble. But a brilliant idea struck him. He caught an
unfortunate Rengma girl, cut off her ears without killing her, and
after giving this proof of his valour and devotion, triumphantly
married the Phiro girl.
When a raid had been decided upon, those who were to take part in it,
having slept apart from their wives the night before, assembled in the
morning at the ekyung’s house. There a cock and a pig were killed and a
meal eaten. If the cock squawked when its throat was being cut it was
regarded as a bad omen and the expedition was usually put off.
Similarly, anyone who hiccoughed when he was eating the pork stayed
behind, for if he went misfortune would befall him. The credit for
every head taken was shared equally by the men who got in first, second
and third spear, called respectively Lingta, Ethung and Kiwen. It did
not matter who actually cut off the head. The head, fingers and toes
were brought home wrapped in a cloth. When the party got within earshot
of their own village they began to chant “O Shamashari!” (“O we have
killed an enemy!”). The hearing of this in the distance was the signal
for wild excitement and uproar in the village. All streamed out to meet
the returning heroes and see the trophies, replying to each chant of “O
Shamashari!” with “O Imaiyali!” (“O we are glad [120]”). From each head
a few hairs were taken and put in a cleft stick which was set up
outside the village gate. The meaning of this is obscure. Lhotas call
it orrülama, deriving the word from orrü (“enemy”) and lama (“warm”),
and say that it means “warming the earth with an enemy’s head,” so that
the crops will grow and the village increase and multiply. The term may
be compared with humtselama (post-warmer), the piece of the scalp which
used to be nailed to the post of a new “morung.” [121] The writer has
made careful inquiries and can find no trace of any definite belief
that the spirits of dead enemies were in this way made to act as guards
of the village gate, though in some vague way they were believed to
help the village. When the heads were being brought in, anyone who
wished to do so and proposed to perform the proper ceremonies
afterwards could touch them with his spear and thereby share in the
credit of the raid. The procession of warriors went round the village,
and halting in front of the house of each man who had taken part in the
expedition sang for a few minutes. Then all the men went to the
“morung,” where the old men brought them food and “madhu,” and sat and
listened to their account of their exploits. Every man who had taken a
head or jabbed his spear into one had to pour a little “madhu” on the
ground and throw away a little rice before he could eat or drink
anything. This was an offering to the spirits of the slain enemies. It
was believed that if this was not done the “madhu chunga” and food
would be knocked out of his hand by a blow from an invisible spirit.
One man assured the writer that this did actually happen to him once
when he forgot to make the necessary small offering. If there was time
that day the heads were hung up at once on the mingetung. If not they
were left in the “morung” till morning. Preparatory to hanging them up
the man who had taken most heads in the village pushed a sharp piece of
wood through each head from one ear to the other, so that a piece of
wood about six inches long stuck out on each side of it. A man’s head
was ornamented with the big cotton wool ear pads which are worn with
full dancing dress. A long bamboo with a cane string ornamented with
cane leaves on the end was leant against the branches of mingetung, and
the head tied by the piece of wood running through it to the string, so
that it hung about six feet from the ground. Anyone could assist at
this. The fingers and toes were enclosed in bamboo basket balls and
hung up like heads. [122] Everyone who had jabbed the head or any part
of the corpse could have a basket ball hung up as if he had taken a
head. That day all who had taken heads or jabbed a corpse killed a
cock. They had to sleep apart from their wives for six nights, and were
forbidden to eat meat from a tiger’s kill. Further, a woman had to
remain chaste while her husband was away on a raid. [123] Any breach of
this rule, it was believed, would cause her husband to be killed by the
enemy. She was also forbidden to weave lest her husband’s foot should
become entangled in jungle creepers and he should be caught and killed.
The blood was not wiped off daos and spears till the day after the
warriors had returned.
On the sixth day after the heads had been hung up the Ramo “genna” took
place. On the fifth day everyone who had taken a head or jabbed a
corpse killed a small chicken and hung it up with some boiled rice and
“madhu” rice wrapped in a leaf from the roof of his house in the
mpongki on the left side as you go in. He then cleaned his dao and took
the omens by pouring the contents of a small “chunga” of “madhu” on the
ground and splitting the “chunga.” Then he wrapped the two halves in a
leaf, and opening the leaf suddenly let them fall to the ground. If one
side fell one way up and the other the other, it meant that the omen
was good and it would not be long before he did the head-taking
ceremony again. If both halves fell the same way up no successful raid
would be made in the near future. He then hid the pieces of split
“chunga” in the roof of his house. Next day all the men in the village
put on full dress and went round in procession singing from the Puthi’s
house to that of every man who had taken or jabbed a head six days
before. Vats of “madhu” and great wooden dishes of pork were standing
ready outside each house, and everyone ate and drank as much as they
could, which was doubtless a good deal. In the evening the little
chickens and the bundles of “madhu” and rice were taken down and left
in the Puthi’s house. He did not eat them himself, but gave them to old
people.
It was most important that every Lhota should either take a head or at
least touch an enemy’s corpse, for unless he had done so he could not
put on the ornaments of a warrior: hornbill tail feathers in his
bearskin wig, boar’s tush necklace, red-fringed gauntlets, red
dao-belt, and dark blue lengta with red lines. One hornbill tail
feather could be worn for each head-taking ceremony, but a man rarely
wore more than six or eight at the outside, however many times he had
performed the ceremony.
Whatever may have been the case in the past, at the time when
Government first took over the Lhota country the aspect of a head as a
trophy of war and proof of bravery had become subordinated to a view of
it as something which would bring fortune to the village and enable
those who took it or touched it to put on the ornaments of a warrior,
no matter how it had been obtained. The result was that Lhotas were
ready to descend to what was practically human sacrifice. The last head
taken by Akuk, some time in the ’seventies, is a case in point. No
heads having been taken for a long time, they arranged to buy a slave
from Nankam. On an agreed date a party of Nankam men set out towards
Akuk, taking with them the unsuspecting slave, who was carrying a load.
Half-way between Akuk and Nankam they were met by some men from the
former village. All sat down and drank and talked. The slave was given
a drink of “madhu,” and at a prearranged signal an Akuk man killed him
with a blow of his dao from behind. The head was cut off, and pieces of
the body sent as presents to various villages. Many men touched the
head and these blossomed out as “warriors.” This horrible practice of
buying and murdering slaves was, however, comparatively rare among the
Lhotas, who were no worse than many other Nagas in this respect. Among
the Phoms in unadministered territory it is by no means uncommon at the
present day to sell slaves, or in some cases even troublesome freemen
of a village. I have heard of a well-authenticated case in which a Phom
sold his own brother. [124]
An interesting relic of war was the practice of mock fights which
existed up to about fifteen years ago. A Lhota village such as Pangti
would challenge an Ao or Sema village to battle on a certain day. Both
sides used to turn up at the appointed place in full dress and feast
together. They then separated and fought for say half an hour. Sticks
and stones would fly, and then the two sides would close and attempt to
tear off each other’s ornaments. Daos and spears were barred, but
sticks and shields were carried. [125] At a signal the fight would
cease and the late enemies would settle down to quench their thirst in
amicable groups. Looted ornaments were not returned, however. Men were
pretty badly hurt and occasionally even killed, but I believe no report
was ever made to the officials of the district; to have done so would
have been considered unsporting. Men who took part in these battles
were allowed to put on the ornaments of a warrior, provided, of course,
they gave the necessary feast to the old men.
Slavery.
In common with their neighbours, Lhotas used to keep slaves (’ndri). A
thief could be sold by the man whose property he had stolen if he could
not return it, or a debtor could be sold by his creditors. The Aos were
great slave-holders and were always ready to trade in slaves with the
Lhotas. There is an old freed slave woman now in Nankam who was sold by
Okotso. The usual price was two or three cows. Masters had the power of
life and death, but slaves seem generally to have been treated more or
less as members of the family, and for the purposes of marriage were
regarded as members of their master’s clan. It was thus forbidden for a
man to have immoral relations with his female slave. He would find a
husband for her and take her marriage price. Her children were then
free and regarded as ordinary Lhotas. If, however, a Lhota girl was
arranged as a wife for a slave-man the children of the marriage were in
turn slaves and had no right of inheritance whatever.
The Position of Women.
Were it to be suggested to a Lhota that he should go and consult his
wife about something he would reply with a look of utter scorn: “What
does a woman know about such things?” Nevertheless he would very likely
not only ask his wife’s advice when he got home, but take it into the
bargain. A Lhota’s wife is by no means a slave or chattel, but a very
real companion. Her duties are nevertheless sharply defined. She must
cook for her husband, look after the children, make the clothes for the
family, and carry up firewood and water. Her husband will help her with
a load if need be, and in the fields they work side by side. You never
see, as you do in Konyak country, the young men idling all day in the
shade in the village while their wives are toiling and digging in the
sun. When guests are present it is the wife who sees that all have
enough “madhu,” but as a rule she takes little part in the
conversation. Girls are often married when young, and almost invariably
without being consulted in the matter. The result is that divorces, in
which it is the wife who refuses to stay with her husband, are pretty
frequent. Often for the slightest of causes, or even for no
ascertainable reason at all, a woman simply refuses to live with her
husband. She will shed floods of tears over her own supposed grievances
and pay not the slightest attention to his earnest entreaties. It is
comparatively rare for a man to divorce his wife without very good
cause, partly because he will not get his marriage price back if he
does. Among the Aos, on the other hand, where there is no marriage
price, a man will divorce his wife in the most heartless manner when he
gets tired of her. One much-respected Ao acquaintance of the writer’s
has up to date divorced nine successive wives because they presented
him either with no children at all or with daughters instead of sons.
Very rarely indeed does a case occur of a Lhota treating his wife
cruelly. Were a husband to beat her in the traditional Whitechapel
style she would leave him at once, and her relations would extract a
fine.