RELIGION
Religion—Deities and Spirits—The Soul and Life after Death
—Magic—Religious Officials—Public Ceremonies—Individual
Ceremonies—Ceremonies for Illness—Social “gennas”—Birth—
Marriage—Divorce—Death—Miscellaneous Beliefs.
The religion of the Lhota is of that type which is vaguely termed
Animism. He believes in no Supreme Being who rewards the good and
punishes the evil. The deities to whom he sacrifices are some of them
neutral, if kept in a good temper with the proper offerings, and some
of them definitely malicious. Yet he is very far indeed from being
devil-ridden and haunted with ghostly fears. He cheerfully carries out
what he conceives to be his religious duties and meets his end like a
man when the time comes.
[Deities and Spirits.] The nearest equivalent to gods is an order of
beings called Potso, [126] who live in a world like ours, of the earthy
floor of which our sky is the underside. The world of the Potsos in
turn has a sky which supports yet another Potso world, and so on for an
unknown number of layers. The only Potsos who affect us are those in
the world immediately above our sky. They resemble men in appearance
and have hosts of attendants who are sometimes regarded as their
servants and sometimes as their relations. It is believed that just as
the Lhotas have their Potsos, so the Semas, Aos and other tribes have
theirs. The language of Potsos is different from that of men. Some
members of the Tsoboi clan are said to claim to know it. Potsos are
believed to visit earth from time to time and hold converse with the
village seer (ratsen), coming in pairs with a train of attendants and
bringing articles symbolical of the fortune the village is going to
enjoy during the year. They send a servant ahead who appears to the
ratsen in a dream and tells him that his masters will come on such and
such a day. From the time when the warning is received till the Potsos
come nothing must be killed in the ratsen’s house, and between these
dates he must not go outside the village land, or indulge in sexual
intercourse, or eat the flesh of anything killed after he received the
warning, though he may eat meat dried before. For their visit he makes
ready “pita madhu” (etha soko) and some small fish and rice, and has
plantain leaves brought up from the fields for use as cups. On the
night when the Potsos are expected all in the village must go to bed
early and shut their doors. The ratsen himself sleeps in a room
separate from the rest of his family. The Potsos then come and speak to
him in a voice which no one else can hear, and show him symbolical
articles from which the future can be foretold. In the morning the
marks of the spear butts of the Potsos and their servants can be seen
outside the ratsen’s door. They are easily distinguishable, it is said,
from the ordinary marks of spear butts, for they are much smaller and
deeper. This belief seems to show that the Potsos are regarded as
coming in material form. The objects brought by the Potsos are
generally believed to be taken back by them, but Niroyo village claim
that some of their rice is from seed rice given to a ratsen by a Potso.
A typical instance of this curious belief that these beings from
another world sometimes visit the earth is the supposed visit of Potsos
to the ratsen ’Nchemo of Illimyo in April 1919. ’Nchemo reported that
two Potsos came with fourteen attendants and brought with them reeds,
meaning sunny weather, part of a railway carriage (!), meaning
elephants would give trouble, two loads of dark blue thread, meaning
that someone would die “apotia,” and a broom, meaning that wind would
damage the crops. The day after a village is visited by Potsos is kept
as an emung both by the village to which they came and by its
neighbours. Formerly if any village was visited in this way all Lhota
villages, however distant, kept one day’s emung when they heard the
news. Apart from special ceremonies performed to appease or gain the
favour of the Rangsis, Sityingo and such-like godlings, it is to the
Potsos that prayers are offered in sacrifices. Just as in England huge
circular depressions in the hills are often called Devil’s Punchbowls,
so the Lhota tends to assign big or curious things to the Potsos. For
instance, the polished stone celts which are sometimes found in the
fields are regarded as thunderbolts and are called “Potso’s axes”
(Potsophü). The long flat seed-case, too, of a certain tree is called
“Potso’s weaving-sword” (Potsotsitam). [127]
Sityingo is regarded as the lord of wild animals, which he keeps just
as men keep pigs and cattle. Sometimes he can be heard calling the wild
pig, but to hear him is very unlucky. He lives in the jungle and is
like a small man, with his head twisted to one side. By his favour men
have luck in hunting. Okisityingo (“house-sityingo”) is the good genius
of the house. He is like a man, but has enormously long fingers and is
spotted all over. He is only seen by men in delirium. So long as he is
in a good temper his influence is good, but he can be harmful if due
respect is not shown him. It is very unlucky if he leaves the house.
Ngazo is another jungle spirit, practically identical with Sityingo. To
every village and every man is attached a Rangsi, by whose favour the
crops are good. No one has ever seen one or knows what one is like to
look at. Just as crops and wild game have their genii, so have the
rivers and streams in Tchhüpfu (“water-master” [128]), a being like a
man with hair of enormous length, who lives at the bottom of deep pools
and uses human skulls as hearth-stones. Small offerings are made to him
by some villages after doing the oyantsoa ceremony. One is believed to
inhabit a pool called Tchhüpfu izzü in the Doyang below Morakcho. In
the days when men first came out of the earth they were persecuted by a
fiend called Khyuham, who ate their children and carried the skulls of
his victims about in a basket on his back. Rankhanda, one of the
ancestors of the Lhota tribe, managed to shut him up in a hole in the
earth, the entrance of which he blocked, some say with a stone, others
with a mithan horn. Yet even now a yearly ceremony called Epuetha is
performed by every family in order to ward off the evil influence of
Khyuham. Almost every illness is put down to the unhallowed attentions
of Tsandhramo, invisible fiends who out of sheer malice make men sick
by detaining their souls or by introducing hair or bits of wood or
small stones into their bodies, making it necessary to call in a ratsen
to extract them. The bright rust-coloured mud which is often seen
oozing out of cliffs is regarded as the excreta of Tsandhramo. If these
patches are sprinkled with dogs’ teeth the fiends will abandon the
place. In Lakhuti the custom obtains of leaving a spear sticking
through the roof of a house from inside when an inmate is ill. This is
supposed to ward off further attacks of evil spirits. During the
influenza outbreak of 1918 the village simply bristled with spears. The
jungle is believed to be haunted by wailing fiends called Nangkamo. A
famous haunt is below the village of Akuk on the northern slope of the
range. Men are tempted to follow the wailing. If they do they will be
affected with such madness that they will think level ground is steep
ground, and steep ground level ground. [129] Ramphan, the great Lhota
hero, once speared one of these fiends with a red-hot spear, and buried
it. In the morning he dug it up and found that though when speared it
had the appearance of a man it was now a lizard. [130]
Respect rather than worship is paid to a huge boulder called Deolung on
the north-west side of the path between Lakhuti and Akuk. Everyone who
passes it lays a leaf on a stone in front of it. Lakhuti once
sacrificed a chicken to it, but the experiment was followed by many
deaths in the village and was not repeated. Formerly very solemn oaths
were taken on this stone. The story goes that long, long ago Deolung
was attacked by another huge boulder called Tarrlung, who cut his head
off. But Deolung’s friend Matishi, another boulder, was near, to whom
Deolung cried out, “Matishi, Matishi, Tarrlung has cut off my head. Go
and waylay him.” So Matishi took a sharpened bamboo as a spear and
waylaid Tarrlung and wounded him so seriously that he only had strength
to stagger away and toppled into the Doyang near Morakcho. Deolung’s
leg is supposed to be somewhere in the plains, but the wound where his
head was cut off, and his head itself, now a rough piece of stone, are
still pointed out. Close to Deolung and a little to the south is a flat
slab of stone known as the grave of Orhendhromo, Deolung’s son,
sometimes called Orhendhreni, his daughter. The little escarpment on
which Deolung stands is called “Deolung’s wall” (Deolung piku). Matishi
is now a big boulder a little distance below the Naga path and to the
south-east of it between Deolung and Akuk. It is regarded both as
Deolung’s friend still standing guard near him, and as his mithan. A
lowing sound heard coming from it forebodes some great disaster. A mark
in the sandstone in Akuk village is shown as the mithan’s track, and a
natural hole through a rock there as the place where the mithan was
tied up. Another rock called Napa is believed once to have been endowed
with life and to have walked up from the bed of the Doyang to the place
where it now stands on Pyopsü land. [131]
[Beliefs concerning the Soul and the Life after Death.] The Lhota
usually regards himself as having two distinct souls called
respectively omon and mongyi. The omon, which is visible in the form of
the man’s shadow and shows its good sense by disappearing into him when
the sky is cloudy and rain threatens, leaves the man some time before
death in cases of serious illness. It may just wander about, in which
case it can often be induced by the proper ceremonies to return, or it
may go straight along the Road of the Dead to the next world, in which
case the man dies.
As an example of this belief the following story, told to the writer by
a Rephyim man, may be related. The man said: “The Road of the Dead in
our village runs past the champo in which I used to sleep. One night
when I was lying awake I heard someone go stumbling past towards Wokha
Hill, groaning as he went. Then I heard him say, ‘Oh, oh, I cannot
walk,’ and recognized the voice of my brother-in-law, who was very ill.
I was frightened and shouted and woke all in the champo. My
brother-in-law died next day, for his soul (omon) had already gone
ahead.” The mongyi leaves a man at the moment of death and goes
straight to the World of the Dead, where it joins the omon which has
already gone on ahead except in cases of very sudden death. Some men do
not distinguish omon and mongyi (lit. “stupid soul”). The fact is that
the Lhota does not analyse the details of such an unpleasant certainty
as death. The Lhotas also believe in a sort of personal evil destiny
called nyok, and when looking at the corpse of a man who has died a
violent death will hold bunches of leaves before their faces to prevent
his nyok affecting them. It appears to correspond to the Angami temi or
rhopfü (cf. Hutton, The Angami Nagas, pp. 98 and 183). A curious
belief, apparently at variance with all their beliefs as to dead men
walking to the Land of the Dead, is held by Lhotas in common with Semas
and Aos. It is that if a man kills a flying squirrel during his life,
at his death his soul will fly to the Land of the Dead under the
shelter of the wings of the soul of the squirrel. Col. Shakespear
records that the Lushais hold a similar belief with regard to a bird
called vahluk. [132] There are also traces of a belief in the
reincarnation of the soul in some lower form of life. No member of a
household in which a death has occurred may take the life of any
creature, whether animal, bird, or insect, till the days of “genna” are
accomplished and the soul has finally left for the Land of the Dead, in
case the creature killed should be the dead man in another form. The
Aos have a similar belief. [133] The Land of the Dead (etchhili) lies
under our world and has the bottom of our world for a sky, just as our
world lies under the world of the Potsos. There the dead live exactly
as men live here, those who have done good deeds here being rich and
happy, and those who have done evil deeds being poor and miserable.
[134] As the sun passes under the earth every evening their day is our
night. The entrance to it is a cave (etchhiku) on the precipitous
eastern face of Wokha Hill. It is inaccessible and no living man has
ever been into the cave, though the story goes that once a man
desperate with grief at the death of his nine children from smallpox
managed to scramble down to it. There on the floor he found spittle and
on the side of the cave he found the smallpox scabs which had been
rubbed off against the rock as his children passed in. He could not
enter, for he was still alive, but he went away comforted, for he knew
that his wife and children had really gone to the Land of the Dead,
where he would meet them some day. The cave, which a telescope seems to
show does really exist, lies at one end of a narrow, conspicuous
stratum of white rock which looks exactly like a path and is known as
the Road of the Dead (etchhililan). [135] Below it is another similar
stratum, also apparently terminating in a cave, which is believed to be
the road used by the spirits of dead animals, for animals, too, go to
the Land of the Dead. In Yemkha, from whence the roads are clearly
seen, it is believed that sometimes at night lights can be observed
moving on the upper road when the dead come out with torches to meet
new-comers and light them on their way. Some say that the spirits of
those who die “apotia,” or at the hands of enemies or by witchcraft,
are earthbound and cannot go to the world of the dead. Others say that
they go, but by some different road. The dead have knowledge of what
goes on in this world and jealously watch the disposal of their
property! They can even at times punish the living with sickness. They
appear in dreams, sending their omon to the dreamer, for the dead man
himself cannot leave the place where he is. As a sign that he has
really been, the omon sometimes leaves a present of dead men’s rice
(etchhitsok). Zambomo of Pangti still uses rice descended from such a
present. It is occasionally necessary to appease the dead. A pig is
killed and a share given to a dreamer (hahang), who offers it to the
dead man in his dreams. This ceremony is called etchhienya, and is done
by anyone who is heir to the whole of a dead man’s property, and when
there have been many deaths in a family, or if children die one after
the other. Though the dead themselves cannot leave their habitation,
the deer they hunt, if hard pressed by dogs, sometimes come right
through the earth and appear on the surface of the ground in the form
of moles. That is why to find a mole above ground forebodes ill luck,
and perhaps even death. Hence the consternation when the writer’s
fox-terrier one day laid a dead mole at a Lhota’s feet. [136]
Similarly, the male of the Little Pied Flycatcher (Cyornis
melanoleucus) is regarded as the hornbill of the dead.
Life in the Land of the Dead is certainly not regarded as everlasting,
but the Lhota is very vague as to what the next stage is—the truth
being that he does not worry himself about the matter. One theory is
that men die again and become flies. Another theory is that every man
passes through nine successive lives [137] and then ceases to exist.
[Religion and Magic.] The religion of the Lhota teaches no moral code.
The blessings it offers him are material, not spiritual. Yet many, many
Lhotas lead clean, straight, honest lives and are ever ready to help a
lame dog over a stile. It is true that virtue in this world is vaguely
believed to be rewarded with happiness in the next, but this belief
weighs little with a Naga, who rarely turns his thoughts to what is in
store for him after he dies. Whatever it be which causes so many Lhotas
to lead virtuous lives it is not their religion. His religion presents
itself to a Lhota as a series of ceremonies and observances laid down
by custom, any one of which it would be dangerous to omit. Mingled with
this idea is the belief in the to the Lhota self-evident maxim that
like produces like. If children squirt water from their mouths rain
will fall. To pretend that you are carrying a heavy load of rice up to
the village will ensure good crops! And so on in every department of
life.
Religious Officials.
[The Puthi.] The priest of the village who takes the leading part in
all ceremonies concerned with the welfare of the whole community is
called by the Northern Lhotas Puthi and by the Southern Puki. Formerly
every village had two Puthis, the one first elected performing the
ceremonial acts, while his partner acted as his assistant and repeated
the prayers after him. Nowadays in many places there is only one Puthi,
the chief reason being that few men are eager to accept the post, which
is a risky one, for verbal mistakes in the ceremonies may call down
divine displeasure on the officiant. Where there are two Puthis the
junior automatically succeeds the senior one on the death of the
latter. An awkward interregnum is thus avoided, for in the absence of a
Puthi public ceremonies cannot be performed. [138]
Five days after the death of a Puthi the old men of the village meet at
the late priest’s house and discuss the question of his successor.
Ordinarily the man in the village who has done most social “gennas” is
chosen, provided he is otherwise qualified. That is to say, he must
belong to one of the clans who have provided Puthis for that village in
the past, and he must never have been wounded by an enemy or wild
animal, or have hurt himself by falling from a tree or rock, or have
burnt himself. In other words, a man who has only just escaped an
“apotia” death is not eligible. Nor must he be deformed or mutilated in
any way. Once installed he holds office for life. The sole charge on
which he can be dismissed is that of deliberately uttering curses
instead of blessings at ceremonies. But even in this case the village
must make good the expenses he has incurred during his time of office.
He is forbidden to go outside the boundaries of the village, lest he
should fall into the hands of enemies and be killed, for in some
mysterious way the life of the village is regarded as bound up with
that of its Puthi. On his death his successor must perform the ceremony
of “making the village” (oyantsoa). [139] The other occasions on which
this ceremony is performed are at the first founding of a village, when
a branch of the mingetung, or the mingetung itself, falls, and at
intervals of nine or ten years, when the Puthi thinks it is time it was
performed in order that the children, cattle and crops of the village
may increase. It may take place any time during the cold weather before
the rice is sown. The Puthi announces that the ceremony is to take
place and goes round with his spear (phui) in his hand and his Yenga
walking behind him, and collects a contribution of rice from every male
in the village. When all have prepared “madhu” the ceremony begins with
the killing of a dog outside the Puthi’s house. The formalities are the
same as at the building of a new “morung,” except that the man who
decapitates the dog at once cuts off its ears and places them on the
roof of the Puthi’s house, over the door. Next morning the unmarried
men and boys of the village, having remained chaste for three days, go
into the jungle and cut a log about six feet long and a foot and a half
in diameter. This is trimmed flat on one side. One end is left square
and the other end is sloped off from about two feet from the top. This
they drag up to the village and set up just outside the village fence
at the place (opyachama) which the tradition of the village ordains,
with the flat side facing the village. No woman must see it dragged in,
and for the three preceding days the village must keep strict emung,
even sewing and weaving being forbidden. In front of the post, which is
known as opya, all the males of the village in full dress assemble and
feast. The women may look on from a distance, but may not mix with the
men. Then the Puthi holds in his right hand a perfectly clean dao lent
by an unmarried man who has observed strict chastity during the
preceding three days, and in his left hand a cock. After the
traditional prayer (dranda) for the prosperity of the village he cuts
the cock’s throat with the dao and proceeds to take the omens from its
entrails. A sharp stick is then run into the base of the bird’s skull
at the back and it is set up at the foot of the opya. Then at a signal
from the Puthi all, shouting as if in battle, throw mock bamboo spears
at the opya. All then repair to the “morung” chanting shamashari, the
chant of warriors who are bringing home heads, and hoiki enyam, a
long-drawn high note followed by two short low notes. From the “morung”
they go to the Puthi’s house, and after chanting there disperse. All
men must refrain from sexual intercourse for this night. In some
villages (e.g. Rephyim) a straw collar is fastened round the opya at
the point where the flat side is sloped off towards the top. Only
warriors and men of importance, who fasten a little tuft of red goat’s
hair to the butt of their bamboo spears, may spear the opya above this
collar. [140] The opya may be compared with the figure put up by the
Quoireng and Kabui Nagas, who make a similar distinction between hits
on the head and on the body. [141] Whether the opya represents a human
sacrifice or the killing of an old Puthi whose failing powers would
involve disaster to the village is perhaps an open question. But it is
significant that the opya is believed occasionally to groan after being
speared. The next day the oha (lucky stones) under the mingetung are
counted. The whole village having assembled at the tree, while the
women look on from a respectful distance, the Puthi lifts up the oha
one by one, and on the place where they were lays the two ears of the
dog which were put on his roof. He then replaces the stones one by one,
counting them as he does so, and announces the total to the village. If
the stones have increased since the last counting it is a good omen. If
they have decreased it is an evil omen. All then stand round the tree
and flourish their spears and chant the shamashari. A light fence is
next built round the tree, with a door which is, however, carefully
kept shut. After much walking round the tree and chanting all go to
their own houses. Some days later—in some villages after five days, in
others after ten—the young men and the Puthi again repair to the
mingetung to open the door in the fence. Before this can be done the
Puthi squats in front of the gate in the fence holding a good dao with
the unsharpened face [142] of the blade upwards in his right hand and
an egg in his left. Addressing the Potsos, he says, “I have remained
chaste. I have eaten no unclean thing. Now help me and be favourable.”
He then rolls the egg very slowly down the blade of the dao. It is an
evil omen if it falls either over the edge or over the back. He sets
the egg on its end on the ground and puts thirty tiny pieces of dog’s
flesh on each side of it. The gate is then opened and after the usual
chanting the ceremony is at an end. A village which has done the
oyantsoa “genna” must not allow any uncooked rice to leave the village
till after the next Tuku “genna.”
After the oyantsoa “genna” and before the fields are cut for the next
year’s cultivation, some villages perform a ceremony called Pyotsoja in
honour of Tchhüpfu, the godling of rivers. On the appointed day the
Puthi sets out from the village early in the morning, accompanied by
all the grown-up men of the community. A bird-hunt is organized, and
when one has been caught alive all go down to the Doyang. On the bank
the Puthi kills a hen and lays out ten scraps of its flesh on his
up-stream hand for Tchhüpfu and nine scraps on his down-stream hand. A
miniature raft of bamboos is made, on which are put an egg, a little
cotton wool and the live bird tied by the leg. The raft is then allowed
to float down-stream. If it upsets it is a bad omen and it is believed
that someone will be drowned during the term of office of the Puthi. A
little poison is then pounded into the stream and the Puthi gets into
the water and flounders about like a stupefied fish. His Yenga plunges
in and seizes him and calls out, “I have caught such and such a fish!
No, it is such and such a fish! No it is not; it is such and such a
fish,” and so on, calling out the names of different kinds of fish. Of
the fish killed the first is offered to Tchhüpfu as the chicken was,
and the rest are divided up among those present.
Oyantsoa is followed by the ceremony of “calling the Rangsi”
(Rangsitsa), which takes place when the rice has begun to sprout,
before the season of thunderstorms sets in, for the thunder would
prevent the Rangsis from hearing the voices of those calling them. The
Puthi kills a big pig in his house, and taking a bamboo mat, some of
the boar’s meat, an egg, a fowl and a little rice goes with the whole
village a short way down the path up which the first Lhota settlers
came to found the village. The chicken is killed and the omens taken
and the egg and meat laid out on the ground exactly as in the Amungkam
and Rangsikam ceremonies. The Puthi then spreads the mat in the ground
and sprinkles a little unhusked rice over it. Then beginning with
Honohoyanto, Kisiyo and Dilungcham he calls out the name of every Lhota
village, both extinct and existing, and summons its Rangsi to come and
give rice to his village. Meanwhile the whole village, every man, woman
and child having brought a rice basket, sets the baskets on the ground
and beckons to the Rangsis who are supposed to be trooping up in
obedience to the summons. The baskets are held as if someone were
pouring rice into them and then covered quickly with a cloth. All go
home in single file with much grunting, as if they were carrying heavy
loads, the Puthi bringing up the rear. Arrived at the village everyone
carefully pours the imaginary rice out of his basket into his rice
house. Among the Northern Lhotas the young men of the village on the
day before this “genna” make a point of trying to steal water from some
other village’s supply to put into their own. If they are caught they
must submit to a good hiding.
[The Yenga.] The assistant of the Puthi, who accompanies him at all
ceremonies and carries his load, is called Yenga. He must be an old man
who has done no social “gennas” and is appointed for life. In villages
where there are two Puthis each has his Yenga. He receives a share of
the meat at all “gennas” and one small basket of rice from every house
in the village once a year. In cases where the only or both Puthis are
ill the Yenga may perform ceremonies as if he were Puthi.
[Minor Religious Officials.] The post next in importance to that of
Puthi is that of Wokchung (“pig-killer”), of which there are usually
two in a village, though in big villages such as Tsingaki there are two
for each clan. A Wokchung may carry a phui spear as the Puthi does. His
duty is to kill animals at private sacrifices. Below the Wokchungs are
two ’Nchuko (“hearth-bringers”), who bring the small stones with which
miniature hearths are made at social “gennas.” Next below are two
Sorhung (“meat-dividers”), who divide up the meat at all sacrifices and
settle all disputes as to the respective shares. No one may act as
Wokchung, ’Nchuko, or Sorhung unless he has performed all social
“gennas” and dragged a stone. There is nothing to prevent the offices
of Puthi, Wokchung, ’Nchuko and Sorhung being combined in the same
person.
Public Ceremonies.
Besides the ceremonies intimately connected with agriculture which have
already been described, there are certain other public ceremonies of a
more general character. The year officially opens with the Pikuchak
“genna,” but before that is performed the omens for the whole village
are taken at a ceremony called Sirosi.
[The Sirosi ceremony.] The procedure at Pangti, to take an instance, is
as follows. The men of the village all assemble in front of the senior
Puthi’s house, the boys of each champo bringing meat in new baskets and
“chungas” of “madhu.” The two Puthis in full dress lead the way a short
distance down the path to Okotso, each holding a “chunga” of “madhu” in
his right hand. A short distance beyond the village fence they sit down
and together say the dranda, praying that their enemies may make peace
and come and eat with them, that tigers may not kill their cattle nor
hawks their chickens, and that the village may flourish and grow big.
This prayer is offered facing away from the village, and at the end of
it each Puthi pours a little “madhu” on the ground. Some meat and
“madhu” are distributed, and all go up to the village again and a short
way down the path to Are, where the same ritual takes place. On the Are
path, just below the place where the prayers are said, is a small clump
of big trees growing close together. Between their stems is the
traditional spot at which omens are taken at Sirosi. The prayer ended
all the boys rush down the hill shouting, and hurl bamboo spears at the
trees. Then all go down and scrape the earth clean at the proper spot.
Here each Puthi sets up an egg on end, asking that the good or evil
fortune of the coming year may be revealed, and takes the omens by
cutting chips from a green twig and watching how they fall. The future
is really believed to be revealed by the kinds of insects which are
caught near the egg, and all sit and watch while the boys hunt
industriously in the grass. Locusts mean that sambhur hunting will be
good (for they have big legs). Stick insects are interpreted as showing
that many men will take new wives, but will have no children by them.
Small white insects show that the crops will be poor, and so on. When a
few insects have been caught, and their significance has been expounded
by the Puthis and old men, all go home.
[The Pikuchak ceremony.] The Pikuchak “genna” marks the beginning of
the agricultural year. The Northern Lhotas do it before clearing the
jungle on their fields, and the Southern Lhotas after. In any case it
must be done before the rice is sown. The Puthi announces the day on
which the ceremony is to be, and every champo buys meat, and each
champo in turn the cock which is to be sacrificed. On the night before
the “genna” sexual intercourse is forbidden. On the day all the men of
the village assemble at the place where the opya is set up. In front of
the opya the Puthi sets up a miniature opya, and in front of that again
puts an egg on the ground with a leaf on each side. On the leaf to his
right he puts ten little bits of pork and ten little bits of ginger,
and on that to his left nine little bits of each. He then recites the
dranda, holding the cock in his left hand, and a dao in his right. This
dao belongs to the youth who caught the cock the night before, the
champo whose turn it is to provide the cock having selected some days
before a youth whose duty it is to go to the house of the seller of the
cock and catch it on the evening before it is sacrificed. This youth
must abstain from all intercourse with the opposite sex from the time
he is chosen to the end of the ceremony. The dranda being ended the
Puthi cuts the cock’s throat, takes the omens from its entrails and
ties it on to the miniature opya. The old men sit down and eat some of
the meat which the boys from the champos have bought and all go back to
the village with much chanting. Parties of boys walk singing six times
round each champo. The rest of the day is given up to feasting. Next
day is kept as an emung and no one goes to the fields, but a party,
consisting of boys and one or two old men, go out on a mock head-taking
raid. First they go to the opya, where one of the old men sets up a
miniature opya and makes the same offerings of an egg, meat and ginger
as were made the day before. Then the party goes into the jungle and
throws spears at trees and shouts as if engaged with the enemy. Then
all return to their champos, in some villages openly, in other villages
by roundabout paths and in dead silence. Finally after sitting in the
champo for a little, as they would after a raid, all go to their
houses. It is believed that this mock raid ensures good crops and
hunting and a high birth-rate for the village.
[The Rangendri ceremony.] After Pikuchak, but before the crops are
sown, a “genna” called Rangendri is performed, at which imitation heads
are hung on the mingetung. The Puthi collects rice and with it buys a
pig which he kills outside his house. Going outside the village fence
he lays thirty tiny pieces of the flesh on each of two leaves and prays
that inasmuch as the warriors of the village are following the customs
of their forefathers, good fortune may come to all. Then a few men of
standing make globular bamboo baskets, such as are used for fingers,
ears, bits of scalp and other trophies of Naga warfare, and hang them
up on the mingetung. These are spoken of as “heads,” and each man who
hangs one up sacrifices a fowl and feasts the village as if he had
really taken and hung up an enemy’s head. The performance of this
“genna” does not permit a man to wear any of the ornaments of a
warrior, but entitles him to have one representation of a head put on
his grave for each time he does it.
[The Tuku ceremony.] The agricultural year closes with the Tuku
ceremony. Five days after he has given notice of the “genna” the Puthi
goes round with his Yenga and collects unhusked rice from every house.
Men married in the course of the year have to make an extra large
contribution, and receive in return a special blessing from the Puthi
when he visits them on his round. Two days later he collects husked
rice in the same manner. With some of the unhusked rice he makes “pita
madhu,” and with part of the rest buys a pig. The eighth day from that
on which the unhusked rice was collected is known as kichan. On it the
Puthi spears the pig at the opya, or among the Northern Lhotas just
outside the village fence. The stomach is eaten there by the Puthi and
the old men, and the rest of the meat divided up and distributed, those
who gave most rice naturally getting most pork. The pig must not be
singed to get the hair off or the crops will fail. From the day when
the unhusked rice is collected to kichan nothing must be killed or sold
in the village, and no meat from a tiger’s kill must be brought in. The
day after kichan is called remphi or tuku inshuk. On it animals and
fowls may be killed and the day is given up to feasting, the working
companies especially who have worked together during the year holding
little feasts to which they have all subscribed, or visiting the houses
of the different members. Next day emung is observed. On it the
ornaments and all erections on graves are thrown away. [143] No rice
may be cut after this “genna.” Tuku emung being intimately connected
with the dead, it is chosen as a time for taking omens which will show
who is to die in the course of the year. The night before the boys of
the champo sprinkle ashes carefully round the entrance to their
sleeping-rooms. These are examined for tracks very early in the morning
before anyone has gone out. Should a track be found fitting the foot of
any of the boys it is believed that that boy’s omon has gone to the
Land of the Dead, and that he will assuredly follow it before the next
Tuku emung comes round.
Ceremonies for Rain.
The rainfall in the Naga Hills is usually adequate. Nevertheless
various rain-compelling ceremonies are practised, most of them of a
very simple nature. The usual one resembles that in vogue among the
Semas. A gibbon’s head and a small dead tserü fish, with its mouth kept
open by a piece of stick, are pegged down to the bottom of the nearest
stream. When enough rain has fallen the gibbon’s head is taken out, the
fish being left in the water to rot. Another common method is to dig a
little tunnel and pour in water at one end and let it run out at the
other. In Akuk a stick is rattled about to imitate the sound of rain in
the hole to which Deolung tied up his mithan, water being poured in
meanwhile. Sometimes children go about with “chungas” of water and
spray it from their mouths over passers-by and each other. Niroyo,
Wokha and their neighbours fell a tree across the path leading from the
village to the Road of the Dead. All then go home holding leaves over
their heads and saying that it is raining. To increase the flow of the
village spring in times of drought someone goes down at night to the
Doyang, and leaving an offering of four little bundles of meat and an
egg on the bank, brings up a little water in a “chunga” and pours it
into the village supply.
Individual Ceremonies.
[The Potsokam ceremony.] Many of the ceremonies performed by
individuals, such as those connected with agriculture, have been
described under their respective headings. Three main classes may,
however, be considered here, namely, those performed regularly for the
general welfare of the household, those which are connected with
illness, and those social “gennas” on which the status of the
individual Lhota depends.
A “genna” called Potsokam (“present to the Potsos”) is performed every
year, or oftener in case of sickness. The regular time for it is just
before the new “jhums” are cut. The master of the house kills a small
pig of either sex inside the house. He then mixes “madhu” and a few
blades of rice which have sprung up in his granary among the damp
grain, and ties them in a leaf which he affixes to one of the
centre-posts of the house. Then of the pig which has been killed he
cooks sixty small pieces, which he wraps up in a yutso leaf and holds
up near the centre-post, with the prayer that there may be no sickness
or misfortune in the house. The bundle is then put in the basket or
“chunga” in which the day’s supply of rice is kept. Then two leaves
containing six pieces of meat each and two leaves containing four
pieces of meat each are prepared for the dreamer (hahang) whom the
performer of the rite patronizes. The dreamer must come and fetch them
himself in the evening. When he goes out the door is shut hurriedly
after him lest the good genius of the house (okisityingo) should
escape. None of the flesh of the pig may be eaten that night, during
which the husband must sleep apart from his wife. In the morning the
dreamer comes to report what visions he has had and counts the pieces
of meat in the rice bin. If the full number is found and the leaf is
wet with congealed moisture all is well. A reduction in the number of
pieces foretells evil. It is regarded as particularly fortunate if a
little rice is found mixed with the meat. This is regarded as a gift
from the dead and ensures good crops. Anyone may see the sacrifice of
the pig, but were anyone to steal and eat a piece of meat his mouth
would become deformed.
[The Epuetha ceremony.] The story goes that the evil spirit Khyuham,
when shut up in a hole in the earth by Rankhanda, exacted a promise
that he should be appeased by a yearly sacrifice. In fulfilment of this
the Lhota householder, year by year just before the Thruven “genna,”
kills a small boar in his house and puts into a carrying basket
twenty-three little pieces of the meat, a handful of rice husks, an
egg, a handful of boiled rice and a “chunga” of “pita madhu.” The
ceremony is performed in the lhurhui room, by an old man who has done
no “gennas,” called in for the purpose. Holding a “chunga” of “saka
madhu” in his hand he prays for the welfare of the household, and after
spilling a little on the ground drinks. He then pounds up some ginger,
the usual magical disinfectant, in a leaf and pours a little “pita
madhu” over it. While he is doing this members of the family scrape all
their daos and spears one against the other. Then the old man,
addressing Khyuham, says, “We have given you all the things in this
house. Do not harm anyone,” and as he speaks sprinkles a little of the
ginger and “pita madhu” about the room, laying what is left in a leaf
at the foot of the main post of the house, that is to say the post
between the lhurhui and the mpongki. This done he takes up a brand from
the hearth and the carrying basket containing the twenty-three pieces
of pork and other things, and goes out of the house, calling on all
evil spirits to follow him. As he goes the household throw after him
ashes and burning brands, another powerful type of magical
disinfectant, and shutting the door quickly keep it closed for a few
minutes. The old man goes into the jungle just outside the village
fence and there lights a small fire and spills a little “pita madhu” on
the ground. Setting the egg up on end he puts on each side of it a
little heap of rice husks on a leaf, six little sticks, six little
pieces of ginger, and six scraps of meat. The “chunga” which held the
“pita madhu” is by this time empty. This he splits with his dao and
watches how the two halves fall. If both fall inside up or outside up
the omen is good, but if one falls one way and one the other it is bad.
The two halves are then laid on either side of the egg, and the old man
having eaten the rest of the rice and meat goes straight to his house.
He must not enter the house where the ceremony was performed again that
evening. In the morning he goes back to return the carrying basket and
receives a small handful of rice as his fee.
Ceremonies for Illness.
A Lhota when sick usually attributes his illness to the malice of an
evil spirit (tsandhramo), who has either introduced some foreign
matter, such as hair or a little stone, into his body or has caused his
soul (omon) to desert him at a certain place. In any case a ratsen has
to be called in, who can see and “extract” any foreign body which may
be the cause of the trouble, or can say at what spot his soul left him
and is likely to be lurking. To enable the man to regain his soul a
soul-caller (montsai) is required, who must be an old man who has done
no social “gennas.” If it is on his own land that the man’s soul has
left him a dog must be sacrificed. The montsai and the sick man, if he
be well enough, go down to the spot indicated by the ratsen. If the
sick man be too ill, as is often the case, a near relation goes, who
may be either a man or a woman among the Southern Lhotas, but must be a
man among the Northern Lhotas. On arrival at the spot the montsai
lights a fire, and killing the dog by knocking it on the head, singes
it and cuts it up. On his right the montsai puts ten pieces of meat and
ten pieces of ginger on two leaves, and nine pieces of meat and nine
pieces of ginger on two leaves on his left. The paws, ears and nose are
cooked in a pot which has been specially brought for the purpose, and
left there in the pot. The rest of the meat is the montsai’s
perquisite. He goes back to the village, repeatedly calling the sick
man’s soul by the man’s name to follow him.
When the ratsen says that it was at some place in the jungle or on the
village path that the patient’s soul left him and is being kept away by
a tsandhramo, an interesting ceremony with a scapegoat chicken is
performed. The montsai and a relation of the patient go to the spot
where the soul is said to be, taking with them a carrying basket
containing two “chungas” of “madhu,” sixty pieces of plantain stem
blackened with soot, twelve pieces of burnt wood, sixty little bits of
pork, a small chicken, a cowrie, some ginger, some taro, some heads of
a species of wild mint called rarakham, which is believed to be an
infallible antidote against evil spirits, and a burning brand.
Throughout the ceremony the patient’s relation is a mere spectator.
Assuming that the “genna” is being performed on a path, as is usually
the case, for the patient was probably travelling along a path when the
tsandhramo took possession of his soul, the montsai places equal
portions of the ginger, rarakham, meat, plantain stalk, burnt wood and
taro on either side of the path. This he does sitting facing away from
the village to which the patient belongs. He pours the “madhu” from the
smaller of the two “chungas” onto the ground, and lays the empty
“chunga” down with its base towards the village. The carrying basket is
split in half, and half put on either side of the path. The montsai now
drinks the contents of the large “chunga,” and splitting it with his
dao lays his dao on the ground with the blade away from him. Then six
times if the patient is a man, or five times if she is a woman, he
drops the two halves of the split “chunga” together onto his dao,
asking each time, “Will he live or die?” If both halves come to rest on
the same side of the dao the illness will be a long one. If one falls
on one side and one on the other the patient will either die or get
well soon. Next having tied the chicken’s wings together over its back
and fastened a cowrie onto its leg, he tosses it up and catches it six
times for a man and five times for a woman, and undoing its wings lets
it go into the jungle. He then takes his spear and jabs the butt into
the ground a number of times, in order that the tsandhramo may think
that a large number of men have come to call back the sick man’s soul
and so be more ready to let it go. Finally, he calls out the name of
the patient eight times, and says, “O so and so. We have let a chicken
go for you. Come back, come back.” On his way back to the village he
must keep on calling the sick man by name, and on arrival at the
patient’s house he says, “I have called so and so. Has he come?” and
one of the inmates will answer, “He has come.” The montsai’s fee for
this ceremony is a small basket of rice. This account is of the
ceremony as performed by the Northern Lhotas. The only difference the
Southern Lhotas make is that instead of sixty pieces of pork they take
down either a crab or a jungle rat or squirrel, which they laboriously
divide up into sixty tiny pieces. The reason for this is that they
regard it as essential that a whole animal, however small, should be
offered. This employment of a scapegoat chicken is common to Lhotas,
Aos, Semas, Changs and probably most Naga tribes.
If a man be only slightly indisposed on his return from a journey the
ratsen will tell him that a tsandhramo is detaining his soul at such
and such a place on the path along which he came—always a spot
conveniently near the village—and that an offering of eggs is all that
is required. The sick man will then either go with a montsai or alone
to the place. There the montsai, or the patient if he goes alone, puts
on either side of the path a big leaf and an egg, and on the leaf taro,
ginger, boiled rice, burnt wood and cotton, chilies, or whatever he may
have been carrying when his soul was enticed away. He then goes home,
calling his soul in the ordinary way. The cheapness of this method of
regaining his soul appeals to the Lhota, who performs the ceremony on
the least provocation. In cases of long illness more persuasion is
required to induce the soul to return. A meal is prepared in the house,
great care being taken that no stranger touches it, and put wrapped up
in leaves in a carrying basket with a new cloth and the patient’s
ornaments. This is taken to the montsai’s house, who that night meets
the patient’s soul in his dreams and tries to persuade it to return by
pointing out that food and new clothes and ornaments are all ready for
it if only it will come back. If it cannot be persuaded to return by
these inducements the patient is doomed.
A person suffering from intermittent fever or some similar slight
ailment gets rid of it as follows. He gets up from his seat in his
house and puts any bits of rubbish, such as sticks or leaves, into an
old carrying-basket. Taking up this load he says aloud, “I am going out
to get some things.” Having reached the outskirts of the village he
hangs his load on a bush and says, “Watch this; I am coming back very
soon.” He then leaves the load with the illness watching it, as he
thinks, and returns to his house by another path. Semas practise a
similar custom for ophthalmia.
The Social “Gennas.”
There remain to be described the social “gennas,” which play such an
enormously important part in Lhota life. Beginning from the first small
“genna” they increase in costliness and importance till the ceremony at
which two stones are dragged is reached. Almost every one of them
entitles the doer to wear a distinctive cloth. The wealth and
consequently the importance of a man is gauged by the number of these
social “gennas” he has done, for the Lhota, like all Nagas and members
of not a few other races, is a great respecter of wealth. It is
therefore the ambition of every man to perform the full series if he
possibly can. At the first stone-dragging ceremony one stone is
dragged, and at the second, third and so on two stones are dragged.
There is a limit to the number of times the stone-dragging ceremony may
be done, which varies in different villages, but is so rarely reached
that it practically exists only in theory. The only man the writer has
ever come across who has reached the limit is Wonchă̤̱mo of Pangti, who
has dragged twenty-five stones. The only course open to him now if he
wishes to do any more social “gennas” is to “become a boy again” and
sleep in the champo and begin the whole series again from Wozütana, the
first small “genna.” This he does not propose to do. Though cases have
been known in the past of men reaching the limit, there is no tradition
of anyone who began the series again. [144] The “gennas” are public
feasts which the whole village attends, but the man who proposes to do
one must never announce his intention beforehand except in a whisper to
his nearest friend and the necessary religious officials. This custom
is strictly adhered to. Even a Lhota in Government employment who
wishes to go to his village to perform a social “genna” will never say
when he applies for leave what he wants it for. Were a man to announce
that he was going to do one of these ceremonies and then not be able to
do so it would, it is believed, entail a serious illness or some other
misfortune.
For the ceremonies where a mithan is sacrificed a black hybrid or black
bull may be substituted, but the substitute is invariably spoken of as
a mithan. The following defects [145] make an animal unfit for
sacrifice—a hole in the horn, one horn deformed or shorter than the
other, one horn missing, teeth missing or broken, white marks on the
body, white on the tail or forehead (though an animal with white both
on the tail and forehead may be sacrificed), deformed hoof and white on
the leg unless all four legs are white. It is believed that were a man
to sacrifice an animal with one of these defects he would almost
certainly die. Under no circumstances may the flesh of an animal which
has been sacrificed be eaten either by the sacrificer or any of his
household. It is believed that anyone who broke this rule would go mad.
There is a man in Pangti who is supposed to have become insane for this
reason. Whatever may be the real cause he is certainly afflicted with
madness, and of a kind particularly obnoxious to the writer, for it
takes the form of making interminable complaints about imaginary
wrongs. Again in Humtso the writer came across a case in which a woman
tried to poison her husband by scraping shavings off the horns of a
mithan he had sacrificed and mixing them with his “madhu.”
[The First Social “Genna.”] Like all social “gennas” the first one,
Wozütana, is usually performed in the cold weather when there is a
certain amount of leisure from work in the fields. It is a very simple
affair which is often performed by a man before marriage. He invites
all the men of his clan in the village who have done Wozütana, and
kills a bull of any colour behind the house. This is divided up among
the guests and much “madhu” handed round. Little presents of meat, too,
would ordinarily be sent to fellow-clansmen in neighbouring villages.
Next day the man who has done the “genna” must not give a drink of
“madhu” to a man of another village. The head of the bull sacrificed on
this occasion is not kept. The man who performs this “genna” is
entitled to wear the cloth called phangdrap.
[The Second Social “Genna.”] The second social “genna,” Shishang, or,
as the Southern Lhotas call it, Wozüyua, is a much more elaborate
business and is usually not performed till after marriage. A big pig
and a bull of any colour are bought and “madhu” is prepared and kept in
the middle room. From the time the “madhu” is made till the end of the
“genna” the man doing the “genna” must not eat meat from the kill of a
tiger or leopard or other animal. When all is ready he calls a Wokchung
to his house, gives him a “chunga” of “rohi madhu” and formally
announces to him that he proposes to do the Shishang “genna.” The
Wokchung thereupon offers a prayer for the performer’s welfare, and
after pouring a little of the “madhu” on to the floor drinks the rest
and departs. Then the husbands of women of the sacrificer’s clan go
into the jungle and fields and bring yutso leaves and plantain leaves
for cups for the next day’s ceremony. Next day the same men kill the
pig and the bull in front of the performer’s house, the bull by cutting
the skin over the heart and then pushing a sharpened stick home, and
the pig with a blow of a stick on the back of the head. In “the good
old days” before the Hills were administered the bull was beaten to
death as slowly as possible—“great fun,” as old men often say with a
sigh. The two Wokchungs and two ’Nchukos are in attendance, and the
latter lay out six small pebbles in the form of miniature hearths in
the mpongki, a piece of ceremonial for which the Lhotas can give no
reason. The meat is then all divided up, and the Wokchungs and ’Nchukos
first go into the house and cook and eat a little of the meat. Then the
guests go in and feast. For this day they are mostly the husbands of
women of the sacrificer’s clan, with a sprinkling of blood relations
and senior men. At night, after much singing of songs in which good
wishes for the sacrificer are expressed, the guests disperse and the
’Nchukos throw away the six small pebbles. Next day about midday two
small pigs provided by the sacrificer are speared by the Wokchungs
outside the house. The hindquarters of one are the perquisite of the
parents of the sacrificer’s wife. The rest of the meat is eaten in the
evening, when all men of the sacrificer’s clan in the village who have
done the Shishang “genna” collect round a fire outside his house and
sing and drink his “madhu.” The Wokchungs and ’Nchukos each hold a cock
and sing songs in which the good fortune of the sacrificer is desired.
The cocks are then killed and the meat divided among the guests. The
rest of the evening and most of the night is given up to singing and
drinking, the old men especially getting happier and happier and more
and more boastful of the deeds of their youth.
[The Third Social “Genna.”] The third social “genna” is called Etha.
Nowadays the tendency is to combine it with the fourth social “genna”
at which a mithan is killed, or even omit it altogether. The procedure
is much the same as that of the Shishang “genna,” except that Humtso,
Chami, Kikung, Pathong and Nguli clans claim that they alone have the
right to sacrifice a bull, other clans being content with pigs. The
performance of this “genna” confers the right of wearing the cloth
called ethasü.
After Etha and all subsequent social “gennas” a ceremony called
osoni-woala is performed at the granary of the man who has done the
sacrifice. The two Wokchungs sacrifice two pigs outside the granary,
and kill two fowls by knocking their heads against the door. The meat
is then divided up and the fowls’ feathers are tied to bamboos outside
the granary as a sign that the ceremony has been performed there.
[The Fourth Social “Genna.”] The fourth social “genna” is that at which
a mithan is killed (Tsirotsoala). The man who proposes to perform this
“genna” tells the two Wokchungs of his intention. The Wokchungs tell
the husbands of married women born in the sacrificer’s clan, and they
(the husbands) in turn give public notice in the village and are called
Wothang (“announcers”). Rice is pounded, with much singing, and “madhu”
prepared. On the day of the sacrifice the mithan, which must be a bull
without blemish, is tied up in front of the sacrificer’s house, with
its horns decked with rezüyo leaves. It is given a drink of water and
allowed to lick salt out of the hand of the sacrificer’s wife. The
Wokchung touches it on the head with a stick and recites dranda. It is
thrown, and a spear thrust into its heart by an old man, not
necessarily of the sacrificer’s clan, who at once runs away while all
present pelt him with lumps of earth. After the mithan is dead its nose
is pierced by the Wokchung and a string of kuro bark passed through and
tied to a post in front of the house. The man performing the “genna”
then takes his dao in his left hand and draws it across the flanks and
neck of the animal as if he were cutting up the meat. He then cuts the
string and walks widdershins round the mithan up to the door of his
house, which he enters after washing his hands and his dao. The meat is
divided up as follows: the chest to the clan of the performer of the
sacrifice, the hindquarters to his wife’s clan, the fore-legs to the
husbands of women of his clan (echantyoi), the meat of the head to the
Wothangs, the tongue to the man who helped to buy the mithan, and the
lower part of the stomach to the old man who killed it. The performer
must on no account eat any of this meat. Probably he will avoid mithan
meat altogether for a year, in case an enemy should give him some of
his own mithan to eat. The skull and horns must be kept in the “morung”
till the sacrificer has dragged a stone, when he is allowed to put them
up in his house.
[Stone-dragging.] Before the ceremonies [146] begin a man who proposes
to drag a stone must build a little shed at the back of his house
called emungrangki, in which he and the whole household must sleep till
the ceremonies are finished. All being prepared and a stone selected,
two Wothangs announce the date of the ceremony on behalf of the
performer, who must allow no strangers from other villages to enter his
house, and must remain chaste from the time the stone is dug out of the
ground till the completion of the ceremonies. On the appointed night
rice is pounded in front of his house with much singing and “madhu”
made after daybreak. (Here and throughout, most of the work is done by
the echantyoi, i.e. husbands of women whom the performer calls
“sister”). The “madhu” is put in baskets to ferment and a bunch of
green stuff called soko-mma (“madhu-forbidding”) is put over the door.
[147] On the fourth day after this the performer must feed the
Wokchungs and their assistants in his house, receiving their blessing
in return. The next day a path is cleared for the stone, the workers
being feasted on a large pig. On the following day an old man called
Lungchakdhro kills a little chicken in front of the house by cutting
its throat with a sharp piece of bamboo, and prays that the stone may
be carried up safely and unbroken. The chicken is thrown away. Then the
Wokchung kills a small pig which is cooked by the performer’s echantyoi
in his mpongki. Every man is given a piece. The older men eat their
portions, but the younger men only touch theirs and throw them down,
for it is believed that they would become weak and unable to lift the
stone were they to eat this meat. Then all the men of the village, both
those of the performer’s clan and his echantyoi, go down to the stone,
which may be as far as two miles away, and make a frame of bamboo, on
which it is put and bound with cane and creepers. When all is ready the
two Wothangs sprinkle a mixture of “rohi madhu,” “saka madhu” and
rarakham in all directions and make a pretence of lifting the stone.
These preliminaries over, all take up the frame and carry [148] the
stone with much ho-hoing and grunting up to a place on the path called
züchanpen (“stone-discussing-place”). There they are met by a
procession of men in full dancing dress, consisting of all men of the
dragger’s clan who have dragged stones before, the rear being brought
up by the performer himself, followed by two men called Eso and Yuso,
Eso being the last man of the same clan who dragged a stone before the
present puller, and Yuso the last dragger before Eso of the same clan.
The performer himself carries an axe wrapped in yutso leaves, an egg
and a chicken. After the inevitable interval for eating, drinking and
talking the senior Wokchung holds the chicken in his hand and utters
prayers for the prosperity of the village in general and especially for
that of the performer and his wife. He cuts the chicken’s throat with a
sharp piece of bamboo and places it with the egg in front of the stone.
The two Wokchungs and the performer then all hold the axe together and
make eight cuts to the right and eight to the left, as if clearing a
way in front of the stone. The stone is then carried up to the village
and laid in front of the performer’s house. The evening is spent in
feasting and singing. The performer supplies a bull, which is killed
and divided up. The entrails are cooked and eaten by the carriers on
the spot. The head goes to the performer and the meat is distributed to
all except the performer and his clan and household. The songs sung are
called orrüeya (“enemy-songs”), and detail the heads taken from every
hostile village in the neighbourhood. The next day the Wokchungs show
the exact place where the stone is to be set up and a hole is dug. All
chant a prayer for the good fortune of the performer, holding in their
hands curious cups of “madhu” made of folded plantain leaves ornamented
with long horns of rezüyo leaves, similar to the cups used by the Aos
at their big sacrifices. Two boars are then killed and cooked and
eaten. A procession now emerges from the performer’s house consisting
of two old women followed by the performer’s wife wearing her charaksü
cloth for the first time, and another old woman. All four must wear
their cloths bound round them under the armpits and not over the
shoulders. The four women walk round the hole, which they approach from
the side opposite to the Road of the Dead. Each one waves her foot over
the hole as she passes. They then wash their faces and hands and
re-enter the house. The stone is now tipped into the hole, set up and
covered with mats, and the rest of the day spent in feasting and
gaiety. In the morning the mats are removed and the ceremony is at an
end. Among the Southern Lhotas three days elapse between that on which
the stone is dragged into the village and that on which it is set up.
During these three days the dragger is “genna.” He must not speak to
strangers or eat any unclean meat. [149]
Occasionally big forked posts (tsongzü), ten or twelve feet high, [150]
are put up instead of stones to commemorate a mithan sacrifice. The
usual reason is that suitable stone is not available, but the Nyimshamo
kindred of the Othui clan in Yekhum are a unique example of a kindred
which is forbidden to set up stones and must always set up posts
instead. The reason given is simply that they have never been allowed
to have anything to do with the village oha. The kindred came from
Yemkha on the Sema border and may represent an immigration of Semas who
still retain their own customs, but there is no tradition to that
effect.
Birth.
In addition to the articles of food which women are forbidden to eat at
all times, there are certain other things which are prohibited during
pregnancy. Neither the woman nor her husband may eat tortoise or
pangolin, [151] indeed she must not even touch a tortoise, and her
husband, though he may touch one, may not bring one into the house or
allow anyone else to do so. The wife may not eat bear’s meat or the
kill of any wild animal, and if her husband eats any of these things he
must sleep apart from her the following night. It is most important
that neither the husband nor the wife should kill a snake during this
time. Were they to do so the expected child would have a tremulous
tongue. Some pregnant women even object to a snake being killed in
their presence. It is also forbidden to an expectant mother to cut her
hair. Any hairs which fall out are carefully collected and twisted into
the hair-band. At the time of delivery the woman lies on her side and
is attended to by an old midwife called Oshangessi (“thrower-away of
afterbirth”). The husband and female relations may remain present. The
household goods are only put outside when delivery is delayed. In cases
of very painful birth the father either makes fire with a fire-stick
and fumigates the woman, or exchanges drinks of hot “rohi madhu” with
her. Occasionally the father spits on his fingers and puts a little of
his saliva on the woman’s stomach. This is regarded as an infallible
remedy in cases of difficult delivery. [152] The Oshangessi, the moment
the child is born, calls it by some name other than that which is to be
its real name, in order that the evil spirits (tsandhramo) who are
listening at the door may be deceived and go away, thinking they are in
possession of the real name, which is not given till six days later in
the case of a boy and five days later in the case of a girl. The name
finally chosen is invariably one which has been borne by a member of
the clan before. The false name having been given, the Oshangessi
washes the child and puts a little boiled rice into its mouth. The
navel string is put into a “chunga” and carefully kept by the parents
in their house. If it were thrown away and eaten by a dog or pig or
otherwise destroyed the child would die. The Oshangessi wraps up the
afterbirth in bits of rag and tsampen (wild lemon) leaves in the case
of a boy and michem leaves in the case of a girl, and putting it in a
little basket hangs it up on a michem tree, a tree with white flowers,
well out of the way of dogs and pigs, who would cause the death or
serious illness of the child if they ate it. There is one such tree on
the outskirts of every “khel” which is used for afterbirths. [153]
For the next six days in the case of a boy, or five days in the case of
a girl, the parents must not speak to any strangers, nor may any
strangers come to the house. [154] Freshly killed meat too must not be
brought into the house. For these days the child is regarded as in a
sense still in the process of being born. The custom until recently was
to regard a mother who died during this time as having died in
childbirth, [155] and abandon the house and all its contents. At the
end of five or six days as the case may be the ceremony of first
carrying the child is performed. Into the hands of a son the father
puts a miniature “madhu chunga” and wooden dao and says, “If I go on
the warpath, if I go hunting, if I go fishing, I will take you with me.
Grow up a strong, famous man.” He then places the child for a moment in
a carrying cloth on the back of the first “carrier” (Ngaromuchung), who
must be a boy for a male child and a girl for a female child, but may
be of any clan. For a daughter the father puts into her hands a
miniature weaving sword and belt and says, “If I go to the fields, if I
go to pick leaves in the jungle, I will take you with me. Grow up
quickly and be strong.” She is then given to the Ngaromuchung to carry
for a minute. For the rest of that day the Ngaromuchung must avoid
going down the path by which the spirits of the dead leave the village,
in case he or she should unwittingly carry the child’s soul (omon) with
her. After the child has been carried by the Ngaromuchung the lobes of
the child’s ears are pierced with a sharp bamboo needle. The Oshangessi
usually does this, but if she is old and her hand unsteady the father
drives the needle through at the place indicated by her. A little plug
of cotton wool is put in to prevent the hole closing up.
Boys are suckled for three years as a rule and girls for two, but a
little “grown-ups’” food is given from a very early age. Bat’s-flesh
soup is considered to be a good tonic for a child whom its mother
cannot suckle properly for any reason. Within about a month of birth
the child is given its first taste of meat. If possible bulbul is
given, because this bird twitters so much that by eating it a child
will soon learn how to talk. Substitutes are a small fish called
ngolelop, or a species of cuckoo called liyosangsü, which is said to be
able to imitate the call of all birds and animals.
As soon as the mother is well enough to take the child out of the house
she cuts off a little of its hair and either throws it away or wraps it
in a leaf and keeps it. The heads of little boys are shaved except for
a little piece on the crown, which is gradually allowed to increase
until by the time he can run about his coiffure is like that of a grown
man. Little girls have the whole of their heads shaved till they begin
to wear a skirt, which is generally when they are five or six years
old. It is then allowed to grow, beginning in the spring, “so that it
grows with the jungle,” as one informant expressed it to the writer.
Marriage.
Girls usually marry between the ages of fourteen and eighteen, and boys
between seventeen and twenty-two. The ceremonies are intricate and
differ in the northern and southern sections of the tribe. Among the
Northern Lhotas the customary procedure is as follows. A man having
decided that he wishes to marry a certain girl, he tells his parents,
and either his mother or some elderly female relation goes and sounds
the girl’s parents. If they are agreeable she goes again with a
“chunga” of “rohi madhu,” which they drink, but by so doing do not bind
themselves to give their daughter in marriage. The marriage-price is
then discussed and settled by the two families, and the bridegroom
gives the girl a rain-shield (phūchyo), a small carrying-basket
(eyingkhangdro) and a dao handle.
These preliminaries being satisfactorily settled, at the next Pikuchak
the ceremony of tsoyuta (“eating and drinking”) takes place. The man
takes a cock, which he has killed and cooked himself, and some “madhu”
rice, and goes to the girl’s parents’ house accompanied by an old man
of his clan called Hantsen, and another male relative, a sort of best
man. The Hantsen enters the house first, then the bridegroom and then
the best man. They hand the “madhu” rice to the girl’s father, who in
turn produces some. The rice of the two families is mixed by the girl
and a brew prepared from it which may be drunk by all except the
engaged couple. The bride and bridegroom sit side by side on the bed in
the lhurhui, and the Hantsen squats opposite to them, holding in each
hand a leaf containing sixteen tiny scraps of the cock which the
bridegroom brought. He then swings his hands backwards and forwards
eight times, praying that the couple, who by this ceremony are made man
and wife, will live long and happily together. From this time the
bridegroom will work in his father-in-law’s house for about a year.
[156] It is forbidden for him to have connection with his wife before
tsoyuta. [157] To do so would, it is believed, cause the marriage to be
sterile. But he may sleep with her when working in her father’s house.
When the fields have all been cut the bridegroom’s relations stack a
quantity of wood in the jungle, and bring up one load each to the
bride’s father’s house, receiving a drink of “madhu” for their trouble.
Four or five days later the lantsoa (“road-making”) ceremony takes
place. The husbands of women born in the bridegroom’s clan and their
wives fetch up all the wood which was left stacked in the jungle and
heap it up in front of his father-in-law’s house. The bridegroom kills
a pig and gives about twelve pounds of meat to his father-in-law. That
night in the latter’s house the Hantsen strangles a chicken and watches
how the excreta fall. If any remains in the vent it is an evil omen
indicating that the woman will die in childbirth. The Hantsen examines
the entrails also, and from them claims to be able to say which will
die first, whether the first child will be a boy or a girl, and so on.
The chicken is then cooked by the Hantsen and taken away as his
perquisite. The married couple may watch, but must never say afterwards
what the omens revealed. Next day men of the bridegroom’s clan
distribute the wood heaped up in front of his father-in-law’s house
among all members of the father-in-law’s clan, being rewarded with
shares of the twelve pounds of pork.
The bridegroom still continues to work in his father-in-law’s house
till the next Tuku comes round and the halam ceremony puts an end to
his rather laborious honeymoon. For this the bridegroom builds a small
house called kithandro, and buys a big pig, which is speared through
the heart with a sharp bamboo in front of his parents’ house by the
husbands of women born in his clan. It is taken to his father-in-law’s
house and there singed and cut up. The head goes to the bride’s father,
who also shares with other members of his clan the left fore- and
hind-quarters. The chest and right fore- and hind-legs are laid aside.
The bride collects cotton from all married women of her clan, and gives
them shares of meat from the chest in exchange. In the afternoon all
women, married or unmarried, of her clan bring two bobbins of thread
each and are regaled with “madhu” in front of her father’s house,
returning to their houses at nightfall. At night men of the
bridegroom’s clan make preparations to escort the couple to their
kithandro, and collect and drink outside his father-in-law’s house, the
bride and bridegroom meanwhile remaining inside. The drinking over,
they put some meat wrapped in leaves and a “chunga” of “madhu” against
the house and call out, “Let them come. Any further talking can be done
to-morrow. Any further talking can be done the day after to-morrow. It
is forbidden to come after cockcrow. If you do not let them come now we
will burn your house.” After they have been summoned in this way three
or four times the procession emerges: first the wife of a man of the
bridegroom’s clan, then the bridegroom in full dress, followed by the
bride wearing her loroesü (marriage cloth) for the first time, with the
wife of another man of the bridegroom’s clan bringing up the rear. The
first and last woman must not be pregnant at the time. Before leaving
the house the couple each take in their hands a small piece of meat of
the pig which was killed earlier in the day and two pieces of thread.
The husband waves his spear widdershins round the hearth before leaving
the house, a ritual act of which the meaning is not known. They must
both maintain absolute silence from the time they take the meat and
thread in their hands to the time the Hantsen completes the ceremonies
at the kithandro, whither they are escorted by the bridegroom’s male
relations. Four of these relations stay behind, and after asking the
way to the kithandro—a mere pretence, of course—pick up the right fore-
and hind-legs of the pig and take them there, having let the bridal
procession get well on its way first. The couple find the Hantsen
waiting for them outside the kithandro. He takes the bridegroom’s spear
from him, jabs the butt into the ground and leaves it standing outside
the house. The meat and thread he takes into the house, and having
poured water over the couple’s hands leads them in. Standing in front
of him, the man to the right and the woman to the left, they genuflect
to him eight times. They may then speak and he leaves them. The couple
sleep in the kithandro that night, but sexual intercourse is forbidden,
and two small boys of the bridegroom’s clan sleep with them. In the
morning the boys go down to fetch water, talking loudly all the way,
for it would be a very bad omen were they to meet a squirrel or other
wild animal on the way. During the day neither of the couple may go to
the wife’s father’s house. On the third day they go with a present of
meat, and are feasted there in return. [158]
Three or four days later the ceremonies are completed by the
Ponyiratsen (“man-and-wife-magicians”). After a drink of “rohi madhu”
the couple go into the jungle alone and bring up a load of yutso leaves
and sixty-four small bamboo “chungas” in eight equal bundles. All are
cut on the slant except two in different bundles, which are cut with a
level rim and are called tsungta. In each “chunga” of the two bundles
containing tsungta are put eight pieces of shambuk pith and eight
pieces of shamburi pith. When this has been brought the two Ponyiratsen
are called to the house. They are two old women, wives or widows of men
whom the bridegroom calls aporamo, and who have dragged a stone. These
are given a full “chunga” of “rohi” to drink and proceed to tie up
little scraps of pork in yutso leaves. They make four parcels each
containing four scraps of meat, four each containing six, four each
containing eight, four each containing ten, and finally two each
containing thirty. These little parcels they put in a basket with a
“chunga” of “rohi.” Then each throttles a cock and watches the position
of its legs when it dies. If the right leg is down and the left up the
husband will die first. If the right is up and the left down the wife
will die first. If the legs are crossed the couple will quarrel. The
excreta and entrails are also examined in the usual way. The husband
then singes the cocks and cuts each in half slantwise, so that the head
is in one half and the vent in the other. He puts yutso leaves on the
ground on his right and left, and puts the halves of two different
cocks on each. These are wrapped in leaves and put in the load with the
pork and “madhu.” Then all wash their hands and the Ponyiratsen put
eight narrow strips of plantain leaf over each ear of the bride and
bridegroom, who sit down in front of them, the husband to the right and
the wife to the left. The elder of the Ponyiratsen next takes a small
basket and puts into it a pair of pewter bracelets and waves it in
front of the couple, while she mumbles a prayer that they may be happy
and have many children. Only women know the right prayer, which is
mumbled purposely in order to prevent the husband hearing it properly.
The prayer finishes with “hohoho” said eight times, the other
Ponyiratsen keeping count aloud. From the house the old women go to the
Ponyiratsentung (“Ponyiratsen tree”) belonging to the “khel,” taking
with them the basket containing the parcels of pork and chicken and the
“madhu,” and four bundles of bamboo “chungas,” eight yutso leaves
without blemish, an egg, and two garments which have been worn by the
husband and wife respectively. The old women are supposed to lead away
with them all evil spirits. It is therefore considered very unlucky to
meet them and their devilish train on their way. When they leave the
kithandro the wife shuts the door quickly behind them in order to keep
out evil spirits and keep in good. Arrived at the tree the elder
Ponyiratsen divides the “chungas” into two equal heaps and puts the egg
between them, with a parcel containing thirty pieces of meat on each
side. They then go to the younger Ponyiratsen’s house, and having
divided up the rest of the meat there the elder one goes home. That
night the couple for whom the ceremony is being done must sleep apart.
Next day the Ponyiratsen come again and take the omens in the same way,
except that two hens are used instead of two cocks. After swinging the
basket containing the bracelets and mumbling the charm, the elder
Ponyiratsen lays a bamboo mat on the ground outside the door on the
side farthest away from the Road of the Dead. By the mat she lays the
two worn garments which she took the day before, the husband’s to the
right and the wife’s to the left. She sits at the right end of the mat,
facing her assistant Ponyiratsen, who sits at the left end, and rolls
an egg along the mat. Omens are drawn from the direction in which the
pointed end lies when it comes to rest. If it points towards a hostile
village the husband will get heads, if towards the plains money, if
towards the house rice. It is a very bad omen if it points towards the
Road of the Dead. The assistant Ponyiratsen rolls the egg back and the
process is repeated eight times. A sickle is then slid along the mat
eight times and omens are taken from the direction of its point, just
as they were taken from the direction of the pointed end of the egg.
When this is finished the elder Ponyiratsen shakes the two cloths eight
times each to get rid of any evil there may be in them and returns them
to their owners, and as she picks up the mat, gives it a flick and
sends the egg, which is still lying on it, as far as possible in the
direction opposite to that of the Road of the Dead, saying as she does
so, “I am throwing away all evil fortune and poverty.” She then shakes
the mat eight times, and both the Ponyiratsen go to their own houses.
The wife rolls up the mat and stands it on end inside the door between
the mpongki and the lhurhui. The couple must sleep apart that night,
and the mat must not be removed before cockcrow next morning. This
ceremony of the Ponyiratsen is regarded by Lhotas as a sort of
initiation into married life. It is only performed for each individual
once in his life. For example, were a bachelor to marry a widow it
would be performed for him. Were a married man to take a spinster as a
second wife it would be performed for her. But were a married man to
take a widow it would not be performed at all.
Among the Southern Lhotas there are certain differences of detail. The
first ambassador is usually an old man of the bridegroom’s clan. If the
girl’s parents drink the offered “madhu” negotiations are considered to
have begun. Later the old man brings a present of meat and “madhu” and
says, “This is so-and-so’s meat and ‘madhu.’ Will you eat and drink
it?” If the girl’s parents say, “Yes,” the couple are regarded as
engaged, and the man will help in his future father-in-law’s fields and
make himself generally useful, though he sleeps with his parents till
after tsoyuta. For that ceremony the bridegroom prepares “madhu” and
kills and cuts up a pig, and goes to the girl’s father’s house
accompanied either by an old man of his clan and an old woman of the
girl’s clan or vice versa. The old woman enters the house first,
followed by the old man, the bridegroom bringing up the rear. The
girl’s parents offer “madhu” to the old man and woman, drinking in turn
some of the “madhu” which has been brought. It is not mixed as among
the Northern Lhotas. The engaged couple sit on the bed in the lhurhui,
the man to the right and the woman to the left. The old man and woman
sit opposite to them, each holding a leaf containing six pieces of the
pork they have brought, and all four swing their arms backwards and
forwards, while the old man and woman say, “Live long and have many
children.” The lantsoa ceremony is performed as among the Northern
Lhotas. For the halam ceremony a few details are different. The bride
and bridegroom are accompanied to the kithandro, not by two women, but
by an old man of the bridegroom’s clan and the wife of a man of his
clan. The bridegroom does not wave his spear round the hearth, but
carries six pieces of meat and six bobbins of thread, while his wife
carries five pieces of meat and five bobbins of thread, which the old
man takes from the bridegroom’s hand, and the old woman from the
bride’s hand. There is no Hantsen as among the Northern Lhotas.
A well-to-do Lhota usually has two or often three wives. Very
occasionally a man will have four or even five. All are of equal
status, though the oldest wife naturally occupies a position of some
authority in the household. The husband usually sleeps with her in the
middle room. It is forbidden for him to have connection with more than
one wife on the same night. Possibly a vestige of a former system of
group marriage is found in the custom of a Lhota who expects to be away
from home for some time giving his brother permission to have marital
relations with his wife during his absence. [159] On a man’s death his
widow or widows are expected to go to his brother, who will not,
however, receive them into his house till all the ornaments on the dead
man’s grave have been cleared away and he has finally gone to the Land
of the Dead. A man who thus takes his dead brother’s wife performs no
marriage ceremony and pays no marriage price. If the woman marries a
man of another clan, the late husband’s clan realize from the new
husband a marriage price equal to the original marriage price. If a
woman does not wish to marry again she may keep one of her husband’s
mithan heads instead of putting it on his grave. This is equivalent to
a vow of perpetual widowhood.
The money which is paid by the husband for his wife is known
collectively as oman (marriage-price), but is divided into a number of
items. The first payment of all is known as chüka, and is paid not to
the girl’s parents, but to her mother’s father or mother’s brother. The
amount is Re. 1. This is paid as soon as tsoyuta has taken place. The
second item is nzuiman (Rs. 8 to Rs. 10), paid to the girl’s parents as
the cost of bringing her up. Thirdly comes nvaman (Rs. 10), the price
of not working in his father-in-law’s house. The fourth payment is
kitsoman (Rs. 2), the price of not building his father-in-law’s house.
The third and fourth items are of course only paid in cases where the
bridegroom prefers to pay compensation rather than work in his
father-in-law’s house. The fifth item is halamman, the cost of the pork
given to the father-in-law at the halam ceremony. The sixth is
tsangchüman (Rs. 2), paid in cases where the bridegroom does not
distribute wood to members of his father-in-law’s clan. The seventh is
sontsoman (four annas), paid if the bridegroom does not build a granary
for his father-in-law. The eighth is tsoroman (Re. 1), the price of the
bride’s breasts, and the ninth lentamoman (Re. 1), price of intimacy
with the bride. Men with land usually let the girl’s parents cut one
field once. If not, a tenth payment of one rupee or two rupees is made
instead. The eleventh item is otyai-etsoman (the price of feeding the
bride’s brothers), the marriage-price proper. This is shared by the
girl’s father and brothers. It amounts to about two hundred and fifty
baskets of rice, or thirty rupees if paid in cash. The rice or money is
paid in instalments, often at long intervals. The result is that it is
by no means uncommon to find a son paying off the last instalment of
his old widowed mother’s marriage-price. Should a woman die without
children her husband makes a final payment varying from two rupees to
five rupees, called etchhiman (“price of death”). Once they have
received etchhiman the girl’s parents can claim no further instalments
of otyai-etsoman. If the woman dies leaving children a payment of one
or two rupees, called mingishi, is made to her parents or their heirs,
who can in this case claim any of the otyai-etsoman which may be
outstanding.
Divorce.
There is no ceremony connected with divorce as there is among the Aos,
and the proceedings are not protracted, the wife generally settling the
matter by running away to the house either of her parents or some
admirer. In that case all that remains to be done is to discuss the
return of the marriage-price. Sometimes the girl’s parents return the
full amount of the marriage-price which they have received up to date,
plus a fine of ten rupees, and sometimes, in cases where the
marriage-price has already been divided up and spent, it is arranged
that the aggrieved husband shall recover the marriage-price from
whoever marries his runaway wife. In cases where the woman runs off
with another man the co-respondent has to pay the husband the full
amount of the marriage-price, plus compensation amounting to fifty or a
hundred rupees. It is very rarely that a man simply turns his wife out.
If he does so he cannot recover his marriage-price and has to pay her
parents or their heirs a fine of ten rupees. He naturally, therefore,
puts up with a good deal from his wife, sooner than lose his
marriage-price. Among the Aos the divorced wife can claim a share of
the household store of grain. Among the Lhotas she can only claim the
thread and chickens she brought with her at her marriage or their
equivalent, together with the clothes she wears and all the thread
there may be in the house. Any ornaments given her by her husband must
be returned to him.
Death Ceremonies.
In cases where the death agony is prolonged the Changs cut a
carrying-string on the threshold of the house in order to release the
spirit, but there appears to be no such practice among the Lhotas. At
death the nearest relation present closes the eyes and washes the face
of the corpse. No hole is made in the roof to let the spirit out as
among the Konyaks. A very old man ties a cowrie to a chicken’s leg and
places it for a moment in the dead man’s hand. He then kills it in
order that it may go clucking along the Road of the Dead and give
warning that the deceased is coming. It is hung by the neck above the
head of the corpse, and after the burial the wings are cut off and
stuck up on the left wall of the house and the body either thrown away
or given to the buriers (mungpen) to eat. When the deceased is a man
who has taken heads, or killed a tiger, a dog is led into the house on
a string and the string put into the hand of the corpse for a minute.
After the body has been buried the dog is killed in order that it may
go barking down the Road of the Dead and frighten away the ghosts of
enemies and tigers slain by the dead man during his lifetime. The flesh
is eaten by the mungpen. The corpse is buried as soon after death as
possible. A grave about six feet deep is dug in front of the man’s
house. The body is buried fully dressed, and often decorated with all
the ornaments worn during life, if the deceased so desired. Nothing of
foreign manufacture may be worn by a corpse. A cornelian bead is tied
to the dead man’s wrist to give to a spirit called Etchhilivanthamo,
whom he will meet on the Road of the Dead, in exchange for a drink of
water. Among the Northern Lhotas a sharp piece of bamboo is also put
under the head of the corpse at the time of burial, in order that the
soul of the deceased may be able to cut any creepers which he may find
obstructing his way. The body is wrapped in two or three good cloths
and carried out of the house by the mungpen. Over it in the grave are
put short lengths of bamboo laid crosswise, and on them two planks from
the dead man’s bed, which are in turn covered with a piece of bamboo
matting. In certain villages of the Northern Lhotas rich men were till
recently buried in wooden coffins called “boats” (orhung), cut out of
one log of wood, with a rude representation of a hornbill’s head and
tail at the head and foot respectively. [160] It is noticeable that
they were made in villages which do not make dug-out canoes, [161] or
indeed anything more serviceable than a type of bamboo raft which
“floats” about six inches under water. These coffins took a
considerable time to make and were begun as soon as the illness took a
bad turn. If a man recovered after his coffin had been made he was
supposed to live a long time. [162]
Stones and thorns are heaped on the top of the grave to prevent pigs
and dogs scratching up the earth, and a low fence is built round it.
Two bamboo posts are then put up, one at the head and one at the foot,
with a cross-bar between them. In the case of a man’s grave a basket
containing a gourd of “madhu,” a little boiled rice and six pieces of
meat is hung on the post at the head. His wooden dao-holder, and
bear’s-hair wig, cloth, cowrie lengta, ivory armlets, etc., are hung on
the cross-bar, and his spears are stuck upright on the grave. In the
case of a woman’s grave only the basket is hung at the head, containing
five instead of six pieces of meat. A fire is lighted on the grave. For
six days after the death of a man and five days after the death of a
woman no member of the household must speak to a stranger or kill any
living thing. When this period of “genna” is over the man’s possessions
are removed from the grave, and imitation spears, or very old ones, put
in their place. On the cross-bar above the grave round bamboo basket
balls are put to represent the number of times the deceased has done
the head-taking “genna.” Sometimes roughly carved wooden heads are
used. Tigers made from a short length of bamboo, with short bamboo
“legs” and “tail,” commemorate his prowess in the chase. [163] On this
day the wings of the “death chicken” are taken down from the wall, and
cut with a dao on the step between mpongki and lhurhui, six times for a
man and five times for a woman, and a prayer is offered that the dead
person will not haunt the house, and in the case of a man who has taken
heads a mithan and a pig are sacrificed by his clan. For a woman, or a
man who has not taken heads, only a pig is sacrificed. The fire is kept
alight on the grave and the offerings of food are renewed until the
tuku emung, when the dead man is supposed finally to take his departure
to the Land of the Dead, and all ornaments being removed the grave
becomes part of the village street again.
Offerings to the dead are made not only on the grave, but also by the
side of the path from the village which leads to the Land of the Dead
under Wokha Hill. Immediately after death two relations, calling upon
the dead man to follow them, go down the path, taking with them a gourd
of “madhu” and a stick nicked to show the “gennas” the deceased has
performed and the heads he has taken. The stick is stuck up by the side
of the path and the gourd tied to it. These are to support and refresh
the deceased on his way. When the six days of “genna” are over, in the
case of a man, a bamboo erection (nritangpeng) is put up by the side of
the path, with tallies of heads taken and tigers slain such as are put
on the grave. On the memorial of one mighty hunter the writer saw two
elephants made of black cloth stuffed with straw. For a man who has
done no “gennas” a single bamboo pole is put up. On the tuku emung,
when all ornaments are removed from the grave, the final offerings are
made by the side of the path. [164] The relations go out before dawn,
and for a man erect a little bamboo platform or tiny altar composed of
a small flat stone supported on little bits of bamboo. On it are laid
six pieces of meat and some rice and scraps of any favourite fruit of
the deceased. A new dao-belt, with a miniature dao-holder, is stretched
between two sticks, and a little wooden dao and spear are put near it.
Sometimes a little bamboo platform (eno) with a little notched stick
for the ghost to use as a ladder [165] is put up, and on it are laid
ear ornaments and offerings of food and drink, and imitation beads made
from pith. This offering made, the living have performed their duty
towards the dead, and the village can begin a new year with little fear
of hauntings. [166]
Such are the usual funeral ceremonies, but under certain circumstances
the normal procedure is not followed. An infant is usually buried in
the mpongki, the reason given being the rather pathetic one that its
parents do not like to think of it lying out in the rain and the cold.
If a man was killed in war he was buried outside the village and no
ornaments were put on his grave. Like all Nagas, the Lhotas regard
certain forms of death with horror, as being manifestations of
supernatural displeasure. [167] Thus it is that when anyone dies by
drowning, or by falling from a tree, or by fire, or by accidentally
falling on his own spear, or in childbirth, or is killed by a wild
animal, very strict purificatory rites have to be performed, and great
care is taken to burn or cut down a tree from which a man has fallen
and been killed. Except in the case of a man killed by a tiger or
leopard the corpse is buried near the place of death, whether inside or
outside the village. An account of the rites following a death by
drowning will illustrate the procedure followed. The body is buried by
the nearest relations present, no bead being put on the wrist or
ornaments on the grave. Anyone who touches the corpse must at the first
opportunity throw away all ornaments and clothing he was wearing at the
time. Other people present need not do more than throw away a thread
from their clothes and the cotton wool from their ears, and scrape a
shaving off their spears and dao handles. Any fish caught before the
man was drowned, if the catastrophe took place while fishing, as is
often the case, may be cooked and eaten on the spot, but nothing must
be carried away. Each man as he leaves the river flicks the water with
his right hand and says, “Take away all evil, O river.” As soon as the
news of the disaster, for such it is, reaches the village an old man
comes out and makes a fire on the path, using a fire-stick to do so.
Every man before he can enter the village must step through the smoke
of the fire, and hold his ornaments and weapons in it for a moment.
[168] Someone is standing ready with a “chunga” of water, and each man
washes his hands before he passes on. Even a stranger from another
village must do this before he can enter his own village, lest he
should bring with him the evil with which he is contaminated. The house
and all the property of the dead man are abandoned. His money is simply
thrown on the ground and left there. His live-stock cannot be killed,
for that would defile the dao. The animals are just left to wander
about, or are driven over a cliff if they become a nuisance. [169] No
money or debts in kind due to the dead man can be claimed, and his
heirs in turn need not pay any of his debts. His house is left to fall
into ruins with all it contains. His crops are abandoned and any land
he was cutting that year must next be cut by a man of another clan,
though an old man of the dead man’s clan may take rent for it. For the
purification of the members of the household the following rites are
performed among the Northern Lhotas. Friends of the dead man build a
little shed and put some clothes and food in it. An old man of his
clan, on the day after the death, lights a fire in front of the house
and sacrifices a cock. The whole household must then come out of the
house stark naked and step over the fire. They then enter the shed,
where they put on clothes and remain for six days without speaking to
anyone. Friends bring them food, and build a new house for them. Among
the Southern Lhotas the usual custom is for the household to remain in
the old house for six days. A cock is then sacrificed, and they pass
through the fire and wash their hands and feet and go to a little house
built for them outside the village, where they remain for six days,
being fed by their friends. They then again are made to pass through
the fire and change their clothes and wash and have their hair cut,
after which they are ceremonially clean. The task of the man who
sacrifices the chicken is regarded as a particularly risky one. Lhotas
near the Sema border usually call in a Sema to perform this unpleasant
duty. The Sema is not over nice in these matters and willingly
sacrifices the chicken, receiving as his reward any of the live-stock
of the deceased which he likes to kill and carry away. He must not,
however, take away beads or money which might pass from hand to hand
and eventually reach some Lhota. The people of Yekhum were recently
very much distressed because some Semas carried off some money which
had been thrown away, and complained that they would not know whether
any rupee in circulation was from this tainted source or not. If a man
is killed by a tiger or leopard the body is not buried, but is put on a
platform in a tree and panjis are set underneath. This is the only
example of tree “burial” among the Lhotas, [170] though the Aos
invariably lay out their dead on machans, and the Konyaks beyond them
actually put their dead bodies in trees in certain villages. Such
horror have the Lhotas of being killed by wild beasts that if a man who
is being chased by an elephant throws down his load and the elephant
touches it he may never pick it up again, for it “belongs to the
elephant,” and were he to take it back some elephant would assuredly
take his life in exchange. Similarly the shaft of a spear broken by a
tiger may never be used again, or the owner will have to give his life
in exchange for the spear. No direct descendant of a man killed by a
tiger or leopard may eat meat from a tiger or leopard’s kill until he
has removed the curse by cutting off the head of a tiger. The wife of a
man under this prohibition must observe it, but the husband of a woman
under it may eat meat from a kill, but must not give it to his wife. No
one may eat the flesh of an animal which has been drowned, or has died
in giving birth to young. Were Lhotas strictly logical they would
prohibit the eating of meat from a tiger’s or leopard’s kill. As it is,
it is regarded as unclean and meat is prohibited for anyone who has to
remain ceremonially clean. Ordinarily, however, it may be eaten, for to
forbid it entirely would be a great hardship in a country where such
large numbers of live-stock come to this untimely end. Lightning, as is
only natural, is looked upon as an instrument of supernatural
vengeance. Even if no one be killed, a house struck by lightning is
abandoned with all it contains. A tree struck by lightning cannot be
cut up for firewood or used for any purpose whatever. Should a field be
struck, no crop is cut that year from the place where the lightning
fell. The rest of the crop may be eaten, but no seed is kept from that
field. The stone adzes which are sometimes found are regarded as
thunderbolts and are called Potsophü (“Potsos’ axes”), and no Lhota
cares to touch one.
Miscellaneous Beliefs.
[Medicine Men.] Some Lhotas say that the peculiar powers believed to be
possessed by medicine men (ratsen) are hereditary. [171] Most people
hold, however, that anyone, man or woman, is liable to develop the
symptoms which are associated with ratsen. The person affected falls
into a fit at the dark of the moon, and while in this state says that
friends are coming, though none of the bystanders can see anything.
These fits are liable to occur throughout life at the change of the
moon, and are certainly very violent. I myself saw Yimbomo of Rephyim,
a well-known ratsen, fall into a sudden fit down at the Doyang river
when a large number of men were “poisoning” the water for fish. He
laughed and shouted incoherently, and kept throwing himself onto the
ground with such violence, that two men had to be told off to restrain
him. In order to bring a man round from these fits powdered ginger is
blown into his nose and ears. When a man shows these symptoms for the
first time an experienced ratsen is called in to diagnose the case. If
he proclaim it to be genuine he strangles a cock, from the head of
which he is believed to extract a small stone called ratse’ha. This
stone he gives to the budding ratsen, who is supposed to keep it inside
his head, and occasionally even show it to very intimate friends. It is
said that a few years ago ’Ntengo of Lungsachung was foolish enough to
show his stone to a rival ratsen called Khumeshiyo of the same village,
who grabbed it and managed to retain possession of it. The result was
that ’Ntengo went mad and died soon afterwards.
Every ratsen possesses a “familiar” (sonyo), which is usually a
leopard, [172] but occasionally a snake. The Lhotas are perfectly
familiar with the “leopard men” who are found among the Semas, and
clearly distinguish them from their own ratsen. They say that the soul
of the Sema “leopard man” actually enters his leopard, while the ratsen
is merely very intimately connected with his sonyo, which is an
ordinary leopard indistinguishable in form from other leopards. If,
however, the sonyo of a ratsen is killed the ratsen will sicken and
perhaps die unless he can get another. As the powers of the ratsen grow
so his sonyo increases in size, until in time it may even become
unmanageable. This happened to a ratsen from Akuk called Mungchemo. His
leopard became so big and fierce that he begged the villagers to kill
it. They ringed it, but Mungchemo, who was helping, shouted in his
excitement and so gave the leopard sufficient warning for it to escape.
This failure to get rid of his sonyo so weighed on his mind that he
eventually committed suicide. Ordinarily, however, the sonyo is
believed to be under such excellent control that its owner can call it
up from the jungle at will. This he rarely does, however, for if
another man sees his sonyo the ratsen becomes ill. There are numerous
stories, however, of leopards having been seen actually in ratsens’
houses. Naturally a ratsen ordinarily objects strongly to his sonyo
being killed, for it may entail his own death. The result is that
several villages have told their ratsen that since he cannot stop his
leopard killing their pigs they cannot allow him to be present when
they ring the leopard, for at leopard hunts the ratsen is supposed to
warn the quarry either by shouting to it or spitting on bits of
worm-cast and throwing them towards it. In some places if a ratsen’s
leopard is hunted and killed he lays a cloth over the body as a mark of
respect. The fits from which a ratsen suffers are believed to be in
some way connected with his sonyo. They usually occur at the dark of
the moon, at which time he has most influence over his leopard, and
when he falls in a fit the soul of the leopard is believed to walk over
his body. The soul is of course invisible, but visible tracks are
supposed occasionally to be left on the ratsen’s chest.
In addition to the ordinary food taboos a ratsen is forbidden to eat
bamboo rats, frogs, or king-crows. They are supposed to be able to
foretell the future by gazing into “madhu,” or water held in a leaf,
but their chief occupation in life is to “extract” foreign bodies from
the persons of sick people. This is always done inside a house where
the bad light makes sleight of hand easy. The patient is rubbed with a
leaf, usually a wild lemon leaf, upon which the ratsen repeatedly
spits. Finally he will show the patient a small pebble or a bit of leaf
or hair, which he says was causing all the trouble by lodging in the
body. In cases of laboured breathing the ratsen says that there is a
hole in the lungs. He then by sleight of hand makes a leaf seem to
disappear into the patient’s chest, and after a few minutes extracts it
and announces that the hole is now stopped up. Coughs are usually cured
by pretending to extract a lump of hair from the throat. Usually the
foreign body which is extracted is simply thrown away anywhere, but in
cases of rheumatism, which is regarded as in some way especially
connected with lightning, the ratsen “extracts” bits of wood from the
patient’s joints and throws them away near a tree which has been struck
by lightning. Into the trunk of the tree he sticks a piece of iron,
which he leaves there, and throws down one or two eggs as an offering.
Often the ratsen will say that the illness is due not to the presence
of a foreign body, but to the capture of the patient’s soul by an evil
spirit. He will then announce the whereabouts of the evil spirit in
question, and the appropriate ceremonies must be performed. These have
been described under the section on private ceremonies.
[Luck-stones.] The Lhota believes that certain stones called oha bring
good fortune. They are smooth, water-worn stones, varying in size from
that of a man’s head to that of a walnut, and are kept either under the
mingetung, or at the foot of the carved post of the “morung,” or by
individuals in their houses or granaries. Ratsen, however, as has been
mentioned above, are believed to have the peculiar habit of keeping
their oha inside their heads. Those kept under the mingetung are
usually large, and on them the luck of the whole village depends. Those
kept in the “morung” affect the prosperity of the section of the
village to which they belong. Stones of these two classes have been
handed down from generation to generation and are never added to
nowadays, though they are believed occasionally to increase
spontaneously. But individuals still from time to time find small oha
in the jungle and bring them home to keep as private luck-stones. The
distinguishing mark of an oha is that it should be round and smooth,
and be found resting on the ground in a little nest it has made for
itself. [173] Anyone finding such a stone brings it home, and then
notices whether his family increases quickly, or he has good crops, or
is particularly successful in trade. He thus finds out what particular
form of good luck is attached to the stone in question. Bad oha are not
unknown. One kind called ekyulung (“coughing-stones”) causes the owner
to fall ill. Yet to throw them away would mean certain death. The
possessor of an oha which brings luck in trade keeps it with his money.
Similarly a rice oha is kept in the granary. A famous oha is the
Phi-tsong-lung (“drying-increasing-stone”), which is in the possession
of a member of the Othui clan at Pangti. It is said to be a portion of
the famous stone at Kezakenoma, [174] called by the Lhotas
Ketsarhontsü, which miraculously increased rice dried on it, and was
broken off by Rangti, grandson of Longchentang, who according to one
tradition came out of the earth and founded the Mipongsandri phratry.
This was before the Angamis, Semas, Rengmas and Lhotas split up and
became separate tribes. Formerly the Othui clan used to provide one of
the Puthis at Pangti, and the Puthi of the Othui clan always used the
Phi-tsong-lung as a pounder for husking the rice at the ceremony of
eating the first-fruits (mshe etak). There are only a few broken
fragments of the stone left now, which are kept with other oha in the
possessor’s granary. Oha are treated with great respect. The ceremony
connected with them at the Oyantsoa “genna” has already been described.
Before doing the Liritang ceremony at the beginning of harvest a man
must make a small offering of meat to his oha. [175] At the time of the
Pikuchak “genna,” too, all possessors of rice oha must inspect them,
taking care to wash their hands both before and after. It is curious
that the reason given why the Nyimshamo kindred of the Othui clan in
Yekhum cannot set up stones after doing the mithan sacrifice, is that
they have never been allowed to touch the village oha, when they had to
be carried on migration, or indeed to have had anything to do with oha.
What the connection is, however, between the two kinds of stone is not
precisely stated.
[Charms.] Love potions are commonest in the villages near the plains. I
remember a youthful widow of Sanis who was so indiscreet as to get
engaged to two men in two different villages at the same time. When the
tangle was brought to me to unravel she said she really had only meant
to get engaged to one, but the other one had rubbed a love charm on her
neck—at least she thought that was what he must have done, though she
had not actually noticed him do so.
Certain old women are supposed to possess the knowledge of these
charms, which is handed down from mother to daughter. One Amhono of
Pyangsa is said to retail a root called loha, which has to be ground up
and given to the shy loved one with cooked fish. [176] If the suit is
hopeless the recipient of the root removes all doubt by being sick on
the spot. My informant had never seen the root; he had only heard of
it. Another charm is a feather of a bird called tsentsü—probably
mythical, at least I could never find out what it was. If a man can
once touch a woman’s hand with this she is his for life.
Witchcraft, in the evil sense of the word, was probably never common
among the Lhotas, though the practice used to exist of making a straw
image of an enemy in another village, and after addressing it by name
spearing it. This, however, could never be done by one Lhota to
another. It is believed to be possible, too, to bewitch a man by
calling a stone or bit of wood by his name and cursing it. This belief
in the power given by knowledge of a man’s name is of course
world-wide, and among the Lhotas gives rise to the custom of giving a
false name at birth in order that the lurking evil spirits may go away
thinking they have the real name. Besides their ordinary name most, if
not all, Lhotas have a private name which is never revealed to any but
relations or intimate friends. If two men bear the same name they
regard themselves as bound together by a particularly close tie and
address each other as akam. Similarly Lhotas are particular that no
enemy should get hold of bits of their hair or clippings from their
finger or toe nails. While the Naga Labour Corps were on their way back
from France some Lhotas planned to offer to cut some Semas’ hair for
them, and do “genna” with the clippings when they got home. [177] The
plan was only just vetoed in time by one of their own headmen. The
commonest charm against evil spirits is a kind of wild mint called
rarakham (Ocimum basilicum). [178] At all “gennas,” or when going to a
place supposed to be haunted by evil spirits, a Lhota wears a sprig in
the lobe of his ear and rubs some in his hair. A small onion (sandhra)
or a cowrie carried on the person is also considered to be effective.
Apparently the only charm used to make crops grow is a piece of
rhinoceros (molung) bone hidden near the field. [179] It must be many,
many years since any Lhota has killed one of these animals, but I am
assured that pieces of bone are still carefully treasured, though they
are never shown to strangers.
[Ghosts.] Ghost stories abound. The following one, which was told me by
a man from Rephyim, is typical: “One day I was coming up from the
fields with others when I saw my elder brother’s wife coming down to
meet us. We called out to her, but she did not answer, only coughed and
spat and turned aside into the jungle. When I got up to the village I
found she had died in her husband’s house while we were down at the
fields.” Another one, also from Rephyim, runs as follows: “When my
brother and I were children we met our uncle on our way up from the
fields, but when he got near us he disappeared up into the sky and
threw down a big stick and a stone. The stick just missed us, but the
stone fell into my brother’s basket.” A very common story is that of
hearing someone cutting jungle near the path, and on going there
finding nothing. It is very unlucky to be touched by a ghost (omon). A
man called Mhomo is said to have been caught by the leg by a ghost and
died as a result. If the sound of cutting is heard from a bamboo clump,
and it is found that there is no one there, the owner of the bamboos
will die in the course of the year. To hear at night the sound of
someone stamping down the earth on a grave means that there will be a
death in the village shortly. The only ghostly animal I have heard of
is a serow said to exist near Okotso. One man’s gun is said to have
missed fire ten times while the animal stood and looked at him, while
another man threw his spear clean through it, and instead of killing
the serow was ill himself for a year. [180]
[Dreams.] Like all primitive people the Lhota attaches great importance
to dreams. [181] In them he believes that the souls of the dead visit
him, and his own soul leaves his body and wanders. [182] Thus, if a
sick man in his delirium dreams that he is in a certain place he knows
that his soul is under the influence of some evil spirit which is
drawing it to that place, and takes steps to appease the fiend with
sacrifice. Or if a man fights with another man in his dreams he
believes that the two souls really meet and fight. To dream of the
building of a new “morung” forebodes ill to the village, for the
dreamer’s soul has travelled to the land of the dead and seen a new
village being prepared there for those who are about to die. If a man
dreams that he is carrying a child along the Road of the Dead the child
will die, and the dreamer may die too. But to dream that he is driven
back by dead men means that he will have long life, for the souls of
those gone before are not yet ready to receive him. [183] If in his
dream a man go to another village he will not live long, for the other
village is really that in the Land of the Dead, to which his soul has
gone on ahead. Similarly, to kill a chicken in a dream is bad, for the
chicken seen is the soul of that which will be killed at the dreamer’s
death not long after. It is most unlucky to dream of dead men, for it
means that they have come to call the dreamer. The only way of averting
the disaster is to kill a big boar and give the meat to an old
professional dreamer (hahang), who offers it to the souls of the dead
in his dreams. The night before hunting too it is most unlucky to dream
of a successful hunt, for it means that the dreamer’s spirit has been
out hunting and driven all the game away. [184]
Many dreams are regarded as symbolical. For example, dream water = real
crops, so that a vision of a deep pool means a good harvest, but a dry
nullah means a lean year. Similarly, dream jungle roots = real meat, so
that to dream of digging and finding many roots means that large
presents of meat will be received, but unsuccessful digging means small
presents. Again, dream fire = real children. A fire which burns up well
when the dreamer lights it means a big family, but a fire that goes out
foretells deaths in the home. To see an earthquake or one’s own teeth
falling out is regarded as particularly unlucky and forebodes the
certain death either of the dreamer or of one of his family. Anything
red, such as a red spear or red goat’s-hair, represents man’s blood and
means that someone will get hurt.
[View of the Forces of Nature.] The earth is regarded as flat and
stretching to an unknown distance in all directions. In the west, where
the sky meets it, lives a big snake which sometimes causes earthquakes
by moving its body. [185] During an earthquake the meat rack over the
fire and the vat in which the daily supply of rice is kept are seized
and held by the inmates of a Lhota house. If this is not done it is
believed that supplies will fail the next year. [186] The sky is
regarded as being hard like a stone, and forming the floor of the world
of the Potsos, who in turn have another sky and Potso world above them,
and so on for an unknown number of worlds. It used to be nearer to the
earth than it is now, but for some reason not known it has gradually
got further and further away. The sun is a flaming plate of hard metal
as big as a piece of ground on which one basket of seed rice is sown.
It travels along its path in the sky during the day and at night
travels back under the earth and lights the Land of the Dead. The moon
is like it. In fact, it was once the brighter and hotter of the two,
till the present sun, seeing that the earth was being scorched and
burnt with the terrible heat, smeared the face of the moon with
cow-dung, so that it now gives a very feeble light. [187] An eclipse of
the sun or moon occurs when a giant dog which lives in the sky tries to
eat them. [188] An eclipse means that many great men will die, and the
day after one is kept as an emung. Stars are little points of fire, and
are vaguely regarded as being endowed with life. Shooting stars are the
falling dung of stars. The clouds have nothing to do with rain, which
is poured down by the Potsos from reservoirs in the sky. They are
simply the accumulated smoke of thousands of fires all over the earth.
The belief with regard to hail is a curious one. The Potsos who live in
the sky have above them yet another world of Potsos, who are evil and
try to injure the Potsos living nearest to us by throwing down huge
lumps of ice on them. But whenever a fusillade begins the lower Potsos
take care to walk about with the door of their houses held over their
backs like rain-shields. The lumps of ice are shattered on the doors
and only reach the earth as small fragments which men call hail.