1. Habitat. The Lushei chiefs now rule over the country between the Kurnaphuli river and its main tributary, the Tuilianpui on the west, and the Tyao and Koladyne river on the east, while their southern boundary is roughly a line drawn east and west through the junction of the Mat and Koladyne rivers and their most northerly villages are found on the borders of the Silchar district. Within this area, roughly 7,500 square miles, there are only a few villages ruled over by chiefs of other clans, and outside it there are but few true Lushei villages, though I am told that there are villages of people very closely connected with the Lusheis, on the southern borders of Sylhet, in Tipperah and in the North Cachar Hills, and there are a few in the Chittagong Hill tracts.

2. Appearance and physical characteristics. All the Lushai Kuki clans resemble each other very closely in appearance and the Mongolian type of countenance prevails. One meets, however, many exceptions, which may be due to the foreign blood introduced by the many captives taken from the plains and from neighbouring tribes; but these are not worth considering, and the description of the Kuki written by Lt. Stewart close on 80 years ago cannot be improved on. “The Kukis are a short, sturdy race of men with a goodly development of muscle. Their legs are, generally speaking, short in comparison with the length of their bodies, and their arms long. The face is nearly as broad as it is long and is generally round or square, the [2]cheek bones high, broad and prominent, eyes small and almond-shaped, the nose short and flat, with wide nostrils. The women appear more squat than the men even, but are strong and lusty.” In Lushai clans both sexes are as a rule rather slighter made than among the Thado and cognate clans, whom Lt. Stewart was describing. Adopting the scale given in the handbook of the Anthropological Institute, the colour of the skin varies between dark yellow-brown, dark olive, copper-coloured and yellow olive. Beards and whiskers are almost unknown, and a Lushai, even when able to grow a moustache, which is not often, pulls out all the hairs except those at the corners of his mouth. The few persons with hairy faces may, I think, be safely said to be of impure blood.

The hair is worn, by both sexes, in a knot over the nape of the neck, and carefully parted in the middle. The young folk of about the marrying age devote much care to their hair, dressing it daily with much pigs’ fat. Later in life they grow careless, and widows allow their hair to hang as it chooses. Children’s hair is left to grow as it likes till it is long enough to tie up. Curly hair or hair with a pronounced wave in it is uncommon, and is much objected to.

The women are prolific, five to seven children being about the average, but the mortality among the children is so great that few parents can boast of more than two or three grown up children.

Both men and women are good walkers and hill-climbers, which is only natural, but for a race which lives exclusively on the hilltops the number of good swimmers is very large. Most men are not afraid of the water, and manage rafts very skilfully, making long journeys on them in the rains.

Abortion is not infrequently resorted to when a widow who is living in her late husband’s house, and therefore, as described later, expected to remain chaste, finds herself enceinte. Suicide is also rather common, poison being the usual means chosen. The cause is generally some painful and incurable disease, but very old persons with no one to support them sometimes prefer the unknown future to the miserable present.

3. History. The existing Lushei Chiefs all claim descent from a certain Thang-ura, who is sometimes said to have sprung from the [3]union of a Burman with a Paihte woman, but, according to the Paihtes, the Lusheis are descended from Boklua, an illegitimate son of the Paihte Chief Ngehguka. The Thados say that some hunters tracking a serao noticed the foot-marks of a child following those of the animal, and on surrounding the doe serao they found it suckling a child, who became the great Chief Thang-ura, or, as they call him, “Thangul.” From Thang-ura the pedigree of all the living chiefs is fairly accurately established. The Lusheis, in common with the Thados and other Kuki tribes, attach great importance to their genealogies; and pedigrees, given at an interval of many years, and by persons living far apart, have been found to agree in a wonderful manner. From comparison of these genealogies and from careful enquiries lasting over many years, I estimate that Thang-ura must have lived early in the eighteenth century. His first village is said to have been at Tlangkua, north of Falam. It is probable that he personally ruled over only a small area. From him sprang six lines of Thang-ur chiefs:—(1) Rokum, (2) Zādeng, (3) Thangluah, (4) Pallian, (5) Rivung, and (6) Sailo. To the north the country was occupied by the Sukte, Paihte, and Thado clans. These appear to have been firmly established under regular chiefs; but to the west the hills appear to have been inhabited by small communities formed largely of blood relations and probably each at feud with its neighbours. Therefore when want of good jhuming land and the aggressions of the eastern clans made it necessary for the Thang-ur to move, they naturally went westward. The Rokum, the eldest branch, are said to have passed through the hills now occupied by the Lushais, and some of their descendants are said to be found on the Tipperah-Sylhet border. The Zādeng followed the Rokum, and, passing through Champhai, moved westwards and about 1830 ruled some 1,000 houses divided into four villages situated near the banks of the Tlong or Dallesari river, round the Darlung peak. In alliance with Sailo chiefs of Lalul’s family, they attacked and defeated successively the Hualgno (a Lushei family settled between Tyao and Manipur rivers) and the Pallian, who were their allies against the Hualgno. Subsequently the Zādeng quarrelled with Mangpura, then the most powerful Sailo chief, who, dying about [4]that time, bequeathed the feud to his relatives, one of whom, Vutaia, prosecuted it with such vigour that the Zādeng, in spite of an alliance with the Manipur Rajah—who, however, proved but a broken reed—had to flee southwards, and their last independent village, numbering only 100 houses, broke up on the death of the chief, which occurred at Chengpui, near Lungleh, about 1857. The Zādeng chiefs are reputed to have been cruel and arbitrary rulers, whose defeat was not regretted even by their own followers. Their descendants have retained these qualities, and, in spite of much assistance, have failed to regain their position in the world.

The Thangluah and Rivung took a more southerly course. The latter penetrated into what is now the Chittagong Hill tracts, and a chief named Vanhnuai-Thanga had a very large village on the Longteroi hill, between the Chengri and Kassalong rivers. He died about 1850, and shortly after his death the village was destroyed by Vutaia. The remnant of the Rivungs fled to Hill Tipperah, where Liantlura, a great-grandson of Vanhnuai-Thanga, had a village up till a few years ago, and there is one small hamlet under a Rivung chief in the Aijal sub-division of the Lushai Hills.

The Thangluah penetrated as far as Demagri and Barkhul, where Rothangpuia (Ruttonpoia) became known to us, first as a foe, and then as a faithful ally. Rothangpuia’s son Lalchheva, fretting at our control, moved his village across our boundary, in spite of a warning that Government could on no account protect him if he did so. Very shortly after this move he was attacked by Hausāta, a Chin chief, and his village totally destroyed, many persons being killed and more taken captive. All the mithan (tame bison) were driven off and the chief escaped with little more than the one cloth he was wearing, and now the once prosperous Thangluah clan is represented by only a few poverty-stricken hamlets round Demagri.

The Pallian followed the same route as the Zādeng. The best known chiefs of this clan are Sibuta (Sheeboot) and Lalsuktla (Lalchokla). Sibuta is said in Mackenzie’s “Eastern Frontier” to have thrown off the Tipperah yoke with 25,000 houses. He died close to Aijal, and his memorial stone is at the first stage on the Aijal-Lungleh road. It is extremely [5]doubtful whether he ever was really subject to Tipperah, though it is certain that all these Lushai clans had dealings with the Tipperah Rajahs and feared them greatly. Among the tales in Chapter V. will be found one which exemplifies this.

Lalsuktla (Lal chokla), captured by Captain Blackwood in 1841, was a great-grandson of Sibuta’s. Purbura is said to have been a very powerful Pallian chief and at one time to have received tribute from almost all his contemporary Thangur chiefs. He had a large village, said to contain 3,000 houses, on the Dungtlang, whence he moved as far westwards as Pukzing, where his village was destroyed by a combined force of Zādeng, Sailo, and Chuckmahs. This attack took place somewhere about 1830. Purbura rebuilt his village, but died soon after, and his descendants were attacked frequently by the chiefs of the Rolura branch of the Sailo family, and now only two small hamlets, close to Aijal, remain to remind us of this once powerful clan.

The Sailo.—These chiefs are descended from Sailova, a great-grandson of Thang-ura’s. They came into prominence last, but have crushed all their rivals, and have developed such a talent for governing that they hold undisputed sway over representatives of all sorts of clans, over nearly the whole of the area now known as the Lushai Hills.

This great family has often come in contact with the British Government, but from the fact that our dealings with them have generally been through illiterate interpreters, they appear in our records under various names. The Howlongs, who caused much anxiety on the Chittagong frontier from 1860 to 1890, Lalul’s descendants, whose doings fill the records of Silchar for nearly a century, Vonolel, Savunga, and Sangvunga, against whom the two columns of the Lushai Expedition of 1871–72 were directed—all these were Sailos.

As above remarked, it seems most probable that the country into which the various Thangur chiefs moved, under pressure from the Chins, was almost entirely occupied by small communities having no power of cohesion. The greater part of these were absorbed, and now form the majority of the subjects of the Thangur chiefs; but some fled north and west into Manipur, Silchar, Sylhet and Tipperah, where they are [6]known as Kukis and where their appearance caused much trouble, as, from the very nature of the cause of their migration, much ill-feeling existed between them and the triumphant Lushais. In Stewart’s notes on Northern Cachar, it is stated that the Old Kukis made their appearance in Cachar about the end of the eighteenth century. These Old Kukis include the Biate (Beteh) and Hrangchul (Rhangkol) and other cognate clans who are now known to us as Khawtlang. They claim the hills round Champhai as their place of origin, and the sites are still known by their names. We have seen that the Lusheis claim to have sprung from a village south-east of Champhai, and that the Zādeng passed through Champhai on their westward move, which ended so disastrously for them. The advance of such tribes would be slow, and would be largely regulated by the rate at which they exhausted the cultivable land near their village sites; therefore the appearance of the Biate and Hrangchul in Cachar at the beginning of the nineteenth or end of the eighteenth century fits in well with the date I had assigned for Thang-ura, the first Lushei chief, before I had read Lieutenant Stewart’s book. These Khawtlang clans to this day have little power of cohesion, and they naturally gave way at once before the well-organised Lushais, and fled north and north-west into Cachar and Manipur, passing through the territory of the Thado clans and suffering considerably at their hands. When the Thangur had firmly established themselves, and the capable Sailo chiefs had come to the front, they felt equal to fighting the Thado clans, which were as highly organised as themselves. The Sailo chiefs triumphed, and hence the eruption of the New Kukis, alias Thados, and cognate clans, into Silchar about 1848.

In Colonel Lewin’s “The Hill Tracts of Chittagong and the Dwellers Therein,” page 109, is given an account of the “Cucis or inhabitants of the Tipperah mountains,” written by J. Rennel, Chief Engineer of Bengal in 1800. With very slight alterations, this account is applicable to the Lushais of to-day, and I have no doubt that the Cucis therein described were the Rivung, the advance-guard of the great Lushai invasion. [7]

On the Chittagong side, we find, as early as 1777, records of frontier disturbances ascribed to “Kookies, men who live far in the interior parts of the hills, who have not the use of firearms, and whose bodies go unclothed” (Lewin’s “The Hill Tracts of Chittagong and the Dwellers Therein,” page 21). These Kukis were allies of the Chuckmahs, and we have seen that about fifty years later the Chuckmahs joined with the Zādeng and the Sailos in an attack on Purbura.

The various branches of the Sailo family were frequently at war, the cause almost invariably being a dispute as to land. About 1856 a war, known as “The War of the North and the South,” broke out and lasted about three years. The Northern combatants were the descendants of Lallula, their opponents being Cherra’s family. The bone of contention was the Piler hill, and this quarrel was on the point of breaking out again in 1892, when Mr. McCabe and I, appearing on the scene from Aijal and Lungleh respectively, “frightened both the heroes so they quite forgot their quarrel.” The war ended in a victory for the North, who surprised Konglung, a village on the top of a very precipitous rock, and captured the young chief and his mother, who later were ransomed for many necklaces.

In 1874 the Southern Lushais fell out with the Thlantlang (Klangklang) chiefs. Vandula, head of the Lushais, had raided Vaki, a village on the Arracan border, and brought away as part of the loot a brass bowl and a big earthenware vase, which the Thlantlang chief claimed as being part of the promised price of his daughter, who had recently been married to the son of the Vaki chief. As Vandula refused to give up the articles, the Thlantlangs attacked a Lushai piquet on the Koladyne, killing some men. To revenge this insult, the Lushais attacked Bunkhua, with disastrous results, as is described in Chapter III, Para. 5, and had to make an ignominious peace.

Later the Northern chiefs quarrelled among themselves, and the war of the East and West broke out and lasted several years. The cause is said to have been a girl called Tuali, for whose affections Liankhama and Khalkhama were rivals. It is unnecessary to go into the history of our dealings with the Lushais, which have ended in the whole of the Hills being [8]annexed, and a stop put to all such wars, but when we occupied Lungleh in 1889 we found the Fānai clan coming into prominence, and there is little doubt that, but for our intervention, that clan would shortly have attempted to eject the Southern Lushai chiefs.

4. Affinities. The Lushais are more or less closely allied to all the tribes now living in their vicinity, but some who show this most strongly, such as the Chiru, Kom, Aimol, are now settled in the Manipur State, while the intervening country is occupied by clans belonging to the Thado, Paihte, and Khawtlang families, which, though no doubt of the same stock, are more distantly connected. It seems certain that the former clans lived near the Lusheis when the Thangur commenced their victorious career, and it may well be that it was fear of absorption by their more powerful neighbour that drove these clans northwards, while the Lusheis took a westerly direction.

The connection between the Lusheis and their eastern neighbours is apparent both in their language and in their customs, but the eastern tribes, known to us generally as Chins, are of finer physique and, owing to their having permanent villages, the differences between clans have become more marked than among the semi-nomadic Lushais and Kukis. The feuds between different clans, which are always found where permanent villages exist, tend to widen the breach between communities and to accentuate every accidental variation of custom, so that the common origin is soon lost sight of. Nevertheless there is no doubt that the Kukis, Chins, and Lushais are all of the same race.

Less apparent but still quite traceable is the relationship between the Lushais and the Kabuis and Manipuris, though the latter nowadays try in every way to disown all connection with their poor relations.

5. Dress. The men’s dress could not well be simpler, consisting as it does of a single cloth about 7 feet long and 5 wide. It is worn as follows:—One corner is grasped in the left hand, and the cloth is passed over the left shoulder, behind the back, under the right arm across the chest and the end thrown over the left shoulder. Although it would appear probable that clothing so loosely worn would be continually falling off, yet, as a matter of [9]fact, accidents of that sort seldom occur. In cold weather, one or more cloths are worn, one over the other, and also a white coat, reaching well down the thigh but only fastened at the throat. These coats are ornamented on the sleeves with bands of red and white of various patterns. When at work, in hot weather, the Lushai wraps his cloth round his waist, letting the ends hang down in front, and should he find the sun warm and if he is wearing two cloths, he will wear one as a puggri. Puggris are sometimes worn when out in the sun for long, and some affect rather a quaint style, twisting the cloth round the head so as to make an end stand up straight over each ear.

All these garments are of cotton, grown locally and manufactured by the women of the household. The cloths in general use are white, but every man likes to have two or three blue cloths ornamented with stripes of various colours.

The Lushais have a very strong objection to getting their heads wet, and therefore in the rain wear hats made of strips of bamboo or cane plaited and lined with smoked leaves. The original hats were almost flat and circular, but nowadays these have been discarded in favour of very clever imitations of helmets and solar topis. In the southern portion of the district the people use, as a protection from the wet, a large shallow basket-work tray, shaped like an oyster shell, and made waterproof by being lined with smoked leaves; the narrow end rests on the wearer’s head, while the broad end reaches down well below the waist, so that, while bending down weeding in the jhum, the head and body are kept dry. This form of waterproof is not much used in the northern portion of the Lushai Hills, but is common among the Chiru and other allied clans in Manipur. As the Lushai has no pockets, he carries, wherever he goes, a haversack made of some pretty coloured cotton cloth slung over his shoulder by a strap of the same material. In this he carries his flint and steel and his tobacco, in neatly made boxes carved out of solid pieces of wood and fitted with lids of the same material, or of leather moulded into shape by being stretched over a block. His pipe is generally in his mouth; it consists of a bowl made out of a particularly hard kind of bamboo which is only found in the Chin hills—whence the Lushais claim to have sprung—with a long stem made of a [11]reed-like variety of the same plant. When not in his mouth, this also reposes in his haversack along with his “tuibur,” a small gourd to hold the water which has been impregnated with nicotine in the pipe of his wife or sweetheart. A little of this evil-smelling concoction he takes into his mouth from time to time and, having kept it there a few minutes, he spits it out and declares that it has a stimulating effect. In his haversack you will also find his knife, the wooden sheath tied to one of the shoulder straps so that the handle is always convenient to his hand. The blade is about four or five inches long and nearly an inch wide at the handle, but comes to a sharp point; the edge is straight and ground like a chisel.

The dress of the chiefs is the same as that of the common people, except on occasions of ceremony, when they wear dark blue cloths, with red lines of a particular pattern, and plumes, made of the tail feathers of the king-crow, in their hair knots. These plumes are very much prized and are kept most carefully in bamboo tubes with leather caps. The cloth referred to above can also be worn by anyone who has given certain feasts, as described later on.

Dress in War-time.—When the Lushais were fighting us in 1892 I was much struck by the whiteness of their garments. The men who ran away from the stockades as we rushed them were always dressed in nice clean coats and cloths, and crowds of similarly attired warriors used to assemble every morning just out of range and challenge us to come and fight. I was told that it was considered the correct thing to come properly dressed when there was fighting on hand, but a raiding party I once came across was dressed far more suitably. A single cloth wrapped tightly round the waist, a haversack protected by a bear or tiger skin guard over one shoulder, and a fighting dao or dah over the other, and a gun in his hand completed each warrior’s equipment. It will be seen from the above description that the Lushais are not fond of dress, and this is another point in which all Kuki clans differ from those of Naga stock.

Special Attire.—A man who has earned the title of “Thangchhuah” (v. Chap. IV, 9) is allowed to wear a cloth of a certain pattern and those who have killed men in war have special head-dresses, known as “chhawndawl” and “arke-ziak.” [12]

The Women’s Dress.—The women are no more addicted to fine clothes than their men-folk. All women wear the same costume; a dark-blue cotton cloth, just long enough to go round the wearer’s waist with a slight over-lap, and held up by a girdle of brass wire or string, serves as a petticoat which only reaches to the knee, the only other garments being a short white jacket and a cloth which is worn in the same manner as the men. On gala days the only addition to the costume is a picturesque head-dress worn by girls while dancing. This consists of a chaplet made of brass and coloured cane, into which are inserted porcupine quills, and to the upper ends of these are fixed the green wing-feathers of the common parrot, tipped with tufts of red wool. At the back is affixed a horizontal bar from which hang strings of glistening wing covers of green beetles. The women smoke as much as the men and have a special form of pipe, a miniature hookah about 9 inches high with a clay bowl, the water container being of bamboo much ornamented with patterns roughly scratched. The water when thoroughly impregnated is transferred to the “tuibur” gourd of some male relative or admirer. Children of both sexes begin smoking very young. I have seen a woman take her pipe from her mouth and put it into that of the baby on her back.

6. Tattooing. This is not much practised. The only patterns employed are circles on the forearm and breast, which are said to be mementoes of love affairs in happy bachelor days, and rude representations of a metna’s head, which is said to have no particular meaning.

7. Ornaments worn by men. The Lushai wears a variety of articles in his hair knot. The commonest is a brass two-pronged pin with a head shaped like a G. The prongs are drawn out to sharp points and vary in length from three to eight or nine inches. These very long pins are a recent innovation, and their use seems to be restricted to the young dandies of the hamlets round Aijal. Skewers of ivory, bone, and metal about six or eight inches long are also worn. Of the two former there are two patterns, one four-sided, about a quarter of an inch thick at two thirds of its length, tapering to a point at each end, the other being flat, pointed at one end and about half an inch broad at the other. Both are ornamented [13]with engraved circles and lines. The metal skewers are quite plain and more for use in scratching the head than for ornament; a piece of the rib of a broken umbrella is now often used. The hair comb is also an ornamental article; it consists of a piece of ivory or wood about three inches long, half an inch thick and an inch or so wide, into which are inserted, very close together, teeth of strips of bamboo about two inches long. If the back is of wood it is generally crescent-shaped and lacquered red and inlaid.

With reference to the comb I may quote from Colonel McCulloch’s descriptions of the Thados in his “Account of the Valley of Manipur”:—“Their attention to genealogy, the distinction of clans, and the respect paid to seniors, I have already noticed. Out of this may have sprung the only exclusiveness shown by the Khonjai (Thado), namely, in the point of who would be entitled to use his comb and whose comb he might use. This, though amongst them a very important matter, I cannot find to have any religious importance attached to it, but there is an indication of the superior rank in respect of descent or by connection, or of estimation in which an individual is held or holds himself to be found to whom he would refuse his comb, or amongst whom his comb is common.” My Lushai informant says that the use of the comb is restricted, as headaches are communicated by the comb. He also adds, “A higher clan man is contaminated by a lower clan man using his comb. Thus a Renthlei may not use a Sailo’s hair comb, and a Chawngthu may not use that of a Pallian.”

Earrings.—Most men have their ears pierced, and wear either small wooden studs, with flat heads about half an inch in diameter, and coloured red, or cornelians suspended by a piece of string. The stones are barrel-shaped and unpolished, the surface being pitted with minute holes and circular marks. These are valued very highly, and are passed on from father to son, or given as a daughter’s dowry. Some of them have names connecting them with some story of bygone days. These naturally fetch higher prices. I know of stones valued at Rs. 400/-.

Necklaces.—Both sexes are fond of necklaces: those of amber [14]are most valued, and any that have histories attached to them fetch prices which to us seem absurd. I remember a chief, who was offered Rs. 60/- for his necklace, replying that if the Sahib wanted the necklace he would give it him, but that he would not sell it for Rs. 1000/- as it had been the property of his ancestors. The old necklaces are made of very dark amber, beautifully clear, and the beads are sometimes two to three inches long and over an inch in diameter. There is some doubt as to where these beads came from, but it is probable that they came through the Chin hills from Burmah. Besides amber, agate, cornelian, and various sorts of bead necklaces are worn, or, failing all these, white shirt buttons are acceptable.

A tiger’s tooth is often hung round the neck as an ornament and is also thought to have magical properties. The young dandies are fond of hanging round their necks tufts of white goat’s hair bound together with red thread; these are now worn as ornaments, but undoubtedly the custom arose from the idea that cures are effected by hanging round the affected part a piece of the skin or feathers of the animal or bird sacrificed to the demon, who is thought to be responsible for the illness.

Bracelets are not much worn and are generally plain brass rings.

Ornaments Worn by Women.—With the exception of their earrings, the Lushai women affect the same ornaments as the men. The earrings, however, are quite distinct, and, in order to be able to wear them, much preparation is necessary. When quite a child the girl has her ears pierced, and small wooden plugs are inserted. These are replaced by larger ones, which in turn give place to still larger ones of clay, the size of which is gradually increased till the real earring, which is an ivory disc some inch or inch and a half in diameter, with a hole in its centre, can be inserted. Widows remove their earrings, and slit the lobes of their ears when they abandon all thought of re-marrying.

8. Weapons. The Lushais have been in possession of firearms for the last sixty or seventy years. These weapons are flint-locks bearing the names of many European makers; many are Tower muskets, [15]and guns bearing the marks of the French Customs Department are not at all rare. These guns came into the country in the first instance chiefly through Burmah, though no doubt some came through Chittagong, and much money must have been made, for the demand was large. When the weapons first began to appear, the Lushais and other western tribes used to obtain them from the tribes on the Burmah border, giving slaves in exchange, a strong male slave being equivalent to two guns. The other weapons in use are spears and dahs. The former are inferior weapons with iron laurel-leaf shaped blades about a foot or fifteen inches long, very insecurely attached to the shaft, which is of hard wood, often a piece of sago palm; at the other end of the shaft is a long iron spike which is stuck into the ground when the user halts. A special spear is used for sacrificial purposes, the blade of which is much longer and diamond-shaped. The spike at the other end is also much elongated, so that sometimes the wooden shaft is only six or seven inches long. The dah is a more serviceable weapon, being copied, as its name “kawlnam” denotes, from the Burmese weapon, but the blade is shorter, the handle is of wood lacquered black and red, and ornamented with brass bands and a brass knob at the end. In former days oblong shields of bison-hide eighteen inches wide and about two feet long, adorned at the two upper corners with tassels of goat’s hair dyed red, were carried. The upper half of the shield was sometimes covered with discs of brass, while from a string crossing the centre of the shield hung a row of brass cones about two inches long, from each of which depended a tassel of red goat’s hair, reaching to the base of the shield. Bows and arrows have entirely gone out of use, but were formerly used, especially in the chase, when the arrows were poisoned. The bows were small and made of bamboo, the string being of bark. The arrows were furnished with barbed iron points, and were carried in a bamboo quiver with a leather cap to it. Among weapons we must class the bamboo spikes with which a retreating foe or villagers expecting an attack rendered the ground almost impassable to a bare-footed enemy. These spikes were of two kinds, one used round the village or block house, and the other, carried in a neat little cane-work quiver, and stuck in the path when returning from a raid to delay [16]pursuit. The former were simple bamboo spikes of various lengths, while the latter were carefully smoothed bamboo spikes about six inches long, and no thicker than a knitting needle; each sort was nicked so that it might break off after entering the flesh. To a bare-footed foe these spikes form a very serious obstacle, and even our troops have suffered from them, the spikes being sometimes long enough to reach to a man’s knee. [17]

1. Occupation. The entire population may be classed as agriculturists, as only a few people, as will be afterwards described, live on contributions of rice given them in exchange for services rendered to the community. There are no shop-keepers, and, except the blacksmith, no craftsmen, each household being capable of existing on its own labours. The men build the house and cut the jhum, they help in the weeding and harvesting, and procure fresh meat by their skill in setting snares and hunting. Periodically they visit the nearest bazar, often a journey of several days, to purchase salt and the few requisites that their own industry cannot produce, consisting chiefly of brass cooking pots, iron to be made into daos or finished daos. Nowadays, it is true, the wants of the people are slowly increasing, and looking-glasses, umbrellas, needles, and Manchester goods are finding their way into the most remote villages. The women folk fetch the wood and water, cook the food and do the greatest part of the weeding and harvesting; they also make all the clothing for the whole household from cotton grown in the jhums, which they themselves gather, clean, spin, and weave into strong cloth.

A Lushai woman has to rise early, fill her basket with empty bamboo tubes, and trudge off before daylight down to the spring, which is generally some way down the hill, and the supply of water is frequently so scanty that it takes her some time to fill her bamboos. Having conveyed her basketful to the house, she has to set to work cleaning the rice for the day. The necessary amount of unhusked rice has been dried the [18]previous day on the shelf over the hearth, and this she now proceeds to pound in a mortar in the front verandah, and winnow on an oval bamboo tray till it is clean enough for use. The breakfast of rice has then to be cooked, and by the time it is ready her husband is awake. After the meal the real work of the day begins. In the cold weather the women settle themselves to some of the operations connected with clothmaking, while the men prepare to pass a day of complete enjoyment, lying in the sun and smoking, the younger ones combining this with courting any of the pretty clothmakers; while the children play around entirely uncontrolled, save when a shrill-voiced mother calls one of them to assist her in some domestic operation. About noon there is a meal of rice and herbs, after which work is resumed and continued till the evening, when the housewife has to make another journey to the spring, and on her return the pigs must be fed with a mixture composed of rice husks and a species of edible arum bulb, mashed and boiled together, the fowls enticed into their baskets, and finally the family collected for the evening meal, which varies little from the two previous ones, but some garnish, a little meat, dried fish, or some savoury vegetable is generally added. As soon as it is dark, all the female members of the family gather round the hearth, and carry on such work as can be carried on by what light they can get from the fire; though in villages near fir forests some pine splinters are generally kept handy for use when an extra bright light is required for a few minutes. The men either gather in the “zawlbuk” or in some house where there is drink going, but the young bucks sneak off to court their lady loves, which the girls’ parents give them every facility for doing. In the other seasons of the year, that is from March to December, the people are engaged in their jhums from the morning to the evening meal, as is described later on.

Lushai parents are very fond of their children, and fathers are often seen carrying their infants about. In times of scarcity, what rice can be got is reserved for the young children, the rest of the people living on yams, jungle vegetables, and the pith of the sago palm. The children assist their parents as much as they can, tiny girls accompanying their mothers to the [19]spring, and bringing up one or two bamboos of water, while the lads help their fathers in cutting the jhum. No one, however, takes any care of children, and they are allowed to run about the village as they like, in all weathers, which no doubt accounts largely for the heavy mortality among them, as their clothing is of the scantiest.

Teknonymy is very common. The parents of a child called Thanga will generally be known as Thanga-Pa and Thanga-Nu, and I have come across old widows whose real names were unknown. There is a strong and general dislike among all Lushais to saying their own names. When we first occupied the hills, a man would not tell you his name; if asked he would refer to someone else and say, “You tell him.” The following explanation, given me by a Lushai, seems to me scarcely satisfactory:—“Lushais are shy of saying the name of their father and mother and their own names. Because it is their own name they are shy of saying it. Some people are shy because their names are bad. Their parents’ names—because they are their parents they never call them by their names, therefore they are shy of saying them. Their own names also they never say; just for that reason they are shy of saying them. The names of their brothers and friends they are always saying, therefore they are not shy of saying them.” Long ago another explanation was given me. When a man kills another, he calls out his own name: “I, Lalmanga, have killed you!” so that the spirit of the dying man may know whose slave he will be in Mithi-Khua, the dead man’s village; it was suggested that it was unlucky to say one’s name on less important occasions.

2. Weights and Measures. In every village there is a small flat basket, the size of which is fixed by the chief, which is used for all retail dealings in rice and such goods, but large quantities are measured by the number of loads, a load being about 50 lbs. After the harvest the unhusked rice is piled in a conical heap. A Lushai will tell you that his crop is “chhip-zawn,” that is, the heap is level with the top of his head; “silai-zawn,” that is, level with the end of his gun held up perpendicularly over his head. This is about a record crop; lesser quantities are denoted by the height of his hand or hoe or axe held up. Time he measures [20]by the time a pot of rice takes to cook—i.e., about an hour—or by the time he can hold a sip of nicotine in his mouth; he has terms for each period of the day, denoting the usual occupation; he also divides the year according to the agricultural occupation proper to it. Terms expressing measures of length are very numerous. Short lengths are expressed by reference to the human body, as we speak of a span; but the Lushai has sixteen or seventeen of these, extending from “chang-khat”—i.e., from the tip to the first joint of the first finger—to “hlam,” which is the distance a man can stretch with both arms extended. Longer distances he expresses by terms such as the distance of the nearest jhum, the distance of the furthest jhum, the distance a mithan will wander during the day, the distance a man can travel before his mid-day meal, &c.—terms which, though well understood by the people, are a little perplexing to strangers. Measures of weight are scanty; a curious one is “chuai”—i.e., as much as can be supported if suspended from the tip of the first finger palm downwards. Many of the stars and constellations have received names; most of them have some story attached to them. The months are lunar months, and some have names, but these are but little known or used.

3. Villages. The Lushai likes to perch his village on the top of a ridge or spur, partly because, hillsides being steep, it is difficult to find sites elsewhere, partly for the sake of the climate, but chiefly, I think, in order to get a good defensive position. His migratory habits disinclining him to make the elaborate defences over which the Chins, Nagas, and other dwellers in permanent villages took so much pains, he therefore sought for a site which was difficult of approach. When we first occupied the country, every village was surrounded by one or more lines of stockade made of timber, with several rows of bamboo spikes outside it. At each gateway was a block house, and others were built at suitable places on the roads along which enemies were expected to come, and were occupied whenever an attack was apprehended. Tradition speaks of villages of 3,000 houses, and, though this is probably an exaggeration, still from an examination of the sites it is evident that they must have been very large, and even when we occupied the country [21]villages of 400 and 500 houses were not uncommon, and there were two or three of 800 houses.

Now that all fear of being raided has gone for ever, people no longer feel the need of living together in large communities, and the size of villages is steadily decreasing. The peculiar vagabond strain in the blood of the Kuki-Lushai race, if not controlled, leads to villages splitting into hamlets and hamlets sub-dividing, till in the Manipur Hills we find single houses in the midst of dense jungle, several miles from the next habitation. This could never happen among tribes belonging to the Naga group, with whom intense love for the ancestral village site is a leading characteristic. A short distance outside the village by the roadside there generally are several platforms of logs with posts round them adorned with skulls of animals, gourds, rags, and old pots. These are memorials of deceased heroes, and will be more fully dealt with later on.

The gate itself was composed either of two large slabs of timber, or of a number of stout saplings suspended from a cross bar by holes cut through their upper ends; during the day these were drawn aside, but at night they hung perpendicularly in the gateways and were firmly secured between two cross bars. Passing through the gate, one finds oneself in a sort of irregular street leading up to the highest point of the village, where there is generally an open space, from which other streets branch off. On one side of this space will be the chiefs house, with the “zawlbuk,” or bachelors’ hall, opposite it. The villages of powerful chiefs are beautifully laid out in regular streets which follow the natural features of the ground. When Colonel Lister in 1850 captured the village of Shentlang he was so impressed with the regularity with which the villages within sight were laid out that he was easily led to believe these were cantonments inhabited solely by warriors. If the village is a large one and contains a mixed population, it is divided into several quarters, or “veng,” which are generally inhabited by people of the same clan, and each will have its zawlbuk, a large building constructed by the united labour of the men of the veng or the village. As the mithan or gyal (tame bison) belonging to the village pass the night under the zawlbuk, it is generally built on rather a steep hillside, so that the natural fall of the ground [22]may allow ample room for the animals under the raised floor and ensure good drainage. It is built, as are all other buildings in the village, of timber and bamboos, tied together with cane and thatched with either cane leaves or grass—if the former, then the ridge of the roof is straight and gable-ended; if the latter, it is far higher in the centre, whence it curves down somewhat abruptly to each gable. Access to the building is obtained by a platform of rough logs at the uphill end, where the front wall commences some 3½ feet above the platform. Having stooped under this wall you are confronted by a low matting partition, surmounted by a huge log, the whole some 3 feet high, over which you scramble and find yourself in a large bare room varying from 15 to 50 feet long and 15 to 30 feet wide, according to the size of the village, with a square earthen hearth in the centre on which a few logs are always smouldering, and at the far end is a raised sleeping platform extending the whole width of the building. The young boys of the village have to keep up the supply of firewood for the zawlbuk, this duty continuing till they reach the age of puberty, when they cease sleeping in their parents’ houses and join the young men in the zawlbuk. Until that time they are under the orders of the eldest or most influential boy, who is their “hotu,” or superintendent. The zawlbuk is the particular property of the unmarried men of the village, who gather there in the evening to sing songs, tell stories, and make jokes till it is time to visit their sweethearts, after which they return there for the rest of the night. Travellers not having any friends in the village use the zawlbuk as a rest-house, but eating and drinking are seldom, if ever, carried on there. The zawlbuk is an institution common to many tribes, but among the clans I am dealing with it is confined to the Lushei and the clans most nearly allied to them. Its appearance among the Chiru and Vaiphei emphasises the close connection between these clans and the Lusheis.

The houses all abut on the street, but small gardens are often found at the back, in which sugar cane, beans, cucumbers, &c., are grown. The houses of the chief’s advisers and wealthy men are generally grouped near his, but should the chief have more than one wife, or should he have some less fortunate [23]relations dependent on him, their houses will be found scattered through the village, each forming a centre of a quarter or a veng, from the inhabitants of which the chief allows them to collect the dues, which are his by right.

The steepness of the hillside is no obstacle to house building, and frequently the roof of one house will be lower than the floor of the one immediately above it. The Lushais have been nomadic ever since their ancestors started on their western trek some 200 years ago. The method of cultivation which they follow is very wasteful, and a large village soon uses up all the land within reach, and then a move becomes imperative. Their custom of burying their dead within the village tends to make a site unhealthy, especially as the water supply is usually so situated as to receive the drainage of the village, and when the rate of mortality rises unduly high, a move is at once made. In old times these moves were often of considerable length—sometimes as much as two or three days’ journey—and sometimes a halt for a whole season would be made at some temporary site, the people living in huts alongside their cultivation. The selection of a new site is a matter of much thought, and before a final decision is arrived at, a deputation of elders is sent to sleep at the proposed site, taking with them a cock. If the bird crows lustily an hour before daybreak, as all good cocks should, the site is approved of. Sites of villages which have been burnt by enemies are eschewed as unlucky, and a chief when re-occupying a site of some other chief’s village generally tries to establish himself slightly to one side or other, in hopes that the new site will bear his name for many years.

As soon as the move has been decided on, arrangements are made for cutting the jhums near the new site, and during the rains all the workers live either in the jhum houses, or in temporary shelters built near the new site, to which, after the harvest, they laboriously carry all their belongings on their own backs, as they own no beasts of burden. These constant moves have had a great share in moulding the Lushai character, for when you have to carry all your worldly goods from your old to your new house every four or five years, it is not strange if you are disinclined to amass more than is absolutely necessary, and gradually become content with very little, and prefer ease and [24]idleness to toiling in the hopes of being able to add to your worldly possessions. This I believe to be the explanation of the difference between the Lushai and the Chins, the latter being eager to earn money by work or trade, while the former far prefer to lie smoking in the sun.

4. Houses. The house of a commoner consists of three parts, the front verandah, approached by a rough platform of logs, the main room, and a small closet partitioned off at the far end, beyond which there will sometimes be a small bamboo platform. The verandah is termed “sum-hmun,” from the “sum,” or mortar in which the paddy is cleaned, which has its place here. On one side the careful housewife stacks her firewood, and the front wall of the house is the place on which the householder, if he is a sportsman, displays the skulls of the animals and birds he has slain; among them hang baskets in which the fowls lay, and even sit on their eggs, hatching out as numerous and as healthy broods as do the most pampered inhabitants of model poultry farms. The fowls spend the night in long tubular bamboo baskets, hung under the eaves, access to which is gained by climbing up an inclined stick from the front verandah. Hens with broods are shut up each night in special baskets with sliding doors.

From the verandah a small door, about 2½ feet by 4, with a very high sill, opens into the house. This door is placed at the side furthest from the hill, and consists of a panel of split bamboo work attached to a long bamboo which slides to and fro, resting in the groove between two other bamboos lashed on to the top of the sill, in which there is generally a small opening, with a swinging door, for use of the dogs and fowls when the big door is closed. Immediately inside the door, in one corner, are collected the hollow bamboo tubes which take the place of water pots; opposite will often be a large circular bamboo bin containing the household’s supply of paddy. Next to this is a sleeping platform, known as “kum-ai,” beyond which is the hearth of earth, in the centre of which three stones or pieces of iron are fixed, on which the cooking pot rests. The earth is kept in its place by three pieces of wood, that in front being a wide plank with the top carefully smoothed, which forms a favourite seat during cold weather. The earth is put in [25]wet and well kneaded, and eventually becomes as hard as brick. Along the wall an earthen shelf serves the double purpose of keeping the fire from the wall and affording a resting place for the pots. Over the hearth are hung two bamboo shelves, one above the other, on which to-morrow’s supply of paddy is dried, and various odds and ends are stored. These shelves also serve to keep the sparks from reaching the roof. Beyond the fireplace is another sleeping place, called the “kum-pui”—i.e., big bed—which is reserved for the parents, while the young children and unmarried girls use the kum-ai; the bigger boys and young men, as has already been stated, sleeping in the zawlbuk. Beyond the kum-pui comes the partition dividing off the small recess used as a lumber room, and often as a closet. The beds and hearth are always on the side of the house nearest to the hillside, and do not usually extend quite to the centre, the rest of the floor being vacant, and, in order to avoid obstructing this, the posts which support the ridge are placed slanting, passing through the floor in line with the edge of the hearth. Along the wall opposite to the hearth are lashed two or more bamboos, forming convenient shelves, while a platform of the same useful plant is constructed from one cross beam to another. Forked sticks tied to the wall or to the uprights form hooks, and the large bamboos, wherever used, have openings cut in them which convert each joint into a tiny cupboard. At the far end of the house, opposite the front door, is a similar door opening on to a small platform, whence a notched log serves as a means of descending to the garden or the street. Many houses have bamboo platforms adjoining the front verandah, on which the women folk sit and do their weaving, while the young men lie at their ease and flirt with any girls who are good looking.

The houses of the chiefs are very similar to those of their subjects, only a good deal larger. Entering from the front verandah, the visitor finds himself in a passage running along one side of the house, off which open several small rooms inhabited by the married retainers; the other end of the passage opens into a large room with several sleeping platforms and sometimes two or more hearths, but otherwise similar to that above described. Beyond this is the usual closet, while [26]beyond that is a wide verandah partially closed in, which is especially reserved for the chief’s family. These verandahs, called “bāzāh,” are forbidden to all except chiefs or wealthy [27]persons who have given certain feasts. A similar prohibition exists regarding windows, which are one of the prerogatives of the “Thangchhuah,” as will be described in Chapter IV, para 1. Openings in the side of the house are viewed with suspicion, as likely to bring misfortune, and a most progressive chief told me he had refrained from making any but the authorised ones, in deference to the strong public feeling that the whole village would suffer for such an innovation.

The materials of which all the buildings are constructed are the same—viz., timber for uprights and cross beams, bamboos for the framework of the floor, walls, and roof, split bamboos for the floor, walls, and if cane leaves are used to cover the thatch; the whole being tied together with cane. The uprights consist of sections of hard wood trees, which are split longitudinally and left to season for as long as possible. The cross beams which rest on the wall plates appear to us unduly heavy, while the wall plates seem very weak. The Lushais claim that the weight of the cross beams gives the house stability in high winds. The broad bands of split bamboo laid on top of the cane leaf thatch from eave to eave, secured at intervals by longitudinal bamboos tied down with cane, give the roof a semi-circular appearance from the outside. When cane leaves cannot be obtained, thatching grass is used, but its extreme inflammability makes it unpopular. When cane leaves are used, holes for the passage of cane ties cannot be avoided, and beneath each of these a bamboo split in half is secured as a drain pipe to convey the drippings beyond the walls.

5. Furniture. Owing to their nomadic habits the Lushais have not much furniture. Even in the houses of powerful chiefs but little will be found but a few rough and low wooden stools, some wooden platters, some earthenware beer pots, strengthened by plaited cane coverings, some brass pots, and many baskets in which valuable or perishable articles are preserved. Property which can be safely buried is often concealed in this way, a custom which is fast dying out now that raids are things of the past.

6. Implements. Agricultural.—The Lushai’s cultivation being confined to cutting down the jungle, burning it, and dibbling in the seed among the ashes, he does not require many or elaborate implements [28]and is content with a dao, an axe, and a hoe. The dao is a knife with a triangular blade, about 3 inches wide at the end and 1 inch or so at the handle. It is ground with a chisel edge, the broad end being also sharpened. This is used for clearing the jungle, and the broad end is used for grubbing the holes in which the seeds are placed. The axe heads are of iron only about 1½ inches wide at the edge, and taper almost to a point; the handles are simply pieces of bamboo, the heads being thrust through the tough root portion. The hoes very closely resemble the axes, the heads being a little lighter and broader.

Musical Instruments.—The commonest are gongs and drums, but a kind of mouth-organ known as “rotchem” and a fiddle made out of a piece of bamboo are sometimes used. The gongs are mostly imported from Burma, as much as Rs. 150/- being paid for large ones, but the most prized are sets of three small gongs, each with a separate note, on which three skilled performers can produce something resembling a tune. The drums are sections of trees hollowed out, the ends being covered with metna hide caps laced together. The rotchem, which is found in all Lushai-Kuki clans, consists of a gourd into which nine hollow reeds are inserted, one to serve as a mouthpiece; the others, which are of various lengths, have small holes cut in them. The performer blows into the mouthpiece, and, by closing and opening the holes with his fingers, he can produce various notes, but the music is dull and monotonous. The fiddle is a very rough affair, produced in a few minutes by loosening a strip of the outer skin of a bamboo, without detaching it at its ends, and raising it up and inserting a piece of stick to act as a bridge; the bow is made out of another piece of bamboo. The sound of a bugle is very cleverly imitated by blowing through several lengths of bamboo inserted one into the other.

Household Utensils.—Besides the articles enumerated under furniture, earthenware cooking pots and bamboo spoons complete the utensils used inside the house.

7. Manufactures. Basket Work.—This is chiefly carried on by men. The patterns are very numerous, each being adapted to some particular use. The material is generally bamboo. The “thul” [29]is a basket with four short legs, about twelve inches square at the bottom, widening till the mouth is a circle with a diameter of about thirty inches; this basket is supplied with a conical lid and is chiefly used to keep valuables in. The outer layer is of finely split bamboo closely woven, and this is lined with broad leaves well dried, which are held in their place by an inner layer of bamboo more loosely woven. These baskets are quite waterproof.

For carrying goods there are the “deron,” a truncated cone 30 to 36 inches long with a diameter at its mouth of about 24 inches, holding about 50 lbs. of paddy; the “em,” similar to the deron, but about half the size. The “bomrang,” an open-work basket with an oval mouth, 15 inches by 12, is used for carrying goods on long journeys. The “paikawng” similar in shape to the em, but with open-work sides, is for conveyance of wood, water tubes, &c. There are also several sorts of flat baskets for holding grain, each with its particular name. The containing power of these is approximately constant, and they are used as measures of quantity.

Pottery.—The women make clay pots, moulding them by hand. There are only two kinds in use—a small circular pot with a mouth some 6 to 8 inches in diameter, used for cooking, and a large jar, about 24 inches high and 15 inches in diameter, tapering to about 9 inches at the mouth, which is used for brewing beer in.

Brass Work.—Occasionally one comes across rough specimens of moulding in this metal, which show considerable if untrained talent, but they are very rare, and I attribute them to captives taken from the plains of India or Burma, or to persons who have learnt from them. The method followed is to make a model in wax and cover it with successive washes of clay till a sufficient thickness is obtained, the whole then being baked till the clay is hard, and the wax has all run out through a hole left for this purpose. Into this mould the molten brass is then poured. The commonest use of this work is for the semi-circular tube required to connect the two arms of the syphons used in drawing off the rice beer. These tubes are sometimes surmounted by quite elaborate designs, a hunter approaching his quarry, a tree with many hornbills perched among the [30]boughs, and on one which I bought are represented Vutaia and his “kawnbawl,” or minister, with leg irons on. The latter carries on his shoulder an elephant’s tusk, which formed part of the ransom of his master, who, in the ups and downs of the troublous times in which he lived, had been captured by the Kamhaus.

Iron Work.—The blacksmith is one of the village officials described in Chapter III, para. 2. The forge is placed in the middle of the widest street to lessen the risk of fire; it is only a rough shed with a log platform in front, which is as favourite a resort for loafers as is the forge door in England. The bellows consist of two hollow wooden cylinders in which pistons fringed with feathers are worked up and down. The lower ends of the cylinders are buried in the ground, side by side, and from them two bamboo tubes converge, meeting just behind a stone through which there is a hole; the charcoal fire is placed in front of this stone, and when the pistons are worked smartly a very strong draught is obtained. The blacksmith does little more than make and repair the simple agricultural implements of the village, but I have heard rumours of some who are capable of making gun locks. I think the form of bellows and the art of working iron have been introduced by captives, as the same type of bellows is found in the adjoining plains.

Cloth Manufacture.—Cotton is grown in the jhums. It is cleaned in a home-made gin, consisting of a frame holding two wooden rollers, one end of each being carved for a few inches of its length into a screw, grooved in the opposite way to the other, so that on the handle being turned the rollers revolve in opposite directions, and the cotton is drawn between them, the seeds being left behind. The cotton is then worked by hand into rolls a few inches long, whence it is spun into the spindle of a rough spinning wheel, or occasionally a bobbin is used, which, being given a sharp twist, draws the cotton into a thread by its own weight. This method admits of diligent ones spinning as they go to and from their jhums. The thread having been spun, it is thoroughly wetted and then hung in loops some three or four feet long over a horizontal bar, and stretched by several heavy bars being suspended in these loops. [31]

Weaving.—The warp is prepared by passing the thread round two smooth pieces of wood, one of which is fastened to two uprights, while the ends of the other are attached to the ends of a broad leather band, which passes behind the back of the weaver as she sits on the ground and, by leaning back, stretches the threads to the requisite degree of tightness. The woof is formed by passing to and fro bamboos round which are wound different coloured threads, which are beaten home with a well polished batten made of the sago palm.

A very serviceable form of quilt called “puanpui” is made by passing round every fourth or fifth thread of the warp a small roll of raw cotton and drawing both ends up. A row of these cotton rolls is put in after every fourth or fifth thread of the woof, so that on one side the quilt is composed of closely placed tufts of cotton.

Dyeing.—The commonest dye is obtained by boiling the leaves of the Assam indigo (Strobilanthes flaccidifolia). Many immersions are required to render the colour permanent, and as the plant, which is cultivated near the villages or in the gardens, does not grow luxuriantly, it is seldom possible to obtain enough leaves in any one year for more than two immersions, so that the whole process may take two or three years.

Several red and yellow dyes are known, but they are little used, and most of the thread, excepting the blue and white, is obtained from the bazars.

Ornamentation.—Cloths are ornamented almost entirely by lines of different colours. White cloths have blue and red stripes down the centre and sometimes one transversely about a foot from either end. Coloured cloths are mainly blue, with stripes of red, yellow, and green. Zigzags are not uncommon, and short lengths of this pattern are placed haphazard on cloths and coats. The stems of women’s pipes are ornamented with spirals and coils.

8. Domestic animals. The most valued animal is the mithan; these tame bison wander all day at will in the jungle round the village and towards dusk return spontaneously, each animal going to its owner’s house, round which it loiters till it receives a little salt, after which it joins the rest of the herd under the zawlbuk. The animals are only used for slaughter. They interbreed [32]freely with the wild mithan, and the hybrids are, I believe, not sterile. The other domestic animals are pigs, goats, fowls, and dogs. The pigs are the scavengers of the village, but are generously fed on a species of arum and rice husks boiled together. The fowls are of a small breed; pure white, brown, and black are the commonest colours, but there is also a handsome spangled breed. The dogs have bushy tails, which curl tightly. Dogs are eaten freely, but their chief value is derived from the demand for sacrificial purposes. The goats are splendid animals with long silky hair and very large horns.

9. Agriculture. The only form of agriculture practised is that known to us generally as jhuming, and it consists in felling a piece of jungle and when it has completely dried setting fire to it. The ground is thus cleared and manured by the ashes at the same time. Timber which is not entirely burnt is dragged to the side of the plot and made into a rough fence to keep deer out. The surface of the jhum is lightly hoed over and then there is nothing more to be done till the gathering clouds warn the cultivator that the rains are about to break, then everyone sallies out, each with a small basket of seeds slung over one shoulder and the square-ended dao in hand. Line is formed at the lower end of the clearing, and the whole family proceeds slowly upwards, dibbling shallow holes with their daos and dropping into each a few seeds. It is considered very lucky to get well soaked while sowing. The chief crop is rice, but the maize, ripening as it does in August, is eagerly looked for by the improvident Lushais who have probably used up more rice than was prudent in the manufacture of beer. The rice does not ripen till November or December, though a little early rice is grown which ripens in September. Between the sowing and the end of the rains in October the crop requires constant weeding, a duty which falls on the women folk if the family contains enough of them. In each clearing a small house is built, well raised off the ground, in which the cultivators stay during the time the work is heaviest. The other crops grown are millet, Job’s tears, peas, and beans. Tobacco and cotton are also grown for home consumption. The rice is cut very high as the straw has no value. It is threshed on a piece of ground specially levelled near the jhum house. Threshing is done in [33]two or three ways. The ears are thrown on to the threshing floor and trodden out by persons dancing on them, or are beaten with sticks till the grains have all fallen out. Both these methods are rather wasteful, and a better one, which is much used in the northern part of the hills, is to construct a platform about 7 or 8 feet from the ground on which a circular bamboo bin is fixed, into which the ears of rice are thrown and a young man with a girl as a companion dance merrily among them, singing all the while, the split end of the bamboos of which the platform is made keeping up a cheerful clatter. The grain is quickly separated from the ear and falls in a golden cone on to the threshing floor, whence it can be easily collected and stored in large round bins in the jhum houses or in specially built granaries in some sheltered nook at a convenient distance from the village.

Jhuming is certainly a very wasteful method of cultivation, as seldom more than two crops are taken off the same piece of land, which is then allowed to lie fallow till it has again become covered with jungle, which will take three or four years in the case of bamboo, and seven to ten if the jungle be trees. Tree land is said to give better crops, but the labour of felling is greater than in the case of bamboo and more weeding is required, and if the land is jhumed too frequently the trees give place to coarse grass, which the Lushais refuse to jhum, whereas bamboos only grow thicker for cutting.

10. Hunting and fishing. All the hill men are very fond of fresh meat, and are clever at trapping game. Long lines of rough fencing are run through the jungle, with small openings at intervals, in which snares are set. Pheasants, jungle fowl, &c., coming to one of these fences will always run along it till an opening is found, and thus get snared. Porcupines are killed by a bamboo spear fastened to a sapling bent back like a spring alongside a run and so arranged that it shall be released just as the animal is opposite the spear point. Tigers are caught under a platform of heavy logs, which is supported in an inclined position by a strong cane passed over a cross piece held up by two uprights. In a hole under this platform is placed a pig in a basket; on the tiger pulling at the basket the heavy platform falls and squashes him, while the pig, being in a hole, escapes. Deer, [34]wild cats, &c., are caught in snares, a noose being arranged so that on the animal’s stepping in it a sapling to which the noose is attached, and which is held down in a bent position, is released, thus hoisting the animal up into the air. The method of releasing the bent sapling or causing the platform to fall is in all cases the same. Two uprights are driven into the ground and a bar securely tied across near their tops. The string or rope which supports the platform or keeps the sapling in a bent position has a wooden toggle tied to it. The string is drawn between the uprights and one end of the toggle is hitched under the bar and the other end drawn down between the uprights until it is perpendicular, in which position it is held by a movable piece of wood being slipped across the uprights, just behind its lower end. In this position the pull of the string is on the upper cross bar, and a very slight touch will remove the lower one and set the toggle free; then up goes the string and down comes the platform or the noose is tightened. The removal of the lower bar is achieved in several ways. The bait or one end of a string stretched across the run may be tied to it, or it may be made to support one end of a tiny platform, on which the unwary quarry treads as it passes.

Pitfalls constructed in former times for the capture of elephants are found all over the hills, generally on a narrow ridge between precipices. To catch monkeys some rice is placed on a small platform at the end of a partially severed bamboo standing at a right angle to the hillside. The monkey, attracted by the rice, springs on to the platform and is precipitated on to a number of bamboo spikes which have been stuck in the ground beneath it. The same device with suitable alterations is sometimes employed to destroy tigers and bears.

The Lushai is also very fond of shooting, and with his old flintlock accounts each year for a good number of bears and tigers. If a village is much troubled by a tiger systematically waylaying its livestock, a general hunt is ordered, guns are borrowed from the neighbours, and the tiger, having been tracked into a piece of jungle, is approached by a shouting mob, from which he flies. Every effort of his to turn from the path selected for him is defeated by well posted crowds, who turn him back with shouts and beating of drums, till, wearied out, he comes to bay and falls [35]a victim to a volley from all the guns present, but before he dies he has often severely mauled several of his tormentors.

Large hunting parties make lengthy expeditions into the uninhabited parts in search of elephants and wild mithan. To kill an elephant with their flintlocks is not an easy task. A volley is fired at the selected animal, which is then followed for days, being fired at when an opportunity occurs, till it falls from sheer exhaustion. The following graphic account of an unsuccessful hunt was written for me by a Lushai. The Kongpuishiam and funeral ceremonies will be described in the proper place further on.

“When Hmongphunga’s village was at Kanghmun, they intended to go out shooting. They performed the Kongpuishiam ceremony; they placed the ashes in the middle of the road. Early next day they went and looked at them, and in the ashes they saw the footmarks of a tiger, an elephant, and a man. They started on the hunting expedition, carrying plenty of rice with them. They certainly found the elephants and fired a volley at one of them. One of the party was called Hrangkunga. The elephant ran away. They found it in a narrow ravine. Hrangkunga was about to shoot at it from above when the earth gave way and he rolled down close to the elephant, which picked him up and carried him to a level place close by, and threw him down and trampled on him and broke up his gun and powder horn. His friends fired at the animal, and it went off; they could not kill it. When the elephant had gone they took up Hrankunga and buried him close by in the jungle, and set out for their village, near which they shot a tiger. When the people in the village heard of their approach they came out to meet them with ‘zu.’ The hunters wrapped up grass and leaves in a cloth to represent the corpse of their friend. Outside the village they fired guns and put down the effigy, which was buried by the elders of the village. Shortly after this they went out shooting again, and after going some way they saw Hrangkunga’s ghost on the branch of a tree and were very frightened, and went home.”

Fishing is carried on with the ordinary casting net, and fish are sometimes killed with spears or daos by torchlight, but most reliance is placed on the “ngoi.” This is a weir built of [36]timber and bamboos reinforced with stones, which stretches from side to side of the river. At one side an opening is left through which the water rushes with great force into a long bamboo shoot, which curves slightly upwards and ends in a deep receptacle, also of bamboo. The fish are carried into this by the force of the water which escapes between the bamboos, and are unable to leap out. Close by is placed a hut, well raised off the ground, in which the fishermen live for several days at a time and smoke the catch. Any chance openings in the weir are closed with conical baskets which detain small fish, prawns, &c. These weirs are constructed by the united labour of the whole village, and any villager can make use of them, but he has to pay a toll in kind to the chief. Certain spots are peculiarly adapted for these weirs, and each is by prescriptive right the property of the village occupying a certain site in the vicinity, any infringement of which will lead to a serious quarrel.

Deep pools in the smaller streams are sometimes poisoned by having a decoction of a certain herb called “kokur” or of a bark called “ru” poured into them. This stupefies the fish, which float to the surface and are easily captured. The mixture is said to be harmless to human beings or cattle.

11. Food and drink. The Lushai when speaking of food always means rice. Though he is fond of meat and likes vegetables and seasonings, he only considers them as a garnish to his rice. When a mithan is killed to feast the village, the flesh is boiled in earthen pots in the street and the contents emptied out on to plantain leaves, whence the feasters help themselves with their fingers, washing down the savoury morsels with the water in which they have been boiled, but this banquet in no way takes the place of the regular meal of rice.

Flesh of all animals is eaten, and is not objected to even when considerably decomposed. The flesh of leopards and tigers is only eaten by children, but in spite of many enquiries I have been unable to ascertain why adults abstain from this article of diet. Rats of the white-bellied variety are considered a luxury. Dogs, especially puppies, are a favourite dish. Next to rice, maize may be considered the most important staple. It is eaten boiled, never being ground into flour. Besides the [37]grains and herbs which he grows in his jhums, the Lushai finds many edible roots and herbs in the jungle. The young shoots of the bamboo are by no means unpleasant eating, and a salad of those of the sago palm is quite a luxury, while the pith of the latter is much eaten in times of scarcity. When a large animal has been killed at any distance from the village the flesh is cut into strips and dried over a slow fire, after which it remains edible, according to Lushai ideas, for a very long time. Boiling is the only culinary art known.

As regards his drink, the Lushai has very simple tastes. With his meals he drinks nothing but the water in which the food has been boiled, which he sips sparingly, washing the meal down with a draught of cold water. Intoxicating drinks he only takes when he has full leisure to enjoy them and in company with a party of friends.

There are two kinds of such drinks, both home-made, from rice. The commonest is known as “zu,” and is a simple partially fermented drink; the other, called “rakzu” or “zuthak,” is distilled. This is very seldom used, being only made on special occasions. The still is a very simple contrivance, generally consisting of an earthenware pot on the top of which a gourd is fixed securely, the joint being made airtight with rags and clay; through the top of the gourd is passed a bamboo which is swathed in rags which are kept wet so as to condense the vapour from the pot. Zu is a very important article with these people. It is required for the due observance of every ceremony; a child’s birth is an occasion for entertaining its relations, no marriage can be celebrated without the consumption of zu, while after his death a Lushai’s friends and relatives drown their sorrow in all the zu they can obtain.

Has a demon to be propitiated, the return of a raiding or hunting party to be celebrated or a friend to be welcomed, in every case zu is indispensable.

Good zu takes some time to prepare. After being well bruised, paddy is damped and packed away in several layers of leaves and kept for some months—the longer the better. When the zu has to be brewed the bundles are opened and the contents placed in a large earthen jar and well pressed down, with a layer of leaves on top, and the jar filled up with water. [38]After standing a few minutes the liquor is drawn off by a syphon into a brass or wooden bowl, out of which it is handed round to the guests in horns or small bamboos. The principal guest is served first, and as he tosses off the cup he names the one in whose honour he drinks, who in duty bound must drink next, naming another to follow him. While the important personages are thus ceremoniously entertaining each other the rank and file sitting round in a circle are each in turn receiving a brimming horn full. As the supply in the jar gets low, more water is added, so that the quality of the liquor steadily deteriorates. Occasionally, instead of drawing off the zu, a tube is inserted and each toper in turn sucks up his allowance, the appearance of the top of a peg, inserted in the layer of leaves, giving him a hint when to leave off.

Should the zu not have been kept long enough, a cake of yeast prepared from rice may be required to start fermentation. Well prepared zu is by no means an unpalatable drink. It contains much nourishment, and Savunga, one of our opponents in the 1871–72 expedition, whom I found still living in 1898, was said to have taken little else during the last two years of his life. The drink naturally varies much in strength, but even at its strongest it is not very intoxicating, and it has not the exciting effect which the drink brewed from maize and millet seems to have on the eastern tribes, among whom violent crimes, committed during drinking bouts, are very common.

12. Amusements. The songs which the folk seem never tired of singing are slow, solemn dirges sung by the whole party to the accompaniment of a drum or gong, and are generally in praise of some former home of the tribe or some departed hero.

The dances also are very slow and monotonous. A single male performer enters the circle of drinkers and postures slowly, keeping time to the drum or gong. There are one or two exceptions, such as the dances in which the performer imitates a monkey or a bird, but generally speaking they are most uninteresting.

The men are fond of putting the weight; the stone used is a light one weighing 10 to 12 lbs. and the thrower is allowed to follow on as much as he likes. Jumping and running races are [39]never indulged in, and, though I have often prevailed on the young men to try, the results were always very poor.

The Lushais are very badly off for games. Girls play a game with a large, flat bean, called “koi.” The players divide into two parties, each in turn placing their kois in a row on the ground to serve as a target for those of the other party, which are held between the thumb and first finger of the left hand and propelled by the middle finger of the right. Should the target not be struck the first time, each firer goes to where her koi lies and again aims at the target, but this time the missile has to be propelled in another manner. Sometimes it is placed between the knees and jerked forward by a sharp jump, or it is balanced on the cheek or forehead and then projected by a jerk of the head, or it may be balanced on the instep and kicked towards the mark. This game is played among the Manipuris, who call it “Kang sanaba.” The koi bean of the Lushai is called “kang” by the Manipuris, but the latter now usually use round discs of ivory instead of the natural bean.

A game played by both sexes is “Vai lung thlān.”1

The players sit on the ground on opposite sides of two parallel rows of shallow holes. In each row there are six holes and in each hole five small stones are placed. Each player in turn picks up all the stones in any hole in the row nearest him and, commencing from the hole next on the left, drops one in each hole along his row and then back along that of his opponent. If at the end of a turn one or more of the holes last dropped into is found to contain only one stone, the player removes these single stones and places them aside. The game continues till all the stones have been thus removed, and the winner is he who has taken most. Counting the stones in the hole before removing them is not allowed, and considerable skill is required to judge accurately the number of stones, so as to select a hole containing the number of stones which when distributed will leave the maximum number of holes with single stones in them. This game, under the name of “Mancala Bao” and “Warri,” is played by the Negroes in many parts of Africa, but on elaborately carved boards. [40]

Boys and young men are very proficient with the pellet bow, and many a bird and squirrel falls victim to the sun-dried pellets shot from their bamboo bows, with strings of cane. The other amusements of the children consist chiefly in imitating their elders, the building of model houses forming a favourite pastime. Swinging is also popular, the swing consisting of a creeper suspended from the branch of a tree or from two poles stuck in the ground and tied together at the top. The swinger holds on to the end of the creeper, or places one leg through a loop, or sits astride a big knot tied at the end of it. [41]

1. Internal structure. The population of a village ruled by a Thangur chief at the present time is composed of representatives of many tribes and clans, which have all more or less adopted the language and customs of their rulers. I have already described the rise of the Thangurs and the process by which they either ejected or absorbed into their communities the other inhabitants of the country.

Our arrival in the country put a stop in certain cases to this process of absorption. For instance, many chiefs held considerable numbers of Paihte or Vuite and Khawtlang in a species of semi-slavery. These were captives or descendants of captives made in war, and nearly all have availed themselves of the Pax Britannica to return to their own people. Again, we found certain villages ruled over by non-Lushei chiefs, who were living under the protection of powerful Lushei chiefs. In the process of pacification these non-Lushei chiefs regained their independence and have gathered round them many of their clansmen, who formerly were scattered among the Lushei villages, and who, if we may judge by what has undoubtedly happened in other cases, would in a short time have become completely absorbed. Inquiries lasting over many years have convinced me that these clans are little more than enlarged families. In most cases the dialects of the minor clans have been entirely forgotten, and the only differences remaining are the manner of performing the “sakhua” or domestic sacrifice, the position occupied by the corpse at the funeral feast, and such other minor points. [42]

A stranger might live for a long time in a Lushai village without knowing that such divisions existed. Every clan is further subdivided into families and branches. Thus the Lushei clan has several families. One of these is the Thangur, and the Thangur family has six branches—Rokum, Zādeng, Rivung, Thangluah, Pallian, and Sailo—but none of these branches has any further sub-division, though the descendants of certain powerful chiefs are sometimes collectively spoken of by their ancestor’s name, showing how these clan, family, and branch names have arisen.

During the census of 1901 an unsuccessful attempt was made to get a complete list of the clan families and branches. The causes of the failure were the ignorance of the people themselves as to what clan or family they belonged to and the tendency to claim to be true Lushais.

Everyone knew the name of the branch to which he belonged, and as a rule the family name would be correctly given, but in many cases the clan name was altogether omitted, or Lushei was entered against families which had no real claim to that distinction.

An old Lushai once asked me why I was troubling myself about family and branch names, and on my explaining that I hoped to make a complete list of them he muttered, “Can you count the grains in that basket of rice?” and turned from me to the zu-pot.

As a sample of the constitution of a clan I give in the Appendix a list of all the families and branches of the Lushei clan.

My enquiries lead me to believe that practically all the clan and a great many of the family and branch names are eponyms. In some cases the name of a village site has been given to its inhabitants, first probably by outsiders and eventually adopted by the people themselves, but even in these cases as often as not enquiry will show that the village site was first named after some famous chief who lived there.

Before the Thangur chiefs had risen to their present predominant position there were many consanguineous communities scattered over the hills, living under headmen of their own and each using a dialect of its own. Some of these communities [43]appear to have had separate corporate existence for long periods and in consequence to have been sub-divided into many families and branches, while others were quickly absorbed by the Thangur and consequently have few sub-divisions.

I have been accused of deriving “Lushei” from “lu,” head, and “shei,” long. If in the salad days of my sojourn among these folks I was ever guilty of this folly, I hereby publicly repudiate it. There is no doubt that Lushei, in common with the other clan names, is an eponym.

A versatile and imaginative writer has recently derived “Sailo,” the name of the branch of the Lushai clan to which the present chiefs belong, from “sai” elephant, and “lo,” a jhum, alleging that because the elephant is the biggest animal, therefore “Sailo” means the biggest jhum and that the name refers to the excellence of the jhum land between Burkhal and the source of the Kornaphuli river, where he says the Sailos formerly lived. There are some objections to this theory; to begin with, the Lushais never use “sai” as a prefix meaning greatness, and secondly half the area mentioned was never inhabited by Sailo chiefs, and thirdly only a small and little considered branch of the great Sailo family ever entered this land of fatness and not till long after the family name had been generally accepted; further the name of the common ancestor of all the Sailo chiefs is known to have been Sailova, which is a common name still in the family.

2. Tribal organisation of the Lushais. Among the Lushais, each village is a separate State, ruled over by its own “lāl” or chief. Each son of a chief, as he attained a marriageable age, was provided with a wife at his father’s expense, and given a certain number of households from his father’s village and sent forth to a village of his own. Henceforth he ruled as an independent chief, and his success or failure depended on his own talents for ruling. He paid no tribute to his father, but was expected to help him in his quarrels with neighbouring chiefs; but when fathers lived long it was not unusual to find their sons disowning even this amount of subordination. The youngest son remained in his father’s village and succeeded not only to the village, but also to all the property.

Our rule has tended to increase the independence of the [44]young chiefs; for in former days, when might was right, it behoved a son to follow the advice of his father, or the latter’s help might not be forthcoming when danger threatened.

The chief was, in theory at least, a despot; but the nomadic instinct of the people is so strong that any chief whose rule was unduly harsh soon found his subjects leaving him, and he was therefore constrained to govern according to custom.

To assist him each chief appoints one or more elderly men, known as “upa.” These form a sort of council which discusses all matters connected with the village, and decides all disputes between people of the village, for which they receive fees termed “salām” from the party who loses the case. These fees are their only remuneration. The chief presides over this council, which is generally held of an evening in the chief’s house, while the zu horn circulates briskly. The chief receives a portion of each fine levied, a practice found to prevent undue leniency.

Besides the upas the chief appoints the following village officials—“rāmhual” and “tlangau.” The former, of whom there may be several, are advisers as to where the jhums shall be cut, and are allowed first choice of land for the purpose, but have to give the chief five to seven baskets of paddy instead of two, which is the portion due from other subjects.

The tlangau is the crier, whose high-pitched voice is heard after dark, when every good householder is at home, proclaiming the chief’s orders.

He also arranges how the work of the village is to be divided, who are to go and make a road, who are to repair the zawlbuk, &c.

In return for his labours he receives a small basket of rice from each house in the village.

Besides the rāmhual and the tlangau, no village is complete without at least one “thirdeng,” or blacksmith, and a “puithiam,” or sorcerer. The former receives one basket of rice from each householder whose tools he repairs; the latter receives the same amount from each householder for whom he performs the sacrifices connected with his cultivation.

The chief receives one hind leg of every wild animal shot by any of his men, and when the killing of elephants was allowed [45]he took one of the tusks if his villagers were lucky enough to slay one of those animals.

The villagers build the house of their ruler, and formerly they also cut his jhum, but I regret to say that nowadays they have ceased doing so, and this is an unsatisfactory sign of how, without any desire on our part to do so, our rule has weakened the authority of the chiefs.

The chief held rather an anomalous position. Nominally he was a despot—I am speaking now of the state of things which existed prior to our occupation of the Hills—but in reality his power was very much circumscribed, and his subjects could so easily transfer their allegiance to some rival chief, who would probably be willing, for a consideration, to champion the cause of his last recruit, that every ruler had to use tact as well as force. In fact the amount of power he wielded depended almost entirely on the personal influence of the chief. A strong ruler, who governed mainly according to custom, could do almost anything he liked without losing his followers, but a weak man who tried petty tyrannies soon found himself a king without any subjects.

The chiefs naturally tried their best to stop people leaving their villages, and it was customary to confiscate the paddy of any person who left the village without permission, but leave was seldom refused if the emigrant intended moving to the village of a friendly chief; and if the fugitive took refuge with a more powerful ruler it was extremely likely that a demand for the prompt surrender of all his property would be made with such a show of force that it could not be ignored.

I add here two extracts from Colonel Lewin’s book, “The Hill Tracts of Chittagong and the Dwellers Therein,” page 100.

“The village system among the Kookis, i.e. (Lushais) is best described as a series of petty states, each under a Dictator or President. To illustrate the position of the chief or President I may mention that in 1866, when on a visit to the village of one of the leading chiefs among the Looshai, I was standing talking with him in the path that ran through the village. While we were thus standing a drunken Looshai came stumbling along, and finding us somewhat in the way, he seized the chief by the neck and shoved him off the path, asking why he [46]stopped the road. On my asking the chief for an explanation of such disrespect being permitted, he replied, ‘On the war-path or in the council I am chief, and my words are obeyed; behaviour like that would be punished by death. Here, in the village, that drunkard is my fellow and equal.’ In like manner any presents given to the chief are common property. His people walk off with them, saying: ‘He is a big man, and will get lots more given to him. Who will give to us if he does not?’ On the other hand, all that is in his village belongs to the chief; he can and does call upon people to furnish him with everything that he requires.

“To collect his people, or in fact to authenticate any order, the chief’s spear, which is usually carved and ornamented, is sent by a messenger from village to village. Should the message be a hostile one, the messenger carries a fighting dao, to which a piece of red cloth is attached. Another method is by the ‘phuroi,’ which is a species of wand made out of strips of peeled bamboo, about eight inches long, in this shape (†). If the tips of the cross pieces be broken, a demand for blackmail is indicated, a rupee to be levied for each break. If the end of one of the cross pieces is charred, it implies urgency, and that the people are to come even by torch light. If a capsicum be fixed on to the ‘phuroi,’ it signifies that disobedience to the order will meet with punishment as severe as the capsicum is hot. If the cross piece is of cane, it means that disobedience will entail corporal punishment.”

The “Boi” Custom.—Among the Thados and Chins real slavery used to exist, and men and women were sold like cattle. Among the Lushais this has never been the case, but there is a class known as “boi” who have been miscalled slaves by those ignorant of their real condition.

Among the Lushais no one but a chief can have boi, who are divided into the following classes:—

(i.) Inpuichhung (Inpui = big house, chhung = within), Lalchhung, or Chhungte—viz. those who live in the big house or chief’s house. (ii.) chemshen boi (chem = dao, shen = red); (iii.) tuklut boi (tuk = promise, lut = to enter). The first class consist of all those who have been driven by want of food to take refuge in the chief’s house. Widows, orphans, and others [47]who are unable to support themselves, and have no relatives willing to do so, form the bulk of this class of “boi,” but it is not unusual, if a young widow remarries, for her second husband to insist on his predecessor’s children being put into the chief’s house, unless any of their father’s relatives will take them. The inpuichhung are looked on as part of the chief’s household, and do all the chief’s work in return for their food and shelter. The young men cut and cultivate the chief’s jhum and attend to his fish traps. The women and girls fetch up wood and water, clean the daily supply of rice, make cloths, and weed the jhum, and look after the chief’s children. In return the boi get good food and live in the chief’s house, and often wear his ornaments and use his guns and weapons. They have to do very little more work than they would have to do if they were independent, and, on the other hand, they are free of all anxiety as to the morrow.

As all the chiefs are of the same family, a boi is at liberty to move from one chief’s house to another. If a chief or his wife treats a boi very badly, the injured one goes off and seeks for a new master, and, as a large number of boi is considered to increase a chief’s importance, every chief is willing to receive him, and therefore boi are generally well treated. In former days powerful chiefs like Sukpuilala and Vutaia only allowed their boi to go to one of their own relations, but even then a boi very often would manage to find an asylum with some equally powerful chief.

When a person has once entered the chief’s house, he or she can only purchase freedom by paying one mithan or its equivalent in cash or goods. The fact that a boi can ever do this shows that he is allowed to acquire property. When a male boi reaches a marriageable age, the chief generally buys him a wife, and he lives with her for three years in the chief’s house: should he marry a female boi, the couple have to live six years in the chief’s house. After this period, he sets up a house of his own and is known as “inhrang (in = house, hrang = separate) boi,” and works for himself, but is still in some respects a boi. If he kills any animal he has to give a hind leg to the chief, and failure to do so renders him liable to a fine of one mithan or its equivalent. If the chief is in want of [48]rice he can call on his boi to help him if they have any surplus, and if a boi is in want he can look to the chief for assistance.

Regarding the children of such a boi, customs differ somewhat. Some chiefs have made it the rule that only the youngest son, who inherits his father’s property, is a boi, the remainder of the sons and all the girls being entirely free. Others insist that all the children are boi, and that the chief is entitled to the marriage prices of the daughters. They give, as a reason for this, that the chief has paid for the boi’s wife and so is entitled to consider the children as boi. In either case the children are inhrang boi.

A female boi is allowed to marry, and the chief receives the marriage price, and when this has been paid in full he has no further claim on the woman or her children during her husband’s lifetime, but should she be left a widow, she is sometimes forced to re-enter the chief’s house; but as a rule, if she behaves decently, she is allowed to remain on in her husband’s house, and manage his property on behalf of his children, who are never considered boi. Should she re-marry, the chief will again receive whatever sum is paid as her marriage price.

It will be seen that the inpuichhung are by no means badly off, and the custom seems in every way suited to the circumstances of the case. Many a clever young man rises from being a boi to being the chief’s most trusted adviser, and it is by no means unusual for a chief to take a favourite boi into his own family by the ceremony called “Saphun” (see under Adoption, page 54).

(ii.) Chemsen Boi (Red Dao Boi).—These are criminals who, to escape from the consequences of their ill deeds, take refuge in the chief’s house. Murderers closely pursued by the avengers of blood rushed into the chief’s presence and saved their lives at the expense of their own or their children’s freedom. Debtors unable to pay their creditors sought the chief’s protection, and he released them from their debts on condition that they and their children became boi. Thieves and other vagabonds avoided punishment by becoming the chief’s boi. Civil disputes were unblushingly decided in favour of the party who volunteered to become the chief’s boi. It is evident that the custom in these cases has grown up by degrees from the [49]chief’s granting sanctuary to those who, having committed serious crimes, were in danger of being killed by those they had injured or their relatives.

Chemsen boi do not live in the chief’s house or work for him. Their position is similar to that of an inhrang boi, but all their children are considered boi to the same extent as their parents. The chiefs generally take the marriage price of the daughters of such Boi.

(iii.) Tuklut (Enter by Promising) Boi.—These are persons who during war have deserted the losing side and joined the victors by promising that they and their descendants will be boi. A tuklut boi can purchase his freedom for a mithan, and if there are three or four persons in one household one mithan will release them all. As a rule the daughters of tuklut boi are not considered boi. A tuklut boi does not live in the chief’s house, and is in most respects in the same position as an inhrang boi.

Chemshen boi have not been recognised by our officers, and whenever one has claimed protection he has been released. The tuklut boi have also not been formally recognised, but their duties weigh so lightly on them that they seldom claim their release, and in their case, as in that of the “sāl,” the class, receiving no fresh recruits, will soon cease to exist. As regards the inpuichhung boi, the custom seems well suited to the people and provides for the maintenance of the poor, old, and destitute, and it would be extremely unwise to attempt to alter it.

When we first visited Kairuma in 1891, we found some 80 houses of Thado, Biate, and other clans living in his village (in a species of serfdom) very much on the footing of the tuklut boi, only that Kairuma received a mithan out of the marriage price of each of the daughters as well as the other dues. These people were remnants of conquered clans and were not allowed to leave the village. I was assured that, if any of them tried to run away, a party of young men would be at once sent off to kill or bring back the fugitives. When Kairuma’s village was burnt, owing to its continued contumacious behaviour, all these people made their escape to the villages of their own clans. [50]

Sāl.—Persons captured in raids are called “sāl”; their position is quite different from that of any of the classes of boi. They are the personal property of their captors, and I am told that when guns first made their appearance in the hills the western tribes used to exchange their sāl with the eastern tribes for guns, one strong sāl being worth two guns. As a rule only children and marriageable women were taken captive, and the latter were disposed of in marriage, the lucky captor acting in loco parentis and taking the marriage price. The children grew up in the captor’s house as his children, and as a rule were so well treated that they seldom wished to return to their former homes.

3. Marriage. The Lushais have wide views as to matrimony. A young man is not hampered in his choice by any table of prohibited degrees, nor is his choice confined to any particular family or clan; in fact, he can practically marry any woman he chooses except his sister or his mother. There is, however, a certain amount of prejudice against first cousins on the father’s side marrying, but the reason generally given for this is that when a girl’s parents have to consider the question of her marriage they naturally try to dispose of her outside the family, in order that her price may increase the wealth of the family, not merely transfer it from one brother to another. I have, however, been told that girls object to marrying their “brothers.” Among the chiefs the desire to marry another chief’s daughter limits the young man’s choice, and marriage among first cousins is more frequent than among commoners. Marriage among nearly all the other clans dealt with in this monograph is endogamous as regards the clan, but exogamous as regards the family. When we consider the composition of the following of the Thangur chiefs, we see at once the cause of this difference, for any restrictions on intermarriage would have interfered with that fusion of clans which was so necessary for the establishment of their power.

Regarding the number of his wives also the Lushai has great latitude; in fact, it is simply a matter of money. Experience has taught them that two wives in one house is not conducive to peace, and consequently polygamy is almost entirely confined to the chiefs, for few others can afford to keep up two establishments. [51]Marriage is purely a civil contract, although, as is described in Chapter IV, para. 7, a pseudo-religious ceremony is performed.

Among Lushais the following sums constitute the price which has to be paid for a wife:—

(i.) Manpui (Principal Price).—This is paid to the bride’s nearest male relative on the father’s side. In case the bride’s father is dead and she has brothers these divide the manpui, but if any one of them has contributed more than the others to the girl’s support, or has provided her “thuam”—i.e., her trousseau—he receives a larger share of the manpui than the others.

The manpui is always reckoned in mithan, and varies according to the family of the bride. Thus a Thangur maiden is valued at ten mithan, while less aristocratic girls are worth less, the lowest price being three. A custom seems springing up of counting the manpui in “tlai” = Rs. 20/-. If the bride’s “thuam,” or trousseau, is a good one a sum of Rs. 20/-, called “tlai,” is added to the manpui, but should the woman die without issue, this sum will not be paid, as the thuam will return to her father’s family. If she has children these inherit the thuam, and therefore in such cases the tlai must be paid. The thuam consists of necklaces, earrings, and superior cloths, not articles for everyday use.

(ii.) Pushum.—The perquisite of the nearest male relative on the mother’s side or of a person specially chosen as the bride’s “pu” or protector. It varies between Rs. 4/-, and Rs. 10/- but in the case of a chief’s daughter it is a mithan.

(iii.) Pālāl.—The bride or her relations select some trusted friend, who may be of any family, whom they appoint her “pālāl,” or trustee, and he is expected to look after her interests throughout her whole married life. His fee varies in accordance with the pushum.

(iv.) Niman (Aunt’s Price).—A sum equal to the pushum which has to be paid to the bride’s aunt on her father’s side. If there are several aunts the eldest takes the “niman” of the eldest niece and the second aunt that of the second niece and so on. It is possible for a niece to refuse to allow her aunt to take the niman and to select another person of her own family. [52]

(v.) Thian.—The “thian,” or friend, is a female pālāl, but she only receives a small sum from Rs. 10/- downwards.

(vi.) Nau Puan Puak Man (Price of Carrying the Younger Sister in her Cloth).—Each sister receives this from the husband of her next younger sister. Among Sailo it varies from Rs. 20/- to Rs. 40/-; in other families it is only Rs. 3/- or Rs. 4/-. In the case of the eldest sister it is taken by some near female relative.

These sums are never paid down at once; in fact, they are allowed to remain unpaid for many years, but, as a rule, in each family it is the custom to pay a certain amount of the manpui before the marriage; this is called “sum hmā hruai,” “price before taking.”

Divorce.—The bonds of matrimony are extremely loose and are very easily slipped off. If a couple disagree they simply separate. The woman returns to her parents and the man renounces all claim to any portion of her price which he may have paid, unless the woman agrees to its being partially returned. If the man turns the woman out for no fault he must pay up her full price, if he has not already done so. If a woman commits adultery or leaves her husband against his will, however unfaithful he may have been, the whole of her price has to be refunded.

If a pair who have separated by mutual consent wish to make it up they can do so. If the overtures are made by the man he is expected to pay the woman a small sum up to Rs. 20/-. If, however, the woman makes the advances the man has nothing to pay.

Widow Re-marriage.—There is no objection to a widow remarrying. If a woman has a son and there is any property, it is proper for her to remain unmarried and look after her son and his interests; should she, however, wish to remarry there is nothing to prevent her, but her late husband’s relatives will take charge of the children and all the property. Should a widow be left with daughters only, it rests with her husband’s nearest male relatives whether she shall continue to live separately or shall enter his house. It is not unusual in such cases for the widow to be allowed to bring up her daughters, utilising, with the heir’s approval, whatever property has [53]been left, but the marriage prices of the girls will be taken by their father’s heir. In olden times a widow had to remain unwashed and with her hair uncombed for a whole year from the death of her husband, but the period has been reduced to three months, out of pity for the women, and after that time remarriage is allowed. A widower who remarries before three months has passed since his wife’s death used to be fined, but this excellent custom has dropped out of use. Should a woman elect to live in her late husband’s house and bring up his children, she is considered as still married to him, and should she be detected in an intrigue her relatives will have to refund her marriage price just as if her husband were alive.

4. Female chastity. The unmarried girls are not very strictly looked after, and, if they conduct their intrigues with a fair amount of secrecy, nothing is said. As has been described in Chapter II, 3, there is a sleeping place on each side of the hearth, that furthest from the door—kumpui—being reserved for the parents, the other—kumai—being for the girls and young children. Sometimes, however, if the family is large, one of the girls sleeps with her parents. If a young man is found on the kumai nothing is said to him; if, however, he trespasses on the kumpui he is fined. In some villages if he even crosses the centre of the hearth he is fined. The fine varies in different villages, but it is about Rs. 10/-. If a girl becomes pregnant, the man responsible is at once surrounded by her relatives, who demand a mithan as the price of his indiscretion. This is called “sawn man,” “the price of the bastard.” This has to be paid even in the case of the child being born dead and in cases of premature births where the legs and arms are complete.

When the father has paid the sawn man he can claim the child as soon as it is old enough to leave its mother.

In cases in which the girl has been prodigal of her favours, no sawn man can be demanded.

In case a man should have a second illegitimate child by the same woman, he is not expected to pay more than Rs. 10/- and often nothing at all. For a third child he would, however, have to pay a mithan. In case when asked to pay sawn man, the man at once expresses his desire to marry the girl, he would [54]not have to pay the fine in addition to the usual marriage price. If, however, he delays in marrying her, he must pay both. In this matter, however, custom varies considerably in different villages.

5. Inheritance. The general rule is for the youngest son to inherit, but occasionally the eldest also claims a share. With chiefs it is usual for each son, as he comes to a marriageable age, to be given a certain number of households and allowed to set up a village of his own, but the youngest generally remains with his father, and inherits his village and his property.

Adoption.—Persons of property who have no son sometimes adopt a near relative, but there is no special ceremony; it is a purely private arrangement. The custom known as “Sā-phun,” is in some respects akin to adoption. Should a chief have a very favourite boi, he sometimes grants him admission into his own clan. The “puitiam” being called, a fowl or a pig is sacrificed, after the appropriate prayer has been said, and a few of the hairs or feathers are tied round the man’s neck, and he is henceforth considered to belong to the chief’s clan. Anyone can thus admit another to his clan, but in practice it is seldom done, except by chiefs. I think the sacrifice is made with a view to propitiate the Sakhua of the clan which the man is abandoning.

6. Offences regarding property. Certain articles are said “man a nei,” “to have a price,” and the theft of any of them is punished by a fine of one mithan, quite irrespective of the actual value of the article stolen. These are—rice cleaned or unhusked, cloths, guns, brass pots, domestic animals, and wild animals, or birds which have been killed or trapped. The theft of other articles is punished by fines of from Rs. 1/- to Rs. 5/-, which are taken by the chief and his upa, and termed “salām.” Restitution of the articles stolen is always insisted on.

To steal or even to retain a hoe or axe found on the road is most unlucky, and is supposed to be followed by the death of the finder’s child.

7. Offences connected with the body. The punishment in these cases rested originally with the aggrieved party or his relatives, who were allowed to exact summary vengeance. Thus a husband was at liberty to kill an unfaithful wife and her paramour, but if he did not take [55]refuge in the chief’s house, becoming a chemsen boi, the families of the victims were also entitled to kill him whenever they got an opportunity. Very shortly after our occupation of the Lushai Hills, two lads deliberately cut down a man who, they were told, had murdered their father many years before. The deed was done in broad daylight, in the middle of the village, and apparently attracted but little attention. The boys both entered the chief’s house, and I should never have heard of the occurrence had they not applied to be released from service to the chief.

To cut off the ears or nose of the paramour was a favourite way for a husband to avenge himself, and he did not always wait to be sure that there was anything to avenge. A man of Lianphunga’s village passed the night in Tlungbuta’s village, and, having been very hospitably treated by a friend, mistook the house of a very jealous husband for that in which he was to sleep, and was promptly ejected and deprived of his ears. Lianphunga, being a more powerful chief than Tlungbuta, exacted ten mithan as compensation for the injury done to his man, who, however, received absolutely nothing. The chief kept eight of the animals and killed two to feast the village, but the unfortunate victim was too ill even to share in the feast.

Rape or sodomy were punished in the same way, but the latter, if committed with the consent of the pathicus or with an animal, was not considered a crime, and there is no doubt that the class of men known as Tuai, who dressed as women and did women’s work, indulged habitually in this disgusting vice. Fortunately the class, never very large, has almost died out, but I fear the vice is far from extinct.

8. Decisions of disputes. The chief of each village, assisted by his upa, was the one and only court of justice in the village, and from their decisions there was no appeal, but nevertheless an unsuccessful litigant found a way of getting his case reheard. If the matter in dispute were of sufficient value to make half of it worth a great chief’s acceptance, the would-be appellant could generally find some powerful chief who would accept him as a subject and take up his quarrel on those terms. The custom of settling disputes by ordeal or by oaths, which is so common among the Naga tribes, is almost unknown to the Lushais. During the [56]fourteen years I was among them I have only twice heard a party to a case offer to accept the other’s oath.

In ordinary cases, a man wishing to be believed will take an oath holding a tiger’s tooth, saying, “If I lie, may a tiger eat me as I now gnaw this tooth”—suiting the action to the word.

An oath of friendship between chiefs is a serious matter. A mithan is tied up to a post and the parties to the oath, grasping a spear with their right hands, stab it behind the shoulder with sufficient force to draw blood, repeating a formula to the effect that until the rivers run backwards into the earth again they will be friends. The animal is then killed and a little of the blood is smeared on the feet and forehead of the oath takers. To make this oath more binding they both eat a small piece of the liver raw.

9. War and head-hunting. The true Lushai method of making war was to raid the enemy’s villages and carry off as many captives and as much loot as possible. In this they form a great contrast to the Chins, whose plan of action was systematically to ambush the paths in the enemy’s country and kill as many passers-by as possible. The Lushais consider this unsporting and say pathetically, “How can men live if for fear of ambushes no cultivation can be carried on?” The Chins were fully aware of the effectiveness of their method of warfare and resorted to it whenever they wished to extend their boundaries, piqueting the coveted piece of land so effectually that it was soon abandoned to them.

The essence of success in Lushai tactics was surprise, and no disgrace attached to a party of warriors which, on finding the enemy on the alert, quickly returned home without attempting any attack.

The wars between the different Lushai clans lasted sometimes for several years, but were not very energetically prosecuted. Thus in a war between the Thangluah and Sailo chiefs which lasted from about 1833 to 1850, about six villages were destroyed on each side, but, except on one occasion, but few lives were lost. The exception was the massacre of Thaurang, a Sailo chief’s village, which is still spoken of with pride by the descendants of the perpetrators. The people of Thaurang were celebrating a great feast, and in [57]all the principal houses in the village zu was being dispensed to all comers. There had been no hostilities of late, and the guards gradually abandoned their posts and joined the groups round the zu pots. With song and dance the night passed merrily, and by two or three in the morning no one was in a fit state to notice that a large number of strangers, whose drunkenness was only assumed, had mingled with the crowd. Suddenly a gun-shot gave the signal, and, drawing their dahs, the Thangluahs fell on their enemies, who, too drunk to know friend from foe, were slaughtered without mercy. Having burnt the village, the successful warriors returned dragging with them many captives. The Sailo chiefs tried to play the same trick on the Thangluah when some time later the latter were celebrating their victory with a large feast, but their intelligence department was inefficient and the attack was not delivered till some days after the feast.

At that time there were but few guns in the country, and so little was the use of those they had understood that the wad on the top of the bullet was often omitted, with the natural result that when the time for firing came there was no ball in the gun, and hot were the arguments as to the value of this new-fangled weapon. In those days also they had not acquired the art of making stockades, which they subsequently copied from the Chins, and consequently there was but little chance of resistance if the surprise was successful, and the shouts of the assailants were a signal for a general stampede on the part of the whole population. The attack was always delivered just before daylight, and, if successful, but little time was lost; as many captives as could be caught were collected and loaded with as much loot as they could carry without retarding the retreat, and the whole party set off and seldom halted till they had travelled forty-eight hours. As a rule only strong women and children who could keep up in the retreat were taken, all other captives being killed on the spot, and should any captive lag behind a spear thrust quickly ended her career, and her head was taken on to form an ornament in the raiders’ village. Occasionally a few young men were carried off to be killed during the festivities which were held in honour of the success of the raid. If the raiders’ chief had a son too young to [58]accompany them, a captive was frequently reserved for him to slaughter and thus prove his bravery.

Having put what they considered a safe distance between them and any possible pursuers, the party proceeded more leisurely, sending on messengers to announce their success, whose arrival set the village in a ferment, and everyone commenced preparations for the ensuing feast. As the brave warriors were seen in the distance the whole population rushed out to meet them with horns of zu for their refreshment, beating drums and gongs, and shouting praises of their bravery. The following is an accurate translation of an account given me by a Lushai of the proceedings which followed the return of a successful raiding party:—

“Formerly the Lushais raided the Tipperahs and captured about ten and dragged them back to their village, and killed them either in the street or just in front of their houses. Presently they said, ‘Let us dance.’ They danced before the heads of the slain, and a crowd collected and watched. The heads were placed on posts around the open space in the village, and those who had killed men came out into the space in the centre of the village with their guns and fighting dahs, wearing their ‘chhawn’ head-dress, and the girls came with beautiful plaits of red and black cotton thread and tied them round the knots of the young men’s hair. This is called ‘arkezen.’ Then the young men danced beautifully. ‘We are very magnificent,’ they said. In the middle of the open space a platform had been built of bamboos like those in front of the house. On this everyone collected any number of eggs, and those who had killed their enemies and those who had felt no fear ate up the eggs as fast as possible. This is called ‘mālchawh.’ Very tall ‘thingsia’ and ‘phulrua’ (kinds of bamboo) are put up in front of each man’s house and called ‘rālngul,’ and they hang to the end of the phulrua, by a piece of cane called ‘vawmhrui,’ a circle of pierced pieces of wood; these are called ‘hrangkhual.’”

In wars between Lushais it was considered wrong to kill chiefs. This, of course, was due to the chiefs being all of the same family.

When starting on a raid each man provided himself with cooked rice for several days. This was rammed down very tightly [59]into pieces of bamboo, so that several days’ food could be conveniently carried without fear of any being lost on the road. Sections of bamboos were also employed as water bottles, the bamboo being cut above one joint and below the next and a small hole made just below the joint on one side, which could be easily plugged with a roll of leaves; for sake of lightness the bamboo would be whittled down as much as could be safely done. These raiding parties travelled immense distances. About 1850, Vuta, whose village was then at Hweltu, suddenly appeared at Pirovi’s village on the Soldeng, and, taking the people entirely by surprise, made many captives, among whom were the chieftainess and her infant son. Many others were killed and much loot rewarded the daring savages. The distance between the two villages is about seventy miles in an air line and at least twice that by the jungle paths. Although guns quickly became common in the Hills, the style of warfare did not change. In the war between the Northern and Southern Chiefs, which lasted from 1856 to 1859, each side only made three successful raids, and the actual number killed in action appears to have been very small. I once asked one of the chiefs who had been very prominent in one of the later wars how many men he had killed with his own hand, and, on my expressing surprise at his admitting that he killed none, he naïvely remarked, “You see, we chiefs always go last, shouting ‘Forward, forward!’ and by the time I reached the village the people had always run away.” Though the Lushais were able to turn the Thados and other clans of their own kindred out of their possessions, yet when they came in contact with the Chins they were invariably defeated. In 1881 a large force of Southern Lushais raided Bunkhua, a Chin village to the north of the Tao hill. They burnt the village without much trouble, but the Chins refused to acknowledge this as a defeat and kept up a hot fire on their assailants, killing one of their bravest warriors. When the Lushais set out on their return journey they found the whole country up, and in a gorge they were greeted with a volley which laid forty of them low, and the remainder fled in all directions, and, had it not been for heavy rain, which washed away the bloodstains and made tracking difficult, but few would have reached their homes. [60]

Although when fighting among themselves the ambushing of cultivators and travellers was disapproved of, they resorted to it freely when fighting us, but our casualties were not very great, as the ambushers were so anxious about their own safety they generally fired too soon. These ambushes were always arranged below the road, where the ground fell away very sharply, and, having fired, the brave fellows hurled themselves down the hill, ignoring all cuts and scratches in their anxiety to escape.

Head-hunting.—It used to be considered that all inhabitants of these Hills were head-hunters. In fact, so great an authority as Colonel Lewin derives the name “Lushai” from “lu,” “a head,” and “sha,” “to cut.” This, of course, is a mistake, as the name of the clan is not Lushai, but Lushei, and though “sha” does mean “to cut,” it does not mean “to cut off,” and could not be used of cutting off a man’s head; but that such a mistake should have been possible shows how firmly rooted was the belief that head-hunting was one of the peculiarities of the population of these Hills. I believe that as far as the Lushais and their kindred clans are concerned, head-hunting was not indulged in. By this I mean that parties did not go out simply to get heads. Of course, a man who had killed his man was thought more highly of than one who had not, and, therefore, when a man did kill a person he brought the head home to show that he was speaking the truth; but the raids were not made to get heads, but for loot and slaves. The killing and taking of heads were merely incidents in the raid, not the cause of it. I think that the Chins or Pois are an exception to this, and, as far as I can gather, the glory of bringing in a head was sufficient to send a young man and his friends off on the raid.

I have also made careful enquiries in all parts of the Hills as to whether there is any truth in the commonly accepted theory that on the death of a chief a party was at once sent off to kill people in order that their heads might adorn his memorial and their ghosts wait on his spirit in the other world, but I never heard anything which lent any colour to the idea, and, as regards Lushais, I believe it to be a pure invention; but it was undoubtedly a Thado custom. If a single person is killed in a raid every person in the attacking party is entitled to all the honours pertaining to a slayer of a man. [61]

1. General form of religious beliefs. Practically all divisions of the Lushai-Kuki family believe in a spirit called Pathian, who is supposed to be the creator of everything and is a beneficent being, but has, however, little concern with men.

Far more important to the average man are the numerous “Huai” or demons, who inhabit every stream, mountain, and forest, and to whom every illness and misfortune is attributed. The “puithiam” (sorcerer) is supposed to know what demon is causing the trouble and what form of sacrifice will appease him, and a Lushai’s whole life is spent in propitiating these spirits.

In addition to Pathian and the Huai there is a spirit known as Khuavang, who is sometimes spoken of as identical with Pathian, but is generally considered to be inferior to him, and more concerned with human beings. Khuavang sometimes appears to people, and his appearance is always followed by the illness of those who see him. A Lushai will say, “My Khuavang is bad,” if things are going wrong with him, and he will also tell you that you are his Khuavang, meaning that his fate rests with you. I have also been told that there are two spirits called Mivengtu, watchers of men. One of these is a good spirit and guards people; the other is a bad spirit who is always trying to sell men to the Huai. Similarly each person is said to have two “thlarao,” or souls, one of which is wise, while the other is foolish, and it is the struggles between these two that make men so unreliable. If a man hits his foot against a stone, he attributes it to a temporary victory of the foolish spirit.

In addition to all these spirits, there is another. Each clan [62]has a special spirit presiding over its destinies. The spirit is known as “Sakhua,” and all sacrifices to him have to be performed by a puithiam of the clan, and only members of the family can be present.

The Lushais believe in a spirit world beyond the grave, which is known as Mi-thi-khua—i.e., dead man’s village—but on the far side of Mi-thi-khua runs the Pial river, beyond which lies Pial-ral, an abode of bliss. Access to this is not obtained by a life of virtue while on earth, but the due performance of sacrifices and the killing of men and certain animals and success in the courts of Venus. The following account of the common belief was written for me by a Lushai, who embellished his essay with a map. It will be noticed that in the latter he has inserted the Kristian’s (Christian’s) village and their heaven, the road to which is under Isua (Jesus), while the roads to the Lushai’s Mi-thi-khua are watched by Seitana (Satan). This incorporation of the teaching of the missionaries with the indigenous belief is not without interest, showing a broad spirit of tolerance in the author, who, without abandoning the faith of his forefathers, is ready to admit the truth of Christianity and its suitability to those who profess it, and sees no difficulty in providing in the unknown lands beyond the grave a special country for each race, just as there is in the world he knows of.

1. Legends. There are many tales common to all the Kuki-Lushai clans, though the names under which the various personages figure in them are not always the same. A numerous class of legends deals with the creation of the world and the first appearance of mankind thereon and other natural phenomena; another class accounts for the names of hills and rivers; a third class reminds one of Uncle Remus’s tales of the doings of Brer Rabbit; but there are also a great many which are simply tales and which are generally a trifle obscene. The following are instances of the first class:—

Chhura is said to have shaped the world, beating it out flat with his mallet. There are many tales connected with Chhura some of which will be found further on. The following translation gives a Lushai’s idea of an eclipse of the sun or moon:—

“Formerly the Hauhul chief swallowed the moon, having been changed during his dream into an awk, and many people were watching and said, ‘The awk is swallowing the moon.’ Then he awoke and his mouth was bleeding. A year later he died and his ghost was turned into an awk and went up into the sky, and the moon was full and big, and the ghost, which had been changed into an awk, could not swallow the moon, but the next day the moon was smaller and he swallowed it. Thus men knew for the first time that there was an awk.”

When an eclipse occurs there is much excitement and beating of drums, &c. This is to frighten the awk, for the Lushais believe that once the awk swallowed the sun so effectually that general darkness prevailed. This awful time is [93]called “Thimzing”—i.e., the gathering of the darkness—and many awful things happened. Everything except the skulls of animals killed in the chase became alive, dry wood revived, even stones became alive and produced leaves, and so men had nothing to burn. The successful hunters who had accumulated large stocks of the trophies of their skill were able to keep alive using them as fuel, and some of their descendants still survive among the Thados, under which heading they will be found in Part II. As it was pitch dark, neither animals nor men could see at all, and tigers went about biting wildly at trees, stones, and people. A general transformation took place, men being all changed into animals. Those who were going merrily to the jhum were changed into “satbhai” (laughing thrushes), as can be known by their white heads, which represent the turbans worn by the men, and their cheery chatterings. People wearing striped cloths became tigers, the chiefs of those days being represented by the hornbills of to-day, whose bills represent the bamboo rods for stirring rice while cooking; but another version is that the chiefs became king-crows, whose long tail-feathers the chiefs value much and wear as plumes. The black hands of the gibbon prove clearly that his ancestors were dyeing thread when the Thimzing occurred. Another version ascribes the same origin to the crows. Similarly those who were carrying torches finding their way down stream beds were changed into fireflies. The Chongthu family are sometimes said to have been turned into monkeys, the Vangchhia into elephants; but another version says the elephants were old women who were wearing their “puanpui”—i.e., cotton quilts—with the tufts of cotton outside. Wrestlers were suddenly transformed into bears, who to this day grapple with their foes.

The Paihte or Vuite clan became a species of squirrel, while the Rālte’s ancestor was just saying, “Vaibel kan chep te ang nge?” “Shall we suck our pipes?” and was therefore changed into a sort of squirrel called “chepchepa,” from the sound it is always making.

The domestic animals were changed into wild ones, but a number of large boulders in the Van-laiphai are said to represent Chhura’s mithan which were grazing there at the Thimzing. After this terrible catastrophe the world was again [94]repeopled by men and women issuing from a hole in the earth called the “Chhinglung,” which appeared to me to be a disused “cache” in which some long forgotten chief used to hide his valuables on the approach of danger. Mithan reappeared from gourd seeds, as is shown by their bellow “um mu”—i.e., gourd seed. Pigs issued from the Rih-lake, wherefore they come to their food when called “rih rih.” Fowls were re-created from the mud, so to this day they answer to the call “chirih chirih,” i.e., “chir mud.”

It is not quite clear how, if representatives of the different clans were changed into various animals, these same clans again issued from the Chhinglung, but our own legends are not always quite easy to follow.

The following is a translation of a Lushai account of the repeopling of the world and of a feast which is said to have taken place soon after:—

“The place whence all people sprang is called Chhinglung. All the clans came out of that place. Then two Rālte came out together, and began at once chattering, and this made Pathian think there were too many men, and so he shut down the stone. After a short time Thlāndropa was going to hold a Khuangchoi, and told them to call together all the people of the world, and when this had been done he held his Khuangchoi. They said to the sun, ‘Do not shine, because we want our leader the Sā-huai (Loris) to lead us in the dance,’ and the sun said, ‘All right.’ At that time the Sā-huai and all the animals could talk, and the bamboo rat was beating the drum, and they all danced, and in the middle of their fun the sun said, ‘Oh, how I do want to look,’ and shone out, and all the animals got hot, and could not dance any more, so the Sā-huai got angry and quarrelled with the sun, and won’t even look at it nowadays. There was a great feast of flesh, but the owl got no meat, so he got angry, and went and sat on the bough of a tree, and Zuhrei, the big rat, chaffed him and said, ‘Buka has eaten his fill.’ Then the owl being still hungry, got angry and bit Zuhrei. Since that day they have been at war, and if the owl sees Zuhrei he assuredly bites him.” The point of the allusion to the Rālte is that this clan is famed throughout the Hills for the loquacity of its members. [95]

Another story connected with this feast is that Thlāndropa gave a number of presents: to the ancestor of the Poi or Chin tribes he gave a fighting dao, while the ancestor of the Lushais only received a cloth, which is the reason that the Poi tribes are braver than the Lushais. On my asking what the ancestor of the white man had received, I was told he had received the knowledge of reading and writing—a curious instance of the pen being considered mightier than the sword.

Thlāndropa appears to have been a great person in his day, for he is supposed to have received Khuavang’s daughter in marriage, giving in exchange a gun, the report of which we call thunder. This legend puts Khuavang on a par with Pathian, and supports the theory that the differentiation is of comparatively recent growth.

There is a legend that the king of the Water Huai fell in love with Ngai-ti (loved one) and, as she rejected his addresses and ran away, he pursued her and surrounded the whole human race on the top of a hill called Phun-lu-buk, said to be far away to the north-east. As the water kept on rising, to save themselves the people threw Ngai-ti into the flood, which thereupon receded. It was the running off of this water which cut up the surface of the world, which Chhura had levelled, into the deep valleys and high hill ranges of which the whole world as known to the ancestors of the Lushais consisted.

As a sample of the second class of tale, the following story regarding the origin of the Tui-chong river, which joins the Kurnaphuli, near Demagri, may be taken:—

Nine miles from Demagri, on the Lungleh road, the traveller has to cross the Tui-chong river, one of the largest tributaries of the Kurnaphuli, on which Chittagong stands. This river, according to the Lushais, owes its origin to the self-denial of a girl called Tui-chongi, who, with her little sister Nuengi, was walking on the hills whence the river rises. It was April, and the sun blazed down on them. Nuengi began to cry for water. “How can I get you water on the top of a hill? Don’t you know that all the springs are dry, for are not the jhums ready to be burnt?” “Water, water, or I shall die,” wailed Nuengi. “Would you rather have water than me?” asked Tui-chongi. [96]“If I don’t get water, I shall die, and then of what use would you be to me?” replied the spoilt child. So Tui-chongi, to satisfy her youngest sister’s thirst, changed herself into a river, and Nuengi drank and was satisfied. But the water flowed down among the hills and burst its way into the country of the Bengalis. The king of the Bengalis was astonished to see so mighty a river flowing past his palace, and sent some of his people to find out whence it came. They journeyed many days, till at length they reached the source of the stream, and there sat Nuengi, who, now that her thirst was satisfied, would gladly have had her sister back again to show her the way home. The explorers were astonished to find so beautiful a maiden sitting thus in the middle of the jungle, and decided that it would be wise to take her back to their master, who liked pretty girls. So Nuengi was added to the harem of the king of Chittagong, and in time became the mother of a most lovely boy. The king’s chief wife, on seeing the child, thought to herself, “If my lord sees this jungle woman’s brat, he will assuredly love her more than me who am childless.” So she had the child thrown into the river, which flowed under the palace windows, and frightened Nuengi into keeping silence on the matter. Tui-chongi, however, in spite of the change in her circumstances, remembered her little sister, and cherished the child so that he grew and throve. In the same way six more children were born and thrown into Tui-chongi’s fostering arms. When they were grown up Tui-chongi told them the circumstances of their birth, and sent them to dance on the roof of their father’s palace, who, hearing the noise, came out to see the cause of the disturbance. When he saw seven handsome young men he was much astonished, and asked them who they were. “We are your sons,” they replied. “Why do you lie to me?” said the king; “liars have short lives in my kingdom.” “Nay, O king, we lie not; we are Nuengi’s sons”; and they told him their story. So the king smote off the head of the bad queen, and installed Nuengi in her place.

Of the third class the following are good examples, and admirers of Uncle Remus will be reminded of the doings of “Brer Rabbit and the other animals.” [97]

I propose, in this chapter, to deal only with Lushai, and to treat of the connection between the different dialects spoken in these Hills at the end of Part II.

Lushai or Dulien, which is the dialect of the Lushei clan, modified, doubtless, by contact with those of other clans, is now the lingua franca of the whole Lushai Hills, and is understood in many parts of the adjoining districts. A very complete grammar and vocabulary has been published by Messrs. Savage and Lorrain, now of the London Baptist Mission, and therefore I only propose to give a bare outline of the language here, which is largely borrowed from the above work.

Articles.—The indefinite article can generally be rendered by the numeral one.

The definite article is sometimes represented by demonstrative pronouns or relative particles.

Gender.—Inanimate objects have no gender. In nouns gender may be shown by use of different words, as “tlangval,” a young man; “nula,” a maiden. This system is only employed when speaking of human beings, by adding suffixes—“pa” and “chal” for males, “nu” and “pui” for females; thus “fa pa,” son; “fa nu,” daughter; “she chal,” bull metna; “she pui,” cow metna. “Chal” and “pui” are restricted to full-grown animals. All men’s names end in “a,” all women’s in “i.” Some words are the same in both genders—“u,” elder brother or sister; “nao shen,” a baby; “naupang,” child. “I” is the feminine termination in Manipuri also. [114]

Number.—The plural terminations are “te,” “ho,” and “zong”; sometimes these are combined or duplicated.

These terminations are omitted when the number can be otherwise inferred.

When a suffix is added to a noun to denote case, the plural suffix follows the case suffix.

Zawng-a-te Monkey into s an they lo became changa. changed.

Kan in-a-te Our house into s an they lo-lut-a. entered.

Case.—Nouns are not inflected. The agent is denoted by the suffix “in.”

The same suffix is used to distinguish the instrument.

“In” is therefore exactly equivalent to “na” used in Manipuri to distinguish the agent or instrument.

The other cases can only be inferred from the position of the words.

The object immediately precedes the transitive verb governing it.

The indirect object precedes the direct.

Hnena (to) is sometimes used to give greater clearness.

The thing possessed immediately follows the possessor.

The following construction is sometimes used:—

[115]

The other cases are rendered by suffixes.

Ka My in house a in daraw. put. Ka My in a house tang from in laraw. bring. Aizawl Aijal a to kalraw. go.

Adjectives follow the words they qualify, but are not inflected in any way.

When a noun is used as an adjective it precedes the noun it qualifies, as, “Lung in,” stone house.

Adjectives are compared thus

Suaka Suaka Nela Nela ai- than in a he chhā k zawk. stronger.
Suaka is stronger than Nela.

When demonstrative adjectives are compared, “ai-in” is combined with them, thus:—

He This sakor horse he here saw that ai than sawn there ashang zawk. is taller.
This horse is taller than that.
“Saw saw ai-in” being replaced by “Saw-ai sawn.”

When no object of comparison is mentioned “ai-in” is omitted.

Nangma Your lo jhum azao extensive zawk. more.
Your jhum is more extensive.

The superlative is formed thus:—

Lalzong Chiefs zinga among Khuma Khuma a he vin bad tempered ber. most.
Khuma is the most bad-tempered of all the chiefs.

Khuma Khuma lalzong chiefs ai-in than a he vin ill-tempered ber. more.

Khuma Khuma lalzong chiefs a of a he vin ill-tempered ber. most.

Khuma Khuma a he vin ill-tempered ber. most.
Khuma is the most ill-tempered. [116]

The numerals are very simple:—

11 = “shom leh pa khat,” 12 = “shom leh pa hnih,” and so on to 20 = “shom hnih”; then “shom hnih leh pa khat” &c., to “shom thum” = 30, “shom li” = 40, “shom nga” = 50, and so on to “za” = 100, “za leh pa khat” = 101, and so on to “shang” = 1000.

“Shing” = 10,000 and “nuai” for 1,000,000 are hardly ever used; 8,975 = “shang riat, leh za kua leh shom sari leh pa nga.”

It will be seen that the real numerals are “khat,” “hnih,” “thum,” &c., pa being equivalent to unit. It is usually omitted when animals or things are mentioned, but retained when speaking of human beings.

With numbers above ten the name of the thing enumerated if a monosyllable, is often repeated. Thus:—

Ni Days shom hnih twenty leh and ni days nga. five.

Ordinals are formed by adding “na” to the cardinals, thus:—

In Enter shom the na tenth lutrawh. house.

But—

Ni Day thum three ni day a on lo-kalraw. come.

Numeral adjectives are formed thus:—

Voi Times nga, five, voi times shom ten leh and voi times khat. one,
eleven times. [117]

Demonstrative adjectives are:—

They are generally repeated, thus:—

Khu That sava bird khu down there kadu I e. want.

Khi That zawng monkey khi up there a he liane. big is.

When a noun qualified by one of these adjectives is an agent, the agent suffix “in” is combined with the second part of the adjective thus:—

The personal pronouns have several forms, which are the same for both genders.

The second person is “nangma” and “nangmani”; the third “ama,” “anmani.”

The possessive of the second person, when used as nominative of verbs, has a curious irregular form “i” in the singular and “in” in the plural.

The pronominal particles “ka” (I), “i” (thou), “a” (he), “kan” (we), “in” (you), “an” (they) must be used with verbs in addition to the pronouns, thus:—

[118]

The particle can never be omitted, whereas the true pronoun is generally left out except when required for emphasis.

Reflexive action is denoted in several ways.

The particle “in” is prefixed to the verb in all cases. The following are a few examples:—

Relative Pronouns are:—

Lekha Letter i you ziak wrote kha that a it tha good e. is.

The pronouns are sometimes omitted, the idea being conveyed by the use of relative participles or verbal nouns.

I Your lekha letter ziak written a it tha good e is.
The letter you wrote is good.

Interrogative Pronouns are:—

They are used thus:—

Tu-in-a nge (house inWhose =) i you riak? = stay

Tu ar nge (fowlWhose) = i you lei? buy? Tu-in-nge Who vel hit che? you?

Tu-nge Whom did i you vel? = hit? [119]

Tu and Tu-maw are only used thus:—

A He lo has kal come Tu-Maw? or Tu? = Who?

Eng-nge What i you duh? want? Khoi-i lekha buh nge (bookwhich) i you duh? = want?

Which book do you want?

Eng tui nge (waterWhat) = i you choi? draw?

The particle “a” preceding an interrogative pronoun has a partitive force.

Verbs.

The same form is used for all persons and in singular and plural, the pronominal particles marking person and number.

Conditional Mood.

The future terminations are often used in a conditional sense.

Subjunctive Mood.

The following forms are peculiar and appear to me of foreign [120]origin. The pronominal prefixes are absent, the person and number being indicated by different forms.

The pluperfect tense is formed by inserting “ta.”

By inserting “ma” the meaning “although” or “even if” is given.

Imperative Mood.

The imperative has several forms:—

The second person plural is formed by adding “u” to the singular form.

Infinitive Mood.

The infinitive or verbal noun is the same as the root shoi = to say.

Ka I shoi say lai time in at } When I was saying.

A verbal noun can also be formed by the suffix “na.”

Ka My riak staying na in house. [121]

The suffixes “tur,” “tur-in,” “na-tur,” “nan,” “an,” “in,” denotes infinitive of purposes.

Tui Water in tur to drink ka I duh. want.

Chaw Rice lei tur to buy ka I nei lo have not. } I have nothing wherewith to buy rice.

The suffix “tu” changes the verb into noun of agency.

Participles: Shoia, shoi-ing = saying.

Negative.

There are two negative particles:—lo and shu.

The first is used except in the conditional and the imperative, when the latter is used.

The particles are placed after the root except in the past tense, when they follow the tense termination.

“Nem” and “nāng” are used as negative particles and intensify the meaning.

Interrogative Particles.

These are as a rule placed at the end of a sentence. They are “em” and “em ni.”

[122]

“Em ni” sometimes implies that the answer is expected in the same form as the question.

“Maw”—This particle is used when the person asked, instead of replying at once, repeats part of the question—a pernicious and vexatious habit much indulged in by the Lushais.

The Passive Voice.

The verb when used in the passive voice is pronounced slightly differently. The construction is as follows:—

Verbal Prefixes.

These are a very noticeable peculiarity. They are:—

Adverbs.

There is a peculiar series of adverbs in Lushei, which, besides denoting the manner in which a thing is done, also convey some idea of the appearance of the agent, thus:—

[123]

“Buk buk” shows that the chief is a big, heavy man and is walking slowly.

“Bak bak” similarly used would mean that the chief was medium-sized and walking slowly, whereas “bik bek” could only be used of a small person proceeding slowly.

There are over a hundred such adverbs in Lushei.

Interjections.

The most common are “Ie” = I say! “Khai” = Come! “Ku” = Ho! “Chei chei” denoting disapproval and surprise. There are certain interjections, such as “Karei, Karei!” = Alas! Alas! which are only used by women.

The Lushais are very fond of piling up adverbs to intensify the meaning:—

Ava How mak wonderful em very em very mai! very!

Ava How mak wonderful em very veleh! indeed!

Literal Translation of an Account of the Thimzing.

Hmān Former lai hian time in thim darkness a it lo-zing-a; collected; chutichuan then mi mankind zawn all zawn all an they in-khawm themselves collected mur mur (untranslatable adverb) chutichuan then zawng monkey hmul hair a it lo began lenga to grow an their hgum spine ends a they thak itched an they hiat scratched thin-a always zawng monkeys a into te (plural suffix) an they changa changed tin their lal te chiefs chu indeed va-pual horn-bill a into an they lo became changa changed mi people chhia poor e-raw on the other chu hand zawng monkey a te ngau-va into grey te monkeys an they lo became changa. changed. Tin Then sa flesh lu head ro dry nei had chuan those who an they tuah put on a fire thing wood ai-in than a it tha good zawh more a was chu-te-chuan therefore an they dam lived rei long thei could zawk more an they ti. say. Tin Then mei-ling embers [124] tlaivar watched all night lem-in more than others puan cloth tial striped shin in wearing sakeia tigers into an they changa changed thei may be tin then pitar old te hian women puanpui quilts an they sin-a were wearing sai elephants a into an they lo became changa. changed. [125]