Part 1
CASTES AND TRIBES OF SOUTHERN INDIA
By
EDGAR THURSTON, C.I.E.,
Superintendent, Madras Government Museum; Correspondant Étranger, Société d'Anthropologie de Paris; Socio Corrispondante, Societa, Romana di Anthropologia.
Assisted by
K. Rangachari, M.A., of the Madras Government Museum.
Volume III--K
Government Press, Madras
1909.
CASTES AND TRIBES OF SOUTHERN INDIA.
VOLUME III.
K
Kabbera.--The Kabberas are a caste of Canarese fishermen and cultivators. "They are," Mr. W. Francis writes, [1] "grouped into two divisions, the Gaurimakkalu or sons of Gauri (Parvati) and the Gangimakkalu or sons of Ganga, the goddess of water, and they do not intermarry, but will dine together. Each has its bedagus (exogamous septs), and these seem to be different in the two sub-divisions. The Gaurimakkalu are scarce in Bellary, and belong chiefly to Mysore. They seem to be higher in the social scale (as such things are measured among Hindus) than the Gangimakkalu, as they employ Brahmans as priests instead of men of their own caste, burn their dead instead of burying them, hold annual ceremonies in memory of them, and prohibit the remarriage of widows. The Gangimakkalu were apparently engaged originally in all the pursuits connected with water, such as propelling boats, catching fish, and so forth, and they are especially numerous in villages along the banks of the Tungabhadra." Coracles are still used on various South Indian rivers, e.g., the Cauvery, Bhavani, and Tungabhadra. Tavernier, on his way to Golgonda, wrote that "the boats employed in crossing the river are like large baskets, covered outside with ox-hides, at the bottom of which some faggots are placed, upon which carpets are spread to put the baggage and goods upon, for fear they should get wet." Bishop Whitehead has recently [2] placed on record his experiences of coracles as a means of conveyance. "We embarked," he writes, "in a boat (at Hampi on the Tungabhadra) which exactly corresponds to my idea of the coracle of the ancient Britons. It consists of a very large, round wicker basket, about eight or nine feet in diameter, covered over with leather, and propelled by paddles. As a rule, it spins round and round, but the boatmen can keep it fairly straight, when exhorted to do so, as they were on this occasion. Some straw had been placed in the bottom of the coracle, and we were also allowed the luxury of chairs to sit upon, but it is safer to sit on the straw, as a chair in a coracle is generally in a state of unstable equilibrium. I remember once crossing a river in the Trichinopoly district in a coracle, to take a confirmation at a village on the other side. It was thought more suitable to the dignity of the occasion that I should sit upon a chair in the middle of the coracle, and I weakly consented to do so. All the villagers were assembled to meet us on the opposite bank; four policemen were drawn up as a guard of honour, and a brass band, brought from Tanjore, stood ready in the background. As we came to the shore, the villagers salaamed, the guard of honour saluted, the band struck up a tune faintly resembling 'See the conquering hero comes,' the coracle bumped heavily against the shelving bank, my chair tipped up, and I was deposited, heels up, on my back in the straw!... We were rowed for about two miles down the stream. The current was very swift, and there were rapids at frequent intervals. Darkness overtook us, and it was not altogether a pleasant sensation being whirled swiftly over the rapids in our frail-looking boat, with ugly rocks jutting out of the stream on either side. But the boatmen seemed to know the river perfectly, and were extraordinarily expert in steering the coracle with their paddles." The arrival in 1847 of the American Missionary, John Eddy Chandler at Madura, when the Vaigai river was in flood, has been described as follows. [3] "Coolies swimming the river brought bread and notes from the brethren and sisters in the city. At last, after three days of waiting, the new Missionaries safely reached the mission premises in Madura. Messrs. Rendall and Cherry managed to cross to them, and they all recrossed into the city by a large basket boat, eight or ten feet in diameter, with a bamboo pole tied across the top for them to hold on to. The outside was covered with leather. Ropes attached to all sides were held by a dozen coolies as they dragged it across, walking and swimming." In recent years, a coracle has been kept at the traveller's bungalow at Paikara on the Nilgiris for the use of anglers in the Paikara river.
"The Kabberas," Mr. Francis continues, "are at present engaged in a number of callings, and, perhaps in consequence, several occupational sub-divisions have arisen, the members of which are more often known by their occupational title than as either Gangimakkalu or Kabberas. The Barikes, for example, are a class of village servants who keep the village chavadi (caste meeting house) clean, look after the wants of officials halting in the village, and do other similar duties. The Jalakaras are washers of gold-dust; the Madderu are dyers, who use the root of the maddi (Morinda citrifolia) tree; and apparently (the point is one which I have not had time to clear up) the Besthas, who have often been treated as a separate caste, are really a sub-division of the Gangimakkalu, who were originally palanquin-bearers, but, now that these vehicles have gone out of fashion, are employed in divers other ways. The betrothal is formally evidenced by the partaking of betel-leaf in the girl's house, in the manner followed by the Kurubas. As among the Madigas, the marriage is not consummated for three months after its celebration. The caste follow the Kuruba ceremony of calling back the dead." Consummation is, as among the Kurubas and Madigas, postponed for three months, as it is considered unlucky to have three heads of a family in a household during the first year of marriage. By the delay, the birth of a child should take place only in the second year, so that, during the first year, there will be only two heads, husband and wife. In the ceremony of calling back the dead, referred to by Mr. Francis, a pot of water is worshipped in the house on the eleventh day after a funeral, and taken next morning to some lonely place, where it is emptied.
For the following note on the Kabberas of the Bellary district, I am indebted to Mr. Kothandram Naidu. The caste is sometimes called Ambiga. Breaches of caste rules and customs are enquired into by a panchayat presided over by a headman called Kattemaniavaru. If the fine inflicted on the offender is a heavy one, half goes to the headman, and half to the caste people, who spend it in drink. In serious cases, the offender has to be purified by shaving and drinking holy water (thirtam) given to him by the headman. Both infant and adult marriage are practiced. Sexual license previous to marriage is tolerated, but, before that takes place, the contracting couple have to pay a fine to the headman. At the marriage ceremony, the tali is tied on the bride's neck by a Brahman. Married women carry painted new pots with lights, bathe the bride and bridegroom, etc. Widows are remarried with a ceremonial called Udiki, which is performed at night in a temple by widows, one of whom ties the tali. No married men or women may be present, and music is not allowed. Divorce is said to be not permitted. In religion the Kabberas are Vaishnavites, and worship various village deities. The dead are buried. Cloths and food are offered to ancestors during the Dasara festival, excepting those who have died a violent death. Some unmarried girls are dedicated to the goddess Hulugamma as Basavis (dedicated prostitutes).
Concerning an agricultural ceremony in the Bellary district, in which the Kabberas take part, I gather that "on the first full-moon day in the month of Bhadrapada (September), the agricultural population celebrate a feast called Jokumara, to appease the rain-god. The Barikas (women), who are a sub-division of the Kabbera caste belonging to the Gaurimakkalu section, go round the town or village in which they live, with a basket on their heads containing margosa (Melia Azadirachta) leaves, flowers of various kinds, and holy ashes. They beg alms, especially of the cultivating classes (Kapus), and, in return for the alms bestowed (usually grain and food), they give some of the margosa leaves, flowers, and ashes. The Kapus, or cultivators, take the margosa leaves, flowers, and ashes to their fields, prepare cholum (Andropogon Sorghum) kanji, mix these with it, and sprinkle this kanji, or gruel, all round their fields. After this, the Kapu proceeds to the potter's kiln in the village or town, fetches ashes from it, and makes a figure of a human being. This figure is placed prominently in some convenient spot in the field, and is called Jokumara, or rain-god. It is supposed to have the power of bringing down the rain in proper time. The figure is sometimes small, and sometimes big." [4]
Kabbili.--Kabbili or Kabliga, recorded as a sub-division of Bestha, is probably a variant of Kabbera.
Kadacchil (knife-grinder or cutler).--A sub-division of Kollan.
Kadaiyan.--The name, Kadaiyan, meaning last or lowest, occurs as a sub-division of the Pallans. The Kadaiyans are described [5] as being lime (shell) gatherers and burners of Ramesvaram and the neighbourhood, from whose ranks the pearl-divers are in part recruited at the present day. On the coasts of Madura and Tinnevelly they are mainly Christians, and are said, like the Paravas, to have been converted through the work of St. Francis Xavier. [6]
Kadaperi.--A sub-division of Kannadiyan.
Kadavala (pots).--An exogamous sept of Padma Sale.
Kadi (blade of grass).--A gotra of Kurni.
Kadir.--The Kadirs or Kadans inhabit the Anaimalai or elephant hills, and the great mountain range which extends thence southward into Travancore. A night journey by rail to Coimbatore, and forty miles by road at the mercy of a typically obstinate jutka pony, which landed me in a dense patch of prickly-pear (Opuntia Dillenii), brought me to the foot of the hills at Sethumadai, where I came under the kindly hospitality of Mr. H. A. Gass, Conservator of Forests, to whom I am indebted for much information on forest and tribal matters gathered during our camp life at Mount Stuart, situated 2,350 feet above sea-level, in the midst of a dense bamboo jungle, and playfully named after Sir Mountstuart Grant Duff, who visited the spot during his quinquennium as Governor of Madras.
At Sethumadai I made the acquaintance of my first Kadir, not dressed, as I hoped, in a primitive garb of leaves, but wearing a coloured turban and the cast-off red coat of a British soldier, who had come down the hill to carry up my camp bath, which acted as an excellent umbrella, to protect him from the driving monsoon showers. Very glad was I of his services in helping to convey my clothed, and consequently helpless self, across the mountain torrents, swollen by a recent burst of monsoon rain.
The Kadir forest guards, of whom there are several in Government service, looked, except for their noses, very unjungle-like by contrast with their fellow-tribesmen, being smartly dressed in regulation Norfolk jacket, knickerbockers, pattis (leggings), buttons, and accoutrements.
On arrival at the forest depôt, with its comfortable bungalows and Kadir settlement, I was told by a native servant that his master was away, as an "elephant done tumble in a fit." My memory went back to the occasion many years ago, when, as a medical student, I took part in the autopsy of an elephant, which died in convulsions at the London Zoological Gardens. It transpired later in the day that a young and grown-up cow elephant had tumbled, not in a fit, but into a pit made with hands for the express purpose of catching elephants. The story has a philological significance, and illustrates the difficulty which the Tamulian experiences in dealing with the letter F. An incident is still cherished at Mount Stuart in connection with a sporting globe-trotter, who was accredited to the Conservator of Forests for the purpose of putting him on to "bison" (the gaur, Bos gaurus), and other big game. On arrival at the depôt, he was informed that his host had gone to see the "ellipence." Incapable of translating the pigeon-English of the native butler, and, concluding that a financial reckoning was being suggested, he ordered the servant to pay the baggage coolies their elli-pence, and send them away. To a crusted Anglo-Indian it is clear that ellipence could only mean elephants. Sir M. E. Grant Duff tells [7] the following story of a man, who was shooting on the Anaimalais. In his camp was an elephant, who, in the middle of the night, began to eat the thatch of the hut, in which he was sleeping. His servant in alarm rushed in and awoke him, saying "Elephant, Sahib, must, must (mad)." The sleeper, half-waking and rolling over, replied "Oh, bother the elephant. Tell him he mustn't."
The salient characteristics of the Kadirs may be briefly summed up as follows: short stature, dark skin, platyrhine. Men and women have the teeth chipped. Women wear a bamboo comb in the back-hair. Those whom I met spoke a Tamil patois, running up the scale in talking, and finishing, like a Suffolker, on a higher note than they commenced on. But I am told that some of them speak a mixture of debased Tamil and Malayalam. I am informed by Mr. Vincent that the Kadirs have a peculiar word Ali, denoting apparently a fellow or thing, which they apply as a suffix to names, e.g., Karaman Ali, black fellow; Mudi Ali, hairy fellow; Kutti Ali, man with a knife; Puv Ali, man with a flower. Among nicknames, the following occur: white mother, white flower, beauty, tiger, milk, virgin, love, breasts. The Kadirs are excellent mimics, and give a clever imitation of the mode of speech of the Muduvans, Malasars, and other hill tribes.
The Kadirs afford a typical example of happiness without culture. Unspoiled by education, the advancing wave of which has not yet engulfed them, they still retain many of their simple "manners and customs." Quite refreshing was it to hear the hearty shrieks of laughter of the nude curly-haired children, wholly illiterate, and happy in their ignorance, as they played at funerals, or indulged in the amusement of making mud pies, and scampered off to their huts on my appearance. The uncultured Kadir, living a hardy out-door life, and capable of appreciating to the full the enjoyment of an "apathetic rest" as perfect bliss, has, I am convinced, in many ways, the advantage over the poor under-fed student with a small-paid appointment under Government as the narrow goal to which the laborious passing of examination tests leads.
Living an isolated existence, confined within the thinly-populated jungle, where Nature furnishes the means of obtaining all the necessaries of life, the Kadir possesses little, if any, knowledge of cultivation, and objects to doing work with a mamuti, the instrument which serves the gardener in the triple capacity of spade, rake, and hoe. But armed with a keen-edged bill-hook he is immense. As Mr. O. H. Bensley says: [8] "The axiom that the less civilised men are, the more they are able to do every thing for themselves, is well illustrated by the hill-man, who is full of resource. Give him a simple bill-hook, and what wonders he will perform. He will build houses out of etâh, so neat and comfortable as to be positively luxurious. He will bridge a stream with canes and branches. He will make a raft out of bamboo, a carving knife out of etâh, a comb out of bamboo, a fishing-line out of fibre, and fire from dry wood. He will find food for you where you think you must starve, and show you the branch which, if cut, will give you drink. He will set traps for beasts and birds, which are more effective than some of the most elaborate products of machinery." A European, overtaken by night in the jungle, unable to light fire by friction or to climb trees to gather fruits, ignorant of the edible roots and berries, and afraid of wild beasts, would, in the absence of comforts, be quite as unhappy and ill-at-ease as a Kadir surrounded by plenty at an official dinner party.
At the forest depôt the Kadir settlement consists of neatly constructed huts, made of bamboo deftly split with a bill-hook in their long axis, thatched with leaves of the teak tree (Tectona grandis) and bamboo (Ochlandra travancorica), and divided off into verandah and compartments by means of bamboo partitions. But the Kadirs are essentially nomad in habit, living in small communities, and shifting from place to place in the jungle, whence they suddenly re-appear as casually as if they had only returned from a morning stroll instead of a long camping expedition. When wandering in the jungle, the Kadirs make a rough lean-to shed covered over with leaves, and keep a small fire burning through the night, to keep off bears, elephants, tigers, and leopards. They are, I am told, fond of dogs, which they keep chiefly as a protection against wild beasts at night. The camp fire is lighted by means of a flint and the floss of the silk-cotton tree (Bombax malabaricum), over which powdered charcoal has been rubbed. Like the Kurumbas, the Kadirs are not, in a general way, afraid of elephants, but are careful to get out of the way of a cow with young, or a solitary rover, which may mean mischief. On the day following my descent from Mount Stuart, an Odde cooly woman was killed on the ghat road by a solitary tusker. Familiarity with wild beasts, and comparative immunity from accident, have bred contempt for them, and the Kadirs will go where the European, fresh to elephant land, fears to tread, or conjures every creak of a bamboo into the approach of a charging tusker. As an example of pluck worthy of a place in Kipling's 'Jungle-book,' I may cite the case of a hill-man and his wife, who, overtaken by night in the jungle, decided to pass it on a rock. As they slept, a tiger carried off the woman. Hearing her shrieks, the sleeping man awoke, and followed in pursuit in the vain hope of saving his wife. Coming on the beast in possession of the mangled corpse, he killed it at close quarters with a spear. Yet he was wholly unconscious that he had performed an act of heroism worthy of the bronze cross 'for valour.'
The Kadirs carry loads strapped on the back over the shoulders by means of fibre, instead of on the head in the manner customary among coolies in the plains; and women on the march may be seen carrying the cooking utensils on their backs, and often have a child strapped on the top of their household goods. The dorsal position of the babies, huddled up in a dirty cloth, with the ends slung over the shoulders and held in the hands over the chest, at once caught my eye, as it is contrary to the usual native habit of straddling the infants across the loins as a saddle.
Mr. Vincent informs me that "when the planters first came to the hills, the Kadirs were found practically without clothes of any description, with very few ornaments, and looking very lean and emaciated. All this, however, changed with the advent of the European, as the Kadirs then got advances in hard cash, clothes, and grain, to induce them to work. For a few years they tried to work hard, but were failures, and now I do not suppose that a dozen men are employed on the estates on the hills. They would not touch manure owing to caste scruples; they could not learn to prune; and with a mamoti (spade) they always promptly proceeded to chop their feet about in their efforts to dig pits." The Kadirs have never claimed, like the Todas, and do not possess any land on the hills. But the Government has declared the absolute right of the hill tribes to collect all the minor forest produce, and to sell it to the Government through the medium of a contractor, whose tender has been previously accepted. The contractor pays for the produce in coin at a fair market rate, and the Kadirs barter the money so obtained for articles of food with contractors appointed by Government to supply them with their requirements at a fixed rate, which will leave a fair, but not exorbitant margin of profit to the vendor. The principal articles of minor forest produce of the Anaimalai hills are wax, honey, cardamoms, myrabolams, ginger, dammer, turmeric, deer horns, elephant tusks, and rattans. And of these, cardamoms, wax, honey, and rattans are the most important. Honey and wax are collected at all seasons, and cardamoms from September to November. The total value of the minor produce collected, in 1897-98, in the South Coimbatore division (which includes the Anaimalais) was Rs. 7,886. This sum was exceptionally high owing to a good cardamom crop. An average year would yield a revenue of Rs. 4,000-5,000, of which the Kadirs receive approximately 50 per cent. They work for the Forest Department on a system of short advances for a daily wage of 4 annas. And, at the present day, the interests of the Forest Department and planters, who have acquired land on the Anaimalais, both anxious to secure hill men for labour, have come into mild collision.
Some Kadirs are good trackers, and a few are good shikaris. A zoological friend, who had nicknamed his small child his "little shikari" (=little sportsman) was quite upset because I, hailing from India, did not recognise the word with his misplaced accent. One Kadir, named Viapoori Muppan, is still held in the memory of Europeans, who made a good living, in days gone by, by shooting tuskers, and had one arm blown off by the bursting of a gun. He is reputed to have been a much married man, greatly addicted to strong drinks, and to have flourished on the proceeds of his tusks. At the present day, if a Kadir finds tusks, he must declare the find as treasure-trove, and hand it over to Government, who rewards him at the rate of Rs. 15 to Rs. 25 per maund of 25 lb. according to the quality. Government makes a good profit on the transaction, as exceptionally good tusks have been known to sell for Rs. 5 per lb. If the find is not declared, and discovered, the possessor thereof is punished for theft according to the Act. By an elastic use of the word cattle, it is, for the purposes of the Madras Forest Act, made to include such a heterogeneous zoological collection of animals as elephants, sheep, pigs, goats, camels, buffaloes, horses--and asses. This classification recalls to mind the occasion on which the Flying-fox or Fox-bat was included in an official list of the insectivorous birds of the Presidency; and, further, a report on the wild animals of a certain district, which was triumphantly headed with the "wild tattu," the long-suffering, but pig-headed country pony.