PART II

DOMESTIC LIFE

The Village—The “Morung”—The Head-Tree—The House—The Contents —Manufactures—Trade—Loans—Agriculture and the Ceremonies connected with it—Live-stock—Hunting—Fishing—Food—Drink— Medicine—Drugs—Games—Music.

[Position and defences.] With the exception of those situated on spurs running down from the great mass of Wokha Hill, a Lhota village is invariably built on the very top of a ridge. The two essentials of a site are that it must be easily defensible from a Naga point of view, and near a spring. Unlike the Sema, the Lhota rarely calls a village after its founder. An almost unique example is Mangya, which is said to have been founded by Mangyasang. More usually some peculiarity of the site, or incident connected with the village, gives it its name. Seleku is so called because many flying squirrels (selek) were found when the site was cleared. Niroyo is the place of a plant with red berries called niro. Lungsa (olung = stone, osa = platform) is so called from a flat-topped rock near the eastern entrance of the village. Okotso is said to mean the place where the pigs of Pangti were eaten by tigers (woko = pig, tso = eat). Villages captured by the Lhotas from the Aos, such as Yimbang, Akuk, Mekula, still retain their Ao names only slightly corrupted. Often a village retains the name of its parent village, with Yanthamo (“new village”) added, e.g. Are Yanthamo. To defend his village the Lhota used neither masonry walls like the Angami, nor hedges of living cane like the Konyak. The outer defence was a ditch cut across the ridge in a conveniently narrow place. The bottom and edge of this were studded with “panjis,” and it was crossed by a rough-hewn plank which was taken up at night, or in case of attack. The inner defence was a stout fence of sticks and bamboos, also bristling with “panjis.” This was carried right round the village except in places where the steepness of the ground gave adequate protection of itself. The door was of bamboo, studded with “panjis.” A few sticks are still stuck up along the line of the old fence every year at the Pikuchak “genna,” and whenever the village performs the Oyantsoa “genna.” Huge trees stand at the entrance to most Lhota villages. These were preserved to form a wind-screen for the village and to provide convenient look-out posts for sentries. War between Lhota villages was rare, and a powerful village surrounded by friends would regard defences as unnecessary. Similarly nowadays Tuensang, the most powerful village of the Changs, has no village fence. It is situated in the middle of a circle of friendly Chang villages. The warriors of Tuensang emerge from the circle to smite their foes, and then retire behind their friends again. Woe betide the friend who is so remiss as to let a party of avenging enemies into the circle.

A Lhota village is as a rule built along a ridge and has a main entrance at either end, with smaller paths running down to the fields from the sides of the village, and may contain anything from a dozen to 350 houses. The entrance to the World of the Dead being on Wokha Hill, the spirits of the dead must leave the village in that direction. The path leading towards Wokha Hill is accordingly known as etchhilan (“dead man’s road”). It is a curious sight, flanked with offerings to the dead (sochipen) and bamboo erections (nritangpeng) showing the prowess in war and hunting of those recently deceased.

[Communication.] From village to village there are narrow permanent paths along which men can only go in single file. As far as possible they keep along the very top of the ranges, for in the old days to use a path running under the shoulder of a hill would have been to risk having a spear thrown at you from above. Where the rock is soft sandstone, as it is near Tsori, toe-holes are cut in very steep ascents. Where the rock is hard a notched pole helps the traveller up the bad places. Small streams and ditches are bridged either by a single big tree or half a dozen stout poles laid side by side. Across broader streams, such as the Chebi, cane bridges are constructed. Long pieces of cane are stretched across from convenient trees on either bank. Between these a V-shaped cradle of cane is constructed, on which are laid long bamboos to form a foot-way. Long cane tie-ropes up and down stream prevent the bridge from swinging. The far-seeing Lhota often plants young trees of a suitable kind near the bridge-head trees to provide substitutes in case the old trees are washed away or die.

[The village.] A village usually consists of one long street with a line of houses on each side facing inwards. In the middle of the street are the “genna” stones standing opposite the houses of their owners. The somewhat limited space is further crowded with old fallen “genna” stones, graves and stacks of firewood. The villages are swarming with pigs, dogs and cattle, and the state of the street in wet weather can be better imagined than described, though some attempt is made to keep the actual doorways of the houses clean by scraping away the filth with shovels (mirothenga) made of the shoulder-blades of cattle or mithan. Sanitary arrangements are non-existent. Pigs and dogs do the necessary scavenging in the jungle surrounding the village. In every village one piece of jungle is strictly reserved for men and another for women. Not all villages consist of one long street. At places such as Yekhum, where the ground slopes awkwardly, the houses are built according to the lie of the land and are in broken lines. Similarly at Pangti, which is on a fairly broad, level site, there are several rather badly defined streets and the houses face in all directions.

Unlike the Angamis, the Lhotas do not keep their rice in their houses but in little thatched granaries (osung) of bamboo which are raised on posts above the ground and stand in neat little groups just outside the village. By this arrangement the food supply is generally saved even if the village be burnt. It is absolutely forbidden to spread clothes to dry on the roof of a granary. To do so would cause all the rice to go bad.

[The “Morung.”] Every village, except the very small ones, is divided into two or more “khels” (yankho). Sometimes, but by no means always, a little strip of open ground marks the division between “khel” and “khel.” In some villages these “khels” mark the divisions of clans. For instance, at Tsingaki there are two Kikung “khels” and one Nguli “khel.” But this is not common. Usually a “khel” appears to be nothing more than a convenient division of a village in which men of various clans live. Sometimes some feature of the site gives the “khel” its name, e.g. Hayili (“level”) khel in Akuk. Sometimes, as in the Wokhayankho (“Wokha men’s khel”) in Pangti, the first inhabitants have given a name to the “khel.” Usually a man lives and dies in the “khel” in which his forefathers lived and died before him. But he is perfectly free to go to another “khel” if he wants to. In every “khel” there is a common bachelors’ house or “morung” (champo), [68] a building which plays an important part in Lhota life. In it no woman must set her foot. At the champo raids were planned and discussed, and to it all heads taken were first brought. It is the sleeping-place of every Lhota boy from the time he first puts on his dao-holder till he marries, this rule being only relaxed in the case of boys who are allowed to remain at home and nurse an ailing and widowed mother, or when the champo falls into such a state of disrepair that it is no longer habitable. In the latter case boys are allowed to sleep in a separate room in their parents’ house. The champo usually stands at the end of, and facing down, the village street. Though not to be compared with the huge “morungs” of the Aos and Konyaks, it is the best architectural effort of which the Lhota is capable. In length a typical champo extends to forty feet, with a breadth of fifteen feet at the front and twelve feet at the back. The roof-tree is low in the middle, and curves up to gables at the front and back, that at the front being about sixteen feet high and that at the back a foot or so lower. Two specially fine bamboos are selected for the roof-tree. Part of the root is left on them and forms a horn-like projection at each end of the roof-tree. To each horn is fixed a little cross-piece, from which are hung tassel-like ornaments of reed-stem. The house is thatched with either thatching grass or the leaf of a small palm called oko (Levistonia assamica). The eaves reach almost to the ground and are brought forward in a half-circle in front to form a sort of verandah roof. In the middle of the space covered by this verandah roof stands the front post (humtse), which is elaborately carved with conventional representations of mithan heads and hornbills, and is carried through the roof up to the high gable. Behind it is another carved post (humtse tachungo). At the base of this post are the oha stones on which the good fortune of the champo depends, and to it used to be fastened a piece of skin from the first head taken after a new champo was built. This piece of skin is called humtse lama (“post warmer”). It was believed that it brought strength to the post and luck to the village. So strong was and is this belief, that as late as 1913 Tsingaki was punished for buying a piece of a head to be used as humtse lama from the independent Sema village of Satami. [69] At the back of the champo is another carved post.

The interior of a champo is not attractive. It is dark, dirty, smoky, stuffy and full of fleas. Yet a Lhota talks of his happy champo-days much as an Englishman talks of his schooldays. The floor is sometimes levelled earth and sometimes a bamboo platform raised about two feet above the ground on posts. The walls are of bamboo. There is a door at each end and a passage about two feet wide down the middle, in which fires are lit on cold nights, the smoke finding its way out as best it can in the absence of chimneys or windows. Where the floor is of bamboo four logs are laid down to form a square, the interior of which is filled in with earth rammed firmly down. On this the fire is made. On either side of the passage are cubicles with bamboo partitions, along the sides of which are sleeping benches of rough-hewn planks, or bamboo “machans.”

The time varies in different villages, but a champo is generally rebuilt every nine years. Almost invariably it falls in ruins before the time is up, but on no account must it be rebuilt till the due period has elapsed. The ceremonies connected with the rebuilding are interesting. The Puthi having announced that the rebuilding will take place in so many days, the boys of the champo collect bamboos, thatching grass, posts, tying-bark and whatever is needed. If a new carved post is required the best carver in the village gets to work on it. Every champo has land belonging to it. With the rice from this land a pig and a big cow are bought. These are killed on the day before the work of rebuilding is begun, and the carcases kept in a little hut specially built by the side of the champo. Next day is the first of five days’ emung, [70] which must be kept by the whole village. During these days no one may work in the fields, or weave cloth or make pots or bring into the village meat from a tiger’s kill. If a stranger enters the village he will probably be ill, and he cannot leave it till the five days’ emung are over. On this day the ceremonies begin. The Puthi formally begins the breaking down of the old champo, by pulling a piece of thatch off the roof and throwing it onto the ground. The Puthi’s attendant (Yenga) then removes the oha stones from in front of the humtse tachungo and lays them down a little distance from the champo. The roof is next carefully cut in two lengthways and laid on the ground in such a way that the two halves lean up against one another and form a shelter. Under this the boys of the champo must sleep that night. The posts are pulled out and laid on the ground, the whole building is dismantled and the site cleaned and re-levelled. The work of rebuilding is then begun. This again the Puthi initiates by a formal act. Beginning with the humtse tachungo he digs a little hole with the butt of his spear at the places where the three carved posts are to be set up, and pours or spits a little “rohi madhu” into each hole. The posts are then put up, new ones being substituted for any which may have decayed, and the champo is rebuilt as quickly as possible. Before leaving the work for the night the Puthi places a little ginger sprinkled with “madhu” on two crossed leaves at the foot of the humtse tachungo in order to keep away evil spirits, to whom ginger is particularly obnoxious. Thatching alone is left till next day, which is a day of less work and more play. Everyone feasts and puts on his best clothes, the men wearing full dancing dress. The first bunch of thatch having been put in place by the Puthi, the braves of the village dance, some on the ground and some on the roof of the “morung,” all singing the pangashari, a slow chant in which the war-like deeds of the village in the past are recounted. This song goes on all the time the thatch is being put on. A similar dance on the roof is performed by the Konyaks of Namsang and Tamlu when a “morung” is rebuilt. The thatching being finished the oha stones are replaced by the Yenga at the foot of the humtse tachungo. All the men, led by the Puthi, then slowly dance in a rough column of fours formation round the village, ho-hoing as they go. The chant is called yanungshari. The carcases of the pig and cow are taken out of the little hut in which they have been kept and cut up and distributed to all males, the Puthi receiving as his share half the head of the cow split longitudinally. A feature of this, the second day of the ceremonies, is the dog-killing which takes place. Every champo in the village kills a small dog. That belonging to the champo which is being rebuilt is carefully fattened up beforehand and tied up in front of the Puthi’s house. When the time comes to kill this dog an admiring throng gathers round while the oldest man of the “khel” sits by the dog and gives it a bone to keep it quiet. He then covers it with his cloth. Opposite to him stands the man reputed to be the finest warrior in the “khel,” and the following dialogue takes place. Warrior: “Move away.” Old man: “Will you take care?” Warrior: “I will take care.” Old man: “Do not hurt the dog.” Warrior: “I will kill it quickly.” At these words the old man uncovers the dog and moves aside. The warrior then attempts to split its skull exactly in two with one blow of his dao. When the dog falls about a dozen bucks and boys dance round and round it chanting, “He has killed it, he has killed it.” The head is cut off and brought to the champo, where it is carefully examined to see if it has been well and truly split. If the blow is found to have been a crooked one, the man who killed it is laughed at, told he is no warrior, but a boaster and a wind-bag. The head is then thrown away by the old man who attended at the killing. [71] In the evening a mock fight takes place between the young men and women of the village, both married and unmarried. The women pretend to try to push their way into the champo, while the young men keep them out. This mock fight is believed to increase the fertility of the women who take part in it. On the third day the slow dance round the village is repeated while the yanungshari is again sung. Most of the day is spent in feasting and drinking. On the fourth day the dance and chant are again repeated, but very few men put in an appearance, presumably because most of them have bad headaches after two days’ heavy drinking. The chief performers are a few hard-headed bucks and irrepressible small boys. On the fifth day, the last emung day, everyone rests.

[The Head-tree.] Perhaps the most conspicuous object in a Lhota village is the head-tree, mingetung, generally a magnificent specimen of ningetung (a tree of the Ficus family). It is usually situated on a mound well in the middle of the village. Against its branches were leant the long bamboos from which were hung the heads of enemies taken in war, and at its roots are kept the mysterious oha stones. These are counted and a fence is put round the tree whenever the oyantsoa “genna” is performed. The fortune of the village is regarded as in a way dependent on the mingetung. So sacred is it that in some villages it cannot be photographed. To break a twig off it would entail the performance of the oyantsoa “genna” (village renewing “genna”), which must also be performed if the mingetung dies or a branch falls. The place of the mingetung can never be changed. That at Lungla has been blown down. A small tree close by is being used instead till a new mingetung can be induced to grow on the old site, a vain hope, as the old site is a mound of shale without so much as a blade of grass on it. When a new village is founded a site is always selected on which there is a tree suitable for use as a mingetung. Under the new tree must be put a twig stolen from the mingetung of the parent village, though the parent village makes every effort to prevent this theft, as it entails the performance of the oyantsoa “genna” and is very likely to bring bad luck to the parent village. A curious belief is prevalent in Phiro. Skulls which had fallen from their strings were often picked up and jammed into interstices in the bole of the head-tree. At Phiro the mingetung is growing round and gradually covering these old skulls. This is regarded as a sign that the days of head-hunting are gone, never to return. [72]

[Water supply.] Springs issuing from the side of the hill below the village supply Lhotas with their water. Sometimes it is drawn from a muddy pool of unappetizing greenish water, but often there is a good flow into a basin dammed up with rough masonry. Small fish have been put into the Niroyo basin, and are carefully preserved in order that they may keep the water clear of scum. At almost all springs there is a small dam, and over it a low fence so that women who draw water stand below and not in the supply from which they draw. Unlike the Ao, the Lhota does not fancy water after the village have washed their feet in it. When the path from the fields does not happen to pass near a stream, water is often led to it in bamboo pipes from a long distance in order that men coming up after the day’s work may have a drink and a wash.

The Lhota House.

[Description.] A Lhota house varies in size from the wretched hovel of some old widow to the house of a rich man which may measure thirty feet long by eighteen feet broad—a limit far exceeded, however, by Aos, Semas and Angamis. To build a fine house as a show of wealth a Lhota would regard as great waste of money, and a Lhota likes to waste nothing. The walls are of bamboo and the roof of thatch (lishu) or palm-leaf (oko, Levistonia assamica). The front of all but the poorest houses is semicircular, with a door in the middle of the semicircle. The roof of the front semicircular room (mpongki) slopes up to the roof of the main building like the roof of the semicircular apse of a church. The upper roof-tree of the main building is carried forward over the roof of the mpongki with a slight upward slope, and is decorated with a little mock roof of thatch forming a sort of flying gable. In the middle of the mpongki is a bamboo post, which is carried through the roof of the apse to meet the projecting roof-tree of the main building. The interior of a Lhota house strikes a stranger as very cramped and uncomfortable. Unless one is very careful one bumps one’s head at every step. There is none of the spaciousness which one notices in the house of a rich Sema or Ao. Where the ground is suitable and bamboos are plentiful there is a machan (khantsung) for sitting out at the back. Sometimes the whole floor of the house is simply levelled earth, as in a Sema or Angami house. More usually, however, a step made of a short, thick log leads up from the mpongki to the doorway of the main building, the floor of which is raised above the ground on short posts and made of stout bamboo matting on a framework of whole bamboos, the matting in turn being covered with a layer of beaten earth to keep the draught from coming up from below. The floor of the sitting-out platform at the back is of bamboo without any covering of earth. The pattern of the floor of this platform varies according to whether the owner of the house has or has not dragged a stone. In the former case a mat of split bamboos interlaced in a simple chequer pattern is laid over a foundation of whole bamboos laid at right angles to the back wall of the house. In the latter case the place of the mat is taken by split bamboos laid at right angles to the bamboo foundation.

In a Lhota household each wife has a separate sleeping cubicle with a fireplace (nchü) in the middle. A well-to-do Lhota usually possesses three wives. The main building of his house therefore contains three sleeping cubicles and a little store-room (bhuritheng) at the back. The cubicle nearest the mpongki is called lhuhrui and is occupied by the third wife. The middle one is called olungo and is the abode of the chief wife. The back cubicle is called tachungo and is used by the second wife. Daughters sleep with their mother or, if she is dead, with the step-mother they like best. Servants, if there be any, or a bridegroom working for his bride in his father-in-law’s house sleep in the mpongki, either on mats on the floor or on the pounding bench. Guests sleep on mats on the floor of the store-room or in one of the cubicles.

A step up from the mpongki and a door close to the wall (usually the right-hand wall) lead into a narrow passage running the whole length of the house onto the platform at the back. On the left, assuming the passage to be on the right of the house, are the cubicles, the partitions of which stretch about two-thirds across the house, and up to the beams (khokang), the partitions between the mpongki and the first cubicle, and between the store-room and the sitting-out platform, going right up to the roof. The roof is supported on centre-posts (tirhupu), a bamboo one being placed in the middle of the mpongki, and a roughly-squared wooden one at each partition, and corner-posts (okinge) at the corners of the main building. Small posts in the walls help to support rafters (khirong). There is no chimney and the smoke finds its way out as best it can. The cubicles are lighted only by their fires.

[Construction.] When a Lhota builds a house he sets about it as follows. After the harvest is in he chooses a site and touches the ground with his hand. Then he goes off to a dreamer (hahang), of whom there are two or three in every village, with a small present of food, and asks him to dream that night and tell him in the morning if the site will be a lucky one. Dreams of springs, gourds, cucumbers, leaves, daos and spears, among other things, are good. To dream of digging, hair dyed scarlet and black thread forebodes death. If the dreamer has a vision of frogs, crabs, or tortoises the man who builds a house on the site which is being tested will be ill. If the dreamer reports visions of good omen (and he generally does, for a seer of evil dreams does not keep his clients long) the builder of the house calls his friends and relations together and work is begun. The positions of the corner-posts are first marked out, the length and breadth and diagonals being carefully measured. These posts are then put in, and after them the centre-posts and side-posts of the walls. If the house is to have a raised bamboo floor this is now made. Long bamboos or poles are then laid along the top of the side-posts of the walls, which are notched to receive them, and tied in position with yhandra bark. This bark is taken from the tree in long strips and dried in the sun for some days. The strips are twisted and wetted when required for use. On the top of the skeleton wall thus made are laid and tied bamboo cross-beams in pairs, each pair enclosing one of the wooden centre-posts, to which it is firmly tied. There is no cross-beam across the mpongki. The tops of the wooden centre-posts are then notched and a bamboo roof-tree (mhongki) is put in place. This stretches out far in front of the main building. At its junction with the centre-post standing between the mpongki and the first cubicle it is broken half through and carefully bent down, for the projecting end of it will eventually form the centre rafter of the semicircular roof of the mpongki. The rafters (khirong) are then put on. To enable them to be tied they must necessarily project and form a series of forks along the top of the roof-tree. On these forks is laid another roof-tree, which is not bent down like the first, but projects right out above the mpongki and is supported by the bamboo centre-post. Further to strengthen the rafters and prevent them lifting in a high wind, two other roof-trees are placed in position in the side forks on either side of the main roof-trees. These side roof-trees project beyond the main building and are bent down like the under one to form rafters for the mpongki. Partitions inside the house are now built and purlins (sütesüyo) are put on, all being so bent as to form purlins for the mpongki. The bottom pair of purlins are so made that the projecting ends can be bent to meet and be tied. This gives the outline of the semicircular apse of the mpongki. Posts are put in to which the bottom pair of purlins are tied in position. The projecting ends of roof-trees and other purlins are then brought down and tied to it, and the framework of the house is complete. Chequer pattern bamboo walls are quickly put up and the thatching is begun. Sections of thatching about six feet long are prepared as follows by men on the ground, and handed up to men on the roof, who put them in position. Thatch is carefully bent double over a thin bamboo about six feet long, care being taken to see that it forms a fringe without gaps. Then to keep the thatch in place two more bamboos of the same size and length are placed on either side of it about five inches below the first bamboo. These are firmly tied together through the thatch with strips of bamboo. With palm leaves the top bamboo is omitted, a fringe of overlapping palm leaves being held in place by the two thin bamboos, one on either side. These fringes are then tied on to the rafters and purlins, beginning at the eaves and working upwards so that each fringe overlaps the one below it. Finally, thatch is doubled over the upper roof-tree and fastened down with two long bamboo wind-ties. This last layer of thatch extends to the end of the upper roof-tree, forming a sort of flying gable where it projects over the mpongki. Light bamboo doors are then made. These are not attached to the door-posts in any way and can be lifted and laid aside. Two crossed bamboos are attached to the door by a loop of bark string and jammed behind the door-posts to keep it in place. A man who has dragged a stone more than once can decorate his roof with crossed bamboos representing mithan horns, but this is considered rather a snobbish display of wealth and the privilege is rarely taken advantage of. In some Southern Lhota villages the Puthis’ houses have the roof decorated with crossed bamboos of which the ends are split and splayed apart. This is a conventional representation of human hands, and the right to have the roofs of their houses ornamented in this way was formerly confined to men who had succeeded in bringing the fingers or toes of an enemy home from a raid. Rich Aos decorate their roofs in a similar way.

Before such a house can be occupied lurking evil spirits must of course be dealt with. For this the oldest of the men who helped to build the house is called in to act as tsandhramo epang (“driver away of evil spirits”). Having mixed ginger and “rohi madhu” in a new “chunga,” he sprinkles the inside of the house with the concoction and says, “We are going to stay here. You go away.” He then throws away the “chunga,” which must never be used for anything else. The old man then marks out the places for the hearth-stones, which the owner places in position. The owner then either lights a fire with a fire-stick or fetches fire from another house—any house will do. Matches are never used by Lhotas for ceremonial fire-making. A meal is now cooked and partaken of by the owner and his household and friends and the old man, who then takes the omens. He holds in his hands a small chicken called kichakro, which each member of the household touches with his or her left hand. This he strangles and disembowels, taking the omens from the entrails. After which he cuts it up and, holding eight pieces of meat in each hand, takes his seat with the male members of the household on his right and the female members on his left, and swings his hands backwards and forwards four times with an underhand bowling action, counting the number of swings aloud. The chicken is the old man’s fee, and he takes it away, returning in the morning to report whether he has had dreams of good or evil omen. A man may not act as tsandhramo epang for more than one household on the same day. The only restriction placed on occupants of a new house is one forbidding them to allow men from another village to enter the house till the earth which has been put on the bamboo floor is dry. A house of which the floor is mother earth may be entered by strangers as soon as the above ceremony has been performed.

[The contents of the house.] In the front room of the Lhota house are kept heavy articles, such as the pounding table (tsampo), liquor vat (ochen), and pigs’ feeding trough (wokochakpfu), the last being merely a log split in two and roughly hollowed. The pounding table is hewn from one piece of wood. In the top, which is slightly concave, one, two or three holes about six inches in diameter are burnt. In these the rice is pounded with heavy poles—an arduous occupation at which the daughters of the house spend a good deal of their time. The liquor vat consists of a log hollowed out from one end. Trees for this are carefully chosen, but a very large proportion of vats split or spring a leak before they are finished. On the wall of the front room are hung the feet of game which the owner of the house has killed. Spears are always kept stuck in the ground in front of the big wooden post. Along the sides of the inner cubicles are the small plank beds of the household. According to Lhota ideas a single thickness of cloth spread on the bed makes quite a soft enough mattress. Round the fire are little wooden stools about six inches high cut from one piece of wood. Floor space being limited in a Lhota house, most things are kept on rough bamboo shelves (theka) fixed to the beams of the house. Here are kept bundles of salt wrapped in leaves, cooking pots, baskets of yeast, traps, carrying baskets, and a thousand and one things. For cooking rice and meat Naga-made earthen pots are generally used, but for heating “madhu” shallow iron pots from the plains are popular. In them the brew can be stirred easily and without risk of an upset. Lhota houses contain very few drinking cups. Villages on the Sema border obtain bamboo cups from their neighbours, and nowadays cheap German enamel and aluminium ware are often used. But the true Lhota cup is a folded plantain leaf. It is really an astonishing sight to watch one’s hostess fold a piece of plantain leaf into a cup with one hand, while she talks hard to one guest and pours out “madhu” for another, either from a gourd or, more commonly, an old beer bottle. The usual type of dish is a shallow wooden one, with no legs, called opyi, many of which are made in Lungsa. Some households also use a wooden dish on a raised stand, rather like a dessert dish, called pyikhyu. In the bamboo matting of the walls are stuck daos, bamboo spoons and many odds and ends. The hollow bamboos in which water is carried up from the spring are kept leaning against the walls. Over the fire is suspended a bamboo platform about five feet square. This prevents sparks flying up to the roof and also serves as a convenient place on which to dry meat, and keep such pots and spoons and things as are in continual use. The little store-room at the back is comparatively free from smoke and in it ceremonial ornaments and spare cloths are hung.

Manufactures.

[Spinning.] Spinning, like dyeing and weaving, is performed entirely by women, and every Lhota woman is expected to weave the cloths of her husband and family. The thread is spun as follows. Home-grown cotton—the Lhotas are great cotton-growers—is cleaned of its seeds by being rolled on a flat stone with a small stick, used like a rolling-pin. This cleaning is a tedious process which generally falls to the lot of the old widows of the village, who eke out a scanty livelihood thereby. The cleaned cotton after being fluffed out by being flicked with the string of an instrument (loko) like a miniature bow is then gently rolled between the hands into “sausages” about nine inches long, after which it is ready to be spun into thread. The Lhota spindle (humtsi) is a very primitive affair and is similar to that of the Aos, Semas and Angamis. It consists of a thin penholder-shaped stick of hard wood about eight inches long, tapering to a fine point at the top, and about the thickness of a pencil at the thickest point near the bottom. Just above the thickest point is fixed a whorl made of soft black stone. This is made by rubbing on other stones till it is flat and round a piece of the soft stone used for the purpose. To make the hole in the middle a man holds it between his toes and twiddles a spear on it between his hands till the iron butt of the spear goes through. For spinning the tip of the spindle is wetted with the tongue. The spindle is then spun clock-wise with the right hand against the outside of the right thigh, the base of the spindle being kept in bounds by a conveniently cup-shaped piece of broken pottery covered with a bit of rag. The “sausage” of cotton is held in the left hand, and the end of it laid against the wetted tip of the spindle till it catches and the thread (oying) begins to form. When about a yard has been spun it is unwound from the tip of the spindle and rewound just above the stone whorl. The spindle is then worked as before, the cotton being held in the left hand, and thread accumulates above the whorl till the spindle becomes full, when it is wound off onto a wooden frame (kukung), shaped like a double T, and another spindleful is begun, and so on till the kukung is full. The thread is next hardened by being steeped for about five minutes in hot rice-water, after which the skeins (yingsak) are strung on a stick (phutsi) to dry. It is forbidden for a man to eat the boiled rice from which this rice-water has been taken. When the thread is required for weaving it is wound into a ball (yingtso), the woman who is sitting winding keeping the skein stretched round her knees.

[Dyeing.] Three colours, red, dark blue and light blue, are used by the Lhotas. Red thread is generally bought either from a shop or from an Ao village, for red dyeing is considered a risky occupation likely to bring on dysentery, and therefore only suitable for old women, who are of no value to the community. The industry, however, is carried on in a few Lhota villages, such as Changsü and Okotso. To make red dye the root of Rubia sikkimensis (karung) is pounded up, and another leaf (’ntawo) is pounded and added. The mixture is then boiled with water, and the thread put in while the water is boiling. The pot is then lifted off the fire and allowed to stand for three days, when the thread is taken out and dried.

Dark blue dye is made from the leaves of Strobilanthes flaccidi-folius (tchemo), pounded up and boiled with water. The thread is steeped in the mixture for half an hour and is then dried. This gives a colour like navy blue. To make light blue the leaves which have been already boiled and used for making dark blue dye are drained and dried and kept for a year. They are then broken up fine and mixed with cold water and the white ash of burnt bark, and put to stand till next day, when the thread is put in and left there for a day, or for two days if the dye is weak. It is then taken out and dried.

Dyeing is exclusively performed by women, who when they are so occupied must refrain from sexual intercourse and must not eat beef, goat’s flesh, dog’s flesh, dried fish, or that horrible vegetable known in Naga-Assamese as “stinking dal” (nyingtyingtsing), in fact any food with a strong smell. If any man were to dye a piece of thread he would never again have any luck in fishing or hunting. No one but the dyer must look on while thread is being dyed or the colour will be patchy and bad.

[Weaving.] Like the Semas and Aos, the Lhotas use a simple single-heddle tension loom (tsirochunglung) which is set up and operated as follows. A beam (tsikam) of bamboo about three feet long is securely fastened to the wall of the house or any other suitable firm support in a horizontal position and at a height of about two feet from the ground. On this are slipped two loops (tsisü) of bark string, in which is put the other bar (ncho) of the loom. The loops are set at a distance apart equal to the breadth of the piece of cloth to be woven. The lower bar (ncho) is notched at either end, to enable the weaving belt (ephi) to be attached to it. This belt is of woven cane or bamboo and is worn by the operator in the small of her back. By it, as she sits in front of the loom, she can keep the necessary tension on the warp. Both the beams being in position and a strain having been taken on the tsisü, each tsisü is crossed by the lower string being pulled up and the upper down and a thin stick of bamboo (yingyi) is put in position. This is naturally held firmly in place by the downward pressure of the lower strings and the upward pressure of the upper. Then, working towards the weaver, the lease-rod (chunglung) is put in close to the yingyi without crossing the strings. Below the lease-rod the sword (tsitam) is inserted, the strings being crossed as in the case of the yingyi. The twine which is to form the heddle-loops (ena) is now tied loosely onto the left end of the sword and laid along it. This twine is sometimes thick cotton thread and is sometimes made from the twisted bark of a creeper called enazü (Pineraria Thungbergiana). Two balls of thread are then taken and their loose ends twisted together and joined. One ball is held in the lap of the weaver while the other is passed over the ncho, under the tsitam and the ena which is lying along it, over the chunglung and under and then round over and under the yingyi and then over the tsikam, from whence it is brought straight back to the weaver under the loom. The second ball is then passed under the ncho and over the ena and under the tsitam and chunglung, and under and back over and under the yingyi and over the tsikam, and is brought back to the weaver under the loom. The process is repeated till all the warp (elomo) has been set. The result is that the ena forms a series of heddle-loops and the yingyi (the object of which is to shorten the upper side of the shed made by the lease-rod) is entirely encircled by each warp. Unless the loom be a very small one the weaver cannot reach the tsikam. She therefore generally has an assistant, who can be a man, to pass the warp thread over and under the tsikam. The two ends of the warp thread, when all has been set are turned back across the warp and woven into the material. The shuttle (yingshü), which is simply a thin piece of bamboo, is filled from the ball by being spun against the right thigh. This process and that of setting the warp are the only two in which a man may take part. Before weaving can begin the tsitam, a flat piece of hard wood, is turned on edge and the heddle (natyung) is slipped in alongside it so as to take up the heddle-loops formed by the ena. The tsitam is then removed. The object of substituting the sword for the heddle while the warp is being set is to ensure big enough heddle-loops. The tsisü are then removed, and the lease-rod is moved down close to the heddle thus giving the warp enough strain to keep the latter in place. In weaving the shuttle is shot backwards and forwards by hand, the heddle being raised every alternate pick. To increase the shed the sword is put in for each pick and turned edgeways. For the check pattern so common in women’s body-cloths both warp and weft (mpyo) are changed. For ornamentation little bits of red wool or yellow thread bought from a shop are worked in by hand as the weaving progresses, the warp being manipulated with a porcupine quill. Ordinarily the first weft-element passes alternately over and under a single warp-element, the second passing over those under which the first passed. A variety of pattern is that in which a single weft element passes alternately under and over pairs of warp elements. Another variety is that in which a single weft element passes under and over alternate pairs of warp elements and is returned under those under which it passed before, giving a pattern of interwoven pairs of warp and weft elements. Four pieces of cloth about one foot broad by five feet long go to make an ordinary man’s cloth. These strips are sewn together along their long sides. The Lhota needle (otyam) is simply a piece of bamboo sharpened at one end. To the head is attached by wax a piece of thread about two inches long known as otyam emhi (“needle-tail”) onto which the thread used for sewing is twisted. The broad stripes of light blue seen in so many Lhota cloths are invariably separate strips, sewn between two of the main strips of the cloth. A woman in the old days was forbidden to weave while her husband was absent on a raid, as it might cause him to trip over creepers in the jungle and fall into the hands of the enemy.

[Pottery.] Though foreign articles are being used more and more Lhotas still make most of their own pots. They are round, and slightly contracted at the top, with a curved rim by which they can be lifted off the fire. The only ornamentation used is a string pattern which is applied by patting the pot while still wet with a flat piece of wood covered with coarse string binding (khuzü). The clay is obtained from the banks of small streams. Two kinds are used, grey (linyikcho), which is the best, and red (linyocho), which is not so good. Only women can make pots, but the industry is not restricted to old women. The clay is broken up and kneaded on a stone with a little water. After being left over-night it is again moistened and kneaded. A round base is first made by hand. A wall of clay is built onto this and kneaded well onto the base with the left hand, the wall being supported on the outside by a small stick (phutamphen) held in the right hand. The pot is then shaped with the left hand and stick, and put to dry in the sun while other pots are being made.

After the pots have been dried in the house for three or four days a rough platform of wood is built on the ground outside the village. On this the pots are laid upside down and twigs and rubbish and rice straw piled on them and fired. In this kiln the pots are left till next morning, when they must be taken away before dawn. Certain precautions have to be observed. The woman making the pots must refrain from sexual intercourse, and must not eat any strong-smelling food, such as beef, goat’s flesh, dog’s flesh, dried fish or “stinking dal,” while she is so engaged, for to eat these things would cause the pots to “ring” badly. Anyone may watch the clay being kneaded, but no one must look on while the pot is being shaped, and only those helping the woman by carrying the pots or collecting fuel may be present at the burning. Were a man to see the pots being fired they would all crack. Nor must any dog come near, for should so much as a single hair of a dog touch a pot before it is finished the pot would have a hole at that very place.

[Iron-work.] The trade of a blacksmith is regarded by the Lhotas as a very unlucky one, and is restricted to the families members of which have been blacksmiths in the past. It is believed that no blacksmith lives long after he stops work. It is therefore not surprising that Lhota blacksmiths are few and far between. Nor is there much need for them. Villages near the plains buy all they require from Assamese smiths. The Rengmas are great blacksmiths and make all the weapons and implements required by the Southern Lhotas of the inner ranges, while the Northern Lhotas are supplied in a similar way by the Aos. The few Lhota blacksmiths there are use foreign tools bought from the plains, though an indigenous type of bellows (yongphophen) is still in use in places. This consists of two sections of bamboo set up perpendicularly side by side in a clay base. Into each of these is fitted a piston bound all over with hen’s feathers with their thin ends down. The downward stroke of the piston being against the “grain” of the feathers and the upward stroke with the “grain,” quite an efficient valvular action results. These pistons are worked alternately by an assistant who holds one in each hand. At the bottom of each piston-case is a hole, to which is attached a bamboo tube (zendro). These tubes emerge together at the fire. Only soft iron is used. This is obtained from the plains in the form of old tea-garden hoes. Formerly iron is said to have been found and worked at Khoro Ghat on the edge of the plains, by a village of the Thangwe clan according to one tradition, or by Shans or Burmese according to another. [73] The finished article is tempered by being dipped in water. This tempering is not meant to be final. The purchaser after using the dao, or whatever the article may be, for a time, heats it in a fire of the slow-burning bark of a certain tree (lepokriphu) and tempers it in salt and water, or bamboo-pickle and water to his taste.

So impregnated with misfortune is the whole trade of the blacksmith that no house is ever built on the site of an old forge, though the forge is allowed to be built inside the village. To bring a piece of dross from a forge into a house would cause all the inmates to fall ill. With this in mind a woman in Yemkha in 1919 left a piece of dross as a parting present when she ran away from her husband.

[Basket-work.] Living in a land where cane and bamboo are plentiful Lhotas are naturally expert basket-makers. Every man can make his own household baskets, but the manufacture of difficult things such as cane helmets (kiven) is generally left to experts. No woman is allowed to do any basket-work of any kind. For rough baskets strips of fresh bamboo are used. Cane is far more valuable and is reserved for articles which are meant to last a long time. It is left to season before being used. For rough work a chequer pattern is generally used, but for shields (otsung), cane helmets, and grain baskets a twill pattern is used. A pretty cross-warped pattern with wefts parallel to each other and passing over and under the same alternate warps is used for the outside of rain-shields (phuchyo), giving an open-work effect rather like the cane seat of a bedroom chair.

[Wood-work.] Rough planks are hacked out with a dao, a most wasteful method, as the whole thickness of a tree has to go to make each plank. Wooden dishes are cut out of single pieces of wood with an adze (ophü). They are then dried in the rough and rubbed smooth with stones and a curious rough-surfaced leaf called phukirongti (Clerodendrum serratum). Small “madhu” vats and very occasionally wooden shields are made in the same way. The posts of “morungs” (champo) are carved in relief with conventional representations of hornbills and mithan heads. The work is done with the dao and is as a rule very rough—far inferior to the carvings of Semas and Angamis, who in turn are much behind the Konyaks.

[Nets.] Nets like big landing-nets are made out of twisted strips of bark from the erhingya tree. They are fitted onto a circular frame to which a long handle is attached, and are used to land the stupefied fish which come to the top when a river is “poisoned.” They are made by men, never by women. The maker must remain chaste the previous night.

[Beads.] Among the few indigenous beads of the Naga Hills are the little black beads (eshe) made from the seeds of a species of wild plantain (sheyu) by the Lhotas. The industry is confined to women and exists chiefly among the Southern Lhotas. The seeds are tough, and both ends of each seed have to be laboriously chewed off. They are astringent, and “bead chewing” becomes a perfect habit with some women. The seeds are then pierced with a bamboo needle and strung, and the strings rolled on a flat stone till the beads become cylindrical and a good polish has been obtained. They are used for necklaces and look exceedingly well against a brown skin.

[Hides.] No process of tanning is known. Skins which are required for shields or any other purpose are merely cleaned and dried in the sun.

[Trade.] There is no tradition of any old form of currency, such as beads, or gongs, though thin key-shaped pieces of iron (chabli) such as the Aos used to use as currency are occasionally owned as heirlooms. Trade was apparently always carried on by barter in the days before the British coinage came into use. Even nowadays cotton which is taken down to the plains is almost invariably bartered for salt. A peculiar custom obtains when mithan, ivory armlets and boar’s tushes are bought and sold. These articles are particularly liable to be infected with evil fortune, certain marks being regarded as unlucky, and so on. An old man is therefore always employed as an intermediary (lantse or thantsowe) between the parties, and he finally settles the price when the bargaining has gone on long enough. Any ill luck is believed to attach itself to him as nominal buyer, rather than to the real buyer, who pays him a commission of Re. 1 for a mithan, eight annas for an ivory armlet and four annas for a pair of boar’s tushes. If anything intimately connected with the person, such as a cloth or a dao, be sold the seller retains a thread from the cloth or scrapes a tiny shaving off the handle of the dao, for were he to sell the whole of something which was almost part of himself the buyer might be able to exercise some magical influence over him. [74]

Loans.

The rate of interest on loans varies according to the nature of the thing lent. That on money is usually 50 per cent. simple interest, running for two years only. The interest on rice is four baskets a year for every six baskets borrowed. The interest has to be paid year by year till the principal has been returned. A debt of seed paddy must be paid before all other debts. The highest rate of interest is demanded for salt, for which 100 per cent. per annum compound interest has to be paid. The result is that loans of salt are promptly repaid.

Agriculture.

[Method of cultivation.] The Lhota is above all an agriculturist. Rarely does his ambition extend beyond a bumper crop. Service under Government has few attractions for him. Even if he takes a post he often throws it up after a year or two and says he would rather go back and live in his village and cultivate his land. Rice is the staple food of the tribe and is far and away the most important crop grown. The method of cultivation is that known as “jhuming.” A piece of jungle is cut and burnt, and the land cultivated for two years and then allowed to go back to jungle, under which it remains for a period varying from four to fifteen years. If a man is short of land he obviously has to cultivate each piece at shorter intervals. If he is the lord of wide acres the intervals are longer. The bigger the jungle is allowed to grow the more will mould accumulate and the thicker will be the deposit of ash when it is burnt. On an average among the Lhotas a piece of land is cultivated once in ten years. The whole village cultivates in one block, each man having his own piece of land. Isolated patches of cultivation would merely provide food for wild pig, monkeys and other pests. The jungle is cut about December. [75] (The times of agricultural operations vary a good deal according to the height and climate of the village concerned.) When the time comes to begin operations each man goes to his land and clears a little piece of jungle. Should he see a snake while so occupied he probably runs home as fast as his legs will carry him, for he would die were he to cultivate that piece of land. If no such evil omen occurs he cuts a stake, sets it up, cuts a notch in the side, puts a little earth from a worm-cast in the notch and goes home. This is regarded as a sort of oath that the owner proposes to clear that piece of jungle. He carefully notes what dreams he has that night. Sometimes he puts a twig from the jungle in question under his head. A bad dream would be enough to make him select another piece of land for that year. On the day when he puts up the stake he must not eat meat from a tiger’s kill or the flesh of dog, goat or cattle. His wife may cook his food for him, but he must eat separately from her in the morning, having remained chaste the night before. In clearing the jungle everyone takes part—men, women and children. A man helps his friends and they help him. The jungle is cleared from the bottom of the slope upwards. Bushes and saplings are cut close to the ground. Big trees are left standing, but thin branches are trimmed so that they shall not shade the crop. Usually a bunch of leaves is left growing at the top of big trees of which the other branches are pruned away. Lhotas attach no particular significance to this practice; but among the Aos it appears to be followed only by rich men. [76]

The jungle is left till March to dry, when it is all burnt on the same day. The man who is to start the fire is selected by cutting little chips from a piece of stick and watching how they fall—the ordinary Lhota way of taking omens. The man chosen first makes fire with a fire-stick and sets the dry jungle alight. Then everyone joins in and lights a long line of fire which sweeps uphill till it dies out in the green, uncut jungle at the top. Next day is emung. After that work begins in earnest. Stones and half-burnt logs are collected and little barriers (oliecho) are built along the hillsides to prevent the earth being washed away. Sometimes, as at Mangya, rough stone terrace walls are built. The fields are then dug over with a single-handed digger (chukchü), a small triangular iron blade fitted like an adze onto a bamboo handle. This preliminary hoeing is omitted by most Northern Lhota villages, who merely clear the land of rubbish before sowing. The fields which have already carried a crop the year before are now weeded, and the weeds gathered into heaps with a small bamboo rake (keya) and burnt.

[Sowing and the ceremonies connected with it.] Before anyone can sow his land certain ceremonies have to be performed. The first of these is Thruven, which is performed first by the Puthi, and after him in the course of the next few days by anyone who has dragged a stone or done the Etha ceremony. The procedure is as follows. The Puthi goes with his wife to the spot (Thruvenphen) just outside the village where tradition says this ceremony must be performed, generally near the opya—the post set up and speared at the Oyantsoa ceremony. He takes with him a twig of bamboo (a shoot growing up directly from the ground will not do), some chicken meat, boiled rice, “pita madhu,” ginger, a little seed-rice, and some seeds of a plant with a variegated leaf called orho. After pouring a little “madhu” on the ground, he arranges four pieces of the bamboo twig in the form of a square and puts a large leaf on the ground to his right and another on his left. On the right-hand leaf he puts ten little pieces, and on the left-hand leaf nine little pieces each of thatching grass, ginger, and chicken meat, and sprinkles a little seed-rice over each heap. The heaps are then tied up in the leaves and put in the square of bamboo twigs. Then close by he sows the orho seeds, making a miniature fence round them, the sticks of which are tied together at the top. This is a purely formal act, and it does not seem to matter in the least whether the orho seeds ever come up or not. Next morning the Puthi sows six seeds of rice in his garden plot. This formal sowing of rice is omitted by the other men who do the Thruven ceremony. Sexual intercourse is forbidden the night after this ceremony. When the last man has finished the village keeps one day’s emung. Anyone who has been married the previous winter, and everyone who has done all social “gennas” and dragged a stone performs a further ceremony before sowing his fields. Among the Northern Lhotas it is done as follows. In the morning one of the old women who acted as Ponyiratsen [77] at his wedding, or failing her any old man of his clan who has done no social “gennas,” comes to his house, and there ties eight nungyung leaves into two bundles of four. She then goes alone down the path leading to his fields, taking with her the nungyung leaves, two bamboo “chungas,” some rice, and a smouldering brand—for fire is a great protection against evil spirits. She faces towards the fields and lays a bundle of nungyung leaves on each side of the path, with a “chunga” on each bundle, and a little bit of smoking brand behind it. She then goes straight to her own home, taking with her the rice, which is her fee. Next day the owner goes down to the field with his friends and sows a little patch first, praying that his crop may be as close as elephant grass, as spreading as a rubber tree and free from weeds. He must refrain from sexual intercourse the night before he does this, and must neither take food nor speak to anyone in the morning till he has sown the first patch. Among the Southern Lhotas the old man or woman who does the ceremony on the first day puts on each side of the path a little heap of rice husks, a smouldering stick and two crossed yutso leaves, on which are put six pieces of burnt wood, six pieces of pork, a little boiled rice and a sprinkling of “madhu.” The owner of the field must not eat any of the pig which provides the pork used here. The formal act of sowing takes place next day as among the Northern Lhotas. Both on the night preceding and the night after the formal sowing sexual intercourse is forbidden among the Southern Lhotas, and in the morning before going to his fields the man must eat separately from his wife, though she may cook his food. Unlike his neighbours the Aos, the Lhota does not sow broadcast. With the digger (chukchü) held in his right hand he scratches a little hole. His left hand is full of seed-rice, of which he allows four or five grains to drop between the middle and index finger into the hole, which is filled in with a stroke of the digger. Both men and women sow. The day’s supply of seed-rice is carried in a basket on the left hip, the sowers working their way in a line from the bottom of the hill upwards. From the time the crop is sown till it ripens everyone is busy keeping his fields as free from weeds as possible. The weeder (ehe) is a strip of iron about nine inches long and one inch broad, bent into a semicircle and fixed to a short bamboo handle. [78] Every field is weeded at least twice, and often as many as six times—the oftener the better. The weeds are collected into heaps along the edges of the fields, or on stony patches where nothing will grow.

[The Motharatsen ceremony.] Among the Southern Lhotas a yearly ceremony called Motharatsen is performed by the Puthi and Yenga only when the crop is about half grown to prevent it being damaged by a small white grub (ora). On a certain day of which he has given previous notice the Puthi collects unhusked rice from the whole village and with some of it buys a pig. This he kills on the day of the ceremony, and going outside the village lays ten pieces of meat and ten pieces of ginger (osing) on crossed yutso leaves to his right, and nine pieces of meat and ginger on crossed yutso leaves to his left. The next day is emung. Though the Northern Lhotas still keep the emung the ceremony has fallen into abeyance among them. But the Southern Lhotas firmly believe in its efficacy. In 1918 the people of Yanthămo attributed the failure of their crops to the fact that a stranger from another village had entered the house of their Puthi after he had collected the subscription of rice and before he had performed the ceremony.

[The Amungkam ceremony.] When the rice comes into the ear ceremonies are again performed to ensure a good crop. The first ceremony is called Amungkam, and is performed by the Puthi and Yenga at the spot (amungkampen) a little way outside the village at which it was performed when the village was founded. The Puthi kills and cooks a little boar at his own house and goes with his Yenga to the amungkampen, taking with him a new cooking-pot, some of the boar’s meat, a small live pig, a hen, an egg, a fire-stick and some yutso leaves. The Puthi’s wife may accompany him, but the Yenga’s wife must stay behind. The Puthi makes a fire with the fire-stick, and near it lays out four bamboo twigs in the form of a square, in the middle of which he sets up the egg on end, flanked on either side with forty-two small pieces of meat on crossed yutso leaves. He then spears the live pig, praying to Rangsi, the deity of the crops, that they may be good. The pig is singed over the fire and cut up, the stomach and entrails being cooked in the new pot and eaten by the Puthi. The rest of the meat is divided up, one piece for every man in the village who has dragged a stone. The Puthi then strangles the chicken between the finger and thumb of his right hand and watches how the excreta fall as it struggles. If they are dry there will not be much rain and the crops will ripen well. If they are watery, storms will cause the crops to rot. The entrails are next taken out and examined. If they are full the crop will be good; if they are empty it will be poor. These are pushed back into the chicken, which is placed on the ground by the egg. The Puthi builds a little fence round the offering and hangs up the fire-stick on it, the pot being turned upside down and left on the ground. He then goes home and calls his friends to his house to drink “madhu” and partake of the pig he killed before leaving home. To each guest he offers a piece of pork and asks if he intends to do the Rangsikam ceremony, which is voluntary. To accept the pork means that the answer is in the affirmative. To refuse it means that the answer is in the negative. Early on the morning of the next day, which is emung, the villagers go and see if a wild cat or other animal has taken away the chicken which had been left at amungkampen. For it to be taken away forbodes ill for the village.

[The Rangsikam ceremony.] In Akuk no one may do the Rangsikam ceremony till after the Lanvung “genna,” but in other villages it may be done either before or after. The ceremony, which is also known as Likam, is performed as follows. The master of the house having slept apart from his wife the night before and eaten apart from her in the morning, though she may cook his food, kills a pig, and taking the cooked meat, “madhu,” boiled rice, a live hen and a new pot, goes down to his field-house—a shed built by each man in his fields where he can shelter from the rain or eat his mid-day meal with his wife and family. Having made a fire with a fire-stick inside the house he holds the hen by the wings with his right hand and walks round the outside of the house, swinging the hen and calling out the names of all the different varieties of rice he knows, whether he has sown them or not, and asking Rangsi to give him a good crop of them. He then strangles the chicken and takes the omens exactly as the Puthi does in the Amungkam ceremony. It is worth noting that this is the only occasion on which anything is killed in the field-house. Otherwise it is forbidden to bring raw meat of any kind into a field-house, or kill anything or have sexual intercourse in it. This is why the approaches to field-houses near paths are often “panjied” as a gentle reminder to passers-by that they must not run in to shelter from the rain if they are carrying raw meat. To resume, the hen is plucked, and cooked in the new pot. It is not eaten by the sacrificer, but is taken back to the village and given to an old man of his clan. The entrails are put in the pot, which is covered with a leaf and buried up to the rim behind the field-house. The little bamboo basket in which the hen was brought is stuck all over with its feathers and put, together with the fire-stick, beside the pot. All then wash their hands and the proceedings end with a meal from the provisions brought down. From the time when the preparation of the “madhu” for this ceremony is begun till the ceremony is over, sexual intercourse is forbidden and no member of the household must touch a corpse, meat from a tiger’s kill or the flesh of cattle, dogs or goats. On the day of the ceremony no man from another village may enter the house before the family go down to the field-house.

[The Lanvung ceremony.] In the damp climate of Assam jungle grows with extraordinary speed. The seventh day after the Amungkam emung is set aside for a united path-clearing (Lanvung) [79] by the whole village. During the six days preceding the Lanvung day nothing may be sold or killed in the village, and no one may touch a tiger’s kill, or perform any “genna” such as Potsokam or Etchhienya. On the seventh day the working companies each kill a big pig, every man subscribing his share of the price. The next day is a general picnic and the whole village turns out to clear the jungle from the paths. There is much feasting and drinking, and the bucks have jumping competitions and perform feats of strength. Among the Northern Lhotas as each branch path is cleared roof-shaped bamboo erections (vangkoseng), like double pen racks with bamboos laid on them in the place of pens, are set up at each fork, to the accompaniment of much ho-hoing. [80] The next day is emung.

[Protection of crops.] While the crop is ripening the owner is kept busy protecting it from the ravages of beasts and birds. Little look-outs (zengki) are built in the trees, well out of the reach of an elephant’s trunk. Wild animals are driven away by shouting or clapping two pieces of bamboo together, or blowing a bamboo trumpet (phupphu), or by building a big fire and feeding it with bamboos, which go off with a loud bang as each section is burst by the expanding hot air inside it. There is no hedge between field and field, but a rough fence is built round the whole block of village cultivation in order to keep out deer and cattle. In the old days low gaps were left in the fence here and there. Any deer which gave way to temptation and jumped through one of these gaps found itself impaled on “panjis.” Monkeys are most destructive and difficult to get rid of. One plan is to catch a small monkey, pierce its ears and ornament them with large lumps of cotton-wool. It is then let go and tries to rejoin the troop, who promptly turn tail at the sight of this strange apparition. The more the troop runs away the harder the little monkey tries to catch them, and the harder it tries to catch them, the faster they go. To drive away birds pieces of bamboo leaf-sheaf, sometimes cut into the rough outline of a hovering hawk, are tied from the end of a string to a pole and put to flutter in the breeze.

[The eating of first-fruits.] Just before the crop begins to ripen the ceremony of eating the first-fruits (Mshe etak) is performed, by the Puthi first, and after him by the other households in the village. From the day on which the Puthi announces that he is preparing his “madhu” to that on which the last man does the ceremony, no stranger may enter the Puthi’s house, and selling and killing of fowls and animals and the bringing of meat into the village are prohibited as they are before the Lanvung ceremony. On the day of the ceremony the Puthi kills a little boar outside his house. He does not eat this meat but distributes it to all the houses in the village in which there has been a death during the year. These portions are offered to the dead in the Etchhienya ceremony. After killing the pig he goes into his house accompanied by his Yenga and the second Puthi if there be one, and in the presence of his family strangles a hen, with a prayer to the Rangsi that there may be good crops, no accidents, no raids by enemies, and no prowling tigers. He then takes the omens from the excreta and entrails in the ordinary way. The Puthi’s wife, [81] or the Puthi himself if he be a widower, now goes and cuts the rice sown in the garden plot at the Thruven ceremony, no matter how unripe it may be. This the Puthi husks in silence. He may be helped by the assistant Puthi but by no one else. He puts a little of the grain on the sickle, on both his feet, against his forehead and finally on the hearth-stones. What is left he wraps up in a leaf and half boils. This he pretends, to eat, praying that squirrels, rats and birds may find the rice of the village crops bitter. It is then thrown away, but the hen is eaten. During the next day or two everyone goes down to his fields and brings up a little rice, with which he performs the same ceremony, except that no hen or pig is killed. A little of this rice is preserved and kept wrapped in a leaf at the bottom of the “chunga” or other receptacle in which the day’s supply of grain is put every morning. Such is the custom among the Northern Lhotas. Among the Southern Lhotas no rice is put on the sickle, feet, hearth, etc., but the rice is eaten by the whole family with crabs as a relish.

[Reaping ceremonies.] The crops ripen about August, those in the old fields being ready first, and as soon as Mshe etak is over everyone may cut his rice as soon as it is ready. On the day when he first goes down to cut his crop each man performs at his field-house a ceremony called Liritang in honour of the Rangsi. [82] He takes down with him “Rangsi’s load” (Rangsi’ha) containing a cooked pig’s head, a gourd of “madhu,” an egg, a little salt, some cooked rice and the leaves of sangsu (a long thin leaf), lhetyak (a hairy leaf), and orungu (a small leaf, white on the underside). Having arrived at his field-house and seen that all who are to help him that day have come, for no one may come once he has begun the ceremony—he lights a fire with a fire-stick, takes four blades of thatching grass from the roof and bends them double, and places six grains of rice on the threshold (likingko) of the field-house. He then cracks the egg over the six grains of rice and pours the contents into the leaf in which he wrapped it when he left his house. This leaf he ties to the post of the field-house, taking it home when he goes in the evening and either giving the contents to his children or eating them himself. He then lights the thatching grass at the fire, and holding the orungu, sangsu and lhetyak leaves with the thatching grass in his right hand, goes outside the house and waves them with a sweeping motion from left to right, the smoke from the thatching grass thus driving evil spirits away. He then says the following [83] traditional words:—

Orung-na ranga ranga phang (orungu, asking, asking remain). Lhetyak-na tyaka tyaka phang (lhetyak, sweeping, sweeping remain). Sangsu-na sangsu lithana, sangsu lithana oro tamtam chudechia (sangsu, sangsu, changing, changing with sangsu, coming in a stream pour out).

This is said to mean—for the words are not clearly understood by the Lhotas themselves: “Orungu leaves pray the Rangsi continually to give me a good crop; lhetyak leaves sweep the grain into my field-house, and sangsu leaves come one after the other and pour rice in a stream from your loads into my field-house.” The man then re-enters the house and sprinkles the floor with “madhu” from his gourd while he repeats the following words:—

“Satung rampeng Rangsi tchhüchi rhempi Rangsi, lipphu “Fish-trap hunter’s deity, water-side wanderer’s deity, hillside

liteng Rangsi, tsatso rüku mpito Rangsi company’s deity, hurt wounded men’s all deities

rencheli” come out of hiding.”

In other words he prays to all Rangsis belonging to men who are busy fishing or snaring birds by the pools or are hurt (i.e. all men who do no cultivation and so have no need of Rangsis), together will all the Rangsis of the hillside to come and help him. The “madhu” is then sprinkled along the threshold from end to end and the ceremony is at an end and reaping begins. At midday the owner and his helpers come back to the field house for a meal. The owner first undoes the pig’s head and puts salt on it. This can be eaten only by him and old people. If he happens to have an oha (luck-stone) in his house, no one but he can eat the pig’s head, or they will have a bad cough.

The crop is reaped with a small iron sickle (vekhuo) with a saw edge. Several stalks are grasped together with the left hand and cut a few inches below the ears. The unthreshed rice is stored in the field-house till everyone in the village has reaped his crop. Each man on the day when he first goes down to thresh again performs the Liritang ceremony as before, except that a fowl—either cock or hen—takes the place of the pig’s head. To thresh the grain the ears are heaped on mats outside the field-house, and after being well trampled are flicked against the right shin. [84] To winnow the grain one man pours it slowly from a basket held with both hands above his head while another fans it vigorously with a winnowing fan (saveng)—a bamboo mat with the two corners of one end drawn together, resulting in a thing rather like a sugar scoop in shape.

All that remains now is to carry up the grain as fast as possible. If the fields are a long way from the village, small temporary granaries (echengrangki) are built half-way in which the crop can be stored till the field-house, where wild pig and elephants are likely to do most damage, has been emptied. The grain is carried up in baskets (otyak), and every man, woman and child in the village helps, going down to the fields with torches in their hands long before dawn and coming up with the last load long after sunset. When the harvest is safely in each man goes down and rolls up the mats in his field-house, and takes them home, uttering as he does so a prayer to Phuri Rangsi (Mister Rangsi) to be favourable to him next year. Ahead of him lie a few weeks of well-earned rest till the time comes to cut the jungle for the next year’s crop.

[Varieties of rice.] Many varieties of rice, both white and red-grained, are sown by the Lhotas. For example, the principal kinds in Okotso are as follows:—White, amorü (very coarse), otsi emhuho (coarse), laza (medium), motiro (fine), wochio (with black husk), tambaktsok (with red husk): Red, oriepyo (coarse), kamtiya (fine), santungo (fine), moyo (fine), changkiu (fine), and mhumyandhro (very fine). No variety is used exclusively either for eating or for “madhu,” but the best kinds for “madhu” are santungo, otsi emhuho, oriepyo, kamtiya and moyo.

[Other crops.] Besides rice there are a number of subsidiary crops, generally sown along the edges of the fields or in patches among the rice. Maize (tsunghundhro) is sown along the boundaries of the fields, or among the chilies, never in large patches, which would only attract bears. Millet (Setaria italica, Lhota teni) is not an important crop as it is among the Semas and Changs, though a good deal is grown by some of the villages high up on the slopes of Wokha Hill. It is sown about February and cut about July. Giant millet (Sorghum vulgare, Lhota lichophuk) is sown mostly along the boundaries of fields, the time being about the same as that of millet. Job’s tears (omung) is also sown along the edges of fields at the same time as the rice and ripens about ten days or a fortnight later. Of taro (Colocasia antiquorum, Lhota mani) there are several varieties, the principal being tsampang (large, reddish root), vakhundro (small root) and loro (a very large root). This is generally planted along the little soil-barriers (oliecho) and scattered among the rice, but sometimes a patch of ground is devoted exclusively to it. Chilies (machi) are sown both in the garden patches and on low rich land at the bottom of the fields. The sowing takes place in March, and the plants begin to bear in July. It is a biennial, and in the second year begins to produce pods in May. If left for a third year there will be a few pods, but they are small and shrivelled. Cotton (khungko), after rice, is the most important Lhota crop. Sufficient is grown for home consumption and for a considerable export trade. It is sown in March on sunny slopes from which light jungle has been cleared, preferably with a rather gritty soil, and is ready for plucking in October. Whole fields are devoted exclusively to it, but it is an annual and is never sown twice running on the same ground. Several varieties of lentil (orho) are grown, all climbers. It is sown in March at the base of the trees left standing about the fields and plucked in October. “Stinking dal” (limcham or nyingtyingsing) only grows to the height of French beans. Whole fields are often given up to it, and it is often sown in rotation after cotton in February or March, and is ready about November. When the rice is sown, lufas (longchungo) are sown at the foot of trees in the field. The green gourd-like fruit is eaten in October, and in January the dry fruit is plucked, the stiff fibrous interior being used to clean pots, etc. Big and small gourds (shammo and zükhe) are grown for their hard shells, which are used as bottles. They are sown along the edges of fields in March and are ripe in October. A very insipid variety of water-melon (hmeliti) is sown scattered about among the rice and is ready from July on. Several varieties of thick, short cucumber (lishakti) are sown at the same time as the rice and ripen from July to November. Black sesame (Sesamum indicum, Lhota penching) and white oil seed (Perilla ocimoides, Lhota pentsü) are sown in March along the boundaries of the fields, the crop being ready in October or November. In cold villages whole fields of pentsü are grown. Tobacco (mukuyo) is extensively grown both in garden plots and in corners of fields set apart for it, as well as along the boundaries and scattered about among the rice. It is sown in March, and gives a continual crop of leaves from August on. Indigo (Strobilanthes flaccidifolius, Lhota tchemo) is grown to a certain extent in garden plots, but chiefly in damp, shady places in the jungle. Cuttings are put in in May and June, and are full grown by August of the next year. It is forbidden for men to touch this plant. The only garden vegetable grown is mustard (hangi), the leaves of which are eaten. A kind of giant taro (taktsü) is grown in gardens occasionally for its leaves, which are used to line the baskets in which “madhu” rice is set to stand. No part of the plant is ever eaten.

[Flowers.] The Lhota likes to have flowers handy to put in his ears, and grows a few varieties in his little garden. The chief kinds are wild canna (lentala), wild cock’s-comb (thropentera), marigold (yantantera), a small purple flower (kambentera), a pale yellow flower (narisen), and a red flower (echamtera).

[Fruit, etc.] A large number of oranges [85] (tsampen or khongkeng) and bitter oranges (tsampenyimo—“foolish orange”) are grown in the hot villages, a considerable trade in the former being carried on with the plains. The trees are grown from pips and are never manured or pruned or looked after in any way. Other fruit trees are the pomegranate (tsaramtiven), which is propagated by cuttings, and a huge plantain (echamyuti), which is horribly wooden and astringent and has to be cooked before it can be eaten even by a Lhota. The Christians of Okotso now grow a few tea bushes (cha). A very small number of betel nut palms (mma) are to be found in villages on the range nearest the plains. These villages do a big trade in “pan” leaves (lamo) with the plains, where hill “pan” fetches a good price. The “pan” vines are grown up trees in the jungle wherever the soil is suitable. They are not cultivated in any way, but every vine belongs to some individual though it is growing in unreclaimed jungle. The vines are propagated by means of cuttings.

Live-stock.

Mithan (Bos frontalis, Lhota tsiro) are regarded as a sign of wealth, but are no longer kept in large numbers by the Lhotas. They do a lot of damage to the crops, and as an investment are too risky to suit the taste of the careful Lhota, being very liable to rinderpest, an outbreak of which may kill off a whole herd. Further, they are practically only used for sacrificial purposes, for which cattle will do almost as well. Bulls which are marked in such a way that it would be unlucky to sacrifice them are sometimes killed for food, but cows are only eaten when they die of old age or disease. A pure-bred mithan is black, with white stockings and grey forehead, but many individuals are found marked with white or brown on the body. This appears to be due to the fact that the strain of mithan in the Naga Hills has become hopelessly contaminated by allowing them to interbreed with cattle. [86] An ordinary cow mated with a mithan bull produces a hybrid, which in turn is fertile when mated with a mithan. The result of this cross when again mated with a mithan produces an animal which in size and shape resembles a mithan, but which often shows its humble origin in its colouring. Animals of this unpure strain have contaminated the whole breed and any pair of mithan is liable to produce a throw-back. Though mithan calves are sometimes tied up outside the owner’s house till their legs get strong, the animals are generally allowed to run more or less wild in the jungle, the owner merely calling them and giving them salt occasionally. Beasts are occasionally marked by having their ears split. No bells are worn and no herdsman is kept to look after mithan or any kind of cattle. When a mithan calf is born the owner observes six days’ “genna” if it is a bull and five days’ if it is a cow. During those days no stranger from another village can enter his house and he must not eat meat from a tiger’s kill. This “genna” is observed for the calves of all cattle. In the case of mithan a necklace of six seeds of the sword-bean (khuro) is put on the neck of a bull calf, and one of five seeds on the neck of a cow calf, and after being worn for a few hours is taken off and hung up in the owner’s house. [87] A curious custom which appears to be common to all Nagas and applies to cattle of all kinds and often to pigs, is that by which a man will own half or one leg of an animal. Often a man prefers to distribute his risk by investing in a share in a number of mithan rather than own the whole of two or three beasts. The hybrid (tyangtso) of a mithan bull and ordinary cow is a black or very dark brown animal midway between its parents in size. They are allowed to run wild, but generally come and sleep in the village. Large numbers of ordinary cattle (mangsü) are bought in the plains. They are of the common Assamese breed, and miserable creatures as a rule. Some are kept for food and breeding, but usually they are taken straight through into the Ao and Sema country and sold. The Lhota never milks his cattle, simply because it is not the custom to do so, but he will drink milk if it is offered to him. There is a black and black-and-white breed of cattle known as süpi which the Lhotas regard as indigenous to their country. These carry a good deal more meat than the Assamese cattle. All cattle are allowed to run loose in the jungle, the owner only going to have a look at them every two or three days. Buffalo (juzü) which are past work are sometimes bought in the plains and brought up for food, but they are never bred by Lhotas and are useless for sacrificial purpose, as they are regarded as “stupid” beasts. Pigs (woko) swarm in Lhota villages and a man must be very poor indeed not to keep one or two. They are closely akin to the wild pig, with which they occasionally interbreed. When a sow farrows the owner observes five days’ “genna.” Every boar is castrated when it is only about two months old. This operation is generally performed with a sharp piece of bamboo by a man who is known to be skilled at it. Ashes having been put on the wound it is sewn up, and the little pig runs off apparently none the worse. The ears of all boars are clipped at the time when they are castrated. Little pigs are generally shut up in the mpongki at night, but when they get big they are allowed to roam about the village at will, only coming home for a meal of rice husks, “madhu” waste and taro once a day. A pig which is a bad wanderer and does not come home as it should is punished by having its ears pierced and a piece of string run through them and tied to the wall of the house. [88] Ordinarily dogs are the only animals to which names are given, but in some villages pigs are called after the person from whom they are bought, a custom which is generally viewed with no great favour by the seller if he gets to hear of it. Sometimes little pigs become household pets. I knew one in Seleku which spent most of its time playing with the children. It had its own special cloth spread for it by the fire and would sleep nowhere else. It was sold by its callous owner when it began to get big, and no doubt became pork shortly afterwards. Goats (nyanya) are kept in large numbers, white goats with long hair being particularly valuable. This hair is sold to be dyed red and used for all kinds of ornaments. The wretched animals used to be plucked alive, one goat giving several crops. But this has now been stopped and the hair is cut off. Goats being particularly attractive to leopards, they are kept at night in little houses (nyanyarangki) placed high up on poles in the village, a couple of notched posts forming a ladder up which they can scramble.

Except in the villages near the plains, where they are supplanted by Assamese curs, Lhota dogs are of the ordinary Naga type, black, with white chest and often one or more white paws. There are often brown and white markings on the body, and one type is entirely white with long hair. [89] The latter used to be plucked alive as white goats were and their hair used for ornaments. All dogs have names. Examples are Keri (“white paws,” lit. gauntlets), Pangri (“piebald”), Humthe (“soft-haired”), Phunyung (“red dog”), Taphuno (“stay-at-home,” lit. “hearth dog”), Mhakuk (“ditch-on-face,” i.e. with a depression over the nose), Kimung (“stay-in-the-house”), Yimo (“fool”), Okharo (“little one,” a pet name for the last-born child). The tails of all dogs are cut short, and the ears of male dogs are also clipped. The severed bits of tail are put in a cleft stick and stuck up in the house out of the way of rats, for were a rat to eat a tail the puppy to which it lately belonged would die. A Lhota feeds and treats all his dogs well, but is especially careful of his hunting dogs. They are never punished as other dogs are, the result being that they are hopelessly disobedient. It is quite common for the dogs to spoil a whole day’s hunting by going off on the wrong line and remaining deaf to their masters’ shouts. Hunting dogs are never eaten, and when one dies it is wrapped in a cloth and given decent burial outside the village. A Lhota strokes but never pats his dog. When he wants to make much of it he holds its head between his hands and allows it to lick his face, returning the compliment by dribbling onto its nose. When a bitch has puppies her owner observes five days’ “genna,” with the same restrictions as in the case of cattle and pigs. Cats (onyiro) are never kept, though they are occasionally bought in the plains and eaten.

The Lhota fowl (hono) much resembles the red jungle fowl (Gallus ferrugineus), with which it often interbreeds. Crosses with the kalij pheasant (Gennæus horsfieldi) too are by no means unknown. Fowls live on what they can pick up, but never seem to wander far from home. Old baskets are put up on shelves in the mpongki for hens to lay in and hatch their chickens out of the reach of rats. The owner must take the chickens down from the basket either after sunset or before sunrise. Before doing so he puts a piece of burnt wood (or in some villages five pieces of burnt wood) into the basket and says: “When you wander may you not be lost or fall a prey to wild cat or hawk.” The egg-shells are strung on a bit of bamboo and hung up in the house, it is said in order to keep a reckoning of the number of eggs hatched in the year. [90] Nowadays pigeons (vephu) are kept by a few people. Ducks are never kept, though large numbers are brought up from the plains for food.

Hunting.

Guns being comparatively scarce, the Lhota still hunts deer with dogs and spear as his forefathers did before him. Sambhur (sepu) are chiefly found in the flat river valleys, and when hunted invariably make for the water, which they cross and recross repeatedly. Tracks having shown that a sambhur is in a certain piece of jungle, the dogs are worked through it by their owner, who encourages them with a shout like a loud laugh. With him goes a thin line of spearmen to guard against a break back, while other spears wait at places where the quarry is likely to cross the stream. The dogs give tongue lustily enough as soon as they pick up the scent, so that the waiting spearmen can change their position according to the line which the deer seems to be taking. This goes on till the deer is either killed or gets clean away. The method of hunting serow (tsiyo) and barking deer (sanu) is the same, except that these animals are found in the little valleys running down the hills and are ambushed at the points where they try to get through into the next valley. The Lhota is a wonderful judge of the line a deer is going to take and can generally be relied upon to get his spear into a running target at twenty yards, so that these hunts are more often successful than unsuccessful. No hunting takes place on the day on which anyone has died in the village, not apparently from any idea of showing respect to the dead, but because it is regarded as a foregone conclusion that luck will be bad that day. If an animal killed is found to have died with its tongue hanging out of the left side of its mouth, hunting is probably stopped for the day, as it is believed that no more game will be killed; but to find the tongue hanging out of the right side of the mouth means that if the hunters go on they will rouse and kill another deer. Sityingo [91] is the jungle deity who owns all wild animals as a man owns domestic animals. If a hunting party kills a deer with a torn ear they will hunt no more that day, for have they not killed a deer whose ear Sityingo has snicked as a sign of ownership. The deer, however, can be eaten. Furthermore, the dogs must be purified before they can hunt again. Their owner orders his wife to prepare a little “madhu.” This she must do in silence. Next day no stranger from another village may enter his house, nor anyone who is doing a “genna” of any kind. The following day water is added to the “madhu” and the “madhu” rice given to the dogs to eat. The owner, taking them with him, goes with an old man to a spot outside the village, where the latter makes a fire with a fire-stick, and lifting the dogs in his hands passes them through the smoke, uttering as he does so the following prayer to Sityingo: “We have made new ‘madhu’ and new fire, and have purified the dogs. May all the deer wherever they be come to our village and be hunted by these dogs.” He then watches to see what insects come near the fire. If big insects come the dogs will get sambhur. If small insects come they will get barking deer.

Much though he enjoys the sport, the Lhota hunts primarily to get meat. The division of the spoil is therefore carefully regulated by custom, which is strictly adhered to. In the case of deer the first spear gets a hind-leg, second spear a fore-leg, and the owner of the dogs a hind-leg, the head, liver and heart, [92] the remaining fore-leg going to the oldest man of the hunting party. The rest of the meat is divided among the remaining spearmen, the older men getting slightly bigger shares than the younger. A spear which only hits the animal in the face or on the hock does not count. Were the thrower to claim a share of the meat on the strength of such a hit it is believed that either he or one of his family would die. From every deer killed Sityingo is given his share. This consists of six little bits of liver wrapped in one leaf and five little bits in another. These are eaten by the oldest man in the village of the clan of the owner of the dogs. Wild pig (oni or lipung) are occasionally hunted with dogs, but generally are only speared if a man happens to meet one. The same applies to bears (sivan). A wounded bear is not generally followed up till next day. It is then relentlessly tracked, alike over soft ground where every footprint is plain and over rocky slopes where nothing but a few bent leaves show which way it has gone, for a Lhota will pick up what, to European eyes, is a hardly perceptible trail as easily and quickly as he will follow an ordinary path. In the case of animals such as pig and bear killed without the aid of dogs, the first spear gets the head, hind-leg, fore-leg, liver and heart, and the second spear the other fore-leg and hind-leg. Remaining members of the party take the rest of the meat. There are no chiefs as there are among the Semas and Changs to get a share of the meat whether they join in the hunt or not. Dogs are also used to hunt porcupines (liso), an animal much sought after for its flesh, the skin of the back being especially esteemed. For a tiger (mharr) or leopard (mharrtero) hunt the whole male population of the village turns out with daos and shields and spears, and, in Moilang and its neighbours, wearing cane helmets. A rough circle is cleared round the piece of jungle in which the beast has been marked down, and a V-shaped palisade is built at the bottom. Outside this the old men wait with their spears ready poised, while the young men drive the animal downhill, cutting the jungle as they go. Any man who is charged falls with his shield over him, while a shower of spears distracts the tiger’s attention. Eventually if all goes well the tiger is driven into the palisading and speared by the old men waiting there. If a tiger happens to break a spear the shaft must either be left in the jungle or stuck in the ground under the head of the quarry when it is hung up after a successful hunt. If this is not done the owner will some day be killed by a tiger. The tiger’s head is cut off by a man who has done all social “gennas” and is a warrior of repute, and the paws by a man who belongs to a family a member of which has been killed by a tiger. This in a sense removes the curse from the family. [93] The head and paws are hung on a tree by the side of the path up to the village, and tsombhondhro leaves are stuffed in its mouth, some say to prevent it eating people in the Land of the Dead, and some say so that it may not be able to tell the dead what clan killed it. Under the head the hunters jab the ground with their spear butts till it is thickly covered with little marks. If the spirit (omon) of the tiger comes wandering round it will see these marks and refrain from troubling a village which possesses such a mighty army of warriors. The man who cut off the tiger’s head must not eat beef, pork, goat’s flesh, jungle birds, taro or any boiled relish, or have intercourse with his wife for twelve days. A similar prohibition for one day applies to the other men of the village.

Monkeys such as Pithecus brahma (otham) and Macacus assamensis (kirango) are shot with the crossbow (olo) and arrows, but a tailless ground-monkey (Macacus arctoides, Lhota mitham) is driven with great success, the day’s bag sometimes totalling thirty or forty. A troop which takes up its abode in a jungly gully flanked by cultivated fields is doomed. All the men of the village surround the jungle, and a tunnel (vaksap) is built of interlaced jungle and brushwood at the lower end, like a duck-decoy tunnel on a small scale. The monkeys are driven from the upper end, and keeping to the ground enter the tunnel. Finding no exit at the lower end they completely lose their heads and cling to one another and whimper till they are killed.

Before the making of pitfalls (soku) was forbidden by Government large numbers of elephants, deer and wild pig were killed by means of them. Elephant-pits were huge affairs, but the ordinary pitfall was about ten feet deep, with the bottom covered with big jagged rocks and “panjis,” so that any animal which fell in was likely both to have its legs broken and to be impaled. Many kinds of snares are used, mostly for small animals and birds, though a running noose (putha or ozo) used to be used by the Southern Lhotas for deer. The commonest trap is the triangular trap (tsiri), which is also used by Aos, Changs, Semas and Angamis. It is set in runs or at holes in fences and is most effective. It consists of a triangle of bamboo, the base of which is extended to form a bow. The side nearest the bow is double. Through this is passed a noose which is set in such a way that any animal or bird trying to get through the triangle releases the bow and is caught by the noose against the double side. Birds and small animals are also caught by running nooses (khükcha), platforms which release nooses when trodden on (chambo), and fall-traps (otyo). Are Yanthamo appears to be the only village which possesses a box-trap for leopards, though these contrivances are common among the Aos, from whom Are Yanthamo probably copied the one in question. It consists of a small low shed made of stout saplings securely tied in place and is divided into two compartments, in the hinder of which is put the bait, a live goat. The leopard enters, and in making for the goat treads on a little platform which releases a catch and drops a heavy wooden door behind it. Only once did a leopard enter the Are Yanthamo trap, and then it raged and roared in such an alarming way that the local Nimrods sat in the village and quaked, till it eventually managed to break its way out. A monkey is not an easy beast to snare, but a genius in Changbang invented a booby trap for monkeys which is said to have been very successful. He watched the line which monkeys took when chased off his fields. In their path he dug a pitfall, and over it at some height arranged a dry branch in such a way that monkeys would be sure to run along it in their flight. He cut this branch nearly through, so that the first monkey which used it snapped it off and came to an untimely end in the pitfall. Kabuis use a similar trap for monkeys. [94] Bird-lime (onyi) made of a mixture of the sap of the rubber tree (nitsütung) and Ficus religiosa (nitsotung) is extensively used. The two kinds of sap are boiled down in separate “chungas,” which are then split and the resulting rubber-like cakes extracted and cut into small pieces. The bits of thickened nitso sap are chewed to soften them and put in a broken potsherd. Then the pieces of nitsü juice are toasted over the fire on the end of an old umbrella stay and mixed with the nitso sap in the potsherd while they are hot. The resulting bird-lime is sometimes put on twigs stuck up by the side of pools at which birds come to drink, and sometimes put on twigs fixed on bushes and baited with a live cockroach impaled on a thorn. The use of decoy birds is unknown. An accurate knowledge of its habits enables a snarer to catch even the Great Indian Hornbill (rücheng) with bird-lime. This bird never flies straight to the berries on which it is going to feed, but always first perches on the thick part of the branch and then hops out towards the end, raising its wings slightly at each hop. Limed twigs are therefore put along the side of the branch at such an angle that they will touch the bird’s body as it raises its wings. At such a touch it shuts its wing down on the limed twig and is helpless.

A word on the taking of bees’ and hornets’ nests may find a place under this section. There are men who for some curious reason appear to be immune from stings, but the ordinary Lhota either smokes out the nest he wishes to take, or else kills all the occupants by taking a handful of the pounded skin of the chalmăgra fruit (hmhmti) and blowing the fumes into the hole. [95] Honey or the juice of the pounded leaves and bark of a certain tree (tsungnung) is often rubbed on the body as a protection against bee stings. A man who intends to take a bees’ or hornets’ nest must remain chaste the night before. Both the honey and grubs are eaten, and a species of large bee (tsakmen) which builds under overhanging rocks and branches makes good wax. The other principal species are a medium-sized bee (takrhi), a small bee with a negligible sting (ndhrontso) and a very small bee with a severe sting (lungtsak). Hornets’ nests, which are sought for for the fat, juicy grubs they contain, are not so easily taken. The nest of one species (tsaktsü) is underground and the tiny hole by which it is entered is hard to find. Anyone, therefore, who has a craving for tsaktsü grubs puts out a bit of bad meat as a bait and catches the first hornet which settles on it. He carefully extracts its sting and ties a bit of cotton-wool or a white feather to its legs and lets it go. Hampered by the feather, which can be seen from a good distance, it flies slowly towards home and can generally be followed if the jungle is not too thick. The nest once found a big fire is lighted over it at night when all the hornets have gone in and it is dug out. Another kind of hornet (chengkuku) with a red head and a fearful sting builds huge nests in the branches of trees. At night a fire is lighted underneath and burning straw held to the nest at the end of a bamboo. Any hornets which escape the burning straw drop into the fire and the nest can be safely taken.

Though Lhotas possess a wonderful sense of direction, it sometimes happens that a man out hunting loses his way in the jungle. Should this happen he cuts a stick and makes a few cuts in the bark to represent the pattern on a python’s skin. This stick he leaves on the ground and is then sure to be able to find his way without difficulty. The custom is connected with the belief that the python has a habit of leaving its saliva on leaves, and that anyone who touches one of these leaves by accident will go mad and lose his way. [96]

Fishing.

Lhotas are keen fishermen and expert swimmers. Fishing rights over any particular stretch of water are governed by custom, being held by the village or villages who exercised them in the past. The rights to “poison” in any particular pool are generally held jointly by two or more villages, while each village has the right to erect weirs in particular stretches of water. “Poisoning” is by far the most important method of fishing. Formerly the root of a small plant called notsü was much used. The juice of this kills every fish with which it comes in contact and its use has been prohibited by Government. The other so-called “poisons” only stupefy the fish. The commonest is the juice of a creeper (niro), which for some reason affects cat-fish (zyümo) even when it is too weak to stupefy other fish. On one occasion when the writer watched the fishing of a pool insufficient poison was used. Yet thirty-six huge cat-fish were caught, while the rest of the bag consisted of only about a dozen small fish. [97] Other “poisons” used are cheti (the berries of a tree with leaves rather like mahogany leaves: this poison is much used by the Aos, who call it arr), pitsü (a creeper with small leaves), opyak and achak (the bark of two species of trees), mwemti (little berries, chiefly used in small streams), and mozi (a creeper, weak and not much used). All the villages who have the right to “poison” in a certain pool agree to combine to do so on a certain day. On the night before the fishing is to take place sexual intercourse is forbidden, nor may anything be killed in the morning before going down to the water. The presence of women is absolutely forbidden when fishing is going on. Every man brings with him a bundle of creeper (assuming niro is being used). This is first thoroughly pounded on the bank to ensure that all the cells are broken. Trees are felled and placed on rough stone supports across the stream to serve as pounding benches for the final pounding, each village making its own line or lines of benches one above the other. As each bench is finished the men lay their half-pounded bundles of creeper on it. The braves then line up on the shore facing up stream, and all ho-ho together and brandish their daos. Then a rush is made for the benches and everyone pounds his bunch of creeper, dipping it in the water at intervals. All chant as they work, and the men on each line of benches pound more or less in time. Meanwhile old men are watching the pool below and a shout goes up when the first fish is seen to come floundering to the top. This is the signal for all to throw their bundles of creeper into the water and rush down to the pool. Some wait round the edge with long-handled landing nets, while others put a heavy stone into their “lengta” band and chase the fish at the bottom of the pool, slipping the stone out when they want to come to the top. The young bucks are like otters, and it is a common sight to see a man come up with a fish in his teeth and one in each hand. Cat-fish are great prizes. They are often heavier than a man and require all a man’s strength to drag to the top. Indeed it is by no means uncommon for a Lhota to struggle with one of these enormous fish at the bottom till he is exhausted and drowned. When anyone has landed a cat-fish he cuts it with his dao in such a way that he will be able to recognize it and claim his share when the catch is divided up. Small fish he strings on a slip of bamboo at his waist. Every man who lands a cat-fish gets a specially big cut from it, but the fish found in their stomachs are only eaten by old people. Otherwise the whole catch of a village is divided up among the members who came down to fish according to their age and importance. Whether they came down or not a share is given to the Puthi and anyone whose house has ever been “apotia.” [98]

Fish-traps are of various kinds. The most elaborate is that called osa, which is used on the Doyang and consists of a V-shaped bamboo weir pointing down-stream, with a long spout-like outlet, closed with stakes set closely together, and roofed at the end so that fish cannot jump out. The floor of the outlet is covered with bamboos laid lengthways, so that a fish once caught in the rush of water can get no grip to work up-stream, but is held by the current against the stakes at the bottom. Another type, also called osa, is used on smaller streams and consists of a semicircular weir of bamboo or piled-up stones, with gaps at intervals, each gap being blocked with a strong bamboo basket from which, if a fish is once swept in, it cannot escape against the stream. This kind of trap is particularly successful if otters fishing in the pool above drive the fish down, a curious parallel to the way in which Biscayan sardine fishers used to depend on porpoises to drive the shoals of sardines into their nets. A third type used on moderate-sized streams is called eyinga. This consists of a bamboo weir right across the river and another weir with a big opening in the middle about twenty yards lower down. Fish feeding their way up-stream in the evening pass through the gap, which is closed at night, shutting the fish in. A rough inner fence of bamboo is built along the lower weir, and the fish trying to jump over on their return down-stream are caught between the two fences. Fish weirs are in operation throughout the cold weather, till they are swept away by the first big flood. The task of building a weir is not one which can be entered upon without due precautions. For three days beforehand the builder must not speak to strangers and must refrain from sexual intercourse. On the last morning neither he nor any of the men who are to help him may kill anything, and the working party while engaged on their task may speak to each other but to no one else at all, whether of their own village or not. A man begins by helping his father, or one of his father’s friends, when he is a boy, and gradually grows up to be the owner or joint owner of a weir himself. Were a man who had never done so before to take it into his head to go down and build a fish-trap he would surely die. When he was sleeping near his trap at night the deity of the stream, the Water Master (Tchhüpfuo), would come along and look at the soles of his feet and see that they were not white like the soles of men who spend much time in the water. Then he would cause illness to come upon him so that he would die. In a few villages a small hand-trap (naching) is set in swampy pools for mud-fish. It consists of a small bamboo basket entered by an inverted funnel, so that a fish once in cannot find the way out. When the rivers are high fishing-rods (ngoko) made of bamboo are used, with a line made of twisted chütsung bark, the bark used for bow-strings. Hooks (mukhu) are either bought at a shop or made out of umbrella wire. It is unlucky to catch a kind of fish called süwo with the rod and line. Anyone who does so splits the fish in half lengthways and lays the two halves on the ground. He then goes home by a road other than the road by which he came. Were he to go home by the road he came he would meet and be killed by a tiger or leopard. This fish can be eaten without any precautions if it is caught in any other way. Where a stream is divided into two channels with an island in the middle, one channel is often blocked with a temporary weir and all the water diverted down the other. The fish in the blocked channel can then be caught by hand. When a stream is both cold and highly coloured the fish appear to lose their vitality and large numbers are caught by hand in holes and cracks. [99]

Food.

Rice is the staple food, but some relish, even if it be only jungle leaves boiled with chilies and salt, is always eaten with it. Meat is preferred if obtainable, but the Lhota will eat most things at a pinch. His diet includes the meat of all domestic animals and most wild animals and birds, fish, both fresh and dried, bee and hornet grubs, large spiders, a kind of beetle, white ants, cultivated plants and innumerable jungle leaves and berries. Certain things are forbidden, but villages near the plains are much less particular in this respect than those on the inner ranges. The general reason why certain animals and birds are not eaten is either that they are obviously unclean or because they are thought likely to impart their properties to the eater or to his children. Generally speaking old people can eat things which young people cannot, because it does not much matter what happens to them and in any case they will have no more children. Tigers and leopards are absolutely forbidden to all because they eat men. Leopard cats can be eaten by old people who no longer cultivate. Were a young man to eat it he would get poor crops. Wild dog if eaten causes a raging thirst. Phiyosao of Akuk ate only a little of the skin of one, but he had to leave the village school because he could never sit through a lesson without going out for a drink. Whoever eats or even kills an otter will never be able to get his fields to burn properly. [100] None but very old people may touch, much less eat, either the big or little flying squirrel (Petaurista yunnanensis and Pteromys aboniger). Anyone who does so will frequently be guilty of indecent behaviour with the opposite sex of his own clan. Several kinds of birds are forbidden. The Large Streaked Spiderhunter (Arachnothera magna) is only eaten by very old people “because it is such a very funny-looking bird, and has such a very long beak.” The local species of minivet (Pericrocotus brevirostris) is forbidden to all because the cocks are supposed to have got their scarlet markings from being splashed with human blood. The Velvet-fronted Blue Nuthatch (Sitta frontalis) goes about in little flocks and is such a confiding little bird that if one is killed the rest of the flock will wait near till they are killed too. Therefore if a man were to eat one, one death in his household would be followed by a series of deaths. A solitary old man or woman can, of course, eat this bird with impunity. The Whitecapped Redstart (Chimarrhornis leucocephalus) and Whiteheaded Babbler (Gampsorhynchus rufulus) are not eaten because they would cause the eater to become grey-headed. Parrots and crow-tits (Parodoxornis) are not eaten because of the shape of their beaks. The eater’s children would be everlastingly pinching their friends. Scimitar babblers (Pomatorhinus) if eaten would make the eater unable to remember his dreams and so deprive him of an important guide in life. The clan of anyone who ate a sun-bird (Æthopyga) would dwindle in numbers, for sun-birds used to be as big as fowls, but are now the smallest of all birds. Swiftlets and swallows are never still. The children of anyone who ate the flesh of these birds would be idle and always wanting to run about and play. The flesh of the Tree or House Sparrow is said to cause the itch. The Red-headed Trogon (Harpactes erythrocephalus) is not eaten because it is supposed to have got its brilliant colouring from human blood. Owlets (Scops) are not eaten owing to the extraordinary belief that they hatch their eggs by lying on their backs on them. The nightjar when disturbed only flies a short way and then settles on the ground again as if inviting one to follow. In this way it used to lead men on and on like a will-o’-the-wisp till they found themselves in an ambush and were killed. Therefore nightjars are not eaten. The Green Magpie (Cissa chinensis) is not eaten owing to a supposed habit of sitting on the bamboo erections built over graves. The loud laughing cry of the Himalayan White-crested Laughing Thrush (Garrulax leucolophas) is particularly sudden and startling. Were a man to eat its flesh he would become nervous in the jungle and would jump whenever a twig or a leaf dropped near him. The cry of the Long-tailed Broadbill (Psarisomus dalhousiæ) is a sign of rain, and whoever eats its flesh will always have bad weather when he goes to work in his fields. The hoopoe is such a curious bird that to eat it might mean disaster to the clan. Hawks are continually dropping excreta. Whoever ate one would spit continually. [101] The Rufous-bellied Hawk Eagle (Lophotriorchis kieneri) is forbidden to all but old people who expect to have no more children, for sores appear on the heads of the eater’s children. The two species of Racket-tailed Drongo (Dissemurus paradiseus and Bhringa remifer) are only eaten by old people, for as they have two very long conspicuous tail-feathers, so whoever ate their flesh would only have two children. The Indian Roller, commonly called the Blue Jay, is only eaten by old people, for the children of the eater would be as noisy as the bird itself. Ashy Swallow-Shrikes (Artamus fuscus) have a habit of sitting on branches in rows, each bird touching its neighbour. It is therefore eaten by none but very old people, for were any young man or woman to eat it he or she would never be able to sit alone, but would always want to go and sit cuddled up against one of the other sex, a habit full of possibilities of trouble. The flesh of the Great Indian Hornbill (Dichoceros bicornis) is absolutely forbidden to members of the Tompyaktserre phratry, and is very rarely eaten by members of other phratries. The bird has a croaking note, and were a man to whom its flesh is forbidden to eat it he would die of violent hiccoughs. Of reptiles the python is eaten by all in the villages near the plains, but elsewhere it is only eaten by old people. (Even villages near the plains never speak of it as “python” (ongam) when talking of it as an article of diet, but always call it by the politer name of sosiyo, “long meat.”) It is believed that black marks are liable to appear on the back of the eater, who will be semi-paralysed and only able to move his body slowly like a python. A Rephyim man called Lobenthang is supposed to have been affected in this way. Snakes other than the python are forbidden to all. Old women may eat the same things as old men, but there are a few kinds of meat which men may eat, but young and middle-aged women may not. These include serow, wild mithan, buffalo, bear, elephant, monkey, white-browed gibbon (“huluk”) and pangolin. Most of these are forbidden for no reason which is known now, [102] but gibbon is prohibited because these animals are supposed to have no more than a single young one once in nine years, and this peculiarity would assuredly pass to the eater. In some villages these prohibitions are only observed at the time of pregnancy.

Rice is invariably cooked separately from the meat or whatever is to be eaten with it. Meat and vegetables are boiled together with a lavish allowance of chilies and salt. Practically all food is boiled, though maize is roasted and eaten cold and plantains are roasted in their skins. A very favourite relish is bamboo pickle (dhrüchong) made of the hearts of young bamboo shoots pounded up with water and then dried, and boiled again when required. Though the Lhota prefers his food fresh he will eat both meat and fish which is pretty far gone. The flesh, entrails, blood and skin of an animal are eaten—in fact, practically everything except the hair. The men who went to France with the Naga Labour Corps thought our method of cleaning an animal and throwing away the offal most wasteful. Meat is stored by cutting it into small pieces and smoking it over the fire. In this way it will keep for a year.

Drink.

To deprive a Lhota of his “madhu” (soko) would be like depriving a British workman of both his beer and tea. The Lhota only drinks water if he can get nothing else. He drinks “madhu” both at meals and between meals. It is made as follows. Rice is boiled in the ordinary way and spread on a mat to cool. A cake of yeast (vamhe) is then broken up and well mixed with it, and the rice put to ferment in a basket lined with leaves. Next day the liquor begins to run off and is collected in a bamboo “chunga.” This is zutsü (Assamese “rohi”), the most potent form of “madhu.” When new it is the colour of rather greenish water. If kept it will remain good for five or six months, gradually increasing in strength and turning a pale sherry colour. It is this form of “madhu” which is always offered to guests of importance. In some villages of the Northern Lhotas the rice is not put into a basket to ferment, but into a vat, a hollow section of bamboo being placed upright in it to collect the zutsü, which is allowed to drain off for three days. The fermented rice from which the zutsü has been drained off is put into a “madhu-sieve” (cham) and hot or sometimes cold water is poured on to it. It is well kneaded, and the resulting brew is chemcho (Assamese “saka madhu”), the usual Lhota drink, and is of about the potency of light beer. Sometimes, especially among the Southern Lhotas, millet, giant millet or Job’s tears, or a mixture of maize and rice, is used instead of rice for making “madhu.” The yeast is made as follows. Rice is ground into flour and wetted and kneaded into dough. To this a little old yeast is added, and either the water from crushed phyushako bark, or from the crushed leaves of yimerhe or shingwo. The dough with this added is again well kneaded and divided into cakes about the size of penny buns. These dry of themselves and remain good for six or seven months.

The mild form of rice beer called in Assamese “pita madhu,” which is so popular among the Angamis, is hardly made by the Lhotas except at harvest. A little unhusked rice is kept damp until it sprouts, and is then dried. Husked rice is ground into flour and put into a vat with hot water. Next day when it has become cold the dried sprouted rice is ground up and mixed with a little yeast and added to the water. This ferments and is ready for drinking next day. It is drunk diluted with water and is called etha soko.

Medicine.

Illness is generally ascribed to evil spirits (tsandhramo) or the wandering of the patient’s soul (omon), who accordingly calls in a medicine man (ratsen) to extract from his body the bit of earth or wood or hair which the evil spirit put there, or causes a ceremony to be performed to call back his soul. A few medicines are, however, known. Fat pork is eaten as an aperient. For an emetic, chicken dung and rat dung are whipped up with water and the mixture is drunk—probably as effective an emetic as any known to science. For diarrhœa the remedies are roasted goat’s hoof or the gall of either cow or pig. For stomach-ache and intestinal worms an infusion of the bark of nshitong (Stereospernum chelonoides) is drunk. For indigestion and stomach troubles in general a little of the dried upper stomach of the porcupine is ground up and taken mixed with water, or a poultice of wild lemon leaves (tsoshü) or the crushed leaves of Maesa indica (tsandhrammozü, lit. “devil’s medicine”) is put over the affected part. For a cough the green pentagonal-shaped berries of the yenkuti tree are chewed, or a berry called riko is ground up and taken with “rohi madhu.” The yenkuti berry is also used as a tonic for weak children. Bat’s flesh is another tonic for children whose mothers cannot suckle them properly. For headache the leaf of the kizu tree (Bischoffia javanica) is laid on the forehead. For wounds the commonest remedy is a poultice of the ground-up bark of young shoots of the nungnung tree (Callicarpa arborea roxb., fam. Verbenaceæ). This has the effect of stopping bleeding. The mashed-up leaves of the pontengcho tree have the same effect. A bush called temphak (Rhus semialata) provides two medicines. The juice of the berries is a cure for stomach-ache, and a cooling lotion for use in cases of chicken pox and smallpox is prepared from the pounded leaves. The gall of the python is said to cure fever and intestinal troubles. A lotion made from Taraktogenos kurzii (hmhmti) bark is used to disinfect wounds. If maggots get into a wound in an animal a mash of pounded giant woodlouse (sharhi) is applied. Soot (live) is applied for skin diseases. For burns the ash of the leaves of the woropentung tree is applied. For dog-bite a whisker of the dog which bit the man is singed and put on the wound. Another example of the “hair of the dog” is the practice of drinking very hot “rohi madhu” as a remedy for drunkenness. To bring a boil to a head a little yeast (vamhe) is damped and rubbed over it. When ready it is lanced with a sharp splinter of bamboo. To get rid of warts a black-and-yellow beetle called potso tsiro (“god’s mithan”) is crushed on them. This causes them to fester and disappear. Goître is not common except in Are. When it occurs it is regarded as being due to drinking water from a spring near which plants with bulbous roots grow. The only known remedy is to run a red-hot umbrella wire through the goître, but this heroic measure is rarely employed. Most sufferers prefer the disease to the cure. For soreness of the eyes the leaves of the mongsentung are crushed up and held to the face so that the fumes reach the eye. For a sprain of any kind the great remedy is to draw blood. In the case of slight sprains the affected place is scratched and made to bleed and a leech put on to suck. For more serious sprains or contusions the swelling is cupped. The instrument used is a serow horn. The base is smoothed down so that it will lie closely against the skin, and a small hole is bored near the tip of the horn, round which a thin, slightly withered leaf is wrapped. The skin is pricked with a splinter of bamboo and the horn being placed in position the blood is sucked up into it by the hole near the top. The thin leaf allows the air to be sucked from the interior of the horn, but acts as an efficient valve when the operator stops to take breath. This method of cupping is used for sprains, bruises and dropsy, in fact in any case where it is desired to reduce a swelling. In cases of snake-bite the limb affected is first tightly bound above the bite. An infusion of the bark of a tree called nungatsung is rubbed on the legs as a protection against leech-bites.

Drugs.

Home-grown tobacco is cured by drying the leaves in the sun for three or four days. They are then stamped and rolled with the feet and again dried. The result is a coarse-smoking tobacco, very hot to the tongue and difficult to keep alight. Hence the popularity of cheap cigarettes among boys nowadays. The short pipe (tsintsanmukukhu) is simply a short section of bamboo with a small bamboo tube stuck in the side of it, a few lines being sometimes scratched on the bowl by way of ornamentation. The big pipe (murimukukhu) is a more elaborate affair, with a bowl cut out of soft black stone and set in a wooden base forming one piece with the stem, which is bored with a hot iron and ends in a small bamboo mouth-piece. From the bowl a small bamboo tube some four inches long runs down through the wooden base into a section of bamboo about five inches long. This is detachable and is kept full of water when the pipe is in action. All the smoke is drawn through the water, which becomes nothing but very dirty diluted nicotine. This foul liquid is carefully kept and sipped now and again as a pick-me-up. If he does not take his big pipe with him when he goes down to his fields a man will often take a little gourd of this stuff. Though they are in such close touch with the plains, opium eating is unknown in Lhota villages, a great contrast with the Aos and Konyaks. Betel nut is chewed with “pan” and lime in the villages near the plains. Lime used to be made locally from the ground-up shells of freshwater snails, but is now bought in the plains.

A remarkable number of suicides by poisoning take place among the Lhotas. For this the root of a common flowering plant called rhisa is used. This poison has a very strong taste and cannot be given to another man without his knowledge. Mixed with boiled rice it is used as rat poison. Tradition has it that men of standing used to be poisoned by their enemies through the agency of old women and children, and a man once told the writer that he was nearly poisoned in that way. But no authentic case of murder by poisoning appears ever to have been known. [103]

Games.

Wrestling and running are not much indulged in, but both high jump (untsongeyen) and long jump (eyenda) are popular. For the former the competitors run straight at the jump and clear it with their feet together, the “scissor” style of jumping being unknown. A good jumper can clear a reed the height of his own chin. For the long jump a flat stone is put in position to take off from, and the mark which counts is that made by the jumper’s feet in landing, whether he falls backwards or not. For the “jump-and-kick” (nshü) the jumper makes a standing jump and while in the air kicks with both feet together at some mark such as a leaf stuck on the end of an upright spear. It is quite common for a man to be able to kick a mark as high above his head as he can reach with his hand. A variety of this (choa­nshü) is one in which the jumper takes a standing jump from one leg and kicks the mark with the foot from which he jumped—a most difficult feat. Putting the weight (olungeyen) is done either with one hand in the English manner or with both hands from above the head.

A game called khurocho in which sides are taken is played with seeds like big flat chestnuts obtained from the large bean-like pods of the sword bean (khuro). These seeds are also the Lhota substitute for soap. The game is played at sowing time on coming back to the village in the evening. There are generally three or four players a side, though there may be as many as seven or eight. A number of seeds equal to the number of players on each side are set up on edge in a row with their edges touching. About three yards from them and parallel to them a line called epfu [104] is scratched on the ground. A yard behind epfu another line called esi is marked, and behind that at intervals of a yard two more lines called sichemo and sikao. Each side has an innings in turn, while the other side puts back the seeds which are knocked out of place. Each member of the side which is in throws at the line in turn with another seed and tries to knock away every seed in the line. The first throws from epfu, and if some member succeeds in knocking away all the seeds in the line, the side moves back to esi and throws from there, and so on to sikao, from which it works back to sichemo, esi and epfu and begins again, till it happens that no one in the side succeeds in knocking away all the seeds, when the side is out and the other side comes in. A seed is not counted as knocked out unless it is knocked at least a cubit from the line of seeds. The thrower may stride forward as far as he likes provided his back foot is on the line from which his side is throwing. This game appears to resemble that known among the Manipuris as kang. [105]

A game also called khurocho, but entirely different though the same seeds are used, is played in Yimpang and seems to be peculiar to that village. [106] The players are usually two a side. The seeds are laid in pairs one on the top of another in two converging lines meeting in an apex about two yards from the mark at which the spinner squats. The player holds a seed in the palm of his left hand and with a flick of his right forefinger spins it at the lines of seeds. The object is to knock as many of the top seeds off as possible. If a bottom seed of a pair is knocked out of place it counts as a miss. One side uses one line and the other the other for scoring their points, which is done with a bit of wood laid between the pairs to mark the number of top seeds knocked off by that side. It does not matter from which line they are knocked off, though the spinner must hit one or both of the two pairs nearest him, and not break the line in the middle. Whichever side is able to move its mark up from the bottom to the top of a line first wins.

Tops (phiro) shaped like double cones are made of hard wood. The string is wound round one cone and the end held in the fingers. The top is then thrown either underhand or overhand and the string jerked back while it is still in the air. The object is to knock over someone else’s top which is already spinning. Tops are spun at and just after sowing time. The Changs attach some special significance to top-spinning. All indulge in the sport at and just after sowing, but a man who spins a top at any other time is fined by his fellow-villagers. Lhotas inflict no fine, but the custom is that tops should be spun only at the time mentioned. Another game, if game it can be called, is a competition to see who can eat most fat pork and salt. Toys are unknown, though little boys carry miniature bamboo spears in imitation of their fathers, and little girls carry sticks or stones wrapped in a cloth on their backs as mother carries the baby. Notches are often cut on the edges of the beds in the champo, and little boys play a game (ekhirandhapen) in which they say, “bom, bom,” as they touch each notch, beginning at the end of the line, the object being to see how far you can get without taking a fresh breath.

Music.

Besides songs, of which some account has been given in the section on language, the operations of reaping, threshing and carrying up the crop are accompanied by simple wordless chants. Only the proper chant which tradition sanctions may be sung. Were a man to use the wrong one, the reaping chant while threshing, for instance, the listening spirits of the fields (Rangsi) would be displeased and refuse him their blessings.

Three varieties of musical instrument are used. Of these the simplest is the trumpet (phupphu), consisting merely of a bamboo tube about sixteen inches long, from which a bellowing noise can be produced. A more elaborate type of phupphu has a tube about four and a half feet long of light wood from which the pith has been removed, terminating in a trumpet-shaped piece of gourd. The Lhota has an accurate ear for music, and with this he can give wonderful imitations of bugle calls. But the instrument upon which he is most expert is the flute (philili or phiphili). This consists of a thin bamboo tube about forty inches long, open at both ends, with a small square mouthpiece cut about two inches from the thick end. [107] The player either sits down or lies on his back, with his right wrist resting on the ground. With the palm or one of the fingers of his left hand he stops up the broad end, and using the mouthpiece like that of a flute, produces a rather pleasing tootling tune by opening or closing the small end with the middle finger of his right hand. This instrument is a favourite one with young bucks, who lie on their backs in the “morung” and tootle the names of their lady-loves in simple tunes. In every village a particular combination of notes represents the name of each fair one, and strange though it may seem, no one listening ever seems to have any doubt as to what lady’s fame is being celebrated.

Daily Life.

The family get up before dawn, the wife being the first to blow up the fire, set the pot on to boil and open the door. After a meal all go down to the fields, taking with them “madhu,” cold rice and some cooked meat or vegetables. This the family eat while they take a short rest in the middle of the day in the field-house. The evening meal is eaten when they come back from the fields. After that it is soon time for bed. When the harvest is in there is less work, and men go away on short trading tours, or make up hunting parties, while the women stay at home and weave and gossip.