The Lushei Kuki Clans 42

The Lushei Kuki Clans 42

Unnatural deaths ("thichhia") are considered unlucky, and the custom

regarding the disposal of the corpse in such cases is the same as among

the Lushais. Memorial stones are not generally put up by the Thados,

but are occasionally found among the Chhinchhuan, perhaps from their

proximity to the Lushais.

 

A man who has performed the Ai of a tiger is honoured with a special

memorial. Two posts, one some four feet long and the other about three,

carefully squared and with the four sides ornamented with transverse

notches, are placed in the ground some five or six feet apart. The

longer post terminates in a spike, on which are impaled several

oval-shaped pieces of wood, which indicate the number of animals

killed by the deceased. Between the posts and to one side a long pole

is planted leaning over between the posts, and from this hangs half a

dried gourd shell, convex side uppermost, from the rim of which hang

tassels of rough wooden beads, and from the centre hangs a piece of

wood 7 or 8 inches long, of which one end is forked and the other a

knob. This represents "thotche," a sort of rat found in the jungle and

said to be the master of the jungle. If this animal is burnt in the

jungle the "Thihla" of the place will be angry and punish the persons

responsible. Children eat the flesh of the thotche. The posts are

called "thingel" and remind one of the memorial posts of the Chins,

and the be-tasselled gourd is a sign among those people that the

owner of the house before which it is displayed has killed a man.

 

A woman who has performed the Buh Ai is also honoured with a special

memorial, consisting of an upright stone some three feet high, in

front of which are placed three others supporting a flat stone. A

space of about four square yards in front is enclosed by a line of

stones set on edge, the whole of the interior being planted with

small stones, which are supposed to show the number of baskets of

rice reaped on the occasion of the Ai. The feasts connected with

the cultivation known by the Lushais as "Kut" are not practised,

but when the rice is well up the whole community goes to the jhums,

dancing and singing, and beating drums and gongs. In the jhums they

work vigorously in perfect silence for a considerable time and then

burst forth into song and dance, and eat their fill of rice washed down

with zu. There is another feast connected with the crops called "Hun,"

which takes place when the rice is about a foot high. Each household

prepares two pots of zu, one for the husband and one for the wife,

and a post called "shekhon" is planted before each house. This post

has two horizontal arms projecting, one near the top and one near

the ground, the upper one being the longer. These are perforated,

and three reeds are passed through the holes. Each household kills

a white cock at the foot of the shekhon. The flesh is cooked in the

house and eaten by the householder alone. The "sherh" and bones are

hung on the shekhon. The zu in the householder's pot may only be drunk

by other householders, but that in the wife's pot is dispensed to

all comers. For five days after this feast no one but members of the

household may enter the house. Nothing out of the house may be given

away, and the householder must do no work, nor may he attend a funeral.

 

The series of feasts performed by the Lushais to attain the honours of

"Thangchhuah" is not customary among the Thados, though some informants

say that in olden days some such custom prevailed, and the "Chong"

feast, at which seven mithan and two of every other sort of domestic

animal had to be killed, is not performed now only because none can

afford the expense. It will be remembered that "Chong" is the name

of the first feast in the Thangchhuah series. Among the Haukip I am

told that a position equivalent to Thangchhuah is attained by thrice

celebrating the Ai of one of the following--tiger, bear, elephant,

or hornbill.

 

 

 

Thado Folk Tales.

 

Benglama is the equivalent of the Lushai Chhura, and there are many

tales about him which are common to both clans and in fact seem to

be known to almost all representatives of the Kuki-Lushai race. The

following is a translation of a portion of a tale written down in

Lushai for me, but told by a Thado. Benglama had visited a village and

got himself much disliked, and everyone was trying to catch him:--"Once

they made a ladder and cut the lower side partly through and made

a great quagmire underneath. Benglama climbed up it, it broke, and

he fell down into the mud. Then a tiger came up. 'My friend, if you

help me out you may eat me,' said Benglama. Then the tiger pulled him

out. Then the tiger--'I will eat you up,' he said. Benglama--'I will

just go and wash myself clean,' he said. 'Presently I will eat you

up,' he said again. Benglama--'I will go and ease myself,' he said,

'otherwise you will dislike my dung,' he said. Where he went to ease

himself he cut a cane. The tiger--'Why do you do that?' he asked. Then

Benglama--'It is going to blow and rain like anything, therefore

I am going to tie myself to the stump of a tree,' he said. Then

the tiger--'If that is so, tie me up first,' he said. He tied him

up. Then he (Benglama) also put a mallet, that all who passed by might

beat the tiger. Benglama went away. Then the wild-cat came along. The

tiger--'My friend, you and I are just alike; we two are friends, we are

brothers--undo me,' he said. He undid him. Then the wild-cat left him,

going into a pangolin's hole. Then just as he was going in, the tiger

caught him by the foot. 'What you have got hold of, that is not me, it

is a tree root,' he said. The tiger let him go, but remained watching

for him, but the wild-cat always slipped out at the other side, and

was always eating fowls by Benglama's house. The tiger--'My friend,

what is it you are eating?' he said. Then the wild-cat--'Oh, I am only

just eating the bones of my hand,' he said. The tiger was always eating

his paw, and it hurt very, very much indeed. Presently the wild-cat

went to the tiger and said to him, 'If you were to take a torch and

go near to Benglama's house you would be able to catch some fowls,'

he said. So the tiger went up, but Benglama saw him, and heated some

water. When it was very hot indeed, he poured it into a tui-um (bamboo

tube for holding water) and threw it over the tiger. The tiger said,

'My friend! My friend! I am dying, I am all burnt up,' he said. The

wild-cat--'There is a waterfall some way down stream; if you roll

down that you will be well,' he said. He rolled down and so he died."

 

 

 

How Benglama Tried to Climb to the Top of the Big "Bung" Tree.

 

"This Benglama--his wife was going to start for the jhum, and she

spoke thus to him. To her husband his wife said, 'Benglam, when the

sun shines through our doorway, cook the rice, do,' she said. 'When

the sun shines on the top of the bung tree in front of our house, then

clean the rice and tie up the goat,' she said, and she also left her

child with him. His wife then left him to go to the jhum. Then he,

according to his wife's orders, when the sun shone in the doorway

prepared to cook the rice. As often as he put the pot on the fire

it fell off again. Presently the sun shone on the top of the bung

tree. 'Did my wife say cook the food on the top of the bung tree?' he

said. Then saying, 'I will clean the rice,' he prepared to climb to

the top of the bung tree with the rice, mortar, and pounder, with the

goat and the basket of fowls; but he could not climb up, he kept on

falling down again. Just then his child, being hungry, began to cry

and cry. Then Benglama, saying, 'Is his fontanel hurting?' pricked

it with his hairpin. Then the child died. Benglama, saying, 'Has it

gone to sleep?' laid it down on the sleeping machan; he did not know

that it was dead. Then his wife came back from the jhum, and Benglama

just before had fallen from the bung tree and was nearly dead, and

lay on the sleeping platform groaning terribly. His wife said, 'Are

you ill?' and he--'Speak! Why, I can hardly speak, I have fallen from

the top of the bung tree and am nearly dead, don't you know?' he said

to her. Then she looked at her child; and his wife--'Our child here

is dead; how has it happened?' she said. Then Benglama--'Go on! it's

not dead, its head was hurting and I pricked it; it is just asleep,'

he said to her. Then his wife--'It is dead indeed; go and bury it,'

she said. Then Benglama wrapped it up in a mat and carried it over his

shoulder, and the body dropped out behind him, and he placed the mat

only in a cave, and on his way back he saw his child's body. 'Whose

child is this?' he said, and kicked it about with his feet."

 

 

 

The Story of Ngamboma and Khuptingi.

 

"Formerly Ngamboma and Khuptingi, before they were born, while in

their mothers' wombs, they loved each other. When the time for them to

be born came near their mothers' bellies pained them. Then if their

mothers put their bellies near to each other they got well. Then

the children were born. In the jhums when they were placed apart

in the jhum house while their mothers were at work they always got

together. When they grew bigger they loved each other, and Ngamboma

wanted to marry Khuptingi, but their fathers and mothers did not

think it wise. Then Ngamboma made an image of Khuptingi in beeswax

and tied it to a stump of a tree on the bank of the stream, and

whenever the water rose Khuptingi got ill and when it went down she

got better. Thus it went on for one year. One day the stream rose and

carried away Khuptingi's image, then Khuptingi died. They placed her

body in a dead-house. From the decaying matter which fell from her

body flowers sprang up, and Ngamboma watched them always. One day a

wild cat was going to take away those flowers, but Ngamboma caught

it and said, 'Why did you think to steal my flowers--I'll just kill

you?' he said. Then the wild cat--'Protector! Do not kill me; I am sent

by Khuptingi,' he said. Then Ngamboma--'Where is Khuptingi, then?' he

said. Then the wild cat--'If you catch hold of my tail we will both go

(to her),' he said. Then the wild cat towed him to the village in which

Khuptingi was in the sky, in Mi-thi-khua (the dead-people's-village),

and they arrived at Khuptingi's house and they slept there, and they

ate rice also together. When they slept together Khuptingi was only

bare bones, and Ngamboma said, 'What bones are these?' and he threw

them to the top of the wall and to the bottom of the wall (i.e., all

about the room). Then the next day Khuptingi--'I am not well,' she

said. Ngamboma--'What is the reason?' he said. The Khuptingi--'Last

night when I was sleeping near you you threw me to the top of the

wall and to the bottom of the wall; for that reason I am in pain,' she

said. Then their villagers said, 'Let us go and fish,' they said. They

went. The place where they caught fish--indeed it was not a stream,

it was a patch of bamboo. The dead called the bamboo leaves fish, and

they filled their baskets cram-full, but Ngamboma said to himself,

'They will stop the holes in the baskets with the leaves when they

come to the stream so that the fish may not fall out by accident,'

he said, and he stopped the holes (in his basket) with leaves. Then

they all returned to the village. Ngamboma, by diverting a stream,

caught a few fish and returned. When they reached their houses the

dead roasted the leaves which they called fish, but when Ngamboma