*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 48706 *** THE MIKIRS FROM THE PAPERS OF THE LATE EDWARD STACK INDIAN CIVIL SERVICE SOMETIME DIRECTOR OF LAND RECORDS AND AGRICULTURE, AND SECRETARY TO THE CHIEF COMMISSIONER, ASSAM EDITED, ARRANGED, AND SUPPLEMENTED BY SIR CHARLES LYALL (Published under the orders of the Government of Eastern Bengal and Assam) ILLUSTRATED LONDON DAVID NUTT 57, 59, LONG ACRE 1908 PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, LONDON AND BECCLES. To M. R. L.-J. In Memoriam INTRODUCTORY NOTE. In 1882 Edward Stack, appointed the first Director of the newly-created Department of Land Records and Agriculture in Assam, entered upon his duties in that province, and applied himself with ardour to the study of its people. He had passed just ten years in the Indian Civil Service, which he joined in 1872 at the head of his year. These ten years had been fruitful in varied interest and activity: the strenuous life of a District and Settlement officer in the North-Western Provinces; secretariat employment in his own province and the Government of India; and, just before his translation to Assam, six months spent in travel in Persia. [1] Activity of mind and body, and keen interest in the people and speech of all the countries he lived in, were his strongest characteristics. During the cold season of 1882-83 he spent several months in moving up and down the Brahmaputra Valley, learning, observing, and noting. He acquired a working knowledge of Assamese with surprising rapidity; with this as his foundation and instrument, he attacked the multitude of tribal languages which he found impinging on the Aryan pale. To him more than to any one else, is due the honourable distinction of the Assam Province in the grammars, vocabularies, and phrase-books of nearly all the most important of its multitudinous varieties of Indo-Chinese speech, which have been drawn up by officers and others who have served there. In 1883 the Report on the Census of 1881 in Assam was published; and in this Report, mainly the work of the Chief Commissioner, Sir Charles Elliott, the chapter on Castes and Tribes was written by Edward Stack. Paragraphs 131-136 deal with the Mikirs, and much in these represents the result of his careful personal inquiries among them. His interest in this tribe gradually grew. In 1884 he was called to take up the work of Secretary to the Chief Commissioner, and while thus employed he occupied his leisure in studying Mikir. He became acquainted with a bright young Mikir lad, a convert of the American Baptist Mission at Nowgong, named Sardoka, to which he was accustomed to add the names of his sponsor at baptism, Perrin Kay. With the help of Mr. Neighbor's Vocabulary of English and Mikir, with illustrative sentences, [2] Stack and Sardoka worked together at the language, correcting and largely supplementing the material contained in their text-book. From this they went on to folk-tales, which were written down, with a careful attention to systematic orthography, by Stack from Sardoka's dictation, each day's work being provided with a series of notes elucidating every difficulty in it. Thus material gathered; and in the course of 1886 Stack had arranged, when relieved at the end of that year of the duties of Secretary by my return to Assam, to put together a complete account of the Mikirs and their language, fully illustrated (as his wont was) by ample variety of phrase and idiom, and a collection of stories in Mikir with commentary and vocabulary. But during the latter half of 1886 his health failed. Partly the moist climate of Assam, and partly, perhaps, unsuspected flaws of constitution, told upon his strong and active frame; and, after some months of gradually increasing weakness, he died at sea on the 12th January, 1887, aged 37, just before the vessel reached Adelaide, in South Australia, where he had planned to spend his furlough. A few months after his death his papers were sent to me at Shillong, and for some time I hoped, with Sardoka's help, to be able to carry out his purpose. But the steadily increasing pressure of other duties prevented this. I left Shillong on a long tour in November, 1887, and soon after my return in the spring of 1888 I was transferred to the post of Commissioner in the Assam Valley, eventually leaving the province in the autumn of 1889 for engrossing work elsewhere, never to return, except for a brief space as Chief Commissioner in 1894. It had become evident from an examination of the materials that to do what Stack had set before him involved much more labour than I could give. It was necessary to learn the language from the beginning, to construct grammar and dictionary, and to retrace the steps which he had trodden in his progress; and this with an aptitude and power of acquisition far inferior to his. Accordingly, on my departure from Assam, the papers were made over to others, with whom they remained until, on the organization under Dr. G. A. Grierson of the Linguistic Survey of Northern India, they were again inquired for, and utilized, so far as the scope of that work admitted, in preparing an account of the Mikir language for insertion in the Survey. [3] In 1904, when Sir Bampfylde Fuller had obtained the sanction of the Government of India to his scheme for the preparation of a series of descriptive monographs on the more important tribes and castes of Assam, he proposed to me to undertake an account of the Mikirs, based on Stack's materials. There were several reasons why I hesitated to accept the task. It was many years since I had left the province, and official work and other studies claimed time and leisure. The materials were themselves in the rough--mere notes and jottings, sufficient for the man who carried the main part of his knowledge in his head, but by no means easy to interpret or set in order for one who had no such knowledge. They dated, too, from twenty years back, and in the interval great changes had occurred in the material development of the tract where the Mikirs live, which is now traversed by the Assam-Bengal Railway. I decided, nevertheless, to make the attempt, and, however imperfectly, to do something to perpetuate the work of a man to whom I was most intimately bound by affection, and whose great powers and attractive personality were the admiration and delight of all who knew him. The present volume is the result. In addition to Stack's notes, I received from Assam three sets of replies to ethnographical questions which had been circulated to persons acquainted with the tribe. These were from Mr. W. C. M. Dundas, Subdivisional Officer of North Cachar, and the Rev. P. E. Moore and Mr. Allen of the American Baptist Mission. [4] These replies, which were not very detailed, while quite independent in origin, agreed closely with Stack's data, and showed that the lapse of years had not made the latter inapplicable to the present time. In the following pages any information drawn from these sources has been duly acknowledged. It was explained in the Introduction to Major Gurdon's Monograph on the Khasis (1907) that the order and arrangement of subjects to be treated in dealing with each tribe had been prescribed by authority; and Stack's notes had to be brought within this framework. As will be seen, under certain heads not much information is forthcoming; and perhaps the more searching standard of inquiry applied by ethnologists in the present day might demand more exhaustive treatment of some points in this presentment of the Mikir people. This, however, must be left for our successors. Section I has been expanded by adding numerical data from the last Census (1901), and measurements from Lieut.-Colonel L. A. Waddell's Tribes of the Brahmaputra Valley (1900). Section II (Domestic Life) is entirely due to Stack. The same is the case with Section III (Laws and Customs), except the Appendix. Section IV (Religion) is wholly Stack's; reading the careful and minute account which it contains of the funeral ceremonies, one is strongly impressed by the thoroughness which he brought to his investigations. Section V (Folk-lore) contains translations of three of the folk-tales written down in Mikir by Stack, of which the original text, with an interlinear rendering, is given in Section VI. These translations, in both Sections, have been made by me. Stack's manuscript supplied the Mikir text, which has been faithfully copied, and a number of explanatory notes, but no connected rendering. I have therefore had to depend upon my study of the language in the linguistic materials collected by him, and those contained in Mr. Neighbor's vocabulary and Sardoka's dictionary and phrase-book. I had hoped to have the assistance of Sardoka himself in revising the translations. He served for many years in the Assam Secretariat after Stack's death, and helped in the preparation of the specimens of Mikir for the Linguistic Survey in 1902; but in September, 1904, he was transferred as mauzadar, or Revenue collector and administrator, to the important mauza or territorial division in the Mikir Hills called Duar Baguri, now divided between the districts of Nowgong and Sibsagar; and on the 8th March, 1905, he most unhappily died there of cholera. Other help was not forthcoming. I must, therefore, ask for the indulgence of those better acquainted than I with Mikir in regard to these renderings. Probably they contain many errors of detail; but at least they seem to hang together as a whole, and to be consistent with what I could ascertain elsewhere of the fashion of Mikir speech. The notes are chiefly from Stack. The sketch of the Grammar in Section VI is reproduced (in a somewhat abridged form) from that which I contributed to the Linguistic Survey. Stack himself had drawn up no grammar, though he had put together much illustrative material from which the mechanism of the language could be deduced. The main facts are clear and comparatively simple, though there are not a few idiomatic expressions in the texts of which it is difficult to give a satisfactory account. For the last Section, that dealing with the probable affinities of the Mikir race, I must take the full responsibility. It is the result of the collation and comparison of materials from many sources, and especially those contained in the three volumes of the Linguistic Survey treating of the Tibeto-Burman family of speech. The authorities on which I have relied are indicated in the text. In the Bibliography I have entered only those works (so far as known to me) which contribute something to our knowledge of the Mikirs. I have not thought it necessary to specify mere casual allusions to the tribe, or to quote imperfect lists of words which have been superseded by more accurate material. For the coloured illustrations I have to thank Miss Eirene Scott-O'Connor (now Mrs. Philip Rogers), and for the photographs Major Gurdon and Mr. W. C. M. Dundas; the reproductions are by Messrs. W. Griggs and Sons. The map (by Mr. J. G. Bartholomew) showing the localities inhabited by the Mikirs is taken from the new volumes of the Imperial Gazetteer of India. An explanation of the system adopted for rendering Mikir words will be found on p. 74. C. J. LYALL. April, 1908. TABLE OF CONTENTS. PAGES Introductory Note vii-xiii Section I. GENERAL. Numbers and Distribution 1-2 Habitat 2-3 Physical characters 4 Traditions as to origin 4-5 Dress 5-6 Tattooing 6 Jewellery 6 Weapons 6 Section II. DOMESTIC LIFE. Occupations 7 Houses 7-9 Furniture 9-10 Manufactures 10 Agriculture and crops 10-11 Lads' clubs (riso-mar) 11-12 Hunting and fishing 12 Food 12-13 Drink 13 Luxuries 14 Section III. LAWS AND CUSTOMS. Sections or Divisions 15 Exogamous groups 15-17 Personal names 17 Marriage 17-19 Female chastity 19 Polygamy 19-20 Divorce 20 Words for relationship by blood or marriage 20-21 Inheritance 21 Property in land 21-22 Mikir mauzas 22 Decision of disputes: village councils 22 War 22 Outsiders admitted to tribe 23 Appendix: List of exogamous groups as given by other authorities 23-27 Section IV. RELIGION. General character of popular belief in ghosts and spirits, and a future life 28-29 Amulets 30 The gods and their worship 30-34 Divination and magic 34-37 Oaths and imprecations 37 Funeral ceremonies 37-42 Festivities 43 Tabu 43 Section V. FOLK-LORE AND FOLK-TALES. Character of Mikir Folk-tales 44-46 Three stories translated:-- 1. Story of a Frog 46-48 2. The Orphan and his Uncles 48-55 3. Harata Kunwar 55-70 Appendix: The Legend of Creation 70-72 Section VI. LANGUAGE. Outline of Mikir grammar 73-87 Mikir text of three stories:-- 1. Story of a Frog 88-94 2. The Orphan and his Uncles 95-112 3. Harata Kunwar 113-150 Section VII. AFFINITIES. The place of the Mikirs in the Tibeto-Burman Family 151-172 Bibliography 173-177 Index 179-183 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. A Mikir Man Frontispiece A Group of Mikirs (North Cachar)--1 To face page 5 A Mikir Girl 6 Plan of Mikir House Page 8 Mikir House: Family Group To face page 10 A Group of Mikirs (North Cachar)--2 23 A Mikir Boy 56 An Old Mikir Woman 59 Women pounding Paddy 132 Map showing Locality of Mikirs at end of volume THE MIKIRS I. GENERAL. Numbers--Habitat--Physical appearance--Traditions as to origin--Affinities--Dress--Tattooing--Ornaments--Weapons. The Mikirs are one of the most numerous and homogeneous of the many Tibeto-Burman races inhabiting the Province of Assam. In the tables of the Report on the Census of 1901 the number of Mikirs by race is given as 87,046, and that of speakers of the Mikir language as 82,283; but there are curious discrepancies in the details. In no district are the speakers of Mikir identical in number with those returned as Mikir by race; and it is remarkable that in several, more persons are returned as speaking the language than as belonging to the tribe. On the other hand, in the North Cachar Hills none of the 1446 Mikirs by race are shown as speaking Mikir, which is manifestly absurd. The following are the figures:-- District. Mikirs by race. Speaking Mikir. Cachar Plains 717 728 Sylhet 156 166 Kamrup 10,587 8,026 Darrang 2,646 3,108 Nowgong 35,732 34,273 Sibsagar 22,909 22,803 North Cachar 1,446 nil. Khasi and Jaintia Hills 12,840 13,142 Elsewhere 13 37 ====== ====== Total 87,046 82,283 In Kamrup, Nowgong, and Sibsagar it may reasonably be assumed that the Mikirs returned as speaking some other language (probably Assamese) also spoke the speech of their tribe, being bilingual like other non-Aryan races in Assam; and the 809 persons in Darrang, the Khasi and Jaintia Hills, and elsewhere, returned as speaking Mikir, though not as Mikirs by race, must really have belonged to the tribe. Since 1891, when the number of Mikirs was returned as 94,829, there has been a considerable falling-off, due to the terrible ravages of the disease called Kala-azar [5] in the Nowgong and Kamrup districts. The Mikirs inhabit in greatest strength the hills called after them, the isolated mountainous block which fills the triangle between the Brahmaputra on the north, the Dhansiri valley on the east, and the Kopili and Jamuna valleys on the west and south; this tract is now divided between the Nowgong and Sibsagar districts. They are also found in considerable numbers on the northern skirts of the Assam Range, in Nowgong, the Khasi and Jaintia Hills, and Kamrup, and were once numerous, as testified by the local place- and river-names, in North Cachar. They have settled in the plains, and taken to plough cultivation, in Nowgong and Kamrup, and have also established recent settlements of the same kind north of the Brahmaputra in Darrang. The great bulk, however, remain a hill tribe, occupying the forest-clad northern slopes of the central range of Assam, and practising the primitive method of cultivation by axe, fire, and hoe. In the Mikir Hills there are summits which attain 4,000 feet, but the greater part of the block is of much lower elevation. The rock is chiefly gneiss and granite, with few traces of overlying formations; and the whole is clothed with forest growth, chiefly of bamboo, figs of different species, cinnamon, Artocarpus, nahor (Mesua ferrea), and a few other trees valuable for their timber. The soil is light, and soon exhausted by cropping; it is naturally most fertile in the valleys, where the deepest deposits are found. The Mikir Hills, in 1886 when Mr. Stack wrote, had been very little explored by Europeans, and their interior was almost unknown. To the north, from Koliabor to Kaziranga, they abut on the Brahmaputra, only a narrow strip of country, traversed by the southern Grand Trunk road, intervening between them and the river. This strip has few inhabitants and little cultivation, and is covered with high grass and cotton tree (semal) jungle, the haunt of wild buffalo and rhinoceros. To the east is the great Nambar forest, a dense area of high trees occupying the Dhansiri valley from Dimapur to within ten miles of Golaghat. To the south-west is the valley of the Jamuna, now traversed by the railway from Gauhati to Lumding, a region of tall grass and sparse tree jungle. The plain which is formed by the alluvial valley of the Kopili (or Kupli) river and its affluents, the Jamuna and the Diyaung (the latter coming from the North Cachar Hills), next intervenes; and to the west the land rises again in the northern skirts of the Jaintia and Khasi Hills. Here the country is of the same character as in the Mikir Hills, but better known. It consists of a series of plateaus or shelves rising from the level of the valley, composed of gneiss and granite, and covered with a red clay soil, the result of the decomposition of the metamorphic sandstones which overlay the igneous rock. The jungle here also is chiefly of bamboo, with a few patches of valuable forest, chiefly sal (Shorea robusta), still surviving; but most of the larger timber has been destroyed by the secular practice of axe and fire cultivation. It is in this hilly country, and in the plains at its base, that the Mikir people are found. The region is continuous, and is distributed, as the figures just given show, between the districts (from east to west) of Sibsagar, Nowgong, North Cachar, the Jaintia and Khasi Hills, and Kamrup. It is malarious and unhealthy for unacclimatized persons, with a very moist climate, and is wanting in the breezy amenities of the higher plateaus of the Khasi and Jaintia Hills; but (save during the recent prevalence of Kala-azar) the inhabitants appear to have acquired some degree of immunity against the noxious influences of the locality. Side by side with the Mikirs dwell, in the Mikir Hills, the Rengma Nagas (who are recent immigrants from the eastern side of the Dhansiri); in the Jamuna and Diyaung valleys, the Dimasa or Kacharis; in the Jaintia Hills, the Kukis and Syntengs; and in the Khasi Hills and along the Nowgong and Kamrup borders, the Lalungs and a few settlements of Khasis. The name Mikir is that given to the race by the Assamese: its origin is unknown. They call themselves Arlèng, which means man in general. [6] In features the men resemble Assamese of the lower classes more than most of the Tibeto-Burman races. Their colour is light yellowish brown, and the girls are often fair. The men are as tall as the majority of the hill races of Assam, Colonel L. A. Waddell's eighteen specimens averaging 1633 millimetres, or 5·354 feet, in height, the tallest being 5·583 feet, and the shortest 5·108. The average is noticeably higher than that of their neighbours the Khasis. The average head measurements in these specimens were--length, 181 millimetres; breadth, 141; cephalic index, 77·9. The nose is broad at the base, and often flat, giving a nasal index of 85·1, and an orbito-nasal of 107·7. The facial hair is scanty, and only a thin moustache is worn. The front of the head is sometimes, but not generally, shorn. The hair is gathered into a knot behind, which hangs over the nape of the neck. The body is muscular, and the men are capable of prolonged exertion. In frontier expeditions in Assam they have frequently served (like the Khasis) as porters, and carry heavy loads, the burden being borne upon the back and secured by a plaited bamboo (or cane) strap passing round the forehead (Mikir, sinàm). The traditions of the race point to the Eastern portion of the Khasi and Jaintia Hills, bordering on the Kopili (or Kupli) river (where many still remain), as their original abode. They speak of this as Nihàng, in contradistinction to Nilip, the Duar Baguri or Nowgong region which they now inhabit. Being harassed by warfare between Khasi (or Synteng) chiefs, they resolved to move into Ahom territory, and sent emissaries to claim protection from the Ahom governor of Raha (Nowgong District). These unfortunate persons, being unable to make themselves understood, were straightway buried alive in the embankment of a tank which the governor was excavating. The hostilities which ensued were concluded by an embassage to the king himself in Sibsagar, and the Mikirs have ever since been living peacefully in the territory assigned to them. They have dim traditions of a king of their own in the good old days, whom they call Sòt Recho, and are said by Mr. Stack to expect his return to earth. His seat is said to have been in Ròng-khàng (or Ròng-hàng), perhaps connected with Ni-hàng (Ròng, village). They had fights with the Dimasa or Hill Kacharis, and were led by Thòng Nòkbe and other captains, who established a fort at Diyaung-mukh (the junction of the Diyaung and Kopili rivers), the ruins of which are still to be seen. Along the northern skirts of the Mikir Hills there are remains of old brick buildings and sculptures, which are now ascribed to the Gods. Old men tell historical legends to the young ones, and there are also legendary songs, sung at festivals; but there is no class specially set apart for the preservation of such traditions, and the memory of the race is short. They are a mild and unwarlike people, and are said to have given up the use of arms when they placed themselves under the protection of the Ahom kings. They claim kinship with no other tribe in Assam, and are, in fact, difficult to group with other branches of the great Tibeto-Burman stock to which they undoubtedly belong. The conclusions as to their affinities which it seems legitimate to draw from their institutions, culture, and language, will be found stated in Section VII. of this Monograph. In dress the Mikir man imitates the Khasi, to whom he seems to have lived in subjection in former times. On his head he now wears a turban (pohu, poho), but formerly the Khasi cap (phu-tup), of black or red cloth, was more usually worn. On his loins he wears a dhoti (rikòng) of cotton cloth, and sometimes, if wealthy, of silk. His coat is a sleeveless striped jacket (choi), with a long fringe covering the buttocks and coming round in front (choi-apre). In cold weather he wears a thick wrapper (called in Assamese bor kapor) of eri silk (pe-inki). The legs are uncovered, and shoes are not worn. The women wear a petticoat (pini), secured round the waist by an ornamental girdle (vànkòk). The petticoat is of white and red striped eri cloth. The upper part of the body is covered with the ji-so, a wrapper passing under the arms and drawn tight over the breasts. The head is uncovered, and the hair is drawn back and tied in a knot behind. In the funeral dances, however, the head is covered with a black scarf (ji-so ke-ik). The men do not tattoo any part of the body. The women, on attaining puberty, usually tattoo a perpendicular line with indigo down the middle of the forehead, the nose, upper lip, and chin; no other part of the body is tattooed. A characteristic ornament is a large silver tube inserted into the lobe of the ear, which is much distended thereby; this is called kadèngchinro, and weighs three or four rupees. The ordinary hanging earring (suspended from the outer part of the ear) of gold or silver is called no-rik. Necklaces (lèk) are worn, of gold or silver and coral beads, as by the Khasis. Rings (arnàn) and bracelets (roi), of gold and silver, are worn. The feathers of the bhim-raj are worn in the turban on festal occasions, as among the Khasis. The national weapons are the long knife (nòk, nòk-jir), by the English commonly called by the Hindi name dao, the spear (chir), and the bow (thai, bòp-thaili) made of bamboo, with a string of tough bamboo fibre. In these there is nothing peculiar. II. DOMESTIC LIFE. Occupations--Houses--Furniture--Implements and utensils--Manufactures--Agriculture--Riso mar, or lads' clubs--Crops--Hunting--Fishing--Food and Drink. The Mikir people have always been agriculturists. Their villages, in the hills which are their proper habitat, are set up in clearings in the forest, and are shifted from place to place when the soil has been exhausted by cropping. Their houses are large and substantial, and are strongly put together. The Mikirs are not now (if they ever were [7]), as Colonel Dalton relates in his Ethnology of Bengal, in the habit of lodging several families, or even the whole village, in one house. The inhabitants of a house are all of one family, but may often be numerous, as married sons frequently live with their parents. The Mikir house is built on posts, and the floor is raised several feet above the ground. The material of the super-structure is bamboo, slit and flattened out, and the whole is thatched with san-grass. A moderate elevation, with a flat top, is preferred for building; a slope will be taken if no better site can be found. The house is divided lengthwise by a partition called arpòng, or nòksèk-arpòng, into kàm, the guests' or servants' chamber, and kut, the living-room of the family. Kàm is on the right side as you enter, and the only door into the house leads into it. In kàm a platform or chang, called tibung, raised above the floor the diameter of a bamboo, runs along the outside wall; this may be divided off laterally into rooms for sleeping. In kut, separated off by a partition on the side of the outer wall, is a long, narrow chamber, one bamboo's diameter lower than the floor, called vo-roi, in which the fowls and goats are kept at night; it has a separate door, called vo-roi-amehàn. In kut, towards the back, is the fireplace (mehip). The space before it is dàm-thàk, where the family sleep, and the bamboo paddy-receptacle stands. Behind the fireplace is dàm-buk, a vacant space, where the grown-up daughter or old woman sleeps. Between the fire and the vo-roi is the rice-pot (sàng-ràngtik), holding the stock of husked rice. Between the fire and the partition (arpòng) is the kut-athèngthòr, a space for miscellaneous articles. Above the vo-roi a shelf is raised under the roof, called vo-harlip, for pots, etc. Opposite the fireplace is a door leading into kàm. In kàm, if the house is large, there are two fireplaces. Before the fire the space is called kàm-athèngthòt, or nòksèk. In the corner of the front wall and the partition (arpòng) are put the water-chungas (làng-bòng); it is called làng-tenun. The front door is called hòngthu, the back door pàn, or pàn-hòngthu. The front veranda is called hòng-kup. The tibung runs out into it, and the part beyond the front wall of the house is called thèng-roi-rai, "the place for bringing (or storing) firewood" (thèng). Beyond the hòng-kup the platform extends unroofed (hòng-plàng). If the house be a large one, a hòng-pharla, roofed over, for strangers to lodge in, is made on the right side of the hòng-plàng, but disconnected with the thèng-roi-rai; between it and the latter is the ladder to gain access to the platform (dòndòn), usually a tree-trunk with notches cut in it for the feet. The hòng-pharla may extend also across the front of the house; it is roofed over, but open towards the house. Similarly, at the back of the house is the pàng-hòngkup, or back veranda, and the unroofed pàng beyond. No ladder gives access to this. Under the house are the pigsties, phàk-roi, and in front is a yard or compound (tikup), usually fenced round. The furniture of the house is of the simplest description. The floor, or a raised platform of bamboo, serves as a bed. A block of wood (inghoi; Ass. pira) is used as a stool to sit on. Baskets of bamboo and cane are employed as cupboards in which to store the household goods, the paddy, and the clothes. These baskets are of various shapes and sizes, and bear many different names. Joints of bamboo (Ass. chunga; Mikir, làng-bòng) are used for holding water, and also as boxes to contain valuables of all kinds. The Mikirs have few manufactures. Weaving is done by the women of the family on rude wooden looms (pè-theràng), the cotton raised in their fields being previously spun on a wheel (mi-thòngràng). They also raise eri silk (inki), the cocoon of the Attacus ricini, fed on the castor-oil plant, and weave it into coarse fabrics, chiefly the bor-kapor, or blanket, used in the cold weather. They dye their thread with indigo (sibu), a small patch of which is grown near every house. The indigo is not derived from Indigofera, but from a species of Strobilanthes, generally identified as S. flaccidifolius. Mr. Stack notes that there are two kinds, bu-thi and bu-jir; the latter, he says, is trained up poles, and has a longer leaf. The leaves of the plant are bruised in a wooden mortar and mixed with water, and the blue colour develops, as in ordinary indigo, in a few days' time by chemical change. Besides indigo, they use a red dye, the source of which is probably the same as the Khasi red dye (see Khasi Monograph, p. 60). Blacksmiths (hemai) have existed among them from remote times, and they can fashion their own daos and various kinds of knives. They also make needles (for which old umbrella-ribs are in much request), and hooks for fishing. They also make their own gold and silver ornaments (necklaces, bracelets, rings, ear-ornaments). Pottery is made without the wheel, as among the Khasis (Monograph, p. 61). It is thick and durable, and well burnt. There are few potters among them, and the accomplishment is not common. In all these branches of manufacture the tendency, with the increase of intercourse and the cessation of isolation, is to give up domestic workmanship and rely more upon outside markets. The main crops are summer rice (maikum), sown with the first rains and reaped in November-December, and cotton (phelo), also grown in the rains and gathered in the cold weather. The system of jhuming, by which land is prepared for cultivation by cutting down and burning the jungle, is in no respect different from the practice of all hill-tribes in the province. They do not plant out their rice, nor use the plough in cultivating it. There is no irrigation. Besides these main crops, castor-oil is grown for feeding the eri silkworm; maize (thèngthe), turmeric (tharmit), yams (hèn, Colocasia), red pepper (birik), aubergines (Hindi, baingan; Mikir, hepi), and ginger (hànso) are also cultivated in small patches. Another crop is lac, grown on branches of the arhar plant (see Khasi Monograph, p. 47). When Mr. Stack wrote, the most important institution from the point of view of agriculture was the association or club of the dekas (Ass.), or young men (from twelve to sixteen, eighteen, or twenty years of age) of the village (Mikir, ri-so-mar); but it is reported that this useful form of co-operation is now falling into desuetude. In former days the village youths (as in Naga-land) used to live together in a house by themselves, called in Mikir maro or teràng (in Assamese, deka-chang). [8] Now there is no maro, and the risomar live in the gaonbura's house, in the hòng-pharla, the place in which strangers are lodged. They send a boy to bring their food from their homes, and all eat together. Each man's share is brought in a leaf-bundle (àn-bòr) to keep it warm. The gaonbura calls the people together, and proposes that, having so many lads in the village, they should start a lads' club. If agreed to, the union of the risomar is formed, and the lads take up their quarters in his house. The club is organized under regular officers appointed by themselves. The gaonbura has general authority over them, but their own chief is the klèng sarpo. Next comes the klèng-dun, then the sodar-kethe, then the sodar-so or phàndiri, then the sàngho-kerai ("he who fetches the company"), then the barlòn ("carrier of the measuring-rod"). Other officers are the chèng-brup-pi and chèng-brup-so (drummers, chief and lieutenant), the phàn-kri (the lad who waits on the klèng sarpo), the motàn ar-e and motàn arvi ("the right and left outside strips of the field"), the làngbòng-po ("carrier of the water-chunga"), arphèk-po ("carrier of the broom"), and the chinhàk-po ("carrier of the basket of tools"). The risomar all work in the fields together, each having his own strip (a-mo) to till. The village fields are allotted each to one house, and the grown men confine their work to their own fields; but the risomar go the round of all the fields in the village. Work is enforced by penalties. They used to roast those who shirked their share; now they beat them for failure to work. If the klèng sarpo finds a lad refractory, he reports him to the gaonbura. Villages like having deka clubs. They help greatly in cultivation, practice dancing and singing, and keep alive the village usages and tribal customs. They are in great request at funerals, which are the celebrations in which most spirit is shown. Hunting, with spears and dogs, is practised. The objects of the chase are deer and wild pig; also the iguana (Ass. gui) and tortoise. The dog barks and follows up the track by scent. They also set traps (arhàng) for tigers, with a spear placed so as to be discharged from a spring formed by a bent sapling; twice round the tiger's pug gives the height of his chest, at which the spear is pointed; a rope of creeper stretched across the path releases the spring when the tiger passes that way and comes against it. Fishing is done with rod and line, but chiefly by means of traps and baskets, as in Assam generally. The trap (ru) is a basket of bamboo, constructed so that the fish can get in but cannot get out, and is fixed in an opening in a fence (a-ru-pat) placed in a stone dam built across a stream. The staple food is rice, which is husked in the usual way, by being pounded with a long pestle in a wooden mortar, and cooked by the women of the family. The flesh of cows is not eaten; there is said to be a dislike even to keep them, but this prejudice is now dying out. Milk is not drunk. Fowls, goats, and pigs are kept for food, but eaten chiefly at sacrifices; eggs are eaten. A delicacy is the chrysalis of the eri silkworm (Attacus ricini); it is eaten roasted and curried. Children (but not grown folk) cook and eat crabs and rats. In cooking meat, spits (òk-akròn) are used; the meat is either cut up and skewered, or a large lump is placed whole on the embers; it is thoroughly cooked. Fish is cut into slices and put in the sun to dry, or smoked. Meat also is cut into strips and dried on frames in the sun. The vegetables are those commonly used by the Assamese. Sugar-cane (nòk) is not much grown. A favourite seasoning is mint (lopòng-brik). Men and women eat together, within the house. The right hand is used in eating. Leaf-plates are most used, but platters of pot-metal are also found. No knife is used in eating: the meat is cut up beforehand. The first meal is cooked and eaten at 7 or 8 a.m., and consists of rice. The evening meal is cooked after the day's field-work is over, unless there be a cook in the house. At each meal a pinch of the food is put aside for the God (arnàm). The national drink is rice-beer (hòr, hòrpo), which is made by each household for itself. The rice is cooked, and well broken up on a mat. It is then mixed with a ferment called thàp (Bengali, bakhar), made of powdered rice with certain kinds of leaves pounded into it, and the whole dried for use as required. After this has been thoroughly mixed with the boiled rice, the latter is heaped up and covered with plantain leaves, and put aside in the house. In three or four days, in the hot weather, fermentation sets in; in the cold weather a longer time is required. It is then put into an earthern jar or kalsi (Beng.) and water added, after which it is emptied into a conical basket, whence it is allowed to strain through a bamboo joint into a pot below. To make hòr (Ass. modh), rice is taken from the basket and warmed with water, which is strained off, and is the modh or hòrpo; the rice is thrown to the pigs. The better and stronger beer is that which was drained off the original conical basket, and is called hòr-alàng. Aràk (Hind.) is the spirit distilled from the fermented rice mixed with water. The still is a rude one of earthern pots connected by a bamboo. A stronger stuff is made by distilling hòr-alàng. Hòr will keep good for two months if left untouched. It is a common family drink. Gourds are used for keeping it in and carrying it about for use. Drunkenness is not common in the villages, and the ceremonies and festivities at which beer is drunk are not noisy. The me or general council, however, when large quantities are consumed, is sometimes noisy. Opium is used to a large extent by the Mikirs as by other Assamese (Mr. Allen states that nearly all male adults indulge in it). Tobacco is smoked, and also chewed with betel. The bowl of the tobacco-pipe is made of burnt clay or of bamboo root. Betel-nut (kove; Khasi, kwai) is largely consumed in the usual way, with lime and pan-leaf (bithi); and (as among the Khasis) time and distance are computed by the interval required to chew a nut. (The phrase is ingtàt e-òm-ta er, "the time it takes to chew the nut and pan-leaf red": ingtàt, roll for chewing; e-, one; òm, chew; er, red.) III. LAWS AND CUSTOMS. Internal structure--Sections or divisions--Exogamous groups--Marriage laws--Common names--Marriage ceremony--Female chastity--Polygamy--Divorce--Words for relationship by blood and marriage--Inheritance--Property in land--Decision of disputes--Village council--Relations with neighbouring races--Appendix: Lists of exogamous groups given by other authorities compared with those given by Mr. Stack. The Mikir people proper--that is, those who continue to live in the hills--are divided into three sections, called Chintòng, Rònghàng, and Amri. In the days of the migration eastward from the Kopili region, Amri stayed behind, or loitered, and Chintòng and Rònghàng waited for him as they moved from stage to stage. At last, on arriving at the Dhansiri river, Chintòng and Rònghàng resolved to be only two sections in future. The laggard Amri afterwards arrived, but was not received back into full fellowship. He has no honour at the general festivals, and in the distribution of rice-beer at feasts he gets no gourd for himself, but has to drink from those of the other two. These are the conditions as they exist in the Mikir Hills and Nowgong (Duar Baguri); in Ni-hàng, however (the region of the Kopili), Amri is on an equality with the others. The Mikir Hills are chiefly inhabited by the Chintòng section, North Cachar and the hilly parts of Nowgong by the Rònghàng, and the Khasi and Jaintia Hills by Amri; but individuals of all three are found dwelling among the others. These names, however, do not indicate true tribal divisions, supposed to be derived from a common ancestor and united in blood, and are probably in reality local- or place-names. Amri, in particular, seems to be a Khasi river-name, and Rònghàng is the legendary site of Sòt Recho's capital. The real tribal exogamous divisions run through all three, and are called kur (a Khasi word: Assamese, phoid). Each of the three sections of the race has within it the same kurs, and the individuals belonging to these kurs, whether in Chintòng, Rònghàng, or Amri, observe the same rules of exogamy. The number and names of the kurs, or exogamous groups, are differently given by different authorities. The differences appear to be partly explained by the fact that one authority has taken for a principal group-name what another has entered as a sub-group under another larger section. In an appendix will be found the grouping according to several different authorities. Here the data given by Mr. Stack, who appears to have relied chiefly on information obtained in Duar Baguri, are reproduced. He found that the people recognized four kurs, called respectively Ingti, Teràng, [9] Lèkthe, and Timung, under which the smaller groups (also called kur) are ranged thus-- I. Ingti. III. Lèkthe. (1) Taro. (1) Hànse. (2) Katar. (2) Tutso. (3) Hènsèk. (3) Bòngrun. (4) Inglèng. (4) Kràmsa. II. Teràng. IV. Timung. (1) Be. (1) Tòkbi. (2) Kro. (2) Sèngnar. (3) Ingjar. (3) Ròngphar. As already mentioned, these kurs are exogamous: an individual belonging to kur Ingti must go outside that kur for his wife; and similarly Teràng, Lèkthe, and Timung cannot marry wives drawn from within the kur. The sub-groups are, of course, as parts of the larger groups, also exogamous; and it is easy to perceive how one informant may count as a principal group-division what another may regard as a sub-division. All the kurs are now socially on an equality, and have no scruples as to eating together or intermarriage; their traditional rank is, however, as given above. Ingti is said to have been in former times the priestly clan (Ass. gohain); Teràng also claims this dignity, but is thought to be of lower rank; but in both cases the office has fallen entirely into desuetude. Lèkthe is said to have been the military clan, while Timung represented the rest of the people. The Mikirs who settled in the plains of Nowgong and took to plough cultivation are called Dumrali by the Mikirs and Tholua by the Assamese. They are said to have acted as interpreters to the mission which visited the Ahom king at Sibsagar. They also have the same kurs as the other three sections of hill Mikirs. The children are counted to their father's kur, and cannot marry within it. They may, however, marry their first cousins on the mother's side, and indeed this appears to have been formerly the most usual match. This absence of matriarchal institutions strongly marks off the Mikirs from the Khasis, from whom they have in other respects borrowed much. The following are common personal names among the Mikirs:-- MEN. WOMEN. Sardoka. Karèng. Mòn. Kache. Dili. Kabàn. There. Kamàng. Kàngther. Ka-èt. Tamoi. Ka-jir. Temèn. Katu. Bura. Kare. Pator. Kasàng. Lòng. Kadòm. Mèn. Dimi. Bi. Ingle. Sotera. It is said that no meaning is attached to these names; that is, they are not given because of any meaning which they may possess. (It is evident that many of them have a meaning: e.g. Bi is a goat, Lòng a stone, Pator is a village official among the Khasis, Bura is Assamese for "an old man," Tamoi is probably the Assamese for the betel-nut (tamol.) Sotera may be corrupted from sangtara, orange.) The prefix Ka- in women's names is manifestly taken from Khasi usage. There are no surnames, but the name of the kur is used to distinguish one individual from another, as Mòn Lèkthe, Mòn Timung. The age for marriage is from fourteen to twenty-five for the man, ten to fifteen for the girl; eighteen or nineteen and fifteen are the most usual ages. Child marriage is unknown. If a young man fancies a girl (from meeting her at dances and the like), he sends one or both parents to her father's house, and if the girl's parents agree, the lad's father leaves a betrothal ring or bracelet with the girl (this is called ke-roi-dun); sometimes a gourd of rice beer is taken and accepted, and in that case, if she subsequently marries another, the village council fine her family 25 to 35 rupees; otherwise only the betrothal ring or bracelet is returned. The length of the engagement is uncertain, but the actual marriage does not take place till after puberty. When the marriage day is fixed, both families prepare beer and spirits; if the bridegroom is rich, he provides drink for the whole country-side (hòr-hàk hòr-tibuk). The bridegroom's party, giving a gourd of beer to each village they pass through, arrive at the bride's house in the evening. There they sit awhile, and then offer one gourd of beer and one glass bottle of spirits to the bride's father on the hòng. A colloquy ensues: the bride's father asks the bridegroom's why they have come, and why these offerings. He answers, "Your sister (i.e. the wife of the speaker) is becoming old and cannot work, so we have brought our son to marry your daughter." (The custom formerly was that a boy must marry his first cousin on the mother's side, and if he did not, the maternal uncle could beat the lad as much as he liked; but now they can do as they please.) The reply follows: "My daughter is unworthy, she does not know weaving and other household work." "Never mind, we will teach her ourselves." The bride's father then asks his wife to enquire of the girl if she will take the lad; without her consent the beer and spirits cannot be accepted. If the wife reports consent, the beer and spirits are drunk by the two fathers. Sometimes they sit the whole night before the girl's consent is obtained. If any knowing old men are there, they sing in two parties: "We cannot send our daughter to your house!" "We cannot leave our boy to stay with you!" When the question of consent is settled, all eat together. Then the bride prepares the bed inside the house for the bridegroom, in the kàm; in the tibung (see plan [10]) if there is room: if not, in the thèngthòr; but if the lad is ashamed, he sends one of his garments to take his place in the bed. What follows depends upon the wealth and standing of the parties. If the wedding is akejoi--that is, if no payment is to be made for the bride--the girl goes with her husband next day to her new home. Her parents accompany her, and are entertained with food and drink, returning the following day. If the wedding is akemèn (literally, ripe, pakka), the lad stays in his father-in-law's house. He rests one day, and then works for his father-in-law for a year, or two years, or even it may be for life, according to agreement. There is no money payment in any case. If the girl is an heiress or only daughter, the marriage is usually akemèn; but in the great majority of cases it is akejoi. The neighbours of both villages assemble at the marriage, and when the bride goes to her husband's house, the neighbours of the village accompany her and are hospitably entertained. Before marriage it was reported, when Mr. Stack made his enquiries, that there was little intercourse between the sexes. Seduction rarely occurred, but when it did, the parents of the girl had to give her to the lad in marriage. It was not punished. Old men, however, could remember (1885) when the teràng or "bachelors' house" used to be the abode not only of the lads, but also of the maids, and illegitimate births were common. The girls used even to work in the fields with the boys; there was not even a matron to look after them! After marriage adultery is said to be rare. The case is judged by the me, or village council, who inflict a fine. The guilty pair are tied up and exposed to the scorn of the neighbours until the fine is paid by the man. Adultery was never capitally punished. After the fine is paid, the husband has to take his wife back, unless there are no children, when he might refuse to do so. The fine is not given to the offended husband, but distributed among the elders who compose the me. The authorities differ on the question whether more than one wife is allowed. When Mr. Stack wrote, in 1883, the chapter on "Castes and Tribes" in the Report on the Assam Census of 1881, he stated that "polygamy is permitted if a man can afford it." His subsequent notes of 1885-86, however, record that monogamy is the rule, and no one is allowed to marry two wives. Mr. W. C. M. Dundas, Subdivisional Officer of North Cachar, writing in 1903, says that an Arlèng may marry only one wife. On the other hand, the Rev. P. E. Moore, who has a long experience of the Mikirs, writing in 1902, says, "Polygamy is not common. A man sometimes takes a second wife. In one instance which came to my notice recently the two wives were married on the same day. The man is usually fined Rs. 12.8 for this irregularity. The father of a boy who is now in my service had six wives, and was not punished at all." [11] Perhaps it may be concluded that monogamy is the general rule, and that cases of polygamy have occurred in consequence of the effect of the example of the Assamese, and the weakening of tribal sanctions. The young couple live in the bridegroom's father's house. The old people often get separate rooms allotted to them as they advance in life, and are supported in idleness. Widow marriage is allowed. Divorce is rare, but permissible if there is no offspring, or if the girl goes home after marriage and refuses to return to her husband. In that case the husband takes a gourd of beer to her parents and declares himself free. Both parties, after the divorce, can marry again. [NOTE BY EDITOR. The following list of Mikir words for family relationship has some points of interest:-- Grandfather, phu. Grandmother, phi. Father, po. Mother, pei, pi. Husband, pèng-àn. Wife, peso. (Wedded pair, Pèng-àn-so, Pengnàn-so.) Wife's father, hupo, ònghai. Wife's mother, nipi, nihai. Husband's father, lòk-hai. Father's brother, punu. Father's sister, pinu. Mother's brother, òng, nihu. Father's brother's wife, ni. Child, common gender, without reference to parents, so. Boy, oso. Girl, osopi. Son, sopo. Daughter, sopi. Grandson, supo. Granddaughter, supi. Brother, in general, kòr, kòrte. Sister, in general, kòr, kòrte. Brother, when speaker is a female, chèkle. Elder } { ik { te, when speaker brother } words used by { Elder { is a female. Younger } both sexes { mu sister { ingjirpi, when speaker brother } { { is a male. Younger sister, mu. Brother-in-law: wife's brother, Brother's wife, for male òng-so. speaker, tepi; for female speaker, nèng. Sister's husband, me, Wife's sister, kòrpi. ingjir-arlo; kòrpo. Son-in-law, osa. Nephew, generally, philipo. Niece, philipi. Elder brother's son, ik-aso. Brother's son, kòr-aso. Sister's son, osa. The remarkable point about these names is that most of them are the same for both sexes, and that the sexes are distinguished only by words indicating gender where this is required. Po is the index for the male, pi that for the female. Again, the same word appears to be used in different senses: e.g. òng is maternal uncle, but òng-so (so is the syllable indicating a diminutive) is the wife's brother, the "little uncle;" osa is both nephew (sister's son) and son-in-law (pointing to the custom of intermarriage of first cousins on the mother's side). Te is sister, but tepi (pi indicates greatness) is brother's wife. Similarly, kòr is sister (or brother), kòrpi is wife's sister, kòrpo sister's husband. It will be observed that brothers and sisters, and brothers-in-law and sisters-in-law, use different forms of address when speaking of their relationship inter se. The whole subject seems to demand further investigation, in the light of comparison with the system of family grouping in other allied tribes, and the history and etymology, so far as it is possible to ascertain them, of the words indicating relationship.] The sons inherit; if there are none, the brothers; after them the deceased's nearest agnate of his own kur. The wife and daughters get nothing. But if the deceased has no sons or brothers, the widow can retain the property by marrying into her husband's kur. In any case she retains her personal property, ornaments, clothes, etc. If the widow will not surrender the property, the case has to come before the me. The eldest son gets somewhat more than the others on the father's death. Generally, however, the property is divided beforehand by the father, who often prefers one son to another. The family usually continues to dwell together, the grown-up sons supporting the widowed mother. Adoption is unknown. Villages have no fixed or recognized boundaries, but are moved from place to place according to the needs of cultivation. Only house-tax is paid, except by Mikirs cultivating land with the plough in the submontane tracts, who are treated in all respects like other Assamese raiyats. In the hills the culturable land, at the first settlement of a village in a new locality, is divided among the householders by the me, or village council, presided over by the gaonbura, the head of each household choosing his own land for cultivation, and any dispute being referred to the me. Should the dispute not be settled in this manner, the majority prevails, and the dissident households, if they do not acquiesce, may remove elsewhere and set up for themselves as a new community with a gaonbura of their own. The following are the Mikir mauzas, or territorial divisions including a number of villages, in the Nowgong district:-- Duar Baguri, Duar Bamuni, Duar Salona, Ròngkhàng, Duar Amla Parbat, Duar Dikhoru, Duar Kothiatali, Jamuna-par, Làngpher, Lumding Mikir. The last two are new mauzas, the opening-out of which is due to the Assam-Bengal Railway, which traverses the tract. Each mauza has a Mikir mauzadar or bikhoya. The decision of disputes is the business of the village me, or council, [12] presided over by the gaonbura (Mikir, sar-the). The me is composed of all the male householders. The gaonbura is chosen for his personal character by the householders. On election, he repairs, with beer and spirits, to the head gaonbura or mauzadar, bringing with him two or three other gaonburas. A pig is killed, the company eat and drink together, and the gaonbura is declared duly elected. The me is summoned by the gaonbura. It decides all village disputes, and inflicts small fines. It also determines whether the village shall be shifted, and where it shall be removed to. A me-pi ("great council") consists of gaonburas only, presided over by a mauzadar or head gaonbura. Graver matters, such as charges of adultery, witchcraft aimed at life (maja kechònghoi), tigers in the mauza, questions affecting the mauza at large, the arrangements for the Ròngker or annual village festival, and such like, are referred to the me-pi. The Mikirs have never been a warlike race, nor are there any traditions of inter-village feuds. Head-hunting has not been practised, but the tribe have often been the victim of raids for this purpose by their neighbours, the Angami Nagas. There are said to have formerly been vendettas between families. During the Burmese wars in the early part of the last century, the tribe deserted its settlements in the submontane tract, and fled into the higher hills. Many Assamese are reported to have taken refuge with them during this time, and to have become Mikirs. [Mr. Dundas also mentions that in North Cachar outsiders are admitted into the tribe and are enrolled as members of one of the kurs, after purification by one of the Be-kuru kur (Mr. Stack's Be and Kro, sub-kurs of Teràng). In the group opposite, taken from a photograph supplied by Mr. Dundas, the short man is evidently a Khasi, while the man to his left appears to be an Assamese.] The Mikirs call their Kachari neighbours Paròk, the Mikir pronunciation of Boro (in the allied dialect of Tipperah boròk means "man"); the Assamese are Ahòm, the Bengalis Bòngnai (Bòngnai-adin, "British rule"), the Nagas Naka. The Khasis generally are called Chomàng, the border race of Khasis, adjoining the Kopili or Kupli river, being Chomàng-Keche. Keche is, no doubt, equivalent to Khasi, the vowel-change being the same as in Recho for Raja. APPENDIX. 1. The kurs or exogamous groups of the Mikir race are thus given in the Assam Census Report for 1891 (vol. iii. pp. cii.-ciii):-- Main Subdivisions. I. Ingti. II. Terang. III. Teràn. IV. Tumung. V. Inghi or Hengse. I. Subdivisions of Ingti-- 1. Ingle. 4. Kathar. 2. Ingti-Henchek. 5. Tarak or Taro. 3. Ingti-Kiling. II. Subdivisions of Terang-- 1. Be-bonghàng (read 6. Kro-Jingthong. Be-Ronghàng). 7. Kro-ghoria. 2. Be-Jingthong. 8. Lilipo-kro. 3. Injai. 9. Rongbijiya. 4. Kro. 10. Tarang. 5. Kro-bonghàng (read 11. Teràng. Kro-Ronghàng). III. Subdivisions of Teràn-- 1. Ai. 4. Milik. 2. Kangkàt. 5. Tarap. 3. Làngle. IV. Subdivisions of Tumung-- 1. Benar-pator. 5. Rongphar. 2. Chenar. 6. Rongtar [13]-Jungthong. 3. Dera. 7. Takki. 4. Keleng. 8. Tumung-pator. V. Subdivisions of Inghi-- 1. Bonrung. 6. Rongpi. 2. Hànche. 7. Rongchehon. 3. Ke-ap. 8. Tuso. 4. Lekethe. 9. Tutab. 5. Ronghang-ghoria. An attempt is made in the report to translate some of these names, but it appears very doubtful whether the meanings assigned are correct. So far as they go, the explanations show that some of the names (to which an Assamese form has in some cases been given, as in those ending in ghoria) are designations of offices (e.g. Pator, Rongchehon = village watchman), while others are local or place-names. Under I. Ingti, (1) Ingle is evidently Mr. Stack's Inglèng; (4) Kathar is his Katar, (2) [Ingti]-Henchek is his Hènsèk, and (5) Taro his Taro. Under II. Terang, (1 and 2) Be is Mr. Stack's Be, (4, 5, 6, 7) Kro is his Kro, and (3) Injai is probably his Ingjar; the others seem to be either local names (8, Lilipo-kro = Western Kro, Nilip = west; 9, Rongbijiya = inhabitants of some particular village), or duplicates of the group-name Terang (Nos. 10 and 11). Mr. Stack had no group named Teràn. Group IV., Tumung, corresponds to Mr. Stack's Timung; of the subdivisions, 2, Chenar is probably his Sèngnar, 5, Rongphar agrees with his list, and 7, Takki is probably his Tòkbi. Nos. 1 and 8 are explained as office-holders, No. 3 is a place-name, No. 4 is a river (Kiling), and No. 6 seems to be a duplicate of No. 5. Group V., Inghi, corresponds to Mr. Stack's Lèkthe, which occurs as the name of subdivision 4 in the census list; 1, Bonrung, is Mr. Stack's Bòngrun; 2, Hànche, is his Hànse; 8, Tuso, is his Tutso. His Kràmsa is not found in the census list, but occurs, as will be seen below, in other lists. 2. Mr. Dundas, Subdivisional Officer of North Cachar, writing in March 1903, gives the following groups:-- MAIN EXOGAMOUS GROUPS. 1. Inghi. II. Timung. III. Teron. IV. Kathar. V. Be. VI. Injai. I. Inghi has the following subdivisions:-- 1. Rongpi, further subdivided into (a) Rongchaichu, (b) Rongchehòn, (c) Chinthòng, (d) Lindòk. 2. Ronghàng, ,, ,, ,, (a) Hèmpi, (b) Hèmso. 3. Inghi, ,, ,, ,, (a) Hèmpi, (b) Hèmso. 4. Hànse, ,, ,, ,, (a) Durong, (b) Nongkirla, (c) Chinthòng, (d) Kiling. 5. Lèkthe, ,, ,, ,, (a) Keap, (b) Tereng. 6. Bòngrung, ,, ,, ,, (a) Kràmsa, (b) Rongchehòn, (c) Hèmso. 7. Tutso, ,, ,, ,, (a) Motho, (b) Rongphu, (c) Ronghing, (d) Rongchitim, (e) Rongchaichu, (f) Rongchehòn. (Nos. 4, 6, and 7 agree with Mr. Stack's list under Lèkthe, and Mr. Stack's Kràmsa appears as a further subdivision of Bòngrung. As regards the others, the names beginning with Rong may be local village names; Chinthong and Ronghang are the names of great sections of the Mikir population, not of exogamous groups; Hèmpi and Hèmso mean merely "great house" and "little house.") II. Timung (Mr. Stack has the same spelling) comprises-- 1. Timung Lindòk, subdivision (a) Ròngchaichu. 2. Ròngphar, ,, (a) Hèmpi, (b) Hèmso. 3. Chinthong, ,, (a) Seng-ar, (b) Hèmpi, (c) Hèmso. 4. Phàngchu, ,, (a) Juiti, (b) Rongphàng, (c) Hèmpi, (d) Hèmso. 5. Phura, ,, (a) Dili. 6. Tòkbi, ,, (a) Tòksiki. 7. Kiling 8. Meji 9. Pator 10. Lòngteroi 11. Yachi, ,, (a) Hèmpi, (b) Hèmso. 12. Dera, ,, (a) Hèmpi, (b) Hèmso. 13. Ròngpi (Here Nos. 2 and 6 correspond with Mr. Stack's subdivisions, and No. 3 (a), Seng-ar, is his Sengnar; several of the remainder appear to be local names.) III. Teròn comprises-- 1. Làngne, subdivision (a) Ròngchaichu. 2. Kòngkàr, ,, (a) Dengya. 3. Meji 4. Milik, ,, (a) Seràng. 5. Mele 6. Kiling (Mr. Stack has none of these names; but Làngne evidently corresponds to Làngle in the census list, and Kòngkar to Kangkat, while Milik is in both.) IV. Kathar comprises-- 1. Ingti-Kathar 2. Riso 3. Hènsèk 4. Ingti-Kiling 5. Ingling, subdivisions (a) Hèmpi, (b) Hèmso. 6. Ingti-Chinthòng 7. Taro (These names, except Riso, which means "young man," all occur in Mr. Stack's group Ingti. Nos. 4 and 6 are evidently local subdivisions.) V. Be comprises-- 1. Rònghàng 2. Kiling 3. Lindòk 4. Seng-òt 5. Teràng, subdivisions (a) Dili, (b) Rongchaichu. 6. Kuru, ,, (a) Rongchaichu, (b) Nihàng, (c) Nilip. (This group corresponds to Mr. Stack's Teràng; Kuru is his Kro. Subdivisions 1, 2, and 3 are apparently local names.) VI. Injai comprises-- 1. Injai 2. Ing-ar. (Mr. Stack gives Ing-ar as a subdivision of Teràng; the census list also classes Injai under the same main group. Mr. Dundas notes that the Injai may not take a wife from the Be (i.e. Teràng) group, from which it may be concluded that they are really a subdivision of that name, or Teràng.) 3. So far the three lists are in general agreement; but the Rev. Mr. Moore, writing in August 1902, gives what at first sight is an entirely different arrangement. He separates the Mikir people into the following five groups:-- I. E-jàng. II. Tung-e. III. Kròn-e. IV. Lo-e. V. Ni-e. I. E-jàng he subdivides into-- 1. Ròngpi. 6. Kràmsa. 2. Rònghàng. 7. Keap. 3. Tutso. 8. Lèkthe. 4. Hànse. 9. Ròngchehòn. 5. Bòngrung. II. Tung-e comprises-- 1. Timung. 5. Timung-Senar. 2. Tòkbi. 6. Timung-Phàngchu. 3. Timung-Kiling. 7. Timung-Juiti. 4. Timung-Ròngphar. 8. Tòktiphi. III. Kròn-e includes-- 1. Teròn. 3. Teròn-Làngne. 2. Teròn-Kòngkàt. IV. Lo-e is divided into-- 1. Be. 4. Ingjai. 2. Kro. 5. Ingnar. 3. Teràng. V. Ni-e comprises-- 1. Ingti. 3. Taro. 2. Inglèng. Comparing the subdivisions with those given by Mr. Stack, we perceive that five of the nine shown under Mr. Moore's I. E-jàng (Nos. 3, 4, 5, 7, and 8) are identical with Mr. Stack's Lèkthe and its subdivisions; the remaining four (Ròngpi, Rònghàng, Ròngchehòn, and Keap) are all found in the census list of 1891 under Inghi, another name for Lèkthe. Evidently, therefore, E-jàng is the equivalent of Mr. Stack's Lèkthe and the census Inghi. Under II. Tung-e all Mr. Stack's names classed under Timung appear; of the remainder, some are found in Mr. Dundas's list, either of subdivisions or smaller sections, under Timung; Tòktiphi is probably Mr. Dundas's Tòksiki; and Timung-Kiling is the census "Keleng" (a river-name). It is clear, therefore, that Tung-e is the same as the Timung (Tumung) of the other lists. III. Kròn-e is evidently the small group Teròn or Teràn of Mr. Dundas and the census list, not found in Mr. Stack's enumeration. IV. Lo-e is also clearly the Teràng of the three other lists, which account for all the names given under it. V. Ni-e is the equivalent of Mr. Stack's Ingti, called by the same name in the census list, and Kathar in Mr. Dundas's list (the omission of the name Kathar, or Katar, from Mr. Moore's list is somewhat noticeable). It thus appears that all the four lists in reality agree in a remarkable manner, quite independent as they are in their origin, and that all observers concur in stating that the Mikir people are divided into five (or four) great exogamous groups, whether situated in the Mikir Hills, in North Cachar, or in the Khasi Hills and the hilly country to the south of Nowgong. IV. RELIGION. General character of popular belief in ghosts and spirits, and a future life--No idols, temples or shrines--Amulets--The Gods and their worship--Divination and magic--Oaths and imprecations--Funeral ceremonies--Festivities--Taboo. BELIEFS ABOUT THE DEAD. The Mikirs have borrowed from the Hindu Assamese the ideas and the names of Boikuntho (Vaikuntha, Vishnu's Paradise) and Nòròk (Naraka, Hell); but these conceptions do not play much part in their views of a life to come. Better known, and more often mentioned, is Jòm Recho (Jam, Yama Raja), the Lord of Spirits, with whom the dead remain below ground. His abode--the abode of the dead--is Jòm-aròng, [14] and the elaborate ceremonies of the funeral are the means by which the spirit of the dead gains admittance to Jòm's city. Unless they are duly performed he remains outside. They speak of having seen the shade (image, arjàn) of a dead man (ne la arjàn thèklòk, "I saw his shade"); a sickly man catches such glimpses in the house, on the road, etc. Pharlo, spirit, is used both of living persons and dead. Tove ne-pharlo ne la-abàng thèk-lòng, "Last night in my spirit I saw him"; where pharlo is the spirit of the sleeping man. When such glimpses are experienced, betel and food are set aside in the house, and after a time thrown away. On a death occurring, the old women of the village wash and lay out the body. Then one composes a chant, setting forth the parentage and life of the dead: "You will now meet your grand-parents, father, deceased brother, etc., and will stay with them and eat with them." Then a separate meal of rice and a boiled egg is placed beside the body, and the dead man is invited to eat. This is done twice a day, the meal being cooked separately from the food of the family. After being offered and placed beside the corpse for a time, the food is thrown away. This goes on day by day until the funeral service is held (see below). After that there are no regular offerings, but occasionally a man or woman puts aside from his or her own share of food a portion for the dead, as, for instance, when another funeral reminds them of those who have died before. There does not appear to be any fear of the dead coming back to trouble the living. Some people, however, it is said, are afraid to pass the burying-place of the dead after dark. They say that a man called Thi-rèng Vàng-rèng (literally, "Dead-alive come-alive") in former times used to travel between this world and Jòm Recho's abode; he taught them their funeral ceremonies. At last he did not come back. Everything is different in Jòm-aròng. Thirèng Vàngrèng saw the people there go out to fish, and gather instead pieces of stick. They asked him why he did not gather them too; he answered that they were not fish, but sticks. They waved over them a lighted brand, and he saw them as fish. So, too, there a crab becomes a tiger, or seems to be a tiger. Men do not stay in Jòm Recho's city for ever, but are born again as children, and this goes on indefinitely (here we seem to have a borrowing from Hinduism). "The Mikirs give the names of their dead relations to children born afterwards, and say that the dead have come back; but they believe that the spirit is with Jòm all the same." [15] A man with unusually keen and alarming eyes is said to be possessed by a demon (hi-i). The phrase is ahi-i kedo arlèng, and, of the eyes, amèk ahi-i kedo. But the superstition of the evil eye, as prevalent elsewhere, seems to be unknown, and such a man is not avoided; rather, the hi-i is supposed to give him cleverness. The same phrase is used in familiar abuse to a child: Ahi-i kedo oso, "You devil-possessed brat!" RELIGION--DIVINITIES. The Mikirs have no idols, temples, or shrines. Some people, however, have fetishes or amulets, called bòr. These are pieces of stone or metal, by keeping which they become rich. Sometimes, however, a man unwittingly keeps a bòr that brings him ill-luck and loss. A man is said to have got a bòr, bòr kelòng; Bòr do-kòkle, plàng-ple-ji ma? "If you have got a bòr, will you not become rich?" Bòrs are not common; one gets them by chance in river, field, or jungle. Or a man dreams that he can get a bòr in such a place, and finds it there. But these amulets are not objects of worship or propitiation. The Gods--Arnàm-atum--are innumerable, and are worshipped in different ways, at different times, and in different places. The names of some of the most important are given below. Arnàm Kethe, in spite of his name, which means "The Great God," has no definite authority over the other Gods. He is a house-god, and is sacrificed to once in three years, if no occasion (in consequence of trouble) arises meanwhile. His appropriate offering is a pig. The family obtain Arnàm Kethe by asking him to stay with them, and by castrating a young pig, to be sacrificed three years later. All families have not got Arnàm Kethe to stay with them, nor does he always come when invited. If a man is sick, and the uche (diviner) declares that Arnàm Kethe wishes to join the household, the ceremony is performed, but no offerings are made at the time. After three years--or earlier, if there is any sickness in the family--the pig is killed, and a general feast, with rice, beer, and spirits, given to the village. A booth of leaves is built in the three days before; the first day is devoted to cutting the posts for the booth, and is called phòng-ròng ketèng; the second, to garlanding leaves round the posts, called phòng-ròng ketòm; and on the third day leaves are laid out for the rice, rice-flour (pithaguri, Ass.) is sprinkled about the ground, and plantains and other trees are planted around the booth. All these preparations are done in the early morning before eating. Then follows the ceremony--Arnàm Kethe karakli. First, there is the invocation: "To-day has come, and now we will give you your three-years' offering; accept it kindly!" Fowls are killed, and then the pig (all animals killed in sacrifice are beheaded with one stroke of a heavy knife delivered from above). The liver, heart, and lights of both are cooked for the god. Then the hoof, ear, and tail of the pig are offered, then pieces of cooked meat. Afterwards the sacrificers eat tekar kethi or tekar-so, then tekar-pi. Both are pieces of flesh, the first smaller, the latter larger, eaten with rice-beer. Then all the company set to and eat rice and flesh together. Sometimes three or four pigs and forty different kinds of vegetables are consumed at the sacrificial feast. The women get sixfold or ninefold the shares of the men, and carry them home bound up in leaves (àn-bòr and òk-bòr). Pèng is also a household god. His offering is a goat, sacrificed yearly, in the tikup or space before the house. Some neighbours are invited to the sacrificial feast. Pèng lives in the house, Arnàm Kethe in heaven. Pèng is also sacrificed to in sickness. Very few houses have not Pèng. Maize, rice, and a gourd of rice-beer are placed for him above the veranda of the house, and the firstfruits of the harvest are offered to him. "But these two gods only come to eat, and families avoid taking them if they can." Hèmphu ("head of the house," "householder") owns all the Mikir people. Everybody can sacrifice to him at any time, and pray for deliverance from sickness. Mukràng is similar to Hèmphu but slightly lower in dignity. These two gods, the preservers of men, are approached by the sacrifice of a fowl or goat. Hèmphu must be invoked first in every sacrifice, being the peculiar owner of men. Rèk-ànglòng ("the mountain of the community") or Inglòng-pi ("great mountain") is a house-god, but is worshipped in the field, and only men eat the sacrifice, which is a fowl or a goat once a year. He is the god of the hill they live on, the Deus loci, with whom they have to be at peace; but not every family in the village need have him. Arnàm paro ("the hundred god") is the name of a god who takes a hundred shares of rice, pithaguri, betel-nut, and the red spathe of the plantain tree cut up. He is worshipped with a white goat or a white fowl as the sacrifice. He and Rèk-ànglòng figure particularly in the Ròngker, or great annual village festival, celebrated in June at the beginning of the year's cultivation. (Arnàm-paro seems to be a collective name, to include all gods whom it may concern. Kamakhya, the Hindu goddess of Nilachal above Gauhati, is mentioned as one of the deities included in Arnàm-paro.) The gods named above are all invoked and propitiated to grant prosperity and avert misfortune, both generally and specially. There are, besides, numerous gods who take their names from the special diseases over which they preside or which they are asked to avert; such are-- Chomàng-ase ("Khasi fever"), a Khasi god, who lives in the house and is propitiated with a goat; he is comparatively rare. This god appears to be identical with Keche-ase, which is the rheumatism. (Chomàng is the name for the interior Khasis, Keche for those immediately in contact with the Mikirs.) Ajo-ase ("the night fever") is the deity of cholera (ma-vur or pòk-avur). The sacrifice to him is two fowls and many eggs, and is offered at night, on the path outside the village. The whole village subscribes to furnish the offering, and with the eatables are combined a load of cotton, a basket of chillies, an offering of yams, and the image of a gun (because cholera is thought to be a British disease); also sesamum (nèmpo), many bundles consisting of six sticks of a soft wood called chèknàm (perhaps the cotton tree, bombax) tied together, many bundles of the false cane (ingsu), and double wedges of chèknàm wood. The god is invoked: "Don't come this way, go that way!" The eatables are eaten, and the other articles thrown away. The houses are then beaten with rods of chèknàm and ingsu. So-meme ("evil pain") is the god to whom barren women have recourse. Recurring sicknesses and troubles are ascribed to Thèng-thòn or Òk-làngno, a devil (hi-i); he is propitiated with a goat and a pig, or two or three fowls. A man gasping in sickness is being strangled by Thèng-thòn. If, notwithstanding invocations of the gods, sickness grows worse, a sacrifice is offered to Thèng-thòn without summoning the diviner or sàng-kelàng-abàng. Mr. Stack gives the following as the names of the chief diseases (besides those already mentioned), the averting of which forms the main object of worship: goitre, phun-kàng ("swollen throat"); phthisis, si-i (also cough); stone, ingthàk; diarrhoea, pòk-kàngsi; rheumatism, keche-ase ("Khasi fever"); neuralgia, bàb ase; small-pox, pi-amir ("the Mother's flowers"); black leprosy, si-i; white leprosy, aròk; elephantiasis, kèng-tòng (kèng, leg; ingtòng, funnel-shaped basket); dysentery, pòk kapavi ("bleeding of belly"). The house-gods come down in the family; no others would be sacrificed to if the family were uniformly prosperous. All natural objects of a striking or imposing character have their divinity. The sun (arni) and moon (chiklo) are regarded as divine, but are not specially propitiated. But localities of an impressive kind, such as mountains, [16] waterfalls, deep pools in rivers, great boulders, have each their arnàm, who is concerned in the affairs of men and has to be placated by sacrifice. The expression arnàm do, used of a place, means, generally, to be haunted by something felt as mighty or terrible. All waterfalls (làngsun), in particular, have their arnàms. In Baguri mauza there are two great waterfalls in the Diyaung river which are specially venerated as divine; one of these, the Làng-kàngtòng ("Rolling-down water"), can be heard half a day's journey off. Similarly, there are places where a river goes underground (làng-lut); these also have their arnàm. [17] Such local divinities of the jungle are propitiated chiefly to avert mischief from tigers, which are a terrible plague in many parts of the Mikir hills. There is no worship of trees or animals. Làm-aphu, "the head or master of words," is a deity probably of recent origin. He is the god sacrificed to by a man who has a case in court; the sacrifice is one young cock, which should be offered at night, secretly, by the sacrificer alone, in a secret place. It should be mentioned that, following an ill-sounding idiom of the Assamese, the Mikirs use "Arnàm" as a common (propitiatory) form of address to human beings (Assamese, deuta). Po-arnàm-po ("god-father") to a man, and pe-arnàm-pi ("god-mother") to a woman, are the phrases. In one of the stories given in the next Section, the king is addressed as Hèmphu Arnàm, "Lord God." DIVINATION AND MAGIC. Sickness, if long continued or severe, is frequently attributed to witchcraft (maja). A man suffering from long sickness is said to be maja kelòng--"witchcraft has got hold of him." To discover the author of the spell, or the god or demon who has brought the trouble and must be propitiated, the services of a diviner are necessary. Uche, feminine uche-pi (Hindi, ojhà), is the general name for the cunning in such things. Of these there are two grades--the humbler, whose craft is acquired merely by instruction and practice, and the higher, who works under the inspiration or afflatus of divine powers. The former is the sàng-kelàng abàng, "the man who looks at rice," in Assamese, mangalsua; the latter, invariably a woman, is the lodèt or lodèt-pi. In serious sickness or distress the latter is called in; on ordinary and less important occasions, the former. The sàng-kelàng abàng picks out of the pot the unbroken grains of rice (sàng), and places them, by fives and tens, in pentacle or other fashion. He then counts by couples. If in the groups the odd numbers predominate, the omen is good. If there are no odd grains over, it is very bad. Then all are swept together again, and arranged in three or four heaps. Each heap is counted out, a god being named, and if after the counting, again by couples, three single grains remain, the god named is the one to be propitiated. If three grains do not remain, the process is tried over again. Cowries (chobai) are sometimes used instead of rice in the same way. Also, with cowries a handful is taken and spread out, and the number with the slits upwards counted; if they are the majority, the omen is good. [18] Another mode of divination used by the mangalsua is to arrange in a circle, equidistant from a point marked on a board (inghoi), as many little heaps of clay as there are gods suspected in the case, each heap being called by the name of its god. An egg is then sharply thrown into the middle of the board at the marked point. When it breaks and the yolk is scattered, that clay heap which receives the largest splash of yolk, or towards which the largest and longest splash points, indicates the god responsible for the affliction. [19] Another mode is to use the nòk-jir, which is a long-handled iron dao with a cross-piece at the handle and two inclined projecting pieces higher up, before the blade, thus:-- This is held upright in the hand. It shakes of itself when the charm is recited and the nòk-jir invoked to become inspired: Nàng uché vàng-phlòt! "Let your spirit (uché) come!" The holder asks whether the sick person will recover, and goes over the names of the possibly responsible gods, and the nòkjir shakes at the right answer and name. The charm (the Assamese word montro is used) recites the making of the nòkjir, and ends--"if you tell lies, you will be broken up and made into needles" (--the lowest use to which iron can be put, to sew women's petticoats!). [20] The Lodèt is an ordinary woman (not belonging to any particular family or kur), who feels the divine afflatus, and, when it is upon her, yawns continually and calls out the names and the will of the gods. Another lodètpi is summoned in to question her, and ascertain if her possession is really divine; a sàng-kelàng abàng may also be consulted. If the report is favourable, a purificatory offering of a fowl is made to Hèmphu and Mukràng, the preservers of men, and the woman is accepted as a lodètpi. She sits by the bewitched person (maja-kelòng), and the neighbours come in after supper. The lodètpi bathes her hands and feet and face in water in which the tulsi plant (Ocymum sanctum, holy basil) has been steeped, and begins to shake and yawn. A gourd of rice-beer is brought, of which she drinks some, and begins to call out the names of gods, and they descend upon her. She is now inspired, and when questioned indicates, by indirect and riddling answers, the enemy who has bewitched the sufferer, or the gods who must be sacrificed to. When this is ascertained she goes away. The accusation of practising witchcraft is carried before the me or village assembly. The sacrifice to placate the gods proceeds next day, and is usually costly. To bewitch a person, it is necessary to have some of his hair, or a piece of his clothes; these are buried with one egg, some bones, and some charcoal. A good lodètpi can produce these things by the power of her inspiration. A white cloth is tied up into the shape of a bag. She conjures the things into it, and on opening the bag next morning they are found inside. When they are thus recovered, the spirit (karjòng) of the sufferer returns with them, and he gets well. Charms (pherèm) are much used for medicinal purposes, either alone or in combination with other remedies. For an ordinary stomach-ache (pòk-keso), a little mud rubbed on the abdomen, with a muttered charm, is the specific. For rheumatism (keche-ase), a castor-oil leaf is struck on the place, and a charm muttered; if this fails, a sacrifice must be offered to the god Keche-ase. The worker of these remedial measures is called kàngtòk abàng, and the verb is ingtòk. Charms are not, as a rule, carried on the person. The expression vur kachethat, "to kill for oneself (a fowl) for disease," means to prevent evil by sacrifice after a dream which had previously been followed by mischance. If a child does not thrive, it is imputed to the sin, or devil (ahi-i) of the maternal uncle (òng), or, if there is no maternal uncle, of one of the child's mother's kur. The family apply to the person held to be responsible, and he gives a brass ring to be hung round the child's neck, and a rice-ball (àn adum). There is no entertaining of friends on recovery from sickness. The sick person is tended by his wife and relations. Tekere, Thekere, means a man who knows a spell or montro, especially one which protects him against tigers (tèke). OATHS AND ORDEALS. Oaths and imprecations take the place of ordeals. Earth is put on the head, and the man says--"May I be like this dust!" A tiger's tooth is scraped, and the scrapings drunk in water: "May the tiger eat me!" Similarly, an elephant's tusk is scraped, and the scrapings drunk: "May the elephant trample me to death!" (Ingnar ne pedòng-nàng!) The copper ring worn by the uche is dipped in water, and the water drunk, the man saying, "May the tiger catch me!" Another form of oath is Tàmhitni kàngjir asòntòt ne pàngjir-nàng, "May I be melted like molten copper (or pot-metal)!" Such oaths are used to confirm promises, and also to attest evidence and proclaim innocence of a charge. FUNERAL CEREMONIES. The funeral is the most elaborate, costly, and important of all the ceremonies performed by the Mikirs. Such ceremonies are considered obligatory in all cases except that of a child who has been born dead, or who has died before the after-birth has left the mother; such a child is buried without any ceremony. Victims of small-pox or cholera are buried shortly after death, but the funeral service is performed for them later on, the bones being sometimes dug up and duly cremated. When a person is killed by a tiger, if the body or clothes are found, they are buried at a distance from the village, because the tiger is supposed to visit the burial-place. Such persons cannot gain admittance to Jòm-aròng unless there are elaborate funeral ceremonies performed for them. Being killed by a tiger is generally imputed to the victim's sin. His spirit is believed to dwell in the most dreary of the places where dead men's spirits go; there is no notion (such as is found among some races in India) that it animates the tiger who killed him. Except in these cases the dead are disposed of by cremation, the burnt bones being afterwards buried. The elaborateness of the funeral depends on the means of the family. The description which follows applies to a case where the household is well-to-do. In any case the body is kept in the house for one day after death; if a regular service is held, it may lie as long as from a week to twelve days. The body lies in the kut. The persons occupied with the funeral ceremonies live in the hòng-pharla; the rest of the family cook and eat in the kàm, but the officiants, male and female, must go across a stream or creek to cook and eat. As already mentioned, the old women of the family wash and lay out the corpse. Then beer is prepared, rice husked and got ready, and a convenient day fixed for the service. If the house has not a big enough hòng (front platform), the neighbours join and build one on to it. From the date of the death, each household in the village gives a man to sleep in the house (in the hòng-pharla). When it is settled that the beer and rice required can be provided in four or five days, the village lads are summoned about 8 o'clock in the evening. They bring their drum (chèng), and drum up to the tikup (front yard); they drum there awhile, and then, while one keeps time with the drum, dance by pairs, holding in their left hands shields (chòng-kechèngnàn), and in their right hands sticks. They go round twice in a circle; then they all dance round, holding each the other's hands (this is called chomàng-kàn, "Khasi dance"). After an hour spent in this way they go back to the gaonbura's house to sleep. Early next morning they come without beat of drum, and dance the chomàng-kàn to the drum; they then dance the shield-dance as before (chòng-kechèngnàn) to the drum, and go home. Next night they come as before, but a little later, and go through the same ceremonies. Next morning they proceed as before, and in the usual course they kill a fowl and roast it in pieces on spits in the tikup, and eat it there. The third and last night is that of the kàn-pi ("great dance"). Meantime, during the day, the risomar have to work at getting ready the tèle--the stout bamboo to which the corpse is to be slung: the bànjar--a bamboo ornamented with curled shavings (bu) hung in tufts to projecting arms; and the seroso--shorter bamboo sticks similarly ornamented and tipped with leaves. The men have to go to the theri (village burning-place) and prepare there a chang or platform, with logs for burning the body arranged under it; this chang is built in a peculiar manner, known only to adepts. The uchepi (a skilled old woman) is summoned to prepare the viaticum for the dead, and the duhuidi, with an assistant, who beat the two drums which have now been hung up in the kàm-athèngthòt: the duhuidi is one skilled in tolling on these drums. Then comes the girl called obòkpi (not necessarily a maid), that is, the "carrier" of the dead man; but in place of the dead she carries on her back a gourd for holding beer; she must belong to his mother's kur. Also the nihu, the maternal uncle or other male representative of the mother's kur, and the ingjir-arlo, sister's husband, or father's sister's husband, of the deceased; it is his office to kill the goat for the dead, if they can afford one. About midnight the villagers, with torches, drums, and the attendant risomar, assemble in the tikup. The neighbouring villages, if so minded, may come too (aròng ari is the phrase for the contingents as they arrive). Each contingent is welcomed with the drum, and joins in the drumming concert; the lads and girls are dressed in their best, and provided with betel. The chief of the village lads (klèng-sarpo) then calls the other risomar to touch (not taste) the beer, hòr kacheme. [21] Then follows the shield-dance, first by the risomar of the village, then by the outside contingents in order of arrival or merit. Then all together take hands and dance in a circle. The young women join in the line, taking hold of the lads' coats, while the lads take hold of them by the belt (vànkòk); the girls cover their heads and faces with a black scarf (jiso ke-ik): the petticoat is a red-striped Mikir eri cloth. Near the first cock-crow, seven young men go up on the hòng or house-platform from the dancing, with the duhuidi and his assistant; one lad goes in and dances in the inside of kàm, in the space by the partition-wall (nòksèk), while the six others stand at the door (hòngthu, or inghàp àngho = "door's mouth"), and dance there. The six whoop three times together as they dance. After a quarter of an hour they return to the circle of dancers in the tikup. At dawn they go up again, and dance till sunrise. The circle breaks up at daylight, and then follows the shield-dance. Then all the drums go round the circle where they dance ten to twenty times, playing a different tune each time. Then, while they all drum standing, a pig is brought forth, tied up for killing. The risomar in successive parties recount over the tied-up pig the history of the funeral service; this is called phàk aphu kacholàng. Then the pig is killed and cut up for the risomar, and for the men engaged in the funeral service. The latter have to cook and eat their shares of the meat, which is given in leaf-bundles (òk-bòr) or on spits (òk-kròn), beyond the river. The risomar also get their shares in the same way, and cook them in the dancing-ring. A small piece of flesh is cooked by the uchepi for the dead man, and this is put in the plate of the dead and carried by the ingjir-arlo up to the body in the kut, the duhuidi tolling the drum as he goes in; this ceremony is called kasole. Meantime the old experienced men, braving the horrid stench, have been performing certain rites [22] about the body. The remainder of the cooked flesh, with rice, is distributed to the young girls. The risomar then, provided with rice, beer, salt, chillies, and greens from the dead man's house, disperse to houses in the village to eat, and the officiants go off beyond the river to prepare and eat their food. This part of the ceremony is called riso kachiru, "the lads' entertainment." Then two or three of the risomar take a cock on the road to the burning-place, and kill, cook, and eat it there. A small pig is killed by the other lads where they dance, and the head and one leg are sent to the road-side risomar. The blood is caught in a bamboo-joint, and smeared on the bànjar, which is set up in the road like a maypole; it is a thick bamboo about seven feet long, with sticks projecting on three sides, from which hang tassels of curled bamboo shavings (bànjar abu) These shavings also are smeared with the blood, so as to look like flowers. Six shorter pieces of bamboo, three feet long, also ornamented with tufts of shavings, are called serosos, and these too are smeared with blood: likewise the tèle for carrying the corpse to the pyre. Six young men, each taking a seroso, dance round the bànjar. The uchepi has now prepared all the food. The obòkpi takes the beer-gourd on her back, and one egg in her hand, and the uchepi a beer-gourd, and they break the egg and the gourd against the tèle as it lies upon the house-ladder (dòndòn). The duhuidi tolls the drum, and dancing as before takes place on the hòng and in the kàm, but not with the serosos. The uchepi and the obòkpi then go on to the burning-place. The tèle is now taken up by the old men into the house, and the corpse tied to it and brought down; all the dead man's clothes are hung over the bamboo. Then a pair of ducks and another of pigeons are killed by the nihu, and a goat by the ingjir-arlo, each previously going thrice round the dancing circle with the sun. The goat is called hòngvàt-abi; the heads are thrown to the risomar, the rest of the meat kept and cooked later on by those who remain. Preceded by the duhuidi and his assistant tolling the drums, they all march in procession, carrying the bànjar and serosos, to the burning-place. The body is untied from the tèle and placed on the pyre, which is lighted. While the pyre is burning, knowing women sing the kacharhe--a chant describing the dead man's life, whither he is going on leaving this earth, how he will see his dead relations, and the messages he has to carry to them. A few of the lads dance while the cremation is proceeding. The body is thoroughly burnt, and the bones that remain are tied up in a cloth and buried. The tèle is either laid down whole or cut into three pieces, which are split again into six, and placed in the little house which is then erected over the grave. This is built with the bànjar and the serosos, the former being in the middle and the latter used as props for the roof. The food prepared by the uchepi is now placed on a flat stone over the grave, and the ceremony is at an end. The company, returning, clean and wash the house, and cook and eat and drink on the hòng. On coming back from the cremation, the nihu gets some money, clothes, salt, and a knife. He shares the salt with his own kur, if any are present. The ingjir-arlo next morning has to clean up the dancing ring (ròng-ru kàngru, or tikup karkòk). The ceremonies of the funeral are performed by the neighbours and cunning men and women of the village, and the old people of the family. The wife, children, parents, brothers and sisters of the dead sit beside him and mourn, in spite of corruption, or even sleep beside the decomposing corpse. "It is genuine grief, a national characteristic. Even after the funeral service, they remember and mourn; and the death of another renews their grief." The mourners continue their lamentation, heedless of the dancing. If a great man, such as a mauzadar (bikhoya) or leading gaonbura (sarlar, sarthe), dies, in addition to the ceremonial described above, there is another, called Làngtuk ("the well"). A well or pit is dug outside the village, four-square, with sides ten to fifteen feet: it need not be carried down to the water; stairs are made to the bottom. At the corners are planted various trees. A tall upright stone (lòng-chòng) and a broad flat stone (lòng-pàk), supported on short uprights, are brought and set up, as in the Khasi hills. The risomar come and dance there the whole day, with manifold apparatus. The uchepi sings and places food of different kinds on the flat stone for the dead man; his clothes and umbrella are put upon the tall stone, with flowers. A fowl is killed for the well at the bottom of the pit, and a goat, two ducks, and two pigeons are killed at the top, and their heads thrown to the risomar. Then the people of thirty to forty villages assemble. The uchepi sings extemporaneously before the memorial stone, and the people dance and eat there until dark. After dark the company go to the house and perform the usual service already described. The làngtuk is very costly, for people have to be fed at two places, and double the quantity of food for an ordinary funeral has to be provided. FESTIVITIES. The Ròngker is the annual compulsory village festival, held at the time of the beginning of cultivation (June), or in some villages during the cold season. Goats and fowls are sacrificed. Arnàm-paro gets a goat, and so do the local gods of hills and rivers. A small village will sacrifice two or three goats, a large village ten or twelve. The flesh of the victims is eaten, with rice and rice-beer, but only men can partake of the sacrifice. They must sleep on the hòng apart from their wives that night. The gods are invoked in the following terms: "We live in your district: save us and help us! send no tigers or sickness, prosper our crops and keep us in good health, and year by year we will sacrifice like this. We depend wholly upon you!" There is no music or dancing at the Ròngker. At harvest-home there is no sacrifice, but the whole village help mutually in getting the crops in, and feast together on rice and beer, and dried fish and dried flesh saved up against this celebration, or fresh fish if procurable. No animals are killed, except in some houses a fowl, lest the paddy brought home should decrease; this fowl is eaten. On this occasion there is a little dancing on the hòng, but with this exception music and dancing take place only at funerals. Occasionally there is a Ròngker-pi ("great Ròngker") for the whole mauza, as, for instance, to expel man-eating tigers. Each village, headed by its gaonbura, brings its contribution to the great sacrifice, and repairs to the mauzadar's or bor-gaonbura's house, where the feast is celebrated. Mr. Stack's notes do not mention the observance by the Mikirs of general tabus, called in Assamese genna, such as are common among the Naga tribes; [23] but personal tabus of various kinds, entailing separate eating of food and abstinence from commerce of the sexes, have already been indicated. Women during menstruation are said to be unclean and unable to touch the cooking-pots. V. FOLK-LORE AND FOLK-TALES. Three Mikir stories--Legend of creation (Mr. Allen). The Mikirs are fond of telling stories, but the historical material which they contain does not appear to be of very ancient date. Reference has already been made to the deliverance of the Arlengs from slavery to the Khasis, and their contests with the Kacharis under the leadership of Thòng-Nòkbe; also to their early relations with the Ahoms. They have also myths dealing with the creation of the earth and man, one of which has been related by Mr. Allen, of the American Presbyterian Mission, and will be found in the Appendix to this Section; it seems doubtful, however, whether it is a genuine legend, or due to imagination stimulated by questions: the concluding episode strongly resembles the Biblical story of the Tower of Babel. These legends have not been handled by Mr. Stack, and are therefore not reproduced here. The Rev. Mr. Moore notes that "Mikir stories in general do not agree very minutely," and this appears to be particularly the case in respect of tales of the intervention of the gods in human affairs. Mr. Stack wrote down, chiefly from the dictation of a Mikir named Sardoka, who had become a Christian, a number of excellent stories, which well deserve separate publication. Three specimens of these are given here. They correspond in every respect, as will be seen, with the general characteristics of folk-literature all over the world. Folk-tales containing the same incidents, as is well known, are found from Iceland to Japan, from Alaska to Patagonia. The original source of such a tale is now incapable of identification. The same sequence of events and general form recur everywhere; what is distinctive and characteristic is not the progress of incident, but the local dressing, the narrator's point of view, the colour of his daily life which he lends to the details of the story. The first of the three specimens is the favourite Indian form of a sequence, well known in Sanskrit literature, but quite as popular in Europe and in general folk-lore. It is given here, because another version of the same narrative has been included by Dr. Grierson in his Linguistic Survey, vol. iii. Part III. p. 223, as found among the Aimol Kukis, a race of Tibeto-Burmans dwelling, far away from the Mikir country, in the hills bordering the valley of Manipur on the east. The second specimen tells of the adventures of an orphan, the son of a widow, a stock figure in Mikir folk-tales, and abounds in local colour. Here too the incidents in part coincide with those of a folk-tale belonging to a very distant country, the part of Kumaon bordering on Tibet, which will be found in vol. iii, Part I. of the Linguistic Survey, pp. 483, 495, 510, 522. The third is a remarkably complete and interesting version of the wide-spread folk-tale of the Swan-maidens. It was most probably derived from some Indian source, though, so far as known, no version of the tale in its entirety, as told by Hindus, has yet been published. The name of the hero, Harata-Kunwar, may be the Indian Sarat-Kumar, and is evidently not Mikir. But all the setting--the colloquies of the six brothers and their father, the attempt on Harata-Kunwar's life, his methods in defeating his treacherous kinsmen, his device for winning his fairy wife, and many other features of the story--seems genuinely local. The narrative is an excellent specimen of Mikir diction, and shows no little skill in composition. In vol. iii. Part II. of the Linguistic Survey, there will be found, at pp. 218-220, a short story, entitled, "How Jesu got a goddess for his wife," which is identical in motive with this tale of Harata-Kunwar. It is current among the Angami Nagas, a race much less influenced by Hindu culture than the Mikirs. The original Mikir text of these tales will be found in the next Section; the English translation here given is as literal as it was possible to make it. In the Linguistic Survey, vol. iii. Part II. pp. 395-403, two other short stories of the same character, both text and translation, have been printed. The second of these, the story of the clever swindler Tèntòn, evidently belongs to the cycle of tales called Tenton-Charit, mentioned, in its Assamese version, as existing in manuscript by Mr. E. A. Gait, at page 68 of his Report on the Progress of Historical Research in Assam, 1897. 1. STORY OF A FROG. One day a big black ant went to carry a meal of rice to his uncle. A frog sat down in the road and blocked it. The ant said, "Please make way for me, frog; I want to carry this rice to my uncle." The frog answered, "You can get by if you creep under me. Every one has to pass under me who goes this way." The ant said, "My uncle's rice is tied up in a bundle of leaves; how can I possibly creep under you?" But the frog would not give way, so the ant would not go. In this manner things went on till noon. Then the ant said, "Oh, my uncle will be hungry for his rice and angry with me because he does not get it!" And he crept under the frog. Then the frog sat down flat on the top of the ant. Thereupon the ant gave the frog a sharp bite in the loins. Then the frog, becoming angry, jumped on the ladder of a big old squirrel, and broke it. The old squirrel, becoming angry, cut in two the stem of a gourd. [24] The gourd, becoming angry, fell plump on the back of a wild boar. The wild boar, becoming angry, rooted up a plantain-tree. The plantain-tree, becoming angry, fell upon a sparrow's [25] nest and broke it. The sparrow, becoming angry, flew into the ear of a deaf elephant. The deaf elephant, becoming angry, rooted up a rock. The rock, becoming angry, rolled down and killed the Raja's son. Then the Raja held a court to try the case. "Who is it that killed my son?" "Oh, the rock rolled down and killed him," they said. So they summoned the rock. "O rock, rock! why did you roll down and slay my son?" The rock answered, "Oh, Lord God King! how was I to help rolling down and killing him? The deaf elephant uprooted me on a sudden from my place, and then gave me a push. As for me, I have no hands or legs; how then could I withstand him? Your son being in the way where I was rolling down, I rolled upon him and killed him." Then the Raja said, "Oh, then that deaf elephant was the cause of all this trouble," and summoned the elephant. "O elephant, elephant! what did you root up the rock for?" The elephant answered, "Oh! how could I help uprooting it, Lord God? The sparrow flew into my ear, and I lost all control of myself, and so I tore up the rock." Then the Raja said, "Oh, then that sparrow was the cause of it all," and summoned the sparrow. "O sparrow, sparrow! why did you fly into the elephant's ear?" The sparrow answered, "Oh, Lord, how could I help it? The plantain-stalk fell upon my nest and smashed it, and being very disturbed in mind, I flew into the elephant's ear." Then the Raja said, "Oh! then that plantain-tree was the cause of the trouble," and called the plantain. "O plantain, plantain! what did you tumble on the sparrow's nest and smash it for?" The plantain answered, "Oh, how could I help it, Lord God? The wild boar tore me up out of the ground, and I had no root left at all. How was I to go on standing in my place? I have neither hands nor feet." "Oh! then that pig was the cause of it all," the Raja said, and summoned the pig. "O pig, pig! what did you tear up the plantain for?" The pig answered, "How could I help it? As I was feeding quietly by myself, the gourd fell plump on my back. I was in great pain, and therefore tore up the plantain tree." Then the king said, "Oh, the gourd caused all this trouble," and summoned the gourd. "O gourd, gourd! what did you tumble on the wild boar's back for?" "How was I to help it, Lord God? The squirrel cut through my stem. I have neither hands nor feet, nothing but a stalk; if that is cut through, I cannot but fall. So I was obliged to tumble on the wild boar's back." Then the Raja said, "Oh, that squirrel caused all the mischief," and summoned the squirrel. "O squirrel, squirrel! what did you cut through the stem of the gourd for?" The squirrel answered, "Oh, how could I help it, Lord God? The frog jumped on my ladder and broke it. Then I had no road to get out, and I had to cut the stalk of the gourd." The Raja said, "Oh, then that frog caused the mischief," and summoned the frog. "O frog, frog! what did you jump on the squirrel's ladder and break it for?" The frog answered, "How was I to help it? A big black ant bit me sharply in the loins, and with the pain of the bite, not knowing what I was doing, I jumped on the squirrel's ladder and broke it." Again the Raja said, "Oh, it was the ant that caused all the trouble," and summoned the ant. "O ant, ant! what did you bite the frog in the loins for?" The ant said, "How could I help biting him? In the morning I was carrying my uncle's rice along the road. The frog sat down and blocked the way. I said, 'Please make room for me to pass.' 'Creep under me,' said he. I crept under him, and he sat down tight on the top of me. That was why I bit his loins." Then said the king, "You are both of you guilty." They tied the ant fast with a hair from a man's head; so now his waist is very small. The frog they beat severely with a stinging-nettle, [26] so now he is spotty all over. 2. STORY OF AN ORPHAN AND HIS UNCLES. Once upon a time a widow woman had an only son. His mother had six brothers. One day at evening his uncles said to the orphan, "Nephew, let us go and set up a fish-trap." [27] So the orphan went with them. Then the six brothers, his uncles, having built a good weir up-stream, set the trap. The orphan, having put together a few stones down-stream, below his uncle's trap-weir, set his own trap carelessly in the middle of them, and returned home. The next morning they all came to look at their traps. The uncles' trap, though very well put together, had not caught so much as a cray-fish; as for the orphan's trap, it was quite full of fish. Then the uncles said, "Nephew, we will set up our trap here; do you go down-stream and set up your trap again." Then, after the uncles had set up their trap in the orphan's trap-weir, the orphan again set up his trap downstream. But again the fish entered it just in the same way; while not one fish had got into the uncles' trap, the orphan's trap was quite full of fish. Every morning the uncles continued to take for themselves the place where the orphan's trap had been. At last the orphan, becoming very tired of continually setting up his trap in a different place, one morning, instead of fixing the trap in the stream, placed it on a clump of grass and left it there. Next morning his uncles came and called to the orphan: "Nephew, let us go and look at the traps." The orphan answered, "For my part, I have not set up my trap at all; nevertheless I will go with you as your companion." So saying, he went with them. Then he went to look at his trap, and found that a wood-pigeon had got inside it. He tied this wood-pigeon with a noose and brought it home. That orphan had one calf; you could not imagine how fat and sleek it was. His uncles, being unable through envy to look at that calf, killed it. Then the orphan, having taken off the calf's skin, took one leg and secretly hid it in the house of a rich brahman who lived at a distance. Then the orphan said, "Oh! how strongly the house smells of cow's flesh!" The brahman, becoming angry, said, "May a tiger eat you, you wicked boy! [28] How should there be any cow's flesh here? I am a brahman--produce it, if you can: if you cannot, I will take your life." The orphan said, "Very well, I will make a search." He began to search in a careless, lounging way; but coming to the place where he had hidden the calf's leg, he suddenly pulled it out. "See, this is cow's flesh," said he; "I told you so." Then the brahman, fearing lest, if other people came in and saw this, his caste would be destroyed, said to the orphan, "Orphan, my good sir! don't tell any one. I will give you a cloth-full of money." [29] So saying, he gave him a cloth-full of silver, which the orphan took with him to his home. When he arrived there, he said to his mother: "Go and ask my uncles for their basket." His mother went and called out: "Brothers! your nephew says he wants a basket." Then the widow's brothers, having given her a basket, said among themselves, "What does he want to do with the basket? Go and watch." So they sent the youngest of them, and he went and watched, and saw the orphan measuring the money with the basket. Then the one who had watched returned home and told his brothers: "Where did that nephew of ours get all this money? He is actually measuring the rupees with a basket!" After they had finished measuring the money, the orphan's mother went and returned the basket. Her brothers said to her, "Send our nephew here." When the widow reached her house she said to her son, "Your uncles bid me ask you to go and see them; they want to speak to you." So the orphan went, and his uncles asked him, "Where did you get all that money?" He answered, "It is the price of cow's flesh; I went a-selling the flesh of my cow which you killed. The people said, 'There is not enough of it for us,' and they all bade me to bring more." His uncles asked him again, "Then if we go selling cow's flesh, they will take more of it?" The orphan replied, "Certainly they will take more; you have many cows, and if you kill them all and go and sell their flesh, how much money will you bring back!" Then each one of his six uncles killed a cow, and having made the flesh into loads went to sell it. The orphan explained to them, "When you arrive at the village of that rich brahman, offer your meat for sale. Call out in the village as soon as you reach it, 'Who will take more cow's flesh?'" So these six brothers, taking up their beef, went on their way, and, arriving at the brahman's village, they cried, "Who will take more cow's flesh?" The people answered, "We will take more; bring it here," and called them in. So when they arrived at the brahman's house, all the inhabitants of the village, having gathered together, seized those six brothers who had come to sell cow's flesh, and having tied their hands, beat them soundly, and said, "We are brahmans; do you dare to come here and traffic, offering cow's flesh for sale?" So saying, they let them go. Then those men who had brought the beef returned homewards, and on the way took counsel together: "Oh, how that orphan has cheated us! Not only has he caused us to kill our cattle; over and above that, he has got us skins that smart all over. As soon as we get home, let us set fire to his house!" So when they reached home, they set fire to the orphan's house. Then the orphan, having woven two baskets, collected the ashes of his burnt house, and made them into a load, and went to a distant village where the people suffered from sore eyes. In that village there was not a man who had not a pain in his eyes. When they saw the orphan coming with his load of ashes, they asked him "Why have you come hither?" The orphan answered, "Oh! when I heard that your whole village was suffering severely from sore eyes, I came to sell medicine to cure the complaint." "Oh, that is very good indeed, dear sir," said they, and all the people of the village collected a load of money, and gave it to the orphan. Then the orphan said, "Do not apply this medicine to your eyes just yet; after I have gone a bit of the way I will call out to you, 'Apply it'; then rub it in." So the orphan, having got a load of money in exchange for his ashes, started for home; and when he had got a little bit of the way, the people with sore eyes called out to him, "Shall we not apply the medicine yet?" He answered "Wait a bit!"; and he continued telling them to wait so long as he was near the village. But when he arrived at a distance where he thought they could not catch him, he called out, "Now apply the medicine!" Then the sore-eyed people applied to their eyes the ashes they had bought from the orphan. As soon as the medicine touched them, their eyes began to smart as you cannot imagine! The pain in their eyes became much worse than ever before. They said among themselves, "Oh! how that fellow has cheated us, and gone away! if he comes again, let us bind his hands fast and beat him!" When the orphan reached home, he sent his mother again to fetch his uncles' basket. The widow went to her brothers' house, and, having lent her the basket, those six brothers said among themselves, "Go, young one, watch again; what is he going to do with the basket?" So the youngest went again secretly to watch. Again he saw the orphan measuring money; and again he went back and carried the news to his brothers: "Our nephew has returned, bringing with him much more money than the last time." Then the six brothers went to the orphan, and asked him, "Where did you get so much more money?" The orphan answered, "It is the price of the ashes of my house that you set fire to. The people in the place where I sold the ashes were crying, 'It is not enough, bring us as much more again!' Now, my house was but a little one, and so the ashes were not much. But your houses are big, and if you set fire to them and sell the ashes, how much money will you get for them! It will be more than you can possibly carry." Then the six brothers, his uncles, said one to another, "Let us too set fire to our houses." So, having burned down their houses, they gathered together the ashes, and each brother took as heavy a load as he could carry. Then the orphan explained to them: "Take the loads to the village of sore-eyed people, and, when you arrive near it, say, 'Will any one take ashes?'" So these six brothers went their way, and, when they came near the village of sore eyes, they called out, "Will anyone take ashes?" Then the sore-eyed folk called out, "Bring them here." So they went into the village. As soon as they got inside, all the people bound them fast with ropes, and rubbed into their eyes the ashes which they themselves had brought, and thrashed them soundly. When the thrashing was over, the six brothers started to return home. On the way they took counsel again together: "Oh, how that villain has deceived us! Not only has he got us smarting skins; he has, over and above that, caused us to burn down our houses and our harvests. Now, immediately we get home, let us make him fast in an iron cage, [30] and throw him into the river." So when they got home they seized the orphan, and having shut him up in an iron cage they took him to the bank of a great pool in a river in the jungle. Then they said, "In a little while we will drown him; now there is no chance for him to escape us, so let us go and eat our rice." So saying, they went to eat their food. When they had gone away, a certain king's son, who was hunting deer, came by. When he arrived where the orphan was, he asked him, "What is the reason why you are tied up in that iron cage?" The orphan answered, "My uncles have a daughter, so lovely! You cannot imagine how fair she is. They tell me to marry her, but I always answer that I will not. So my uncles, becoming angry, have shut me up in this cage." Then the king's son said, "Oh! then can I get her to wife?" "If you get into this cage and stay there, you will be able to get her," the orphan answered; "after a while my uncles will come, and will say, 'Have you nothing more to say?' If they ask you this, then answer them, 'All I have to say is that I will take her, uncles.'" "Very good then," said the prince. Then the orphan said to the king's son, "If you go into the cage wearing your own fine clothes, they will recognize you at once. So let me out. I will give you my clothes, and then you can enter the cage." So the king's son opened the cage and let out the orphan, and the orphan gave his clothes to the prince, while the prince gave his coat, dhoti, necklace, and bracelets in exchange to the orphan, and entered into the cage. Then the orphan made fast the door of the cage, and having dressed himself in the prince's clothes, necklace, and bracelets, went away to his home. Then the orphan's uncles returned from eating their rice, and coming up to the cage asked, "Have you anything more to say, nephew?" "All right, uncles, I agree to take her," answered the king's son, as the orphan had told him to say. Then they threw him in the iron cage into the deep pool. Thereupon the six brothers, the orphan's uncles, said one to another, "How much trouble that fellow caused us all! Now, however, he is dead and done with!" Then they returned home. When they got there, lo! they saw the orphan again, not dead at all, wearing the king's son's clothes, necklace, and bracelets, splendidly adorned and decked out as you could not imagine! They said one to another, "The orphan is not dead after all! There he is, decked out and strutting in his finery!" They went up to him and asked, "Nephew, how is it that you arrived here so soon?" The orphan answered, "Oh, uncles, my grandmothers and grandfathers sent me back here in a palki very quickly. Immediately I arrived there, my grandparents gave me these fine clothes, this necklace, and these bracelets. Only look at them! They sent word, too, that they wanted you also to be told to come to them; as a token, they sent this gold knife--see!" So saying, he showed it to them. Then his uncles said, "How shall we manage to get there?" "Let each one of you take an iron cage with him to the river bank, and get into it there," answered the orphan. So each man took a cage to the river bank and got inside. Then the orphan tied each tightly up in his iron cage, and threw the eldest brother in his cage into the deep pool. As he fell, quantities of bubbles came up on the surface of the water. The orphan cried, "Look, uncles! My eldest uncle has drunk so much of the rice-beer which my grandparents have given him, that he is vomiting." Then he brought the next brother and threw him into the water; and so having cast all his six uncles, one after another, into the stream, the orphan returned to his home. Then his aunts, his uncles' wives, asked him, "When will your uncles come back again?" "They will not come very soon; have they not just met their parents, after being separated from them for so long a time?" replied the orphan. So after waiting three or four nights his aunts asked the orphan again, "Why have your uncles not come back by this time?" He answered, "They will come very soon." Then after waiting two or three nights more they asked again, "Why have not your uncles come yet?" Then the orphan spoke clearly, "Put each man's share of rice in the nòksèk." [31] So his aunts cried, "Ah! they are dead and gone!" And understanding this at last, they wept and made lamentation. So the orphan became rich, and there was no one left to envy him. And having become a great king, he lived a happy life. Note.--Two incidents in this story, viz. the profit made by the orphan by disposing of the flesh of his slaughtered calf, and his gain by selling the ashes of his burnt house, and the disappointment of his uncles when they endeavoured to imitate him, much resemble the incidents of a folk-tale given as an illustration of the Tibeto-Burman dialects of Rangkas, Darma, Chaudangs, and Byangs in vol. iii. Part I., of the Linguistic Survey. These dialects are spoken in the northern portion of Kumaon, on the borders of Tibet. In this version the animals slaughtered are goats and sheep, and the profit is made out of their skins, while the ashes of the burnt house are by an accident exchanged for a load of flour. Still, the motif is the same, and the great distance of the country where this tale is current from that of the Mikirs, and the impossibility of inter-communication, make the coincidences interesting. 3. STORY OF HARATA KUNWAR Harata Kunwar was one of six brothers, the youngest of them. From his very birth he spent his time in shooting deer and wild pig, and never laboured in the fields. His elder brothers, the five, did the field work. Then they, the five brothers, took counsel together with their father, saying, "This Harata Kunwar does no field work, but spends his time in hunting. Let us talk the matter over at night." So that night they talked it over. The father said to his eldest son, "How will you supply me with rice?" He answered, "As for me, I will become a head man of a village, and sit in assembly night and day; from the rice-beer which people will bring me as the head man's perquisites, I will supply you with good white rice and beer." "And you, the second son, how will you supply me with rice?" "As for me, I will become a blacksmith; night and day will I spend in forging knives and daos; with the money produced by these I will furnish you with beer, betel, pan, good white rice, and all kinds of spirit." "And you, the third son, how will you supply me with rice?" "As for me, I will labour in the fields, and having filled granaries and barns with produce I will give you good beer and good white rice." "And you, the fourth, how will you provide for me?" "As for me, I will go as a companion to some one, and what that person gives me of rice and beer I will give you." "And you, the fifth, how will you provide for me?" "As for me, I will become some one's slave, and will support you with the rice and beer he gives me." "And you, Harata Kunwar, in what way will you furnish me with rice?" "As for me, I will marry a daughter of the Sun-god, and having become a great king, I will seat you on a throne, on a fine couch, I will cause slaves, male and female, to bathe your arms and legs, and I will give you beer, rice, and spirits." So they finished their talk. Next day, in the place where they worked at their field, Harata Kunwar not being with them, those five brothers consulted again together with their father. "This Harata Kunwar says he will take to wife the daughter of the Sun-god and become a king, forsooth! Where will he get his kingship? Let us kill him, and let us talk about it again to-night." That night, after they had eaten and drunk, they consulted together about the way in which the killing was to be done. "Let us build a field-watcher's hut [32] for Harata Kunwar, on the border of the jungle let us build it, and make him watch there; then at night let us go and thrust him through with a spear." Harata Kunwar's sister-in-law overheard them as they were conspiring together. Next morning, after they had eaten and drunk and gone away to their work in the fields, Harata Kunwar came home from his hunting. His sister-in-law gave him his rice, and after he had eaten and drunk she said, "Let me kill that insect on you, Harata Kunwar." Then she killed a louse, and as she killed it a tear fell upon Harata Kunwar's leg. He asked her, "Sister-in-law, are you crying?" And his sister-in-law said, "I am not crying, a raindrop fell upon you." Again, as she killed a louse, a tear fell the second time. Harata Kunwar asked her again, "You really are crying, sister-in-law; tell me why you are weeping." So she told him: "My father-in-law and your elder brothers have plotted together to make you watch by night in a jungle hut, and then they will thrust you through there with a spear, they say; that is why I am weeping." Harata Kunwar said, "You need not be afraid; you have told me: it is well. To-morrow morning you will see what happens. If I am not dead, I will come home to you after they have gone, and I will throw six clods, taken from the worm-castings, on the roof of this house. If you don't hear the noise of them on the roof, you will know that I am dead." So in the evening his brothers came home from the field, and his father said, "This night Harata Kunwar must go and watch for us in the jungle hut. Wild pigs are eating up our paddy. There, by the side of the jungle-clearing, we have built for you a watcher's hut." So, having eaten and drunk, Harata Kunwar took with him his bow and went. Then having gathered the fruit of the puroi-sak, [33] he put the juice of it into the sheath of a plantain-stalk, and having made it like the form of a sleeping man he put some clothes on it and laid it as though sleeping in the hut. He himself hid quietly under the shelter of the rice plants. Then, after their first sleep, his father and brothers awoke one another: "Come! let us go and kill Harata Kunwar." Then, each one taking with him a spear, they went to Harata Kunwar's jungle hut. Then the father said, "Go thou, eldest, climb up and thrust him through." The eldest said, "How should I dare to put my spear through him? he is our brother, our youngest brother, we have one mother and father, and besides, we have sucked both of us at the same breast, the same nipple. Since we are brothers, how should I dare to kill him? I dare not." "Go, then, you, the second." The second answered, "Oh! he is not the son of a second wife, own brother he is, our younger brother; how then should I dare to kill him? I dare not." "Go, then, you, the third." He answered, "Our thigh is one, our foot is one, our arm is one, our hand is one; we have grown up together, he is our brother. How could I possibly kill him? I cannot." "Go, then, thou, the fourth." He said, "We sucked together at one nipple, own brothers are we, no sister has he, how could I venture to kill him? I dare not." "Go, then, you, the youngest." "Oh! why do you send me on such an errand? I am the next to him. From childhood it was I who grew up with him together. We ate our rice together from one platter; we drank our beer from the same mug. How should I dare to kill such a one? I dare not!" Then their father became angry. "Then why did you dare to say, 'We must kill Harata Kunwar'? If you cannot bring yourselves to do it, you will never become men." So saying, he climbed up the posts of the hut, and thrust his spear through that plantain-sheath, and the juice of the puroi sak came dropping out from it. Then he called out, "Harata Kunwar, strong though he be, has got his deserts now at last! Let him marry the Sun-god's daughter and make himself a king now!" Harata Kunwar overheard all this. "What, what are you saying, my brothers?" he called out. Then, saying "Harata Kunwar has his bow with him!" they ran away in fear, stumbling and falling as they ran. When they got to their own jungle hut, they vomited, and on the night clearing away, with great difficulty in the morning they reached home. Then Harata Kunwar, after they had come, himself came up, and took six clods from the worm-casts and threw them on the roof. So after they had eaten and drunk, his brothers went away to their field. Then Harata Kunwar came in, and his sister-in-law gave him his rice. After eating and drinking, he said, "Sister! I cannot remain here with you; my own brothers, nay, even my own father, aim at my life, and are plotting to kill me. I must therefore go a-wandering. Get ready and give me a store of rice to take with me, bread, and parched grain." So his sister-in-law prepared food for him, bread and parched rice. And he said to her when he parted: "If I do not come by my death, then when I come here again I will throw six clods from the worm-castings on the roof; then, when you hear them, wash and make ready the stools and benches!" So they wept together, and parted. Then Harata Kunwar, taking his bow with him, went on his way. At last he arrived at his grandmother's house. "Oh, granny! are you there?" The old woman answered, "Who is there? as for this place, I have neither kin nor helper. Who is come?" Harata Kunwar answered, "It is I, granny." Then the old woman said, "Why are you come, my dear? I am a poor widow. I have neither house nor field. I live only by begging my food. Why have you come?" Harata Kunwar answered, "I will stay here with you and be your companion." The old woman said, "You, who are fit to be a king; a great man, how will you be able to live with me here?" Harata Kunwar answered, "Very good, granny; here I will stay." So he became her companion there. Then his granny the widow said, "Harata Kunwar, spread the paddy out in the sun to dry. I will go and beg paddy in the king's village. After you have spread out the paddy, if you want to bathe in the river, don't go up-stream; bathe on the shore close by this house of ours." So having spread out the paddy, his granny the widow went to the king's village. Harata Kunwar took charge of the paddy; frequently turning it over, in a very short time he dried it. Then he collected the paddy together and went to bathe in the river. He thought in his own mind, "for what reason did my granny, when she went away, tell me not to go up-stream to bathe? I will go up-stream and see for myself." So saying, he went up-stream. There he saw shards of broken water-vessels of gold and silver lying. "Oh! that is why granny told me when she went away not to go up-stream. At night I will ask her whose ghat (watering-place) this is." So he returned home. Then his granny the widow in the evening also came home again from the king's village. So at night, after they had eaten and drunk, Harata Kunwar asked her, "Whose ghat is that up-stream? There are broken pieces of gold and silver water-vessels strewn all about it." Then the widow said, "I told you when I went away not to go up-stream. You have been disobeying me and have gone up there, I know?" Harata Kunwar answered, "Yes, I did go, granny; now tell me whose ghat it is." So his granny the widow told him: "It is the ghat of the King of the Great Palace. His daughters, six sisters, come to that place to bathe; don't go there any more." Then Harata Kunwar considered again by himself: "My granny tells me not to go again, but go I will and see for myself." So up-stream he went again, and hid himself quietly under the river bank. At midday the six daughters of the King of the Great Palace came to bathe there in the river. Descending beautifully, each one laid aside her clothes and jumped into the water. This did one after the other, and fair it was to see--like the brightness of the moon and sun; there they bathed and frolicked in the water. Then when the day became cool, the eldest sister admonished the rest: [34] "O my dears, it is cooking time! time to serve up the food: time to house for the night our fowls and our pigs. Our mother will scold us, our father will scold us, if we stay any longer. Let us go." So they ended their bathing and playing in the water. One after another they shook out their clothes in the breeze and put them on, and beautifully flew away; but the youngest of them flew away last of all, lovely like the brightness of the moon or the sun. Until they were lost to sight in the heaven Harata Kunwar continued gazing after them till his neck got a crook in it. So they entered heaven, and he saw them no more. And he returned to his house, thinking to himself, "How fair, how lovely! (I will not rest) until I get one of them to be my wife! To-night I will ask granny about it." So home he came, and after supper Harata Kunwar asked his granny: "Oh, granny! such beautiful, such lovely ones I never saw; how shall I get one to wife? Tell me a plan." His granny said, "Oh, Harata Kunwar, these are children of the Sun-god, children of a great king; how should you, who are a man's son, succeed in getting one to wife?" Harata Kunwar said, "Not so, granny: get one to wife I must and will. Show me a plan!" Since he continued to press her with questions, at last she said to him, "If you must and will get one for your wife, then clear a field on the river bank." "Very good, granny," said Harata Kunwar, "to-morrow, this very next day, I will go and clear it." So he remained watching for the dawn to break, until the sun fully rose. Then, taking with him a dao, he went. From the moment he reached the place he rested not, but cut and hacked down the jungle there, till in a single day he had finished the clearing. Then, having heaped the fallen trees together, he set fire to them, and the fire devoured them there, till there was not a single piece or stock left that was not burnt. Then he dibbled in maize, small millet, sugar cane, plantains; besides these he planted flowers--marvel of Peru, white lilies, marigolds, [35] many kinds of flowers. Then the daughters of the King of the Great Palace came down to bathe in the river; beautifully they descended, fair as never was seen; like the moon, like the sun in splendour, they came right down there. So, having finished bathing and splashing about in the water, they spied Harata Kunwar's garden plot. They said, "Oh, whose field is this? It is very pretty indeed!" The eldest answered, "It must be our brother-in-law Harata Kunwar's field." So they flew away beautifully again to heaven together. Harata Kunwar there pondered in his mind: "Shall I ever succeed in getting her to wife?" And again he asked his grandmother, "Granny, when shall I succeed in getting one to wife?" His granny answered, "Not in that way, grandson. Build for yourself a jungle hut." So next morning a jungle hut he went to build. In a single day he finished building one, great and big, and came home again. "The jungle-hut is finished, granny," he said. "Then cut for yourself a flute," advised his granny. So he cut several flutes for himself, and bored holes in them. Then the time for maize and millet to ripen came. And his granny advised him: "Go and watch in your jungle hut, and play the flute." As for his field, in a very short time flowers blossomed there as you never saw! Then the daughters of the King of the Great Palace arrived to bathe in the river; flying down beautifully one after another they laid aside their clothes and jumped into the water, and bathed and frolicked. Then the eldest admonished them: "Come, my dears, let us go." Thereupon Harata Kunwar began to play on his flute so beautifully that you never heard the like. "Oh! this flute-playing is very pretty to hear! Surely it is the man (called) Harata Kunwar. Come, dears, let us go and ask for a few flowers." So they went. "Harata Kunwar, we would like to pluck for ourselves a few flowers. May we pluck and take some, sir?" "Yes," said Harata Kunwar, "you can pluck as many as you like." Then each one plucked some flowers and went away. Gracefully they flew away with the flowers. Until they disappeared in the sky, Harata Kunwar gazed after them, until his eyes became quite sore with gazing. So they returned into heaven. When he could see them no more, Harata Kunwar also returned home. And his granny the widow asked him, "Did you have any talk to-day with the daughters of the King of the Great Palace?" "Yes, we had some talk; they even asked to be allowed to gather some of my flowers." Then his granny explained a plan: "To-morrow is a lucky day. Go, you, before the Great King's daughters come down to bathe, and hide yourself as I tell you, and watch by the river. The elder sisters, all five, have got husbands already. As for the youngest, the King of the Winds is asking for her to marry her to his son; already the gourds and chungas of beer (for the wedding-feast) have arrived. Nevertheless, having singled out her petticoat from among the others, while they are all bathing, bring it here to me. I will weave a petticoat just like it in exchange for it; take that one back there and put it down again in the same place where her real petticoat was; her own petticoat let us hide away. Then she will not be able to fly away. If she asks for her petticoat back again, say 'One or other of you must marry me.'" "Yes, very good indeed, granny," said Harata Kunwar. From the time that his granny imparted to him that plan, Harata Kunwar's mind was so cheerful as you could not imagine. All night long he could not close his eyes, but went on thinking continually. So morning dawned. Then, having breakfasted, he went to his field. "Oh, when will it be midday?" he said, as he went on waiting. Then he hid himself quietly under the sand. Then at midday the daughters of the King of the Great Palace came. Gracefully they flew down there, and one after another removed her garments and plunged into the stream. So when they were all in the water, Harata Kunwar rose stealthily and seized the petticoat and striped cloth of that youngest one, and carried them off straightway to his granny the widow. And his granny wove in place of them another petticoat and striped cloth just like them. In a very short time she had done them, and Harata Kunwar ran back again there, and having put the new petticoat and striped cloth in the same place, himself went into his jungle hut and played the flute. Wonderfully he played it there; never was heard such playing. So when they had had enough of bathing and sporting in the water, the eldest admonished her sisters: [36] "O my sisters, let us go! it is time to pound the rice, time to clean it after pounding: time to cook, time to serve up: time to heat the beer, time to squeeze it from the rice-grains." So having put on her clothes she said again, "Come, let us go and ask for a few flowers." Then, having plucked some flowers, first the eldest flew up, then the younger sisters also flew up to her gracefully, and last of all the youngest also tried to fly, but found she could not. If she flew she fell back again there; if she got up and tried to fly again, she fell back a second time. Then the eldest said, "Oh! what in the world is the matter?" So the elder sisters also came down again there, and went and said to Harata Kunwar, "O Harata Kunwar, without doubt it is you who have changed our youngest sister's petticoat; therefore, bring it back!" So they called out, and Harata Kunwar answered, "One or other of you must be my wife." The daughters of the King of the Great Palace said, "How is it possible that any of us should stay here and be your wife? We have each of us got husbands already." Harata Kunwar said, "Then I cannot give you the petticoat; one of you must positively marry me." Then the daughters of the King of the Great Palace said to one another, "Sister! do you marry him." The eldest answered, "How should I marry him? I have a number of children already." "Then you, the next, you marry him." "How can I marry him? I also have four children already." "You, the third, you marry him, then." "How can I, when I also have three children already?" "Then you, the fourth, you marry him." "I also have two children already; how should I marry him?" "You, the fifth, you marry him." "I cannot marry him; don't you know that I also have one child already?" "Then you, the youngest, you marry him." The youngest answered, "As for me, the King of the Winds is asking for me to marry me to his son, the gourds and chungas of beer (for the wedding feast) have arrived already. How can I possibly marry him?" Her eldest sisters said, "Well, but you are not married yet. You must marry him, dear. It is getting dark; we must go. There at home our fowls and our pigs will be calling out for us; besides, our mother and father will be looking out for us. And We will come and visit you from time to time." Then the youngest one said, "What is to be done, sisters? Well, I will marry him; you go. Our mother and father will be angry." Then the eldest one said: "Harata Kunwar, you would not listen to our instructions, therefore we are leaving our youngest sister here with you; but be careful not to grieve or trouble her. Do not make her cook or serve up; moreover, touch not her hand or her foot." So, after giving parting instructions to their youngest sister, they flew away gracefully to heaven again together. The pair who were left behind continued gazing after them till they were lost in the heaven and they could see them no more. Then Harata Kunwar said: "It is getting dark, let us two also go home." So Harata Kunwar was happy and joyful. Night and day he shot deer and wild pig, and his platform and drying stand [37] (for drying flesh on) were never dry (i.e. without flesh exposed on them to dry). So one year came to an end. "O Granny, I say to myself, 'I will go home'; what am I to do?" said Harata Kunwar. "Sure, you have your own house, you have your own field; you can go if you like; nevertheless your wife is not yet entirely at one with you here." "Nay, but," said Harata Kunwar, "is it not a whole year (since we were married), granny?" "Nevertheless, you have not come to perfect agreement yet." "Oh, then," said Harata Kunwar, "I cannot go yet." So Harata Kunwar stayed there, working in the field and labouring, and getting barns and granaries stored with the produce to such an extent that the widow's house was filled up with baskets and barrels full of grain. And God gave Harata Kunwar a child, one son only. Then he asked his grandmother again: "Granny! I keep saying to myself, 'we will go home to my mother and father.'" The widow answered, "Your wife has not yet thoroughly accommodated herself to you, grandson." "Not so, granny; she has indeed. Has she not already borne me a son?" "Go, then. You would not listen to the warnings I gave you from time to time. Go together. But your wife has not yet made up her mind to stay with you, I assure you." So Harata Kunwar said to his wife, "My dear! let us two go together to our home." His wife answered, "Go. Wherever you take me (I will go too)." Then the morning dawned, and they took their breakfast and started. They went a bit of the way. Now, his child and his wife Harata Kunwar bound firmly to his waist with his turban, and so carried them. And so as they went on they saw a jungle-cock [38] scratching the ground in a wonderful way on the mountain side. Harata Kunwar said, "Oh, jungle-cock, what are you doing there? I am in a hurry to get home; leave the road open to me." The jungle-cock answered, "I will not leave the road open to you. I say to myself, 'Harata Kunwar to-day will bring along his wife and child,' and I am watching the way he is coming." Harata Kunwar rejoined, "What jest is this? Be careful, lest in a little you have to say, 'when Harata Kunwar brought his wife and child to his home and field, my life was lost.'" The jungle-cock said, "I don't say so; to-day (we will see whether) you or I will prevail." Harata Kunwar said, "Is that true?" "True." "Do you swear it?" "I swear it." Then Harata Kunwar, setting an arrow to his bow, shot him. Then as he went on a little further (he came upon) a cock-pheasant [39] blocking the road, and scratching in a wonderful way on the mountain side. And Harata Kunwar said again, "Oh, cock-pheasant, what are you doing there? I am in a hurry to get home; leave the road free to me." The cock-pheasant answered, "I won't leave the road free to you. I say to myself, 'To-day Harata Kunwar will bring along his wife and child,' and I am watching here the way he is coming." Harata Kunwar said, "Oh, don't be silly, lest you have to say in a little while, 'when Harata Kunwar brought along his wife and child, I lost my life.'" The cock-pheasant said, "I don't say so." Harata Kunwar said again, "Are you in earnest?" "In earnest." "Do you swear it?" "I swear it." Then Harata Kunwar set his bow and shot him. Then, as they went on still further, a wild boar, so big as you never saw or imagined, with his tusks overlapping his mouth, was straddling across the road, and rooting up the earth there on the mountain side in an extraordinary way. And Harata Kunwar said, "Oh, wild boar, what are you doing there? leave me the road open, I want to get home quickly." The wild boar answered, "I will by no means leave you the road; saying to myself, 'To-day Harata Kunwar will bring along his wife and child,' I am watching the road he is coming." Harata Kunwar said, "Oh, don't joke! is it true or not?" The wild boar answered, "It is true." Harata Kunwar said, "Be careful, lest in a little while you have to say, 'when Harata Kunwar brought along his wife and child, my life was lost.'" The wild boar said, "I don't say so." "Are you in earnest?" "Yes." "Do you swear it?" "I swear it." "Oh, then----" So saying, Harata Kunwar set his bow and shot him. Then, when he had nearly arrived at his house, he collected six clods from the worm-casts, and threw them on the roof. Then his sister-in-law said, "Harata Kunwar has come home! Wash the stools and the benches!" Then they washed all the stools and seats and planks and benches. And Harata Kunwar, bringing along with him that wild boar, put it down beside the hedge, and entered the house. And as soon as he arrived, his sister-in-law gave him there beer, bread, and parched rice. His wife was so very beautiful that no one could look her in the face, as one cannot look straight at the brightness of the sun. Then his brothers were perplexed, saying, "What in the world has happened to us this night?" And Harata Kunwar said, "A short time ago I shot a little pig on the road. I just put it down there beside the hedge. Go and get it and scorch it (for cooking)." So his five brothers went, but the boar was so very big that they could not even move it; they could do nothing with it at all. So Harata Kunwar went with them. With one hand he easily lifted it and brought it away; and they scorched it and cut it up. So home they brought it and cooked it and served it up, and joyful, noisy, laughing and jesting, they ate and drank. Then next morning dawned. Hearing that Harata Kunwar had brought his wife home, all the people of the whole country-side kept coming and going to gaze upon her, in such crowds as you never saw. And Harata Kunwar put away carefully in a bamboo chunga his wife's own petticoat and striped cloth, with her gold ornaments, her necklace, and her gold drum (Ass. madoli) worn on the breast, and tied them up in the pitch of the roof. So Harata Kunwar went to pay visits to the people of the village, and the ryots of the country-side came to visit him; and then they went on to gaze upon his wife. And all the women--aunts on mother's and father's side, sisters-in-law, elder brothers' wives--each one said, "Oh! is she not lovely, sister!" Thus they wondered at her. Then Harata Kunwar's wife answered, "Not so lovely yet as I might be. If I were to put on again my own petticoat, my striped cloth, my necklace and my bracelets, then, indeed, there would be something to see!" Then some old woman said, "Oh, then, give them to her." And Harata Kunwar's old father said, "Where in the world did that idiot of a boy put them away? Why did he not give her her own petticoat and striped cloth?" Then Harata Kunwar's wife explained: "They are there in the roof-pitch where he has tied them up." So his father untied the bundle and gave it to her. Then she put the things on and arrayed herself. Thereupon she became inconceivably beautiful. "Oh!" they cried, "lovely! beautiful indeed! It is not for nothing that she is called child of the Sun-god!" Thereupon Harata Kunwar's wife rose up to her full height, and flapped her clothes, and gracefully flew away back to her own place. Then Harata Kunwar, happening to see her from where he was on a distant road, kept continually bending his bow. And his wife said, as she left him: "Wait, wait! hereafter we shall meet again." So Harata Kunwar, weeping bitterly, sick and sorry at heart, came to his house. Immediately he got there, without eating or drinking, he took his child on his back, and straightway set out for the house of his grandmother the widow woman. Thus he went on till he arrived, and at once on arrival began to weep and wail as you could not imagine. Then his grandmother said: "I told you from the first that your wife was not yet reconciled to her lot with you. How will you get to see her now? How will you be able to reach her in heaven?" This only aggravated his weeping; refusing meat and drink, he followed his grandmother wherever she went, continually dogging her steps, and was like to die of grief. At last his grandmother said, "Harata Kunwar, take a little food, and then I will tell you of a plan." So he took something to eat, bread and parched rice, and then his grandmother told him her scheme. "To-morrow," she said, "the son of the King of the Winds will come there to marry your wife. Before that, your father-in-law's elephant will come here to bathe. Do you go and hide yourself there under the sand. When the elephant (after its bath) is just about to go, hold on tight to its tail, and bind your child firmly to your waist with your turban. If the elephant asks you anything, say that you also are going to the place where your wife is. Then to-morrow, in the evening, you will arrive there. Remain concealed on the river bank. Then male and female slaves will come to draw water there in order to bathe your wife. Call out to them, 'Give me one draught of water for the child.' Then, if they give you the water, drop into the water-pot a gold ring. Then she (i.e. your wife) will call for you. Go to her, and when you arrive, put down your child on the ground; then the child will go of itself towards its mother." The morning dawned, and Harata Kunwar, after eating and drinking, went to the river bank and hid himself quietly under the sand. Then the elephant came down to bathe in the river, and having bathed, was just about to go away, when Harata Kunwar grasped firmly hold of its tail, and with his turban tied his child securely to his waist. Then the elephant flew up with him to heaven, and put him down on the river bank there. And all the people of the King of the Winds had come to the house of the King of the Great Palace in order to celebrate the marriage of the son of the King of the Winds with Harata Kunwar's wife. And the King's slaves, male and female, came to draw water in order to bathe Harata Kunwar's wife. And Harata Kunwar called out to them for water for his child: "Give me just one draught of water for my son, good mothers!" One after another paid no attention to his request, till at last an old woman came up. So Harata Kunwar called out again: "Give me water, one draught only, good madam, for my child." So the old woman gave him some water. Making as though he would take hold of the water-jar, Harata Kunwar dropped into it a gold ring. Then they brought the water for Harata Kunwar's wife's bath. After washing delicately her arms and her legs, they poured the old woman's water-jar over her head, and the gold ring fell out. Then Harata Kunwar's wife asked, "Oh! who is the person whose water-jar has just reached me?" Then one after another they said, "It's not my water-jar." Then all called out together, "It is the old woman's jar." Then she said to the old woman: "Where did you get hold of this ring? Seize that man and bring him here at once. If you cannot bring him, it will be a matter of your life." So the old woman, weeping and lamenting, came to Harata Kunwar and called out to him, "Be pleased to come with me! What was the reason why your Honour, under pretence of asking me to give you water, had it in your mind to make me lose my life?" So Harata Kunwar, taking the child on his back, went with her. Immediately on arriving he put the boy down on the ground, and the child ran straight into its mother's lap and began to suck her breast. Then the King of the Great Palace said: "Why! such a thing as this was never seen! They have got a child big between them already!" So the King of the Winds' folk were ashamed and disgusted, and returned home sad and sorry. So they celebrated the wedding of Harata Kunwar and the daughter of the King of the Great Palace. So Harata Kunwar remained there one year, two years, and laboured at tilling the fields, so that he got twelve barns, twelve granaries full of grain. Then said Harata Kunwar to his wife: "My dear! we two, like the sparrow or the dove, should have a nest at least, a roosting-place of our own. Therefore let us go away together. Do you ask father-in-law and mother-in-law." So at night Harata Kunwar's wife asked her parents: "O father and mother, your son-in-law says, 'we two, like a sparrow or a dove, should at least have a nest, a roosting-place of our own. Let us go away together,' and he bade me ask you about it. What are your commands in the matter?" So the King of the Great Palace said: "My daughter! I have once for all given you away to this man like a bundle of greens, and have nothing more to do with you. Go away together, to-morrow if you like, or to-day if you prefer it." Then he went on to say, "What do you two desire of me? slaves, male or female? ryots, husbandmen? gold? silver?" So she went and told Harata Kunwar: "My dear! my mother and father say, 'You may go away together to-day or to-morrow as you please: moreover, slaves, male and female, ryots, husbandmen, gold, silver,--mention whatever you desire'--so they say." And Harata Kunwar said, "I want nothing at all." And morning dawned. Then Harata Kunwar went and did obeisance to his father and mother-in-law. And his father-in-law said to him, "What do you desire? slaves--handmaids--ryots--husbandmen--gold--silver?" Harata Kunwar said, "I need nothing." Then Harata Kunwar and his wife, the wedded pair, and their son started for home, and in due course arrived there. A king he became, a great man, and night and day he lived in happiness and greatness, and his kingdom was great and stable. APPENDIX. THE LEGEND OF CREATION. Condensed from Mr. Allen's (of the American Presbyterian Mission) replies to ethnographical questions, dated October, 1900. Long ago the gods Hèmphu and Mukràng took counsel together for the creation of the world. They marked the limits of their work, setting up four great posts to fix the boundaries of things, and fastened them immovably with six of their mother's hairs. Then they looked for seed to produce the earth, but found none. Then they consulted a hundred other gods, with their wives, making, with themselves and their wives, two hundred and four in all. It was decided to send one of the wives to beg for some earth from the god Hajòng, and Bamon's wife was sent on this errand. But Hajòng refused to give any earth from his world from which a rival world might be fashioned, and sent the goddess Bamonpi away empty-handed. But as she returned she noticed the worm-casts on the road, and carried off one and hid it in her bosom. But even with this piece of warm earth nothing could be done, until the gods sent for Helòng Recho, the king of the earth-worms, who came and worked up the piece of earth, till in one day it became a heap many feet in diameter; so he continued, till eventually it became this earth of ours. But it was still soft moist earth, on which no one could travel. So they called Kapràng the blacksmith, who with his bellows produced a wind which dried the mud to solid earth. Then the gods said, "We must cause plants to grow on it." They searched everywhere for seed, and at last sent to Rèkbepi in the west, by the great post that marked the place of the setting sun, to ask her for seed. Rèkbepi came, and herself brought seed and sowed it. (Another version states that Rèkbepi and Rèk-kropi, wives of two gods, went to Kana, beyond the boundaries of this world, and obtained from him the various seeds of trees and plants. As they were returning, the sinàm, or head-strap, which held the baskets on their heads broke, and the winds scattered the seeds on the surface of the earth. This occurred on the bank of the river Kallang, in the south-eastern part of Nowgong. But all the bamboos that grew from these seeds were jointless, and therefore weak: strong winds would break down the entire crop in a single storm. So the goddesses who brought the seed tied round the stems pieces of thread to strengthen them; the threads made scars, until at last all the bamboos we have now are marked with scars at the joints.) Next came the creation of animals. Hèmphu and Mukràng were the leaders, but they were helped by Pithe and Pothe ("great mother" and "great father"). The elephant was first created to be a servant to man. Then the tiger was made, and bidden to eat the wicked; any one killed by a tiger is still thought to have committed some great crime. Then a great council was held, and it was decided to create a being called arlèng (man). The first man's name was Bamon-po, and he had created for him two wives, one a Mikir and the other an Assamese. But no offspring was born to the man for a long time. At last the Assamese wife sent her husband to her elder brother, who understood the secrets of nature. He sent Bamonpo into his garden, and bade him pick an orange for each of his wives, and give it to her to eat, when all would be well. Bamonpo did so, and went homewards with his two oranges. On the way, becoming hot, he stopped at a river to bathe. While he was in the water, a crow came and carried away one of the oranges. Bamonpo sadly returned to his home, and gave the one orange left to his Assamese wife, who ate it. But the Mikir wife picked up a piece of the peel and ate it, and in process of time she had a son, whom she named Ram. The Assamese wife also had a son, whom she called Chaputi. He, however, was weak and puny, while Ram was strong and valiant. Ram could pull up trees by the roots, and break them down as he pleased. He could fight and conquer any demon who attacked him, and any man whom he met. But he had no wife. One day while out hunting he became thirsty, and climbed a tree to look for water. He saw a pool, at which he quenched his thirst. As he did so, he noticed in the grass a white thing, which he put in his basket and carried home. It was a large egg. For some days he forgot to look at it, and later on, when he went to see it, he found that the egg was broken, and a beautiful woman had come forth from it. The demons tried to seize her and carry her off, but Ram vanquished them all, and made her his wife. She was very fruitful, and her children multiplied until they were numbered by thousands. Ram's fame spread throughout the world, till at last he disappeared, and was deified by a race of his descendants, called Hindus. They were a mighty race of men, and in the course of time, becoming dissatisfied with the mastery of the earth, they determined to conquer heaven, and began to build a tower to reach up to the skies. Higher and higher rose the building, till at last the gods and demons feared lest these giants should become the masters of heaven, as they already were of earth. So they confounded their speech, and scattered them to the four corners of the earth. Hence arose all the various tongues of men. Additional note to p. 45.--A very exact parallel to the story of Harata Kunwar will be found in Mr. S. J. Hickson's book entitled A Naturalist in North Celebes (London, 1889), pp. 264-6. It is a story current among the Minahassa people of that region, of heavenly nymphs in whose clothes resided their power to fly, and one of whom was captured by a man who made her his wife; other details agree closely with those of the Mikir story. VI. LANGUAGE. Outline of Mikir grammar--The original text of the three stories translated in Section V., analysed and elucidated. The language spoken by the Mikirs belongs to the great family of Indo-Chinese speech called Tibeto-Burman, the general characteristics of which have been fully set forth in The Linguistic Survey of India, vol. iii. Mikir itself is treated on pp. 380 ff. of Part II. of that volume, and is described by Dr. Grierson as a member of the Naga-Bodo sub-group, in which it is classed together with Empeo or Kachcha Naga, Kabui, and Khoirao. It is unnecessary here to occupy space with any demonstration of the fact that Mikir is a Tibeto-Burman language, or to cite lists of words in it agreeing with those of other languages of the same great class. In the next section an attempt will be made to examine its affinities with other varieties of Tibeto-Burman speech, and to define more clearly its place in the family; in this the language will be dealt with in its internal structure only, and, as specimens, the original text of the three stories translated in Section V. will be given, with an interlinear rendering and a running commentary. A grammatical sketch of Mikir was printed at pp. 381-391 of Part II. vol. iii. of the Linguistic Survey. What follows is mainly borrowed from that source, which was the first published attempt to explain systematically the facts and mechanism of the language. SOUNDS. Mikir has no written character of its own. The first publication printed in it, a short catechism issued by a missionary press at Sibsagar in 1875, used the Assamese character; since then, so far as is known, the Roman alphabet has always been employed to express the sounds of the language. Mr. Stack, from whose materials this monograph has been compiled, distinguished the following vowel sounds:-- a, long a as in father (chiefly in open syllables); à, the same shortened and pronounced abruptly, as in the German Mann, always in closed syllables; (N.B. The language does not possess the short Hindi a, representing the u in but.) e, the long e in the French scène; e, the same sound shortened, as in belief; è, the sharp e in the English men (always in closed syllables); i, the long i in machine; i, the short i in it; o, the long o in bone; o, the same shortened, as in obey; ò, the sharp abrupt sound in pot (always in closed syllables); u, the long u in June; u, the short u in full. The diphthongs are-- ai, as in aisle; ei, almost as in feign, with the i audible; oi, as in boil; ui, long u with i added: no English equivalent. The consonants used in Mikir are b, ch, d, h, j, k, l, m, n, ng, p, r, s, t, v (all with their value as in English), and the aspirates kh, ph, th (pronounced as in cookhouse, haphazard, anthill). Bh, dh, and g occur only in a few borrowed words, and bh and dh are commonly resolved, as bahar (for Hindi bhar), "a load," and dohòn (for Ass. dhon), "money." F, sh, w, y, and z are not used. Ng is never initial, and the g is not separately heard (always as in singer, never as in younger). MONOSYLLABIC ROOTS. The root words of the language, whether nouns, adjectives, pronouns, verbs, or adverbs, are generally monosyllabic; where simple roots have more than one syllable, the additions are formative prefixes, once probably separate words, which have become incorporated. Such are the prefix ke-, ki-, ka-, used to form adjectives, present participles, and verbal nouns; and the prefixes ar- (in arni, "sun," arlòng, "stone," arlèng, "man," etc.), ing- (in inglòng, "mountain"; inghòn, "pity," etc.), and te-, ti-, to- (in teràm, "call," tekàng, "abandon," tikup, "house-yard," tovar, "road," etc.), of which the precise significance is not now traceable. In compound roots, formed by combining monosyllabic elements, the force of each individual syllable is still fully felt; such compounds are exceedingly common. Words are not inflected, but are located in sense by their position in the sentence or by the addition of particles. These particles may often be omitted where ambiguity is not likely to occur; such omission is particularly frequent as regards the postpositions indicating case, and the tense-affixes of the verb. GENDER. Gender is not distinguished except for animated beings, and in them either (1) by added words indicating sex (as so-po, "boy," so-pi, "girl"; aso-pinso, "male child"; aso-pi, "daughter"; chainòng-alo, "bull"; chainòng-api, "cow"), or (2) by the use of different terms (po, "father," pe or pei, "mother," phu, "grandfather," phi, "grandmother," etc.). NUMBER. The ordinary suffix for the plural is -tum (which is originally a separate word meaning "company," "followers"); but other words are occasionally employed, as mar, a "mass, quantity, or company"; òng, "many"; and li, a respectful form used in addressing a number of persons. When -tum is suffixed to a noun, it takes the prefixed a- of relation, as arlèng-atum, "men"; when added to a personal pronoun it does not require this adjunct, as will be explained below (ne, "I," ne-tum, "we"; nàng, "thou," nàng-tum, "ye"; la, "he, she, it," la-tum, "they"). CASE. Case is indicated by position, or by postpositions. The nominative, and, generally speaking, the accusative, have no postpositions, but are ascertained by their position in the sentence, the nominative at the beginning, the accusative following it before the verb. Both, when necessary, can be emphasised by the addition of the particles -ke and -si, which in some sort play the part of the definite article; but these are not case-postpositions. There is no device (as in Tibetan) for distinguishing the case of the agent with transitive verbs. The genitive always precedes the noun on which it is dependent. When the word in the genitive is a pronoun of the first or second person, nothing intervenes between them: ne-mèn, "my name"; nàng-pe, "thy clothes." But when, the pronoun is in the third person, or a noun is in the genitive case, the following noun has a- prefixed: e.g. la a-po, "his father"; Arnàm a-hèm, "God's house"; hijai-atum a-kàm, "the jackals' work"; arni-kàngsàm a-pòr, "day-becoming-cool time." This prefixed a- is really the pronoun of the third person, and means his, her, its, their; the full meaning of the combinations given above is therefore "he, his father": "God, his house": "the jackals, their work": "day becoming cool, its time." As in many other languages of the Tibeto-Burman family, nouns (especially those denoting personal relations, parts of the body, etc.) are seldom conceived as abstract and self-contained; they most often occur in relation to some other noun, and thus the syllable a- is more often prefixed to them than not. Especially is this the case with adjectives; these ordinarily follow the noun which they qualify, and almost always have a- prefixed; e.g. Arnàm a-kethe, "God Almighty": la a-kibi a-bàng, "that younger one." Sometimes this prefixed a- is thinned down to e-, as in hèm-e-pi, hèm-e-po, "widow, widower," literally "female or male owner of the house": hijai e-hur, "a pack of jackals." Most postpositions (originally nouns joined to the genitive of the qualified word) similarly require a- before them; and the suffix -tum of the plural, since it means "a company," also in this manner assumes the form a-tum. Before ing- the prefix a- is absorbed, and the result is àng. The other cases are formed by postpositions. The instrumental is generally indicated by pèn (sometimes with prefixed a- or e-, as apèn, epèn, but more often without), or pèn-si. The dative takes a-phàn, "to or for," which is also occasionally used for the accusative. The sign of the dative of purpose is apòt: pi-apòt, "what for, why?" kopi-apòtsi, id. The ablative is formed with pèn or pènsi: nòn-pèn, "from now"; dàk-pèn, "from here"; apara (Ass. para) is also used, generally with pèn as well. The locative has a number of postpositions, according to the position required: -si is used for "in," as hèm-si, "in the house," adèt-si, "in his country"; arlo is also used for "in, inside." Le (properly the conjunctive participle of a verb meaning "arrive, reach to a place") is often used as a postposition for "at, in." Other common locative postpositions are a-thàk, "upon, on," àngsòng, "above, upon," arum, "below," aber, "below," alòng "together with" (lòng means "place"), adun, adung, "beside, next to" (dun is a verb meaning "to be with, accompany"), adàk, "between," àngbòng, "in the middle of," aphi, "after." ADJECTIVES. Adjectives are regularly formed by prefixing ke-, ki-, or ka- to the root, and do not change for gender, number, or case. Thus, from the root me, "to be good," we have keme, "good"; helo, "distance," kahelo, "far off"; dòk, "to have savour," kedòk, "savoury"; ho, "to be bitter," keho, "bitter"; lòk, "to be white," kelòk, "white"; ri, "to be rich," kiri, "rich." Ke- and ki- are generally used with monosyllables, ka- with longer words; ka- with ing- forms kàng. The form of the adjective is precisely the, same as that of the present participle of the verbal root, used to form the present tense, and also as that of the infinitive or abstract of that root, and the collocation of the sentence alone determines the meaning of the word used. When particles of comparison or other modifying elements are added to the adjective, the prefix ke- etc. is often dropped as unnecessary; thus-- kelòk, "white"; lòk-hik, "whitish." keme, "good"; me-mu, "better"; me-ne, "best." keding, "tall"; ding-mu, "taller." But kàngtui, "high"; kàngtui-mu, "higher"; kàngtui-ne, "highest." Comparison is effected by means of the postpositions apar and aphàn; "his brother is taller than his sister," a-te apar (or aphàn) a-kòr ding-mu. Adjectives commonly follow the noun qualified; when they precede, the construction corresponds to what in Aryan languages would be indicated by the relative pronoun (see below, p. 80). NUMERALS. The cardinal numerals are isi, one; hini, two; kethòm, three; phili, four; phòngo, five; theròk, six; theròk-si, seven; nerkèp, eight; sirkèp, nine; kèp, ten. It will be seen that seven is six plus one, eight ten minus two, nine ten minus one. From eleven to nineteen kre takes the place of kèp: kre-isi, eleven; kre-hini, twelve; kre-kethòm, thirteen, etc. A score is ingkoi, and from this point onwards the syllable ra is inserted between the multiple of ten and the added units: ingkoi-ra-isi, twenty-one; ingkoi-ra-hini, twenty-two, etc. Thirty, forty, etc. are formed by adding kèp to the multiplier unit: thòm-kèp, phili-kèp, etc. Eighty is theròk-nerkèp, ninety theròk-serkèp. A hundred is pharo or paro, a thousand suri. The numeral follows the noun. In composition hini (except with bàng, "person") is reduced to ni, and kethòm to thòm, as jo-ni jo-thòm, "two or three nights." Phili and theròk are often contracted to phli and thròk. Generic determinatives, as in many other Tibeto-Burman languages, are commonly used with numbers:-- with persons, bàng, as a-òng-mar kòrte bàng-theròk, "his uncles, the six brothers"; with animals, jòn (perhaps an Assamese loan-word), as chelòng jòn-phili, "four buffaloes"; with trees and things standing up, ròng: thèngpi ròng-theròk "six trees"; with houses, hum, as hèm hum-theròk-kèp, "sixty houses"; with flat things, as a mat, a leaf, a knife, pàk: as tar pàk-phòngo, "five mats"; lo pàk-phili, "four leaves"; noke pàk-thòm, "three knives"; with globular things, as an egg, a gourd, a vessel, pum: as vo-ti pum-ni, "two eggs"; bòng pum-theròksi, "seven gourds"; with parts of the body, and also with rings, bracelets, and other ornaments, hòng: as kèng e-hòng, "one leg"; roi hòng-ni, "two bracelets." One of anything is not formed with isi, but, if a person is spoken of, inut (a Khasi loan-word) is used: if anything else, e- is prefixed to the generic determinative; "one cow," chainòng e-jòn; "one tree," thèngpi e-ròng; "one book," puthi e-pàk; "one egg," vo-ti e-pum. This e- appears to be borrowed from Assamese, where it is shortened from èk. Ordinals are formed by prefixing batai to the cardinal, as batai-kethòm, "third," batai phili, "fourth." They seem to be little used: in the story of Harata Kunwar it will be seen that clumsy periphrases are employed to designate the second, third, fourth, and fifth brother of the family to which the hero belonged. Distributive numeral adverbs are formed by prefixing pur or phòng to the cardinal: pur-thòm or phòng-thòm, "thrice." PRONOUNS. The following are the personal pronouns:-- 1st Person: ne, I; ne-tum, ne-li, ne-li-tum, we, excluding the person addressed: i-tum, i-li, we, including the person addressed; 2nd Person: nàng, thou; nàng-tum, nàng-li, nàng-li-tum, ye; 3rd Person: la, he, she, it; la-tum, they; alàng, he, she; alàng-li, alàng-atum, alàng-li-tum, they. (The pronoun la is really a demonstrative, = this, that: it is probable that the original pronoun of the third person was a.) These pronouns take the postpositions like nouns. The possessive or genitive prefixes are ne, my, our, excluding the person addressed; e- or i-, our, including the person addressed; nàng-, thy, your; a-, his, her, its, their. The demonstrative pronouns are--la, labàngso, bàngso, this; pl. labàngso-atum, these: hala, halabàngso, that; pl. hala-tum, halabàngso-atum, those. The syllable ha- connotes distance, as dàksi, ladàk, here; ha-dàk, there; ha ahèm che-voi-lo, "he returned home from a distance." (There appears once to have been another demonstrative pronoun, pi, pe, pa, still preserved in the compound words pi-ni, "to-day," penàp, "to-morrow," pedàp, "this morning," paningve, "to-night." Instead of pi and pe we also find mi, me, as mi-ni, me-nàp. This survival is important for the purpose of comparison with other Tibeto-Burman languages.) As in other Tibeto-Burman languages, there is no relative pronoun; its place is taken by descriptive adjectival phrases. Thus "those six brothers who had gone to sell cow's flesh" is-- la chainòng a-òk kejòr-dàm-a-tum kòrte bàng-theròk. Those cow 's flesh to sell going (plural) brothers persons-six; "The man whom Tenton had tied with an iron chain" is-- Tèntòn ingchin a-ni-pèn ke-kòk arlèng. Tenton iron chain-with tied-up man. In these constructions, it will be seen, the adjective or qualifying participle precedes the noun. The interrogative syllable, used to form interrogative pronouns, is ko-: komàt, komàt-si, who? kopi, pi, what? ko-pu, ko-pu-si, kolopu, kolopu-sòn, how? ko-àn, ko-ànsi, how many? konàt, konàthu, where? konàm-tu, nàm-tu, nàm-tu-si, when? Always when the sentence does not contain an interrogative pronoun, and sometimes when it does, the syllable ma at the end marks a question: "Are you afraid," nàng phere-dèt ma? Ne (probably an Assamese loan-word) is also used instead of ma: "Will you marry him or not?" do-ji-ne do-de-ne? The reflexive pronoun is amethàng, self; binòng, own; but the most usual way of indicating that the action affects oneself is to prefix the particle che- (chi-, ching-, cheng-, and rarely cho-) to the verbal root: la hèm che-voi-lo, "he returned home," i.e. to his own house; a-òng-mar-atum che-pu-lo, "his uncles said to one another"; che-hàng-jo, "they asked for themselves." With initial ing-, che- coalesces to ching: with ar- it unites to form cher. VERBS. The Mikir verb indicates time, past, present, or future, by means of particles prefixed or suffixed to the root. It does not vary for number, [40] gender, or person. There is no separate verb-substantive, though there are several ways of expressing existence, as do, "stay, abide," used also for "have, possess"; plàng, "become"; làng, "exist, continue (with a sense of incompleteness)"; le, "arrive, happen," etc. Great use is made of adjectival or participial forms, and, in narrative, of the conjunctive participle. Compound roots are very extensively used, the principal verb being put first, then the modifying supplements, and last the time-index. The simple, or indeterminate present is expressed by the participle with ke-, ka-, without any suffix: konàtsi nàng kedo, "where do you live?"; vo kàngjar, "the bird flies"; sarbura thi-lòt-si ne ka-chiru, "the old man having died, I am weeping"; ne-phu ke-so-kòn, "my head is aching badly." This tense, as in other languages, is often used historically for the past. The definite or determinate present is expressed by the same participle with -lo added: la kopi kànghoi-lo? "What is he doing (now)?" The habitual present is expressed by the verbal root with -lo: as vo-atum-ke ne-phu-athàk ingjar-lo, "the birds fly above our heads." The simple or narrative past is formed by the verbal root with -lo or -dèt added: la pu-lo or pu-dèt, "he said"; ne-phu so-dèt, "my head was aching"; la keri-aphi-si lòng-lo, "he, after searching, found it." Sometimes dèt and lo are used together: la ne ingtòn-dèt-lo, "he abused me." Dèt may also be used for the present when the state indicated by the verb is one that began in the past and still continues: e.g. "Why are you afraid?" may be rendered kopi apòtsi nang phere-dèt, or kopi apòtsi nàng kaphere? The complete past is indicated by the root with tànglo added: la-apòtsi ne dam-tànglo, "I went, or had gone, on his account"; telòng lòngle pho-tànglo, "the boat has touched ground." Tang is a verb meaning "to finish." There are besides a great number of other particles indicating past time used with particular verbs. Thus, with verbs meaning "to fall," bup and buk are common: hala che-koi-bup, "he fell down"; hèm ru-bup, "the house collapsed"; lòng-chòng kli-bup, "the upright memorial stone fell down"; lòng-pàk klo-buk, "the flat memorial stone fell down"; thèng-pi àngsòng-pèn nàng-klo-buk, "he fell down from the top of the tree." Such particles generally indicate not only past time but abruptness. A periphrastic past, with the root followed by inghoi-lo, "did," frequently occurs; this is probably an imitation of Assamese idiom. Here may be noticed the prefix nàng, used, as the specimens show, with great frequency in narrative. It has the effect of fixing the occurrence to a known place, and may generally be rendered "there." It is probable that this particle is originally the pronoun of the second person, and that it refers to the knowledge of the person addressed: "as you know," "as you see." The future is represented in two ways: (1) by -po added to the root, to indicate an action beginning now and continuing in the future; as itum nònke labàngso akàm apòtsi pu-po, "we will talk about this affair now;" and (2) by -ji added, for an action which commences later on; as badu arlèng-ta thi-ji, "all men will die" (i.e. at some future time). As -po includes the present in the case of continuing action, it may be, and often is, used in a present sense; -ji is restricted to future time. A compound future may be formed by adding to the root with -ji the words dòkdòk-lo: la thi-ji dòkdòk-lo, "he is just about to die"; àn cho-ji dòkdòk-lo, "it is near breakfast-time" (rice-eating); àn ik-ji dòkdòk-lo, "the rice is nearly all done." A doubtful future may be expressed by -ji added to the present participle: konàt chainòng a-òk-si dàk-si kedo-ji, "where should cow's flesh be here?" From the above it will be seen that there is much indefiniteness in the indications of time afforded by the Mikir verb: except tàng for the past complete, and -ji for the future, the other suffixes may, according to circumstances, be rendered by the past, present, or future; they may also on occasion be omitted altogether. But the context generally removes all ambiguity. Conditional phrases are formed by putting -te or -le, "if," at the end of the first member, and the second generally in the future with -ji or -po. Of the conditional future an example is nàng dàm-te, nàng la thèk-dàm-ji, "if you go, you will see him." The conditional past inserts asòn ("like, supposing that,") before -te: dohòn do-asòn-te, ne la nàm-ji, "if I had money, I would buy it." The conditional pluperfect modifies the second member thus: nàng dàm asòn-te, nàng la lòng-lòk apòtlo, "if you had gone, you would have got it"; nàng ne thàn asòn-te, ne la klèm tàng-lo, "if you had explained to me, I would have done it." The imperative is, for the second person, the bare root, or more usually the root strengthened by the addition of nòn or tha, and dialectically of noi; nòn (= "now") is the strongest form. The other persons are formed by the addition of nàng (a verb meaning "to be necessary") to the future in -po or present in -lo: "let us go" is i-tum dàm-po-nàng; "let us go to the field and plough," rit hai-bai dàm-lo-nàng. We may, for the third person, use the causative form of the verb: la-ke pedàm-nòn, "let him go." Participles. The present participle has the form of the adjective, with the prefixed ke- (ki-) or ka-; as kedàm, "going," ka-chiru, "weeping." The past participle is the root or the present participle with tàng added: dàm-tàng, "gone," thèk-tàng, "having seen," ka-pàngtu-tàng, "fattened." Perhaps the most used form of the verb, especially in narrative, is the conjunctive participle, which is either the bare root, or the root with -si; hèm che-voi-si thèk-lo, "having returned home, he saw." When the past is indicated, dèt is used, either with or without -si, as cho-dèt jun-dèt, sarbura, tòn-arlo kaibòng patu-joi-si, i-lo, "having finished eating and drinking, the old man, having quietly hidden his club in a basket, lay down"; Tèntòn, dohòn-alàngbòng lòng-si, rit dàm-de-dèt-si, kàt-jui-lo, "Tenton, having got the bamboo-joint with the money, without returning to the field, ran away." When the phrase in which the conjunctive participle occurs is terminated by an imperative, the suffix is not -si but -ra: "having eaten your rice, go," is àn cho-ra dàm-nòn; but "having eaten his rice, he went," is an chodèt-si dàm-lo. While -si links together parts of a narrative, -ra links together a string of imperatives. The infinitive or verbal noun is identical in form with the present participle; kum-kiròt tàngte kekàn arki nàng arju-lònglo, "he heard (got to hear) there (nàng) the sound (arki) of fiddle (kum) scraping (ki-ròt) and dancing (ke-kàn)." All words beginning with ke-, ki-, and ka- may therefore be regarded as (1) adjectives, (2) participles forming tenses of the verb, or (3) verbal nouns; and it will be seen from the analysis of the specimens how clearly this at first sight strange allocation of forms can be made to express the required sense. In all Tibeto-Burman languages the passive voice is either non-existent or little used; a sentence which in English would be stated passively is turned the other way, and appears in an active form. Thus--"Four trees were uprooted by the wind" would be rendered tomòn thèngpi ròng-phili pi-pur-koi-lo, "the wind uprooted four trees"; "this house has been thrown down by an earthquake" is chikli-si labàngso ahèm pi-ru-hup-lo, "an earthquake has thrown down this house." Sometimes a passive may be expressed by a periphrasis, as "I was beaten," ne kechòk èn-tàng, lit. "I received a beating." The only unquestionable example of a passive is in the case of past participles, and here the passive is expressed by the simple expedient of putting the participle before instead of after the noun: bàng kevàn ahòr, "the drink brought by people"; maja kelòng arlèng, "a man bewitched"; ne ke-pi a-àn ahòr, "the to-me-given rice and beer." This construction is exactly parallel to the method (explained above) of expressing the relative phrase by putting the adjective first, instead of after the noun, and is in fact another case of the same idiom. The participle, which may also (as just explained) be regarded as a verbal noun, comes before the subject of the sentence, because the action passes on to the subject, instead of emanating from it, as in an active construction. We are tempted to think that languages which lack what seems to European modes of thought such essential elements as a relative pronoun and a passive voice cannot be capable of any subtlety of expression; yet this phenomenon is common to forms of speech like Tibetan, Burmese, and Chinese, which possess vast literatures dealing with all kinds of subjects, and in which it is possible to render ideas of the greatest complexity and variety. Even in Europe, the clearest and most logical of languages, French, prefers to use the active form of phrase (with on) rather than the passive. The negative verb is a very interesting and remarkable feature of the language. A separate negative root, formed by prefixing or suffixing a negative particle, and conjugated in the same way as the positive, is indeed a common property of Tibeto-Burman speech; but in Mikir this secondary root is formed in a peculiar manner. The negating syllable -e is added to the primitive, as un, "can," un-e, "cannot"; òng, "be much," òng-e, "be not much"; i, "lie down," i-e, "not lie down." But when the root begins with a consonant or a nexus of consonants, and is monosyllabic, the consonant or nexus is repeated before the added vowel: thèk, "see, be able"; thèk-the, "not see, be unable"; dàm, "go," dàm-de, "not go"; kroi, "believe, obey," kroi-kre, "disbelieve, disobey"; mèk-pràng, "eye-open, awake," mèk-pràng-pre, "not awake." When the verb is of two or more syllables, the last is chosen for reduplication: inghoi, "do," inghoi-he, "not do"; ingjinso, "show mercy," ingjinso-se, "not show mercy"; chini (Ass. loan-word), "recognise," chini-ne, "not recognise." The secondary root thus obtained is treated in construction just like the positive root, and takes the tense-suffixes: pàk-ta pi-vàng-ve-dèt-lo, "anybody to give him (anything) came not." The time-index is, however, with negative verbs more often dropped as unnecessary, owing to the context showing what the time-relation is. In the imperative the reduplication is not used; the particle -ri is added to the positive root, with or without nòn as well: thèk-nòn, "see!"; thèk-ri, or thèk-ri-nòn, "see not!" It may be added that this method of forming the negative by reduplication is also applied to verbal adjectives in ke-, ki-, ka-, which thereupon usually drop the prefix: keso, "in pain, sick"; so-se, "not sick, well"; but kàngjinso, "merciful"; kàng-jinso-se, "merciless." Besides this organic negative, there is a periphrastic negative formed by adding the word ave, "is not": Arnàm abàng ave, kechèng ave, kapetàng ave, "God has no body, no beginning, no end" (lit. "God his body is not, beginning is not, end is not"). The a in ave is the usual a of relation, and may be dropped: alàm-ave "without a word"; làm-ve, "word-less, dumb." Ka- may be prefixed, forming kave, used as an adjectival negative: kopai (Ass. kopal), "fortune," kopai-kave, "unfortunate." Another negative used separately, in emphatic assertions, is kali: tovar nàng kepèk-ji kali, "the way I will by no means yield to you"; ne-thibuk kali, "it is not my water-jar." The causal verb is formed by prefixing the syllable pe-, pi-, pa- [41] to the root: this is probably the verb pi, meaning "to give"; e.g. cho, "eat," pecho, "feed"; tàng, "finish," petàng, "cause to finish, end"; ingrum, "be gathered together," pàngrum, "collect"; virdèt, "be lost," pi-virdèt, "destroy." This syllable takes precedure of che- in reflexive verbs: e-chainòng e-pa-chi-thu-koi-làng, "he has caused us to slaughter all our cows": here e- is the pronoun of the first person plural inclusive of the addressee; pa-, the causal prefix; chi-, the reflexive particle, indicating that the cattle slaughtered were their own; thu, a verb, "to kill by cutting"; koi, a particle indicating completeness; làng, the tense-suffix. Compound verbs meet us at every step in Mikir. Roots are heaped together, and the compound is closed by the tense-suffix. Ordinarily the first root determines the general meaning of the compound, the rest being adverbial supplements of modifying force:--chiru-pi-lèm-lo, "he pretended to weep" (chiru, "weep," lèm, "seem, appear," pi-lèm, "cause to seem, pretend"); ke-phlòng-dàm abàng, "somebody who will go and set fire (to the funeral pile)" (phlòng, "kindle," dàm, "go"); kroi-dun-lo, "she consented" (kroi, "agree, obey," dun, "go or be with another"); ne do-dun-ji-ma, "will you stay with me?" (do, "stay," dun, as above). The texts which follow supply a multitude of other examples. These adverbial supplements to verbs, inserted between the principal verb and the tense-suffixes, are a very characteristic feature of the language, and their proper use is one of the most difficult things for a learner to master. Certain roots take constant supplements of this kind, and are scarcely ever found without them; thus the verbs thi, "die," i, "lie down to sleep," and jàng, "close the eyes," are almost invariably followed by lòt; rèng, "to live," takes èt before verbal suffixes; lòng, "to get," takes lòk; chingbar, "to be equal (in size, weight, height)," and chingdòn, "to be equal in length," take chit; inghòn, "to love," and ingjinso, "to pity," both take duk; jòk and thèt, both meaning "to escape, get loose," take phlòt. The complements for verbs meaning "to fall" have been mentioned above (p. 82). These supplements frequently cause the tense-endings to be dispensed with, in which case the action is understood to be in the narrative past or historic present. No doubt most of them were originally separate verbal roots, but are not now capable of being used separately. The brief outline given above will, it is hoped, enable the reader to apprehend the general construction of the narratives which follow, and display the language in action; for further analysis reference should be made to the notes appended to the texts. I. CHÒNGHOLOSO ATOMO. FROG STORY. Arni-si miso-ròngpo a-òng àn che-thòn-dàmlo. Chòngholoso Day-one a big black ant (to) his uncle rice to carry went. a frog tovar ingni-thip. Ànsi miso pulo: "Tovar ne the way sat down and blocked. Then the ant said: "The way for me pèk-tha, chòngholoso; ne ne-òng àn chethòn-dàm-ji." Chòngholoso leave free, frog; I my-uncle rice carry-go-will." The frog pudèt: "Ne-rum ne-lut-thòt-ra dàm-te: pàkta answered: "Under me entering (creeping)| go your way: every one ne-rum-si dàm-hòr-le." Miso pudèt: "Ne-òng a-àn bòr under me passes." The ant said: "My uncle's rice leaf-bundle do-kòk-le, pusi nàng-rum-le nàng-kelut-thèk-ji?" Ànsi being tied up, how you-underneath enter, creep, shall I be able?" So chòngho-ta pèk-pe, miso-ta dàm-de. Ànsi nerlo the frog would not give way, the ant could no go. So day chitim-lo. Ànsi miso--"Ai, ne-òng àn-ingchir-si became middle. So the ant-- "Oh, my uncle rice-hunger-in aning-ne-thi-po" pulo; chòngholoso-arum lut-thòt-lo. Àn-lo angry with me will be" said; the frog-under he entered, crept. Then chòngholoso miso-athàk ingni-dun-chèt-lo. Lasi miso-ròngpo the frog the ant-upon sat-down-flat. Thereupon the big black ant chòngholoso a-mi kòr-ràk. Ànsi chòngho aning-thi-ning-thi the frog's loins bit-severely. Then the frog becoming very angry karle-sarpo-a-dòn chòn-rai. Karle-sarpo squirrel-big-old's ladder (on) jumped and broke. The big old squirrel aningthi-ningthi hànthar-a-kòk ròt-pèt. Hànthar becoming very angry gourd's stem cut in two. The gourd aningthi-ningthi phàk-belèngpi a-moi klo-dup. Phàk-belèngpi becoming very angry a wild boar's back (on) fell plump. The wild boar aningthi-ningthi lo-bòng thimur-phàk. Lobòng becoming very angry a plantain-tree rooted up. The plantain-tree aningthi-ningthi vo-arbipi a-tar sàp-rai. Vo-arbipi becoming very angry a sparrow 's nest struck and broke. The sparrow aningthi-ningthi ingnar no-thòng-po a-no lut-thòt. becoming very angry an elephant deaf-big 's ear entered. Ingnar no-thòng-po aningthi-ningthi arlòng helàng-phlut. The elephant deaf-big becoming very angry a rock tore up suddenly. Arlòng aningthi-ningthi Recho- a-so kònglòng-pi-bup. Ànsi The rock becoming very angry the King 's son rolling-down killed. Then Recho nàng-bisar-lo: "Màt-si ne-po pithi-lòtlo?" "Ai, arlòng-si the King made an enquiry: "Who my son has killed?" "Oh, the rock kònglòng-bup," pulo. Ànsi arlòng arju-dàmlo: rolled down on him," they said. Then the rock he summoned to answer: "O arlòng, arlòng! pi-apòt nàng ne-so kònglòng-bup?" "O rock, rock! for what reason you my son did roll down upon?" Arlòng pudèt: "Che! Hèmphu-arnàm-recho, pi ne kònglòng-bup-be-ji? The rock said: "Oh! Lord-God-King, how I to roll down-not was I? Ingnar no-thòngpo-si ne helàng-phlut-le ne doi-phit-lo; The elephant big-deaf me torn up suddenly having, me pushed out; ne-ke ne-ri ave, ne-kèng ave, kolo-pu-si as for me, (to) me hands are not, (to) me legs are not, how then cher-chàk-thèk-ji? Nàng-sopo ne kekònglòng a-tovar dokòksi, withstand could I? Your honourable son my rolling down-path being-in, ne kònglòng-bup-lo-te." I rolled down upon him accordingly." Ànsi Recho pulo: "Mai! la ingnar no-thòng-po Then the king said: "Oh! that elephant deaf-big la-ànsèt bòn-he"-- pusi, ingnar no-thòng-po that so much (trouble) caused"-- saying, elephant deaf-big arju-dàm-lo. "O ingnar ingnar! kopi-apòt nàng arlòng summoned. "O elephant, elephant! for what reason you the rock helàng-phlut?" Ingnar pudèt: "Che! pi ne tore up suddenly?" The elephant answered: "Oh, how I helàng-phlut-phle-ji, Hèmphu arnàm? Vo-arbipi ne-no was to help tearing it up, Lord God? The sparrow my ear ne-kelut-thòt-si, ne a-bidi thèk-the-dèt-lo-le, la-helo ne having entered into, my wits having lost control of me, therefore I arlòng helàng-phlut." the rock tore up suddenly." Ànsi Recho pudèt--"Mai! la vo-arbipi la-ànpin bòn-he" Then the King said--"Oh! that sparrow that so much (trouble) caused" pu, arju-dàmlo. "O vo-arbipi voarbipi! ingnar a-no saying, summoned. "O sparrow, sparrow! elephant's ear kopi-apòt nàng lut-thòt?" Voarbipi thàkdèt-- "Che! Hèmphu! pi for what reason did you enter?" The sparrow answered-- "Oh! Lord! how ne lut-le-ji? lobòng ne-tar I was I not to enter? the plantain-stalk my nest kesàp-rai-le, la-helo ne-ning oi-òng, ne falling on having broken, therefore my mind being very disturbed, I ingnar a-no lut-thòt." elephant's ear entered." Ànsi Recho pu--"Mai! la lobòng lapu Then the King said--"Oh! that plantain-stalk, it seems; ànpin bòn-he"-- pusi arju-dàm-lo. "O lobòng lobòng! so much (trouble) caused"-- saying he summoned. "O plantain, plantain! nàng kopi-apòt vo-arbipi a-tar sàp-rai?" you for what reason the sparrow's nest fell upon and broke?" Lobòng pudèt--"Che! pi ne sàp-rai-re-ji, Hèmphu The plantain said--"Oh! how I was not to fall and break, Lord| arnàm? Phàk-belèng-pi-si ne kathimur-phàk-le: ne God? The wild boar me rooted me up suddenly: I thimur-phàk-lo-te ne ingkur kave-dèt-lo-le: kopu-si ne having been rooted up, I root none had at all: how I karjàp thèk-ji-làng? Thàngbàk ne-ri standing-up was to be able to continue? Any to me-hand ne-kèng le-kedo kali-dèt-le." to me-leg being, existing, not-at-all there is." "Mai! la phàk pu àn-pin bon-he," pu "Oh! that pig, it seems, all the (trouble) caused," saying Recho pulo. Ànsi phak-aphàn arju-dàm-lo. "O phàk phàk! the King said. So the pig (accus.) he summoned. "O pig, pig! pi-apòt nàng lobòng thimur-phàk"? Phàk pudèt "Pi ne for what reason you the plantain rooted up"? The pig answered "How I thimur-phàk-phe-ji? Ne chopàn-vèk, mamàtsi could help rooting it up? (as) I was feeding, grazing, suddenly, hànthar ne-moi keklo-dàp-le: la-helo keso-òng the gourd my back (on) came tumbling down: therefore being in great pain ne lobòng thimur-phàk." I the plantain rooted up." Ànsi Recho-- "Mai! hànthar pu àn-pin bòn-he" So the king-- "Oh! the gourd, then, all this (trouble) caused," pusi hànthar arju-dàm-lo. "O hànthar hànthar! pi-apòt saying the gourd summoned. "O gourd, gourd! for what phàk-belèng-pi a-moi nàng klo-dup?" "Pi ne reason the wild boar 's back (on) you fell-plump?" "How I klo-dup-de-ji, Hèmphu Arnàm? Karle-si ne-kòk could help falling? Lord God? The squirrel my stem (to me) ne-keròt-pèt-le, ne-ke thàngbàk ne-ri, ne-kèng having cut through, I at all to me hand, to me foot le-kedo kali-dèt, ne-kòk isi-pèt àn-helo, la-le there-not-existing, my stem, one-only, so much having, that if ne ròt-pèt-lo-te, ne klo-nàng-po. Phàk-belèng-pi to me is cut through, I must necessarily fall. The wild boar a-moi keklo-nàng-dup." 's back (on) falling became necessary." Ànsi Recho pu-le-lo--"Mai! la karle pu àn-pin So the King said again--"Oh! that squirrel then so much bònhe" pusi karle arju-dàm-lo. "O karle (trouble) caused" saying the squirrel summoned. "O squirrel, karle! kopi-apòt nàng hànthar a-kòk ròt-pèt?" squirrel! for what reason did you the gourd 's stem cut through?" Karle pudèt-- "Che! pi ne ròt-re-ji, Hèmphu Arnàm? The squirrel said-- "Oh, how I was not to cut it, Lord God? Chòngholoso-si ne-dòn chòn-rai-le. Lasi ne tovar The frog my ladder (on) jumping broke. Therefore to me a road ave-dèt-lo: ne hànthar a-kòk ròt-pèt." did not remain: I the gourd 's stem had to cut." Recho pudèt-- "Mai! la chòngho la-pu àn-pin bòn-he" The King said-- "Oh! that frog, it seems, so much (trouble) caused" pusi arju-dàm-lo. "O chòngholoso chòngholoso! kopi-apòt nàng saying he summoned. "O frog, frog! for what reason you karle a-dòn chòn-rai?" Chòngho thàkdèt-- "Pi ne the squirrel's ladder jumping on broke?" The frog answered-- "How I chòn-rai-re-ji? Miso-ròng-po-si ne-mi was to help jumping on and breaking? The big black ant my loins, ne-ke kòr-ràk-le: la keso-òng-si ne even me, bit hard: that pain-great-from I karle-adòn-bo-po ne chini-ne-dèt-si chòn-rai-te." squirrel's ladder (honorific) I not knowingly jumped upon and broke." Recho pu-le-lo-- "Mai! miso pu àn-pin bòn-he" The King said again-- "Oh! the ant, then, caused all the trouble" pusi arju-dàm-lo. "O miso miso! pi-apòt nàng chòngholoso-a-mi saying summoned. "O ant, ant! what-for did you the frog's loins kòr-ràk?" Miso pudèt-- "Pi ne kòr-ràk-re-ji? bite severely?" The ant said-- "How I was to help biting him? Adàp ne-òng àn che-thòn-dàm-lo: Chòngho In the morning to my uncle rice I was going along carrying: the frog tovar ingni-thip. La-lo ne 'tovar ne pèk-tha' the road sitting down blocked. Thereupon I 'road to me free-leave' pulo: 'ne-rum-le lut-nòn' pu. Ne lut-thòt-lo: chòngho said: 'me underneath creep' he said. I crept under him: the frog ne-thàk ne ingni-thip; lasi ne a-mi kòr-ràk." on the top of me sat down tight; therefore I his loins bit-severely." Ànsi Recho pulo--"Nàng bàng-hini kelèt-dèt." Miso-ke Then the King said--"You persons-two guilty-are." The ant chujèng-pèn kòk-chèk-lo: nòn a-vàm chèng-jàn. hair of head-with they tied-firmly: now his-waist is very slender. Chòngho-ke tarme-làng-bòng-pèn sàp-phràt-phràt; lasi The frog a blistering creeper-with they soundly thrashed; therefore nòn phròk-se-nòk-tòk. now he is speckled all over. NOTES. This simple and direct narrative, easy of analysis, affords an excellent illustration of the mechanism of Mikir speech. First, we observe that the indication of time is put at the beginning of the sentence: arni-si, "one day"; adàp, "in the morning." Then follows the subject, then the object, and last the verb, with all its qualifications. The most frequent conjunction is ànsi, "and, so," which appears to be made up of àn, the particle indicating quantity, and si, the particle indicating locality, used also for the conjunctive participle; the meaning would then be--"so much having passed (what follows comes next)." Àn-ke, àn-le and àn-lo have the same force. For the tenses we find the usual suffixes, -lo, -dèt, for the narrative past, -po for the present-future, and -ji for the future. In the narrative a much-used auxiliary is -le, which means "having arrived." The passage is remarkable for the number of cases in which, no ambiguity being possible, the tense-particle is omitted, and the past is expressed by the bare root, without, or more commonly with, an adverbial supplement. Thus, we have pulo, pudèt, and pu for "said"; ingni-thip, "he sat down and blocked," kòr-ràk, "bit severely," chòn-rai, "jumped upon and broke," ròt-pèt, "cut in two," klo-dup, "fell plump," thimur-phàk, "rooted up," sàp-rai, "struck and broke," lut-thòt, "entered," helàng-phlut, "tore up suddenly," pi-bup, "killed by tumbling on him," chò-pàn-vèk, "was feeding, grazing," sàp-phràt-phràt, "beat soundly." Then, we notice that the great majority of these cases are examples of roots qualified by the addition of a particle which, while not used separately by itself, gives energy and definiteness to the verbal root; this method of heightening the force of verbs is a great characteristic of Mikir diction, and is at once the chief beauty and the chief difficulty (to a foreigner) of the language. The adverbial particles so used are very numerous, but they are appropriated to particular verbal roots, and if they were wrongly applied the result would be nonsense. Thus, the particle lòt is used with three verbs only, thi, "die," i, "lie down," and jàng "close the eyes," and always precedes the verbal suffixes with these roots: it cannot be used with any other. Thòt, again, always occurs with lut, "to enter," jòk and var, "to throw." Bup conveys the idea of a sudden blow or fall, and is used with verbs of falling or striking. Dàp and dup seem to have much the same force. Pèt, koi, klip are particles used to indicate completeness; lut-pèt-lo, "all have gone in," ròt-pèt-lo, "he cut through," cho-koi-lo, "he ate up," thu-koi-lo, "he killed them all," cho-klip-lo, "he devoured them." Several of these auxiliary particles seem to be onomatopoetic. Much resembling the use of these particles are the cases in which verbal roots are combined together to form a single expression. Thus, in our story, thòn-dàm-lo "he carrying went"; do-kòk-le "remaining tied-up"; ingni-dun-chèt-lo "he sat down suddenly (chèt) when the ant was passing (dun)" (dun means "to be with," and is constantly used as an auxiliary, but can also be employed alone in the sense "to go with"); arju-dàm-lo "he summoned to answer"; ne klo-nàng-po "I must necessarily fall" (nàng, verb of necessity). The story gives a number of examples of the remarkable Mikir negative verb: pèk-pe, "did not give way (pèk)"; dàm-de, "did not go"; pi ne kònglòng-bup-be-ji, "how was I not to roll down upon him and smash him?" where the negative syllable be borrows the initial consonant of the qualifying particle bup; similarly, helàng-phlut-phle "not suddenly root up"; sàp-rai-re "not strike and break"; chòn-rai-re "not jump upon and break"; chini-ne-dèt-si "not knowing" (where chini is a loan-word from Assamese). As regards vocabulary, tha in ne-pèk-tha is the imperative particle: another such particle (rarely occurring) is te in ne lut-thòt-ra dàm-te; ra is used as the suffix of the conjunctive participle in a string of imperatives. Hòr in dàm-hòr-le indicates plurality: "every one has to pass under me"; other such particles are jo and jàm. Ta in chòngho-ta and miso-ta gives definiteness and emphasis; so also ke in ne-ke, &c. Sarpo in karle sarpo means "big chief": po is a syllable added to give honour and dignity. Notice intensiveness indicated by reduplication in aningthi-ningthi, "very angry"; ning-thi, angry, is made up of ning, mind, and thi to be vexed (also to die). Hànthar: see note on p. 46. Ròt-pèt means to cut down a slender stem or twig by drawing a knife across it: pi-pèt to cut down a thick trunk of a tree; ròt is used for drawing a bow across a fiddle in kum-kiròt "fiddle-scraping." Belèng means a shovel or tray for winnowing rice; phàk-belèng-pi is a wild pig, because he roots about in the earth with his snout like a shovel; -pi is a syllable used to form augmentatives, as -so indicates a diminutive. Bisar, to hold a judicial inquiry, is Assamese. Hèmphu, "owner," the God Mikirs belong to. Vo-arbipi, "a small bird, the size of a sparrow" (not the sparrow itself, which in Mikir is vo-puru). Ne chopàn-vèk, "I was grazing"; chopàn is used of feeding for animals only; vèk (or vèk-vèk) is a particle indicating continuance. Mamàtsi is used of some sudden and unpleasant interruption: klèm-vèk-vèk mamàtsi thi-lo, "he died suddenly as he was working"; ne àn cho-vèk mamàtsi ne chòk-dèt, "he beat me while I was eating." Notice, finally, nòn, the particle most often used to indicate a strong imperative, here in its original sense of "now"; in this meaning it is usually emphasised by adding ke or le, nònke, nònle. II. JÀNGRESO PÈN A-ÒNG-ATUM ATOMO. THE ORPHAN AND HIS UNCLES ' STORY. Hako inut ahèm-epi asopo inut-pèt do; la Once on a time one widow a son only one had; she achèkle-mar kòrte bàng-theròk do. Ànsi arni-si (woman's) brothers (plural) brothers persons-six had. Now one day arni-kàngsàm a-òngmar-atum vàng-si in the cool of the day (evening) his maternal uncles having come jàngreso-aphàn nàng-hànglo-- "Osá! ru cho-du-dàm-nàng." the orphan (accus.) called-to-- "Nephew! fish-trap set up-go-let-us." Ànsi jàngreso-ta dun-lo. Ànsi aòng-mar So the orphan went with them. Then his uncles, kòrte bàng-theròk-ke làng-thàk-si pàt me-sèn-si ru the brothers persons-six, up-stream a dam having well built the trap du-lo. Jàngreso-ke a-òngmar-atum a-ru-pàt a-ber-si arlòng set up. The orphan his uncles ' trap-dam below stones du-i phàng-o-phàng-a-si ru du-lo, ànsi hèm having set up carelessly, disorderly, trap set up, and home nàng-che-voi-lo. Ànsi latum adàp ru returned. Then they in the morning the trap-their che-vàt-dàm-lo. A-òngmar-atum a-ru-pàt àn kepàt-peme-ta, went to inspect. His uncles ' trap-dam so very well-built though, chikung-chikàng-ta che-var-thòt-the; jàngreso a-ru one cray-fish even had not thrown itself into it; the orphan's trap puke, òk kejàng a-ru tèngsèt. Ànsi as for, fish holding, entering his trap was quite full Then a-òngmar-atum pulo-- "Osá! netum dàk ru pàt-po, nàngli-ke his uncles said-- "Nephew! we here trap will build, do you làng-ber-le pàt-dàm-thu-nòn." Ànsi jàngreso a-ru-pàt down-stream go and set your dam again." So the orphan's trap-dam (in) a-òng-mar-atum a-ru du-si, jàngreso-ke làngbersi his uncles their trap having set up, the orphan down stream pàt-dàm-thu-lo; bònta òk kejàng lapu-thàk-thàk, again built his dam; but the fish holding just that same way, a-òngmar-atum a-ru-ke òk-ejòn-nàt-ta jàng-thòt-the, jàngreso the uncles ' trap one single fish even did not hold, the orphan's a-ru-ke òk kejàng plèngsèt-plèngsèt. Ànsi adàp-vàng-ta jàngreso trap fish holding was quite full. So morning-every the orphan's a-ru-pàt a-òng-atum che-rai-ver-lo. Lasi trap-dam his uncles took for themselves continually. Therefore adàp-vàng alòng kaprèk ru-pàt selèt-òng-si, every morning a place different (in) trap-set-up becoming very weary, adàp-isi-ke ru du-tekàng-ke-dètsi, bàp a-phàng-athàk bi morning one the trap not setting up at all, grass clump upon placing tekàng-kòk. Ànsi adàp le-lo, a-òngmar-atum vàng-si he left it. So morning arrived, his uncles having come jàngreso-aphàn nàng-hàng-lo: "Osá, to the orphan called out: "Nephew! ru chevàt-dàm-le-lo-nàng." Ànsi jàngreso pulo: "Neli-ke our traps let us go again and visit." Then the orphan said: "As for me, ru-ta du-tekàng-ke; da bònta, nànglitum-ari a trap I have not even set up; come, nevertheless, (as) your companion nàng-dun-ji," pusi dun-lo. Ànsi a-ru I will go with you," so saying he went with them. Then his trap che-làng-dàmlo. Vo-thung lut-thòt thèk-dàm-lo. Ànsi he went to look at. A wood-pigeon having entered he found. So labàngso a-vo-thung ari chekòksi hèm che-vàn-lo. that wood pigeon his cord (with) having tied up home he bought. Labàngso a-jàngreso chainòng-aso-ta e-jòn do, la kàngtu That orphan a cow's child (a calf) also one had, it fat puke matha-thèk-the jadi-thèk-the, nei-bòt àn-pin. Ànke so very, as could not be imagined (doublet) very sleek so greatly. Now a-òngmar-atum làng-un-e-si labàngso his uncles to look at-being unable (through envy) that a-chainòng-aso thu-pèt-lo. Ànsi jàngreso labàngso calf killed (entirely). Then the orphan that a-chainòng-aso a-rèng lumsi akèng-ehòng ha calf's skin having taken off, leg one to a distance bamòn kiri-po a-hèm pòn-si patu-dàm-joi-lo. Ànsi a brahman rich-big's house (to) taking, hid it quietly. Then jàngreso: "Mai! hèm-ta chainòng-a-òk angnim-hai-òng-he!" the orphan (said): "Oh! the house cow's flesh (of) smells strongly!" Ànke bamòn-po aningthi-si pulo: "Tèke nàng-kòrdut-pi a-osó! Then the big brahman, becoming angry, said: "Tiger-bitten boy! konàt achainòng-a-òksi dàk-le ke-do-ji? Ne-ke bamòn-le. Nàng where cow's flesh here should be? I am a brahman. You peklàng thèk-ser-ma-si: thèkthe-le nàng-pràn produce, show, must be able to: you cannot-if, your life nàng-èn-ji." Ànsi jàngreso pulo-- "Dei, tàngte ne I will take here." Then the orphan said-- "Very well, then I ri-po," pu-si ri-lo. Ri-phàng-o-phàng-a-si, alàng will search," saying he searched: searching carelessly, he kapatu-alòng dàm-si chainòng-aso a-kèng vung-dàm-phlut hiding-place (to) going the calf's leg pull out suddenly inghoi-lo: "Làng-nòn, chainòng a-òk do," pu-- "ne did: "See-now, cow's flesh there is," saying-- "I nàng pu-lo-he!" Ànsi bamòn po-- "Bàng-kaprèk-atum told you so!" Then the big brahman-- "people other (plur.) vàng-thèk-dun-te, ne-jàt virdèt-ji" pu, phere-si come-see-together-if, my-caste will be destroyed" saying, fearing jàngreso-aphàn pulo: "Jàngreso, po-arnàm-po! pàk-tà thàn-ri-nòn! dohòn the orphan-to said: "Orphan, my good sir! any one do not tell! money màntung-isi nàng pi-po"-- pusi dohòn màntung-isi pilo. Ànsi a cloth-full-one you I will give," saying money a cloth-full gave. Then jàngreso labàngso adohòn pòn-si hèm che-voi-lo. Hèm the orphan that money taking with him home returned. House che-le-lo, ànsi a-pei che-pu-lo: "ne-òng-atum a-tòn his he arrived, and his mother (to) said: "my uncles' basket hàng-dàm-tha." Ànsi a-pei dàm-si hàng-dàm-lo: "Ik-mar-li! nàngli go-ask-for." So his mother going asked for it: "Brothers! your osá kipu, 'tòn tàngho.'" Ànsi tòn nàng-lo-lo. Ànsi nephew says, 'a basket I want'" So a basket they sent. Then hèm-epi a-ik-mar-atum tòn pisi the widow's brothers the basket having given che-pu-lo-- "Tòn pi kànghoi-i-ji-ne? said among themselves-- "The basket what is to do with? làng-dun-tòn-tha-- pusi akibi-abàng toi-dun-lo; ànsi la go and peep (imper.)-- saying their youngest one they sent and he nàng-làng-dun-tòn-lo, ànke hotòn-pèn dohòn ketèng there went and watched, and the basket-with money measuring nàng-thèk-dun-lo. Ànsi nàng-kelàng-dun-tòn-abàng hèm there he saw. Then there-the-one-who-had-watched-person house che-voi-si, a-ik-mar thàn-dàm-lo-- "La e-osá his having returned to, his brothers informed-- "That our-nephew konàt-tòng kelòng-dàm-lo-ne? hotòn-pèn dohòn ketèng wherever get-did he (all this money)? with a basket money measure chinàm sai-se." Ànsi dohòn tèng-tàng-dèt jàngreso really he has to." So the money measuring-finished-having the orphans a-pei-ta tòn thòn-dàm-lo, ànke achèkle-mar nàng-pu-dun-lo mother the basket returned, and her brothers there said to her "Osá nàng-toi-tha." Ànsi hèm-epi hèm nàng-che-le-si "Nephew here send." So the widow home having arrived asopo-aphàn che-pulo-- "Nàng òng-atum kipu 'Vàng-tha-tu tàngho her son to said-- "Your uncles say 'Come here, we want you, po.'" Ànsi jàngreso-ta dàmlo. Ànke a-òng-atum nàng arju-lo-- "Konàt father.'" So the orphan went. And his uncles there asked-- "Where adohòn-si nàngli kelòng-dàm?" Ànsi jàngreso pulo: all this money you obtained?" And the orphan said: "Chainòng-a-òk a-nàm: nàngli-tum-ne-kithu-pi-pèt a-chainòng "Cow's flesh (of) price (it is): (by) you my killed-entirely cow's a-òk-si neli kejòr-dàm; chetàngte chehàng-jo flesh I went a-selling; it not being sufficient, together they asked 'àn-pin làng?'" Ànsi aòng-mar arju-thu-le-lo: "Tàngte 'is there only so much?'" Then his uncles asked again: "Then chainòng-a-òk jòr-dàm-te la-tum ènji-làng-ma?" Ànsi cow's flesh go a-selling if (we), they will taking-go on?" And jàngreso pulo-- "En-ji làng-te; nàngli-tum-ke the orphan said-- "They will go on taking certainly; you chainòng-do-o-para lale thu-koi-ra a-òk cows having many because, therefore killing them all their flesh jòr-dàm-te, ko-ànsi dohòn kevàn-ji?" Ànsi a-òngmar if you go selling how much money you will bring?" So his uncles kòrte-bang-theròk abàng-phu ejòn chainòng thu-si a-òk bahar brothers the six each one one cow having killed, its flesh load pòn-si jòr-dàm-lo, ànsi jàngreso thàn-dun-lo-- having taken, went to sell it, and the orphan explained to them-- "Nàngli-tum hala bamòn kiri-po a-ròng-le jòr-dàm-nòn: "You that (distant) brahman rich-big's village in go and sell: la-ròng le-lo-te 'chainòng a-òk that village (at) when you arrive, 'cow's flesh èn-ji-làng-ma' pu-ra arju-nòn." Ànsi latum will (any one) go on taking?' saying ask." So these kòrte-bàng-theròk chainòng a-òk pònsi dàmlo, ha bamòn-aròng brothers six cow's flesh taking went, that Brahman's village le-si, "Chainòng-a-òk èn-ji làng ma?" pu having arrived, "Cow's flesh will (any one) take more?" saying arju-lo. Ànsi "èn-ji-làng, vàn-nòn," pu asked. And "we will take more, bring it here," saying nàng-hàng-lo. Ànsi bamòn-po a-hèm le-lo. Ànsi they called out. So the big brahman's house they reached. Then bamòn-po ròng-isi asàngho the big brahman's village-whole inhabitants, che-pàngrum-pèt-si, la chainòng-a-òk having collected all together, those cow's flesh kejòr-dàm-atum kòrte bàng-theròk, nèp-si, a-ri bringing to sell-people, the six brothers, having seized, their hands kòk-krei-si, jasemèt chòk-si pulo: "Netum bamòn-le: tied firmly having, severely having beaten, said: "We brahmans are: 'chainòng-aòk èn-ji ma?' pu nàng 'cow's flesh will any one take?' saying, you nàng-katirva-hai?" pu-si lo-lo. La chainòng-a-òk here-solicit a customer dare?" saying let them go. These cow's-flesh kevàn-atum-ta hèm che-voi-lo, ànsi tovar bringing persons home their own went, and on the way chingvai-pòn-lo: "Mai! àn-le alàng jangreso e-kechobei! took counsel together: "Oh! how much that orphan us has cheated! e-chainòng e-haidi e-pa-chi-thu-koi-làng; aphu-thàk-ta our cattle (doublet) he has caused us to kill all; over and above that e-rèng e-hu e-ka-peso. Apòt-ke our skin (doublet) to us he has caused to smart. Therefore kele-pèn a-hèm me-kei-dàm-po-nàng." Ànsi hèm immediately on arriving his house fire-set-to let-us-go." So home che-le-lo ànke jàng-reso a-hèm me-kei-dàm-dut inghoi-lo. Ànsi they arrived, and the orphan's house fire-setting did. Then jàngreso atum hini chibu-si hèm me-kecho the orphan baskets-two having woven, house-fire-eaten, devoured (of) aphelo hum-si bahar pòn-lo, ànsi ha mèk-keso ashes having collected a load took, and that (distant) sore-eyed aròng le-lo. Labàngso aròng arlèng (people's) village went to. That village (of) men, abàng-phu-ta amèk-keso-abàng àngse. Ànke phelo a-bahar-pèn each one of them, sore-eyed folk were only. So ashes (of) a load-with jàngreso latum nàng-thèksi nàng-arju-lo-- "Nàng kopi the orphan they having seen, called out to him-- "Thou what for kevàng ladak?" Jàngreso thàk-dèt-- "Ai nàngtum aròng comest thou hither?" The orphan answered-- "Oh! your village mèk-keso a-vur do-tàng-pu arju-lòngsi ne sore eyes disease has finished getting, thus having got to hear, I mèk-keso a-bàp nàng-kejòr." Ànsi latum pulo-- (for) sore-eyed people medicine here am selling." Then they said-- "Ai! tàngte me-òng-chòt-lo, po-arnàm-po!" pusi "Oh! then (that) is very good indeed, my good sir!" so saying ròng-isi asàngho dohòn chi-rung-si dohòn-bahar-isi the whole village inhabitants money having collected, of money load one jàngreso nàng-pilo. Ànsi jàngreso pulo: "Labàngso a-bàp to the orphan there-gave. Then the orphan said: "That medicine nònke chi-hi-ri-tha: mo ne tovar immediately do not apply (rub) to yourselves: afterwards I the road ebèng lelo-te, 'chi-hi-nòn' pu ne nàng-pupo, a piece have gone when, 'apply (rub) it' saying I will tell you, àn-le chi-hi-nòn." Ànsi dohòn-bahar-isi phelo a-nàm then (and not before) apply it." Then money-load-one ashes (of) price jàngreso lòng-si, hèm chevoilo. Ànke la tovar me the orphan having got, home to his returned. When he road a little nàng-le-lo, mèk-a-vur-kelòng-atum jàngreso-aphàn had gone eye disease who had got people The orphan-to 'chi-hi-nòn-tu-ma?' pu hàng-lo. Jàngreso nàng-thàk-dèt "shall we apply it now?" saying called out. The orphan answered "tha"; tebòk-hèt tik-ke "tha" pu-bòm-si la "wait"; near so long as, "wait" saying having continued, he ha heloving le-lo; ànke "nàng-pho-dun-un-e-lo" pu to a distance arrived; and "here reach to me they cannot" saying matha-lo, "bàp chi-hi-nòn" pu jàngreso he thought, "the medicine rub in now" saying, the orphan nàng-hàng-lo. Ànsi mèk-keso-atum there called out. Then eyes the sufferers from pain jàngreso-kevàn-aphelo a-mèk che-hi-lo. La bàp orphan-brought-ashes on their eyes rubbed. That medicine kachi-hi-pèn-apara, amèk ki-kru puke matha-thèk-the applying from at once their eyes smarted so much, it cannot be imagined jadi thèk-the: amèk keso tàn-muchòt che-plàng-lo. Ànsi latum (doublet): their eyes sore more much became. Then they chipulo: "Mai! àn-le alàng e-ke-chobei tekàng: la said to one another: "Oh! so much he us having cheated has left: he vàng-thu-lo-te, a-ri kòk-dòng-ra chòk-nàng." Jàngreso-ke hem comes-again-if, his hands tying fast let us beat him." The orphan home che-le-si apei-aphàn "ne-òng-atum ahotòn èn-dàm-le-tha" pu having come his mother-to "my uncles' basket take-go-again," saying toi-le-lo. Ànsi hèm-epi a-ikmar-atum a-hèm hotòn he sent again. Then the widow her brothers' house basket hàng-dàm-le-lo. Ànsi hotòn nàng-lo-si latum kòrte-bàng-theròk to ask-went again. Then the basket having sent they brothers six said chi-pu-le-lo-- "Da, akibi, làng-dun-le-tha; again among themselves-- "Go, youngest, watch again; hotòn pi-tòng kànghoi-i-ji-ne?" Ànsi (with) the basket what in the world is he going to do?" Then akibi-abàng nàng-làng-dun-tòn-le-lo. Jàngreso dohòn the youngest went there to watch secretly again. The orphan the money ketèng nàng-thèk-dun-le-lo. Ànke nàng-kelàng-dun-tòn abàng hèm measuring there he saw again. Then there watching-secretly person home che-voi-si à-ikmar che-thàn-dàm-le-lo-- "E-osa returning his brothers (to) explained, related, again-- "Our nephew chu-aphàn-te nòn dohòn kevàn òng-muchòt le-lo." Ànke latum than last time now money bringing much more has arrived." Then they kòrte-bàng-theròk jàngreso-alòng dàm-si arju-dàm-lo--"Konàt the six brothers the orphan-near going asked--"Where adohòn-si nàngli lòng-dam-o-lo?" Ànsi jàngreso (all) this money you have got so much more?" Then the orphan nàng-thàk-dun-lo-- "Nàngli-tum-me-ne kekei-pidut a-hem a-phelo there answered them-- "(By) you fire my applied having house, its ashes a-nàm. Neli phelo kejòr-dàm-alòng 'kedòr-de' pu price (it is). I ashes selling-place (in) 'it is not enough' saying hàng-jo: 'àn-pin vàn-thu-tha' pusi pu. Ne-li hèm-ke they cried: 'just so much bring again' saying they said. My house bihèk-si, a-phelo òng-e-dèt; nàngli-tum ahèm-ke being small, its ashes not much were; Your houses, the-dung-para, lale me kei-ra a-phelo jòr-dàm-te, since they are large, therefore fire applying the ashes go selling-if, dohòn-le nàngli-tum ko-ànsi kevàn-ji? Kevàn-si nàngli-tum wealth ye how much would bring? To bring it you un-e." Ànsi a-òngmar kòrte-bàng-theròk would be unable." Then his uncles the six brethren chi-pulo: "Tàngte itum-ta e-hèm me said among themselves: "Then to our also houses fire chekei-dàm-po-nàng." Ànke hèm me chekei-dàm-si, having applied let us go." Then houses fire their having-set-to, hèm a-phelo hum-si kòrte abàng-phu-ta house-ashes having gathered, the brothers each individually bahar-un-tik bahar-un-tik pòn-lo. Ànsi jàngreso as much as he could carry took. Then the orphan thàn-dun-le-lo: "Ha mèk-keso-aròng-le pòn-nòn; explained to them again: "To that eye-sore-village up to take, carry; ha ròng-a-kung le-lo-te, 'Phelo èn-ji-ma?' that distant village near when you arrive, 'Ashes will you take?' pura-punòn." Ànsi latum kòrte-bàng-theròk dàmlo. Hà mèk-keso-atum saying say." So they brothers six went. That sore eyed people's aròng pàng-le-lo, ànsi arju-lo--"Phelo èn-ji-ma?" Ànsi village near arrived, and asked--"Ashes will you take?" Then mèk-keso-àtum "Vàn-tha" pu nàng-hàng-lo; ànsi latum the people with sore eyes "Bring it here" saying called out; then they dàm-si ròng le-lo; kele-pèn ari going the village arrived; immediately they arrived their hands kòk-krei-inghoi-si, la alàng-tum-kepòn-aphelo-pèn tying each, all, having done, those by-them-brought ashes-with amèk hi-si jasemèt chòklo; ànke their eyes having rubbed severely they beat them; then chòk-thèng-dèt, latum kòrte-bàng-theròk hèm having been beaten and pummeled, those brothers six home nàng-chevoilo. Ànke tovar nàng-chèngvai-thu-le-lo-- "Mai! returned. Then (on) the road they consulted together again-- "Oh! àn-le alàng e-kechobei-ra e-rèng e-kapeso, so much he us-having-cheated our skins he has caused to smart, aphu-thàk-ta e-hèm i-rit over and above that our houses our fields e-pa-che-kei-koi; nònke kele-pèn us he has caused to set fire to and burn up; now immediately we arrive ingchin-aru bèng-ra làng iron-of a cage (in) having firmly secured (him) water (into) jòk-thòt-lo-nang." Ànke kele-pèn jàngreso nèp-chèk let us throw him." So at once on arriving the orphan seizing ingchin-aru-pèn bèng-chèk inghoi-lo, ànsi habit làng-bi of iron-a cage-in firmly secure they did, and in the jungle a pool akethe-pi a-kung bi-dàm-kòk-lo. very great (deep) on the bank putting down they placed. "Mo-le làng nim-po-nàng; nònke kàt-athai "After a little while water (in) let us drown him; now run away-power ave-lo; apòtke àn che-cho-dàm-si-nàng" pusi, he has not; therefore rice our-eat-go-let-us" saying, àn che-cho-dàm-lo. Ànke a-òngmar àn rice-their they went to eat. Then his uncles their rice checho-dàm-aphi, konane recho-asopo òk nàng-kehung had gone to eat after, some one or other King's son deer there-hunting vàng-lo, ànsi jàngreso a-dung nàng-le-si, jàngreso-aphàn came, and the orphan near having arrived, the orphan (accus.) arju-lo "Kopi apòtsi ingchin-aru-arlo asked "What on account of iron-cage-inside nàng-kebèng-chèk-lo?" Ànsi jàngreso pulo: "Ne-òng-mar-atum you are here firmly secured?" Then the orphan said: "My maternal uncles asopi keme pu matha-thèk-the àn-pin do. Lasi a daughter, how fair! as one cannot imagine so greatly have. Her 'èn-tu' pu ne-phàn ne-kipu, bònta ne-ke 'èn-e' 'take to wife' saying to me me they say, but I 'will not take' pu kipusi, ne-òng-mar-atum aning-kithì-si ru saying replying, my uncles becoming very angry cage (in) ne-kebèng-chèk-lo." Ànsi recho-asopo pulo--"Che! tàngte ne me have fastened up." Then the King's son said--"Oh! then I èn-lòng-ji-ma?" "La ru-arlo-le nàng (her) take (to wife) shall be able?" "This cage into you nàng-do-te, èn-lòng-ji-te" pu jàngreso pulo: here-get-in-if, you will be able to get her" saying the orphan said: "elòm-te ne-òng-atum vàng-po, ànke-- "in a little while my uncles will come and-- 'Ànhelo-ma?' pu nàng arju-lo-te, 'ànhelo, 'Have you anything to say?' saying you if they ask, 'all right, èn-po, òngmar-li'--pura punòn." "To, tàngte," pu I will take her, uncles'--saying reply." "Yes, then," saying recho-asopo pulo. Ànsi jàngreso recho-asopo-aphàn pulo--"La the King's son said. Then the orphan the King's son-to said--"That nàng-pe nàng-ri-pèn mamàtle nàng ru-arlo nàng-lut-lo-te, nàng your coat your dhoti-with bedecked you cage-into here enter-if, you chini-dèt-po; apòtke ne ingpu-nòn: ne-pe ne-ri they will recognize at once; therefore me let out: my coat my dhoti nàng pipo, ànke ru-arlo lut-nòn." Ànsi recho-asopo ru you I will give, then cage-into enter." So the King's son the cage ingpu-si jàngreso nàng-bar-lo, ànsi jàngreso a-pe having opened the orphan there came out, and the orphan his coat a-ri recho-asopo pilo, la recho-asopo a-pe, a-ri, his dhoti to the king's son gave, that King's son his coat, his dhoti, a-lèk, a-roi, jàngreso pi-thu-lo, ànke his necklace, his bracelets, to the orphan gave in exchange, and recho-asopo ru-arlo lut-lo, ànsi jàngreso the King's son into the cage entered, and the orphan ingkir-dun-thip-lo. Ànsi jàngreso-ta recho-asopo a-pe, a-ri, the door made fast. Then the orphan the King's son's clothes, dhoti, a-lèk, a-roi che-pindèng, ahormu kedo-àn chepindèng-si, necklace, bracelets, having put on, his things all having put on, ha ahèm che-dàm-lo. Ànsi jàngreso a-òngmar-ta àn away to his house went. And the orphan's uncles also rice cho-dàm-pèn nàng-che-voi-lo, ru-alòng nàng-le-lo, ànsi arju-lo-- eating-from there returned, at the cage's place arrived and asked-- "àn-helo-ma osá?" "Ànhelo, òngmarli, èn-po" "have you anything to say, nephew?" "All right, uncles, I will take," pu jàngreso-kethàn-kàng-asòn-thòt recho-asopo pulo. Ànsi saying the orphan (by) instructed according to the King's son said. Then ingchin-aru-pèn làngbi var-chui inghoilo. the iron cage-with deep pool (into) throw into water (him) they did. Ànke jàngreso-a-òngmar kòrte-bàng-theròk chi-pu-lo-- Then the orphan's uncles brothers six said one to the other-- "Àn alàng i-duk e-kànghoi a-pòt, nòn ànke alàng "So much he us-trouble us-causing on account of, now however he thi-lo"; ànsi hèm che-voi-lo. Ànke jàngreso puke-- kithi-ji is dead"; and home they returned. Then the orphan as for-- dead kali, recho-asopo a-pe, a-ri, a-lèk, a-roi not at all, the King's son's coat, dhoti, necklace, bracelets che-pindèng mesèn kemàt matha-thèk-the jadi-thèk-the-dèt having put on, beautifully adorned inconceivably, unimaginably, thèk-dàm-thu-le-lo! Ànsi latum chi-pu-le-lo-- they saw again on arrival! Then they said among themselves again-- "Jàngreso thi-lòt-lo kali! Ha-la-le, "The orphan is not dead at all! There he is, kemàt-lèp-ra ka-pàng-elim-ke." Ànke a-dung le-lo, adorned and strutting in his finery." Then near him they went, jàngreso-aphàn arju-thu-lelo-- "Osá! nàmtu-si nàngli the orphan (accus.) asked-again-- "Nephew! how you nàng-kele-tòng-ròk?" Ànsi jàngreso thàk-lelo-- "Che, òngmarli, here arrived so soon?" Then the orphan answered-- "Oh, uncles, ne-phi-ne-phu-atum dola-pèn-si ne my grandmothers and grandfathers a palanquin-with me nàng-kapethòn-dun-kòk-le; hali ne-li here-caused to be escorted back; there I le-ròk-pèn-apara ne-phi-ne-phu-atum from the first moment of arriving my grandmothers and grandfathers pe-keme, ri-keme, lèk roi ne-kepi: la làng-nòn! coat-good, dhoti-good, necklace bracelets me gave: them look at! Nànglitum-aphàn-ta pevàng-tu-po-nàng You-to also cause-to-come it is necessary kepha-dun-par: asin nàng-kelo, la ser a-tari-lòn, they sent word urgently: a sign they have sent, this gold-of knife, làng-tha!" pu pe-klàng-lo. Ànsi a-òngmar pulo-- look at it!" so saying he showed it to them. Then his uncles said-- "Kopusi nelitum kedàm-thèk-po?" "Ingchin arú "How we go shall be able?" "Iron cage abàng-phu-isi che-pòn-ra ha person-head-one (i.e. each one of you) taking for himself that làng-kung lut-dàm-ik-nòn" pu jàngreso pulo. Ànsi river bank (to) get into it, good sirs" saying the orphan said. So latum ingchin-aru che-pòn-si ha làng-kung lut-dàm-lo. Ànsi they iron cages having taken that river-bank (to) got into them. Then jàngreso ingchin aru rakdun-hèt-ràkdunhèt-lo. Ànsi the orphan (in the) iron cages tightly tied up (each one). Then jàngreso aklèng-si-abàng ingchin-aru-pèn làngbi the orphan the eldest one with the iron cage deep pool (into) var-dàm-chui inghoilo. Ànke-phòng làng-abuk-buruk throw did. So then water-bubbles vàng-jàm-cheplàng-lo; ànke jàngreso pu-le-lo! "Ja! òngmarli, coming up many-continued; then the orphan said again! "There! uncles, làng-tha! ne-òng-a-klèng-ke la ne-phi ne-phu hòr look! my uncle eldest him my grandmother my grandfather beer kipi-si hòr kàngri-si ka-chèng-òk-lo." Ànsi adàk-vàn-ta having given beer having drunk is vomiting." Then the next one also làng-var-lo. Ànke kòrte-bàng-theròk-ta he threw into the water. Then the brothers six làng-var-klip-si jàngreso hèm nàng-che-voi-lo. Ànsi having all thrown into the river the orphan home returned. Then jàngreso-aphàn a-ni-mar-atum nàng-arju-lo-- "Nàngli the orphan (accus.) his aunts (uncles' wives) there asked-- "Your òng-atum nàmtusi vàng-ji?" "Tòng-tòng vàng-ve: àn uncles when will they come?" "Quickly they will not come: so long kachepho-phe apòtsi, nòn kachepho-le-ma?" not having met together on account of, now have they not met at last?" pu jàngreso pulo. Ànsi jo-thòm jo-phili do-si saying the orphan said. Then nights-three nights-four having waited ako a-ni-mar jàngreso-aphàn nàng-arju-thu-le-lo-- "Nàngli again his aunts the orphan (accus.) asked again there-- "Your òng-atum pi-apòt vàng-ve-rèk-ma?" Ànsi jàngreso uncles what for have not come by this time?" Then the orphan thàk-lo-- "Vàng-dàp-pràng-po." Ànsi jo-ni answered-- "They will come to-morrow morning." Then nights-two jo-thòm dosi latum jàngreso-aphàn nights-three having waited they the orphan (accus.) arju-dàm-thu-le-lo-- "Nàngli òng-atum kopi-apòtsi nòn-pu-ta asked again-- "Your uncles for what reason up to now vàng-ve-dèt-ma?" Ànsi jàngreso thàn-lo-- "Nòksèk-le àn have not come?" Then the orphan explained-- "In the nòksèk rice dèng-pi-ik-krei-nòn." Ànsi jàngreso a-ni-mar-atum set on (honorific) for each." Then the orphan's aunts "thi-koi-lo!" pu chini-si, chirulo, chernàp-lo, "they are really dead!" saying having recognized, wept, lamented, mòn-duk-lo, mòn-sa-lo. Ànsi jàngreso plànglo-philo, pàk-ta and were plunged in sorrow. So the orphan became rich, any one làng-un-e-abàng ave-lo. Ànsi jàngreso recho kethe to look on with envy there was not. So the orphan king great chosi rèng-me-rèng-dòk-lo. becoming, lived a happy and pleasant life. NOTES. Here we have a narrative of a more complex character than that of the first story, with a richer vocabulary, and abounding in the descriptive adverbial particles which are the main feature of the language. Jàngre, orphan: so is a diminutive particle. Jàngre indicates that one parent is dead; jàngrèng is used when neither survives. Inut, a loan-word from the Khasi ngut, used for the enumeration of persons: in Mikir initial ng is inadmissible. Hèm-epi, widow, literally, "sole mistress of the house" (hèm); the syllable e is perhaps a thinning down of a; pi is the feminine affix, here of dignity. Achèklè, brother, used only by a woman speaking of her brothers; ik is used by both sexes; mar, collective particle, used to form plurals: often atum is added; kòrte, brother; both kòr and te separately may be used for either brother or sister; bàng, the class-word used for human beings before numerals. Do, a verb meaning to stay, dwell, exist; specially, it has the meaning "to live with as a wife," and is the correlative of èn, "to take (to wife)." Arni-kàngsàm, "day-becoming-cool-time," the late afternoon. As is natural where there are no clocks, the divisions of the day are marked by other means than the count of hours. Arni is a day (or sun), regarded without reference to the lapse of time = French jour; anerlo is a day's space = journée. Similarly, ajo is a night, jirlo a night's space. The first indication of coming day is vo-khu e-the, "first cock-crow"; then follows vo-khu the-ni, "second cock-crow," and vo-khu the-thòm, "third cock-crow"; then the-àng prinpre-le, "just before dawn"; then adàp kàng-thàng, dawn (adàp, general word for morning); then nerlo-chitim, "day-middle," noon; then arni the-lelo, "the sun at its height"; then arni-kàngsàm, "the sun becoming cool," afternoon; then ingting lim-rim, or ingting-rim, dusk. Then begins ajo, night, when the evening meal is taken, after which soon comes the first sleep, àn-cho mèk-bur, "rice-having-eaten eye-close"; then jirlo chitim, midnight. Nàng-, a particle used, prefixed to verbs, to give vividness, is really the pronoun of the 2nd person singular, emphasis being given by referring the verb to the person addressed. Nàng at the end of the phrase is the verb of necessity = must; it often means "let us do this or that." Pàt, as a noun, is a stone dam or fence, put across a stream with an opening in the middle in which the bamboo cage or fish-trap, ru, is placed; as a verb, it means to build such a dam or fence; du means to place a thing so that it will catch or intercept something else. Làng, water, stream: làng-thàk up-stream, lang-ber down-stream. Che- prefixed to verbs gives them a reflexive meaning, and indicates that the action relates to the subject; hèm che-voi-lo, "he went home, to his own house"; che-pu-lo, "they said to one another"; ru che-vàt-dàm-lo, "they went to inspect their own fish-trap." Chikung, a cray-fish; chikàng is an imitative sequent; similarly phàng-o, carelessly, is followed by phàng-a. Jàng, as a verb, means to fill up, or, of the containing vessel, to hold--òk-kejang a-ru, "fish-to-hold-trap." Notice that òk means both fish and flesh; alone, it has usually the former meaning, or that of game, animals hunted; when joined to the name of an animal, the latter: chainòng-a-òk, beef; phàk-a-òk, pork; bi-a-òk, goat's flesh. Tèng and plèng both mean to be full: sèt is a particle added to strengthen the verb, taking the place of the tense-affix. Adàp-vàng, "every morning"; literally, "as (each) morning came." Che-rai-ver-lo; here che- is the reflexive particle, rai a verb, to occupy, take up, ver a particle indicating continuance, lo the tense-affix; the whole therefore means "they kept on taking up for themselves." Du-tekàng-ke-dèt-si; du, verb, to place, set; tekàng, a verb, to leave, depart; ke, negative syllable, reduplicated from last syllable of tekàng, dèt, particle of past time, si affix of conjunctive participle; the whole therefore means "not having placed and left," "without setting up at all." Ejòn: jòn is the class word for animals, as bàng is for persons, used with numerals; e- is the prefix for "one"; the other numerals follow--phàk jòn-ni, jòn-thòm, two, three pigs. Matha thèk-the: matha, verb, to think, imagine; thèk, verb, to be able (also to see); the negative affix: the whole therefore means "as could not be imagined"; jadi-thèk-the is a doublet of the same meaning. Àn-pin: àn, particle of quantity; pin up to; also tik; àn-pin or àn-tik therefore means "to such a degree." Akèng e-hòng: a its (the calf's), kèng, leg, e-, one (as before), hòng class-word for enumerating parts of the body; ha, particle indicating distance; La, this, ha-la, that: la-dàk, here, ha-dàk, there. Tèke-nàng-kòrdut-pi a-oso: tèke, "tiger"; nàng, particle of vividness, or, possibly, "you"; kòr, verb, to bite, dut, particle strengthening the verb and dispensing with tense-affix, pi syllable used in abuse, a- syllable of relation, osó boy: the substantive being put last indicates that the verb is to be taken passively: "you tiger-bitten scoundrel of a boy!" As the Mikirs consider that to be eaten by a tiger is conclusive evidence of the wickedness of the victim, the phrase is equivalent to "you wicked wretch of a boy!" Nàng peklàng thèk-ser ma-si: nàng, "you," klàng, verb, "to see, observe"; pe-, causative particle, so that peklàng means "to show, to produce"; thèk, verb, to be able, ser strengthening particle, "fully"; ma, syllable used for direct or indirect questions: doji-ma? "will you marry me?" Nàng peso èn-tàng-ma? "have you taken a wife?"; then, for alternatives, do-ji-ma do-de-ma? "will you marry him or not?"; and lastly, as here, "if you are not able to produce--then," etc.; si, affix of conjunctive participle, properly a locative particle. Dei, "very good," a loan-word from Khasi. Tàng-te, "then,"--properly "not having finished"; tàng is the verb meaning to be ended, completed, te the negative syllable. Vung-dàm-phlut inghoi-lo. This periphrastic construction, in which inghoi, to do, is used to strengthen the verb, seems to be borrowed from Assamese; many examples occur further on. Po-arnàm-po! a honorific form of address; po, literally, "father," but used also of a son (cf. the Hindustani baba) arnàm, God (Ass. deuta), po, big, honourable. For a girl the corresponding phrase is pe-arnàm-pi. Dohòn, Assamese dhòn (dhan), wealth, money; notice that the dh is resolved by the insertion of a vowel; similarly, further on, bahar occurs for bhar (Ass.), a load; neither dh nor bh is used in purely Mikir words. Tòn, hotòn, one of the numerous words for basket. Tàng-ho, a word used by a messenger to express the wish of him who sent him to ask for something: not used in other phrases. Tòn pi kànghoi-i-ji-ne "the basket for the purpose of doing what is?" Pi, what, kànghoi, infinitive, to do, -i syllable added to indicate purpose, ji affix of future, ne, particle of enquiry, an Assamese loan-word. Làng-dun-tòn-tha: làng, verb, to look, dun, verb, to go with, to be with, tòn, verb, to peep, pry, tha, imperative particle. Tèng, to measure, with a vessel of known contents; originally, to fill (see above, tèngsèt = plèngsèt). Konàt-tòng kelòng-dàm-lo-ne: konàt, where: tòng, a particle expressing uncertainty: "where on earth did he get it"? Sai-se "in order to"; "he really (chinàm) has to use a basket in order to measure this mass of money!" Thòn, to return a thing borrowed. Vàng-tha-tu tàng-ho-po: notice the use of po, father, as a respectful address, by the mother to her son; so also the uncles address their nephew respectfully with nàng-li. Nàngli-tum-ne-kithu-pi-pèt achainòng: notice the string of descriptive words prefixed adjectivally to the noun: this is an excellent example of the manner in which Mikir deals with what in English would be a relative sentence--"the cow of mine which you put to death by cutting her up"; literally, "by-you-my-killed-and-cut-up cow." Thu, to kill by cutting; pi, here a verb meaning to cut a large mass (see note to preceding story, p. 94); pèt adverbial supplement indicating completeness. Chetàng-te, "It is not enough": che, reflexive particle, tàng, verb, to complete, finish; te, negative: literally, "it does not finish our business, it does not do all we want." Che-hàng-jo: hàng, to call out, summon; che, as before, indicates that they all called out together; jo is one of the particles used to indicate plurality; others (which will be found further on) are jàm and krei. Làng, an auxiliary verb which seems to indicate continuousness, to go on being or doing. Observe that -te is used to indicate the two parts of a conditional sentence: chainòng a-òk jòr-dàm-te, èn-ji làng-te "if we go selling cow's flesh, they will go on taking it." In chainòng-do-o-para, o is a syllable indicating multitude, perhaps another form of òng; para is a loan-word from Assamese. Abàng-phu, "each one"; also abàng-phu-isi (used further on); phu means "head," isi "one"; the latter is used in bamòn-po-ròng-isi in the sense of "the whole," "as one man." A-ri-kòk-krei-si: a-ri "their hands," kòk, verb, "to tie with a noose," krei, particle of plurality. Katirva, "to offer for sale," a loan-word from Khasi (tyrwa). E-ke-chobei, "us he has cheated," e- is the pronoun of the first person plural including the person addressed. Notice the doublets--echainòng ehaidi "our cattle," erèng e-hu, "our skins" (hu, "hide, bark of a tree"), and observe how e- is prefixed to each part of the sentence. Atum chibusi: tum is here a bamboo basket in which to carry a load on the back; bu, "to plait or weave." Hèm me-kecho "the house that had been eaten (cho) by fire (me)"; hum, to pick up, collect. Phelo means both "ashes" and "cotton." Arju-lòng-si, "having got (lòng) to hear (arju)." Arju means both "to hear" and "to ask." Chi-hi-ri-tha, chi reflexive particle; hi, verb, "to rub in"; ri particle for the negative imperative, "do not"; tha, ordinary imperative affix, which may be dispensed with when the negative particle is used. Tha! "wait"! loan-word from Assamese. Tàn-mu-chòt: mu is the comparative particle, "more," chòt is the constant suffix to mu; tàn, a verb, to be severe, burdensome. Chu-aphàn, "than last time:" aphàn is the postposition of comparison = "than." Lòng-dàm-o-lo "have you got so much more": o is, as before,the particle of multitude. Kedòr-de: dòr, "to suffice, be enough"; de negative syllable; hàng-jo, "they cried in crowds" (jo, particle of plurality). Ong-e-dèt; òng "much," particle of quantity; e, negative; dèt tense-suffix. The-dung "big"; ke-the great, dung particle; on its addition the ke- is dropped. Habit, "in the jungle," locative of Assamese habi, forest. It is noticeable that many, if not most, Assamese nouns borrowed by Mikir are taken over in the locative case (of which the final t is the proper ending in Assamese), as here: thus dèt, "country" = Ass. deh; munit, "man" = Ass., muni; nòrokòt, hell = Ass. nòròk. Konane "some one or other," Ass. loan-word. Keme-pu "she is so lovely!" me, "to be fair, beautiful," pu, literally, "saying." Èn-tu: here èn, "take," has the special sense of "take to wife, marry" (see what is said of do, ante, p. 95); tu, one of the signs of the imperative mood, is perhaps borrowed from the Khasi to. Bònta, "but," perhaps a Khasi loan-word. Àn-helo-ma, a difficult expression to translate: àn "so much," particle of quantity; helo "far"; ma particle of questioning; it might be rendered "how are you getting on?" literally "thus-far-what"? But it is also used in the answer to the question: àn-helo there seems to mean "all right"--"so far so good." To-tàngte; to is a Khasi loan-word: in that language it is used in answer to a question to express assent = "very well." Var-chui, "to throw into water," "drown": so also nim-chui. It seems possible that chui here may be an old word for water, corresponding to the Tibetan chhu. Che-pindèng "having put on himself": pindèng, "to put on," is an Assamese loan-word. Kithi-ji kali: the use of ji, the particle of the future, seems anomalous here: possibly the phrase means "he is not going to die, not looking as if he were going to die;" kali is the emphatic separate negative. Dola, "a palanquin," Ass. loan-word. Ke-pha-dun-par: pha, verb, to send a message: dun, verb, to be with: par intensive particle, "urgently." Nàngkelo "they have sent": lo is a verb, "to send a thing," while toi means "to send a person." Ser, gold; it is remarkable that the Tibetan word (gser, pronounced ser) is used for this object of culture both in Khasi (ksiar) and Mikir, and not the Assamese (son, hon); for silver, on the other hand, the Aryan rup is in general use. Lut-dàm-ik-nòn; lut, verb, "enter," dàm, verb, "go"; ik, honorific address = "elder brother" (though he is speaking to his maternal uncles); nòn imperative particle. Note the doubling of the verb ràk-dun-hèt-lo to indicate repetition of the action in the case of each person. Nòksèk-le. The nòksèk (see plan of Mikir house at p. 8) is the part of the house where the food (àn, cooked rice) is placed as an offering to the Manes. Dèng, "to place a share, leave a share"; pi "give"; ik honorific (as above); krei particle of multitude = "for each one." Mòn-duk-lo, Assamese loan-words (mon, mind, heart, dukh, grief). Làng-un-e-abàng "a person who cannot (un-e) look on (làng) another (for envy)." III. HARATA KUNWAR ATOMO. HARATA KUNWAR'S STORY. Harata Kunwar kòrte bàng-theròk, Harata Kunwar (and) his brothers (were) six persons, akibi-si Harata Kunwar. Amehàng-kethèk-pèn-apara thijòk, the youngest (being) Harata Kunwar. From the time of his birth deer, phàk-lèng ke-àp, tiki-ke inghoi-he; a-ikmar wild pig shooting, he never did any field-work; his brothers, bàng-phòngo-ke sai-katiki. Ànsi latum kòrte bàng-phòngo the five of them, laboured in the fields. Then they, the five brothers, a-po-pèn bàng-theròk chingvai-lo: "Alàng Harata with their father six persons, took counsel together: "This Harata Kunwar-ke tiki-ke inghoi-he òk hung-chòt; apara ningve Kunwar doing no work deer hunts only; therefore at night chingvai-nòn." Ànsi aningve chingvai-lo. Apo take counsel together." So that night they took counsel. His father aso aklèng-aphàn arju-lo--"Nàng kopusi àn ne-hi-po?" his son eldest (accus.) asked--"You how rice me-will-supply?" "Ne-pu-tàngte sarlar plàngsi jo-arni me "As for me, a headman having become night and day I do-ji; sarlar a-màn bàng-kevàn will hold assembly; headman's perquisites by people brought ahòr-ahàn-pèn-si àn-lòk àn-me hòr-làng hòr-po nàng the rice-beer-from rice-white rice-good beer (doublet) to you pi-ji." "Tàngte nàng adàk-vàm-ke kopusi àn ne-hi-po?" I will give." "Then you the next, how rice me will supply?" "Ne-pu-tàngte hemai hànsari plàng-si jo-arni noke "As for me, a blacksmith (doublet) becoming night and day knives no-pàk thip-ji; la noke nopàk nàng-kethip-atum daos I will forge; by those knives and daos there made by me kevàn a-hòr a-hàn akove abithi pènsi brought (i.e. procured) beer (doublet) betel-nut pan-leaf together àn-lòk àn-me aràk-chidhir nàng-piji." "Nàng with rice-white rice-good spirit (doublet) you I will give." "You adàk-vàm adunke, kopusi àn ne-hi-po?" "Ne-pu-tàngte the second next to, how rice will you supply me?" "As for me, sai-tiki-si puru phàndar pelòng-si ànlòk field-work-doing granary store having got together rice-white àn-me hòr-làng hòr-po nang-piji." "Nàng adàkvàm adun rice-good beer (doublet) you I will give." "You the second next le-thòt-ke, kopusi àn nehipo?" "Ne-pu tàngte coming after, how rice will you supply me?" "As for me, bàng-ahèm do-dun-si, labàng ne-kepi (other) person's house inhabiting as a companion, that person me given a-àn ahòr ahàn-si nàng pipo." "Nàng rice and beer (doublet) you I will give." "You adàkvàm-adun-le-thòt-ke kopusi àn nehipo?" the second next coming after, how rice will you supply?" "Ne-pu-tàngte bàng-abàn asòt plàngsi ne-kepi "As for me, another person's slave (doublet) becoming me given a-àn ahòr ahàn- pènsi ne-àn nàng pi-po." "Tàngte rice and beer- (doublet) with, from, my rice you I will give." "Then nàng Harata-Kunwar-ke, kolopu-si àn ne-hipo?" you Harata-Kunwar, in what way rice me will you supply?" "Nepu-tàngte Arnàm-aso Arni-aso èn-si recho kethe "As for me, God's child, Sun's child having married, a king great plàngsi, inghoi athàk inghu-athàk, kapòt-athàk kaplèng-athàk nàng having become, throne upon (doublet) plank-upon (doublet) you pàngni-si bàn-sòt-atum náng-ri nàng-kèng having caused to sit slaves and maids your hands your feet nàng-pechàm-si, hòr àn aràk-chidhir nàng-pi-ji." Ànsi having caused to wash, beer rice spirits you I will give." So chingvai-tànglo. Anerlo sai-tiki-alòng, they finished consulting together. That day, cultivation-place-in, Harata-Kunwar abàng-kave-aphi, alàngtum kòrte bàng-phòngo apo-pèn Harata-Kunwar not being there, those brothers five, with their bàng-theròk chingvai-thu-voi-phàk-lo. "Alàng father persons-six, began to consult together again. "That Harata-Kunwar Arnàm Arni-aso èn-si recho plàng-ji-si Harata-Kunwar God Sun's child having wedded a king will become, pu? Konàt arecho-si alàngke plàng-ji-ma? apara pethi-lòt-lo-nàng. indeed? Where a king is he to become? so then kill let us (him). Apara ningve chingvai-thu si-nàng." Aningve So then at night time let us consult together again." That night àn-chodèt jundèt alàngtum chingvai-lo, kopusi rice having eaten having drunk they consulted together, how kapethi apòtlo. "Apara hèm-thàp kim-po-nàng; the killing was to be done. "So then a field-hut let us build; Harata-Kunwar-aphàn-ke naidung-ahoi-le kim-pi-ra Harata-Kunwar (accus.) clearing-on the border having built it pehòn-po-nàng. Ànke etum ajo dàm-ra chir-pèn let us cause to watch. Then let us by night going with a spear tòk-òt-nàng." Alàngtum kachingvai Harata-Kunwar thrust-and-kill-him." Them taking counsel together Harata-Kunwar's atepi arju-dun-lo. Ànsi adàp àn-chodèt eldest sister-in-law overheard. Then in the morning rice having eaten jundèt alàngtum kado-kave sai-tiki-dàm-aphi Harata-Kunwar having drunk they all having gone to work after, Harata-Kunwar òk-hung-pèn hèm vànglo. Ànsi atepi àn pilo; from hunting home came. Then his sister-in-law rice gave him; àn-chodèt jundèt atepi pulo-- "Nàng rice having eaten having drunk his sister-in-law said-- "(On) you miso nàng-prolàng, Harata-Kunwar." Ànsi a black ant (here = louse) there let me kill, Harata-Kunwar." So a-rèk pelo, pe-ma-pe-lo amèk-kri H. K. a louse she killed, while she was killing it a tear H. K.'s akèng-athàk nàng-klo-bup. Ànsi H. K. arju-lo-- "Tepi, leg-on fell with a splash. Then H. K. asked-- "Sister-in-law! nàng chiru-dèt-ma-da?" Ànsi atepi pulo-- "Chiru-re: you are weeping?" And his sister-in-law said-- "I am not weeping: arve a-mu-si nàng-ke-klo." Ako pe-ma-pe rain-of a drop has fallen on you." Again while she was killing, amèk-kri nàng-klo-thu-voi-phàk. H. K. arju-thu-le-lo-- "Nàng a tear fell upon him a second time. H. K. asked again-- "You chiru-dèt avi, tepi! ne-thàn-nòn, kopi-apòtsi nàng crying are really, sister-in-law! me explain to, for what reason you kachiru-ma." Ànsi thàn-lo: "ne-lòkhai àn-tàngte are crying." Then she explained: "my father-in-law and also nàng-ik-atum kachingvai, hèm-thàp nàng your brethren have taken counsel together, a jungle-hut (in) you pehòn-si ajo chir-pèn nàng having made to watch, by night with a spear you tòk-òt-ji-si-pu: lasi ne ka-chiru." Ànsi H. K. will pierce and kill-they say: that is why I am weeping." Then H. K. pulo-- "Phere nàng-ne; nàng ne-thàn-lo, me-lo; menàp said-- "You need not be afraid; you me have told, it is well; to-morrow a-dàp nàng promàn lòng-ji. Ne thi-the-tàng-te, alàngtum aphi-aphi morning you proof will get. I not dead am-if, them after hèm nàng-dunsi chilònghe thàm-theròk ne sarnung home here coming, worm-castings clods six I roof (upon) nàng-var-po: Lale sarnung ne-nàngkevar arki ave-dèt, here will throw: that if roof (on) my-here-throwing noise there is not, tàngte ne kithi-lo." Ànsi arni-kàngsàm apòr a-ik-atum then I shall be dead." Then day-becoming cool-time his brothers rit-pèn nàng-che-voi-lo, ànsi apo pulo: "Ningve-ke from the field there returned, and his father said: "This night H. K.-ta hèm-thàp hòn-dun nàng-po; sòk phàk our H. K. jungle hut (in) go watching must; the paddy pigs cho-koi-lo; ha naidung-ahoi netum hèm-thàp are eating up; there clearing-on border we a jungle-hut nàng-kim-pi-koi-lo." Ànsi àn-cho-dèt jun-dèt, H. K. have finished building." Then rice having eaten having drunk, H. K. a-thai che-pòn-si hèm-thàp dàm-lo; ànsi chitu- his bow taking with him the jungle-hut went-to; and (name of a plant) a-the lik-pòn-si a-làng phingu-a-òp-pèn bi-si, arlèng fruit having gathered, its juice plantain-sheath-in having put, man ki-i a-sònthòt-si-athàk pe pachàp-si sleeping (of) likeness upon clothes having put round pi-i-lo; H. K.-ke sòk a-se arlo he put it to sleep; H. K. himself rice-arch underneath chepatu-joi-lo. Ànsi àn-cho-mèk-bur a-po hid himself quietly. Then after their first sleep his father a-ik-atum chingthurlo:-- "Vàng-noi, H. K. pithi-dàm-po nàng." his brothers awoke one another:-- "Come now, H. K. to kill let us go!" Ànsi abàng-phu chìr-epàk chi-vàn-si, H. K. Then each one of them a spear-one taking with him, H. K.'s ahèm-thàp-alòng vàng-lo. Ànsi apo pulo-- "Da-nàng, aklèng! jungle-hut-place (to) came. Then his father said-- "Go you, the eldest, arlu-ra tòk-dàm-nòn!" Aklèng pudèt-- "Kopusi ne climbing up pierce him through!" The eldest answered-- "How I tòk-dàm-hai-ji-ma? e-kòr tàng-dèt, e-mu tàng-dèt-lè; go and pierce dare shall? our brother he is, our younger brother he is; ipi isi-pèt, i-po isi-pèt; aphuthàk chubòng isi-pèt chithe our mother is one, our father is one; moreover nipple one breast isi-pet tòng-ràp-chòm: akòrte tàng-dèt, kopusi pithi one we sucked together: brothers-full-being, how kill-him hai-ji-ma? ne hai-he!" "Da tàngte nàng adàkvàm!" Adàkvàm should I dare? I dare not!" "Go then, you the second!" The second son pu-voi-phàk-- "Mai! patèng-kali, paju-kali: rejoined-- "Ah! (of a) second wife he is not (the son) (doublet): kòrte-apòk, mu-te-apòk tàngdèt-le, kopusi brother of one womb younger brother of one womb since he is, how (him) pithi-hai-ji-ma? ne hai-he." "Da-tàngte nàng adàk-vam-adun." slay should I dare? I dare-not." "Go, then, you second-to the next." La pu-voi-phàk-- "Kèng-thàm isi-pèt, kèng-pàk isi-pèt, ri-dèng He rejoined-- "Our thigh is one, our foot is one, our upper arm isi-pèt, ri-pèk isi-pèt-si, kethe-ràp-chòm akòrte tàng is one, our hand is one, we grew up together, our brother since dèt-le, kopusi pithi-thèk-ji-ma? ne thèk-the!" "Da-nàng he is, how could I possibly kill him? I cannot!" "Go now you, adàkvàm-adun-lethòt." La pudèt-- "Mòk e-bòng-pèt tòng-ràp-chòm second-next-next." He said-- "Nipple-one (at) having sucked together akòrte tàng-dèt, aphu-thàk-ta bhin kali bha kali le, kopusi brothers fully being, moreover sister he has none (doublet) how kapithi hai-ji-ma? ne hai-he." "Da-tàngte nàng akibi." kill him should I venture? I dare not." "Go-then, you the youngest." "Mai! kopusi nele ne ketoi-ma? Ne dun-tàngdèt, ne-pu-tàng-te, "Ah! how me are you sending? I being next him, as for me, akibi-pèn the-ràp-ràp: aphuthàk-ta àn childhood-from we grew up together: over and above that, rice e-vàn-pèt kecho-ràp, hòr harlung isipèt (from) one platter we ate together, beer mug one (from) kejun-ràp: abàng-le ne pithi-hai-ji-ma? ne hai-he." we drank together: such a person I to kill should dare? I dare not." Ànsi apo àning-thi-lo: "Tàngte kopusi 'H. K. pithi-nàng' Then his father became angry: "Then how 'H. K. must be killed' pu nàngtum kepu-hai? plàng-ple-ple-le, saying ye dared to say? if you cannot bring yourselves to this nàngtum pinso plàng-vàngve," pusi nujòk arlu-si, you male will never become," saying, the post climbing up, chir-pèn lobòng-a-òp tòk-proi-lo; ànsi with a spear the plantain-sheath he pierced through; then chitu-alàng nàng-bu-lo; ànsi "H. K. (name of plant)-juice came dropping out; so "H. K. kàngtàng-ma-kàngtàng nònke nàng-dàn-lo-bò! Arnàm strong though he be, now here he has got his deserts! God Arni aso ènsì, recho kethe peplàng-bòm-lo-nàng of the sun's daughter having wedded, a great king let him make himself nòn-ànke." Ànsi H. K. nàng-arju-dunlo: "Kopi-kopi now!" Now H. K. there overheard all this: "What, what tàng-a, ikmar-li?" pulo: ànke "H. K. athai do" pu, are you saying, brothers?" he said: and "H. K. his bow has" saying, phere-si kàt-lo; chingthu-cherbu-si kàt-lo; fearing they ran away; stumbling and falling they ran; ahèmthàp kachile at their jungle hut their own arriving, aning-vàngphàk-vàngphàk, ànsi ajo-pàngthàng they vomited (lit. their breast came up), and night-clearing away bòr-i-dèt-si adàp hèm chevoilo. Ànsi H. K.-ta with great difficulty in the morning home they returned. Then H. K. also alàngtum-aphi-aphi dun-si, chilònghe thàm-theròk sarnung them after coming, the worm-casts clods six on the roof var-dun-lo. Ànsi àn-chòdèt jundèt a-ikmar rit threw. Then rice having eaten having drunk his brothers field (to) dàmlo; aphi H. K. vànglo. Ànsi atepi àn pilo. went; afterwards H. K. came. Then his sister-in-law rice gave him. Chodèt jundèt pulo, "Ai tepi! ne dàk Having eaten and drunk he said, "O sister-in-law! I here nàng-do-dun thèk-the-lo: kòrte-apòk mu-te-apòk aphu-thàk remain with you cannot: my brothers own (doublet) nay even e-po-apòk-ta ne-pràn ne-mui-si ne arlèn-thuròng; ne-pethi-ji our father own even my life (doublet) me aim at (plur.); me to kill ne-pejàng-ji-si matha-thuròng. Apòtke ne me to slay they are plotting (plur.). Therefore I chòngvir-po. Sàng-tèt sàngti him sàngpher-le ne will go a-wandering. A provision of rice bread parched rice also to me sik-pi-nòn." Ànsi atepi pu-tekàng-lo-- "Lale ne preparing give." Then to his sister-in-law he said on leaving-- "If I thi-dàm-de jàng-dàm-de-dèt, tàngte ne-kevàng-apòr chelònghe do not die (doublet), then my-returning-time (at) worm-cast thàm-theròk nàng-varpo; ànke inghoi-inghu kapòt-kaplèng clods-six here I will throw; then the stools the planks chàm-nòn." Chiru-ràp-jo-si chekàk-lo. wash clean." Having wept together they parted. Ànsi H. K. athai che-pòn-si kedàm-ma-kedàm, ànsi a-phi Then H. K. his bow having taken went along, and his granny hèm-epi ahèm le-lo. "O phi! nàng bàng-do?" Sarpi the widow's house (at) arrived. "O granny! are you there?" The old woman nàng-thàk-dèt "Komàt-ma? dàk putàng-te, ne-dòn ne-ràp there answered "Who is there? as for this place, to me kith and kin avedèt-pile: komàtsi kevàng-ma?" H. K. thàk-dèt, "Ai ne phi." there is not any: Who is come?" H. K. answered, "Oh, I, granny." Ànsi sarpi pulo-- "kopi-kevàng-ma, po? neke Then the old woman said-- "Why have you come, my dear? I am but hèm-epi: ne hèm ave ne rit ave: a lone widow: I house have not I field have not: cho-hàng chorèk-chòt-si kecho: kopi kevàng-lo?" H. K. food-begging (doublet) only (from) I eat: why have you come?" H. K. thàkdèt-- "Nàng-lòng nàng-do-dun-po." Sarpi answered-- "With you I will remain here as a companion." The old woman pudèt-- "Nàngke recho-athèng kethe-athèng le, kopusi said-- "You that fit-to-be-a-king, fit-to-be-a-great-man are, how ne-hèm nàng nàng-kedo-dun-thèk-ji ma?" H. K. thàk-dèt-- "Me in my house you can keep me company?" H. K. answered-- "Good, phi: nàng-do-dun-po." Ànsi do-dun-lo thàk-dun-lo. Ànsi granny: here I will stay." So he stayed with her (doublet). Then aphi hèmepi pulo-- "H. K., nàng sòk te-dun-nòn; his granny the widow said-- "H. K., do you the paddy spread out to dry; ne recho-aròng sòk-sàng rèk-dàm-po. Mo sòk I in the king's village paddy-rice to beg am going. After paddy te-dèt nàng làng-chinglu dàm-ji-sèt-ta, làng-thàk you have spread out, you in the stream bathe to go if want, up-stream dàm-ri: la etum a-hèm a-lòngle chinglu." Ànsi go not: this of us two house ground (upon) bathe." Then sòk-te-dèt aphi hèm-epi recho-aròng dàm-lo. paddy having spread out his granny the widow to king's village went. H. K. sòk pòn-lo: harlo-dun-lòtsi H. K. the paddy took: having turned it over frequently palòm-pèt pe-rèng-dèt-si sòk in a very short time having thoroughly dried it the paddy oi-si làng chinglu-dàm-lo. having collected together in the stream he went to bathe. Ànsi H. K. matha-voi-phàk-- "kopi-apòtsi ne-phi 'làngthàk Then H. K. thought again-- "for what reason my granny 'up stream dam-ri' pu ne-kepu-tekàng-lo-ma? Làng-thàk nàng-dàm-si go not' saying me telling went away? Up stream there going nàng-làng-dàm-ji-làng," pusi làngthàk dàmlo. Ser I will go and see for myself," so saying up stream he went. Gold alàng-the rup alàngthe kephuk thèk-dàm-lo. water-vessels silver water-vessels broken he, going, saw. "O lasi 'làngthàk dàm-ri' pu ne-phi "Oh, that was why 'up-stream go not' saying my granny ne-ke pu-tekàng-le. Ningve nèng-arju-ji, komàt-ching told me when she went away. To-night I will ask her, whose a-lànghe ne." Ànsi hèm nàng-chevoilo. Ànsi a-phi watering-place it is." So home he returned. Then his granny hèm-epi-ta recho-aròng-pen arni-kàngsàm hèm nàng-chevoilo. the widow-also king's village-from in the afternoon home returned. Ànsi a-ningve àn-cho-dèt jun-dèt H. K. arju-lo: Then that night rice having eaten having drank H. K. asked: "Komàt-ching a-lànghe ma, la làng-thàk? Ser alàngthe "Whose watering-place is it, that up stream? Gold water-vessels rup alàngthe kephuk oi-cho." Ànsi hèm-epi pulo: "Làngthàk silver water-vessels broken are strewn." Then the widow said: "Up-stream dàm-ri pu ne nàng kepu-tekàng: nàng arju-je-dèt-si go-not saying I you told at parting: you not hearing (obeying) nàng làngthàk dàm avi-le?" Ànsi H. K. thàk-lo-- "Dàm-te-ma, there up-stream went surely?" Then H. K. answered-- "Yes, I did go, phi: ne-thàn-tha, komàt-ching a-lànghe ma." Ànsi granny: explain to me, whose watering place it is." Then aphi hèm-epi thàn-lo: "Bari-the Recho a-lànghe; his granny the widow explained: "Palace-great king's watering place; asomar, kòrte bàng-theròk, làng-nàng-kachinglu-adim: his children, sisters six, in the water bathing-place (it is): dàm-ri-nòn aparke." Ànsi H. K. matha-voiphàk-- "Ne-phi go not now any more." Then H. K. considered again-- My granny dàm-ri-thu pusi, ne-pu 'go not again' having said, as for me, nàng-dàm-thu-ji-làng." Ànsi làngthàk dàm-thu-lo. there going again I will continue." Then up stream he went again. Làng-kung chipatu-joi-si nerlo-chitim Bari-the River bank (under) hiding himself quietly, day-middle Palace-great Recho asomar kòrte bàng-theròk King's children, sisters six, làng-nàng-chinglu-ji-si vànglo. (in) the river for the purpose of bathing came. Nàng-klo-èt-jo akàn nàng-chi-bi-kòk Descending there beautifully their clothes there having laid aside làng sun-phit: inut akàn into the water they jumped all at once: each one her clothes nàng-chibi-kòk làng sun-phit, keme-òng having laid aside into the water jumped at once, most lovely! chiklo-tur-dèt arni tur-dèt lale kachinglu lale moon-splendour sun-splendour (like), there they bathed, there kachingthi. Ànsi arni ingsàm-jin-lo. Aklèng they washed themselves. So the day became cool gradually. The eldest nàng-pinkhàt-lo: "Ai ètmarli! kitun apòrlo, there-admonished-them: "O my dears! cooking-time it is, kedàng apòrlo, e-vo chibèng apòr, e-phàk serving-up-time it is, our fowls to house time it is, our pigs chibèng apòrlo: e-pi e-tàmpo, e-po e-tàmpo, to house time it is: our mother us will scold, our father us will scold, dàm-po-nàng." Ànsi chinglu-tànglo, let us go!" So bathing-they finished, chingthi-tànglo: inut akàn washing themselves they finished: one her clothes nàng-chihijìr-phlum-phlum chi-i-lòk-si ingjar-èt, inut shaking out so as to flap, having put on flew away beautifully, another akàn chihijir-phlum ingjar-èt, ànsi her clothes having shaken out so as to flap flew away beautifully, and akibi-si-ke aphi ingjar-èt-jo, chiklo-atur the youngest of all afterwards flew away beautifully moon's-brightness arni-atur thelalàk. Sining lut-le-tik, lale H. K. sun's brightness just like. The heaven not entered-until, there H. K. kelàng-dun puke angphun chepekèk-koi. Ànsi stood gazing so that his neck (in) he got a crook altogether. So sining lutkoi-lo, thèk-dun-de-lo: ànsi hèm the heaven they entered quite, he saw them no more: so home chevoilo. H. K. aning mathalo "àn akeme, àn akechòk, he returned. H. K. in his mind thought "so beautiful! so lovely! nàng èn-lòng-le-tik here until I can get one to wife, nàng-kim-lòng-le-tik here until I can build the wedding bower (subaud, I will not rest); ningve ne-phi nàng-arju-le-po." Ànsi hèm to-night my granny I will ask again about them." So home le-ròk àn-cho-dèt jun-dèt H. K. aphi arjulo:-- having arrived rice having eaten having drunk H. K. his granny asked:-- "Mai! phi! la-sòntòt akeme la-sòntòt akechòk "Oh! granny! that-like beautiful, that-like lovely ne thèk-lòng-le-làng; kopusi ke-èn lòng-po-ma? I saw got never; how to take one to wife shall I attain to? bidi ne thàn-tha!" Aphi pudèt-- "Ai H. K.! bàng-ke a plan to me explain!" His granny answered-- "O H. K.! those ones arnàm-aso arni-aso recho-aso kethe-aso god's children sun's children king's children great one's children kopusi nàngke arlèng-aso-le (are): how should you, who are but a child of man, ke-èn-lòng-ji-ma?" H. K. pulo-- "kali, phi! èn-lòng succeed in getting one to wife?" H. K. said-- "not so, granny! get one nàng-ji: bidi ne thàn-nòn." to wife I must: a plan to me explain." Thàn-the tik-tàk arju-ver-si thàn-lo: Did not-explain (she) so-long-as (he) continuing to ask, she explained: "Nàng ke-èn-ji-pèt-tàngte, la làng-kung-le rit "You are-bent-on-wedding-one-if, that river-bank-on a field pàn-dàm-nòn." Ànsi H. K. pulo-- "Me-òng-chòt-lo, phi: menàp-pèn-apara to clear go." And H. K. said-- "Very good, granny: to-morrow-from pàn-dàm-po." Ànsi adàp the-àng the-àng-e I will go and clear it." And the morning dawning not dawning làng-ding: ànsi adàp ing-thànglo. Ànsi nopàk he continued to watch: so (at last) the morning dawned fully. Then a dao e-pàk che-pòn-si dam-lo. Le-ròk-pèn do-de, one taking with him he went. Arriving-from he waited not, sàng-se, lale kepàn lale kepàn, arni-si-pèt he rested not there clearing there clearing, in one day only pàn-dèt pi-dèt, ànsi màm thilo, me keilo: lale he cleared it fully (doublet), then jungle cut, fire set-to-it: there kecho puke, abèng akòk thi-rok-re it (the fire) ate it up so quickly, a piece of wood, a stalk lying-not cho-èt. Ànsi thèngthe, hànjàng, nòk, phingu, arche-lo, it devoured. Then maize, millet, sugar-cane, plantain he dibbled in, aphu-thàk-ta mir phèk-e, tado, mir-kadòmphui, over and above also (name of a flower), white lily, marigold, asòn-sòn mir e-lo. Ànsi Bari-the Recho asomar various kinds flowers he planted. Then Palace-great King's daughters làng nàng-chinglu-lelo: nàng-klo-èt-jo (in the) river there-to bathe-arrived: there they descended beautifully, keme thèk-the-òng puke--chiklo-le vàng-phlòt, arni-le vàng-phlòt lovely to impossibility so--moon-as-if came down sun-as-if came down thelalàk. Ànsi chinglu-tàngdèt just like. Then having finished bathing chingthi-tàngdèt, H. K. ateràn nàng-thèklo. having finished washing themselves, H. K.'s garden-plot they saw there. Ànsi pulo-- "Mai! komàt arit-ma? me-òng-he." Aklèng So they said-- "Oh! whose field is it? it is very pretty." The eldest thàk-dèt-- "E-kòrpo H. K. ateràn-le-ma." answered-- "Our cousin (brother-in-law) H. K.'s garden plot it must be." Ànsi sining chingjar-thu-èt-jo-lo. H. K. "nàmtusi Then to heaven they flew away again beautifully together. H. K. "how ke-èn-lòng-po-ma?" pu matha-ding, ànsi shall I succeed in getting her?" saying continued to think, and aphi arju-thu-le-lo-- "Ai phi! nàmtu-ching-si his granny went and asked again-- "Oh, granny! when and how ke-èn-lòng-apòtlo-ma?" Aphi thàkdèt-- "La-pu-pe-lòng, am I to succeed in getting one?" His granny answered-- "That-way-not, asu-po: hèm-thàp chi-kim-tha." Ànsi adàp grandson-dear: a jungle hut build for yourself." So in the morning hèm-thàp kim-dàm-lo. Arni-si-pèt hèm-thàp thepi a jungle hut he went to build. In one day only a jungle hut very big kim-dèt-si hèm chevoilo, ànsi "hèm-thàp tànglo, having-built home he returned, and "the jungle hut I have finished, phi," pu thàn-lo. "Tàngte pòngsi granny," saying he explained. "Then (in) a flute che-èt-nòn," pusi aphi pinkhàt-lo. Ànsi pòngsi bore a hole for yourself," saying his granny advised him. Then flutes che-èt-o. Ànsi thèngthe-apòr hànjàng-apòrlo. he bored several for himself. So maize-time millet-time it became. Aphi pinkhàt-lo-- "Hèm-thàp chehòn-dàm-ra pòngsi His granny advised him-- "In your jungle hut going to watch flute but-nòn." Arit putàngte, palòm-pèt lale mir blow." His field as-for, in a very little time there flowers kàngthu-puke, matha thèk-the-dèt. Ànsi Bari-the Recho blossomed-so, it could not be imagined. Then great-Palace King's asomar làng nàng-chinglu-le-lo: nàng-ingjar-èt-jo children in the river there to bathe arrived: there flying beautifully inut akàn chi-bi-kòk làng sun-phit, inut one her clothes laying aside in the river jumped straight, another akàn chi-bi-kòk làng sun-phit, lale kachinglu her clothes laying aside in the river jumped straight, there bathed lale kachingthi. Ànsi aklèng nàng-pinkhàt-le-lo-- there washed themselves. Then the eldest there advised them again-- "Da, ètmarli, dàm-po-nàng." H. K. lale pòngsi kebut puke, "Come, dears, let us go." H. K. thereupon his flute blew so, matha-thèk-the-dèt. "Mai! pòngsi-kebut-ta it could not be imagined. "Oh! flute-playing indeed ju-me-òng: H. K. abàng do-avi: da ètmarli, is very good to hear: H. K. a person it is surely: come, dears, mir che-hàng-dàm-si-nàng"; ànsi vànglo. "H. K., nitum mir flowers to beg let us go"; so they went. "H. K., we flowers chilòk-pòn-chòt-làng, chilòk-pòn for ourselves pluck take a few wish, pluck and take ningke-ma, po?" "Chilòk-pòn ningke-ma," are you willing that we, sir?" "Pluck and take, I am willing certainly," pu, H. K. pulo. Ànsi abàng-phu-ta mir saying, H. K. said. So each one of them flowers chilòk-pòn-si dàmlo, ingjar-pòn-èt-jo. having plucked and taken went away, they flew away gracefully together. Sining lut-le-tiktàk, H. K. lale kelàng-dun-puke In heaven (they) not entered so long, H. K. there continued gazing so, amèk chi-peso-koi, ano chi-peso-koi. Ànsi his eyes became quite sore, his ears (i.e. eyes) became quite sore. So sining lut-koi-lo: thèk-dun-de-lo-pu-ànsi, the heaven they entered completely: he-could-no-longer-see-them-when, H. K. ta hèm chevoilo. Ànsi aphi hèm-epi nàng-arjulo-- H. K. also home returned. Then his granny the widow there asked him-- "Mini Bari-the Recho asomar nàng chingki-pòn-ma?" "To-day great-Palace King's children with you did converse?" "Chingki-pòn-te; mir-ta ne "Yes, they conversed; flowers even me kehàng-pòn-làngle." Ànsi aphi bidi thànlo: they asked to be allowed to gather." Then his granny a plan explained: "Menàp-ta arni keme: Bari-the Recho asomar làng "To-morrow (is) a day good: Great palace King's children in the river nàng-chinglu-le-ji-apòtke, chipatu-joi-ra there to bathe-arriving-on-as-soon-as, hiding yourself quietly làng-dun-tòn-nòn. La aklèng-atum kòrte bàng-phòngo-ke apèngnàn watch secretly. Those elder (plural) sisters persons five husbands do-àngse-lo. Akibi-si dèt-lo, latu Mòn Recho have all got. The youngest only, her Mon Raja (King of the winds) asopo-aphàn kerai-dun; hòrbòng hòrte his son-for is asking in marriage; the beer-gourds (doublet) le-koi-lo. Bònta la-dèt-lo, la-apini-le have all arrived. Nevertheless her only, her petticoat (accus.) pàngthèk-dun-ra làng kachinglu-aphi dàk having carefully singled out, in the river they-have-plunged-after, here vàn-nòn. Ne la-sòntòt apini alar-thàk-po: lale bring to me. I it-just like a petticoat in exchange will weave: that pòn-ra adim-thòt bi-pi-dàm-thu-nòn. La-apini-binòng-ke taking in that same place go and set it down again. Her-petticoat-own patu-joi-po-nàng. Ànsi alàng hide-quietly-let-us. Then she ingiar-dun-thèk-the-lo. Lale apini nàng to fly away with the others will not be able. There her petticoat you che-hàng-lo-te, 'inut-le-inut ne-do-nòn' pu-ra pu-nòn." she asks for-if, 'one or other of you become my wife' saying say." "To, me-òng-chòt-lo, Phi," pu H. K. pulo. Aphi labàngso "Yes, very good indeed, granny," saying H. K. said. His granny that abidi thàn-chèk-pèn-apara, H. K. aning aròng kedo plan having explained-after, H. K.'s mind cheerful became matha-thèk-the-dèt; ajo-ta amèk jàngthèk-the as you cannot imagine; the whole night his eyes close he could not a-no jàng-thèk-the matha-ding. Ànsi adàp ing-thànglo: (doublet), but continued thinking. Then morning fully dawned: àn-chodèt jundèt arit chedàmlo. "Nàmtu-ching-si having eaten rice having drunk his field (to) he went. "When nerlo chitim-po-ma?" pu inghòng-ding; ànsi sàngti-arlo day middle will it be?" saying he continued waiting; then sand-beneath chi-patu-dam-joi. Ànke nerlo-chitim Bari-the Recho asomar he hid himself quietly. So at mid-day Great Palace king's children vànglo: nàng-ingjar-èt-jo, inut akàn came: there they flew down gracefully, one her clothes nàng-chi-bi-kòk làng-sun-phit inut akàn putting aside plunged into the river, another her clothes nàng-chi-bi-kòk làng-sun-phit, ànsi laying aside plunged into the river, and làngkachinglu-aphi H. K. thur-joi-si they had entered the water after H. K. rising quietly la-kibi-si apini ajiso inghu-pòn-dèt-si that youngest one's petticoat striped cloth stealing and taking away aphi hèm-epi alòng pòn-phit-lo. Ànsi aphi his granny the widow- to took it straightway. And his granny la-sòntòt apini ajiso thàk-thu-lo, it just like a petticoat a striped cloth wove in exchange, palòm-pèt thàk-dèt. Ànsi H. K. nàng-kàt-thu-voi-lo, in a very short time she wove them. Then H. K. there ran back again, adim-thòt-si pini jiso bi-dàm-thu-si, place-that-same-in petticoat striped cloth putting down in exchange, ahèm-thàp chevàngsi pòngsi but-lo: lale kebut puke his jungle-hut going into, the flute played: there he played so that matha-thèk-the jadi-thèk-the. Ànsi chinglu dòr-lo, it could not be imagined (doublet). Then they had enough of bathing chingthi-dòr-lo. Ànsi aklèng they had enough of washing themselves. Then the eldest nàng-pinkhàt-le-lo-- "Ai ètmarli, dàm-po-nàng; there admonished them again-- "O my dears! let us go; ketòk-apòr, kesèt-apòrlo; it is (rice) pounding time, it is time for the second pounding; ketun-apòr kedàng-apòrlo; kebe-apòr, it is cooking-time, it is setting-on time; it is time to heat the beer, kesòr-apòrlo." Ànsi akàn nàng-chi-i-dèt-si time to squeeze it out." Then her clothes there having put on pu-thu-le-lo-- "Da, mir che-hàng-dàm-si-nàng." Ànsi mir she said again-- "Come, flowers let us go and beg." Then flowers chelòk-dàm-dèt ànke aphràngsi aklèng ingjarlo; ànsi having gone to pluck thereupon first the eldest flew up; then akibi-atum-ta ingjar-dun-èt-jo-lo; ànsi the younger ones also flew up with her gracefully all together; then akibi-ta ingjar-dun-lo the youngest also tried to fly with them, ingjar-dun-thèk-the-dèt: ingjar-tàng-te, but found she was unable to fly: if she flew up, nàng-klo-thu-bup; ingjar-dun-chòt, there she fell back again; if she tried to fly with them, nàng-klo-thu-bup. Ànsi aklèng pulo-- "Mai! there she fell back again. Then the eldest said-- "Oh! kopi-ching apòtlo-ma?" Ànsi aklèng-atum-ta what in the world is the matter?" Then the elder ones also nàng-chihir-thu-voiphàk-lo, ànsi H. K. alòng vàngsi pulo-- "Ai H. K., there came down again, and H. K.'s place coming said-- "O H. K., nàng si ne-mu apini lar-dèt avi, you it is who our younger sister's petticoat have changed without doubt, apòt-ke vàn-nòn" pu-hàng-lo. Ànsi H. K. thàk-dèt-- therefore bring it back" saying they called out. Then H. K. answered-- "Inut-le-inut ne-do-te." Bari-the Recho asomar pudèt: "One or other of you be my wife." Great-Palace King's children said: "Kopusi nàng-kedo apòtlo? netum ne-pèngàn "How you to marry is it possible? we our-husbands kedo-tàng, ne-pèngàn kedo-tàng rèp-le." H. K. have got already, our husbands have got already married to us." H. K. pudèt-- "Tangte ne pini nàng-pi-thèk-the: inut-le-inut said-- "Then I petticoat you give up cannot: one or other of you ne-do-ma-si." Ànsi Bari-the Recho asomar chepulo: me must marry." Then Great-Palace King's children said one to another: "Te, nàng-do-nòn." Aklèng thàk-dèt: "Kopusi "Sister (elder), do you marry him." The eldest answered: "How ne-le kedo-ji? ne-so kechàn-jai-le." "Tàngte adàk-vàm, should I marry him? I-children several have already." "Then the next, nàng-le do-nòn." "Kopusi ne kedo-thèk-po? ne do you marry him." "How I should be able to marry him? I ningke ne-so bàng-phili tàng-dèt-le." "Adàkvàm-adun, myself also my children four have got already." "Second sister-next-to, nàng-le do-nòn tàngte." "Kopusi kedo-thèk-ji? ne ningke do you marry him then." "How can I possibly marry him? I also ne-so bàng-kethòm tàng-dèt-le." "Tàngte my children three have got already." "Then adàkvàm-àdun-le-thòt, nàngle do-nòn." "Ne-ta ne-so bàng-hini second sister-next-to-next, do you marry him." "I too children two tàng-dèt-le, kopusi kedo-po?" "Nàng have got already, how should I marry him?" "You adàk-vàm-adun-le-thòt, nàng-le do-nòn." second-sister-next-to-next following, do you marry him." "Do-thèk-the, ne-ta ne-so inut tàng-dèt-le-ma?" "Tàngte "I cannot marry him, I too my child one have I not already?" "Then nàng akibi-si-le do-nòn." Akibi-si thàk-dèt-- you the youngest, do you marry him." The youngest answered-- "Ne-tu, Mòn Recho asopo-aphàn ne kerai-dun tàng-dèt-le: "As for me, Mon Raja his son-for me is asking in marriage already: hòr-bòng hòr-te nàng-le-koi-lo; pusi the gourds of beer there arrived all have; how kedo-thèk-po?" Aklèng-atum pudèt-- "Bònta nàng can I possibly marry him?" The elder sisters said-- "But you pàngri-re-dèt-làng-le-ma: nàng-le do-nòn-èt! Ingting-po, are not married yet: do you marry him, dear! It will be dark soon, netum dàm-po: ha hèm-ta e-vo e-phàk we must be going: there at home our fowls our pigs ingrèng-jo-si-do-po; aphu-thàk-ta e-pi e-po will all be calling out for us; moreover our mother our father nàng-làng-phròng-si-do-po. Netum-ta there will be looking out for us. We also, vàng-bòm-ji-le-ma?" Ànsi akibi-ta pulo-- shall we not continue to come and see you?" Then the youngest said-- "Pu làng-ma te-marli? do-po, nàng-tum dàm-nòn; "What is to be done, sisters? I will marry him, do you go; e-pi e-po aningthi-dèt-ji." Ànsi aklèng-abàng pulo-- our mother our father will be very angry." Then the eldest one said-- "H. K., nàng thàn-bòm-ta arju-je-dèt-lo, "H. K., you (our) instruction from time to time would not listen to, apòtke ne-mu nàng-tekàng-po; bònta aduk therefore our youngest sister here we are leaving; nevertheless grief pi-ri alàk pi-ri; ketun toi-ri, kedàng give her not, trouble give her not; to cook send her not, to serve up toi-ri; aphu-thàk-ta a-ri su-ri-tha, akèng su-ri-tha." Ànsi send her not; moreover her hand touch not, her foot touch not." So a-mu che-pere-tekàng-si sining their younger sister having instructed and left behind to heaven chingjar-thu-èt-jo-lo. Sining lut-le tiktàk, they flew up again beautifully together. Heaven not entered so-long-as, chi-làng-dun-ding: ànsi they (H. K. and his wife) continued gazing together: then thèk-dun-de-lo. Pu-ànsi H. K. pulo-- "Ingting-po, they could see them no more. Then H. K. said-- "It is getting dark, e-tum-ta dàm-po-nàng." Ànsi H. K. aning aròng do-lo, let us also go our way." So H. K. his mind joyful lived, jo-arni thijòk ke-àp phàk-lèng ke-àp night-and-day deer shooting wild-pig shooting, a-ur krèng-kre a-ràp krèng-kre. his platform (for drying flesh) was never dry his shelf was never dry. Ànsi ningkan isi ingtàng-lo. "Ai phi, 'ne hèm chedàmpo' pusi So a year one came to an end. "O granny, 'I home I will go' saying ne-kepulo, kolopu-lo-ma?" pu H. K. pulo. "Nàng I say to myself, what am I to do?" saying H. K. said. "You hèm-tàng-dèt, nàng rit-tàng-dèt-le-ma, chedàm-ta me; have your own house, you have your own field indeed, you can go, well; bònta nàng-peso nàng-che-me-me-làng." "Bònta," H. K. but your wife with you does not get on well yet." "But," H. K. pudèt, "ningkàn-isi-lo-le-ma-thi, phi." "Bònta nàng said, "a year one (whole) it is, though, granny." "Nevertheless, you che-me-me-la." Ànsi "Ai tàngte, dàm-thèk-the-làng-po" H. K. have not hit it off yet." Then "Oh, then, go I cannot yet," H. K. pulo. Ànsi H. K. lale katiki lale kànghoi puru kelòng said. Then H. K. there working in the field (doublet) barns-full getting phàndar kelòng, hèm-epi ahèm puke granary-full getting, the widow's house so ingkro ingtòng cylindrical receptacle for rice conical basket ardung-dung. Ànsi H. K. aso Arnàm pilo, were so many (i.e. was filled with). And H. K. a child God gave, aso inut-lo. Ànsi aphi arju-thu-le-lo: "Ai phi a child one only. Then his granny he asked again: "Oh, granny, ne-pi ne-po-atum a-lòng chedàmpo-si ne kepu." 'my mother my father's place (to) I will go' I say to myself." Hèm-epi thàkdèt: "Nàng-peso nàng cheme-me-làng-ti, The widow answered: "Your wife (to) you is not yet well reconciled, asupo." "Kali phi, chemelo: ne so inut grandson dear." "Not so, granny, she is reconciled: me child one tàng-dèt-lo-le-ma?" "Da tàngte: nàng thàn-bòm-ta, has she not already given me?" Go then: you I repeatedly advised, nàng arju-thèk-the-dèt-lo; chedam-nòn; bònta nàng-peso you would not listen to me; go together; nevertheless your wife nàng-cheme-me-làng de." Ànsi H. K. apeso chepulo is not thoroughly reconciled, indeed." Then H. K. his wife (to) said "Ai nàng-pi, i-li-ta e-hèm chedàm-po-nàng." Apeso thàkdèt, "O thou dear one, we two to our home let us go." His wife replied, "Da, nàng ne kepòn aling-lo-he." Ànsi adàp-lo: "Go, you me taking wherever you will." So it became morning: àn-cho-dèt jun-dèt dàmlo. Tovar e-bèng rice having eaten having drunk they started. Road a piece (of) lelo. Ànsi asopo-pèn apeso-pèn avàm they arrived. Then his child and his wife his waist tàmpòng-hèt-si, poho-pèn putting between waist and girdle firmly, with his turban che-vàm-phòng-hèt-lo. Ànsi dàm dàm dàm, he bound well round his body. So as they went on their way, vo-har alopo inglòng nàng arke-dut, a jungle-fowl male on the mountain (side) there was scratching, arlòk nàng-arke-dut matha-thèk-the jadi-thèk-the. Ànsi H. K. the precipice was scratching inconceivably (doublet). Then H. K. pulo-- "Chi, vohar-alopo, kopi kacheplàng-ma? ne hèm said-- "Oh, jungle-cock, what are you doing there? I home kachedàm-tòng tovar ne pèk-nòn." Vohar alopo am-going-in-a-hurry, the way to me leave free." The jungle cock thàkdèt-- "Tovar nàng kepèk-ji kali: 'mini H. K. answered-- "The way to you I will leave free by no means: 'to-day H. K. apeso aso chevàn-po' tàng pusi his wife his child will bring' so much saying to myself, akhàt akhàt amàng amàng ne nàng ketòn-le." H. K. the way he is coming (doublet) I here am watching." H. K. pu-voiphàk-- "Che, pulèm-dèt-ri! emoke 'H. K. apeso aso rejoined-- "Oh, joke do not! hereafter 'H. K. his wife his child hèm rit chevàn-ànsi ne-pràn ne-mui dàmlo' pu house field (to) bringing while, my life my soul is gone' thus pupa-na." Vohar alopo pudèt, "Pupe. Mini do not have to say." The jungle cock said, "I do not say so. To-day nàng-ta-me ne-ta-me." H. K. pulo "Sakhit-ma?" "Sakhit." either you or I (will prevail)." H. K. said "Is that true?" "Yes, true." "Dohai-ma?" "Dohai." Ànsi H. K. athai chepaching-kàngsi "Do you swear it?" "I swear." So H. K. his bow having set abòp. Ànsi dàm-thu-chòt, vo-rèk alopo tovar shot him. Then a little further he went, a cock pheasant the way nàng-parpàn-pèt inglòng nàng-arke-dut, arlòk right across the mountain there was scratching, the precipice nàng-arkedut matha-thèk-the jadi-thèk-the. Ànsi H. K. pulelo there was scratching in an extraordinary manner. Then H. K. said again "Chi vo-rèk-alopo, kopi nàng-cheplàng-ma? ne hem "Oh, cock pheasant, what are you doing there? I home kache-dàm-tòng, tovar ne-pèk-nòn." Vo-rèk alopo am in a hurry to go, the way leave free for me." The cock pheasant pudèt-- "Tovar nàng kepèk-ji kali: 'mini H. K. said-- "The road to you I will yield by no means: 'to-day H. K. apeso aso chevàn-po-tàng' pusi akhàt akhàt amàng amàng his wife his son will bring along' saying the way he is coming (doublet) ne nàng-ketòn-le." H. K. pudèt-- "Chi, pulèm-dèt-ri! emoke 'H. K. I am watching." H. K. said-- "Oh, don't joke! hereafter 'H. K. apeso aso chevàn-ànsi ne-pràn ne-mui dàm-lo' his wife his son bringing-while my life my soul departed' pupa-na." Vorèk alopo pudèt "pupe." H. K. don't have to say." The cock-pheasant said "I don't say so." H. K. pu-le-lo--"Sakhit-ma?" "Sakhit." "Dohai-ma?" "Dohai." Ànsi said again "Is that true?" "True." "Do you swear?" "I swear." Then H. K. athai chepaching-kàngsi abòp. H. K. his bow having set shot him. Ako dàm dàm dàm, phàk-lèng alopo kethe puke matha Forward as they went, a wild boar (male) great so as could thèk-the jadi-thèk-the, àngthur àngni pàn-lòk-phòng, tovar not be imagined (doublet), his snout his tusks overlapping so, road nàng-par-pàn-pèt inglòng nàng-thimur-phàk arlòk there-right-across the mountain| there was rooting the precipice nàng-thimur-phàk abidi thèk-the-dèt. Ànsi H. K. pulo: "Chi, there was rooting in an extraordinary way. Then H. K. said: "Oh, phàk-lèng alopo, kopi nàng cheplàng-ma? Tovar ne-pèk-tha: wild boar, what you are doing there? The way leave free for me: ne hèm kapele seraràk-ji." Phàklèng alopo thàkdèt-- "Tovar I home want to get quickly." The wild boar answered-- "The road nàng kepèk-ji kali: 'mini H. K. apeso aso for you I will leave free by no means: 'to-day H. K. his wife and child chevàn-po-tàng' pusi akhàt-akhàt amàng-amàng will bring along,' saying to myself the way he is coming (doublet) ne nàng ketòn-le." H. K. pudèt "Chi, pulèm-dèt-ri! I here am watching." H. K. said "Oh, don't jest! jasemèt ma-pu-ma?" Phàk-lèng alopo pulo "Jasemèt." H. K. pudèt-- is it true or not?" The wild boar said "It is true." H. K. said-- "Emoke 'H. K. apeso aso hèm chevàn-ànsi ne-pràn dàm-lo "Hereafter 'H. K. his wife his son home while bringing my life is gone, ne-mui dàm-lo' pupa-na." Phàklèng alopo pudet-- my soul is gone' don't have to say." the wild boar said-- "Pu-pe." "Sakhit-ma?" "Sakhit." "Dohai-ma?" "I don't say so." "Is that true?" "It is true." "Do you swear?" "Dohai." "Chi, tàngte"-- pu a-thai chepaching-kàngsi abòp. "I swear!" "Oh, then"-- saying his bow having set he shot him. Ànsi hèm-le-ji-dòk-dòk-lo, chilònghe thàm-theròk So (when) he had nearly arrived at his home, worm casts clods six pàngrum-si H. K. sarnung vardàmlo. Ànsi having collected H. K. the roof (on) went and threw them. Thus atepi pulo-- "H. K. vànglo! To inghoi his elder sister-in-law said-- "H. K. has arrived! Then the stools kechàm inghu kechàm." Ànsi inghoi inghu kapàt kaplèng wash the seats wash!" So the stools seats planks benches chàm-lo. Ànsi H. K. phàklèng e-jòn vàn-si, pai-a-re they washed. Then H. K. wild-boar one having brought, the hedge beside nàng-bikòk-si hèm vànglo. Ànsi kelepèn there having set it down home came. Then on his arrival atepi hòrlàng hòrpo him sàng-pher his eldest sister-in-law beer (doublet) bread parched rice nàng-pi-lo. Apeso keme-òng puke, arni atur thelalàk gave him there. His wife very beautiful so, sun's splendour like, charsàp un-e. Ànsi a-ik-atumke-- "paningve be looked in the face could not. Then his brothers-- "To-night kopi-ching ahàn-lo-ma?" pu ning-ri-jo. Ànsi H. K. pulo: what in the world has happened?" saying were perplexed. Then H. K. said "Ne mo tovar phàkso nàng-abòp: ja "I a while ago on the way a little pig there-shot: there pai-are-si me bi-tekàng-kòk: lale cho-phi beside the hedge well I placed and left it: there scorch it for eating dàm-nòn." Ànsi a-ikmar-atumke kòrte-bàng-phòngo dàmlo; aphàk go." Then his brothers, the brothers five, went; the boar kethe-òng peklèm-àn-ta un-e: thàngta (was) so very big, move it even they could not: anything chònghoi thèk-the. Ànsi H. K. dun-lo: ari do by themselves they could not. Then H. K. accompanied them: hand e-hòng rum-dàm-kòk: ànsi phi-si one (with) he lifted and brought it away: then having scorched it ingthàn-lo, ànsi hèm vàn-lo, cho-tun-lo chodànglo. Ànsi aròng they cut it up, and home brought, cooked it, served it up. And joyful, bohòng chingnèk chingni-si cho-lo, jun-lo. noisy, laughing and making merry, they ate, they drank. Ànsi puthòt-adàplo. "H. K. apeso chevànlo" tàng pu So next morning dawned. "H. K. his wife has brought" so much saying arju-lòng-si a-ràt-isi adèt-isi nàng kelàng having got to hear the whole country-side there to see chethòr-pre matha-thèk-the jadi-thèk-the. Ànsi H. K. kept coming and going as you could not imagine (doublet). And H. K. apeso apini binòng, ajiso binòng, aser his wife's petticoat own striped cloth own, gold jewels, alèk, pòng-ting-ke, làng-pòng thàp mesèn-si necklace, gold-drum (in a) bamboo joint putting away carefully, kardòng ràklòk. Ànsi H. K.-ke ròng-phu-ri (in the) pitch of the roof tied up. So H. K. the village people dàmlo, rup-phu-ri-dàmlo: aràt adèt each went to visit (doublet): the ryots, the country chi-phu-ri dàm: aphi apeso nàng kelàng in turn came to visit him: afterwards his wife there to gaze on they vàng-pre. Mane-ke "ni" mane-ke kept coming and going. Some "aunt" some "nèng" mane-ke "te" mane-ke "sister-in-law" (brother's wife), some "elder sister" some "pinu" pu-abàng-ta-dolo. "Vai! "paternal aunt" saying each one was. "Oh! me-òng-te-ma?" pu pasingnàk-jo. Ànsi H. K. is she not beautiful, sister?" saying they all admired. Then H. K.'s apeso thàk-dun-lo-- "Àn-chòt kali lànghe! Ne pini binòng, ne wife answered them-- "So much not yet! My petticoat own, my jiso binòng, ne lèk binòng, ne roi binòng le ne striped cloth own, my necklace own, my bracelet own again I chepindèng-lòng-te, aparta so-se-làng." Ànsi mane to put on were to get-if, it would not be thus only." Then some asarpi pulo-- "Chi, tàngte nàng pi-tha." Ànsi H. K. old woman said-- "Oh, then do you give them to her." Then H. K.'s asarpo pulo-- "Konàt-tòng la oso ingchàm bipikòk-lo-ne-le? old father said-- "Where ever (did) that boy mad stow them away? kopi athe-tàng apini jiso binòng kepi-pe-dèt?" for what reason her petticoat striped cloth own did he not give her? Ànsi H. K. apeso thàn-lo-- "Hala kardòng-le Then H. K.'s wife explained-- "That pitch of roof-in keràk-chèk-ke." Ànsi phri-dàm-si he has tied them in a bundle. Then having untied nàng-pi-lo. Ànsi chepindèng-lo there he gave her (the things). Then she put them on herself che-sum-pòt-lo. Lale keme-puke matha-thèk-the-dèt chi-plàng-lo. (doublet). Thereupon beautiful so inconceivably she became. Ànsi "Ai! me-ke mesèn-te-ma! arnàm-aso arni-aso pu Then "Oh! beautiful, lovely indeed! God's child, the sun's child, called pai-pe-lo." Ànkephòng H. K. apeso not for nothing is she." Thereupon H. K.'s wife thur-phlut-si chehijir-phlum-phlum-lo, rising up her full height shook out her clothes flap-flap, ingjar-èt-dàn-lo. Ànke H. K. flew away gracefully (thither whence she came). Then H. K. ha-tovar-pèn nàng-chethèk-dun-si, thai-pèn from a distant path there having watched her, bow (accus.) jo-dun-ràng-ràng-lo. Ànsi apeso pu-tekàng-lo, continually kept bending. Then his wife said on leaving him, "Tha, tha, mo chiphoji." Ànsi H. K. chiru "Wait, wait, hereafter we shall meet again." Then H. K. weeping chernàp mòn-duk mòn-sa-si hèm nàng-le-lo. lamenting sad and sorry at his house arrived. Nàng-kele-pèn cho-che jun-je a-oso Immediately on arrival, not eating, not drinking, his child nàng-chi-bu-dèt-si ha aphi hèm-epi ahèm having taken on his back, to his granny the widow's house chedàm-phit-lo. Ànsi dàm dàm dàm aphi hèm-epi ahèm he started to go. So going along his granny the widow's house (at) lelo: kele-pèn lale kachiru lale kachernap he arrived: on arriving there he wept there he lamented matha-thek-the jadi-thèk the. Ànsi aphi pulo-- "Hako-pèn as you could not imagine. Then his granny said-- "From the first 'Nàng-peso nàng-cheme-me-làng' nàng-pulo-he; kopusi nòn-le 'Your wife is not yet united with you' I told you verily; how now nàng-kelàng-ji-làng? Nàng sining-le kopusi will you get to see her again? You heaven-to how kedun-thèkji?" Ànke chiru-pèt àn-muchòt will you be able to follow her?" Then weeping so much the more cho-che jun-je aphi kedàm-aling dun-kri, not eating not drinking his granny went-wherever following, bar-pi bar-so-le kedàm-ta hundun-kri, outgoings-great outgoings-little-in going also he kept dogging her, kethi kejàng-si kedo-po. Ànsi aphi pulo: one-dying, one-perishing (like) he remained. At last his granny said: "H. K. akhi lo-du-dèt-le cho-tha: ne mo "H. K., food leaf (in) having wrapped up eat (imper.): I thereafter bidi nàng-thàn-ji." Ànsi akhi-lo-du him a plan to you will explain." Then food-in-a-leaf-wrapped bread sàngpher cho-lo. Ànsi aphi bidi thàn-lo: "Minàp-ke parched rice he ate. Then his granny a plan explained: "To-morrow nàng-peso Mòn Recho asopo nàng-kachepàngri-ji vàng-po. Ako your wife Mon Raja's son there to marry will come. Before that nàng-hupo àngnar-ta nàng-làng-chinglu-ji your father-in-law's elephant-also there in the river to bathe vàng-po. Lale nàng sàngti-arlo chi-patu-dàm-joi-nòn; will come. There do you sand-underneath go and hide yourself quietly; ingnar dàm-ji dòkdòk-lo-te, la-arme the elephant to go is-making-ready-when, its tail (to) rip-hèt-ra nàng-poho-pèn nàng-so holding on tightly your-turban-with your child che-vàm-phòng-hèt-nòn. Lale ingnar nàng-arju-lo-te, 'Ne-ta to your waist bind firmly. There the elephant you asks if, 'I also ha ne-peso alòng nàng-kechedun-ji' pu-ra pu-nòn. Ànke to my-wife's place am going along with you' saying say. Then menàp arni-kàngsàm-si nàngtum le-po. Nàngke to-morrow in the afternoon you both will arrive. Do you làng-kung-le dokòk-non. Ànke nàng-peso the-river-bank-on wait. Then your wife làng-kepànglu-ji-aphàn abàn-atum asòt-atum with-water-to-bathe-for-the-purpose her male slaves her female slaves làng nàng-sòk-po. Ànke 'oso-aphàn làng-ejoi-pèt water will-draw-there. Then 'For the child water one draught only ne pi-tha' pura hàng-dun-nòn. Ànke làng nàng-pi-lo-te me give' saying call out. Then water you-give-if, thibuk-arlo nàng-ser-arnàn jòk-dun-thòt-nòn. Ànke nàng-phàn the water pot-into your-gold-ring drop in. Then for you nàng-hàng-po: ànke dun-nòn: kele-pèn nàng-sopo there she will call: then go with them: on arriving your child o-dàm-kòk-nòn; ànke oso ape-alòng set down on the ground; then the child its mother-towards chedàmpo." Ànsi adàp ingthàng-lo: chodèt jundèt will go of itself." So the morning dawned: having eaten and drunk H. K. ha làng-kung dàmsi sàngti-arlo H. K. to the river bank having gone under the sand chipatu-dàm-joi-lo. Ànsi ingnar làng went and hid himself quietly. Then the elephant in the river nàng-chinglu-ji vànglo. Ànke chinglu-dèt dàmji dòkdòklo. H. K. there to bathe came. Then having bathed to go it made ready. H. K. arme rip-dun-lòk-si, apoho-pèn a-so its tail holding-on-tight-to, his turban-with his child che-vàm-phòng-dèt-lo. Ànsi ingnar ha sining tied firmly to his waist. Then the elephant to heaven flew up, ingjar-pòn-lo, ànsi ha làng-kung o-dàm-kòk-lo. Ànke taking him with him, and there on the river bank set him down. Then Mòn Recho-atum-ta H. K. apeso-pèn asopo nàng-kapàngri-ji-si Mon Raja's people also H. K's wife-with his son in order to marry Bari-the Recho ahèm vànglo. Ànsi Bari-the Recho great palace King's house (to) had come. Then great-palace King's abàn-atum asòt-atum H. K. apeso male slaves female slaves H. K.'s wife làng-kapànglu-ji-aphàn làng nàng-kesòk-ji vànglo. Ànsi with-water-to-bathe-for-the-purpose water there to draw came. Then H. K. asopo-aphàn làng hàng-pi-dun-lo: "Làng ejoi-pèt H. K. his child-for water begged them to give: "Water one draught only ne-pi-tha ne-sopo-aphàn, pe-marli." Ànsi inut-ta pi-pe give me my son-for, good mothers." Then one-even would not give inut-ta pi-pe. Ànsi aphi-si sarpi nàng-dun-lo: ànsi one-even would not give. Then at last an old woman came up to them: then hàng-dun-thu-lo H. K.-- "Làng ejoi-pèt ne pi-tha, pe-arnàm-pi, called out again H. K.-- "Water one draught only me give, good Madam, ne-sopo aphàn." Ànsi sarpi làng pi-lo; thibuk my-child-for." Then the old woman water gave him; the water-jar pheroidun pelèm-pelàm-si, H. K. ser arnàn jòk-dun-thòt-lo. Ànsi to touch making as though, H. K. gold ring dropped into it. So H. K. apeso làng-pànglu-lo: a-ri a-kèng H. K.'s wife they bathed with water: her arms her legs chàm-èt aphi-si sarpi-alàng-thibuk aphu washing-beautifully after the old woman's water-jar her head (over) nàng-dunglo: ser-arnàn nàng-klo-bup. Ànsi H. K. apeso they poured there: the gold ring there fell out. Then H. K.'s wife pulo-- "Ai! nàng chele-dun-tànglo komàtching alàng-thibuk ma?" said-- "Oh! here has arrived to us whose in the world water-jar?" pu bisar-lo. Ànsi inut-ta-- "Ne thibuk kali" inut-ta-- saying she enquired. Then one-- "My jar it is not," another-- "Ne thibuk kali" pulo. Ànsi "sarpi a-thibuk" "My jar it is not" said. Then "(it is) the old woman's jar" pu-hur-lo. Ànsi sarpi-aphàn pulo-- "Konàtsi nàng bàngso they all said. So to the old woman she said-- "Where did you this arnàn kelòng-lòk? Labàngso arlèng èn-dàm-nòn! La-le nàng vàn ring get hold of? That man go and fetch! Him if you bring thèk-the-dèt, tàngte nàng pràn!" pulo. Ànsi cannot, then (it is a matter of) your life!" she said. Then sarpi chiru chernàp-si H. K. alòng dàm-lo, ànsi the old woman weeping lamenting towards H. K. went, and hàng-dàm-lo-- "Ne-dun ik-nòn: kopi-apòtsi 'Làng called out to him-- "With me be pleased to come: for what reason 'Water ne pi-tha' si pu-te ne-pràn ne-mui ne-kapedàm-ji-le me give' this having said my life (doublet) me to cause to lose matha-thuròng-ma?" Ànsi H. K. aso chibu-si did you have it in your mind?" So H. K. his child carrying on his back dun-lo. Kelepèn oso o-dàm-kòk-lo. Ànsi went with her. On arriving the boy he set down on the ground. Then oso kàt-tàng-tàng-si ape cherbàk dàm-kràp-lo, ànsi the boy running straightway his mother's lap (into) climbed up, and mòk chu-lo. her breast sucked. Ànsi Bari-the Recho pulo: "Ai! abidi thèk-the-lo! Then the great palace King said: "Oh! a thing never seen before! a-so-si chi-pethe-ràp-tàng-dèt-lo-le-ma?" Ànsi a child-even have they got great between them already?" Then Mòn-Recho-atum theràk-lo ingringlo: mòn-duk mòn-sa hèm Mon-Raja's people were ashamed, were disgusted: grieved and sorry home chevoi-lo. Ànsi H. K. pèn Bari-the-Recho asopi they returned. Then (of) H. K. and great palace King's daughter pàngri-lo pàngdòn-lo. they celebrated the wedding. Ànsi ningkàn-isi ningkàn-hini do-dun-si tiki-lo So year-one year-two living with them he laboured in the fields inghoi-lo, ànsi puru-krehini phàndar-krehini lòng-lo. Ànsi H. K. and worked, and granaries-twelve barns-twelve got. Then H. K. apeso aphàn chipulo: "Ai nàng pi! ili-ta vo-phri asòn his wife-to said privately: "O my dear! we two also sparrows-like vo-thung asòn e-tar àn-ke do, e-thòn an-ke do; doves-like a nest at least have, a roosting-place at least have; apòtke chedàm-po-nàng: ònghai pèn anihai therefore let us go away together: father-in-law and mother-in-law arju-nòn." Ànsi aningve H. K. apeso ape apo ask." So that night H. K.'s wife her mother her father cherjulo: "Ai pe pèn po! nàngli osa kepu-ke: asked privately: "O mother and father! your son-in-law says: 'ili-ta vo-phri asòn vo-thung-asòn e-tar ànke do, 'we two also sparrows-like doves-like a nest at least have, e-thòn ànke do: ònghai pèn anihai a roosting-place at least have: father-in-law and mother-in-law arju-nòn: chedam po-nàng'-- pusi pu: Nàngtum kopi abida-si ask: let us go away together'-- so he says: Ye what order ne phar-dun-po-ma?" Ànsi Bari-the-Recho pulo-- "Che pe! me will command?" Then palace-great-King said-- "O daughter! lo-thui asòn hànthui asòn eboi-si nàng a bundle of greens like, a bundle of vegetables like, once for all you chochòk-palar chothèng-palar tàng-dèt-lo-le-ma. Minàp-le given away, or in exchange (doublet) completely I have. On the morrow dàm-tha chidun, mini-le dàm-tha chidun." Ànsi apo pu-thu-lo: go away together, to-day go away together." Then her father said again: "Kopisi nàngtum kari-ma? bàn-ma? sòt-ma? armo-ma? "What do you desire of me? male slaves? female slaves? ryots? òkso-ma? ser-ma? rup-ma?" Ànsi H. K. che-thàn-dàm lo: "Ai nàngpo! husbandmen? gold? silver?" So H. K. she went and told: "O my dear! ne-pe pèn ne-po kepu-ke-- 'mini-le dàm-tha minàp-le my mother and my father say-- 'this very day go away to-morrow dàm-tha chi-dun-ta-me; aphuthàk, bàn-ma? sòt-ma? armo-ma? go away together if you like; moreover, slaves? handmaids? ryots? òkso-ma? ser-ma? rup-ma? Kopisi nàngtum kari-ma?' pusi pu." Ànsi cultivators? gold? silver? What do you desire?' they say." Then H. K. pulo: "Thàngta nàngne." Ànsi adàplo. Ànsi H. K. H. K. said: "Anything I need not." So it became morning. Then H. K. anipi pèn ahupo ardòm-lo ardi-lo. his mother-in-law and his father-in-law saluted respectfully (doublet). Ànsi ahupo pulo: "Kopisi nangli kari-ma? bàn-ma, sòt-ma, And his father-in-law said: "What do you desire? slaves, handmaids, armo-ma, òkso-ma, ser-ma, rup-ma?" Ànsi H. K. pulo "Thàngta nàngne." ryots, cultivators, gold, silver?" Then H. K. said "I need nothing." Ànsi H. K. atum pèngnànso tàngte asopo So H. K. and his wife the wedded pair and also their son hèm chedàm-lo ànsi hèm chile-lo. Recho cholo kethe started for home and arrived there. A king he became, a great one cholo, jo-arni me, jo-arni the, ànsi he became, night and day he was happy, night and day he was great, and arecho akethe thirlo. his kingdom was great and stable. NOTES. This story is a much more elaborate piece of composition than the last, and may be said to exhibit distinct marks of literary style. Its vocabulary is copious and varied, and it makes large use of a device which is employed in Mikir, as in Khasi, [42] to give amplitude to the phrase by duplicating the leading words; nearly every important term has its doublet, with the same meaning, following it. Amehàng-kethèk-pèn-apara: amehàng-kethèk, "to see the face," is equivalent to "being born"; pèn and apara, the latter borrowed from the Assamese para, have the same signification, and the latter is really superfluous. Phàk-lèng, shortened for phàk-belèng, "wild boar"; see the explanation of the term in the notes to No. I, p. 94. Tiki-ke inghoi-he: notice that both verbs are given in the negative form; this is unusual. Màn, "perquisites"; Assamese loan-word. Kove, "betel-nut," Khasi kwai, Ass. guwa. Chidhir, "spirit," the doublet of aràk (itself a Hindi loan-word) is perhaps the Khasi kiad-hiar. Notice how, instead of using the ordinal numbers for second, third, fourth, and fifth brothers, the father employs clumsy periphrases to indicate the sequence. Phàndar, "store," Ass. loan-word (bhandar). A-bàn a-sòt: in this doublet the second member, sòt, properly means "female slave"; a similar use of a word of different meaning as a duplicate term will be found below (p. 129), where a-mèk "his eye" is followed by a-no "his ear," the meaning being "his eyes." Kado-kave, literally, "being-not-being," a periphrasis for "all of them." Miso, "a black ant," used verecundiæ causâ for rèk, "louse." Notice the idiom pe-ma-pe-lo, where the insertion of ma between the repeated roots indicates the time during which an act is done. An-tàngte, "and also," literally, "so much not finished." Phere nàng-ne: nàng is the verb of necessity, ne the negative particle: "there is no need for fear." Promàn, "proof," Ass. Chitu, the plant called in Assamese puroi-sak, Basella lucida; its fruit has a red juice. Arlèng ki-i, "a sleeping man": observe that arlèng here evidently means a human being in general (see note, p. 4). Àn-cho-mèk-bur: see note, p. 96. Vàng-noi; noi is a variant of nòn, imperative particle. Chir-epàk: "one spear"; notice that the generic class-word for flat things, pàk, is used with chir, a spear, referring of course to the head only. Da in Da-nàng seems to be a shortened imperative of dàm, to go. Arlu-ra tòk-dàm-nòn: notice how arlu, usually a postposition (= up in), becomes a verb when necessary; similarly, further on, in e-kòr tàngdèt, kòr, "brother," is furnished directly with the suffix for the past tense; e- and i- are used interchangeably for the pronoun of the 1st person plural inclusive; the second is perhaps employed when the vowel-harmony calls for it. Tòng-ràp-chòm: ràp, "to help," is employed as an adverbial supplement to indicate that two persons do the same thing together; chòm is a doublet of ràp. Patèng, paju, words for a second wife. Bhin kali, bha kali: bhin is Ass. bahin, sister; bha, must be Ass. bhai, brother, but is used as a doublet of bhin. Notice the energetic reduplication of the negative in plàng-ple-ple-le. Pinso, male, virile, "worthy of being called men." Kopi tàng-a "what are you saying?" tànga is only used in this way as a question, as tàngho (see above, p. 100) is used in carrying a message, for pu, to say. Bòr-i-dèt-si "with great difficulty"; bòr-i-bòr-a, "by hook or by crook." Arlen-thu-ròng, matha-thu-ròng: arlèn is "to aim at," matha "to think about"; thu a particle meaning "again," and ròng one of the affixes indicating the plural. Chiru-rap-jo-si: jo is an affix indicating the plural. Nàng-bàng-do? "are you there?" lit. "is your body (bàng) present?" Kopi kevàng ma po? po, "father," is used as an endearing word in addressing a son, or as here a grandson (see ante, pp. 99, 101). Sòk is paddy, rice in the husk; sàng is rice freed from husk and ready for cooking; àn is boiled rice; te, a verb, "to spread out paddy to dry." "Harlo," a verb, "to turn over" (the spread-out paddy); rèng, a verb, of the spread-out paddy, "to become dry"; oi, a verb, "to collect into a heap" the dried paddy. Làng-thàk nàng-dàm-si nàng-làng-dàm-ji-làng: in this sentence the word làng, which occurs thrice, has three different significations: the first làng is a noun, "water, river"; the second is a verb, "to see, look at"; the third làng is an auxiliary verb, "to continue doing, or being," used here pleonastically. Ser, rup, "gold, silver," see note, p. 111, ante. Notice the rare form nèng for ne, "I"; nasals seem occasionally to be added or dropped at will at the end of words: e.g. da and dàm, "go"; òng and o, "much, many"; la and làng, auxiliary verb. Komàt-ching-a-lànghe ne: ching is a particle strengthening the interrogative komàt,--"who-ever?" lànghe, a ghat or watering place: ne the interrogative particle borrowed from Assamese, = ma in Mikir. Bari-the Recho, "king of the Great Palace"; bari, "a large house," loan-word from Assamese: the, "great." Nàng-klo-èt-jo "there they descended beautifully"; klo, "to fall or sink down from a height"; èt a syllable indicating beauty or charm; Mr. Stack notes that it is perhaps connected with the word ètpi, "yellow, golden"; it is also used as an affectionate form of address in èt-mar-li, "my dears!" jo, plural affix. Kàn, a ceremonious word for clothes; the ordinary expression is pe or ri. Sun-phit: phit means "all at once," "suddenly." Tur, "the brightness, splendour" (of the moon and sun). The syllable jin in arni ingsàm-jin-lo indicates the day gradually drawing on to evening. Apòr-lo: notice the verbal affix -lo appended to the noun pòr, "time." Bèng, "to house animals for the night." Hijir, "to shake out," as a bird its wings before starting to fly. Phlum-phlum, onomatopoetic adverb imitating the sound of flapping; i, "to put on one's clothes": a-ri kachi-i, "he is putting on his dhoti"; pini kachi-i, "she is putting on her petticoat"; in this sense the verb i takes lòk as its constant adverbial supplement: when it means "to lie down," "to sleep," it takes lòt. Observe how the distributive force of the sentence is expressed by repeating the whole phrase. Angphun chepekèk-koi "he made his neck (ingphun) crooked (kèk-dàng or kèk-juk)"; koi, a particle meaning "completely, altogether." Èn "take," and kim, "build," both mean "to marry"; the latter implies the building of a separate house for the newly wedded couple, or perhaps the wedding bower. Arlèng-aso: notice that here the word arlèng evidently means a human being, opposed to arnàm-aso, the child of a divine person. Pàn, "to cut down and clear the jungle for cultivation." Làng-ding "continue to watch": ding a particle of continuance (cf. keding, tall, long). Pàn-dèt pi-dèt; here pi has the sense of "to cut down" (a tree, or something thick): so also thi. Màm, "the jungle." Further on, in thi-ròk-re, thi means "to lie": Pisi dàk-le kethi-ròk-ma? "why are you lying here?" ròk is an adverbial supplement. Arche is used of sowing or planting many things together, as here: to sow or plant only one thing is e: thèngthe ke-e, "he is sowing maize"; sòk ke-rik, "he is sowing rice broad-cast"; sòk ke-e, "he is transplanting rice." Mir-phèk-e: mir, "flower," phèk-e, "rice-husks": "a flower that grows out of heaps of rice-husks; has a long narrow leaf and a flower which is red and white mixed" (Stack); tado, "a kind of white lily or arum with a yellow style" (id.). Keme-thèk-the-òng puke: "so (puke) beautiful (keme) excessively (òng) as never was seen (thèk-the)." Vàng-phlòt: phlòt: a particle indicating suddenness. Teràn, an individual plot, as distinguished from the rit or general field. E-kòrpo H. K. ateràn-le-ma: kòrpo, "cousin (mother's brother's son)," also indicates the relationship between a woman and her sister's husband; here of course it is used in the latter sense, proleptically; it is characteristic of this story-teller that he discloses the dénouement of his tale well in advance. Notice the idiom -le -ma, "it must be," an indirect question = "is it not?" Pòngsi, Ass. bansi, "a flute," made of a piece of bamboo; èt, to bore a hole. Che-èt-o "he (cut and) bored holes in a number of flutes"; o seems to be a shortened form of òng, many: hem kim-o, "they built a number of huts"; ne vo nàm-o-lo, "I have bought a lot of fowls." Ju-me-òng, "it is very good to hear": ju is shortened from arju: the prefix ar- is separable in this word and in arni, "day, sun," arlòng "stone," and several other words, which appear in composition as ni and lòng, etc.; it seems probable that it is connected with the Tibetan prefix r-, to which the Mikir relative particle, a-, has been prefixed. Notice nitum for netum, possibly by vowel-harmony with the following words mir and chilòk. Chilòk-pòn ningke-ma: observe that this phrase stands both for the request and its answer--ningke, "willing"; ning, "mind";--ma is thus not only the interrogative particle, but also indicates its corresponding affirmative reply. A-mèk, a-no, "eyes and ears" = eyes only. Mini, menàp (minàp), alternative terms for pini, penàp, "to-day, to-morrow." Do-àngse-lo = do-koi-lo, "have all got." Mòn Recho, probably shortened for Tomòn-Recho; tomòn, "wind." Rai-dun, special verb for "to ask in marriage." Bòng, "gourd for holding beer"; te, doublet. Thàk, "to weave." Thàn chèk, "to explain"; chèk strengthens verbs for imparting information. Aning aròng kedo: ròng, "delight," Ass. loan-word. Notice again amèk ano for "eyes" only. Tòk, a verb with the general meaning "to thrust, poke"; used already above (p. 116) for thrusting with a spear; here for pounding the rice with a long pestle (lèngpum) in the mortar (lòng); another sense is "to write" ("to poke with a pen"). Sèt, "to give the half-cleaned rice a second pounding." Dàng, "to serve up the cooked food." Be "to heat the fermented rice"; sòr, "to press out the beer" from the grains, mixed with warm water, which have been put in the conical strainer of woven bamboo, si, by pressing down upon them a gourd, bòng. Rèp seems to be a variant of ràp (explained above, p. 118), and indicates that all of them have been married together. Chàn-jai, "to have several children." Pangri-re-dèt-làng-le-ma; here again two verbs each have the negative affix, pàngri and làng, the latter an auxiliary signifying "to continue to be." Pàngri in the sense "to marry," is the causal of ingri, "to drink copiously of liquor"; the description of the marriage ceremony at p. 18 shows the important part which is taken in it by alcoholic drinks. Ingting-po, "it will be dark": observe the impersonal use of the verb, without a substantive: we may say ajo kàngting-par, "the night is very dark." Nàng-làng-phròng-si-do-po; phròng is one of the particles used to indicate plurality: "they will all be looking out for (làng) us there (nàng)." Bòm, one of the verbs indicating continuance may be rendered "from time to time." A-ri su-ri-tha, a-kèng su-ri-tha: this injunction not to touch the hand or foot of the fairy princess has different parallels in other lands; in the Celebes version referred to on p. 72 it is the hair that is not to be touched. Pe-re, causal of re, "to be knowing, clever." Ur, a platform or screen for drying flesh in the sun; ràp includes also a shelf in the house. Krèng, to be dry, bears the same relation to rèng, dry (ante, p. 122), as klàng (p. 99), to perceive, does to làng, to look at; in both the prefix ke- has apparently been incorporated in the root. Chedàm-ta-me "You can go if you like": observe the force of me, "well, good." Che-me-me-làng: the verb me here seems to be the Assamese mel, "agreement," not the Mikir word for "good." Observe the idiomatic expression ningkàn isi-lo-le-ma thi, in answer to an objection: so one says, in reply to a request for payment, ne nàng pi-tàng-dèt-lo-le-ma-thi "but I have paid you already!" Observe that in nàng che-me-me-la the last syllable = làng without its nasal. Aso Arnàm pi-lo, "God gave a child": possibly this phrase is due to the narrator, who it will be remembered was a Christian. Ti, a particle = "not yet reconciled." De, a particle of asseveration, "indeed," probably the Assamese dei. Hèt, a particle used with verbs meaning to tie, bind, in the sense of "firmly, securely." Dut, a particle used with verbs of scratching or cutting. Tòng, a particle indicating hurry or haste. Emoke, "in a little time": mo, "space or interval of time," e-, particle of unity, as in e-jòn, e-bèng. Pulèm, "to say in joke": pu, "say," lèm, "seem, pretend." Pràn, Assamese. Pu-pa-na, "don't have to say": na, Assamese. Nàng-ta-me, ne-ta-me, idiomatic, "it will be well with you or it will be well with me," i.e. "either you or I will come off the better." Dohai, "an oath"; probably the Assamese dohai, "call for justice": seme (the Khasi smai) is also used. Bòp, to shoot a bird or animal; àp, to let off a bow or gun. Dòk-dòk, particles used to indicate that an event has nearly happened (with ji, future affix). To, imperative particle borrowed from Khasi, and prefixed, as in that language. Pai-a-re "beside the hedge (pai)" = pai-a-kung. Cho-phi; the Mikirs scorch (phi) every bird or animal before preparing it for cooking. Chònghoi, reflexive form of inghoi, "to do," = "to do by themselves." A-ri-e-hòng: hòng is the generic class-word for a limb (see ante, p. 79). Ingthàn, "to cut up fish or flesh, whether raw or cooked." Chingnèk reflexive of ingnèk, to laugh, "laughing together." Chingni, reflexive of ingni, doublet of ingnèk; the verb also means "to sit." Puthòt-adàp-lo; puthòt, "next": cf. le-thòt in adàk-vàm a-dun-lethòt on p. 114 above; the time-affix -lo is joined directly to adàp, "morning." A-ràt, a-dèt, both Assamese loan-words; ràt is raiyat, "ryots," dèt, deh, "country." Chethòr-pre, vàng-pre, are both used for "continually coming and going, of many people"; the former expression indicates greater numbers and frequency than the latter. Pòng-ting, "a gold drum, worn on the breast, strung in the middle of a set of strings on which black, coral, and gold beads are arranged in alternate rows six deep" (Stack); in Assamese madoli. Ni, nèng, te, pinu: see the table of terms of relationship on p. 20. Apar-ta-so-se-làng: this sentence appears to be made up thus: apar, "greatly, much," ta, corroborative particle: so, diminutive particle, negatived by se, làng, auxiliary verb, "continue"; the force of it, then, would be--"the effect would not be only the poor result you see, fine though that is, but ever so much more!" Konàt-tòng = konàt-ching, "wherever?" Kopi-athe = kopi-apòt. Pai-pe-lo: this idiom is illustrated by the following phrases: klèm-dàm pai-pe-lo, "he is not working gratis, for nothing"; là aklèng pai-pe-lo, "he is not the elder for nothing"; i.e. he can do better than his younger brothers. Ingjar-èt-dàn-lo: the element dàn gives the force of returning to her own place whence she came. Jo, verb, "to bend a bow," ràng, particle of continuance. Tha, "wait!" Assamese loan-word. Pho, verb, "to touch, arrive at," as a boat comes to the shore with chi, "to touch one another, to meet" (see p. 112, lines 1 and 2). Akhi-lo-du; akhi, "something to eat," lo, "leaf," du, "wrap up," = "so much food as can be wrapped up in a leaf," a morsel. E-joi, "one draught"; joi is perhaps Ass. jol, "water." O, verb, "to leave, set down." Mòn Recho-atum; notice that here tum has its original sense of "company"; "Mòn Raja's company, or following." Pu-hur-lo: hur is one of the particles indicating plurality. Ne dun-ik-nòn: ik, "elder brother," used as a respectful form of address; observe its place in the compound imperative. Matha-thuròng, lit. "you had another (thu) meaning" (viz. to make me lose my life). Notice how -si, the mark of the conjunctive participle, is affixed to the reported utterance of H. K. Cherbàk = che-arbàk; arbàk, the lap or bosom; also a verb: oso karbàk, "she holds the child to her bosom." Kràp is said to be used only of a child climbing up into its mother's lap. Ingring, used as homonym of theràk, "to be ashamed," also means "to be afraid, disturbed in mind." Cherju-lo = che-arju-lo. Phar, "to order"; nàng ne kephar aling-lo, "as you order me"; ne phar-dun peme-sèn-lo, "I gave him careful instructions." Bida = Ass. bidai, "leave to depart." Che pe; notice that pe, "mother," is used as an affectionate term of address to a daughter, exactly as po, "father," is used above to a son or grandson. Lo-thui-hàn-thui, "a bundle of vegetables, with a leaf wrapped round it." Chòk and thèng mean literally "to beat," but are here jocularly used for getting rid of a person. Palar causal of lar, "to be changed or exchanged," also apparently used jocularly of giving in marriage. H. K.-atum: notice the plural affix used to indicate H. K. and his wife. Cho-lo, "he became"; this seems to be a different verb from cho, "to eat." Notice a-recho "his kingship"; recho stands for raj as well as raja. Thir, Ass. thir, "steady, stable." ADDITIONAL NOTES. Divisions of time. On p. 95, note, the divisions of the day are given. To these may be added those of the year, as recorded by Mr. Stack. A year is ning-kàn (cf. Lushei kum, Shö kun, "year," and Lushei ni-kum, Thado ningkum, Shö yan-kun, "last year"). A month is Chiklo, "moon"; but the Assamese months, which are solar divisions of the year, not lunations, appear to be followed. The days of the month are not generally counted, and there is said to be no week. (This is borne out by S. P. Kay's English-Mikir vocabulary, which gives hopta, the Hindustani hafta, as the word for "week," with ni-thròksi, "seven days," as an alternative. In the Mikir Primer published by the American Baptist missionaries in 1903, however, rui is said (p. 21) to be the word for "week.") Kechung-apòr (chung, to be cold) is the cold season. Ning-krèng (krèng, to be dry) is the dry portion of winter. Chung-phàng-òk (chung, cold; phàng-òk, hot), is the spring, merging into summer. Barla is the rainy season, followed by Chung-jir-jir ("becoming cold by degrees") autumn. The following are the names of the months, with the corresponding Assamese names, as set down by Mr. Stack:-- Literary form. As pronounced in Assam. Mikir names. Chaitra Soit Thàngthàng Vaisakha Boihag There Jyeshtha Jeth Jàngmi Ashadha Ahar Aru Sravana Srabon Vosik Bhadra Bhadur Jakhòng Aswini Ahin Paipai Kartika Karti Chiti Margasirsa Marg Phre Paushya Poh Phaikuni Magha Magh Matijòng Phalguni Phagun Arkoi According to the Mikir Primer, however, the Mikir names (which agree with those given by Mr. Stack) correspond with periods earlier by at least a month, Thàngthàng being the equivalent of February, instead of Chaitra (which begins at the vernal equinox), and the other months in ordinary sequence (There, March, Jàngmi, April, etc.). Thàngthàng is said by Mr. Stack to be called Chànglachòng-ròng-do, "the stay-at-home month." There is the month in which the jungle is cut and strewn to dry (this would agree well with the equivalent of the Primer, rather than with Boihag, April-May, when the firing would take place). Vosik ("sprout") should indicate the month of vigorous growth, when the rains have set in. Phaikuni seems to be borrowed from the Sanskrit Phalguni, but does not correspond with it. The other names are not explained. Musical instruments. A flute, pongsi, cut from a bamboo, is mentioned on p. 128: pongsi is the Assamese bansi, the well-known instrument of the youthful Krishna (Bansi-dhar). Other instruments known to the Mikirs are muri, a fife; chèng, a drum; chèng-brup, the small handdrum used by the risomar to accompany their dancing at funeral feasts; and kum, a one-stringed fiddle. The last is made by stretching a string made from a creeper, màngri, across a gourd, bòng, which provides an air-chamber. It is played with a bow, kum-aliso (li, a bow, so, diminutive particle) made of bamboo, the string of which is a tough fibre of bamboo. (Compare the one-stringed fiddle, pena, of the Meitheis: Meithei Monograph, p. 56.) VII. AFFINITIES. The place of the Mikirs in the Tibeto-Burman family. Some idea of the mental equipment of the Arlengs will have been gathered from the two preceding sections. It has been seen that, within the limited circle of their experience, they possess a medium of expression which may be described as adequate to their needs, well knit together in its mechanism, and copious in concrete terms, though, like all such languages, wanting in the abstract and general. Their folk-tales are lively and effective as narratives, and the themes, though probably borrowed from the great treasury of popular story elaborated in Peninsular India, have been appropriated and assimilated to the social conditions of the Mikirs themselves. Little has hitherto been done to enlarge the resources of the language in the direction of higher culture, or to use it for the expression of ideas lying beyond the scope of the tribal life; but there appears to be no reason to doubt that the language of the Mikirs will be found in the course of time to be as capable of development for this purpose as the speech of their neighbours the Khasis. [43] The leading feature of the race, in contrast with other hill tribes of Assam, is its essentially unwarlike and pacific character. Its neighbours--Khasis, Kacharis, Kukis, Nagas--have for centuries been engaged in continuous internecine strife, and their tribal individualities have been preserved, and differences accentuated, by the state of hostility in which each unit, however small, lived with all adjacent peoples. The Mikirs have always, at least during the last two centuries, been, as Major Stewart described them in 1855, "good subjects." Numbering some ninety thousand souls, they are extremely homogeneous, while other tribes in their neighbourhood differ in an extraordinary manner from village to village, and constantly tend to split up into smaller aggregates, looking on all outsiders as enemies. No such disintegrating influence has affected the Arlengs. Whether in North Cachar, the Jaintia Hills, Nowgong, or the Mikir Hills, their tribal institutions, their language, and their national character are identical, and they pursue their peaceful husbandry in the same manner as their forefathers, raising in ordinary years sufficient food for their subsistence, and a considerable amount of cotton and lac for export to the plains. In these circumstances, surrounded by warring tribes, and still nomadic in their habits of cultivation, they have from time to time found it necessary to place themselves under the protection of stronger peoples. It has been mentioned in Section I. that the traditions of the race show that they were formerly subject to the Khasi chiefs of Jaintia and the eastern states of the Khasi Hills, and that they migrated thence to the territory subject to the Ahom kings. [44] During their sojourn in Khasi-land they assimilated much; dress (p. 5), ornaments (p. 6), personal names (p. 17), methods of divination (pp. 34, 35), funeral ceremonies (pp. 38-42), memorial stones (p. 42), all come from the Khasis, who have also contributed many words to their common speech. Borrowings from Hinduism are equally manifest in their language, their folk-tales, and their religion. Assamese words are numerous in Mikir; Arnàm Kethe (p. 30) seems to be a translation of Mahadeva; Jòm-aròng (p. 28), and the ideas linked therewith of an after-life, are strongly impressed with a Hindu stamp. Yet they retain, together with these borrowed features, a sufficiently definite stock of original characteristics. Physically they differ much from Khasi and Assamese alike. Their social fabric is based upon clearly marked exogamous groups, with patriarchal principles of marriage and inheritance; they call these by a Khasi name (kur), but have no trace of the matriarchal family as known among the Khasis. They build their houses on posts, while their neighbours, except the Kukis, build on the ground. Their deities are of the primitive kind which is common to all Indo-Chinese races, well known, under the name of Nats, as the object of popular worship and propitiation in Burma. Ever since the race has been studied, it has been noticed that it was difficult to establish its exact place and affinities in the heterogeneous congeries of peoples who inhabit the mountainous region between India and Burma. This was remarked by Robinson in 1841 and 1849, by Stewart in 1855, by Damant in 1879. At the Census of 1881 an attempt was made to bring the Mikirs into relation with the Boro or Kachari stock; but it was seen at the time that more must be ascertained regarding their neighbours before any final judgment could be arrived at. Dr. Grierson, on linguistic grounds, has classed them in the Linguistic Survey as intermediate between the Boro and the Western Nagas. It appears to the present writer, in the light of the much fuller information now available, that they should be classed rather with those tribes which form the connecting link between the Nagas and the Kuki-Chins, and that the preponderance of their affinities lies with the latter of these two races, especially those dwelling in the south of the Arakan Roma range, where the Chin tends to merge into the Burman of the Irawadi Valley. When Robinson and Stewart wrote, it was still remembered that the Mikirs had once been settled in strength in the country (now called North Cachar) to the immediate north of the Barail Range, and in contact with the Angami, the Kachcha, and the Kabui Nagas; and that, exposed as they were in this locality to the inroads of the Angamis and the oppression of the Kachari kings, they had migrated westwards to the territory of the Jaintia Raja in search of protection. It was noticed in the Assam Census Report of 1881 that in this region north of the Barail, where there are now no Mikirs, local names belonging to their language indicated their former presence. When they lived there, they must have been in touch with tribes belonging to the Kuki-Chin stock, who have for centuries occupied the hill ranges to the south of the valley of Cachar, and the mountains between that valley and Manipur. The institutions of co-operative agriculture by the village lads (p. 11), the bachelors' house or teràng (id.), the former custom of ante-nuptial promiscuity (p. 19), and the traces of village tabu resembling the Naga genna, still characterizing the annual festival of the Ròngker (p. 43), all point to a connection with the Western Naga tribes, rather than to affinity with the Kachari stock. From the Kuki and Chin tribes the Mikirs are distinguished chiefly by their pacific habits, and by the absence of the dependence upon hereditary tribal chiefs which is so strong a feature among the former. The customs of both races as regards the building of houses upon posts, with a hong or open platform in front, are identical; in Major G. E. Fryer's paper "On the Khyeng people of the Sandoway District, Arakan," published in the Journal of the Asiatic Society of Bengal for 1875 (pp. 39, 99), a Khyeng house is figured which bears a striking resemblance to the Mikir house. The institutions of domestic and individual life among the Khyengs (Chins), as described by Major Fryer, especially as regards marriage, funeral ceremonies, the disposal of the dead (after copious feasting of friends and relatives) by cremation, the rules of inheritance (females being wholly excluded from succession), the treatment of disease, the propitiation of spirits, and the annual festivals in honour of the gods who preside over man's welfare, present the closest analogy to those of the Mikirs as set forth in this monograph. Like the Mikirs, the Chins are divided into exogamous groups and follow the rule of male kinship; but, like the Mikirs also in this, the approved marriage is that between a man and his first cousin on the mother's side. It has been noticed already (p. 21) that the word for father-in-law (òng-hai, wife's father) in Mikir is identical with that for maternal uncle, òng, and that son-in-law, osa, also means nephew (sister's son). The story of "the Orphan and his Maternal Uncles" illustrates the obligation which lies on a lad to marry his mother's brother's daughter (see above, p. 53). Similarly, Harata Kunwar, though but a mortal, calls his father-in-law the Bari-the Recho ònghai (p. 147), and is spoken of by him as osa (id.), while the fairy princesses call him cousin, kòrpo (p. 127). The same phenomenon appears in the Kuki-Chin languages. In Shö or Chin (Khyeng) apu means both maternal uncle and father-in-law; so also in Lushei, pu has both meanings. The following list of words indicating relationship in Mikir and Lushei (representing the Central Kuki-Chins) shows how closely the two languages correspond in this important part of their vocabulary:-- Mikir. Lushei. grandfather phu pu grandmother phi pi grandson su-po tu-pa granddaughter su-pi tu-nu father po pa mother pei nu aunt: father's sister ni ni mother's sister pi-nu nu father's brother's wife ni nu Among all these tribes the most important index to racial connexion is to be found in their languages. No one would now assert that language, any more than religion, is everywhere a conclusive mark of racial unity; immense masses of the people of India to-day speak languages imposed upon them from without, and Aryan speech has extended itself over many millions in whose blood nothing is due to the original invaders from the north-west. Again, the practices of a predatory state of society bring into the tribe slaves and wives from outside; or, as among the Mikirs (p. 33), aliens may be accepted on equal terms as members, thus modifying the unity of blood. On the other hand, it would be equally unreasonable and opposed to the facts to deny that, among such communities as the Tibeto-Burman peoples of Assam, race and language do, constantly and in a general manner, coincide. People who speak a tongue which is unintelligible to their neighbours are necessarily thrown together into a unity of their own. Their ancestral ideas and institutions, secular and religious, their tribal history, must tend to keep them united, and perpetuate the influence of a common origin by the fact that all outside the community are actual or potential enemies. Language, therefore, when it coincides with tribal separateness, is our chief guide in determining the relationship of the hill tribes of Assam one to another. Here another qualification is, however, necessary. The word-stock of the Tibeto-Burman races is to a large extent identical. The same methods of arranging the elements of the sentence, in other words the same general principles of grammar, prevail throughout the whole family of speech. We must, therefore, in investigating the nearer kinship of one group to another, not be misled by linguistic resemblances which are common to the whole stock to which both groups belong. In comparing Tibeto-Burman languages it has been usual to choose for examination in the first place the numerals and in the second the pronouns. The vocabulary of nouns, adjectives, and verbs is liable to disturbing influences which do not equally affect the simple ideas represented by number and person. Let us begin, therefore, with the numerals. These, so far as they are necessary for our purpose, are as follows in Mikir:-- one, isi two, hini three, kethòm four, phili five, phòngo six, theròk seven, theròk-si eight, ner-kèp nine, sir-kèp ten, kèp eleven, kre-isi twelve, kre-hini thirteen, etc. kre-kethòm a score, ing-koi twenty-one, etc. ing-koi-ra-isi thirty, thòm-kèp forty, etc. phili-kèp a hundred, pharo Here the first thing to be noticed is that the three numerals between six and ten are not independent vocables, but compounds; seven is six plus one: eight is ten minus two, and nine is ten minus one. In most of the other languages of the family this is not so; the Boro, the Naga, and the majority of the Kuki-Chin languages all have independent words for seven, eight, and nine. It appears to be only in the Kuki-Chin group that we can find an analogy to the Mikir words for these three numerals. In Anal, a language of the Old Kuki family spoken in Manipur, seven is tak-si which seems to be identical with the Mikir theròk-si; and in Meithei (the language of the Manipuris) eight is ni-pan,"two from ten," and nine is ma-pan, "one from ten." We next notice that ten is expressed by two separate words, kèp (in ten and its multiples) and kre (in the compounds from eleven to nineteen). So far as vocabularies have yet been published, the only other tribes of the Tibeto-Burman family [45] which have a word resembling kèp for ten are Maring Naga, one of the Naga-Kuki languages, where it is chip, and Shö or southern Chin, where gip is used for ten in the sequence thirty, forty, fifty, etc. (thum-gip, thirty, mli-gip, forty, ngha-gip, fifty, exactly corresponding to the Mikir thòm-kèp, phili-kèp, phòngo-kèp). The close resemblance of the other numerals in Maring to Mikir forms is noticeable; four is fili, five funga, and six tharuk. The other word for ten, kre, strongly resembles the Angami kerr or kerru and the Kachcha Naga gareo; in the Central Naga group the prefix ke- has been replaced by ta- or te-, and the words for ten are ter, tara (Ao), taro, tara, tare (Lhota), etc. In the Naga-Kuki group Sopvoma has chiro, Maram kero, Tangkhul thara, etc. In the Kuki-Chin group Meithei tara is the same word: in the Central Chin another prefix, pu-, pö-, or pa-, is used, and we have Lai pöra, Banjogi para, Taungtha parha. There are no Boro forms which correspond to kre, nor any much resembling kèp. The Mikir word for twenty, ingkoi, is made up of the prefix ing-, and koi, formerly (before the loss of the final l) kol. Kachcha Naga has the same word, engkai, Kabui choi, koi, or kol. The word also appears in Garo (kol), Tipura (khol), and Deori-Chutiya (kwa), of the Boro group; Angami me-kwu, me-khi, mekko, Lhota me-kwi, mekwü, in the West and Central Naga groups; Maram and Sopvoma (make, makei), Tangkhul (maga), Phadeng (ma-kui), in the Naga-Kuki group, and Singpho khun. In the Kuki-Chin languages it is very common (Meithei kul, Siyin kul, Lai pö-kul, Shonshe ma-kul, Banjogi kul, Shö [Chin] kul, goi). There does not appear to be any trace of this word for a score in the Tibetan and Himalayan languages, where twenty is invariably rendered by "two-tens." [46] The Northern Indian word kori, which has the same meaning, has been compared with it; it is difficult, however, to imagine borrowing on one part or the other. In the series of tens, 30 to 90, Mikir prefixes the multiplier: thòm-kèp, phili-kèp, phòngo-kèp, etc. The Boro group prefixes the tens (Garo sot-bri, 40, sot-bongga, 50, sot-dok, 60, etc.). [47] The Naga group has both systems; Angami prefixes the tens: lhi [48]-da, 40, lhi-pangu, 50, lhi-suru, 60; Lhota and Ao suffix them: Lhota tham-dro, 30, zü-ro, 40, rok-ro, 60; Ao semur' 30, lir' 40, rok-ur' 60. In the Kuki-Chin group the majority of dialects prefix the tens (Thado and Lushei som-thum 30, som-li 40, etc.), and this is also the rule for Kachcha Naga, Kabui, and Khoirao, as well as for all the languages classed by Dr. Grierson as Naga-Kuki. But the Shö or southern Chins not only have the same collocation as the Mikirs (thum-gip, mli-gip, ngha-gip)--an arrangement which also obtains in Burmese,--but use the same words. This coincidence is very striking. The word for a hundred, pharo, bears no resemblance to any word expressing this numeral in the Boro languages. It agrees with the Angami kra, Kezhama kri, Sopvoma kre, and in a remarkable way with the words used by the Southern Chins (Taungtha ta-ya = tara, Chinbòk phya = phra, Yawdwin pra, Shö (Chin) krat). It will be seen that pha- in Mikir, k- in the Naga languages, and ta-, ph-, p- and k- in the Chin dialects, are numeral prefixes, and that the essential element of the numeral is ra (Mikir ro) or rat. It appears in this form, without any prefix, in several other Kuki-Chin languages. Here should be mentioned a custom which obtains in Mikir of counting by fours; a group of four is cheke or chike, which corresponds to the Boro zakhai (jakhai). This system is used for counting such things as eggs, betel-nuts, fowls, etc., of the same class; e.g. vo-ti chike phòngo-ra e-pum, 21 eggs (4 × 5 + 1): chike phòngo-ra pum-thòm, 23 eggs (4 × 5 + 3). Possibly one language has borrowed from the other. (This method of counting by fours is common throughout the Aryan languages of Northern India, where a group of four is called (ganda.) Our conclusion from these comparisons is that while Mikir has few coincidences, beyond those common to the whole Tibeto-Burman family, with the Boro group, it has many with the Naga and Kuki-Chin groups, and especially with the Shö or southernmost Chins. Before leaving the numerals, something must be said of the prefixes which they exhibit throughout the Tibeto-Burman family. Taking first that member for which we have the oldest materials, Tibetan, the first ten numerals are as follows:-- As written. As now spoken in Central Tibet. one gchig chik two gnyis nyi three gsum sum four bzhi shi five lnga nga six drug dhuk seven bdun dün eight brgyad gya nine dgu gu ten bchu chu Here we observe several different prefixes, once no doubt supplied with vowels, but from the dawn of written record united in Tibetan with the following consonant, and now no longer heard in utterance; in the first three units the prefix is g-: in four, seven, eight, and ten it is b-: in six and nine it is d-: and in five it is l-. In the Tibeto-Burman languages of Assam and Burma we find the same phenomenon of numeral prefixes; but while some languages have the same prefix throughout the ten units, others, like Tibetan, have several different prefixes. In some cases, again, the prefixes have been incorporated in the numeral and are no longer recognized as separable, while in others they may be dropped when the numeral occurs in composition; in others, again, the prefixes have (as in spoken Tibetan) been dropped altogether. Of the first class the best examples are the Central Kuki-Chin languages:-- Lai. Shonshe. Lushei. one pö-kat ma-kat pa-khat two pö-ni ma-nhi pa-nhih three pö-thum ma-ton pa-thum four pö-li ma-li pa-li five pö-nga ma-nga pa-nga six pö-ruk ma-ruk pa-ruk seven pö-sari ma-seri pa-sarih eight pö-ryeth ma-rit pa-riat nine pö-kwa ma-ko pa-kua ten pö-ra ma-ra shom Of the second class Mikir, in common with most of the Assam family, is an example; in one and two the prefix ke- (representing the Tibetan g-) has been abraded to i- and hi-: in three it persists; in these numbers the prefix may be dropped in composition, leaving si, ni, and thòm remaining. In four and five we have the prefix phi- (for pi-) and pho- (for po- or pa-), representing the b- of Tibetan, but now no longer separable. In six the prefix the- represents the original d-, and has similarly become inseparable. In ten, the form kre represents an original kera, answering to the Kuki-Chin pö-ra and ma-ra and the Meithei ta-ra. We notice that in Mikir, as in the Naga and Kuki-Chin languages, the hard consonants k, p, t (ph, th) have replaced the soft g, b, and d of the Tibetan. In the Boro languages, on the other hand, the original soft consonants of Tibetan are retained, as will be seen from the forms below:-- Boro. Dimasa. Garo. one se, sui shi sa two ni, nui gini gni three tham gatam gitam four brè, brui bri bri five ba bonga bongga six ro, do do dok In these changes Mikir follows the phonetic laws obtaining in Naga and Kuki-Chin, not those which obtain in Boro. It has been pointed out already (p. 78) that generic determinatives are used in Mikir when numbers are joined to nouns. This practice is common to the Boro languages and to the Kuki-Chin group (as well as Burmese), but does not appear to be prevalent in the Western Naga group. A list of the words used in Darrang Kachari is given at p. 13 of Mr. Endle's grammar; for Garo, a list will be found at p. 6 of Mr. Phillips's grammar; it much resembles the Darrang list, but neither contains any forms coinciding with those of Mikir except the Garo pat, used for leaves and other flat things, which resembles the Mikir pàk. On the other hand, in Kuki-Chin we have in Lai pum for globular things, [49] the same as in Mikir, and in Shö (Chin) we have for persons pün, the Mikir bàng (bàng in Mikir and pang in Lushei mean body), and for animals zün, the Mikir jòn (Mr. Houghton's grammar, p. 20). Here again the affinity of the Arleng is with the Kuki-Chin group, and especially with its southernmost member, rather than with the Boro. Turning now to the pronouns, the Mikir ne for the first person singular finds it exact equivalent only in the two Old Kuki dialects Anal and Hiroi, spoken in Manipur, where the corresponding pronoun is ni (Anal) and nai (Hiroi). In Boro the form is ang, in Angami a, in Sema ngi, in Ao ni, in Lhota a, in Kachcha Naga anui. In the majority of the Kuki-Chin family another stem, kei or ke, is used. Here Mikir agrees with the two Kuki dialects mentioned and with some of the Naga forms, rather than with Boro. For the second person singular all the Tibeto-Burman languages of Assam have nàng, or closely similar forms. For the third person Mikir now uses the demonstrative la, but, as the possessive prefix shows, had formerly a. In this it agrees with Lai, Lushei, Chiru, Kolren among the Kuki family, and Tangkhul and Maring among the Naga-Kuki group. What the original Boro pronoun of the third person was is not now ascertainable; the demonstrative bi (Darrang), be (Lalung), bo (Dimasa) or ua (Garo) is now used instead. This seems to correspond with the Mikir pe-, pi-, pa- in the words mentioned on p. 80. In Angami the pronoun is similarly po, in Sema pa, and in Ao pa. In Meithei and many other Kuki-Chin languages another demonstrative, ma, is used; this may be connected with the Mikir mi, me, in mini, to-day, menàp, to-morrow (see p. 80). But, although ma is used as a separate pronoun for the third person in the majority of the Kuki-Chin group, the prefixed a- of relation, usual in Mikir, which (as explained on p. 76) is really the possessive pronoun of the third person, is widely employed throughout the family, as a prefix both to nouns and adjectives, in exactly the same way as in Mikir. This coincidence, again, is striking; the Boro languages seem to present nothing similar. The plural pronouns in Mikir are formed by adding -tum to the singular. Exactly the same thing takes place in Tangkhul, a Naga-Kuki language: i, I, i-thum, we; na, thou, na-thum, ye; a, he, a-thum, they. The plural of nouns, however, in Tangkhul is formed by other affixes, generally words meaning "many" (cf. the Mikir òng). Mikir has two forms for the pronoun of the first person plural, according as the speaker includes the person addressed or excludes him, i-tum or e-tum in the former and ne-tum in the latter case. The first, it will be seen, agrees with the general word for we in Tangkhul. In Angami also two forms are used, he-ko for we exclusive, and a-vo for we inclusive; the former seems to agree in form, though not in sense, with the Mikir e-tum. The affinity of Mikir with the Western Naga and Naga-Kuki languages seems to be exemplified here also. The Boro languages have not the double form for this person. The reflexive pronoun or particle in Mikir, che (see p. 80), is represented in Thado Kuki by ki, which is perhaps the same word. Angami has the, Meithei na. Boro does not appear to possess any corresponding particle. The interrogative particle -ma in Mikir (p. 80) is mo in most of the Kuki-Chin languages (in some -em, -am), while in Angami it is ma, and in Kachcha Naga me. The same particle (ma) is used in Garo and Boro for questions. Two particles are used in Mikir as suffixes to magnify or diminish the root-word; the augmentative is -pi (as thèng, wood, firewood, thèngpi, a tree; làng, water, làngpi, the great water, the sea), the diminutive is -so (as hèm, a house, hèmso, a hut; làng-so, a brook). Boro has -ma for the augmentative, -sa for the diminutive (dui-ma, great river, dui-sa, brook); but Meithei and Thado have the same particles as Mikir, -pi and -cha (ch is equivalent to s). The Mikir suffix -po, feminine -pi, corresponding to the Hindi -wala (see several examples on p. 12 ante), seems to be identical with the Meithei -ba (-pa) and -bi (-pi), though it has nothing like the extensive use in Mikir which -ba (-pa) has in Meithei. The noteworthy separable prefix ar- in Mikir, which is probably connected with the Tibetan prefix r- (see ante, p. 129, note), appears to occur in the Kuki-Chin languages, but does not seem to have any representative in the Boro family. The examples in the Kuki-Chin volume of the Linguistic Survey are found in Rangkhol (p. 6, er-ming, "name"), Aimol (p. 215, ra-mai, "tail," Mikir arme), Kom (p. 245, ra-mhing, "name"; ra-nai, "earth, ground" [nai perhaps = Mikir le in lòng-le]), Kyaw or Chaw (p. 254), and Hiroi (p. 282). All these forms of speech belong to the Old Kuki group, which has already yielded several other analogies with Mikir. The prefix ke- (ki-, ka-), which plays so important a part in Mikir (see pp. 77, 83, 84) in the formation of adjectives, participles, and verbal nouns, and answers to the Boro ga- and the Angami ke-, has for the most part disappeared from the Kuki dialects, perhaps because it conflicts with the prefixed pronominal stem of the first person, ka-. It survives, however, in the three Old Kuki languages, Kom, Anal, and Hiroi. In Tangkhul, of the Naga-Kuki group, it is used exactly as in Mikir, to form adjectives and verbal nouns, e.g.:-- Mikir. Tangkhul. to come ke-vàng ka-va (to go) to eat ke-cho ka-shai to remain ke-bòm ka-pam (to sit) to beat ke-chòk ka-sho to die ke-thi ka-thi The particles used in Mikir as suffixes to indicate tenses of the verb, with the exception of that for the completed past, tàng, which appears to be identical with the Thado and Lushei ta, do not seem to have any close analogues in the Kuki-Chin or Naga-Kuki groups; they are also quite different from those used in the Boro group. Causative verbs, however, are in many Kuki-Chin languages constructed with the verb pe or pèk, "to give," as in Mikir; and the suffix of the conjunctive participle in Mikir, -si, is perhaps the same as -chu in Khoirao. In Boro the prefix fi-, answering to the Mikir pi-, was formerly used to form causatives, as appears from verbal roots in current use; the construction now most common uses -nu, which has the same meaning ("to give") as a suffix. The negative verb in Mikir is formed by suffixing the particle -e to the positive root, when the latter begins with a vowel. Similarly, in Boro a negative verb is formed by adding the particle -a. In the Kuki-Chin languages different suffixes are employed (lo, lai, loi, mak, ri), and in a few dialects prefixes. Here Mikir resembles Boro rather than the Kuki group. But the remarkable feature of Mikir in reduplicating initial consonants before the suffixed negative (see ante, p. 85) has no analogy in either family, unless the isolated example in Kolren (an Old Kuki dialect) quoted in the Linguistic Survey, vol. III., part iii., p. 19, supplies one. It is to be observed, however, that in the construction there cited (na-pe-pèk-mao-yai, "did not give"), the verb pèk has suffixed to it the negative particle mao, and that the reduplication alone appears to have no negative force. Other examples seem necessary before the rule of reduplication can be considered to be established. Possibly loi and lai in Kuki correspond to the separate Mikir negative ka-li (see ante, p. 86). It remains to give some examples of correspondence in general vocabulary between Mikir and other Tibeto-Burman languages. It has been shown above from the analysis of the numerals that prefixes play a large part in all these languages. These prefixes, which to some extent are interchangeable, and also differ in the different members of the family, have to be eliminated in order to find the roots which are to be compared. Again, certain changes in vowels and consonants between different languages regularly occur. Our knowledge is not yet sufficient to enable a law of interchange to be formulated; but the following conclusions seem to be justified. In vowels, Mikir has a preference for long o where other languages have -a, especially in auslaut; [50] on the other hand long a in Mikir is sometimes thinned down to e; the word recho, answering to the Aryan raja, is an example of both processes. Long i in Mikir often corresponds to oi and ai, as well as to e and ei, in the cognates. As regards consonants, nasals at the end of syllables are often rejected; thus within Mikir itself we have o and òng, da and dàm, ne and nèng, la and làng. Some languages (as for instance Angami [51] Naga) tolerate no consonantal endings, not even a nasal. In Mikir itself final l has been vocalised into i or dropped; and in many Naga and Kuki-Chin dialects (as also in Burmese) final consonants have disappeared or have suffered great changes. As already noticed, the surd mutes k, p, t (sometimes aspirated) have taken the place of the original sonants g, b, d to a large extent in Mikir, though b and d (not g) still survive in a fair proportion of words. Boro generally retains the old sonants of Tibetan, and Meithei uses both classes according to the adjacent sounds. The palatals ch, j of Mikir tend to become sibilants, s, ts, z, in the cognate languages; j is also often softened to y in Kuki-Chin. L and r in anlaut frequently interchange in Meithei, the interchange depending on the adjacent vowels. These letters also interchange freely in other languages of the family. In Burmese r has everywhere been changed to y, except in Arakan. L and n also often interchange. Initial d in Mikir seems sometimes to correspond to l in other cognates; and it is possible that Mikir initial s may occasionally be represented by h in the latter, though this is not quite certain. Th and s often interchange in anlaut, some dialects of Kuki-Chin showing the intermediate stage of [theta], which in Burmese now everywhere replaces original s. Lastly, it should be noticed that Tipura, an outlying member of the Boro group, often exhibits a sound system more closely corresponding to that of the Kuki-Chin languages (which are its neighbours) than Boro, Dimasa, or Garo. The resemblances in vocabulary between Mikir and the Western Naga dialects are extensive, as will be seen from the list (due to Mr. A. W. Davis) at p. 201, vol. III., part ii., of the Linguistic Survey. These need not be repeated here. The following is a list of Boro (Darrang), Dimasa, Garo, and Tipura words which seem to correspond with Mikir. It will be seen, however, by reference to the columns headed Kuki-Chin and Naga (including Naga-Kuki), that in the case of nearly all these words the other two families, as well as Mikir, have the same roots. They therefore belong to the common stock of the Tibeto-Burman languages of Assam, and do not by themselves prove any close connection of Mikir with Boro. NOUNS. English. Mikir. Boro Kuki-Chin. Naga. family. nose nokàn Garo, Meithei Tangkhul nukum, natol (n) natung nakung Thado nakui Angami a-niki Tipura, Lushei nhar E. Naga bukung nakong, natong eye mèk Boro megan Meithei } Ang. mhi, mhü Dimasa mu Thado } mit Tangk. mik Garo Lushei } Maram mek mik-ren Shö (Chin) E. Naga mik mik, mek mouth ing-ho Boro Lushei ka Ang. tha, khu-ga Khami kha me-tha Dimasa khau Shö kho Rengma Garo màng-khòng ho-tom, ku-sik tooth so Boro Andro sho Ang. ho, hu ha-thau Sengmai shoa Sema a-hu Dimasa id. Thado } ha Lushei } Shö haw ear no Garo Meithei } na Ang. nü na-chil, Lai } Lhota en-no na-kal Shö a-nho Maring ka-na face me-hàng Boro Meithei mae makhàng Lushei hmai Garo mikkang Tipura mukhàng belly pòk Dimasa ho Meithei puk Ang. va Garo ok, Andro puk Sema a-pfo pi-puk Shö puk Lhota o-pòk Tipura Lai paw bahak Thado wai father po Boro } fa Meithei } Ang. po Dimasa } Lushei } pa Sema pa Garo pa, ba Thado } Ao ta-ba Tipura ba Sengmai } Lhota o-po Khami } po Shö } son so-po Boro f'sa Meithei } chapa Lhota o-tsöe Dimasa Thado } Maring cha pasa, sa Khami chopo Hatigoria Garo sa, Shö cho chapa pi-sa Tipura basa daughter so-pi Dimasa Meithei pu-su cha-(anu)-pi Khami numpui-cho cat mèng, Garo Thado meng-cha mèng-kalu mèng-go Tipura Ranghkhol a-ming meng Shö min iron ingchin Boro shurr Andro sen, sel Ang. the-zhi Dimasa sher Lushei thir Yachumi Garo Thado } thi inchi sil, sar Shö } Thukumi ise Tipura sir Khami sing ADJECTIVES. English. Mikir. Boro family. Kuki-Chin. Naga. big kethe Boro gadet Ang. kedi small kibi, bi-hèk Boro gahai Meithei a-pisek bitter keho Boro gakha Lushei kha Meithei kha-ba Thado a-kha cold ke-chung Boro gazang Lushei shik beautiful mesèn, me Boro mozang Lushei moi VERBS. go dàm Boro } Ang. ta Dimasa } thàng Sopvoma ta-o Tipura } Maring ta-so come vàng Boro } Ang. vor Dimasa } fai Kwoireng } pa-lo Tipura } Maram } eat cho Boro za Meithei cha-ba Ang. chi Dimasa ji Khami cha Kwoireng tyu-lo Garo cha, sa (Burmese Tangkhul ka-shai Tipura cha cha, tsa) beat chòk Dimasa shu Tangkhul ka-sho die thi Boro thoi Meithei si-ba Ang. sa Dimasa ti, thei Thado thi Sema ti Garo ti, si, Lushei ti Sopvoma thiye tai Khami dei Maram tei-lo Tipura thai Tangkhul ka-thi run kàt Boro khat Meithei chatpa Tangkhul ka-chat Dimasa khai (?) (to go) Garo kat Andro kat-e say pu Boro bung Ang. pu do, work klèm Boro khlàm think matha Boro mithi be necessary nàng Boro nàng Lushei ngai Garo nàng The above list exhibits all the coincidences which could be found on a search through the vocabulary appended to Mr. Endle's Kachari grammar, and it will be seen that the agreement is not extensive. The words in which Tibeto-Burman languages agree most widely with one another are perhaps those for water and village; for the former di, ti, tui, dzü, zu, ji, chi, and other similar forms, all apparently identical with the Tibetan chhu and the Turki su, run through the whole family: for the latter khul, khu, ku (Turki ku, kui) are similarly widespread. It is somewhat surprising to find in Mikir an exception to the general rule. Water is làng, and village is ròng. Searching through the tribal vocabularies, Tangkhul Naga (a Naga-Kuki form of speech) appears to have, in ta-ra, the corresponding word to làng (r = l, and ta a prefix). Nowhere else in the neighbourhood is there a trace of a similar word until we come to Burmese, where water is re (now pronounced ye). Similarly, it appears to be only in Burmese that we have a word for village, rwa, corresponding to the Mikir ròng. These coincidences, like others already mentioned, seem to point to the south for the affinities of the Mikir race. At the same time it is to be observed that Mikir appears once to have had, like the Kuki-Chin languages generally, the word ti for water. This survives in the word for egg, vo-ti, which must mean "fowl's water," and corresponds in sense to the Boro dau-dui, Chutiya du-ji, Garo do-chi, Shö (Chin) a-tui. In Angami and Lushei "fowl" is omitted, and the word for "egg" is merely dzü, tui, = water. [52] It would be tedious to enumerate the coincidences in vocabulary which are found between Mikir and all the Kuki-Chin dialects. We have had reason to expect that these coincidences will be found to be most numerous with the Chin languages spoken in the Southern Hill tracts to the west of the Irawadi Valley; and the following list of similar words will show that this expectation is borne out by the facts. In most cases the forms in Lushei, a leading language of the Central Kuki-Chin group, are added; where they are wanting the Mikir word does not appear to have any corresponding form in that language. [53] NOUNS. English. Mikir. Chin (Shö). male (of man) pinso pa-tho (Lushei pasal) female (of mankind) -pi suffixed -nü [54] suffixed (L. nu, and pui) body bàng a-pün (L. pàng) corpse aru ayo (L. ruang) face mehàng hmoi-san (L. hmai) nose no-kàn hnut-to (Meithei na-ton, L. hna) ear no a-hno eye mèk a-mi, mik (L. mit) [tear amèk-kri a-mi-khli] tongue de le (L. lei) mind, breast, heart ning a-mlüng (L. lung) [angry a-ning-kethi a-mlüng-thö (L. thi-n-lung-sha)] back nung a-hling (L. hnung) arm phàng bawn (L. bawn) foot, leg kèng khön or khö (L. ke, Burmese khyè) stomach pòk pük [stomach-ache pòk-keso pük-tho] hair of body ang-mi a-hmaw (L. hmul) bone re-pi yo'' (Lushei ruh, Angami ru) tail ar-me ho-me (L. mei) old man, chief sar, sarpo hsan, hsan-bo son oso, so-po hso (Burmese sa [[Greek: theta]a]) tiger te-ke a-kye (L. sa-kei, Burmese kya) cow chainòng hsaw-nü (L. se-bawng) pig phàk wök, wo (Burmese wak) squirrel karle a-hle (L. the-hlei) rat phiju pha-yü (L. sa-zu) bird vo wu (L. va) kite vo-mu a-hmu (L. mu) parrot vo-kèk a-kye (L. va-ki, Burmese kye) bat vo-arplàk phalauh crayfish, prawn chekung kye-khön (L. kai-kuang) scale of fish lip lit (L. hlip) louse rèk hèk (L. hrik) land-leech ingphàt a-wot (L. vang-vàt) sun ar-ni kho-ni (L. anni, ni) moon chi-klo khlo (L. thla) night a-jo yan (L. zan, jan) rain ar-ve yo-o (L. ruah, Burmese rwa) fire me me (L. mei) [a flint for me-chèt a-lòng me-kha-lün (L. mei-lung), striking fire i.e. fire-spark-stone] fire-spark-stone smoke mihi me-khü (L. mei-khu) steam hi a-hu (L. hu) stone ar-lòng a-lün (L. lung) rice sàng saung vegetables hàn awn (L. an) house hèm in (L. in, Burmese im) wood, tree thèng, thèngpi then'' (L. thing) leaf lo law (Meithei la, Thado na, L. hna) fruit a-the the (L. thei) seed a-the se cotton phelo phoi broom ar-phèk pha-phe iron ingchin n'thi (L. thir) arrow thai a-thaw (L. thal) bow thai-li a-li (L. thal-ngul) boat te-lòng hmlu or hmlü (L. long) earring no-thèngpi na-thong basket tòn tawng dream màng maung (L. mang) name mèn a-mín (L. hming) matter, affair hormu a-hmu (Burmese id.) heap bui a-pün (L. vung, bum) place dim awn-dün edge, border a-pre a-pe rope a-ri a-yöh (L. hrui) handle be bi'' (to take, seize), (L. bèng) Verbs. to pour out bu, bup bauk, bo (L. buak, [55] bun) to put bi bi (to clap, pat) to jump chòng dong (L. zuang) to die thi dü, di (L. thi to kill by cutting thu thük, tük to pound tòk dut'' to open ing-pu hü to sleep, lie down i i'' (Burmese ip) to hinder khàng kha to fall klo, kli klauk (Burmese kra, L. tla, tlak) to grind koi-i kluk to be bitter ho kho (L. kha) to bend kekèk kòk-lök, khü-i to tie, fasten kòk khun to laugh ing-nèk hlek; also noi (Meithei nok, L. nui) to arrive, hit le leng to be distant he-lo hlo (L. hla) to get, obtain lòng lö-e to lick ing-lèk m-le-e (L. liak, hliao) to be happy me moi to extinguish pe-mèp hmyit (L. ti-mit) to smell ing-nim nan (L. hnim) to be yellow èt oi (L. eng) to speak pu pauh (a word, language) to give pi pèk (L. pèk, pe) to be full plèng ple to reach, touch pho pho (L. pawh, phak) to pull out phu phuk (L. phoi) to work, labour sai saih to wash chàm shau (L. shuk) to beat chòk shö to pierce chàng shün, hsün (L. chhun) to begin chèng si to explain thàn hsin to be wet chàm so to know, perceive thèk thàk, the to be fat ing-tu thau (L. thao) to itch ing-thàk thauk (L. thak) to rise, get up thur thö, thü (L. tho, thawh) to send toi tho to weave thàk to-tàk (L. tah) to rot thu thü (L. toih) to be sweet dòk tü-i to cover, veil up, òp ün'' (L. hup) to throw var wo'' (L. vorh) to hear ar-ju yauk to sell jòr yi'' (L. zuar) A few words from Lushei may be added, for which Southern Chin does not appear to possess corresponding terms:-- English. Mikir. Lushei. buffalo chelòng cheloi bear thòk-vàm sa-vom, vom [56] deer (sambhar) thi-jòk sa-zuk snake phi-rui ma-rul, rul monkey me-sàng zawng frog ("the jumper") chòng-ho chung-u mosquito timsik tho-shi water-leech ing-lit hlit, sai-hlit crab chehe chak-ai devil hi-i huai These close and numerous correspondences between Mikir and the Kuki-Chin family appear to warrant the conclusion that the former is intimately connected with the latter. The institutions of the southern tribes, as already pointed out, confirm this conclusion; and it may be asserted with some confidence that no such extensive affinity can be proved between Mikir and the Boro family. As regards the Western Nagas, while the institutions largely correspond, the coincidences in language, though more numerous than those with Boro, are much fewer than those with Kuki-Chin. The Southern Nagas, and especially the Tangkhuls, who form the group intermediate between Naga and Kuki, have a considerably closer affinity with Mikir. Possibly if the inquiry were pushed further into Burmese than is within the power of the present writer, more correspondences with Mikir might be discovered in that language. BIBLIOGRAPHY. 1. A descriptive account of Asam, with a sketch of the local geography, and a concise history of the Tea-plant of Asam, to which is added a short account of the neighbouring tribes, exhibiting their history, manners and customs, by William Robinson, Gowhatti Government Seminary: Calcutta, 1841. Account of the Mikirs at pp. 308-312. The facts stated agree generally with those recorded by Mr. Stack. The chief deity of the Mikirs is called Hempatin. This may be a mistranscription for Hemphu, but is more probably a mistake due to a confusion between Mikirs and Kukis; Patin (or a closely similar form) is the word for God in a number of the Kuki dialects (Khongzai, Thado, Lushei, Rangkhol, Aimol, Kolren, etc.). Of course if the name Hempatin was ever actually used by the Mikirs for their chief tribal god, this would be an additional important evidence of a connexion between them and the Kukis. 2. Notes on the languages of the various tribes inhabiting the Valley of Asam and its mountain confines, by Wm. Robinson, Inspector of Government Schools in Asam. Journal of the Asiatic Society of Bengal, vol. xviii. (1849). The Mikir language is treated at pp. 330-336. It is probable from certain indications that the Mikir words were written down for Mr. Robinson in Assamese characters, and transliterated by him into Roman. There are a great many misprints. The declension of nouns, the distinctions of gender, and the position of adjectives are in general correctly explained; but the important prefix a- is not noticed, nor its original force understood. The omission of the plural affix -tum is remarkable. The numerals agree with those of the present day, save that ch is used (as in Assamese) to indicate s. The use of determinative class-words with numerals is mentioned. The personal pronouns are in part correctly, but often wrongly given; the demonstrative pronouns are wrongly stated, and so are the interrogatives. The absence of a relative pronoun, and the substitute for it, are noticed. In the verbal forms there are many errors, unless the particles used to indicate time have greatly changed since 1849, which is improbable. Thus, -ye is given as the future suffix instead of -ji, and -bo instead of -po. The participle in ke-, ki-, ka- is omitted, and the much-used conjunctive participle in -si is misrepresented as the present participle. There is no mention of the past in tàng; ayok (possibly a mistranscription of the Assamese) is given instead of apòt as the particle indicating purpose. The form of the negative verb is altogether misunderstood. There is no mention of the causative in pe-, pi-, pa-. One interesting point in Mr. Robinson's grammatical sketch is that words borrowed from Assamese, which now end in -i as a substitute for Assamese l, as hai for hal, tamoi for tamol, pitoi for pitol, are all written with l; and in the following cases final l appears in Mikir words now written with final i:-- ingkol, a score, now ingkoi inghol, to do, now inghoi sal (field-) work, now sai aphel, afterwards, now aphi phurul, snake, now phirui It seems possible that this represents a real change in pronunciation, since l was certainly the original ending in the borrowed words, and most probably (from the similar forms in the Kuki-Chin languages) was the original ending in the Mikir words. This vocalization of final l is quite common in the Kuki dialects, and is an additional argument for their connexion with Mikir. 3. Travels and adventures in the Province of Assam, by Major John Butler: London, Smith, Elder & Co., 1855. The Mikirs are described at pp. 126-139. Major Butler was in charge of the district of Nowgong, and visited the Mikir Hills in 1848. His notes on the Mikir people are not very detailed, but indicate that their condition sixty years ago was much the same as it is now. On the question of polygamy (see ante, p. 19), he writes (p. 138): "Polygamy is not practised, and they reproach their countrymen of the plains for having adopted the Assamese custom." 4. Notes on Northern Cachar, by Lieut. R. Stewart. J.A.S.B., vol. xxiv. (1855), pp. 582-701. This treatise is an excellent account of the various tribes inhabiting the tract. The Mikirs are dealt with at pp. 604-607. There is a full and useful comparative vocabulary at pp. 658-675 of more than 400 words, besides verbal and adverbial forms, in Manipuri, Hill Kachari (Dimasa), New Kuki (Thado), Angami Naga, Arung Naga (or Empeo), Old Kuki (Bete), and Mikir. This is much the most important evidence of the state of the language half a century ago, and is superior in several respects to the materials collected a little earlier by Robinson (to which Stewart does not refer). The Mikir words are generally recognisable as identical with those of the present day, and it is noticeable, with reference to the change of final l to i, that Stewart gives the forms now in use (pitoi, brass, pheroi, snake, ingkoi, a score, in(g)hoi, to do). The verbs are chiefly given in the imperative, with nòn (often wrongly printed not), sometimes as the bare root, and sometimes with -lo added. There are some good measurements and other physical characters of Mikirs at pp. 690-693, from which it appears that in Lieut. Stewart's time most of the Mikir men shaved their heads, with the exception of a large tuft of hair on the scalp. 5. Descriptive Ethnology of Bengal, by Col. E. T. Dalton: Calcutta, 1872. There is a brief section on the Mikirs at pp. 53-4, which however contains no information that is not in Robinson or Stewart. The race is not among those figured in the volume. 6. Specimens of the Languages of India, collected by Sir George Campbell: Calcutta, 1874. The specimens of Mikir are at pp. 205-217; they are full of misprints and misunderstandings of what was desired, and are worthless for linguistic purposes. 7. A Vocabulary in English and Mikir, with sentences illustrating the use of words, by the Rev. R. E. Neighbor, of Nowgong, Assam: Calcutta, 1878. A most useful publication. 8. Notes on the Locality and Population of the Tribes dwelling between the Brahmaputra and Ningthi Rivers, by G. H. Damant. Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society, vol. xii., 1880, pp. 228 ff. A posthumous work (Mr. Damant was killed in the Naga Hills in 1879). The Mikirs are mentioned on p. 236, and there is a short vocabulary on p. 254. 9. A Statistical Account of Assam, compiled by J. S. Cotton under the direction of W. W. Hunter: London, 1879. Contains an article on the Mikirs at vol. ii., pp. 188-190. 10. A Gazetteer of India, by Sir W. W. Hunter, London. First edition 1881, second edition 1886. Article on the Mikir Hills and their inhabitants. 11 to 13. The next occasions on which the tribe was dealt with were in the Reports of the Censuses of 1881, 1891, and 1901 (Assam Province):-- 11. The Report on the Census of 1881 (Calcutta, 1883) contains a chapter (VI.) on Castes and Tribes, written by Mr. Stack. The Mikirs are described at pp. 77-82. The inquiries on which these paragraphs were based were followed by the more detailed investigations which afforded the materials for the present monograph. 12. The Report on the Census of 1891, by Mr. E. A. Gait, reproduces part of the matter of the previous report relating to the Mikirs, and adds the detailed list of kurs or exogamous divisions already referred to (ante, pp. 23 ff.). It also contains an interesting comparison of the Mikir language with those of the Naga tribes, by Mr. A. W. Davis (reproduced in the Linguistic Survey, vol. iii., part ii., pp. 198-202). At pp. 254-256 there is an account of the Mikirs in North Cachar by Mr. E. C. Baker, sub-divisional officer, which states that their principal deity is called "Pertart Rijie." This is correctly Pirthàt Recho, the first word being the Khasi Pyrthat,"thunder," and indicates a borrowing by the small remaining Mikir population in North Cachar of the ideas of their Khasi neighbours. 13. The Report on the Census of 1901, by Mr. B. C. Allen: Shillong, 1902. A few remarks on the religion of the Mikirs will be found at pp. 46-47, which however require correction by the more accurate data contained in this monograph. 14. The Tribes of the Brahmaputra Valley, by Lt.-Col. L. A. Waddell, I.M.S.: J.A.S.B., vol. lxix., part iii., 1900. This account is chiefly based on anthropometrical data. The facts stated concerning the Arlengs at pp. 29-35 appear to be taken from Dalton and the Assam Census Reports of 1881 and 1891. The measurements taken by Col. Waddell (see ante, p. 4) are at pp. 78-79. The tribe is not figured in the plates appended to the paper. 15. Linguistic Survey of India, vol. iii., part ii., compiled and edited by Dr. G. A. Grierson, Calcutta, 1902. The Mikir language is dealt with at pp. 380-410 and 432-448. 16. An English-Mikir Vocabulary, with Assamese Equivalents, to which have been added a few Mikir phrases, by S[ardoka] P[errin] Kay: Shillong, Govt. Press, 1904. An extremely useful book by an educated Mikir (see Introductory Note, p. viii.). Sardoka was Mr. Stack's chief authority on the Mikir language. The phrases (388 in number) are very important illustrations of the structure of the speech. The vocabulary is an enlargement of Mr. Neighbor's work (No. 7). A Mikir-English dictionary or vocabulary is still a desideratum. The following is a list of all the publications in the Mikir language which have come under the notice of the writer. They are all due to missionaries. 1. Dhorom Arnàm aphràng ikithàn: First Catechism, in Mikir (Assamese character), pp. 13. Anon. Sibsagar, 1875. 2. Arlèng Alàm, a Mikir Primer, by Miss E. Pursell, 1891. 3. Arlèng Alàm (Plipli-akitàp) [57] A Mikir Primer. Anon. Published by the American Baptist Mission, Tika, Nowgong, Assam, 1903. 4. Arlèng Alàm, Angbòng akitàp. Mikir Reader, second book, by the Rev. J. M. Carvell and Thengkur Pandit. Published by the Government of Assam, Shillong, 1904. 5. Arlèng kalakha akitàp. Mikir Primary Arithmetic, by the Rev. P. E. Moore and the Rev. J. M. Carvell. Published by the Assam Secretariat Press, Shillong, 1904. 6. Birta Keme, "Glad Tidings," in Mikir, by Mosendra Pandit and Missionaries to the Mikirs. Published by the American Baptist Missionary Union, Tika, Assam, 1904. A summary of the Gospel history and teaching. (All except the first are in the Roman character.) NOTES [1] The record of these travels, under the name Six Months in Persia (two vols.), was published in 1882; "A really clever and trustworthy, readable, book," was the judgment on it of the late Sir Frederic Goldsmid--the best of all judges. [2] See Bibliography, No. 7. [3] See Bibliography, No. 15. [4] I must apologize for the misdescription of these gentlemen at pp. 44 and 70, as of the American Presbyterian Mission. [5] This is the official spelling. The real name is Kala-jwar, pronounced Kola-jor (or zor), which means "black fever." [6] It has been asserted that Arlèng means properly only a Mikir man, not a man in general, who would be called monit or munit. This, however, is opposed to usage as exemplified in the folk-tales collected by Mr. Stack, and to well-established parallels found elsewhere. Thus, in Assam, Mande (= man) is the national name of the Garos; Chingpho (= man) is the tribal name of the race so called in the Upper Dehing valley; Boro (= man) is the proper designation of the Kachari race. So, in Chutia Nagpur, the Munda people of Ranchi call themselves Horo (= man). Similar cases are found all over the world. In Europe, for example, the name Deutsch for the Germanic race indicates that their ancestors spoke of themselves as "the people" (diot, diota), ignoring the other members of humankind. Munit is a very recent loan-word from Assamese, and nowhere occurs in the tales. [7] One is tempted to conjecture that this statement is an error based on a confusion between the Miris and the Mikirs in Colonel Dalton's notebooks. The custom referred to obtains among the Miris. [8] In the Proceedings of the Asiatic Society of Bengal for 1874, p. 17, there is an illustration and description of a Mikir "bachelors' house," or teràng, by Mr. C. Brownlow, a tea-planter in Cachar. The group of Mikirs among whom it was found lived at the head of the Kopili river, looking down on the Cachar valley. [9] Other authorities mention a fifth, Teròn, which Mr. Stack may have overlooked because of the similarity of its name to Teràng. [10] P. 8. [11] In the story of Harata Kunwar, post, p. 57, a second or co-wife is mentioned (Mikir, patèng, paju). [12] This is an Assamese word, mel. The Mikirs cannot pronounce a final l, and always omit it or change it to i or y in words adopted from Assamese; e.g. hal, plough, becomes hay; pitol, brass, pitoi; tamol, betel-nut, tamoi. [13] Qu. Rongphar? [14] This name, which means "Jòm or Yama's town," is often incorrectly written Chomarong or Chumarong. [15] Sentences enclosed in quotation marks were so written by Mr. Stack, and are probably the ipsissima verba of his informants. [16] Sir Joseph Hooker (Himalayan Journals, ed. 1855, vol. ii. p. 182) relates that at the Donkia Pass, one of his servants, a Lepcha, being taken ill, "a Lama of our party offered up prayers to Kinchinjhow for his recovery." Perching a saddle on a stone, and burning incense before it, "he scattered rice to the winds, invoking Kinchin, Donkia, and all the neighbouring peaks." [17] Such worship of objects and places of an impressive character is, of course, common throughout India. Thus, in the Pachmarhi Hills the writer has seen flowers and red lead (sindur) offered at the brink of a terrible gulf of the kind so common in the plateau. Again, at Balharpur, in the Chanda district of the Central Provinces, he has seen worship offered to a bastion in a solidly built ruined fort adjoining the village.--(Note by Editor.) [18] So also among the Khasis; see Khasi Monograph, p. 119, bottom. [19] This also is evidently borrowed from the Khasis. See Monograph, p. 221. [20] Compare the Khasi methods of divination by the lime-case (shanam), and the bow (Monograph, p. 119). [21] Mr. Stack notes that there was some reluctance on the part of his informant to explain what was meant. [22] Not further explained. [23] See, however, what is said above as to the Ròngker, which agrees with the observances elsewhere known as gennas. [24] "Gourd": the word hànthar in the original is explained by Mr. Stack as the name of "a creeper, with a fruit as big as a small pumpkin, with a hard kernel in soft rind; the kernel is the size of a mango-stone; the marrow inside is in two slices; when washed, it loses its bitter taste, and can be fried, oil exuding. It is a favourite dish with the Mikirs." It is, therefore, not really a gourd, but I am unable to identify the species. [25] "Sparrow": vo-ar-bipi, explained as a small bird, the size of a sparrow. In the Aimol version the corresponding word is rendered "bat"; but a bat in Mikir is vo-arplàk, and a bat has no nest (tar) as the bird has here. [26] "Stinging-nettle": tarme-làngbòng; this is probably not a nettle (urtica), but some other kind of blistering plant found in the Assam jungles; tarme means a creeper, làngbòng a vessel made of bamboo to hold water. [27] Fish-trap, ru: a bamboo cage placed in an opening in a weir or dam built of stones or constructed of wattled boughs, so that the fish entering cannot get out. The same word is used later (see note p. 53) for the iron cage (ingchin aru) in which the orphan is confined. [28] "May a tiger eat you, you wicked boy!" Teke nàng kòrdutpi a-osó, literally, "You tiger-bitten boy!" pi is a syllable used in abuse, as po ("father") is used in the opposite sense, e.g. po-arnàm-po, "My good sir!" literally, "father-god-father;" lower down, addressing a girl, pe ("mother") is similarly used: "pe-arnàm-pi," "dear girl!" [29] Cloth-full, mànthung: a cloth or wrapper (pe) folded cylindrically into a bag, and tied at the top and bottom with slit bamboo (jingtàk). [30] "Iron cage": see note on p. 48 above. [31] The nòksèk: the part of the house (in kàm: see plan, p. 8) between the fireplace and the middle partition, where the offerings of food for the spirits of the dead are placed. [32] "A field-watcher's hut," hèm-thàp: a small hut, raised high upon posts and thatched over, built in a clearing for cultivation, in which the cultivator passes the night for the purpose of scaring wild pigs and deer away from the crop. [33] A species of potherb, so-called in Assamese: Bengali putika, Basella lucida. It has red juicy fruit. [34] Notice the simplicity of life indicated by the occupations the fairy princesses have to attend to on their return to their celestial home. [35] The exact species of these flowers is not vouched for; those named are common in the house-gardens of Assamese cultivators. [36] See the note on p. 60. [37] The flesh of animals killed by hunters is cut into strips and dried in the sun on frames of bamboo, for future use. The frames are called in Mikir ur and ràp. [38] "Jungle-cock": Gallus ferrugineus, the wild fowl of Assam jungles. [39] "Cock-pheasant": vorèk alopo, the dorik (Ass.) or "derrick," Gennæus Horsfieldii, the black-breasted kalij pheasant of north-east India. [40] There are certain particles, jo, jàm, hur, hòr, and krei, used to indicate plurality when this is necessary; but they are inserted between the root and the tense-suffix, which is invariable. [41] Pe- and pi- are used with monosyllables, pa- with most polysyllables; pa + ing = pàng. [42] See "Khasi Monograph," p. 211. [43] Reference may here be made to a summary of the Gospel history in Mikir entitled Birta Keme, "Glad tidings," published by the American Baptist Mission Press, Tika, Nowgong, in 1904. [44] This seems to have taken place in or about 1765 A.D. See Gait, History of Assam, p. 181. [45] Words resembling kèp are found for ten in some of the pronominalized languages of the lower Himalayas of Nepal; but these do not enter into our present field of comparison. [46] Lepcha kha, Khaling khal, are probably the same word. [47] Other Boro languages borrow Aryan words for higher numbers than ten. [48] Lhi is the relic of kre, with the prefix k dropped and the r changed to l. [49] Linguistic Survey, vol. III. part iii., p. 118. [50] Southern Chin, as will be seen from the word-lists which follow, agrees in this respect with Mikir against Lushei, Meithei, and other Kuki-Chin languages. [51] The only exception in Angami is r, in which a few words end. [52] This seems to make it improbable that, as suggested on p. 109, chui in var-chui and nim-chui (to throw into water, to drown) is connected with the Tibetan chhu. [53] The Chin words are taken from Mr. B. Houghton's Essay on the Language of the Southern Chins and its Affinities (Rangoon, 1892). In transcribing them h has been substituted for ` to indicate the aspirate, but the spelling has not been otherwise varied. The Lushei words are from Messrs. Lorrain and Savidge's Grammar and Dictionary of the Lushai Language (Dulien dialect) (Shillong, 1898); here too the spelling of the original has been retained. [54] In Mikir this root is perhaps found in pi-nu, mother's sister, nimso, a virgin, and chai-nòng, cow. Chai-nòng is now used for both sexes, but the cognate languages point to chai (for chal) being the original word for the bovine species. [55] A final mute italicised in Lushei words indicates that it is formed with the vocal organs, but not pronounced. [56] Sa in Lushei means animal, and we see that the prefix te- (in teke, tiger), thi- (in thi-jòk, deer), or thòk- (in thòk-vàm, bear) has the same meaning in Mikir. [57] So called from the figure of a butterfly (pli-pli) on the cover. End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Mikirs, by Edward Stack *** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 48706 ***