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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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