Edgar Thurston

Tabelu (tortoise).—A sept of Aiyarakulu, and section of Gazula Kapu and Koppala Velama.

Taccha Kurup.—Barbers who shave Malabar Kammalans.

Tacchan.—The name of the carpenter sub-division of Kammalans, and further returned, at the census, 1891, as an occupational sub-division by some Paraiyans. Taccha Karaiyan has been recorded as a name for some members of the Karaiyan fishing caste. The Tacchasastram, or science of carpentry, prescribes in minute details the rules of construction.

Tacchanadan Muppan.—Recorded, in the Madras Census Reports, 1891 and 1901, as a sub-division of Kuricchans, and of Kurumbas of the Nilgiris.

Tadan.—See Dasari.

Tagara.—A section of Poroja.

Takru.—A class of Muhammadan pilots and sailors in the Laccadive islands. (See Mappilla.)

Talaivan (a chief).—A title of the Maravans. Jadi or Jati Talaivan is the name of the hereditary chief of the Paravas of Tinnevelly, who, at times of pearl fisheries, receives a fixed share of the ‘oysters.’

Talamala.—A sub-division of Kanikar.

Talayari.—The Talayari (talai, head) or chief watchman, or Uddari (saviour of the village), is a kind of undepartmental village policeman, who is generally known as the Talari. Among other duties, he has to follow on the track of stolen cattle, to act as a guard over persons confined in the village choultry (lock-up), to attend upon the head of the village during the trial of petty cases, to serve processes, and distrain goods. In big villages there are two or three Talayaris, in which case one is a Paraiyan, who officiates in the Paraiya quarter. In parts of the Telugu country, the Mutrachas, who are the village watchmen, are known as Talarivallu, or watchman people, and, in like manner, the Bedars are called Talarivandlu in the Kurnool and Bellary districts.

It is noted, in the Gazetteer of the Tanjore district (1906), that “from the earliest years of the British occupation of the country, fees were paid to the talaiyari or village watchman. He was probably survival of a state of society in which kavalgars did not exist, and his duties were, it seems, to look after the villagers’ fields and threshing floors. At any rate, he continued in existence even after the abolition of the kaval system (see Maravan), and was declared by the early Police Regulation (XI of 1816) to be part of the regular police establishment. Practically he did little real police duty, and in 1860, when the mufassal police was reorganised, all claims to the services of the talaiyari as a servant of the State were formally abandoned, the Inspector-General of Police having reported that any attempt to utilise the talaiyari body would be fruitless and unpopular. Talaiyaris still continue to be employed and paid by the ryots (cultivators) as the private guardians of their crops and harvested grain. Recently, however, the district was brought into line with the rest of the Presidency by the creation of a new force of talaiyaris, who now perform the police duties assigned to such persons elsewhere. They are provided with lathis (sticks) and badges, and are a useful auxiliary to the police.”

Tali.—“The tali,” Bishop Caldwell writes,1 “is the Hindu sign of marriage, answering to the ring of European christendom. I have known a clergyman refuse to perform a marriage with a tali, and insist upon a ring being used instead. A little consideration will show that the scrupulous conscience can find no rest for itself even in the ring; for, if the ring is more Christian than the tali, it is only because its use among Christians is more ancient. Every one knows that the ring has a Pagan origin, and that, for this reason, it is rejected by Quakers.” “The custom,” Wagner informs us,2 “of wearing the wedding ring on the fourth finger of the left hand had unquestionably a Pagan origin. Both the Greeks and the Romans called the fourth left-hand finger the medicated finger, and used it to stir up mixtures and potions, out of the belief that it contained a vein, which communicated directly with the heart, and therefore nothing noxious could come in contact with it, without giving instant warning to that vital organ.”

The marriage badge, as it occurs in Southern India, is, broadly speaking, of two types. The one in use among the Tamil castes is oblong in shape, with a single or double indentation at the base, and rounded at the top. The corresponding bottu or sathamanam of the Telugu and Canarese castes is a flat or cup-shaped disc. The tali in use among various Malayalam castes at the tali-kettu ceremony is a long cylinder.

Tali-kettu kalyanam (tali-tying marriage).—A ceremony gone through by Nayar girls, and girls of some other Malayalam castes, in childhood. Of those who gave evidence before the Malabar Marriage Commission, some thought the tali-kettu was a marriage, some not. Others called it a mock marriage, a formal marriage, a sham marriage, fictitious marriage, a marriage sacrament, the preliminary part of marriage, a meaningless ceremony, an empty form, a ridiculous farce, an incongruous custom, a waste of money, and a device for becoming involved in debt. “While,” the Report states, “a small minority of strict conservatives still maintain that the tali-kettu is a real marriage intended to confer on the bridegroom a right to cohabit with the bride, an immense majority describe it as a fictitious marriage, the origin of which they are at a loss to explain. And another large section tender the explanation accepted by our President (Sir T. Muttusami Aiyar), that in some way or other it is an essential caste observance preliminary to the formation of sexual relations.” In summing up the evidence collected by him, Mr. Lewis Moore states3 that it seems to be proved beyond all reasonable doubt that “from the sixteenth century at all events, and up to the early portion of the nineteenth century, the relations between the sexes in families governed by marumakkathayam (inheritance in the female line) were of as loose a description as it is possible to imagine. The tali-kettu kalyanam, brought about by the Brahmans, brought about no improvement, and indeed, in all probability, made matters much worse by giving a quasi-religious sanction to a fictitious marriage, which bears an unpleasant resemblance to the sham marriage ceremonies performed among certain inferior castes elsewhere as a cloak for prostitution (see Deva-dasi). As years passed, some time about the opening of the nineteenth century, the Kerala mahatmyam and Keralolpathi were concocted, probably by Nambudris, and false and pernicious doctrines as to the obligations laid on the Nayars by divine law to administer to the lust of the Nambudris were disseminated abroad. The better classes among the Nayars revolted against the degrading system thus established, and a custom sprang up, especially in North Malabar, of making sambandham a more or less formal contract, approved and sanctioned by the Karnavan (senior male) of the tarwad4 to which the lady belonged, and celebrated with elaborate ceremony under the pudamuri (female cloth cutting) form. That there was nothing analogous to the pudamuri prevalent in Malabar from A.D. 1500 to 1800 may, I think, be fairly presumed from the absence of all allusion to it in the works of the various European writers.” According to Act IV, Madras, 1896, sambandham means an alliance between a man and woman, by reason of which they, in accordance with the custom of the community to which they belong, or either of them belongs, cohabit or intend to cohabit as husband and wife.

Tambala.—The Tambalas are summed up, in the Madras Census Report, 1901, as “Telugu-speaking temple priests. Their social position differs in different localities. They are regarded as Brahmans in Godavari, Kistna and Nellore, and as Sudras in the other Telugu districts.” It is noted, in the Census Report, that the Tambalas are described by C. P. Brown as a class of beggars, who worship Siva, and who beat drums; secular priests, etc. These men are generally Sudras, but wear the sacred thread. “It is said that, during his peregrinations in the north, Sankaracharya appointed Tamil Brahmans to perform temple services in all the Saiva shrines. Hence the Telugu people, in the midst of whom the Tamilians lived, called them the Tambalas (Tamils). They are not now, however, regarded as Brahmans, whatever their original position may have been. They will eat only with Brahmans. Most of them are Saivites, and a few are Lingayats. The Smarta Brahmans officiate as their priests at birth, marriage, and death ceremonies. They do not eat animal food, and all their religious rites are more or less like those of Brahmans. Their usual titles are Aiya and Appa.”

Tamban.—One of the divisions of Kshatriyas in Travancore. (See Tirumalpad.)

Tambi (younger brother).—A term of affection in the Tamil country, used especially when a younger person is being addressed. It is also recorded as an honorific title of Nayars in Travancore, and a suffix to the names of Nayar sons of Travancore sovereigns.

Tambiran.—The name for Pandaram managers of temples, e.g., at Tiruvadudurai in Tanjore and Mailam in South Arcot.

Tamburan.—For the following note on the Rajahs or Tamburans, I am indebted to the Travancore Census Report, 1901. “They form an endogamous community of Kshatriyas, and live as seven families in Travancore. They are distinguished by the localities in which they reside, viz., Mavelikkara, Ennaikkat, Kartikapalli, Mariappalli, Tiruvalla, Praikkara, and Aranmula. They are all related by blood, the connection between some of them being very close. Like the Koiltampurans, all the members of their community observe birth and death pollution with reference to each other. Their original home is Kolattunat in North Malabar, and their immigration into Travancore, where the reigning family is of the Kolattunat stock, was contemporaneous, in the main, with the invasion of Malabar by Tippu Sultan. The first family that came into the country from Kolattunat was the Putuppalli Kovilakam in the 5th century M.E. (Malabar era). The Travancore royal family then stood in need of adoption. The then Rajah arranged through a Koiltampuran of Tattarikkovilakam to bring from Kolattunat two princesses for adoption, as his negotiations with the then Kolattiri were fruitless. The Puttuppali Kovilakam members thus settled themselves at Kartikapalli, the last of whom died in 1030 M.E. The next family that migrated was Cheriyakovilakam, between 920 and 930 M.E. They also came for adoption. But their right was disputed by another house, Pallikkovilakam. They then settled themselves at Aranmula. The third series of migrations were during the invasion of Malabar by Tippu in 964 M.E. All the Rajahs living there at the time came over to Travancore, of whom, however, many returned home after a time.

The Rajahs, like the Koiltampurans, belong to the Yajurveda section of Dvijas, but follow the sutra laid down by Baudhayana. Their gotra is that of Bhargava, i.e., Parasurama, indicating in a manner that these are Kshatriyas who were accepted by Parasurama, the uncompromising Brahmin of the Hindu Puranas. They have all the Brahminical Samskaras, only the Brahmin priest does most of them on their behalf. Chaulam, or tuft ceremony, is performed along with Upanayanam. The Samavartanam, or termination of the pupil stage, is celebrated on the fourth day of the thread investiture. Instruction in arms is then given to the Kshatriya boy, and is supposed to be kept up until the requisite skill has been obtained. The tali-tying (mangalya dharanam or pallikkettu of a Raja lady) is done by a Koiltampuran, who thereafter lives with her as her married husband. The Kanyakadanam, or giving away of the bride, is performed by the priest who attends also to the other Sastraic rites. The males take Sudra consorts. If the first husband leaves by death or otherwise, another Koiltampuran may be accepted. This is not called marriage, but kuttirikkuka (living together).

At Sradhas (memorial services), the Karta, or performer of the ceremony, throws a flower as a mark of spiritual homage at the feet of the Brahmins who are invited to represent the manes, and greets them in the conventional form (namaskara). The priest does the other ceremonies. After the invited Brahmins have been duly entertained, oblations of cooked rice are offered to the ancestors by the Karta himself.

They are to repeat the Gayatri ten times at each Sandhya prayer, together with the Panchakshara and the Ashtakshara mantras.

Their caste government is in the hands of the Nambutiri Vaidikas. Their family priests belong to the class of Malayala Pottis, known as Tiruveli Pottis.

Besides the ordinary names prevalent among Koiltampurans, names such as Martanda Varma, Aditya Varma, and Udaya Varma are also met with. Pet names, such as Kungaru, Kungappan, Kungoman, Kungunni, Unni and Ampu are common. In the Travancore Royal House, the first female member always takes the name of Lakshmi and the second that of Parvati.

Tamoli.—A few members of this North India caste of betel-leaf sellers have been returned at times of census. I am unable to discover in what district they occur. Tambuli or Tamuli is recorded as a caste of betel-leaf sellers in Bengal, and Tamboli as a caste carrying on a similar occupation in the Bombay Presidency.

Tanamanadu.—A sub-division of Valaiyan.

Tanda.—The word literally refers to a settlement or encampment of the Lambadis, by some of whom it is, at times of census, returned as a tribal synonym.

Tandan.—It is recorded, in the Madras Census Report, 1891, that “in Walluvanad and Palghat (in Malabar) Tandan is a distinct caste. The ceremonies observed by Tandans are, in general outline, the same as those of the southern Tiyyans, but the two do not intermarry, each claiming superiority over the other. There is a custom which prohibits the Tandan females of Walluvanad from crossing a channel which separates that taluk from Mankara on the Palghat side.” The Tandans of Malabar are described by Mr. F. Fawcett as a people allied to the Izhuvans, who observe the custom of fraternal polyandry, which the Izhuvans abhor.

For the following note on the Tandans of Travancore, I am indebted to Mr. N. Subramani Aiyar.

The castemen are known as Uralis to the south of Varkallay, and Tandans to the north of it. In some places to the east of Kottarakaray, they were popularly termed Mutalpattukar, or those who receive the first perquisite for assistance rendered to carpenters. In the days when there were no saws, the rough instruments of the Tandan served their purpose. Hence some members of the caste were called Tacchan (carpenter). Tandan is derived from the Sanskrit dandanam or punishment, as, in ancient times, men of this caste were employed to carry out the punishments that were inflicted by the authorities upon offenders. For the execution of such punishments, the Tandans were provided with swords, choppers and knives. As they were also told off to guard the villages (ur) of which they happened to be inhabitants, they acquired the title of Urali. In some places, Tandans are also called Velans. Males and females have respectively the title Muppan and Muppatti, meaning an elder. In addressing members of higher castes, the Tandans call themselves Kuzhiyan, or dwellers in pits.

The Tandans are said to have once belonged to the same caste as the Izhuvans, but to have fallen away from that position. They must, in times gone by, have joined the military service of the various States in Malabar. They were, in some places, given rent-free lands, called Urali parambu, in return for the duties they were expected to perform. With the return of peaceful times, their occupation changed, and the climbing of palm trees, to extract the juice thereof, became their most important calling. They are also largely engaged in the manufacture of ropes. Many families still receive the mutalpattu, or allowance from the carpenters.

The Tandans are divided into four endogamous sections, called Ilanji, Puvar, Irunelli, and Pilakkuti.

The ornaments of the women are, besides the minnu, wreaths of red and red and black beads. Nowadays the gold gnattu of the Nayars is also worn. Tattooing is popular. Even males have a crescent and a dot tattooed on the forehead, the corresponding mark in females being a line from the nasal pit upwards. Among the devices tattooed on the arms are the conch shell, lotus, snake, discus, etc. In their food and drink the Tandans resemble the Iluvans.

The priests of the Tandans are called Tanda Kuruppus, and they are also the caste barbers. The chief deity of the Tandans is Bhadrakali, at whose shrines at Mandaikkad, Cranganore, and Sarkkaray, offerings are regularly made. At the last place, a Tandan is the priest. The chief days for the worship of this deity are Bharani asterism in March and Pattamudayam in April. November is a particularly religious month, and the day on which the Kartikay star falls is exclusively devoted to worship. The first Sunday in January is another religious occasion, and on that day cooked food is offered to the rising sun. This is called Pogala. Maruta, or the spirit of smallpox, receives special worship. If a member of the caste dies of this disease, a small shed is erected in his memory either at his home or near the local Bhadrakali shrine, and offerings of sweetmeats and toddy are made to him on the 28th of Makaram (January-February). Chitragupta, the accountant of Yama, the god of death, is worshipped on the full-moon day in April-May. Ancestor worship is performed on the new-moon day in July.

A girl’s tali-tying ceremony, which is called kazhuttukettu, takes place when she is between seven and twelve years old. The bridegroom is a relative called Machchampi. The Kuruppu receives a money present of 2½ fanams for every tali tied in his presence. Though more than one girl may go through the ceremony in the same pandal (booth), each should have a separate bridegroom. The relations between the bride and bridegroom are dissolved by the father of the former paying the latter sixteen rasi fanams. The daughter of a man’s paternal aunt or maternal uncle may be claimed as murappen or lawful bride. The sambandham, or actual marriage, takes place after a girl has reached puberty. A family is regarded as out-caste, if she has not previously gone through the tali-tying ceremony.

Only the eldest member of a family is cremated, the rest being buried. Death pollution lasts for ten days. The anniversary of a death is celebrated at the sea-shore, where cooked food, mixed with gingelly (Sesamum) is offered to the departed, and thrown into the sea.

Tandan.—The Tandan is the hereditary headman of a Tiyan tara (village), and is a Tiyan by caste. He is appointed by the senior Rani of the Zamorin’s family, or by some local Raja in territories outside the jurisdiction of the Zamorin. The Tandan is the principal person in the decision of caste disputes. He is expected to assist at the tali-tying, puberty, marriage and pregnancy ceremonies of members of the caste. His formal permission is required before the carpenter can cut down the areca palm, with which the shed in which the tali is tied is constructed. In cases of divorce, his functions are important. When a new house is built, a house-warming ceremony takes place, at which the Tandan officiates. Fowls are sacrificed, and the right leg is the Tandan’s perquisite. He is a man of importance, not only in many affairs within his own caste, but also in those of other castes. Thus, when a Nayar dies, it is the Tandan’s duty to get the body burnt. He controls the washerman and barber of the tara, and can withdraw their services when they are most needed. He officiates, moreover, at marriages of the artisan classes.

Tangalan.—A sub-division of Paraiyan. The word indicates one who may not stand near, in reference to their belonging to the polluting classes.

Tangedu.—Tangedu or Tangedla (Cassia auriculata) has been recorded as an exogamous sept of Kapu and Padma Sale. The bark of this shrub is one of the most valuable Indian tanning agents, and is, like myrabolams (Terminalia fruits), used in the manufacture of indigenous dyes.

Tantuvayan (thread-wearer).—An occupational name used by various weaving castes.

Tapodhanlu.—The name, meaning those who believe in self-mortification as wealth, adopted by some Telugu mendicants.

Tarakan.—See Muttan.

Tartharol.—The name, recorded by Dr. W. H. R. Rivers,5 of a division of the Todas. Tartal is also given by various writers as a division of this tribe.

Tarwad.—Defined by Mr. Wigram6 as a marumakkathayam family, consisting of all the descendants in the female line of one common female ancestor.

Tassan.—A Malayalam synonym for the Telugu Dasari.

Tattan.—The goldsmith section of the Tamil and Malayalam Kammalans.

Teivaliol.—The name, recorded by Dr. W. H. R. Rivers,5 of a division of the Todas.

Telaga.—“The Telagas,” Mr. H. A. Stuart writes,7 “are a Telugu caste of cultivators, who were formerly soldiers in the armies of the Hindu sovereigns of Telingana. This may perhaps account for the name, for it is easy to see that the Telugu soldiers might come to be regarded as the Telugus or Telagas par excellence. The sub-divisions returned under this name show that there has been some confusion between the Telagas proper, and persons who are members of other Telugu castes. The Telagas are Vaishnavites, and have Brahmans for their priests. Their customs closely resemble those of the Kapus. They eat flesh, but are not allowed to drink liquor. They are usually farmers now, but many still serve as soldiers, though their further recruitment has recently been stopped. Their common titles are Naidu and Dora.”

In a note on the Telagas and Vantaris (strong men), it is suggested that they should be classed with the Kapus, of which caste they are an offshoot for the following reasons:—”(1) Members of the three classes admit that this is so; (2) a collation of the intiperulu or septs shows that the same names recur among the three classes; (3) all three interdine, and intermarriage between them is not rare. A poor Telaga or Vantari often gives his daughter in marriage to a rich Kapu. The Telagas and Vantaris are highly Brahmanised, and will have a Brahman for their guru, and get themselves branded at his hands. A Kapu is generally content with a Satani or Jangam. Though they do not differ in their marriage and funeral rites from the Kapus, they usually marry their girls before puberty, and widow remarriage and divorce are disallowed. A Kapu is invariably a cultivator; a Vantari was in olden days a sepoy, and, as such, owned inam (rent-free) lands. Even now he has a prejudice against ploughing jirayati (ordinarily assessed) lands, which a Kapu has no objection to do. Similarly, a Telaga takes pride in taking service under a Zamindar, but, unlike the Vantari, he will plough any land. Kapu women will fetch their own water, and carry meals to the fields for their fathers and husbands. The women of the other classes affect the gosha system, and the men carry their own food, and fetch water for domestic purposes, or, if well-to-do, employ Kapus for these services. It may be added that rich Kapus often exhibit a tendency to pass as Telagas.”

Telikula.—The Telikulas are summed up, in the Madras Census Report, 1901, as “a Telugu oil-presser caste, which should not be confused with Tellakula, a synonym for Tsakala, or with Telli, a caste of Oriya oil-pressers.” Telikula is a synonym for the Ganiga or Gandla caste of oil-pressers, derived from the oil (gingelly: Sesamum indicum), whereas the names Ganiga and Gandla refer to the oil-mill. In the Northern Circars, the name Telikula is used in preference to Ganiga or Gandla, and the oil-pressers in that part of the country are known as Telikula-vandlu. The Telikulas are Onteddu, i.e., use a single bullock for working the oil-mill, whereas, among the Ganigas, there are both Onteddu and Rendeddu sections, which employ one and two bullocks respectively.

Tellakula (white clan).—Recorded, in the Census Report, 1901, as a synonym for Tsakala. According to the Rev. J. Cain,8 the Tellakulas are Telugu washermen (Tsakalas), who, in consequence of having obtained employment as peons in Government offices, feel themselves to be superior to other members of their caste.

Telli.—The Tellis are the oil-pressers of the Oriya country, whose caste name is derived from telo, oil. They are apparently divided into three endogamous sections, named Holodia, Bolodia, and Khadi. The original occupation of the Holodias is said to have been the cultivation and sale of turmeric. They may not carry turmeric and other articles for sale on the back of bullocks, and consequently use carts as a medium of transport thereof. And it is further contrary to their caste rules even to assist in loading or unloading packs carried by bullocks. The Bolodias receive their name from the fact that they carry produce in the form of oil-seeds, etc., on pack bullocks, bolodo being Oriya for bullock. The Khadis are mainly engaged in expressing various oils in oil-mills, and this occupation is also carried on by some members of the other sections. All Tellis seem to belong to one gotra, called Karthikeswara. The caste title is Sahu. In social position the Tellis, unlike the Tamil Vaniyans (oil-pressers), are on a par with the agricultural castes, and are one of the panchapatako, or five castes from which individuals are selected to decide serious issues which arise among the Badhoyis. The headman of the Tellis is called Behara, and he is assisted by a Bhollobaya, and in some places apparently by another officer called Pento.

It is considered by the Tellis as a breach of caste rules to sail in a boat or ship. If a cow dies with a rope round its neck, or on the spot where it is tethered, the family which owned it is under pollution until purification has been effected by means of a pilgrimage, or by bathing in a sacred river. The Holodias will not rear male calves at their houses, and do not castrate their bulls. Male calves are disposed of by sale as speedily as possible. Those Holodias who are illiterate make the mark (nisani) of a ball of turmeric paste as a substitute for their autograph on documents. In like manner, the nisanis of the Bolodias and Khadis respectively are the leather belt of a bullock and curved pole of the oil-mill. Among nisanis used by other Oriya castes, the following may be noted:—

• Korono (writer caste), style.
• Ravulo (temple servants), trident.
• Bavuri (basket-makers and earth-diggers), sickle.
• Dhoba (washermen) fork used for collecting firewood.
• Brahman, ring of dharba grass, such as is worn on ceremonial occasions.

In their marriage ceremonies, the Tellis observe the standard Oriya type, with a few variations. On the day before the wedding, two young married women carry two new pots painted white on their heads. To support the pots thereon, a single cloth, with the two ends rolled up to form a head-pad, must be used. The two women, accompanied by another married woman carrying a new winnowing basket, and mokkuto (forehead chaplet), proceed, to the accompaniment of the music of a chank shell and pipes, to a temple, whereat they worship. On their way home, the two girls, according to the custom of other Oriyas castes, go to seven houses, at each of which water is poured into their pots. During the marriage ceremony, after the ends of the cloths of the bride and bridegroom have been tied together, they exchange myrabolams (Terminalia fruits) and areca nuts. Until the close of the ceremonies, they may not plunge into a tank (pond) or river, and, in bathing, may not wet the head.

Most of the Tellis are Paramarthos, and follow the Chaitanya form of Vaishnavism, but some are Smartas, and all worship Takuranis (village deities).

Telugu.—Telugu or Telaga is used as a linguistic term indicating a person who speaks that language. It has, at recent times of census, been returned as a sub-division of various classes, e.g., Agasa, Balija, Banajiga, Bedar, Bestha, Devanga, Holeya, Kumbara, Rachewar, Tsakala, and Uppara. Further, Telugu Vellala appears as a synonym of Velama, and Telugu Chetti as a synonym of Saluppan.

Ten (honey).—Ten or Jen has been recorded as a sub-division or exogamous sept of jungle Kurumbas and Holeyas. Some Irulas style themselves Ten Padaiyachi or Ten Vanniyan, Padaiyachi and Vanniyan being a title and synonym of the Pallis.

Tendisai (southern country).—Recorded as a division of Vellalas in the Madura and Coimbatore districts.

Tene (millet: Setaria italica).—An exogamous sept of Holeya.

Tengina (cocoanut palm).—The name of a section of Halepaiks, who tap the cocoanut for extracting toddy.

Tennam.—Tennam (cocoanut) or Tennanjanar (cocoanut tappers) is recorded as the occupational name of Shanan. Tenkayala (cocoanut) occurs as an exogamous sept of Yanadi, and the equivalent Tennang as a tree or kothu of Kondaiyamkotti Maravans.

Tennilainadu.—A territorial sub-division of Kallan.

Terkattiyar (southerner).—A term applied to Kallan, Maravan, Agamudaiyan, and other immigrants into the Tanjore district. At Mayavaram, for example, it is applied to Kallans, Agamudaiyans, and Valaiyans.

Tertal.—A division of Toda.

Teruvan.—A synonym of the Malabar Chaliyans, who are so called because, unlike most of the west coast castes, they live in streets (teru).

Tevadiyal (servant of god).—The Tamil name for Deva-dasis. Tevan (god) occurs as a title of Maravans.

Teyyambadi.—A section of Ambalavasis or temple servants in Malabar, the members of which dance and sing in Bhagavati temples, and perform a song called nagapattu (song in honour of serpents) in private houses, which is supposed to be effective in procuring offspring.9

Thadla.—Thadla or Thalla, meaning rope, is an exogamous sept of Devanga and Karna Sale.

Thakur.—About a hundred members of this caste are returned, in the Madras Census Report, 1901, as belonging to a Bombay caste of genealogists and cultivators. It is recorded, in the Bombay Gazetteer, that “inferior in rank to Marathas, the Thakurs are idle and of unclean habits. Though some of them till and twist woollen threads for blankets, they live chiefly by begging and ballad singing. At times they perform plays representing events mentioned in the Purans and Ramayan, and showing wooden puppets moved by strings.”

Thalakokala (female cloths).—An exogamous sept of Devanga.

Thalam (palmyra palm).—An exogamous sept or illam of Kanikar.

Thamballa (sword bean: Canavalia ensiformis).—An exogamous sept of Tsakalas, members of which will not eat the bean.

Thamburi.—A class of people in Mysore, who are Muhammadans, dress like Lambadis, but do not intermarry with them. (See Lambadi.)

Thanda Pulayan.—For the following note, I am indebted to Mr. L. K. Ananthakrishna Aiyar.10 The Thanda Pulayans constitute a small division of the Pulayans, who dwell in South Malabar and Cochin. The name is given to them because of the garment worn by the females, made of the leaves of a sedge, called thanda (apparently Scirpus articulatus), which are cut into lengths, woven at one end, and tied round the waist so that they hang down below the knees. The following story is told with regard to the origin of this costume. A certain high-caste man, who owned lands in those parts, chanced to sow seeds, and plant vegetables. He was surprised to find that not a trace of what he sowed or planted was to be seen on the following day. With a view to clearing up the mystery, he kept a close watch during the night, and saw certain human beings, stark naked, come out of a hole. They were pursued, and a man and a woman were caught. Impressed with a sense of shame at their wretched condition, the high-caste man threw his upper garment to the male, but, having nothing to give as a covering for the woman, threw some thanda leaves over her. The Thanda Pulayans are also called Kuzhi Pulayans, as they were found emerging from a pit (kuzhi). The leafy garment is said to be fast going out of fashion, as Mappillas, and others who own the Pulayans, compel them to wear cotton cloths. According to the Rev. W. J. Richards, a division of the Pulayans, who are called Kanna Pulayans, and found near Alleppey, wear rather better, and more artistically made aprons.11

The following legend is current regarding the origin of the Thanda Pulayans. In the south, the Pulayans are divided into the eastern and western sections. The former were the slaves of Duryodhana, and the latter were attached to the Pandus. These formed the two rival parties in the war of the Mahabaratha, and the defeat of Duryodhana was the cause of their degradation.

The Thanda Pulayans appear to have been the slaves of the soil till 1854, when they were emancipated. Even now, their condition has not undergone much material improvement. Though they are left more to themselves, they still work for farmers or landlords for a daily wage of paddy (unhusked rice). If they run away, they are brought back, and punished. There is a custom that, when a farmer or landlord wants a few Pulayans to work in the fields, he obtains their services on payment of fifteen to twenty rupees to them, or to their master. When a Pulayan’s services are thus obtained, he works for his new master for two edangalis of paddy a day. They can obtain their liberation on the return of the purchase-money, which they can never hope to earn. Having no property which they can claim as their own, and conscious perhaps that their lot will be the same wherever they go, they remain cheerful and contented, drudging on from day to day, and have no inclination to emigrate to places where they can get higher wages. The Cherumars of Palghat, on the contrary, enjoy more freedom. Many go to the Wynad, and some to the Kolar gold-fields, where they receive a good money-wage. The Thanda Pulayans work, as has been said, for some landlord, who allows them small bits of land. The trees thereon belong to the master, but they are allowed to enjoy their produce during their residence there. When not required by the master, they can work where they like. They have to work for him for six months, and sometimes throughout the year. They have little to do after the crop has been garnered. They work in the rice-fields, pumping water, erecting bunds (mud embankments), weeding, transplanting, and reaping. Men, women, and children may be seen working together. After a day’s hard work, in the sun or rain, they receive their wages, which they take to the nearest shop, called mattupitica (exchange shop), where they receive salt, chillies, etc., in exchange for a portion of the paddy, of which the remainder is cooked. The master’s field must be guarded at night against the encroachment of cattle, and the depredations of thieves and wild beasts. They keep awake by shouting aloud, singing in a dull monotone, or beating a drum. Given a drink of toddy, the Pulayans will work for any length of time. It is not uncommon to see them thrashed for slight offences. If a man is thrashed with a thanda garment, he is so much disgraced in the eyes of his fellow men, that he is not admitted into their society. Some improve their condition by becoming converts to Christianity. Others believe that the spirits of the departed would be displeased, if they became Christians.

The Thanda Pulayan community is divided into exogamous illams, and marriage between members of the same illam is forbidden. Their habitations are called matams, which are miserable huts, supported on wooden posts, sometimes in the middle of a paddy field, with walls of reeds, bamboo mats or mud, and thatched with grass or cocoanut leaves. A few earthen pots, bamboo vessels, and cocoanut shells constitute their property. They are denied admission to the markets, and must stand at a distance to make their purchases or sales.

Pulayan girls are married either before or after attaining puberty, but there is special ceremony, which is performed for every girl during her seventh or eighth year. This is called thanda kalyanam, or thanda marriage. It consists in having the girl dressed at an auspicious hour in the leafy garment by a woman, generally a relative, or, in her absence, by one selected for the purpose. The relations and friends are entertained at a feast of curry and rice, fish from the backwater, and toddy. Prior to this ceremony, the girl is destitute of clothing, except for a strip of areca bark.

At the marriage ceremony, the tali (marriage badge) is made of a piece of a conch shell (Turbinella rapa), which is tied on the bride’s neck at an auspicious hour. She is taken before her landlord, who gives her some paddy, and all the cocoanuts on the tree, beneath which she happens to kneel. When the time has come for her to be taken to the hut of the bridegroom, one of her uncles, taking her by the hand, gives her into the charge of one of her husband’s uncles. On the third morning, her paternal and maternal uncles visit her at the hut of the bridegroom, by whom they are entertained. They then return, with the bride and bridegroom, to the home of the former, where the newly-married couple stay for three days. To ascertain whether a marriage will be a happy one, a conch shell is spun round. If it falls to the north, it predicts good fortune; if to the east or west, the omens are favourable; if to the south, very unfavourable.

The Thanda Pulayans follow the makkathayam law of inheritance (from father to son). They have their tribal assemblies, the members of which meet together on important occasions, as when a woman is charged with adultery, or when there is a theft case among them. All the members are more or less of equal status, and no superior is recognised. They swear by the sun, raising their hands, and saying “By the sun I did not.” Other oaths are “May my eyes perish” or “May my head be cut off by lightning.”

Every kind of sickness is attributed to the influence of some demon, with whom a magician can communicate, and discover a means of liberation. The magician, when called in professionally, lights a fire, and seats himself beside it. He then sings, mutters some mantrams (prayers), and makes a discordant noise on his iron plate (kokkara). The man or woman, who is possessed by the demon, begins to make unconscious movements, and is made to speak the truth. The demon, receiving offerings of fowls, sheep, etc., sets him or her free. A form of ceremonial, called urasikotukkuka, is sometimes performed. At a place far distant from the hut, a leaf, on which the blood of a fowl has been made to fall, is spread on the ground. On a smaller leaf, chunam (lime) and turmeric are placed. The person who first sets eyes on these becomes possessed by the demon, and sets free the individual who was previously under its influence. In the event of sickness, the sorcerer is invited to the hut. He arrives in the evening, and is entertained with food, toddy, and betel. He then takes a tender cocoanut, flower of the areca palm, and some powdered rice, which he covers over with a palm leaf. The sick person is placed in front thereof, and a circle is drawn round him. Outside the circle, an iron stylus is stuck in the ground. The demon is supposed to be confined within the circle, and makes the patient cry out “I am in pai (influence of the ghost) and he is beating me,” etc. With the promise of a fowl or sheep, or offerings thereof on the spot, the demon is persuaded to take its departure. Sometimes, when the sorcerer visits a house of sickness, a rice-pan containing three betel leaves, areca nuts, paddy, tulsi (Ocimum sanctum), sacred ashes, conch and cowry (CyprÆa moneta) shells, is placed in the yard. The sorcerer sits in front of the pan, and begins to worship the demon, holding the shells in his hands, and turning to the four points of the compass. He then observes the omens, and, taking his iron plate, strikes it, while he chants the names of terrible demons, Mullva, Karinkali, Aiyinar, and Villi, and utters incantations. This is varied by dancing, to the music of the iron plate, sometimes from evening till noon on the following day. The sick person works himself up into the belief that he has committed some great sin, and proceeds to make confession, when a small money fine is inflicted, which is spent on toddy for those who are assembled. The Thanda Pulayans practice maranakriyas, or sacrifices to certain demons, to help them in bringing about the death of an enemy or other person. Sometimes affliction is supposed to be brought about by the enmity of those who have got incantations written on a palm leaf, and buried in the ground near a house by the side of a well. A sorcerer is called in to counteract the evil charm, which he digs up, and destroys.

Thanda Palayan.

Thanda Palayan.

When a member of the tribe has died an unnatural death, a man, with a fowl and sword in his hands, places another man in a pit which has been dug, and walks thrice round it with a torch. After an hour or two, the man is taken out of the pit, and goes to a distance, where certain ceremonies are performed.

The Thanda Pulayans worship the gods of Brahmanical temples at a distance of nearly a quarter of a mile. A stone is set up in the ground, on which they place tender cocoanuts and a few puttans (Cochin coins). A temple servant takes these to the priest, who sends in return some sandal paste, holy water, and flowers. They worship, as has been already hinted, demons, and also the spirits of their ancestors, by which small brass figures of males and females representing the pretas (ghosts) are supposed to be possessed. They worship, among others, Kandakarnan, Kodunkali, Bhairavan, and Arukola pretas, who are lodged in small huts, and represented by stones. In the month of May, they celebrate a festival, which lasts for several days. Chrysanthemum and thumba (apparently Leucas aspera) flowers are used in the performance of worship, and paddy, beaten rice, tender cocoanuts, toddy, etc., are offered up. There is a good deal of singing, drum-beating and devil-dancing by men and women, who on this occasion indulge liberally in toddy. The Pandavas, whom they call Anju Thamburakkal, are favourite deities. They devise various plans for warding off the evil influence of demons. Some, for example, wear rolls of palm leaf, with incantations written on them, round their necks. Others hang baskets in the rice fields, containing peace offerings to the gods, and pray for the protection of the crop. Wherever there is a dense forest, Matan and Kali are supposed to dwell, and are worshipped. From the end of November to April, which is the slack season, the Thanda Pulayans go about dancing from hut to hut, and collecting money to purchase fowls, etc., for offerings. Club-dancing is their favourite amusement, and is often indulged in at night by the light of a blazing fire. The dancers, club in hand, go round in concentric circles, keeping time to the songs which they sing, striking each other’s clubs, now bending to ward off a blow on the legs, or rising to protect the head.

The dead are buried, and lighted torches are set up all round the grave, on to which the relations of the dead person throw three handfuls of rice. Near it, squares are made in rice flour, in each of which a leaf with rice flour and paddy, and a lighted torch or wick is placed. The chief mourner, who should be the son or nephew, carrying a pot of water, goes several times round the grave, and breaks the pot over the spot where the head rests. A few grains of rice are placed at the four corners of the grave, and a pebble is laid on it, with mantrams to keep off jackals, and to prevent the spirit from molesting people. Every morning the chief mourner goes to the grave, and makes offerings of boiled rice, gingelly (Sesamum indicum) seeds, and karuka grass. On the fourteenth day, he has an oil-bath, and, on the following day, the Pulayans of the village (kara) have a feast, with singing and beating of drums. On the sixteenth day, which is pulakuli or day of purification, the chief mourner makes offerings of rice balls, the guests are fed, and make a present of small coin to the songster who has entertained them. Similar offerings of rice balls are made to the spirit of the deceased person on the new-moon day in the month of Kartigam. During the period of pollution, the chief mourner has to cook his own food. The spirits of deceased ancestors are called Chavar (the dead), and are said to manifest themselves in dreams, especially to near relations, who speak in the morning of what they have seen during the night. They even say that they have held conversation with the deceased. The Rev. W. J. Richards informs us that he once saw “a little temple, about the size of a large rabbit-hutch, in which was a plank for the spirits of the deceased ancestors to come and rest upon. The spirits are supposed to fish in the backwaters, and the phosphorescence, sometimes seen on the surface of the water, is taken as an indication of their presence.”12

The Thanda Pulayans will not eat with the Ulladans or Parayans, but stand at a distance of ninety feet from Brahmans and other high-caste people. They are short of stature and dark-skinned. Like the Cherumans, the women adorn their ears, necks, arms and fingers with masses of cheap jewellery.

Thappata (drum).—An exogamous sept of Odde.

Thathan (a Vaishnavite mendicant).—The equivalent of the Telugu Dasari.

Thatichettu (palmyra palm).—An exogamous sept of Karna Sale and Odde.

Thavadadari.—The name of a section of the Valluvans (priests of the Paraiyans), who wear a necklace of tulsi beads (thavadam, necklace, dhari, wearer). The tulsi or basil (Ocimum sanctum) is a very sacred plant with Hindus, and bead necklaces or rosaries are made from its woody stem.

Thelu (scorpion).—Thelu and Thela are recorded as exogamous septs of Padma Sale and Madiga. The Canarese equivalent Chelu occurs as a sept of Kuruba.

Thenige Buvva.—A sub-division of Madigas, who offer food (buvva) to the god in a dish or tray (thenige) at marriages.

Thikka (simpleton).—A sub-division of Kuruba.

Thippa (rubbish heap).—An exogamous sept of Karna Sale.

Thogamalai Korava.—Recorded13 as a synonym of a thief class in the southern districts of the Madras Presidency. In a recent note on the Koravas, Mr. F. Fawcett writes that “a fact to be noted is that people such as the members of the well-known Thogamalai gang, who are always called Koravas by the police, are not Koravas at all. They are simply a criminal community, into which outsiders are admitted, who give their women in marriage outside the caste, and who adopt children of other castes.”

Thogaru (bitter).—An exogamous sept of Musu Kamma.

Thoka (tail).—An exogamous sept of Yerukala.

Thonda (Cephalendra indica).—An exogamous sept of Musu Kamma, and gotra of Janappans, members of which abstain from using the fruit or leaves of the thonda plant.

Thumma (babul: Acacia arabica).—An exogamous sept of Mala and Padma Sale. The bark, pods, and leaves of the babul tree are used by tanners in the preparation of hides and skins, or as a dye.

Thumu (iron measure for measuring grain).—An exogamous sept of Mutracha.

Thupa (ghi, clarified butter).—An exogamous sept of Kuruba.

Thurpu (eastern).—A sub-division of Yerukala and Yanadi.

Thuta (hole).—An exogamous sept of Devanga.

Tigala.—Tigala is summed up, in the Madras Census Report, 1901, as “a Canarese synonym for the Tamil Palli; applied also by the Canarese people to any Tamil Sudras of the lower castes.” In parts of the Mysore country, the Tamil language is called Tigalu, and the Canarese Madhva Brahmans speak of Tamil Smarta Brahmans as Tigalaru.

Some of the Tigalas, who have settled in Mysore, have forgotten their mother-tongue, and speak only Canarese, while others, e.g., those who live round about Bangalore, still speak Tamil. In their type of cranium they occupy a position intermediate between the dolichocephalic Pallis and the sub-brachy cephalic Canarese classes.

The difference in the type of cranium of the Tigalas and Tamil Pallis is clearly brought by the following tabular statements of their cephalic indices:—

a. Tigala—

b. Palli—

The Tigalas are kitchen and market gardeners, and cultivate the betel vine. They apparently have three divisions, called Ulli (garlic or onions), Ele (leaf), and Arava (Tamil). Among the Ulli Tigalas, several sub-divisions, and septs or budas named after deities or prominent members of the caste, exist, e.g.:—

• I. Lakkamma—
  • Tota devaru (garden god).
  • Dodda devaru (big or chief god).
  • Dodda Narasayya.
  • Dodda Nanjappa.
• II. Ellamma—
  • Narasayya.
  • Muddanna.
• III. Sidde devaru.

The Tigalas have a headman, whose office is hereditary, and who is assisted by a caste servant called Mudre. Council meetings are usually held at a fixed spot, called goni mara katte or mudre goni mara katte, because those summoned by the Mudre assemble beneath a goni (Ficus mysorensis) tree, round which a stone platform is erected. The tree and platform being sacred, no one may go there on wearing shoes or sandals. The members of council sit on a woollen blanket spread before the tree.

Like the Pallis or Vanniyans, the Tigalas call themselves Agni Vanni, and claim to be descended from the fire-born hero Agni Banniraya. In connection with the Tigalas who have settled in the Bombay Presidency, it is noted14 that “they are a branch of the Mysore Tigalas, who are Tamil Palli emigrants from the Madras Presidency, and, like the Palli, claim a Kshatriya origin.” The Tigalas possess a manuscript, said to be a copy of a sasana at Conjeeveram (Kanchi), from which the following extracts are taken. “This is a Kanchi sasana published by Aswaththa Narayanswami, who was induced to do so by the god Varadaraja of Conjeeveram. This sasana is written to acquaint the descendants of the Mahapurusha Agni Banniraya with the origin, doings, and gotra of their ancestor Banniraya. This Banniraya sprang from fire, and so is much beloved by Vishnu the many-armed, the many-eyed, and the bearer of the chank and chakram, and who is no other than Narayana, the lord of all the worlds great and small, and the originator of the Vedas and Vedanta.... All those who see or worship this sasana relating to Agni Banniraya, who obtained boons from the Trimurthis, Devatas, and Rishis, and who is the ancestor of the Tigalas, will be prosperous, and have plenty of grain and children. Those who speak lightly of this caste will become subject to the curses of Banniraya, Trimurthis, Rishis, and Devas. The glory of this sasana is great, and is as follows:—The keeping and worshipping of this purana will enable the Tigalas of the Karnataka country to obtain the merit of surapadavi (the state of Devas), merit of doing puja to a thousand lingams, a lakh of cow gifts, and a hundred kannikadanams (gifts of virgins for marriage).” The sasana is said to have been brought to the Canarese country because of a quarrel between the Pallis and the Tigalas at the time of a Tigala marriage. The Tigalas were prevented from bringing the various biruthus (insignia), and displaying them. The sasana was brought by the Tigalas, at an expenditure of Rs. 215, which sum was subsequently recovered from the Pallis.

Tigala occurs further as the name of a sub-division of Holeya.

Tikke (gem).—A gotra of Kurni.

Ti (fire) Kollan.—A sub-division of Kollan.

Tinda (polluting).—A sub-division of Kanisan. Tinda Kuruppu, meaning a teacher who cannot approach, is a synonym of the Kavutiyan barber caste.

Tiperum (ti, fire).—A sub-division of Kollan blacksmiths.

Tiragati Gantlavallu (wandering bell hunters).—Stated, in the Manual of the Vizagapatam district, to repair hand-mills, catch antelopes, and sell the skins thereof. In hunting, they use lights and bells.

Tirlasetti (the name of a Balija Chetti).—An exogamous sept of Yanadi.

Tirumalpad.—Tirumalpad has been summed up as “one of the four divisions of Kshatriyas in Travancore. The term, in its literal sense, conveys the idea of those who wait before kings. In mediÆval times the Tirumalpads were commanders of armies.” By Mr. Wigram15 Tirumalpad is defined as a member of a Royal Family. In the Madras Census Report, 1891, it is stated that “there are two Tirumalpads, one a Samanta, and the other a so-called Kshatriya. The former observes customs and manners exactly similar to Eradis and Nedungadis. In fact, these are all more or less interchangeable terms, members of the same family calling themselves indifferently Eradi or Tirumalpad. The Kshatriya Tirumalpad wears the sacred thread, and the rites he performs are similar to those of Brahmans, whose dress he has also adopted. He has, however, like Nayars, tali-kettu and sambandham separately. His females take Nambudiri consorts by preference, but may have husbands of their own caste. Their inheritance is in the female line, as among Nayars and Samantas. Generally the females of this caste furnish wives to Nambudiris. The touch of these females does not pollute a Nambudiri as does that of Nayars and Samantas, and, what is more, Nambudiris may eat their food. The females are called Nambashtadiri.”

For the following note on Tampans and Tirumalpads, I am indebted to the Travancore Census Report, 1901. “The Tampans and Tirumalpats come under the category of Malabar Kshatriyas.The word Tampan is a contraction of Tampuran, and at one time denoted a ruling people. When they were divested of that authority by the Ilayetattu Svarupam, they are said to have fallen from the status of Tampurans to Tampans. Their chief seat is the Vaikam taluk. The Tirumalpats do not seem to have ruled at all. The word Tirumulpatu indicates those that wait before kings. There is an old Sanskrit verse, which describes eight classes of Kshatriyas as occupying Kerala from very early times, namely (1) Bhupala or Maha Raja, such as those of Travancore and Cochin, (2) Rajaka or Rajas, such as those of Mavelikara and Kotungallur, (3) Kosi or Koiltampuran, (4) Puravan or Tampan, (5) Sripurogama or Tirumulpat, (6) Bhandari or Pantarattil, (7) Audvahika or Tirumalpat, (8) Cheta or Samanta. From this list it may be seen that two classes of Tirumulpats are mentioned, namely, Sripurogamas who are the waiters at the Raja’s palace, and the Audvahikas who perform Udvaha or wedding ceremony for certain castes. Both these, however, are identical people, though varying in their traditional occupations. The chief seats of the Tirumulpats are Shertallay and Tiruvalla.”

The Tampans and Tirumulpats are, for all purposes of castes, identical with other Malabar Kshatriyas. Every Tampan in Travancore is related to every other Tampan, and all are included within one circle of death and birth pollution. Their manners and customs, too, are exactly like those of other Kshatriyas. They are invested with the sacred thread at the sixteenth year of age, and recite the Gayatri (hymn) ten times thrice a day. The Nambutiri is the family priest, and (death) pollution lasts for eleven days. The Kettukalyanam, or tali-tying ceremony, may be performed between the seventh and the fourteenth year of age. The tali is tied by the Aryappattar, while the Namputiris recite the Vedic hymns. Their consorts are usually Namputiris, and sometimes East Coast Brahmans. Like all the Malabar Kshatriyas, they follow the marumakkathayam system of inheritance (through the female line). Tampans and Tirumulpats are often the personal attendants of the Travancore Maharajas, whom they serve with characteristic fidelity and devotion.The Tirumulpats further perform the tali-tying ceremony of the Nayar aristocracy.

The names of the Tirumulpats and Tampans are the same as those of other classes of Kshatriyas. The title Varma is uniformly added to their names. A few families among these, who once had ruling authority, have the titular suffix Bhandarattil, which is corrupted into Pantarattil. The Tampans call themselves in documents Koviladhikarikal, as they once had authority in kovils or palaces.

Tiruman (holy deer).—An exogamous section of Kallan.

Tirumudi (holy knot).—Recorded, in the Madras Census Report, 1901, as “bricklayers, whose women are usually prostitutes; found chiefly in Salem and Coimbatore. They are either Vettuvans or Kaikolans. Kaikolan women, when they are dedicated to the temple, are supposed to be united in wedlock with the deity.

Tiruvalluvan.—A sub-division of Valluvan. Tiruvalluvar, the author of the Kural, is said to have belonged to the Valluva caste.

Tiru-vilakku-nagarattar (dwellers in the city of holy lamps).—A name assumed by Vaniyans (oil-pressers).

Tiyadi.—A synonym of the Tiyattunni section of Ambalavasis (see Unni).

Tiyan.—The Tiyans, and Izhuvans or Iluvans, are the Malayalam toddy-drawing castes of Malabar, Cochin, and Travancore. The following note, except where otherwise indicated, is taken from an account of the Tiyans of Malabar by Mr. F. Fawcett.

The Tiyans in Malabar number, according to the census returns, 512,063, or 19·3 per cent. of the total population. The corresponding figures for the Izhuvans are 101,638, or 3·8 per cent. The Tiyans have been summed up16 as the middle class of the west coast, who cultivate the ground, take service as domestics, and follow trades and professions—anything but soldiering, of which they have an utter abhorrence.

The marumakkatayam system (inheritance through the female line), which obtains in North Malabar, has favoured temporary connections between European men and Tiyan women, the children belonging to the mother’s tarvad. Children bred under these conditions, European influence continuing, are often as fair as Europeans. It is recorded, in the Report of the Malabar Marriage Commission, 1894, that “in the early days of British rule, the Tiyan women incurred no social disgrace by consorting with Europeans, and, up to the last generation, if the Sudra girl could boast of her Brahman lover, the Tiyan girl could show more substantial benefits from her alliance with a white man of the ruling race. Happily, the progress of education, and the growth of a wholesome public opinion, have made shameful the position of a European’s concubine; and both races have thus been saved from a mode of life equally demoralising to each.” On this point, Mr. L. K. Anantha Krishna Iyer writes as follows.17 “It is true that there is an elevation both physically and mentally in the progeny of such a parentage. On making enquiries about this, I learn from a respectable and educated Tiyan gentleman that this union is looked upon with contempt by the respectable class of people, and by the orthodox community. I am further informed that such women and children, with their families, are under a ban, and that respectable Tiya gentlemen who have married the daughters of European parentage are not allowed to enjoy the privileges of the caste. There are, I hear, several such instances in Calicut, Tellicherry, and Cannanore. Women of respectable families do not enter into such connection with Europeans.”

It is commonly supposed that the Tiyans and Izhuvans came from Ceylon. It is recorded, in the South Canara Manual, that “it is well known that both before and after the Christian era there were invasions and occupations of the northern part of Ceylon by the races then inhabiting Southern India, and Malabar tradition tells us that some of these Dravidians migrated again from Iram or Ceylon northwards to Travancore and other parts of the west coast of India, bringing with them the cocoanut or southern tree (tengina mara), and being known as Tivars (islanders) or Iravars, which names have since been altered to Tiyars and Ilavars. Dr. Caldwell derives Iram from the Sanskrit Simhala through the Pali Sihala by the omission of the initial S.” It is noted by Bishop Caldwell18 that there are traces of a common origin of the Iluvans and Shanars, Shanar (or Shener), for instance, being a title of honour amongst the Travancore Ilavars. And it is further recorded19 that there is a tradition that the Shanars came originally from Ceylon. The Izhuvans are supposed to derive their caste name from Izha dwipa (island) or Simhala dwipa (both denoting Ceylon). In a Tamil Puranic work, quoted by Mr. Anantha Krishna Iyer, mention is made of a King Illa of Ceylon, who went to Chidambaram in the Tamil country of Southern India, where a religious discussion took place between the Buddhist priests and the Saivite devotee Manickavachakar in the presence of King Illa, with the result that he was converted to the Saivite faith. From him the Iluvans are said to be descended.

The Tiyans are always styled Izhuvan in documents concerning land, in which the Zamorin, or some Brahman or Nayar grandee, appears as landlord. The Tiyans look down on the Izhuvans, and repudiate the relationship. Yet they cannot but submit to be called Izhuvan in their documents, for their Nayar or Brahman landlord will not let them have the land to cultivate, unless they do so. It is a custom of the country for a man of a superior caste to pretend complete ignorance of the caste of an individual lower in the social scale. Thus, in the Wynad, where there are several jungle tribes, one is accustomed to hear a man of superior caste pretending that he does not know a Paniyan from a Kurumba, and deliberately miscalling one or the other, saying “This Paniyan,” when he knows perfectly well that he is a Kurumba. It is quite possible, therefore, that, though Tiyans are written down as Izhuvans, the two were not supposed to be identical. State regulations keep the Izhuvans of Cochin and Travancore in a position of marked social inferiority, and in Malabar they are altogether unlettered and uncultured. On the other hand, the Tiyans of Malabar provide Magistrates, Sub-Judges, and other officials to serve His Majesty’s Government. It may be noted that, in 1907, a Tiya lady matriculate was entertained as a clerk in the Tellicherry post-office.

A divagation must be made, to bring the reader to a comprehension of the custom surrounding mattu, a word signifying change, i.e., change of cloth, which is of sufficient importance to demand explanation. When a man or woman is outcasted, the washerwoman (or man) and the barber of the community (and no other is available) are prohibited from performing their important parts in the ceremonies connected with birth, death, and menstruation. A person who is in a condition of impurity is under the same conditions; he or she is temporarily outcasted. This applies to Nambutiris and Nayars, as well as to the Tiyans. Now the washerwoman is invariably of the Tiyan caste. There are Mannans, whose hereditary occupation is washing clothes for Nambutiris and Nayars, but, for the most part, the washerwoman who washes for the Nayar lady is of the Tiyan caste. A woman is under pollution after giving birth to a child, after the death of a member of her tarvad, and during menstruation. And the pollution must be removed at the end of the prescribed period, or she remains an outcaste—a very serious thing for her. The impurity is removed by receiving a clean cloth from the washerwoman, and giving in exchange her own cloth to be washed. This is mattu, and, be it noted, the cloth which gives mattu is one belonging to the washerwoman, not to the person to be purified. The washerwoman gives her own cloth to effect the purification. Theoretically, the Tiyan has the power to give or withhold mattu, and thus keep any one out of caste in a state of impurity; but it is a privilege which is seldom if ever exercised. Yet it is one which he admittedly holds, and is thus in a position to exercise considerable control over the Nambutiri and Nayar communities. It is odd that it is not a soiled cloth washed and returned to the person which gives purification, but one of the washerwoman’s own cloths. So the mattu may have a deeper meaning than lies in mere change of cloth, dressing in a clean one, and giving the soiled one to a person of inferior caste to wash. This mattu is second in importance to no custom. It must be done on the last day of pollution after birth and death ceremonies, and menstruation, or the person concerned remains outcasted. It is noteworthy that the Izhuvans know nothing of mattu.

An Izhuvan will eat rice cooked by a Tiyan, but a Tiyan will not eat rice cooked by an Izhuvan—a circumstance pointing to the inferiority of the Izhuvan. A Nayar, as well as a Tiyan, will partake of almost any form of food or drink, which is prepared even by a Mappilla (Malabar Muhammadan), who is deemed inferior to both. But the line is drawn at rice, which must be prepared by one of equal caste or class, or by a superior. An Izhuvan, partaking of rice at a Tiyan’s house, must eat it in a verandah; he cannot do so in the house, as that would be defilement to the Tiyan. Not only must the Izhuvan eat the rice in the verandah, but he must wash the plates, and clean up the place where he has eaten. Again, an Izhuvan could have no objection to drinking from a Tiyan’s well. Further, there is practically no mixture in the distribution of Tiyans and Izhuvans. Where there are Izhuvans there are no Tiyans, and vice versÂ. [In a photograph of a group of Izhuvan females of Palghat eating their meal, which was sent to me, they are all in a kneeling posture, with the buttocks supported on the heels. They are said to assume the same attitude when engaged in grinding and winnowing grain, and other occupations, with a resultant thickening of the skin over the knees.]

Differences, which might well come under the heading marriage, may be considered here, for the purpose of comparison between the Tiyans and Izhuvans. During the preliminaries to the marriage ceremony among the Tiyans, the date of the marriage having been fixed in the presence of the representatives of the bride and bridegroom, the following formula is repeated by the Tandan or headman of the bride’s party. Translated as accurately as possible, it runs thus. “The tara and changati of both sides having met and consulted; the astrologer having fixed an auspicious day after examining the star and porutham; permission having been obtained from the tara, the relations, the illam and kulam, the father, uncle, and the brothers, and from the eight and four (twelve illams) and the six and four (ten kiriyams); the conji and adayalam ceremonies and the four tazhus having been performed, let me perform the kanjikudi ceremony for the marriage of ... the son of ... with ... daughter of ... in the presence of muperium.” This formula, with slight variations here and there, is repeated at every Tiyan marriage in South Malabar. It is a solemn declaration, giving validity to the union, although, in the way that custom and ritual survive long after their original significance has been forgotten, the meaning of many of the terms used is altogether unknown. What, for instance, is the meaning of muperium? No one can tell. But a few of the terms are explainable.

Tara. The tara was the smallest unit in the ancient government system, which, for want of a better term, we may style feudal. It was not exactly a village, for the people lived apart. Each tara had its Nayar chieftain, and also its Tiyan chief or Tandan, its astrologer, its washerman, its goldsmith, and other useful people, each serving the community for the sake of small advantages. Each tara was its own world.

Changati (friend). The friends of both parties which negotiated the marriage.

Porutham (agreement). Examination of the horoscopes of the boy and girl makes it possible to ascertain whether there is agreement between the two, and the union will be propitious.

Illam. Here intended to mean the father’s family.

Kulam. The name, derived from kula a branch, here denotes the mother’s family.

Twelve illams, ten kiriyams. The word illam, now used exclusively for the residence of a Nambutiri, is supposed to have been used in days of old for the house of a person of any caste. And this supposition is said to find support in the way that a Tiyan coming from the south is often greeted in South Canara. Thus, a Malabar Tiyan, travelling to the celebrated temple at Gokarnam in South Canara, is at once asked “What is your illam and kiriyam?” He has heard these terms used in the foregoing formula during his own or another’s marriage ceremony, but attached no meaning to them. To the man of South Canara they have genuine meaning. One should be able to answer the question satisfactorily, and thus give a proper account of himself. If he cannot, he gets neither food nor water from the South Canara Tiyan. This also holds good, to some extent, in the case of a southern Tiyan visiting the northern parts of the Cherakal taluk of Malabar.

The ten illams of South Malabar are as follows:—

The illams of North Malabar are said to be—

• Nellika.
• Pullanhi.
• Vangeri.
• Koyikkalan.
• Padayam Kudi.
• Tenan Kudi.
• Manan Kudi.
• Vilakkan Kudi.

Marriage is strictly forbidden between two persons belonging to the same illam. The bride and bridegroom must belong to different illams. In fact, the illams are exogamous. Members of some of the illams were allowed certain privileges and dignities. Thus, the men of the Varakat illam (Varaka Tiyans) were in the old days permitted to travel in a mancheel (a hammock-cot slung on a pole). They were allowed this privilege of higher caste people, which was prohibited to the Tiyans of other illams. But, should one of them, when travelling in a mancheel, happen to see a Rajah or a Nayar, he was obliged to hang one of his legs out of it in token of submission. The Varaka Tiyans were further allowed to wear gold jewels on the neck, to don silken cloths, to fasten a sword round the waist, and to carry a shield. The sword was made of thin pliable steel, and worn round the waist like a belt, the point being fastened to the hilt through a small hole near the point. A man, intending to damage another, might make an apparently friendly call on him, his body loosely covered with a cloth, and to all appearances unarmed. In less than a second, he could unfasten the sword round his waist, and cut the other down. The well-known Mannanar belonged to the Varakat illam. Those who know Malabar will recall to mind the benevolent but strange institution which he initiated. He provided a comfortable home for Nambutiri women who were thrown out of caste, and thus in the ordinary course of events doomed to every misery and degradation to be found in life. On being outcasted, the funeral ceremonies of Nambutiri women were performed by her own people, and she became dead to them. She went to the Mannanar, and her birth ceremonies were performed, so that she might begin life anew in a state of purity. If, on arrival, she entered by the left door, she was his wife, if by the front door, his sister. It is said that, when their chief, Mannanar of the Aramana, is destitute of heirs, the Tiyans of Kolattanad go in procession to the Kurumattur Nambutiri (the chief of the Peringallur Brahmans) and demand a Brahman virgin to be adopted as sister of Mannanar, who follows the marumakkatayam rule of succession. This demand, it is said, used to be granted by the Nambutiris assembling at a meeting, and selecting a maiden to be given to the Tiyans.

Kiriyam is said to be a corrupt form of the Sanskrit word griham (house), but this seems rather fanciful. There are said to have been about two kiriyams for each village. The names of only three are known to me, viz., Karumana, Kaita, and Kampathi. There is a village called Karumana, near the temple of Lakshmipuram in South Canara. Karumana is applied as a term to signify a Tiyan during the ordinary devil-dancing in temples, when an oracular utterance is delivered. The oracle always addresses the Tiyan as “my Karumana,” not as “my Tiyan.” The only other use of the word is in Karumana acharam (the customs of the Tiyans).

Other outward and visible differences between Tiyan and Izhuvan marriages are these. The South Malabar Tiyan bridegroom, dressed as if for a wrestling match, with his cloth tied tight about his loins, carries a sword and shield, and is escorted by two companions similarly equipped, dancing their way along. The Izhuvan does not carry a sword under any circumstances. The chief feature of his wedding ceremony is a singing match. This, called the vatil-tura-pattu, or open the door song, assumes the form of a contest between the parties of the bridegroom and bride. The story of Krishna and his wife Rukmini is supposed to be alluded to. We have seen it all under slightly different colour at Conjeeveram. Krishna asks Rukmini to open the door, and admit him. She refuses, thinking he has been gallivanting with some other lady. He beseeches; she refuses. He explains, and at length she yields. The song is more or less extempore, and each side must be ready with an immediate answer. The side which is reduced to the extremity of having no answer is beaten and under ignominy.

I pass on to the subject of personal adornment of the Tiyans:—

(a) North Malabar, Males—

• 1. A horizontal dab made with white ashes on either side of the forehead and chest, and on the outside of each shoulder.
• 2. Two gold ear-rings (kadakkan) in each ear. A silver chain hanging from the sheath of his knife, and fastened with a boss. Two tambak (copper, brass and silver) rings on the ring finger of the left hand.
• 3. A gold kadakkan in each ear, and an iron ring on the ring finger of the left hand.
• 4. A thorn in each ear (another was similarly ornamented). Not married.
• 5. A gold ear-ring in each ear. An iron ring on the little finger of the left hand. Two silver rings, in which is set a piece of hair from an elephant’s tail, on the little finger of the right hand.

A few individuals wore brass rings, and some had ear-rings, in which a red stone was set. Amulets were worn by some in little cylindrical cases on a string, to protect the wearer against enemies, the evil eye, or devils. One man wore a silver girdle, to which an amulet in a case was fastened, underneath his cloth, so that it was not in view to the public. One individual only is noted as having been tattooed, with a circular mark just above his glabella. The arms of a good many, and the abdomen of a few, bore cicatrices from branding, apparently for the purpose of making them strong and relieving pains.

(b) South Malabar, Males.

In the country parts, the waist cloth is always worn above the knee. About a third of the individuals examined wore ear-rings. The ears of all were pierced. Those who were without ear-rings had no scruples about wearing them, but were too poor to buy them.

• 1. Blue spot tattooed over the glabella.
• 2. Silver amulet-case, containing fifteen gold fanams, at the waist. He said that he kept the coins in the receptacle for security, but I think it was for good luck.
• 3. Ear-ring (kadakkan) in each ear. A copper amulet-case, containing a yantram to keep off devils, at the waist.
• 4. Four silver amulet-cases, containing yantrams on a copper sheet for curing some ailment, at the waist.
• 5. Two gold kadakkans in each ear. A white spot over the glabella.

(c) North Malabar, Females.

In olden days, the women used to wear coloured and striped cloths round the waist, and hanging to the knees. The breast was not covered. The body above the waist was not allowed to be covered, except during the period of death pollution. Nowadays, white is generally the colour to be seen, and the body is seldom covered above the waist—never one may say, except (and then only sometimes) in the towns. The Izhuvan women in Malabar always wear blue cloths: just one cloth rolled tightly round the waist, and hanging to the knees. Of late, they have taken to wearing also a blue cloth drawn tight over the breast.

Ornaments. The thodu, which is now sometimes worn by Tiyan women, is not a Tiyan ornament. The ear-rings, called kathila and ananthod, are the Tiyan ornaments, and look like strings of gold beads with pendants. Discs of white metal or lead are used to stretch and keep open the dilated lobes of the ears, in which gold ornaments are worn when necessary or possible. Venetian sequins, real or imitation, known in Malabar as amada, are largely used for neck ornaments. There is a Malabar proverb that one need not look for an insect’s burrow in amada, meaning that you cannot find anything vile in a worthy person.

Turning now to the subject of marriage. In the ordinary course of things, a marriage would not be made between a Tiyan girl of South Malabar and a Tiyan man of North Malabar, for the reason that the children of such a marriage would inherit no property from the family of either parent. The husband would have no share in the property of his family, which devolves through the women; nor would the wife have any share in that of her family, which is passed on through the men. So there would be nothing for the children. But, on the other hand, marriage between a girl of the north and a man of the south is a different thing. The children would inherit from both parents. As a rule, Tiyans of the north marry in the north, and those of the south in the south.

It was generally admitted that it was formerly the custom among the Tiyans in South Malabar for several brothers—in fact all of them—to share one wife. Two existing instances of this custom were recorded.

The arrangement of a marriage, and the ceremonial which will now be described, though pertaining strictly to the Calicut taluk of South Malabar, are sufficiently representative of a Tiyan marriage anywhere. There is, however, this difference, that, in North Malabar, where inheritance through females obtains, and the wife invariably resides in her own tarwad or family home, there is never any stipulation concerning a girl’s dowry. In South Malabar, where inheritance is through the males, and where the wife lives in her husband’s house, the dowry in money, jewels, or furniture, is as a rule settled beforehand, and must be handed over on the wedding day. In the Calicut taluk, we find an exception to this general rule of South Malabar, where the subject of the dowry is not usually mentioned. In North Malabar, gifts of jewels are made in proportion as the bride’s people are wealthy and generous. What is given is in the way of a gift, and forms no feature in the marital agreement.

The first step to be taken in connection with marriage is examination of the horoscopes of the boy and girl, in order to ascertain whether their union will be one of happiness or the reverse. While this is being done by the Panikkar (Malabar astrologer), the following persons should be present:—

(a) On the part of the bridegroom—

• 1. Tandan, or chief of the tara.
• 2. Father, or other elder in the family.
• 3. Uncle, i.e., the mother’s brother. In Malabar the word uncle means maternal uncle.
• 4. Sisters’ husbands.
• 5. Four or more friends or companions.
• 6. Any number of relations and friends.

(b) On the part of the bride—

• 1. Tandan of her tara.
• 2. Father,or other guardian.
• 3. Uncle.
• 4. Four or more friends.
• 5. The astrologer of her tara.
• 6. Friends and relations.

The ceremony must be performed at the house of the girl’s family. Her father’s consent is necessary, but his presence is not essential at this or the two subsequent ceremonies in connection with the marriage. The Tandan, it may be noted, is the caste governmental head in all matters affecting his own caste and the artisans. He is a Tiyan, and his office, which is authorised by the local Rajah, or rather by his senior Rani, is hereditary. In exceptional cases, however, the hereditary right may be interrupted by the Rani appointing some one else. The Tandan of the tara is required to assist at every ceremony connected with marriage, at the ceremony when a girl attains puberty, at that of tying the tali, and at the fifth and seventh months of pregnancy. His formal permission is required before the carpenter can cut down the areca palm, with which the little shed in which the tali is tied is constructed. In cases of divorce, his functions are important. When a new house is built, there must be a house-warming ceremony, at which the Tandan officiates. Fowls are sacrificed, and the right leg is the Tandan’s perquisite. He is a man of importance, not only in many affairs within his own caste, but also in those of other castes. Thus, when a Nayar dies, it is the Tandan’s duty to get the body burnt. He controls the washerman and barber of the tara, and can withdraw their services when they are most needed. He officiates, moreover, at marriages of the artisan class—carpenters, braziers, goldsmiths and blacksmiths.

A group of taras forms what is called a desam, the koyma or “sovereignty” of which is represented by a Nayar tarwad. It is through the head or Karnavan (really the chieftain) of this tarwad that the Tandan approaches the Raja in matters of appeal, and the like. The Tandan is to some extent under his guidance and control, but he must provide the Tandan with a body-guard of two Nayars on occasions of marriages. In the old days, it may be mentioned, the Tandans of the taras within the rule of the Zamorin were always appointed by his senior Rani. The term Tandan must not be confounded with the Tandars, a people of the Palghat taluk, who appear to be allied to the Izhuvans. These Tandars observe the custom of paternal polyandry, while the Izhuvans abhor it.

The procedure observed in the examination of horoscopes is as follows. The Tandan of the bride’s tara gives a grass or palmyra palm leaf mat to the astrologer to sit on, and supplies mats or seats for the bridegroom’s party. The common sleeping mat of wild pine leaves, or a wooden stool, must, on no account, be given for the astrologer to sit on. It may be day or night when the ceremony takes place, but, whatever the hour may be, a lamp having five, seven, nine, or eleven cotton wicks, must be burning in front of the astrologer. The Tandan’s wife puts it in its place. Then the boy’s uncle hands over the boy’s horoscope to his Tandan, who passes it on to the girl’s Tandan. The girl’s father hands her horoscope to their Tandan, who, when he has received them both, passes them on to the astrologer. The two horoscopes should agree on twenty-one points—a requirement which might prove awkward, were it not that a balance in favour of beneficent influences is generally allowed to admit of the marriage taking place. In the case of agreement, the boy’s uncle, through his Tandan, then pays two fanams20 (eight annas)—one for each horoscope—to the astrologer. When there is disagreement, the girl’s uncle pays the money. The horoscopes (which have been privately examined beforehand to make sure of no disagreement) are returned to their respective owners. After the examination of the horoscope, there is a feast with plenty of sweetmeats. The next item is the conjee (rice gruel) ceremony, at which the following should be present:—

(a) On the part of the boy—

• 1. Father, his brother, or some one representing him.
• 2. Husbands of all married sisters.
• 3. Uncle.
• 4. Tandan of his tara.
• 5. Neighbours and friends.

(b) On the part of the girl—

• 1. Uncle.
• 2. Relations of married sisters.
• 3. Relations of married brothers.
• 4. Tandan of her tara.
• 5. Astrologer of her tara.
• 6. Relations and friends.

The horoscopes are again formally examined by the astrologer, who announces that their agreement augurs a happy wedded life. The boy’s uncle pays him two fanams. The girl’s uncle takes the two horoscopes, which have just been tied together, from the astrologer, and hands them to the Tandan of the girl’s tara, who passes them on to the Tandan of the boy’s tara. They are handed by him to the boy’s uncle. The astrologer then writes on a palmyra leaf a note for each party to the marriage, stating the auspicious day and hour for the final ceremony, the hour at which the bride should leave her house, and the hour for her arrival at the house of the bridegroom. The following programme is then gone through. In the verandah, facing east, before the front door, is spread an ordinary sleeping mat, over it a grass mat, and over that a plain white cloth which has been washed and is not a new one. On the floor close by, the following articles are placed:—

A lamp, having an odd number of cotton wicks, which is kept lighted whatever the hour of day it may be;

A measure, called nazhi, made of jak tree (Artocarpus integrifolia) wood, filled to overflowing with rice, and placed on a flat bell-metal plate (talika);

A plain white cloth, washed but not new, neatly folded, and placed on the metal plate to the right (south) of the rice;

A small bell-metal vessel (kindi), having no handle, filled with water.

The lamp is placed on the south side of the mat, the plate next to it (to the north), and the kindi at a little distance to the left (the north). The people who sit on the mat always face the east. The mat having been spread, the various articles just mentioned are brought from the central room of the house by three women, who set them in their places. The Tandan’s wife carries the lamp, the eldest woman of the house the bell-metal plate, and some other woman the kindi. The Tandan of the boy’s tara, the boy’s sister’s husband, and a friend then sit on the mat covered with a cloth. If the boy has two brothers-in-law, both sit on the mat, to the exclusion of the friend. The senior woman of the house then hands three plates of rice conjee to the Tandan of the girl’s tara, who places them in front of the three persons seated on the mat. To the right of each plate, a little jaggery (unrefined sugar) is placed on a piece of plantain leaf. Each of those seated takes about a spoonful of conjee in his right hand. The Tandan repeats the formula, which has already been given, and asks “May the conjee be drunk”? He answers his question by drinking some of the conjee, and eating a little jaggery. All three then partake of the conjee and jaggery, after which they rise from the mat, and the plates and mat are removed. The place is cleaned, and the mats are again put down, while betel is distributed. The two Tandans then sit on the mat. The girl’s Tandan picks up a bundle of about twenty-five betel leaves, and gives half to the boy’s Tandan. The Tandans exchange betel leaves, each giving the other four. The boy’s Tandan then folds four fanams (one rupee) in four betel leaves, which he hands to the girl’s Tandan, saying “May the conjee ceremony be performed”? The Tandans again exchange betel leaves as before, and distribute them to all the castemen present, beginning with the uncles of the boy and girl. The proceedings in the verandah are now over. The next part of the ceremony takes place in the middle room of the house, where the mats, lamp, and other articles are arranged as before. The two Tandans sit on the mat with the boy on the right and the girl on the left, facing east. The boy’s uncle stands in front of the Tandans, facing west, and the girl’s uncle behind them, facing east. The boy’s father gives to the boy’s uncle two new plain white cloths, with twenty-one fanams (Rs. 5–4) placed on them. When presenting them, he says “Let the Adayalam be performed” three times, and the girl’s uncle says thrice “Let me receive the Adayalam.” The Tandans again exchange betel leaves, and distribute them among the castemen. Then follows a feast, and more betel. The date of the wedding has now to be fixed. They congregate in the middle room once more, and the Tandans sit on the mat. The girl’s Tandan shares a bundle of betel leaves with the boy’s Tandan, who, taking therefrom four leaves, places two rupees on them, and gives them to the girl’s Tandan. The boy’s party supplies this money, which is a perquisite of the Tandan. When handing over the leaves and the coins, the boy’s Tandan says “On ... (naming a date) ... and ... (the bride and bridegroom), and friends, and four women will come. Then you must give us the girl, and you must prepare the food for that day.” The other Tandan replies “If you bring six cloths and forty-two fanams (Rs. 10–8) as kanam, and two fanams for the muchenan (the girl’s father’s sister’s son), the girl will be sent to you.” The cloths should be of a kind called enna kacha, each four cubits in length, but they are not now procurable. Kanam is a term used in land tenures, for which there is no precise equivalent in English. It is a kind of mortgage paid by a tenant to a landlord. The former is liable to eviction by the latter, when he obtains better terms for his land from another tenant—a condition of modern growth breeding much mischief and bad blood. But, when a tenant is evicted, he is entitled, according to law, to the value of certain improvements on the land, including eight annas for each tree which he has planted. The kanam is paid by the boy’s sister or sisters. His Tandan addresses his brother-in-law or brothers-in-law in the words “On ... (mentioning a date), you must come early in the day, with Rs. 10–8 as kanam,” and gives him or them four betel leaves. Those assembled then disperse. The boy’s people may not go to the girl’s house before the day appointed for the marriage.

The next item in connection with a marriage is the issue of invitations to the wedding. The senior women of the boy’s house, and the Tandan, invite a few friends to assemble at the house of the bridegroom. The mat, lamp, and other articles are placed in the middle room. The bridegroom (manavalan) sits on the mat, with a friend on either side of him. He has previously bathed, and horizontal daubs of sandal paste have been placed on his forehead, breast, and arms. He wears a new cloth, which has not been washed. His Tandan has adorned him with a gold bracelet on his right wrist, a knife with a gold or silver handle at the waist, and a gold or silver waist-belt or girdle over the loin-cloth. The bracelet must have an ornamental pattern, as plain bracelets are not worn by men. The girdle is in the form of a chain. Besides these things, he must wear ear-rings, and he should have rings on his fingers. His sister who pays the kanam dresses in the same style, but her cloths may be of silk, white without a pattern in the border, and she wears gold bracelets on both wrists. All enjoy a good meal, and then set out, and visit first the house of the Tandan. He and his wife walk in front, followed by the boy’s elder sisters, if he has any. Then comes the bridegroom with a friend before and behind him, with a few women bringing up the rear. At the Tandan’s house there is another meal, and then three, five, or seven houses are visited, and invitation to the wedding given in person. The proceedings for the day are then over, and, after three days, the brother-in-law, uncle, and all others receive invitations.

On the occasion of the marriage ceremony, the barber first shaves the bridegroom’s head, leaving the usual forelock on the crown, which is never cut. He performs the operation in a little shed to the east of the house, and a plantain leaf is placed so that the hair may fall on it. As a rule, the barber sits in front of the person whose hair he is shaving, while the latter, sitting cross-legged on the ground, bends forward. But, on this occasion, the bridegroom sits on a low wooden stool. Close by are a lamp and a measure of rice on a plantain leaf. The barber also shaves the two friends of the bridegroom (changathis), and receives a fanam and the rice for his trouble. The three youths then bathe, smear themselves with sandal paste, and proceed to dress. The bridegroom must wear round the loins a white cloth, new and unwashed. Round the top of the loin cloth he wears a narrow waist-band (kacha) of silk, from 14 to 21 cubits in length, with the ends hanging in front and behind. Over the shoulders is thrown a silk lace handkerchief. He puts in his ears gold ear-rings, round the neck a necklace called chakra (wheel) mala,21 on the right wrist a gold bracelet, gold rings on the fingers, a gold or silver chain round the loins, and a gold or silver-handled knife with a sheath of the same metal. The two companions are dressed in much the same way, but they wear neither necklace nor bracelet. The women wear as many ornaments as they please. Sisters of the bridegroom must wear bracelets on both wrists, a necklace, and a silk cloth (virali) on the shoulders. The bracelet worn by men is called vala, and must be made of one piece of metal. Those worn by women are called kadakam, and must be made in two pieces. When all are ready, mats, and other things are once more placed in the middle room, and the bridegroom and his two companions sit on the mats. They at once rise, and proceed to the little shed which has been erected in the front yard, and again seat themselves on the mats, which, with the other articles, have been brought thither from the middle room. Then the Tandan gives betel to the bridegroom and his two companions, who must chew it. The Tandan’s wife, the elder woman of the house, and the bridegroom’s sisters sprinkle rice on their heads. The Tandan gives a sword to the bridegroom and each of his companions. The procession then starts. In front walk two Nayars supplied by the Koyma of the desam (represented by the Nayar landlord). Then come the Tandan and a few elders, followed by the Tandan’s wife and some of the elder women, the bridegroom with his two companions, his sisters, and finally the general crowd. As the procession moves slowly on, there is much dancing, and swinging of swords and shields. At the bride’s house, the party is received by the wife of the Tandan of the tara holding a lighted lamp, the oldest woman of the family with a plate containing a measure of rice and a folded cloth, and another woman, who may be a friend, with a kindi of water. They sprinkle a little rice on the heads of the party as they enter the yard. The bridegroom sits on a mat, close to which the lamp and other articles are set. The bride’s Tandan takes charge of the swords, betel is distributed, and a hearty meal partaken of. The six cloths, which the bridegroom is required to bring are in reality three double cloths, one of which is for the use of the bride. It is the privilege of the bridegroom’s sisters and the Tandan’s wife to dress her. Her waist-cloth is tied in a peculiar way for the occasion, and she is enveloped from head to foot in a silken cloth, leaving only the eyes visible. The bridegroom, after his arrival at the bride’s house, has to put on a peculiar turban of conical shape, made of a stiff towel-like material, tied round with a silk handkerchief. The bridegroom’s sister leads the bride to the little shed (pandal) in the yard, and seats her behind the bridegroom. The kanam, and the remaining four cloths are then given by the bridegroom’s sister to the bride’s mother, and they, having tied a silk handkerchief across the body like a Brahman’s thread, stand behind the bridegroom, the mother to the right and the sister to the left. The latter says three times “Let the kanam be given,” and hands it to the bride’s mother, who, as she receives it, says thrice “Let me receive the kanam.” The mother at once hands it over to her husband, or the senior male member of the family. The Tandan then places plantain leaves, for use as plates, before the bridegroom and his two companions, and, facing the bridegroom, holds a vessel of cooked rice in front of him. The bride’s mother, standing behind him, serves out thrice some rice out of the pot on to the leaf in front of the bridegroom, and the Tandan does the same for his two companions. The bride’s mother then mixes some plantains, pappadams (large thin biscuits), sugar, and ghi (clarified butter) with the rice on the bridegroom’s leaf-plate, and offers the food to him three times. She will not, however, allow him to taste it. It is taken from his lips, and removed by the washerwomen. The bridegroom’s sister has the same play with the bride. The rice, which has thus been made a feature of the ceremony, is called ayini. A few days prior to the marriage, two small bundles of betel leaves, each containing areca nuts, half a dozen tobacco leaves, and two fanams are given by the bridegroom to the Nayar chieftain of the desam as his fee for furnishing an escort. In return for these offerings, he gives a new cloth to the bridegroom. Three measures of raw rice, ten or twelve pappadams, plantains, a cocoanut, and some dry uncooked curry-stuff are given by the bridegroom to each of the Nayars provided as escort on the eve of the marriage. When they arrive on the scene on the wedding day, they are given some beaten rice, rice cakes, cocoanuts, plantains, and a drink of arrack (spirit). When the bride’s parents and relations come for the Vathil ceremony, the same escort is provided, and the same presents are given. Just as the bridegroom and all are ready to leave, the bride’s father’s sister’s son called the machunan, steps forward, and demands two fanams from the bridegroom’s party in return for permission to take away the bride. He gets his money, and the party starts for the bridegroom’s house, after rice has been sprinkled over the heads of the contracting couple, the sisters of the bridegroom leading the bride. The swords, which have been returned by the Tandan, are again used in flourishing and dancing en route.

It is a prevalent custom throughout Southern India that a girl’s father’s sister’s son has the first right to her hand in marriage. This obtains not only among the Dravidian peoples, but also among Brahmans. The Malayalam word for son-in-law (marumakan) means nephew. If a stranger should marry a girl, he also is called nephew. But the unmarried nephew, having the first admitted right to the girl, must be paid eight annas, or two fanams, before he will allow her to be taken away. The argument is said to be as follows. A sister pays forty-two fanams as kanam for her brother’s wife. When the product, i.e., a daughter, is transferred to a stranger, the son claims compensation on his mother’s investment at the same rate as that at which a cocoanut tree is valued—eight annas. At all events, the nephew has the first right to a girl, and must be compensated before she can be taken away by another.

At the bridegroom’s house, the party is received by the wife of the Tandan and the lady of the house. Following the bride should come her parents and other relations, two Nayars representing the chieftain, and the Tandan of his tara. The formalities with mats and rice are gone through as before. Rice is sprinkled over the heads, the Tandan receives the swords, and all sit in the shed. The ayini rice ceremony is repeated for the bride by the bridegroom’s mother and sisters. The happy pair then proceed to the inner room of the house, where sweetmeats are served to them. Then is observed, as a rule, the asaram or gift ceremony. Relations are expected to give 101 fanams (Rs. 25–4), but the poorest of them are allowed to reduce the gift to 21 fanams (Rs. 5–4), and the others give according to their means. These gifts are supposed to be repaid with interest. The Tandan sees that a regular account of all the gifts is made out, and handed over to the bridegroom, and receives eight annas for his trouble. The accountant who prepares the accounts, and the person who tests the genuineness of the coins, each receives a bundle of betel leaves, four areca nuts, and two tobacco leaves. Betel leaves, areca nuts, and tobacco, are also given to each giver of gifts. After this, there is the vatil or house ceremony. Two large bundles of betel leaves are prepared, each of which contains a thousand or fifteen hundred leaves, and with them are placed forty or fifty tobacco leaves, and seventy to a hundred areca nuts. The bride’s Tandan pays two or four rupees as vatil kanam to the Tandan of the bridegroom, who hands the money to the bridegroom’s father. The bridegroom then places one bundle of betel leaves, with half the tobacco and areca nuts, before the bride’s father, and the other before her mother, and they are distributed by the Tandan of the girl’s tara and his wife among the men and women who are present. Sweetmeats are then distributed, and the marriage ceremony is concluded. A formal visit must be made subsequently by the women of the bride’s house to the bridegroom’s, and is returned by the bride and bridegroom. The first visit is paid by a party consisting of the bride’s mother, her uncle’s and brother’s wives, the wife of the Tandan, and other relations. They are expected to bring with them plenty of sweetmeats and bread for general distribution. When the return visit is made by the bride and bridegroom, the sister of the latter, and other relations and friends, should accompany them, and they should take with them a lot of betel leaves, areca nuts, tobacco, and sweetmeats. This exchange of visits does not, however, complete those which are de rigueur. For, at the next Onam and Vishu festivals, the newly married couple should visit the house of the bride’s family. Onam is the beginning of the first harvest, and Vishu the agricultural new year. On these occasions, the bridegroom takes with him the inevitable betel leaves, and presents a new cloth to the parents of the bride and every one else in the house. When the annual Tiruvathira festival takes place between the betrothal and marriage ceremonies, the bridegroom is expected to send to the temple, through his Tandan and one of his own relations, a quantity of ripe and unripe plantains.

The ceremonies which have been described differ considerably from those of the Tiyans of North Malabar, where the marumakkatayam law of inheritance obtains. These are very simple affairs.

In the Calicut taluk, a man can marry only one wife at a time. But, when a wife is barren, a leper, or suffering from incurable disease, her husband may, with her formal permission, marry another wife. A bride may be of any age. Where there is no stipulation as to dowry, it is a point of honour to give the girl as many jewels as the bridegroom can afford. Widows may remarry.

Divorce is admissible, when the grounds for it are sufficient. And, when we find that incompatibility of temper is among these, it is safe to say that it is fairly easy of accomplishment. No specific reason need, in fact, be assigned. When it is the man who wishes to get rid of his wife, he must pay her all her expenses towards the marriage, as assessed by persons of the caste who fill the rÔle of mediators. He has to give up jewels received from his wife’s family, and must, in some cases, pay the discarded wife something on account of her loss of virginity—a circumstance, which might make it difficult for her to obtain another husband. If the wife wishes to get rid of her husband, she must pay up all his expenses towards the marriage. The party found to be in the wrong must pay a fee of five to twenty rupees to the Tandan and all present, the relations excepted. The amount is distributed then and there. The procedure to be adopted in effecting divorce is as follows. The Tandans of both sides, uncles and relations, and sometimes the fathers, assemble at the house of the wife, the Tandan, or one of the relations. To the left of a burning lamp are placed two small wooden stools. On one of these are laid a small towel with four fanams (one rupee) tied up in a corner of it, and another towel with a little rice and four fanams tied up in it. Close by is the other stool, on which the wife’s uncle stretches a single thread taken from his own cloth. The husband carries this stool to the gate, and says three times to the wife’s brother, father, or uncle—“Your sister’s (daughter’s or niece’s) matrimonial connection is severed.” He then blows away the thread, throws the stool down, and departs for ever. This little ceremony cannot be performed at the husband’s house, as it would involve perpetual banishment from his own house. The coins in the cloths go to the Tandans. It is the uncle who gives these cloths, because it was he who received the two cloths at the conjee ceremony. A marriage cannot be dissolved unless both parties agree.

Tiya woman.

A girl is under pollution for four days from the commencement of the first menstrual period. During this time she must keep to the north side of the house, where she sleeps on a grass mat of a particular kind, in a room festooned with garlands of young cocoanut leaves. Round the mat is a narrow ridge made of paddy (unhusked rice), rice, and flowers of the cocoanut and areca palms. A lamp is kept burning, near which are placed the various articles already described in connection with marriage. Another girl keeps her company and sleeps with her, but she must not touch any other person, tree or plant. She further must not see the sky, and woe betide her if she catches sight of a crow or cat. Her diet must be strictly vegetarian, without salt, tamarinds, or chillies. She is armed against evil spirits with an iron knife carried on her person, or placed on the mat. On the first day, she is seated on a wooden stool in the yard to the east of the house. The fresh spathe of a cocoanut is cut in front of her. The bunch of blossoms is placed in a copper pot painted with perpendicular lines of chunam (lime), and a horizontal line at the top and bottom. The spathe of an areca palm is similarly treated, and, if the contents of both spathes are plentiful, it is regarded as a good augury of fertility. The wife of the girl’s uncle, or, if she is married, her husband’s sister pours some gingelly (Sesamum) oil over her head, on the top of which a gold fanam has been placed. Failing such relations, the wife of the Tandan officiates. The operation is repeated by two other women, relatives if possible. The oil is poured from a little cup made from a leaf of the jak tree (Artocarpus integrifolia), flows over the forehead, and is received with the fanam in a dish. It is a good omen if the coin falls with the obverse upwards. Rice is cooked with jaggery, and given to the girl. The other women partake thereof, and then have a feast by themselves. The anointing with oil is the only bath the girl has until the fourth day. On the third day, she is not allowed to eat rice in any form, but she may partake of any other grain in the form of cakes. Her uncle’s wife, husband’s sister, and other relations, give her presents of cakes and bread. During the night, the mattu, or cloth-changing ceremony, takes place. First of all, the washerman comes along with the washerwoman, carrying two washed cloths. In the front yard of the house a lamp with an odd number of wicks is burning. In a bamboo basket are a small measure (edangali) of paddy heaped up on a plantain leaf, a measure of rice on another leaf, two separate quarter measures thereof, a piece of turmeric, a little straw, a piece of coir (cocoanut fibre), and a cocoanut. As soon as he enters, the washerman, using the straw and coir skilfully, makes a bundle of the contents of the basket, and places it near the lamp, which is standing on a wooden stool. A cocoanut is cut in half, and placed, half on each side, by the stool. Thereon is set a flat bell-metal dish, containing a little rice and seven rolls of betel leaves and areca nuts. The washerwoman, having received the mattu from the woman, places it on his head and proceeds to sing a song, at the conclusion of which he says solemnly three times “Let me place the mattu.” He then places the cloths on the bundle, which is on the stool. The girl’s uncle’s wife, and four other women, have by this time emerged from the middle room of the house, carrying a lighted lamp, a plate with a measure of rice, and a kindi as before. The uncle’s wife, having covered her breast with a silk cloth, and wearing all her ornaments, leads the other four women as they walk thrice round the mattu. She then places a fanam (or a four-anna piece) on the mattu, lifts the stool, bundle and all, with one hand on the mattu and the other below the stool, and leads the procession of the women, with the lamp and other articles, to the room where the girl has been sleeping. She deposits her burden near the spot where the girl has laid her head. A general feast then takes place, and the washerman appropriates the fanam, and the paddy and rice spread in the yard. So ends the third day of these strange observances. On the fourth day, the girl bathes in a neighbouring pool, with some ceremonial. Before she leaves the house, the washerman fixes in the ground a branch of a certain tree, to the top and bottom of which he ties the two ends of a long line of thin coir rope or yarn. This is supposed to represent the bow of Kama, the Indian Cupid. He erects a miniature temple-like structure of young cocoanut leaves, with the stems of young plantains near it, by the side of the pool. Close to it, he places a burning lamp, and a small quantity of rice and paddy, each on a separate plantain leaf. Near them he sets a cocoanut, which has been blackened with charcoal, on some rice spread on a plantain leaf, a cocoanut reddened with turmeric and chunam on raw rice, and another on a leaf, containing fried paddy.22 He further deposits a few plantains, and two other cocoanuts. Before the girl leaves the house, clad in one of the cloths brought on the previous night, she is well rubbed all over with oil, and the four or six women23 who accompany her are similarly treated. Leading the way, they are followed by a number of women to the pool, where the girl and her companions bathe. After the bath, they stand by the side of the pool, facing east and holding lighted cotton-wicks in their hands, and go round the miniature temple three times, throwing the wicks into it. The washerman again breaks out into song, accompanying himself by striking a bell-metal plate with a stick. When he has finished, and gone through a little more business on his own account, the girl’s husband or brother (if she is unmarried) appears on the scene. He holds aloft the coir string, under the lower end of which a cocoanut has been placed on the ground. The girl passes three times forwards and backwards without touching it. Two cotton wicks, lighted at both ends, are laid on the cocoanut, and the girl should cut the wicks and the cocoanut through, completely severing them, with one blow of a strong knife or chopper. If she is successful, the omen is considered good. The girl, with her party, then bathes a second time. As she comes out of the water, she kicks out backwards like a mule, and sends the stem with the single cocoanut attached flying into the water with her right foot. The second mattu cloth is then brought, and she is clad in it. Then she is full dressed and ornamented and led back to the house with a silk canopy over her head. She is taken to the middle room, and cakes and rice are given to her to eat. A feast is then held. The girl has so far been purified as regards most affairs of life, but she cannot touch any cooking-vessel until she has undergone yet another ceremony. This takes place on the seventh or ninth day after the first appearance of the menses. Every day until then the girl is rubbed with gingelly oil and turmeric. Three ordinary earthenware cooking-pots are piled, one above the other, in the kitchen. The uppermost pot contains cooked rice, the middle one rice boiled with jaggery, and the lowest curry. The pots must be new, and are marked with perpendicular daubs of chunam. Seated on a low wooden stool to the west of the pots, the girl, facing the east, touches each pot with a knife. When the first of all these menstruation ceremonies has taken place at the house of the girl’s husband, her mother brings some cakes on this last day. If it has been performed at her father’s house, her husband’s sister should bring the cakes. They are distributed among all present, and a small meal is partaken of. All the expenses of the first, and seventh or ninth day ceremonies, are borne by the people of the house, who may be those of the family of the girl’s father or husband. The expenses of the ceremonial of the fourth day are defrayed by the girl’s husband if they have been performed at her father’s house, and vice versÂ.

The young wife has an easy time of it until the fifth month of her pregnancy, when she must again submit to becoming the subject for ceremonial. Then takes place the Belikala, for the purpose of appeasing some of the many malignant spirits, who are unceasing in their attempts to destroy infants in the womb. This consists for the most part of offerings, which are repeated in the seventh month. They are performed by members of the Mannan (washerman) and Panan (exorcists and devil-dancers) castes. At the commencement thereof, there is a feast. A structure, in shape something like a Muhammadan taboot,24 about five feet in height, is erected in the front yard of the house. It is made of stems of young plantain trees, and festooned with leaves of young cocoanut palms. The floor of the little edifice, and the ground outside it to the west, are strewn with charcoal made from paddy husk, on which are made magic squares of white rice flour, intermingled with red, green, and yellow, each colour being compounded with specified substances. The squares are not always the same, but are prepared for each occasion, so as to suit the particular spirit which is to be invoked and appeased. The pregnant woman, with six female companions, leaves the middle room of the house, carrying the usual lamp and other articles, and they walk seven times round the edifice. Before completing the last round, each throws into it a burning wick. They then stand to the west of it, facing east, and sit down. The Mannans invoke the spirit in song, accompanied by the clang of metal plates beaten with sticks. Drums must not be used. The music and weird devil-dancing go on more or less all night, and by morning some of the most nervous of the women, overcome by the spirit, go into fits. The fees for the devil-dancing are paid by the pregnant woman’s father. Last of all, a live cock is held against the forehead of the woman, mantrams (magical formulÆ) are repeated, and rice is thrown over her head. If she should have a fit, the head of the cock is cut off, and the blood offered to the demon spirit. If, however, she does not suffer from undue excitement, the cock is simply removed alive. She is left in peace for the next two months, when she goes to her father’s house, at which there is more devil-dancing at another Belikala ceremony. The fees are paid by the woman’s husband. They vary from five to thirty-two rupees, according to the cost of the edifice which is erected, and the quality of the dancing. The invocation of some of the devils requires specially trained dancers who must be paid high fees. On the morning following the dance, the tamarind juice drinking ceremony takes place at the house of the woman’s father. The fees in connection with this are debited to the husband. Taking advantage of an auspicious moment, the husband and two companions bathe in the early morning, and make a neat toilette, the husband wearing a necklace. They then go to the nearest tamarind, and pluck three small leafy twigs, which they bring to the house. The husband’s sister pounds the leaves in a mortar in a little shed or pandal in the front yard. The juice is then strained through a new double cloth eight cubits in length by the husband’s sisters. If he has no sisters, this should be done by his and his wife’s mothers. Rice conjee is then prepared with water, in which the tamarind juice has been mixed. The husband, and his two companions, sit under the pandal, where the usual lamp and other articles have been placed, with the wife behind him. Her brother then feeds him thrice with the conjee from a small gold spoon. The husband’s sister feeds the wife in like manner. One of the three twigs is planted by the husband in the front yard, and his wife waters it every day until the child is born. In the ninth month, the husband’s sister presents his wife with a couple of pounds of cummin seed and jaggery. The woman who brings this little gift should be given some cakes and sweetmeats. During pregnancy, a woman always wears an amulet concealed within a cylindrical tube on her neck, to protect her against malignant spirits.

The young wife’s child is born at her father’s house, where she is under the care of her mother. When the child is born, the brother of the newly made mother goes out into the yard, and strikes the ground three times with the stem of a dry cocoanut palm leaf. If the child is a boy, he emits a long drawn out ku-u-u-u in high falsetto as he does so. It is then the duty of the brother and the midwife to go and inform the father of the event. The midwife receives from him her fee, and a present of a cloth, and other presents from his sisters. If the child is a boy, the brother receives a cloth, and, if a girl, a cloth and a bell-metal plate.

The event of the birth of a child carries with it, as in the case of death, pollution to every one in the house. This is partially removed by ceremonies on the third day, and wholly by further ceremonies on the ninth or eleventh day, whichever happens to be the more auspicious—a Tuesday for example. Any one coming to the house before the first ceremonies have taken place must bathe and wash his or her cloth to remove the pollution. Any one visiting the house after the first, but before the second ceremony, need not bathe, but cannot eat any food in the house. The men of the household can get no rice at home until after the second ceremony has been performed, and they are consequently compelled to board elsewhere for the time being. A washerwoman carries out the purification rites, assisted by a barber woman. First of all, the floors of all the rooms are smeared with cow-dung. All clothes in use are given to the washerwoman. The women rub their bodies all over with oil, and the washerwoman brings mattu for them. The barber woman sprinkles a mixture of cow’s milk and karuka grass leaves over the women, who then go to a pool and bathe. When the milk is about to be sprinkled, the usual lamp, rice on a metal plate, and kindi of water are produced. The barber woman takes the rice and one fanam, and receives also some cocoanut and gingelly (Sesamum) oil. Much the same things are given to the washerwoman. The second ceremony is just like the first, but, even after its completion, the women of the house cannot touch any cooking-vessels until after the fifteenth day. The ceremony of touching the cooking pots, as at the time of the first menstrual period, is then performed. These three purificatory ceremonies must be performed after every birth.

On the twenty-seventh or fortieth day after the birth of a child, the mother and the infant are taken back to the husband’s house, and cow’s milk is for the first time given to the child. This event, which has all the solemnity of a regular function, takes place in the middle room, where the lamp, mat and other articles have been arranged. The child’s paternal grandfather, father’s elder brother, or other senior man administers the milk, which has been boiled. A gold bracelet is dipped in it, and the drops of milk are made to fall into the child’s mouth. As this is being done, the celebrant whispers in the child’s right ear the name which will be formally given to it in the sixth month. The eldest son is always named after the paternal grandfather, and the second after the father. In like manner, the eldest girl is named after its own mother. Relations and friends take this opportunity to make presents of bracelets and other articles to the infant. A feast is then held. After the ceremony is over, the parents of the child’s mother have to send about half a bag of rice flour mixed with jaggery to her husband’s house.

For the first six months of its life, a child’s food consists of nature’s fount and cow’s milk. It is then, before the sixth month is over, given boiled rice for the first time. The ceremony takes place either in the middle room of its father’s house, or at a temple. The child’s grandfather, or the eldest male member of the family, sits on a mat, and takes the child in his lap. With a gold ring he applies honey three times to its mouth, and then gives it a little rice three times. Female relations who are present follow his example, giving the child first honey, and then rice. Several women, with the lighted lamp and other articles, carry the child into the yard, to show it the sky. They go round a cocoanut tree, and stand before the front door, facing west. An elder among the women of the house stands at the front door, calls out the name of the child three times, and asks it to come inside. The relations give little presents of ornaments, and there is a feast.

It will be observed that even a child’s life is not entirely free from ceremonial. When it has grown up, it undergoes more of it, and, when it has lived its course on earth, is the subject of still more ceremonial long after it is dead. All these affairs involve some expenditure, but the one which literally runs away with money is marriage. The others are not extravagances, nor are they as costly as might be implied from the continual feasting of a large number of people. We must not think of these feasts as of a banquet at the Carlton, but as simple affairs, at which simple people are content with simple though pleasing fare.

When a child is provided by nature with teeth, it is the subject of a little ceremony, during which it is expected to disclose its natural propensities. The usual mat and other articles are arranged, and there are in addition a large flat bell-metal plate containing a rice cake, a knife, a palmyra leaf grantham (book), a cocoanut, and a gold ornament. The child is let loose, and allowed to pick out anything from the plate. If it takes the cake, it will be greedy; if the knife, brave; if the book, learned; if the cocoanut, a landlord; and, if the gold ornament, rich.

A child’s head is shaved in the third or fifth year. The barber, who performs the operation, is allowed to take away the rice which, with the lamp, is at hand. He also receives a fanam and a new cloth. The people of the child’s mother bring rice cakes.

The last day of the Dasara festival in the fifth year of a child’s life is that on which instruction in the alphabet begins. A teacher, who has been selected with care, or a lucky person holds the child’s right hand, and makes it trace the fifty-one letters of the Malayalam alphabet on raw rice spread on a plate. The fore-finger, which is the one used in offering water to the souls of the dead and in other parts of the death ceremonies, must not be used for tracing the letters, but is placed above the middle finger, merely to steady it. For the same reason, a doctor, when making up a pill, will not use the fore-finger. When, later on, the child goes to the village school, the fifty-one letters are written one by one on its tongue with a gold style, if one is available. As each letter is formed, the child has to repeat the sound of it.

The lobes of both a child’s ears are bored with a golden pin or a thorn. The helix of the ear is not bored for the purpose of inserting ornaments in it, but is sometimes bored as a remedy for disease, e.g., hernia. Everywhere else in Southern India, it is common for people of almost every class to have the helix of the left ear bored.

The tali-tying ceremony must be performed before a girl attains puberty. The Tiyan tali is usually of gold, and worth about half-a-crown. It is not the one which is worn in every day life, but the one which is used in the ceremony about to be described. Throughout Southern India, the tali is the ordinary symbol of marriage among Hindus, and it is even worn by Syrian Christians. In Malabar, and the Native States of Cochin and Travancore, it is a symbol of marriage, with which a girl is ceremoniously adorned, as a rule before she is affianced. The ceremony occupies three days, on the last of which the tali is tied. On the first day, a shed or pandal is erected in the front yard. Within it a similar structure is prepared with the leaves of an areca palm, which has been cut down at an auspicious moment, and with the formal sanction of the Tandan of the tara. This inner pandal is tastefully decorated with pictures and flowers. It is important to note that this little pandal must not be begun until the first day of the ceremony. On this day, the carpenter of the tara brings a low wooden seat, rather long and narrow, made from the pala tree (Alstonia scholaris), which must be cut at an auspicious moment, for which he receives one fanam. This seat is called mana.25 A grass mat is spread in the middle room of the house, with a white cloth over it, on which the mana is placed. A lamp, vessel of water, and the usual paraphernalia are arranged on the ground to the south close by. When these preliminaries have been completed, the girl is brought by the uncle’s wife to the pandal, and seated on a stool. In front of her, a lamp, and other things which are a feature in all ceremonials, and a measure of paddy are placed on the ground, a gold fanam is put on her head, and over it gingelly oil is poured. As the coin falls from the forehead, it is caught in a cup. It is important which side falls uppermost. The girl is then taken to a pool for bathing, and returns to the pandal. She is conducted to the middle room of the house in procession, with a silk canopy over her head and women carrying lamps, etc. She is confined in this room, which is decorated in the manner described when speaking of the menstruation ceremony, until the third day. She sleeps on a mat, surrounded by a little ridge of rice and paddy, cocoanut and areca palm flowers, and near her head is a copper pot marked with vertical daubs of white. The blacksmith of the tara brings a little stick, called charathkot, with an iron blade at one end, which is supposed to represent an arrow of Kama. This the girl keeps constantly at her side, and carries in her hand when compelled by nature to leave the room. While confined in the room, she is not allowed to eat fish, flesh, or salt, or see any animals, especially a cat, dog, or crow. On the third day, the tali is prepared on the spot by the village goldsmith. The girl’s uncle gives him the gold, which he melts, and works at in the pandal at an auspicious moment. The paddy and rice, which, with the lamp and vessel of water, have been in evidence during the operations, are given to the goldsmith, with a fanam for his labour. A weaver brings two new cloths, of a particular kind called mantra-kodi, for which the girl’s uncle pays. One is worn by the girl, and the mana is covered with the other. The girl is taken to bathe, and, after the bath, is richly dressed and ornamented, and brought in procession, with a canopy over her head, to the house, where she is conducted to the inner room. The mana is then placed, with the cloth near it, on a grass mat in the inner pandal. The uncle’s wife sits on the mat, and the uncle lifts the girl, carries her three times round the pandal, and deposits her in his wife’s lap. The astrologer, who is present, indicates the moment when the tali should be tied. The girl’s father gives him a fanam, and receives from him a little rice, called muhurtham (auspicious time). When the psychological moment has arrived he sprinkles the rice on the girl’s head, saying “It is time.” The tali is then tied round the girl’s neck by the uncle’s wife. At the upper end of the tali is a ring, through which the thread passes. The thread which is used for the purpose is drawn from the cloth with which the mana has been covered. [It is odd that there are some families of Nayars, who are not allowed to use a tali with a ring to receive the string, and are therefore obliged to make a hole in the tali itself.] As soon as the tali has been tied on the girl’s neck, a number of boys burst into song, praising Ganapathi (the elephant god), and descriptive of the marriage of King Nala and Damayanti, or of Sri Krishna and Rukmani. Every one joins in, and the song ends with shouts and hurrahs. A mock feeding ceremony is then carried out. Three plantain leaves are spread in front of the girl in the pandal, and rice, plantains, and pappadams are spread thereon. The uncle’s wife offers some of each to the girl three times, but does not allow her to touch it with her lips. The girl is then taken to a temple, to invoke the God’s blessing.

The description which has just been given is that of the ceremony which is performed, if the girl has not been affianced. If a husband has been arranged for her, it is he who ties the tali, and his sister takes the place of the uncle’s wife. Otherwise the ceremony is the same, with this difference, however, that, when the husband ties the tali, there can be no divorce, and the girl cannot remarry in the event of his death.

In North, as in South Malabar, the tali-tying ceremony is always performed before puberty, and occupies four days. This is the orthodox procedure. The girl wears a cloth provided by the washerwoman. She is taken from the middle room of the house to the yard, and there seated on a plank of pala wood. Placed in front of her are a small measure of rice and paddy, a washed white cloth, and a small bell-metal vessel (kindi) on a bell-metal plate. The barber pours cocoanut water on her head, on which a silver and copper coin have been placed. One of her relations then pours water from a vessel containing some raw rice over her head, using two halves of a cocoanut as a spout. The girl is then taken back to the middle room, where she remains for three days. There is a feast in the evening. On the fourth day, a pandal is erected in the front yard, and decorated. The girl is taken to bathe at a neighbouring pool, preceded by women carrying a lamp, a kindi of water, and other things which have been already described. During her absence, the barber performs puja to Ganapathi in the pandal. After bathing, she cuts a cocoanut in half, and returns in procession, with a silk canopy over her head, amid music and singing, and enters the middle room of the house. The barber woman ties a gold ornament (netti pattam) on her forehead, which she marks with sandal paste, and blackens her eyes with eye-salve. The uncle’s wife, preceded by women bearing a lamp and other articles, carries the mana, covered with cloth, from the middle room to the pandal. She walks three times round the pandal, and places the mana on a grass mat, over which has been spread some paddy and some rice where the girl will put her foot. The women who have carried the lamp, etc., return to the room, and escort the girl to the pandal. She walks thrice round it, and takes her seat on the mana. The barber hands her a little rice, which she throws on the lighted lamp, and articles which have been used in the puja to Ganapathi, and on the post supporting the south-west corner of the pandal. This post should be of pala wood, or have a twig of that tree tied to it. More rice is handed to the girl, and she throws it to the cardinal points of the compass, to the earth, and to the sky. A small earthen pot containing rice, a cocoanut, betel, and areca nuts, is placed near the girl. Into this a variety of articles, each tied up separately in a piece of plantain leaf, are placed. These consist of a gold coin, a silver coin, salt, rice, paddy, turmeric, charcoal, and pieces of an old cadjan leaf from the thatch of the house. The mouth of the pot is then covered over with a plantain leaf tied with string. The girl sprinkles rice three times over the pot, makes a hole in the leaf, and picks out one of the articles, which is examined as an augur of her destiny. Betel leaves and areca nuts are then passed twice round her head, and thrown away. She next twists off a cocoanut from a bunch hanging at a corner of the pandal. Then follows the presentation of cloths called mantra-kodi. These must be new, and of a particular kind. Each of her relations throws one of these cloths over the girl’s head. Half of them (perhaps ten or twelve) go to the barber, who, at this point, pours cocoanut water from the leaf of a banyan tree on her head, on which a silver and copper coin have been placed. The astrologer is then asked whether it is time to tie the tali, and replies three times in the affirmative. The barber woman hands the tali strung on a thread to the girl’s uncle’s wife, who ties it round the girl’s neck. The barber woman then pours water on the girl’s hands. Three times the water is flung upwards, and then to the east, west, south, and north. A cotton wick, steeped in oil, is then twisted round a piece of bamboo, and stuck on a young cocoanut. The girl is asked if she sees the sun, looks at the lighted wick, and says that she does. She is then taken to a cocoanut tree, preceded by the lamp, etc. She walks three times round the tree, and pours water over the root. The ceremony is now concluded, and the girl is marched back to the middle room.

A variation of the tali-tying ceremony, as performed in Chavakad on the coast between Calicut and Cochin, may be briefly described, because it possesses some interesting features. It is always done by the intended husband, or some one representing him. Seven days prior to the beginning of the ceremony, the carpenter of the tara, with the permission of the Tandan (here called Avakasi), cuts down an areca palm, and fixes part of it as the south-east post of the booth, at which the tali will be tied. On the sixth day, the girl is formally installed in the middle room of the house. The carpenter brings a mana of pala wood, the cost of which is paid by the father, and does puja to it. The bridegroom’s party arrive. A lamp is lighted in the booth, which is at this time partly, but not entirely, made ready. Near the lamp are placed a measure of paddy, half a measure (nazhi) of rice, a looking-glass, a kindi of water, and a wooden cheppu (a rude vessel with a sliding cover). The wives of the Tandan and uncle, together with some other women, bring the girl, and seat her on the mana. The uncle’s wife parts her hair, and places a gold fanam on her crown. The Tandan’s wife then pours a little oil on it over a leaf of the jak tree three times. The other women do the same. The girl is then taken to a pool, and bathed. Before her return, the mana should be placed ready for her in the middle room of the house. In the evening there is a feast. On the day but one following, the tali is tied. The last post of the booth is put up, and it is completed and decorated on the tali-tying day. A lamp, looking-glass, and other things are put in it. A grass mat is spread on the floor, and a kambli (blanket) and a whitewashed cloth are placed over it. On either side of it is placed a pillow. The bridegroom and his party wait in an adjoining house, for they must not appear on the scene until the psychological moment arrives. The Tandan of the bridegroom’s tara, with a few friends, comes first, and hands over two cloths and ten rupees eight annas to the bride’s Tandan. The girl is dressed in one of these cloths, and led to the booth, the bridegroom’s sister holding her by the hand. She sits on the mana, which has been brought, and placed on the cloth, by her uncle. The bridegroom comes in procession, carried on his uncle’s shoulders. The girl is still a child, and he is only a few years her senior. His uncle puts him down on the right side of the girl, after walking thrice round the booth. The girl’s uncle’s wife sits close to her, on the other side, on the mana. Her father asks the astrologer three times if it is the proper time to tie the tali, and is answered thrice in the affirmative. Then the boy bridegroom ties the tali on the girl’s neck. The boy and girl sing out a chorus in praise of Ganapathi, and end up with three loud shouts and hurrahs. Then the boy seats himself on the ground, outside the pillow. The girl is taken inside the house, and, after a general feast, is brought back, and seated on the mana, and rice and flowers are sprinkled. No money is paid to the uncle’s son, as at Calicut. The boy bridegroom pays eight annas to his sister for leading the bride by the hand. When the marriage has been done by proxy, the boy bridegroom is selected from a tarwad into which the girl might marry. He stays at the girl’s house for three days, and, on the fourth day, the boy and girl are taken to a temple. A formal divorce is effected, and the boy is taken away.

It will not be worth while to attempt a description of the marriage ceremony of the Tiyans of North Malabar, because there is none, or next to none. There the Tiyans and all classes, including even the Muhammadan Mappillas, follow the rule of marumakkatayam, or inheritance through females from uncle to nephew. The children have no right to their father’s property. Either party may annul the marital union at will, without awarding any compensation; and, as its infraction is easy and simple, so is its institution. Nor is there any rigid inquiry as to the antecedents of either party. It is an affair of mutual arrangement, attended with little formality. Proceeding to the girl’s house, accompanied by a few friends, the intending husband takes with him a couple of cloths, one for the girl, and the other for her mother. In parts of North Malabar, the Tiyan women wear an ornament called chittu (ring) in a hole bored in the top of the helix of each ear. The holes are bored in childhood, but the chittu is not worn until the girl forms a marital union with a man. The chittus are made on the spot at the time, in the marriage pandal erected for the occasion, the girl’s uncle providing the gold. They are never removed during life, except in cases of dire distress. “To sell chittu” is equivalent to having become a pauper. It is supposed that, in olden days, the marriage ceremonies lasted over seven days, and were subsequently reduced to seven meals, or three and a half days, and then to one day. Now the bridegroom remains the first night at the bride’s house, and then takes her to his home. Before they leave, a cocoanut, the outer husk of which has been removed, is placed on a stool of pala wood, and one of the bridegroom’s party must smash it with his fist. Some of the more orthodox in North Malabar observe the formality of examining horoscopes, and a ceremony equivalent to the conjee-drinking ceremony which has been described, called achara kaliana, and the payment of kanam in the shape of forty-one fanams, instead of forty-two as in South Malabar. In connection with fanams it may be noted that the old gold fanam is reckoned as worth four annas, whereas five silver or velli fanams make a rupee. Everywhere in rural Malabar, calculations are made in terms of velli fanams thus:—

• 10 pice (1/12 of an anna) = 1 velli.
• 5 vellis = 1 rupee.

Bazaar men, and those who sell their small stock at the weekly markets all about the country, arrange their prices in vellis.

When the death of a Tiyan is expected, all the relations draw near, and await the fateful moment. The person who is about to die is laid on the floor of the middle room, for it is inauspicious to die on a cot. We will suppose that the dying man is a parent and a landlord. Each of the sons and daughters gives him a little conjee water, just before he passes away. At the moment of death, all the women bawl out in lamentations, giving the alarm of death. The Cheruman serfs in the fields join in the chorus, and yell out an unintelligible formula of their own. Absent relations are all formally invited. From the houses of the son’s wife and daughter’s husband are sent quantities of jak fruits, unripe plantains, and cocoanuts, as death gifts. One half of the husks of the cocoanuts is removed, and the other half left on the shell. After the cremation or burial, these articles are distributed among those present by the Tandan, who receives an extra share for his trouble. When life is extinct, the body is placed with the head to the south, and the thumbs and big toes are tied together. It is then taken out into the yard, washed, bathed in oil, dressed in a new cloth, and brought back to the middle room. A cocoanut is cut in two, and the two halves, with a lighted wick on each, are placed at the head and foot. The house-owner spreads a cotton cloth over the corpse, and all the relations, and friends, do the same. Any one who wishes to place a silk cloth on the corpse may do so, but he must cover it with a cotton cloth. The body is then removed for burial or cremation, and placed near the grave or funeral pyre. It is the rural rule that elderly persons and karnavans of tarwads are cremated, and others buried. The barber, whose function it is to perform the purificatory rites, now removes, and retains as his perquisite, all the cloths, except the last three covering the corpse. As it is being borne away to the place of burial or cremation, water mixed with cow-dung is sprinkled behind it in the yard. The eldest son, who succeeds to the property and is responsible for the funeral ceremonies, then tears crosswise a piece of the cloth which has been placed over the corpse by the people of the house, and ties it round his forehead. He holds one end of the cloth while the barber holds the other, and tears off the piece. The barber then cuts three holes in the remainder of this cloth covering the body, over the mouth, navel, and pubes. A little water and rice are poured over a gold fanam through the slit over the mouth. All who observe the death pollution, i.e., sons, grandsons, nephews, younger brothers and cousins, offer water and rice in the same manner, and walk three times round the grave or pyre. The barber then breaks a pot of water over the grave. No other ceremonial is observed on this day, on which, and during the night, rice must not be eaten. If the body has been cremated, a watch is kept at the burning ground for five days by Panans, who beat drums all night to scare away the evil spirits which haunt such spots. Early on the second day, all who are under pollution are shaved. The operation is attended with some ceremonial, and, before it is commenced, a lighted lamp, a measure of rice and paddy on a plantain leaf must be at hand. The paddy and rice are a perquisite of the barber. Those who have been shaved bathe, and then follows the crow-feeding ceremony. Rice is boiled in a bell-metal vessel over a hearth prepared with three young cocoanuts. The eldest son, who tore the cloth of succession from the corpse, makes the rice into two little balls, places them on a plantain leaf, and offers them to the spirit of the departed by pouring libations of water on them over a blade of karuka grass. Men and women who are under pollution then do the same. The rice balls are eaten by crows. This little ceremony is performed daily until the eleventh or thirteenth day, when the period of death pollution comes to an end. If the eleventh day happens to fall on a Tuesday or Friday, or on any inauspicious day, the period is extended to the thirteenth day. When the period of death pollution is partly in one month, and partly in another, another death in the house within the year is expected. Preceding the sanchayanam, which occupies the fifth day, there is the lamp-watching on the previous night. In the south-east corner of the middle room, a little paddy is heaped up, and on it is placed a bell-metal plate with an iron lamp having five or seven lighted wicks on it. Under the lamp is a little cow-dung, and close to it is a bunch of cocoanut flowers. The lamp must be kept burning until it is extinguished on the following day. In the case of the death of a male, his niece watches the lamp, and in that of a female her daughter, lying near it on a grass mat. The sanchayanam is the first stage in the removal of death pollution, and, until it is over, all who come to the house suffer from pollution, and cannot enter their own house or partake of any food without bathing previously. When the body has been cremated, the fragments of calcined bones are collected from the ashes, and carried in procession to the sea, or, if this is far away, into a river. The members of the family under pollution then rub their bodies all over with oil, and the barber sprinkles a mixture of cow’s milk over their heads, using a blade of karuka grass as a spout. They then bathe, and the eldest son alone observe mattu. The crow-feeding ceremony follows, and, when this is over, the three cocoanuts which were used as a hearth are thrown away. A large bell-metal vessel filled with water is now placed in the front yard before the door of the house. The barber carries the still burning lamp from the middle room, and sets it on the ground near the pot of water. The women who are under pollution come from the middle room, each carrying a lighted wick, walk thrice round the pot, and throw the wicks into the water. The woman who has watched the lamp puts four annas into the pot, and the others deposit a few pies therein. The eldest son now lights a wick from the iron lamp which is about to be extinguished, and with it lights a lamp in the middle room. The barber then dips the iron lamp in the water, and picks out the money as his perquisite. The water is poured on the roots of a cocoanut tree. The bell-metal vessel becomes the property of the woman who watched the lamp, but she cannot take it away until she leaves the house after the pula-kuli ceremony. When the lamp has been extinguished, a woman, hired for the occasion, is seated on a cocoanut leaf in the front yard. The Tandan pours oil on her head three times, and she receives a little betel and two annas. She rises, and leaves the place without turning back, taking the pollution with her. Betel is then distributed. Those who provided the death gifts on the day of the death must on this day bring with them a bag of rice, and about four rupees in money. They have also to give eight annas to the barber. A folded handkerchief is first presented to the barber, who formally returns it, and receives instead of it the eight annas. Before the people disperse, the day of the pula-kuli is settled. Pula-kuli, or washing away the pollution, is the final ceremony for putting off the unpleasant consequences of a death in a family. First of all, the members thereof rub themselves all over with oil, and are sprinkled by the barber with cow’s milk and gingelly oil. They then bathe. The barber outlines the figure of a man or woman, according to the sex of the deceased, with rice flour and turmeric powder, the head to the south, in the middle room of the house. The figure is covered with two plantain leaves, on each of which a little rice and paddy are heaped. Over all is spread a new cloth, with a basket containing three measures of paddy upon it. The eldest son (the heir) sits facing the south, and with a nazhi measures out the paddy, which he casts to the south, east, and west—not the north. He repeats the performance, using the fingers of the left hand closed so as to form a cup as a measure. Then, closing the first and fourth fingers firmly with the thumb, using the left hand, he measures some paddy in the same manner with the two extended fingers. Rice is treated in the same way. A nazhi of paddy, with a lighted wick over it, is then placed in a basket. The eldest son takes the nazhi in his left hand, passes it behind his body, and, receiving it with his right hand, replaces it in the basket. The wick is extinguished by sprinkling it with water three times. At the head of the figure on the floor is placed a clean cloth—the washerman’s mattu. It is folded, and within the folds are three nazhis of rice. On the top of it a cocoanut is placed. In the four corners a piece of charcoal, a little salt, a few chillies, and a gold fanam are tied. The eldest son, who is always the protagonist in all the ceremonies after death, lifts the cloth with all its contents, places it on his head, and touches with it his forehead, ears, each side and loins, knees and toes. He does this three times. The plantain leaves are then removed from the figure. A little turmeric powder is taken from the outline, and rubbed on the forehead of the eldest son. He then bows thrice to the figure, crossing his legs and arms so that the right hand holds the left ear, and the left the right ear, and touches the ground with the elbow-joints. It is no joke to do this. All this time, the eldest son wears round his forehead the strip torn from the cloth which covered the corpse. There is nothing more to be done in the middle room for the present, and the eldest son goes out into the yard, and cooks the rice for the final feed to the crows. Three nazhis of this rice must be pounded and prepared for cooking by the woman who watched the lamp on the fourth night after death. Having cooked the rice, the eldest son brings it into the middle room, and mixes it with some unrefined sugar, plantains and pappadams, making two balls, one large and one small. Each of these he places on a plantain leaf. Then some puja is done to them, and offerings of rice are made over a gold fanam. The balls are given to the crows in the yard, or, in some cases, taken to the sea or a river, and cast into the water. When this course is adopted, various articles must be kept ready ere the return of the party. These comprise a new pot containing water, a branch of areca blossoms, mango leaves, a kindi containing a gold fanam or gold ring, a little salt and rice, each tied up in a piece of cloth, and a few chillies. The mouth of the pot is covered with a plantain leaf, and secured. There are also two stools, made of pala and mango wood. The eldest son sits on one of these, and places his feet on the other, so that he does not touch the ground. The water in the pot is sprinkled with mango leaves by the barber to the north, south, east and west, and on the head of the son. The remainder of the water is then poured over his head. The barber then sprinkles him with cocoanut water, this time using areca blossoms, and makes him sip a little thereof. The barber makes a hole in the plantain leaf, and picks out the contents. The eldest son bathes, and after the bath there is a presentation of gifts. The barber, sitting in the verandah beside the son, first gives to each person under pollution a little salt and raw rice, which they eat. He then gives them a little betel leaf and a small piece of areca nut, and receives in return a quarter of an anna. The eldest son chews the betel which he has received, and spits into a spittoon held by the barber, whose property it becomes. Then to the barber, who has been presented with a new mat to sit on and new cloth to wear before he seats himself in the verandah, are given an ear-ring such as is worn by Tiyan women, a silk cloth, a white cotton cloth, and a few annas. If the deceased has been cremated he is given six fanams, and, if buried, five fanams as the fee for his priestly offices. On an occasion of this kind, several barbers, male and female, turn up in the hope of receiving presents. All who help during the various stages of the ceremonial are treated in much the same way, but the senior barber alone receives the officiating fee. It is odd that the barbers of the four surrounding villages are entitled to receive gifts of new cloths and money. Those under death pollution are forbidden to eat fish or flesh, chew betel, or partake of jaggery. The restriction is removed on the pula-kuli day. The last act for their removal is as follows. The barber is required to eat some jaggery, and drink some conjee. After this, the eldest son, the Tandan, and a neighbour, sit on a mat spread in the middle of the house, and formally partake of conjee and jaggery. The pula-kuli is then over.

It is a sacred duty to a deceased person who was one of importance, for example the head of a family, to have a silver image of him made, and arrange for it being deposited in some temple, where it will receive its share of puja (worship), and offerings of food and water. The new-moon day of the months Karkitakam (July-August), Tulam (October-November), and Kumbham (February-March) is generally selected for doing this. The temples at Tirunelli in Wynad and Tirunavayi, which are among the oldest in Malabar, were generally the resting-places of these images, but now some of the well-to-do deposit them much further afield, even at Benares and Ramesvaram. A silver image is presented to the local Siva temple, where, for a consideration, puja is done every new-moon day. On each of these days, mantrams are supposed to be repeated a thousand times. When the image has been the object of these mantrams sixteen thousand times, it is supposed to have become eligible for final deposit in a temple. It is this image which rests in the temple at Tirunavayi, or elsewhere.

An annual sradh ceremony is performed for the sake of the spirit of the deceased, at which crows are fed in the manner already described, and relations are fed. On the night of this day, some sweetmeats or cakes, such as the deceased was fond of during life, are offered to the spirit. A lamp is placed on a stool, and lighted in the middle room of the house, with a kindi of water and a young cocoanut near it. The cakes or sweetmeats are placed in front of the stool. Children sprinkle rice over it, and the door is shut for a quarter of an hour. The individual who feeds the crows should partake of only one meal, without fish or flesh, on the previous day. Another ceremony, which is necessary for the repose of the dead, is called badha-velichatu-variethal, or bringing out the spirit. It cannot be performed until at least a year after death, for during that period the spirit is in a sort of purgatory. After that, it may be invoked, and it will answer questions. The ceremony resembles the nelikala pregnancy ceremony. The performers are Panans or washermen. Some little girls are seated in front of a booth in the yard. The celebrant of the rite sings, invoking the spirit of the deceased. Late at night, one of the girls becomes possessed by the spirit, and, it is said, talks and acts just like the deceased, calling the children, relations and friends by name, talking of the past, and giving commands for the future conduct of the living members of the family. After this, the spirit is severed from earthly trammels, and attains heavenly bliss.

The wood used for the purpose of cremation is that of a mango tree, which must be cut down after the death. A little sandalwood and cuscus (grass) roots are sometimes added to the pyre. In these days, when the important and interesting features of ceremonial are fast disappearing, it is not surprising that dried cakes of cow-dung are superseding the mango wood.

Among other ceremonies, there is one called kutti puja, which is performed when a newly built house is taken charge of. Vastu Purusha is the name of the supreme being which, lying on its back with its head to the north-east and legs to the south-west, supports the earth. Or rather the earth is but a small portion of this vast body. Forests are its tiny hairs, oceans its blood-vessels, and the wind its breath. In this body are fifty-three deities, who are liable to disturbance when the surface of the earth is dug, when trees are felled, foundations laid, and a house built. These angry beings must be propitiated, or there will be untimely deaths, poverty, and sickness among the inmates. The ceremony is performed in the following manner. A square with fifty-three columns is made with rice flour in the middle room of the house, and each column is filled with yellow, red, and black powder. A plantain leaf is placed over it, and a few measures of paddy are set on the top of the leaf. On this is placed another leaf, with various kinds of grain, plantains, cocoanuts, and jaggery on it. The carpenter, who is the architect and builder of the house, then performs puja with flowers, incense and lights, and the troublesome imp-spirit Gulikan is propitiated with toddy and arrack, and a fowl which is decapitated for him. Then all the workmen—carpenters, masons, and coolies—walk thrice round the house, breaking cocoanuts on the walls and doors, and howling in order to drive away all evil spirits which may by chance be lurking about the place. After this, they are all fed until they cry out “We are satisfied, and want no more.” They are given cloths and other presents, and the chief feature of the ceremony takes place. This is the formal handing over of the house by the carpenter. He hands it over to a third person, and never directly to the owner. It is not always easy to find a third person who is willing to undertake the responsibility, and who is at the same time suitable for the Gulikan who is dispossessed of the house, and pursues him henceforth, following him who first receives charge of the house. He should be a man who brings luck, cheerful and contented, having a family, and not labouring under any disorder or sickness of body. There is, or was a few years ago, an old Nayar living not far from Calicut, who was much sought after to fulfil the functions of third person on these occasions, and all the houses he received prospered. The third person is generally a poor man, who is bribed with presents of cloths, money and rice, to undertake the job. He wears one of the new cloths during the ceremony. When the carpenter’s ceremonies have been completed, this man is taken to the middle room of the house, and made to stand facing the door, with each foot on a plantain leaf. Pieces of the thatch are tied to the four corners of his cloth. He shuts the door, opens it, and shuts it again. The carpenter calls from without, asking him whether he has taken charge of the house. He replies evasively “Have the carpenters and workmen received all their wages? If they have, I take charge of the house.” The carpenter does not answer the question, for, if he did so, the mischief would be transferred to him through the house-owner. So he says “I did not ask you about my wages. Have you taken charge of the house?” The man inside answers as before, adding “otherwise not.” The carpenter again says “I did not ask you about my wages. Answer me straight. Have you, or have you not taken charge of the house?” The man inside replies “I have taken charge of the house,” and opens the door. Taking in his hands the plantain leaves on which he stood, he runs away as fast as he can without looking back. This he must not do on any account. The people pelt him with plantains, and hoot at him as he runs, and water mingled with cow-dung is sprinkled in his path. After all this, cow’s milk is boiled with a little rice in the house, of which every one partakes, and the owner assumes charge of his house.

In the pre-British days, a few of the well-to-do families of Tiyans lived in houses of the kind called nalapura (four houses), having an open quadrangle in the centre. But, for the most part, the Tiyans—slaves of the Nayars and Nambutiris—lived in a one-roomed thatched hut. Nowadays, the kala pura usually consists of two rooms, east and west.

Toddy-drawing, and every thing connected with the manufacture and sale of arrack (country liquor) and unrefined sugar, form the orthodox occupation of the Tiyan. But members of the community are to be found in all classes of society, and in practically all professions and walks of life. It is interesting to find that the head of a Tiyan family in North Malabar bears the title Cherayi Panikar, conferred on the family in the old days by a former Zamorin. A title of this kind was given only to one specially proficient in arms. Even in those days there were Tiyan physicians, bone-setters, astrologers, diviners, and sorcerers.

It is easy to identify the toddy-tapper by the indurated skin of the palms, fingers, inner side of the forearms, and the instep. The business of toddy-tapping involves expert climbing, while carrying a considerable paraphernalia, with no adventitious aid other than can be got out of a soft grummet of coir to keep the feet near together, while the hands, with the arms extended, grasp the palm tree. The profession is rarely adopted before the age of eighteen, but I have seen a man who said he began when he was twelve years old. It is very hard work. A tapper can work about fifteen trees, each of which he has to climb three times a day. In the northern districts of the Madras Presidency, among the Telugu population, the toddy-drawers use a ladder about eight or nine feet in length, which is placed against the tree, to avoid climbing a third or a fourth of it. While in the act of climbing up or down, they make use of a wide band, which is passed round the body at the small of the back, and round the tree. This band is easily fastened with a toggle and eye. The back is protected by a piece of thick soft leather. It gives great assistance in climbing, which it makes easy. All over the southernmost portion of the peninsula, among the Shanans and Tiyans, the ladder and waist-band are unknown. They climb up and down with their hands and arms, using only the grummet on the feet. The Tiyan toddy-tapper’s equipment consists of a short-handled hatchet, about seven inches square, of thin iron, sheathed in a wooden case, and fastened to a waist-belt composed of several strings of coir yarn, to which is hung a small pot of gummy substance obtained by bruising the leaves of the aichil plant. A vessel holding a couple of gallons, made out of the spathe of the areca palm, is used for bringing down the toddy. Tucked into the waist-belt is a bone loaded with lead at either end, which is used for tapping the palm to bring out the juice. A man once refused to sell at any price one of these bones—the femur of a sambar (Cervus unicolor), which had such virtue that, according to its owner, it would fetch palm juice out of any tree. The garb of the tapper at work consists of a short cloth round the loins, and (always during the rains, and often at other times) a head-covering somewhat pointed in shape, made of the leaves of the cocoanut palm placed together as in a clinker-built boat, or of a rounded shape, made out of the spathe of the areca palm. The toddy-tapper should go through the show of reverence by touching the cocoanut tree with the right hand, and then applying his hand to the forehead, every time he prepares to climb a tree.

In connection with toddy-drawing, the following note occurs in the Gazetteer of Malabar. “The tapper and the toddy shopkeeper are generally partners, the former renting the trees, paying the tree-tax, and selling the toddy at fixed prices to the latter. Sometimes the shopkeeper pays both rent and tax, and the tapper is his servant paid by the bottle. The trees are rented half yearly, and the rent varies between Re. 1 and Re. 1–8–0 per tree. They are fit for tapping as soon as they come into bearing, but four years later and in the succeeding decade are most productive. They are seldom tapped for more than six months in the year, and the process, though it shortens the life of the tree, improves the yield of nuts in the rest of the year. The tapper’s outfit is neither costly nor elaborate. A knife in a wooden case, a bone weighted with lead (the leg bone of a sambhur for choice), a few pots, and two small rings of rope with which to climb complete the tale. Operations begin when the spathe is still enclosed by its sheath. Once a day the spathe is gently bruised on either side with the bone, and on the third and following days a thin slice is cut off the end twice a day. On the fifteenth day drawing begins, and the bruising ceases. Sheath and spathe are swathed for the greater part of their length in a thick covering of leaves or fibre; the ends are still cut off twice or three times a day, but, after each operation, are smeared with a paste made of leaves and water with the object, it is said, of keeping the sap from oozing through the wound and rotting the spathe. The leaves used for this purpose are those of the Éechal or vetti tree, which are said to be one and the same (Aporosa Lindleyana); but in British Cochin, where the tree does not grow, backwater mud is utilised. Round the space between the end of the sheath and the thick covering of leaves a single leaf is bound, and through this the sap bleeds into a pot fastened below. The pot is emptied once a day in the morning. The yield of sap varies with the quality of the tree and the season of the year. In the hot months the trees give on an average about a bottle a day, in the monsoon and succeeding months as much as three bottles. In the gardens along the backwaters, south of Chettuvayi, Messrs. Parry & Co. consider that in a good year they should get a daily average of three bottles or half a gallon of toddy per tree. A bottle of toddy sells for three or four pies.”

Tiya females at a coir factory.

In connection with the coir industry, it is noted, in the Gazetteer of Malabar, that “the husks of the cocoanuts are buried in pits as near as possible to the waterline of rivers, backwaters and creeks, and are left to soak for six months, a year, or even eighteen months—the longer the better. The colour of the yarn, and thereby the quality, depends very much on the water in which the husks are steeped. It should be running water, and, if possible, fresh water. If the water be salt, the yarn may at first be almost white, but in a damp climate it soon becomes discoloured and blotchy. As soon as the husks are taken out of the pits, the fibre is beaten out with short sticks by Tiyattis (Tiyan females) and women of the Vettuvan caste. It is dried in the sun for twelve hours, and is then ready for sale to native merchants at Calicut and Cochin, who in their turn deal with the European firms. The fibre is twisted into yarn by Tiyattis and other women, and in that form the greater part of the coir made in Malabar is exported from Cochin to all parts of the world, but chiefly to the United Kingdom and Germany.”

It has been said that “in North Malabar the preparation of coir is a regular cottage industry of the most typical kind. Throughout the year, wherever one goes, one hears the noise of the women hammering out the fibre, and sees them taking, in the evening, that part of it which they have rolled into yarn to the nearest little wayside shop, to be exchanged for salt, chillies, paddy, etc. But, in the north of the district, nothing of the kind goes on, and the coir is commonly used as fuel.”

It has been already stated that marumakkatayam, or inheritance through nephews, is the invariable rule in North Malabar, being followed even by the Muhammadan Mappillas. In South Malabar, where the Tiyans do not observe marumakkatayam, the property devolves through the sons. All sons share alike. Daughters have no share. The practice of polyandry, which still exists in Malabar among the Tiyans (and other classes), and which was probably once general, tends to prevent dispersion of the family property. Although theoretically all sons share the property of their father, it is the eldest son who succeeds to possession and management of the tarwad property. The others are entitled to maintenance only, so long as they remain in the same tarwad house. It is the same among the Izhuvans.

Beef, as in the case of all Hindus, is forbidden as an article of diet. The staple food is rice with fish curry. The common beverage is conjee, but this is being supplanted by tea, coffee, lemonade, and soda-water.

A loin-cloth, which should not reach to the knees, with a Madras handkerchief on the shoulders, is the orthodox dress of the males, and a double loin-cloth that of females. Women were not allowed to wear anything above the waist, except when under death pollution. Any colour might be worn, but white and blue are most common. A ring, composed of hollow gold beads, called mani-kathila, is the proper ornament for a Tiyan woman’s ear. Twenty or thirty, with a pendant in the middle, might be worn. Gold or silver bracelets could be worn. Hollow silver bracelets were worn by girls until the birth of their first child. But times have changed, and nowadays Tiyan women wear the ornaments which, strictly speaking, appertain to Nayar and Brahman women. Their mode of tying the hair, and even their dress, which is inclined to follow the fashion of the Christians, has changed. In olden days, a Tiyan woman could wear an ornament appropriate for a Nayar on a special occasion, but only with the permission of the Nayar landlord, obtained through the Tandan, on payment of a fee.

In North Malabar a good round oath is upon Perumal Iswaran, the God of the shrine at Kotiyur. In South Malabar it is common to swear by Kodungallur Bhagavati, or by Guruvayur Appan, local deities.

The Tandan is the principal person in the tara, to decide all caste disputes. In South Malabar, he is, as a rule, appointed by the senior Rani of the Zamorin. A fee of anything up to 101 fanams (Rs. 25–4–0) must be paid to this lady, when she appoints a Tandan. When there is a problem of any special difficulty, it is referred to her for decision. In territories other than those within the power of the Zamorin, the local Raja appoints the Tandan, and gives the final decision in special cases. As we have seen, the Tiyan is always to some extent subordinate to a Nayar overlord, but he is not bound to any particular one. He can go where he likes, and reside anywhere, and is not bound to any particular chief, as is the Nayar. It is noted by General E. F. Burton,26 in connection with bygone days, that “such was the insolent pride of caste that the next (and very respectable) class of Hindus, the Teers, were not allowed to come near the Nairs, under penalty of being cut down by the sword, always naked and ready.”

In connection with the religion of the Tiyans, I may commence with an old tradition, which is no doubt from a Brahmanic source. Once upon a time there were seven heavenly damsels, who used to bathe every day before dawn in a lake situated in a forest. Siva found this out, and appeared as a fire on the bank, at which the girls warmed themselves. Having thus lured them, the God made all of them mothers. Seven beautiful boys were born, and Siva presented them to Parvati, who treated them as if they were her own sons. They were taken to mount Kailasa, and employed in preparing toddy for the mysterious and wonderful Sakti worship. Daily they brought the toddy at the moment when it was required for the golden pot. Parvati embraced the boys all at once, and they became one. On a certain day, this boy sent the sacred toddy in charge of a Brahman, who became curious to know the virtues of the mysterious liquid. As he rested on a river bank thinking about it, he drank a little, and filled the vessel up with water. Then he reached Kailasa too late for the daily worship. Siva was angry, and ordered the Saunika boy (Parvati’s name for him) to be brought before him. But the boy had been told what had happened, and cut off the head of the Brahman, who had confessed to him. Seeing the boy coming along carrying a Brahman’s head, Siva was astonished, and commanded him to approach nearer. The boy explained that it was not a heinous crime to cut off the head of one who had prevented the Sakti worship. Siva said that the killing of a Brahman was the worst of crimes, and put the perpetrator out of caste. He would not listen to the boy, who replied that whoever prevented Sakti worship was a Chandala, and condemned him. The boy asked for death at Siva’s hands. The request pleased the God, who forgave him. The boy had to remain out of caste, but was initiated into the mysteries of Sakti worship as the surest means of salvation, and to him was given the exclusive privilege of performing Sakti worship with liquor. He was commanded to follow, and imitate the Brahmans in everything, except in the matter of repeating the sacred mantrams. By tantrams (signs with the hands) he eventually obtained the merit of making puja with mantrams. He was the first Tiyan.

It is pretty safe to say that all the ideas of the Tiyans connected with pure Hinduism—the Hinduism of the Vedas—and of tradition, of which we see very little in Southern India, and which in Malabar is more perverted in confused ideas than perhaps elsewhere, those relating to re-birth, karma, pilgrimages to Benares and distant temples are borrowed from the Brahmans. In the ceremonies which have been described, notably in those connected with marriage and death, we have seen the expression of many Hindu ideas. Not so is all that relates to offerings to the dead. That is the common property of all the children of men.

A main feature in the religion of the Tiyan is that it is largely connected with Sakti worship. Some Brahmans indulge therein, but they are unable, like the Tiyans, to use arrack in connection with it, and are obliged to use, instead of this requisite, milk or honey. Siva, not exactly a Vedic entity, and Sakti, are supposed to be the two primordial and eternal principles in nature. Sakti is, perhaps, more properly the vital energy, and Sakti worship the worship of the life principle in nature. We are not considering the abstract meaning of the term Sakti; nor are we now thinking of the Siva of Monier Williams or Max MÜller. We are in Malabar, where the Hinduism of the Vedas is in almost hopeless confusion, and mingled with animism and nearly every other kind of primitive religious idea. It is not therefore at all an easy task to represent in words anything like a rational conception of what the religion of the Tiyan really is. The poor and ignorant follow, in a blind ignorant way, Hinduism as they know it and feel it. Their Hinduism is very largely imbued with the lower cult, which, with a tinge of Hinduism, varied in extent here and there, is really the religion of the people at large all over Southern India. The Tiyans have a large share of it. To the actions of evil and other spirits are attributable most, if not all of the ills and joys of life. The higher Hinduism is far above them. Nevertheless, we find among them the worship of the obscure and mysterious Sakti, which, unfortunately, is practiced in secret. Nobody seems to be in the least proud of having anything to do with it. In fact, they are rather ashamed to say anything about it. Those who, so to speak, go in for it are obliged to undergo preliminary purificatory ceremonies, before the great mystery can be communicated to them. The mantram, which is whispered by the guru (religious preceptor) in the ear of the devotee is said to be “Brahma aham, Vishnu aham, Bhairavu aham” (I am Brahma, I am Vishnu, I am Bhairavan). It is believed that each individual is a spark of the divinity. Having in him the potentiality of the Supreme Being, he can develop, and attain godhood. There is no distinction of caste in Sakti worship. The devotees may belong to the highest or to the lowest castes, though I doubt very much whether the Nambutiri Brahmans indulge in it. The novices, of whatever caste, eat and drink together during the period of puja. Men and women participate in the secret rites. A solemn oath is taken that the mystery of Sakti will not be revealed, except with the permission of the guru, or on the death-bed. The spirit of the goddess (for Sakti is thought of as the female principle) must be withdrawn from the body of the Sakti worshipper when he is at the point of death. A lamp is lighted beside him. A few leaves of the tulsi plant (Ocimum sanctum), a little rice, and a lighted wick are given to the dying man. Holding these things, he makes three passes over his body from head to foot, and, as it were, transfers the spirit to the next man, at the same time communicating his wishes about continuing the worship, and so on. When a man dies before this separation or transfer has been accomplished, a Brahman must be called in, who, with a silver image representing the deceased, makes symbolic transference of the Sakti spirit. It must be done somehow, or the soul of the deceased cannot attain salvation. It is said that, like many other things in this land, Sakti worship has undergone degeneration, that such lofty ideas and feelings as may have once pervaded it have more or less disappeared, and that the residue is not very edifying. Be this as it may, in every tara there is a Bhagavati temple for Tiyans, where Tiyans officiate as priests. The Komaram (oracle) of the Bhagavati temple is clothed in red, and embellished with red sandal paste mixed with turmeric. Bhagavati is always associated with various jungle spirits or gods, whose Komarams always wear black. There is no daily worship in Tiyan temples, with the exception of a few in the neighbourhood of Cannanore. But there is an annual celebration of puja during the mannalam (forty day) period, commencing on the first of the month Vrischikam (15th November). Lamps are lighted, and worship is begun on this day, and continued for forty days. At its conclusion, the jungle gods retire to the jungle until the next year. A death in the family of a Komaram involves, I believe, some postponement of the rites. The period is supposed to be first part of the functional activity of the earth, which ends somewhere about the 21st of June. It is during this period that Sakti worship is carried on.

The temple of Subramania at Palni in the Madura district is a favourite objective for Tiyan pilgrims. The subject of pilgrimages to this temple has been touched on in my note on the Nayars (see Nayar). The Bhagavati temple at Kodungallur in Cochin territory on the coast is another favourite place of pilgrimage among the Tiyans. All classes of people, with the exception of Brahmans, undertake this pilgrimage. Everyone under a vow, proceeding to the festival, which takes place in February or March, carries with him a cock, which is beheaded at the shrine. Under the Perumals, pilgrimage to Kodungallur was somewhat compulsory. This temple was a fruitful source of revenue to the State, for not only the Tiyans, but the fisherman and artisan castes had their own temple in every tara in the land, and the Muppan—the Komaram—of each temple was under an obligation to contribute yearly gifts to the temple at Kodungallur. Rent for the temple lands was set at a nominal figure—a mere pepper-corn rent as acknowledgment of sovereign right. Rent might not be paid in times of trouble, but the gifts eked out of superstition were unfailing. It is not surprising, therefore, that learning and advancement among the inferior castes did not receive much encouragement from the rulers of those days.

The temple of Kotiyur in North Malabar is also a shrine to which Tiyans make pilgrimage. Indeed, it may be said that they follow Hinduism generally in rather a low form, and that Sakti worship is perhaps more peculiarly theirs than others’, owing to their being able to use arrack, a product of the palm, and therefore of their own particular mÉtier. The highest merit in Sakti can be reached only through arrack. The Sakti goddess, Bhagavati, the Tiyans look upon as their own guardian spirit.

As instancing the mixture and confusion of religious ideas in Malabar, it may be mentioned that Mappillas have been known to indulge in Sakti worship, and Tiyans to have made vows, and given offerings at Mappilla mosques and Christian churches. Vows to the well-known mosque at Mambram are made by people of almost every caste. It is not uncommon to present the first fruit of a jak tree, or the milk of a cow when it brings forth its first calf, to the local Tangal or Mappilla priest.

In many, perhaps in most Tiyan houses, offerings are made annually to a bygone personage named Kunnath Nayar, and to his friend and disciple Kunhi Rayan, a Mappilla. It is probable that they excelled in witchcraft and magic, but, according to the story, the Nayar worshipped the kite until he obtained command and control over all the snakes in the land. The offerings are made in order to prevent accidents from snakes. The snake god will also give children to the family, and promote domestic prosperity. Men without offspring worship him. Leprosy and the death of a child are believed to be the consequence of killing a snake. There are Mappilla devotees of Kunnath Nayar and Kunhi Rayan, who exhibit snakes in a box, and collect alms. There is a snake mosque near Manarghat, at the foot of the Nilgiri hills, which has its annual festival. The alms are collected ostensibly for this mosque.

An interesting story, which is the legendary account of the exodus of the artisans from Malabar, and their return with the Tiyans, is narrated by the Panans. There were, in olden times, five recognised classes, which includes the Asaris (carpenters), Musaris (workers in bell-metal), Thattans (goldsmiths), and Perin-Kollans (blacksmiths). The fifth class is unknown. When an individual of the artisan classes dies, the Panan of the tara must bring a death gift to the house, which consists of cocoanuts and jak fruits or plantains. The Panan places the gift in the yard and repeats a long formula, which he has learnt by heart. It is very likely that he knows little or nothing of its meaning. But he reels it off, and at its conclusion the gifts are accepted. The same formula is also always repeated among the carpenters, goldsmiths, and blacksmiths during wedding and tali-tying ceremonies. It relates how the artisans deserted the land of Cheraman Perumal, and sought an asylum in the country of the Izhuvans with the island king, and how the Perumal sent the Panan to bring them back. Every one knows this old story, and believes it firmly. It must be learnt by heart, and the Panan gives it in the yard when a member of the artisan classes dies. The story is to the following effect. During the four Yugams, Kreta, Treta, Dwapara, and Kali, many kings reigned over the earth. Parasu Raman destroyed the Kshatriya kings on twenty-one occasions, and was obliged to make atonement in expiatory ceremonies. He worshipped Varuna, the ocean god, and recovered from the sea a hundred and sixty kathams of land, consisting of Kolanad (?), Venad (Travancore), Kanya Kumari (Cape Comorin), Cheranad, and Malayalam up to Changala Vazhi beyond the Anaimalai hills. Cheraman Perumal was the ruler of this land, in which were the four castes. His capital was at Tiruvanja Kolam. One day, Veluthedan27 Chiraman was washing the Perumal’s cloths in a tank. He beat the cloths on a stone which was flat on the ground, and held one of the cloths in his hand. A girl of the carpenter caste, Ayyesvari by name, was just then going to the tank to bathe after her monthly period. She called out “Ho! Kammal.28 That is not the way to wash cloths. Put a small stone under one end of your washing stone, so as to make it slope a little. Then hold both ends of the cloth in your hand, and beat the middle of the cloth on the stone.” The Veluthedan did so, and found that he washed better, and the cloths were whiter. The Perumal asked him “Were you not washing the cloths before? Who washed them to-day?” To which the Veluthedan replied “Oh! Tamburan (chief or lord), a carpenter girl instructed your slave to-day how to wash cloths properly. May Perumal be pleased to order the girl to be given to your slave as his wife.” Perumal then said “To whatever caste she may belong, you may take her by force, and will not lose your caste.” Having received the king’s permission, Veluthedan Chiraman concealed himself near the carpenter’s house, and, when the girl opened the door to sweep the yard at dawn, he seized her, and carried her off to his house. Carpenter Sankaran of Tiruvanja Kalam went to the Perumal, and complained that Veluthedan Kammal had carried away his daughter, and disgraced him. He asked the Perumal whether he would give him an armed guard to rescue her. To which the Perumal replied “I will not help either party with armed men. You must fight it out among yourselves.” Then the five classes of artisans consulted one another, and made common cause. The Panans, Perin Malayans, and Chen (red) Koravans joined the artisans. The Ven Thachans, Velans, Paravans, Vettuvans, Kanisan Panikars, and the Pandi Pulluvans of Vellalanad joined the other side. There was war for twelve years. In the end, the artisans were defeated. They said among themselves “We have been defeated by the fourteenth caste of Veluthedan Nayar, who carried away our daughter. Let us leave this country.” So 7,764 families, with the women and children, tied up their mats, and left Cheraman Perumal’s country, and went to Izhuva land, which was beyond it. They went before the Izhuva king (island king), and told him their story. Now Cheraman Perumal used to be shaved every fifteen days. When the barber (Velakathalavan) was sent for, he came without his knife (razor), as his wife had buried it. He said “Oh! Tamburan, have mercy on your slave. Your slave’s knife was given to the blacksmith to be mended, and he took it away with him. He gave me this piece of iron, saying “If you want the knife made ready for use, you must come to the Izhuva land for it, and we will mend it on our return.” So Perumal had to go without shaving, and his hair grew like a Rishi’s. As there were neither carpenters nor smiths to make implements, agriculture was almost at a standstill; and, as there were no goldsmiths, the tali-tying ceremonies could not be performed. Nor could the rice-giving ceremony be done, for want of the “neck-rings.” Then Cheraman Perumal obtained advice, and resolved to send the Mannan (washerman of the Tiyans), who was included in the fourteenth caste, and the Panan, who belonged to the eleventh caste. The Perumal gave to each of them a thousand fanams, and told them to go to the Izhuva country, and bring back the Kammalans (artisans). They wandered over various countries, stopping wherever they found a house. The Panan, being clever, was able to live by his wits, and spent no money of his own. The Mannan, on the contrary, spent all his money. They passed Ramapuri, and reached Trichivampuri. Then the Mannan asked the Panan for a loan, which was refused. On Friday at noon, the Mannan left the Panan, saying “The Panan is no companion for the Mannan.” He returned to the Perumal and reported his failure, and the Panan’s refusal to lend him money. The Panan went on, crossing rivers, canals, and ferries, and at last reached the Izhuva king’s country. He entered the reception hall. At that moment, the king’s goldsmith, who had just finished making a golden crown for him, had put it on his own head, to test its suitability for wearing. The Panan thought he was the king, and made obeisance to him. The Kammalans recognised him. He discovered his mistake too late, for he had addressed the goldsmith as Tamburan. So, to this day, the Panans, when addressing goldsmiths, say Tamburan. The Panan told the Kammalans of his mission, but they refused to return unless full reparation was made for the abduction of the carpenter girl, and certain social disabilities were removed. The 7,764 families of Kammalans asked the Izhuva king his advice, and he said that they should not go away. So the Kammalans sent the Panan back, and gave him the following presents, in order to demonstrate to the Perumal that they were in comfortable circumstances:—

• Gold valam-piri (a sort of string worn over the right shoulder);
• Silver edam-piri (a similar sort of string worn on the left shoulder);
• Gold netti-pattam (to be tied on the forehead);
• Gold bracelet;
• Gold ornament for the hair.

The Kammalans sent word to the Perumal that they would not return, unless they were given a girl in place of the carpenter’s daughter, who had been abducted, and certain privileges were granted to them. At the same time, they promised the Panan that they would share their privileges with him, if he was successful. So the Panan returned, and appeared before the Perumal, who asked him where the Kammalans were. The Panan removed his gold cap, and put it under his arm, and replied that they were prosperous, and not anxious to return. Saying so, he placed before the Perumal the rich presents given by the Kammalans, and told the king that they would not return, unless they were given a girl and certain concessions. The Perumal told the Panan to go back, and invite the Kammalans to return on their own terms. He said they would catch the first girl they met on the way to his palace, and all their demands were granted. The Panan arrived again in the Izhuva country, and told the Kammalans what the Perumal had said. They went to the Izhuva king, and obtained his permission to return to their own country. Then they caught an Izhuva boy, and confined him. The king asked them why they did so. They replied that they had lived for twelve years29 as his subjects, and would never recognise any other king, so they wanted the Izhuva boy to represent him. The king consented. When they started, the boy began to cry. A Nasrani,30 by name Thomma (Thomas), was taken to accompany and protect the boy. The Kammalans travelled to their own country, and appeared before Cheraman Perumal. On the way, they found a girl of the Variar caste plucking flowers, and caught her by the hand. All the five classes claimed her. At last it was resolved to unite her with the Izhuva boy, their Tandan, who represented their king, and treat her as their sister. Cheraman Perumal confirmed his promise, and granted the following privileges to the Kammalans:—

1. To make ceilings for their houses.

2. To make upstairs houses to live in.

3. To put up single staircases, consisting of one pole, in which notches are cut, or pegs are stuck alternately, for the feet.

4. To have a gate-house.

5. To perform the tali-tying ceremonies of their girls in a booth having four posts or supports; to place within it, on a stool, a looking-glass with a handle, and the Ramayana; and to place a silk cloth on the girl’s head.

6. To do arpu at the conclusion of the tali-tying ceremony (Vel! Arpu! is yelled out by the boys).

7. To cook rice in copper vessels on occasions of marriage and other ceremonies, and to serve sugar and pappadams at their feasts.

8. To hold the umbrella and taza (a sort of umbrella), which are carried in front of processions.

9. To clap hands, and dance.

10. To keep milch-cows for their own use.

Permission was further granted for the Kammalans to wear the following ornaments.

1. Netti-pattam, worn on the forehead during the tali-tying ceremony.

2. Ananthovi, a ear ornament named after Anandan, the endless, the serpent on which Vishnu reposes. The serpent is sometimes represented with its tail in its mouth, forming a circle, an endless figure. Ananthovi is the central pendant of the ear-ring worn by Tiyan women among their kathila (ordinary gold ear-rings). It resembles a serpent in form. It is worn by men of the Tiyan and artisan castes on special occasions.

3. Waist zone or girdle.

4. Bracelets.

5. Anklet with two knobs, formed of two pieces screwed together.

6. Puli-mothiram, or tiger’s claws mounted in gold, worn by children.

7. Podippu, a knot of cotton-thread at the end of the string on which coins are hung as ornaments.

8. Kalanchi, a gold knob above the podippu, which represents a flower.

9. Necklace.

10. Edakam and madkam-tali, neck ornaments, in one of which are set twenty-one stones.

11. Cotton thread above the gold thread on the neck.

The Perumal conferred like privileges upon the family (Tiruvarankath) of the Panan who brought back the Kammalans. He wore all his ornaments, and made his obeisance to the Perumal. He had, however, taken off his gold cap. The Perumal said “What you have removed, let it be removed.” So he lost the privilege of wearing a gold cap. The Perumal blessed the Kammalans, and they returned to their villages. They made a separate house for the Izhuva boy and the Variar girl, and maintained them. The Izhuva boy, who was the first Tiyan to come to Malabar, brought with him the cocoanut, and retained the right to cultivate and use it. To this day, the people of the serf castes—Cherumans, Kanakans, and the like—use the word Varian when addressing Tiyans, in reference to their descent from the Variar girl.

The orthodox number of classes of Kammalans is five. But the artisans do not admit the workers in leather as of their guild, and say there are only four classes. According to them, the fifth class was composed of the copper-smiths, who did not return to Malabar with the others, but remained in Izhuva land. Nevertheless, they always speak of themselves as the Aiyen kudi or five-house Kammalans.

There is a variant of the legend of the exodus, told by the Asaris (carpenters), which is worth narrating. Their version of the story is repeated among themselves, and not by the Panan, at every marriage and tali-tying ceremony. They identify the village of the Perumal’s washerman as Kanipayyur. This is the name of a Nambutiri’s illam in the Ponani taluk of Malabar. The Nambutiri is, it may be mentioned, considered to be the highest extant authority in architecture. Disputed points relating to this subject are referred to him, and his decision is final, and accepted by all carpenters and house-builders. The washerman’s stone is said to have been lying flat in the water. The girl Ayyesvari was also of Kanipayyur, and was carried off as in the former story. But there was no request for an armed guard to rescue her. The Perumal was, instead, asked to make the washerman marry her, and thus avoid disgrace. He consented to do so, and all the 7,764 families of the five classes of Kammalans assembled for the wedding. An immense booth, supported on granite pillars, was erected. The washerman and his party were fed sumptuously. But the booth had been so constructed that it could be made to collapse instantaneously. So the Kammalans went quietly outside, and, at a given signal, the booth collapsed, and crushed to death the washerman and his friends. After this, the Kammalans fled, and remained one year, eight months and eleven days in the Izhuva country. Negotiations were carried on through the Izhuva king, and the Kammalans returned under his guarantee that their demands would be complied with. The Izhuva king sent his own men and the Nasrani to the capital of the Perumal. The story of the exodus and the return was inscribed on granite stone with solemn rites, and in the presence of witnesses. This was buried at the northern gate of the Tiruvanchakulam temple on Friday, the eighth of the month of Kanni. It was resolved that, in any case of doubt, the stone should be unearthed. And it was only after all this had been done that the Izhuva king’s envoy returned to him. Then the Kammalans came back to Malabar. According to the carpenters, the copper-smiths did not return. They say that eighteen families of Asaris remained behind. Some of these returned long afterwards, but they were not allowed to rejoin the caste. They are known as Puzhi Tachan, or sand carpenters, and Patinettanmar, or the eighteen people. There are four families of this class now living at or near Parpangadi. They are carpenters, but the Asaris treat them as outcastes.

There is yet another variant of the story of the exodus, which is obviously of recent manufacture, for a Pattar Brahman is brought in, and gives cunning advice. We know that the Pattars are comparatively new comers in Malabar.

The Tiyans have recently been summed up as follows.31 “The Tiyas have always been characterised by their persevering and enterprising habits. A large percentage of them are engaged in various agricultural pursuits, and some of the most profitable industries of Malabar have from time out of mind been in their hands. They are exclusively engaged in making toddy and distilling arrack. Many of them are professional weavers, the Malabar mundu being a common kind of cloth made by them. The various industries connected with cocoanut cultivation are also successfully carried on by the Tiyas. For example, the manufacture of jaggery (crude sugar) is an industry in which a considerable number of the Tiyas are profitably engaged. The preparation of coir from cocoanut fibre is one of their hereditary occupations, and this is done almost wholly by their women at home. They are very skilful in the manufacture of coir matting and allied industries. Commercial pursuits are also common among them. Apart from their agricultural and industrial inclinations, the Tiyas give evidence of a literary taste, which is commendable in a people who are living under conditions which are anything but conducive to literary life. They have among them good Sanskrit scholars, whose contributions have enriched the Malayalam literature; physicians well versed in Hindu systems of medicine; and well-known astrologers, who are also clever mathematicians. In British Malabar, they have made considerable progress in education. In recent years, there has been gaining ground among the Tiyas a movement, which has for its object the social and material improvement of the community. Their leaders have very rightly given a prominent place to industry in their schemes of progress and reform. Organisations for the purpose of educating the members of the community on the importance of increased industrial efforts have been formed. The success which has attended the Industrial Exhibition conducted by the members of the community at Quilon, in 1905, has induced them to make it a permanent annual event. Some of their young men have been sent to Japan to study certain industries, and, on their return, they hope to resuscitate the dying local industries, and to enter into fresh fields of industry awaiting development. Factories for the manufacture of coir matting and allied articles have been established by the Tiyas in some parts of Travancore and Cochin.”

In 1906, the foundation stone of a Tiya temple at Tellicherry was laid with great ceremony. In the following year, a very successful Industrial Exhibition was held at Cannanore under the auspices of the Sri Narayan Dharma Paripalana Yogam. Still more recently, it was resolved to collect subscriptions for the establishment of a hostel for the use of Tiya youths who come from other places to Tellicherry for educational purposes.

Tiyoro.—The Tiyoros are described, in the Madras Census Report, 1901, as “Oriya fishermen, who also make lotus-leaf platters. They have four endogamous sections, viz., Torai, Ghodai, Artia, and Kulodondia.” It has been suggested that the caste name is a corruption of the Sanskrit tivara, a hunter. (See Risley, Tribes and Castes of Bengal, Tiyar.)

Toda.—Quite recently, my friend Dr. W. H. Rivers, as the result of a prolonged stay on the Nilgiris, has published32 an exhaustive account of the sociology and religion of this exceptionally interesting tribe, numbering, according to the latest census returns, 807 individuals, which inhabits the Nilgiri plateau. I shall, therefore, content myself with recording the rambling notes made by myself during occasional visits to Ootacamund and Paikara, supplemented by extracts from the book just referred to, and the writings of Harkness and other pioneers of the Nilgiris.

The Todas maintain a large-horned race of semi-domesticated buffaloes, on whose milk and its products (butter and ney)33 they still depend largely, though to a less extent than in bygone days before the establishment of the Ootacamund bazar, for existence. It has been said that “a Toda’s worldly wealth is judged by the number of buffaloes he owns. Witness the story in connection with the recent visit to India of His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales. A clergyman, who has done mission work among the Todas, generally illustrates Bible tales through the medium of a magic-lantern. One chilly afternoon, the Todas declined to come out of their huts. Thinking they required humouring like children, the reverend gentleman threw on the screen a picture of the Prince of Wales, explaining the object of his tour, and, thinking to impress the Todas, added ‘The Prince is exceedingly wealthy, and is bringing out a retinue of two hundred people.’ ‘Yes, yes,’ said an old man, wagging his head sagely, ‘but how many buffaloes is he bringing?’”

The Todas lead for the most part a simple pastoral life. But I have met with more than one man who had served, or who was still serving Government in the modest capacity of a forest guard, and I have heard of others who had been employed, not with conspicuous success, on planters’ estates. The Todas consider it beneath their dignity to cultivate land. A former Collector of the Nilgiris granted them some acres of land for the cultivation of potatoes, but they leased the land to the Badagas, and the privilege was cancelled. In connection with the Todas’ objection to work, it is recorded that when, on one occasion, a mistake about the ownership of some buffaloes committed an old Toda to jail, it was found impossible to induce him to work with the convicts, and the authorities, unwilling to resort to hard remedies, were compelled to save appearances by making him an overseer. The daily life of a Toda woman has been summed up as lounging about the mad or mand (Toda settlement), buttering and curling her hair, and cooking. The women have been described as free from the ungracious and menial-like timidity of the generality of the sex in the plains. When Europeans (who are greeted as swami or god) come to a mand, the women crawl out of their huts, and chant a monotonous song, all the time clamouring for tips (inam). Even the children are so trained that they clamour for money till it is forthcoming. As a rule, the Todas have no objection to Europeans entering into their huts, but on more than one occasion I have been politely asked to take my boots off before crawling in on the stomach, so as not to desecrate the dwelling-place. Writing in 1868, Dr. J. Shortt makes a sweeping statement that “most of the women have been debauched by Europeans, who, it is sad to observe, have introduced diseases to which these innocent tribes were once strangers, and which are slowly but no less surely sapping their once hardy and vigorous constitutions. The effects of intemperance and disease (syphilis) combined are becoming more and more apparent in the shaken and decrepit appearance which at the present day these tribes possess.” Fact it undoubtedly is, and proved both by hospital and naked-eye evidence, that syphilis has been introduced among the Todas by contact with the outside world, and they attribute the stunted growth of some members of the rising generation, as compared with the splendid physique of the lusty veterans, to the results thereof. It is an oft-repeated statement that the women show an absence of any sense of decency in exposing their naked persons in the presence of strangers. In connection with the question of the morality of the Toda women, Dr. Rivers writes that “the low sexual morality of the Todas is not limited in its scope to the relations within the Toda community. Conflicting views are held by those who know the Nilgiri hills as to the relations of the Todas with the other inhabitants, and especially with the train of natives which the European immigration to the hills has brought in its wake. The general opinion on the hills is that, in this respect, the morality of the Todas is as low as it well could be, but it is a question whether this opinion is not too much based on the behaviour of the inhabitants of one or two villages [e.g., the one commonly known as School or Sylk’s mand] near the European settlements, and I think it is probable that the larger part of the Todas remain more uncontaminated than is generally supposed.”

I came across one Toda who, with several other members of the tribe, was selected on account of fine physique for exhibition at Barnum’s show in Europe, America and Australia some years ago, and still retained a smattering of English, talking fondly of ‘Shumbu’ (the elephant Jumbo). For some time after his return to his hill abode, a tall white hat was the admiration of his fellow tribesmen. To this man finger-prints came as no novelty, since his impressions were recorded both in England and America.

Writing in 1870,34 Colonel W. Ross King stated that the Todas had just so much knowledge of the speech of their vassals as is demanded by the most ordinary requirements. At the present day, a few write, and many converse fluently in Tamil. The Nilgiri C.M.S. Tamil mission has extended its sphere of work to the Todas, and I cannot resist the temptation to narrate a Toda version of the story of Dives and Lazarus. The English say that once upon a time a rich man and a poor man died. At the funeral of the rich man, there was a great tamasha (spectacle), and many buffaloes were sacrificed. But, for the funeral of the poor man, neither music nor buffaloes were provided. The English believe that in the next world the poor man was as well off as the rich man; so that, when any one dies, it is of no use spending money on the funeral ceremonies. Two mission schools have been established, one at Ootacamund, the other near Paikara. At the latter I have seen a number of children of both sexes reading elementary Tamil and English, and doing simple arithmetic.

A few years ago a Toda boy was baptised at Tinnevelly, and remained there for instruction. It was hoped that he would return to the hills as an evangelist among his people.35 In 1907, five young Toda women were baptised at the C.M.S. Mission chapel, Ootacamund. “They were clothed in white, with a white cloth over their heads, such as the Native Christians wear. A number of Christian Badagas had assembled to witness the ceremony, and join in the service.”

The typical Toda man is above medium height, well proportioned and stalwart, with leptorhine nose, regular features, and perfect teeth. The nose is, as noted by Dr. Rivers, sometimes distinctly rounded in profile. An attempt has been made to connect the Todas with the lost tribes; and, amid a crowd of them collected together at a funeral, there is no difficulty in picking out individuals, whose features would find for them a ready place as actors on the Ober Ammergau stage, either in leading or subordinate parts. The principal characteristic, which at once distinguishes the Toda from the other tribes of the Nilgiris, is the development of the pilous (hairy) system. The following is a typical case, extracted from my notes. Beard luxuriant, hair of head parted in middle, and hanging in curls over forehead and back of neck. Hair thickly developed on chest and abdomen, with median strip of dense hairs on the latter. Hair thick over upper and lower ends of shoulder-blades, thinner over rest of back; well developed on extensor surface of upper arms, and both surfaces of forearms; very thick on extensor surfaces of the latter. Hair abundant on both surfaces of legs; thickest on outer side of thighs and round knee-cap. Dense beard-like mass of hair beneath gluteal region (buttocks). Superciliary brow ridges very prominent. Eyebrows united across middle line by thick tuft of hairs. A dense growth of long straight hairs directed outwards on helix of both ears, bearing a striking resemblance to the hairy development on the helix of the South Indian bonnet monkey (Macacus sinicus). The profuse hairy development is by some Todas attributed to their drinking “too much milk.”

Nearly all the men have one or more raised cicatrices, forming nodulous growths (keloids) on the right shoulder.These scars are produced by burning the skin with red-hot sticks of LitsÆa Wightiana (the sacred fire-stick). The Todas believe that the branding enables them to milk the buffaloes with perfect ease, or as Dr. Rivers puts it, that it cures the pain caused by the fatigue of milking. “The marks,” he says, “are made when a boy is about twelve years old, at which age he begins to milk the buffaloes.” About the fifth month of a woman’s first pregnancy, on the new-moon day, she goes through a ceremony, in which she brands herself, or is branded by another woman, by means of a rag rolled up, dipped in oil and lighted, with a dot on the carpo-metacarpal joint of each thumb and on each wrist.

The women are lighter in colour than the men, and the colour of the body has been aptly described as of a cafÉ-au-lait tint. The skin of the female children and young adults is often of a warm copper hue. Some of the young women, with their raven-black hair dressed in glossy ringlets, and bright glistening eyes, are distinctly good-looking, but both good looks and complexion are short-lived, and the women speedily degenerate into uncomely hags. As in Maori land, so in Toda land, one finds a race of superb men coupled to hideous women, and, with the exception of the young girls, the fair sex is the male sex. Both men and women cover their bodies with a white mantle with blue and red lines, called putkuli, which is purchased in the Ootacamund bazar, and is sometimes decorated with embroidery worked by the Toda women. The odour of the person of the Todas, caused by the rancid butter which they apply to the mantle as a preservative reagent, or with which they anoint their bodies, is quite characteristic. With a view to testing his sense of smell, long after our return from Paikara, I blindfolded a friend who had accompanied me thither, and presented before his nose a cloth, which he at once recognised as having something to do with the Todas.

In former times, a Badaga could be at once picked out from the other tribes of the Nilgiri plateau by his wearing a turban. At the present day, some Toda elders and important members of the community (e.g., monegars or headmen) have adopted this form of head-gear. The men who were engaged as guides by Dr. Rivers and myself donned the turban in honour of their appointment.

Toda woman.

Toda females are tattooed after they have reached puberty. I have seen several multiparÆ, in whom the absence of tattoo marks was explained either on the ground that they were too poor to afford the expense of the operation, or that they were always suckling or pregnant—conditions, they said, in which the operation would not be free from danger. The dots and circles, of which the simple devices are made up,36 are marked out with lamp-black made into a paste with water, and the pattern is pricked in by a Toda woman with the spines of Berberis aristata. The system of tattooing and decoration of females with ornaments is summed up in the following cases:—

1. Aged 22. Has one child. Tattooed with three dots on back of left hand. Wears silver necklet ornamented with Arcot two-anna pieces; thread and silver armlets ornamented with cowry (CyprÆa moneta) shells on right upper arm; thread armlet ornamented with cowries on left forearm; brass ring on left ring finger; silver rings on right middle and ring fingers. Lobes of ears pierced. Ear-rings removed owing to grandmother’s death.

2. Aged 28. Tattooed with a single dot on chin; rings and dots on chest, outer side of upper arms, back of left hand, below calves, above ankles, and across dorsum of feet. Wears thread armlet ornamented with young cowries on right forearm; thread armlet and two heavy ornamental brass armlets on left upper arm; ornamental brass bangle and glass bead bracelet on left wrist; brass ring on left little finger; two steel rings on left ring finger; bead necklet ornamented with cowries.

3. Aged 35. Tattooed like the preceding, with the addition of an elaborate device of rings and dots on the back.

4. Aged 35. Linen bound round elbow joint, to prevent chafing of heavy brass armlets. Cicatrices of sores in front of elbow joint, produced by armlets.

5. Aged 23. Has one child. Tattooed only below calves, and above ankles.

The following are the more important physical measurements of the Toda men, whom I have examined:—

Allowing that the cephalic index is a good criterion of racial or tribal purity, the following analysis of the Toda indices is very striking:—

A thing of exceeding joy to the Todas was my Salter’s hand-dynamometer, the fame of which spread from mand to mand, and which was circulated among the crowd at funerals. Great was the disgust of the assembled males, on a certain day, when the record of hand-grip for the morning (73 lbs.) was carried off by a big-boned female, who became the unlovely heroine of the moment. The largest English feminine hand-grip, recorded in my laboratory note-book, is only 66 lbs. One Toda man, of fine physique, not satisfied with his grip of 98 lbs., went into training, and fed himself up for a few days. Thus prepared, he returned to accomplish 103 lbs., the result of more skilful manipulation of the machine rather than of a liberal dietary of butter-milk.

The routine Toda dietary is said to be made up of the following articles, to which must be added strong drinks purchased at the toddy shops:—

(a) Rice boiled in whey.

(b) Rice and jaggery (crude sugar) boiled in water.

(c) Broth or curry made of vegetables purchased in the bazar, wild vegetables and pot-herbs, which, together with ground orchids, the Todas may often be seen rooting up with a sharp-pointed digging-stick on the hill-sides. The Todas scornfully deny the use of aphrodisiacs, but both men and women admit that they take salep misri boiled in milk, to make them strong. Salep misri is made from the tubers (testicles de chiens) of various species of Eulophia and Habenaria belonging to the natural order OrchideÆ.

The indigenous edible plants and pot-herbs include the following:—

(1) Cnicus Wallichii (thistle).—The roots and flower-stalks are stripped of their bark, and made into soup or curry.

(2) Girardinia heterophylla (Nilgiri nettle).—The tender leafy shoots of vigorously growing plants are gathered, crushed by beating with a stick to destroy the stinging hairs, and made into soup or curry. The fibre of this plant, which is cultivated near the mands, is used for stitching the putkuli, with steel needles purchased in the bazar in lieu of the more primitive form. In the preparation of the fibre, the bark is thrown into a pot of boiling water, to which ashes have been added. After a few hours’ boiling, the bark is taken out and the fibre extracted.

(3) Tender shoots of bamboos eaten in the form of curry.

The following list of plants, of which the fruits are eaten by the Todas, has been brought together by Mr. K. Rangachari:—

Eugenia Arnottiana.—The dark purple juice of the fruit of this tree is used by Toda women for painting beauty spots on their faces.

Fragaria nilgerrensis, wild strawberry.

ElÆagnus latifolia. Said by Dr. Mason to make excellent tarts and jellies.

Gaultheria fragrantissima.

Rhodomyrtus tomentosa, hill gooseberry.

ElÆocarpus oblongus.

ElÆocarpus Munronii.

Solanum nigrum.

Vaccinium Leschenaultii.

Vaccinium nilgherrense.

Toddalia aculeata.

Ceropegia pusilla.

To which may be added mushrooms.

A list containing the botanical and Toda names of trees, shrubs, etc., used by the Todas in their ordinary life, or in their ceremonial, is given by Dr. Rivers.38

Fire is, in these advanced days, obtained by the Todas in their dwelling huts for domestic purposes from matches. The men who came to be operated on with my measuring instruments had no hesitation in asking for a match, and lighting the cheroots which were distributed amongst them, before they left the Paikara bungalow dining-room. Within the precincts of the dairy temple the use of matches is forbidden, and fire is kindled with the aid of two dry sticks of LitsÆa Wightiana. Of these one, terminating in a blunt convex extremity, is about 2' 3 long; the other, with a hemispherical cavity scooped out close to one end, about 2½ in length. A little nick or slot is cut on the edge of the shorter stick, and connected with the hole in which the spindle stick is made to revolve. “In this slot the dust collects, and, remaining in an undisturbed heap, seemingly acts as a muffle to retain the friction-heat until it reaches a sufficiently high temperature, when the wood-powder becomes incandescent.”39 Into the cavity in the short stick the end of the longer stick fits, so as to allow of easy play. The smaller stick is placed on the ground, and held tight by firm pressure of the great toe, applied to the end furthest from the cavity, into which a little finely powdered charcoal is inserted. The larger stick is then twisted vigorously, “like a chocolate muller” (Tylor) between the palms of the hands by two men, turn and turn about, until the charcoal begins to glow. Fire, thus made, is said to be used at the sacred dairy (ti), the dairy houses of ordinary mands, and at the cremation of males. In an account of a Toda green funeral,40 Mr. Walhouse notes that “when the pile was completed, fire was obtained by rubbing two dry sticks together. This was done mysteriously and apart, for such a mode of obtaining fire is looked upon as something secret and sacred.” At the funeral of a female, I provided a box of tÄndstickors for lighting the pyre. A fire-stick, which was in current use in a dairy, was polluted and rendered useless by the touch of my Brahman assistant! It is recorded by Harkness41 that a Brahman was not only refused admission to a Toda dairy, but actually driven away by some boys, who rushed out of it when they heard him approach. It is noted by Dr. Rivers that “several kinds of wood are used for the fire-sticks, the Toda names of these being kiaz or keadj (LitsÆa Wightiana), mors (Michelia Nilagirica), parskuti (ElÆagnus latifolia), and main (Cinnamomum Wightii).” He states further that, “whenever fire is made for a sacred purpose, the fire-sticks must be of the wood which the Todas call kiaz or keadj, except in the tesherot ceremony (qualifying ceremony for the office of palol) in which the wood of muli is used. At the niroditi ceremony (ordination ceremony of a dairyman), “the assistant makes fire by friction, and lights a fire of mulli wood, at which the candidate warms himself.” It is also recorded by Dr. Rivers that “in some Toda villages, a stone is kept, called tutmÛkal, which was used at one time for making fire by striking it with a piece of iron.”

The abode of the Todas is called a mad or mand (village or hamlet), which is composed of huts, dairy temple, and cattle-pen, and has been so well described by Dr. Shortt,42 that I cannot do better than quote his account. “Each mand,” he says, “usually comprises about five buildings or huts, three of which are used as dwellings, one as a dairy, and the other for sheltering the calves at night. These huts form a peculiar kind of oval pent-shaped [half-barrel-shaped] construction, usually 10 feet high, 18 feet long, and 9 feet broad. The entrance or doorway measures 32 inches in height and 18 inches in width, and is not provided with any door or gate; but the entrance is closed by means of a solid slab or plank of wood from 4 to 6 inches thick, and of sufficient dimensions to entirely block up the entrance. This sliding door is inside the hut, and so arranged and fixed on two stout stakes buried in the earth, and standing to the height of 2½ to 3 feet, as to be easily moved to and fro. There are no other openings or outlets of any kind, either for the escape of smoke, or for the free ingress and egress of atmospheric air. The doorway itself is of such small dimensions that, to effect an entrance, one has to go down on all fours, and even then much wriggling is necessary before an entrance is effected. The houses are neat in appearance, and are built of bamboos closely laid together, fastened with rattan, and covered with thatch, which renders them water-tight. Each building has an end walling before and behind, composed of solid blocks of wood, and the sides are covered in by the pent-roofing, which slopes down to the ground. The front wall or planking contains the entrance or doorway. The inside of a hut is from 8 to 15 feet square, and is sufficiently high in the middle to admit of a tall man moving about with comfort. On one side there is a raised platform or pial formed of clay, about two feet high, and covered with sambar (deer) or buffalo skins, or sometimes with a mat. This platform is used as a sleeping place. On the opposite side is a fire place, and a slight elevation, on which the cooking utensils are placed. In this part of the building, faggots of firewood are seen piled up from floor to roof, and secured in their place by loops of rattan. Here also the rice-pounder or pestle is fixed. The mortar is formed by a hole dug in the ground, 7 to 9 inches deep, and hardened by constant use. The other household goods consist of three or four brass dishes or plates, several bamboo measures, and sometimes a hatchet. Each hut or dwelling is surrounded by an enclosure or wall formed of loose stones piled up two or three feet high [with openings too narrow to permit of a buffalo entering through it]. The dairy is sometimes a building slightly larger than the others, and usually contains two compartments separated by a centre planking. One part of the dairy is a store-house for ghee, milk and curds, contained in separate vessels. The outer apartment forms the dwelling place of the dairy priest. The doorways of the dairy are smaller than those of the dwelling huts. The flooring of the dairy is level, and at one end there is a fire-place. Two or three milk pails or pots are all that it usually contains. The dairy is usually situated at some little distance from the habitations. The huts where the calves are kept are simple buildings, somewhat like the dwelling huts. In the vicinity of the mands are the cattle-pens or tuels[tu], which are circular enclosures surrounded by a loose stone wall, with a single entrance guarded by powerful stakes. In these, the herds of buffaloes are kept at night. Each mand possesses a herd of these animals.” It is noted by Dr. Rivers that “in the immediate neighbourhood of a village there are usually well-worn paths, by which the village is approached, and some of these paths or kalvol receive special names. Some may not be traversed by women. Within the village there are also certain recognised paths, of which two are specially important. One, the punetkalvol, is the path by which the dairy man goes from his dairy to milk or tend the buffaloes; the other is the majvatitthkalvol, the path which the women must use when going to the dairy to receive butter-milk (maj) from the dairy man. Women are not allowed to go to the dairy or to other places connected with it, except at appointed times, when they receive buttermilk.”

In addition to the dairies which in form resemble the dwelling-huts, the Todas keep up as dairy-temples certain curious conical edifices, of which there are said to be four on the Nilgiri plateau, viz., at the Muttanad mand, near Kotagiri, near Sholur, and at Mudimand. The last was out of repair a few years ago, but was, I was informed, going to be rebuilt shortly. It is suggested by Dr. Rivers as probable that in many cases a dairy, originally of the conical form, has been rebuilt in the same form as the dwelling-hut, owing to the difficulty and extra labour of reconstruction in the older shape. The edifice at the Muttanad mand (or Nodrs), at the top of the Sigur ghat, is known to members of the Ootacamund Hunt as the Toda cathedral. It has a circular stone base and a tall conical thatched roof crowned with a large flat stone, and is surrounded by a circular stone wall. To penetrate within the sacred edifice was forbidden, but we were informed that it contained milking vessels, dairy apparatus, and a swami in the guise of a copper bell (mani). The dairyman is known as the varzhal or wursol. In front of the cattle-pen of the neighbouring mand, I noticed a grass-covered mound, which, I was told, is sacred. The mound contains nothing buried within it, but the bodies of the dead are placed near it, and earth from the mound is placed on the corpse before it is removed to the burning-ground. At “dry funerals” the buffalo is said to be slain near the mound. It has been suggested by Colonel Marshall43 that the “boa or boath [poh.] is not a true Toda building, but may be the bethel of some tribe contemporaneous with, and cognate to the Todas, which, taking refuge, like them, on these hills, died out in their presence.”

Despite the hypothesis of Dr. Rivers that the Todas are derived from one or more of the races of Malabar, their origin is buried among the secrets of the past. So too is the history of the ancient builders of cairns and barrows on the Nilgiri plateau, which were explored by Mr. Breeks when Commissioner of the Nilgiris.44 The bulk of the Breeks’ collection is now preserved in the Madras Museum, and includes a large series of articles in pottery, quite unlike anything known from other parts of Southern India. Concerning this series, Mr. R. Bruce Foote writes as follows.45 “The most striking objects are tall jars, many-storied cylinders, of varying diameter with round or conical bases, fashioned to rest upon pottery ring-stands, or to be stuck into soft soil, like the amphorÆ of classical times. These jars were surmounted by domed lids. On these lids stood or sat figures of the most varied kind of men, or animals, much more rarely of inanimate objects, but all modelled in the rudest and most grotesque style. Grotesque and downright ugly as are these figures, yet those representing men and women are extremely interesting from the light they throw upon the stage of civilization their makers had attained to, for they illustrate the fashion of the garments as also of the ornaments they wore, and of the arms or implements carried by them. The animals they had domesticated, those they chased, and others that they probably worshipped, are all indicated. Many figures of their domestic animals, especially their buffaloes and sheep, are decorated with garlands and bells, and show much ornamentation, which seems to indicate that they were painted over, a custom which yet prevails in many parts.” Among the most interesting figures are those of heavily bearded men riding on horses, and big-horned buffaloes which might have been modelled from the Toda buffaloes of to-day, and, like these, at funerals and migration ceremonies, bear a bell round the neck.

Two forms of Toda dairy have so far been noticed. But there remains a third kind, called the ti mand, concerning which Dr. Rivers writes as follows. “The ti is the name of an institution, which comprises a herd of buffaloes, with a number of dairies and grazing districts, tended by a dairy-man priest called palol, with an assistant called kaltmokh. Each dairy, with its accompanying buildings and pasturage, is called a ti mad, or ti village. The buffaloes belonging to a ti are of two kinds, distinguished as persiner and punir. The former are the sacred buffaloes, and the elaborate ceremonial of the ti dairy is concerned with their milk. The punir correspond in some respects to the putiir of the ordinary village dairy, and their milk and its products are largely for the personal use and profit of the palol, and are not treated with any special ceremony. During the whole time he holds office, the palol may not visit his home or any other ordinary village, though he may visit another ti village. Any business with the outside world is done either through the kaltmokh, or with people who come to visit him at the ti. If the palol has to cross a river, he may not pass by a bridge, but must use a ford, and it appears that he may only use certain fords. The palol must be celibate, and, if married, he must leave his wife, who is in most cases also the wife of his brother or brothers.” I visited the ti mand near Paikara by appointment, and, on arrival near the mand, found the two palols, well-built men aged about thirty and fifty, clad in black cloths, and two kaltmokhs, youths aged about eight and ten, naked save for a loin-cloth, seated on the ground, awaiting our arrival. As a mark of respect to the palols, the three Todas who accompanied me arranged their putkulis so that the right arm was laid bare, and one of them, who was wearing a turban, removed it. A long palaver ensued in consequence of the palols demanding ten rupees to cover the expenses of the purificatory ceremonies, which, they maintained, would be necessary if I desecrated the mand by photographing it. Eventually, however, under promise of a far smaller sum, the dwelling-hut was photographed, with palols, kaltmokhs, and a domestic cat seated in front of it.

In connection with the palol being forbidden to cross a river by a bridge, it may be noted that the river which flows past the Paikara bungalow is regarded as sacred by the Todas, and, for fear of mishap from arousing the wrath of the river god, a pregnant Toda woman will not venture to cross it. The Todas will not use the river water for any purpose, and they do not touch it unless they have to ford it. They then walk through it, and, on reaching the opposite bank, bow their heads. Even when they walk over the Paikara bridge, they take their hand out of the putkuli as a mark of respect. Concerning the origin of the Paikara river, a grotesque legend was narrated to us. Many years ago, the story goes, two Todas, uncle and nephew, went out to gather honey. After walking for a few miles they separated, and proceeded in different directions. The uncle was unsuccessful in the search, but the more fortunate nephew secured two kandis (bamboo measures) of honey. This, with a view to keeping it all for himself, he secreted in a crevice among the rocks, with the exception of a very small quantity, which he made his uncle believe was the entire product of his search. On the following day, the nephew went alone to the spot where the honey was hidden, and found, to his disappointment, that the honey was leaking through the bottom of the bamboo measures, which were transformed into two snakes. Terrified at the sight thereof, he ran away, but the snakes pursued him (may be they were hamadryads, which have the reputation of pursuing human beings). After running a few minutes, he espied a hare (Lepus nigricollis) running across his course, and, by a skilful manoeuvre, threw his body-cloth over it. Mistaking it for a man, the snakes followed in pursuit of the hare, which, being very fleet of foot, managed to reach the sun, which became obscured by the hoods of the reptiles. This fully accounts for the solar eclipse. The honey, which leaked out of the vessels, became converted into the Paikara river.

In connection with the migrations of the herds of buffaloes, Dr. Rivers writes as follows. “At certain seasons of the year, it is customary that the buffaloes both of the village and the ti should migrate from one place to another. Sometimes the village buffaloes are accompanied by all the inhabitants of the village; sometimes the buffaloes are only accompanied by their dairy-man and one or more male assistants. There are two chief reasons for these movements of the buffaloes, of which the most urgent is the necessity for new grazing-places.... The other chief reason for the migrations is that certain villages and dairies, formerly important and still sacred, are visited for ceremonial purposes, or out of respect to ancient custom.” For the following note on a buffalo migration which he came across, I am indebted to Mr. H. C. Wilson. “During the annual migration of buffaloes to the Kundahs, and when they were approaching the bridle-path leading from Avalanche to Sispara, I witnessed an interesting custom. The Toda family had come to a halt on the far side of the path; the females seated themselves on the grass, and awaited the passing of the sacred herd. This herd, which had travelled by a recognised route across country, has to cross the bridle-path some two or three hundred yards above the Avalanche-Sispara sign-post. Both the ordinary and sacred herd were on the move together. The former passed up the Sispara path, while the latter crossed in a line, and proceeded slightly down the hill, eventually crossing the stream and up through the sholas over the steep hills on the opposite side of the valley. As soon as the sacred herd had crossed the bridle-path, the Toda men, having put down all their household utensils, went to where the women and girls were sitting, and carried them, one by one, over the place where the buffaloes had passed, depositing them on the path above. One of the men told me that the females are not allowed to walk over the track covered by the sacred herd, and have to be carried whenever it is necessary to cross it. This herd has a recognised tract when migrating, and is led by the old buffaloes, who appear to know the exact way.”

The tenure under which lands are held by the Todas is summed up as follows by Mr. R. S. Benson in his report on the revenue settlement of the Nilgiris, 1885. “The earliest settlers, and notably Mr. Sullivan, strongly advocated the claim of the Todas to the absolute proprietary right to the plateau [as lords of the soil]; but another school, led by Mr. Lushington, has strongly combated these views, and apparently regarded the Todas as merely occupiers under the ryotwari system in force generally in the Presidency. From the earliest times the Todas have received from the cultivating Badagas an offering or tribute, called gudu or basket of grain, partly in compensation for the land taken up by the latter for cultivation, and so rendered unfit for grazing purposes, but chiefly as an offering to secure the favour, or avert the displeasure of the Todas, who, like the Kurumbas (q.v.), are believed by the Badagas to have necromantic powers over their health and that of their herds. The European settlers also bought land in Ootacamund from them, and to this day the Government pays them the sum of Rs. 150 per mensem, as compensation for interference with the enjoyment of their pastoral rights in and about Ootacamund. Their position was, however, always a matter of dispute, until it was finally laid down in the despatch of the Court of Directors, dated 21st January, 1843. It was then decided that the Todas possessed nothing more than a prescriptive right to enjoy the privilege of pasturing their herds, on payment of a small tax, on the State lands. The Court desired that they should be secured from interference by settlers in the enjoyment of their mands, and of their spots appropriated to religious rites. Accordingly pattas were issued, granting to each mand three bullahs (11.46 acres) of land. In 1863 Mr. Grant obtained permission to make a fresh allotment of nine bullahs (34.38 acres) to each mand on the express condition that the land should be used for pasturage only, and that no right to sell the land or the wood on it should be thereby conveyed. It may be added that the so-called Toda lands are now regarded as the inalienable common property of the Toda community, and unauthorised alienation is checked by the imposition of a penal rate of assessment (G.O., 18th April 1882). Up to the date of this order, however, alienations by sale or lease were of frequent occurrence. It remains to be seen whether the present orders and subordinate staff will be more adequate than those that went before to check the practices referred to.” With the view of protecting the Toda lands, Government took up the management of these lands in 1893, and framed rules, under the Forest Act, for their management, the rights of the Todas over them being in no way affected by the rules of which the following is an abstract:—

1. No person shall fell, girdle, mark, lop, uproot, or burn, or strip off the bark or leaves from, or otherwise damage any tree growing on the said lands, or remove the timber, or collect the natural produce of such trees or lands, or quarry or collect stone, lime, gravel, earth or manure upon such lands, or break up such lands for cultivation, or erect buildings of any description, or cattle kraals; and no person or persons, other than the Todas named in the patta concerned, shall graze cattle, sheep, or goats upon such lands, unless he is authorised so to do by the Collector of Nilgiris, or some person empowered by him.

2. The Collector may select any of the said lands to be placed under special fire protection.

3. No person shall hunt, beat for game, or shoot in such lands without a license from the Collector.

4. No person shall at any time set nets, traps, or snares for game on such lands.

5. All Todas in the Nilgiri district shall, in respect of their own patta lands, be exempt from the operation of the above rules, and shall be at liberty to graze their own buffaloes, to remove fuel and grass for their domestic requirements, and to collect honey or wax upon such lands. They shall likewise be entitled to, and shall receive free permits for building or repairing their mands and temples.

6. The Collector shall have power to issue annual permits for the cultivation of grass land only in Toda pattas by Todas themselves, free of charge, or otherwise as Government may, from time to time, direct; but no Toda shall be at liberty to permit any person, except a Toda, to cultivate, or assist in the cultivation of such lands.

In 1905, the Todas petitioned Government against the prohibition by the local Forest authorities of the burning of grass on the downs, issued on the ground of danger to the sholas (wooded ravines or groves). This yearly burning of the grass was claimed by the Todas to improve it, and they maintained that their cattle were deteriorating for want of good fodder. Government ruled that the grass on the plateau has been burnt by the inhabitants at pleasure for many years without any appreciable damage to forest growth, and the practice should not be disturbed.

Concerning the social organisation of the Todas, Mr. Breeks states that they are “divided into two classes, which cannot intermarry, viz., DÊvalyÂl and TarserzhÂl. The first class consists of Peiki class, corresponding in some respects to Brahmans; the second of the four remaining classes the Pekkan, Kuttan, Kenna, and Todi. A Peiki woman may not go to the village of the TarserzhÂl, although the women of the latter may visit Peikis.” The class names given by Mr. Breeks were readily recognised by the Todas whom I interviewed, but they gave Terthal (comprising superior Peikis) and Tarthal as the names of the divisions. They told me that, when a Terthal woman visits her friends at a Tarthal mand, she is not allowed to enter the mand, but must stop at a distance from it. Todas as a rule cook their rice in butter-milk, but, when a Terthal woman pays a visit to Tarthal mand, rice is cooked for her in water. When a Tarthal woman visits at a Terthal mand, she is permitted to enter into the mand, and food is cooked for her in buttermilk. The restrictions which are imposed on Terthal women are said to be due to the fact that on one occasion a Terthal woman, on a visit at a Tarthal mand, folded up a cloth, and placed it under her putkuli as if it was a baby. When food was served, she asked for some for the child, and on receiving it, exhibited the cloth. The Tarthals, not appreciating the mild joke, accordingly agreed to degrade all Terthal women. According to Dr. Rivers, “the fundamental feature of the social organisation is the division of the community into two perfectly distinct groups, the Tartharol and the Teivaliol [=DÊvalyÂl of Breeks]. There is a certain amount of specialisation of function, certain grades of the priesthood being filled only by members of the Teivaliol. The Tartharol and Teivaliol are two endogamous divisions of the Toda people. Each of these primary divisions is sub-divided into a number of secondary divisions [clans]. These are exogamous. Each class possesses a group of villages, and takes its name from the chief of these villages, Etudmad. The Tartharol are divided into twelve clans, the Teivaliol into six clans or madol.”

When a girl has reached the age of puberty, she goes through an initiatory ceremony, in which a Toda man of strong physique takes part. One of these splendid specimens of human muscularity was introduced to me on the occasion of a phonograph recital at the Paikara bungalow.

Concerning the system of polyandry as carried out by the Todas, Dr. Rivers writes as follows. “The Todas have long been noted as a polyandrous people, and the institution of polyandry is still in full working order among them. When the girl becomes the wife of a boy, it is usually understood that she becomes also the wife of his brothers. In nearly every case at the present time, and in recent generations, the husbands of a woman are own brothers. In a few cases, though not brothers, they are of the same clan. Very rarely do they belong to different clans. One of the most interesting features of Toda polyandry is the method by which it is arranged who shall be regarded as the father of a child. For all social and legal purposes, the father of a child is the man who performs a certain ceremony about the seventh month of pregnancy, in which an imitation bow and arrow are given to the woman. When the husbands are own brothers, the eldest brother usually gives the bow and arrow, and is the father of the child, though, so long as the brothers live together, the other brothers are also regarded as fathers. It is in the cases in which the husbands are not own brothers that the ceremony becomes of real social importance. In these cases, it is arranged that one of the husbands shall give the bow and arrow, and this man is the father, not only of the child born shortly afterwards, but also of all succeeding children, till another husband performs the essential ceremony. Fatherhood is determined so essentially by this ceremony that a man who has been dead for several years is regarded as the father of any children born by his widow, if no other man has given the bow and arrow. There is no doubt that, in former times, the polyandry of the Todas was associated with female infanticide, and it is probable that the latter custom still exists to some extent, though strenuously denied. There is reason to believe that women are now more plentiful than formerly, though they are still in a distinct minority. Any increase, however, in the number of women does not appear to have led to any great diminution of polyandrous marriages, but polyandry is often combined with polygyny. Two or more brothers may have two or more wives in common. In such marriages, however, it seems to be a growing custom that one brother should give the bow and arrow to one wife, and another brother to another wife.”

The pregnancy ceremony referred to above is called pursutpimi, or bow (and arrow) we touch. According to the account given to me by several independent witnesses, the woman proceeds, accompanied by members of the tribe, on a new moon-day in the fifth or seventh month of her pregnancy, to a shola, where she sits with the man who is to become the father of her child near a kiaz tree (Eugenia Arnottiana). The man asks the father of the woman if he may bring the bow, and, on obtaining his consent, goes in search of a shrub (Sophora glauca), from a twig of which he makes a mimic bow. The arrow is represented by a blade of grass called nark (Andropogon Schoenanthus). Meanwhile a triangular niche has been cut in the kiaz tree, in which a lighted lamp is placed. The woman seats herself in front of the lamp, and, on the return of the man, asks thrice “Whose bow is it?” or “What is it?” meaning to whom, or to which mand does the child belong? The bow and arrow are handed to the woman, who raises them to her head, touches her forehead with them, and places them near the tree. From this moment the lawful father of the child is the man from whom she has received the bow and arrow. He places on the ground at the foot of the tree some rice, various kinds of grain, chillies, jaggery (crude sugar), and salt tied in a cloth. All those present then leave, except the man and woman, who remain near the tree till about six o’clock in the evening, when they return to the mand. The time is determined, in the vicinity of Ootacamund, by the opening of the flowers of Onothera tetraptera (evening primrose), a garden escape called by the Todas aru mani puv (six o’clock flower), which opens towards evening.46 It may be noted that, at the second funeral of a male, a miniature bow and three arrows are burnt with various other articles within the stone circle (azaram).

A few years ago (1902), the Todas, in a petition to Government, prayed for special legislation to legalise their marriages on the lines of the Malabar Marriage Act. The Government was of opinion that legislation was unnecessary, and that it was open to such of the Todas as were willing to sign the declaration prescribed by section 10 of the Marriage Act III of 1872 to contract legal marriages under the provision of that Act. The Treasury Deputy Collector of the Nilgiris was appointed Registrar of Toda marriages. No marriage has been registered up to the present time.

The practice of infanticide among the Todas is best summed up in the words of an aged Toda during an interview with Colonel Marshall.47 “I was a little boy when Mr. Sullivan (the first English pioneer of the Nilgiris) visited these mountains. In those days it was the custom to kill children, but the practice has long died out, and now one never hears of it. I don’t know whether it was wrong or not to kill them, but we were very poor, and could not support our children. Now every one has a mantle (putkuli), but formerly there was only one for the whole family. We did not kill them to please any god, but because it was our custom. The mother never nursed the child, and the parents did not kill it. Do you think we could kill it ourselves? Those tell lies who say we laid it down before the opening of the buffalo-pen, so that it might be run over and killed by the animals. We never did such things, and it is all nonsense that we drowned it in buffalo’s milk. Boys were never killed—only girls; not those who were sickly and deformed—that would be a sin; but, when we had one girl, or in some families two girls, those that followed were killed. An old woman (kelachi) used to take the child immediately it was born, and close its nostrils, ears, and mouth with a cloth thus—here pantomimic action. It would shortly droop its head, and go to sleep. We then buried it in the ground. The kelachi got a present of four annas for the deed.” The old man’s remark about the cattle-pen refers to the Malagasy custom of placing a new-born child at the entrance to a cattle-pen, and then driving the cattle over it, to see whether they would trample on it or not.48 The Missionary Metz49 bears out the statement that the Toda babies were killed by suffocation.

At the census, 1901, 453 male and 354 female Todas were returned. In a note on the proportion of the sexes among the Todas, Mr. R. C. Punnett states50 that “all who have studied the Todas are agreed upon the frequency of the practice (of infanticide) in earlier times. Marshall, writing in 1872, refers to the large amount of female infanticide in former years, but expresses his conviction that the practice had by that time died out. Marshall’s evidence is that of native assurance only. Dr. Rivers, who received the same assurance, is disinclined to place much confidence in native veracity with reference to this point, and, in view of the lack of encouragement which the practice receives from the Indian Government, this is not altogether surprising. The supposition of female infanticide, by accounting for the great disproportion in the numbers of the sexes, brings the Todas into harmony with what is known of the rest of mankind.” In summarising his conclusions, Mr. Punnett notes that:—

(1) Among the Todas, males predominate greatly over females.

(2) This preponderance is doubtless due to the practice of female infanticide, which is probably still to some extent prevalent.

(3) The numerical preponderance of the males has been steadily sinking during recent years, owing probably to the check which foreign intercourse has imposed upon female infanticide.

In connection with the death ceremonies of the Todas, Dr. Rivers notes that “soon after death the body is burnt, and the general name for the ceremony on this occasion is etvainolkedr, the first day funeral. After an interval, which may vary greatly in length, a second ceremony is performed, connected with certain relics of the deceased which have been preserved from the first occasion. The Toda name for this second funeral ceremony is marvainolkedr, the second day funeral, or ‘again which day funeral.’ The funeral ceremonies are open to all, and visitors are often invited by the Todas. In consequence, the funeral rites are better known, and have been more frequently described than any other features of Toda ceremonial. Like nearly every institution of the Todas, however, they have become known to Europeans under their Badaga names. The first funeral is called by the Badagas hase kedu, the fresh or green funeral, and the term ‘green funeral’ has not only become the generally recognised name among the European inhabitants of the Nilgiri hills, but has been widely adopted in anthropological literature. The second funeral is called by the Badagas bara kedu, the ‘dry funeral,’ and this term also has been generally adopted.” The various forms of the funeral ceremonies are discussed in detail by Dr. Rivers, and it must suffice to describe those at which we have been present as eye-witnesses.

I had the opportunity of witnessing the second funeral of a woman who had died from smallpox two months previously. On arrival at a mand on the open downs about five miles from Ootacamund, we were conducted by a Toda guide to the margin of a dense shola, where we found two groups seated apart, consisting of (a) women, girls, and brown-haired female babies, round a camp fire; (b) men, boys, and male babies, carried, with marked signs of paternal affection, by their fathers. In a few minutes a murmuring sound commenced in the centre of the female group. Working themselves up to the necessary pitch, some of the women (near relatives of the deceased) commenced to cry freely, and the wailing and lachrymation gradually spread round the circle, until all, except little girls and babies who were too young to be affected, were weeping and mourning, some for fashion, others from genuine grief. In carrying out the orthodox form of mourning, the women first had a good cry to themselves, and then, as their emotions became more intense, went round the circle, selecting partners with whom to share companionship in grief. Gradually the group resolved itself into couplets of mourners, each pair with their heads in contact, and giving expression to their emotions in unison. Before separating to select a new partner, each couple saluted by bowing the head, and raising thereto the feet of the other, covered by the putkuli. [I have seen women rapidly recover from the outward manifestations of grief, and clamour for money.] From time to time the company of mourners was reinforced by late arrivals from distant mands, and, as each detachment, now of men and now of women, came in view across the open downs, one could not fail to be reminded of the gathering of the clans on some Highland moor. The resemblance was heightened by the distant sound as of pipers, produced by the Kota band (with two police constables in attendance), composed of four Kotas, who made a weird noise with drums and flutes as they drew near the scene of action. The band, on arrival, took up a position close to the mourning women. As each detachment arrived, the women, recognising their relatives, came forward and saluted them in the manner customary among Todas by falling at their feet, and placing first the right and then the left foot on their head. Shortly after the arrival of the band, signals were exchanged, by waving of putkulis, between the assembled throng and a small detachment of men some distance off. A general move was made, and an impromptu procession formed, with men in front, band in the middle, and women bringing up the rear. A halt was made opposite a narrow gap leading into the shola; men and women sat apart as before; and the band walked round, discoursing unsweet music. A party of girls went off to bring fire from the spot just vacated for use in the coming ceremonial, but recourse was finally had to a box of matches lent by one of our party. At this stage we noticed a woman go up to the eldest son of the deceased, who was seated apart from the other men, and would not be comforted in spite of her efforts to console him. On receipt of a summons from within the shola, the assembled Toda men and ourselves swarmed into it by a narrow track leading to a small clear space round a big tree, from a hole cut at the base of which an elderly Toda produced a piece of the skull of the dead woman, wrapped round with long tresses of her hair. It now became the men’s turn to exhibit active signs of grief, and all of one accord commenced to weep and mourn. Amid the scene of lamentation, the hair was slowly unwrapt from off the skull, and burned in an iron ladle, from which a smell as of incense arose. A bamboo pot of ghi was produced, with which the skull was reverently anointed, and placed in a cloth spread on the ground. To this relic of the deceased the throng of men, amid a scene of wild excitement, made obeisance by kneeling down before it, and touching it with their foreheads. The females were not permitted to witness this stage of the proceedings, with the exception of one or two near relatives of the departed one, who supported themselves sobbing against the tree. The ceremonial concluded, the fragment of skull, wrapt in the cloth, was carried into the open, where, as men and boys had previously done, women and girls made obeisance to it. A procession was then again formed, and marched on until a place was reached, where were two stone-walled kraals, large and small. Around the former the men, and within the latter the women, took up their position, the men engaging in chit-chat, and the women in mourning, which after a time ceased, and they too engaged in conversation. A party of men, carrying the skull, still in the cloth, set out for a neighbouring shola, where a kedu of several other dead Todas was being celebrated; and a long pause ensued, broken eventually by the arrival of the other funeral party, the men advancing in several lines, with arms linked, and crying out U, hah! U, hah, hah! in regular time. This party brought with it pieces of the skulls of a woman and two men, which were placed, wrapt in cloths, on the ground, saluted, and mourned over by the assembled multitude. At this stage a small party of Kotas arrived, and took up their position on a neighbouring hill, waiting, vulture-like, for the carcase of the buffalo which was shortly to be slain. Several young men now went off across the hill in search of buffaloes, and speedily re-appeared, driving five buffaloes before them with sticks. As soon as the beasts approached a swampy marsh at the foot of the hill on which the expectant crowd of men was gathered together, two young men of athletic build, throwing off their putkulis, made a rush down the hill, and tried to seize one of the buffaloes by the horns, with the result that one of them was promptly thrown. The buffalo escaping, one of the remaining four was quickly caught by the horns, and, with arms interlocked, the men brought it down on its knees, amid a general scuffle. In spite of marked objection and strenuous resistance on the part of the animal—a barren cow—it was, by means of sticks freely applied, slowly dragged up the hill, preceded by the Kota band, and with a Toda youth pulling at its tail. Arrived at the open space between the kraals, the buffalo, by this time thoroughly exasperated, and with blood pouring from its nostrils, had a cloth put on its back, and was despatched by a blow on the poll with an axe deftly wielded by a young and muscular man. On this occasion no one was badly hurt by the sacrificial cow, though one man was seen washing his legs in the swamp after the preliminary struggle with the beast. But Colonel Ross-King narrates how he saw a man receive a dangerous wound in the neck from a thrust of the horn, which ripped open a wide gash from the collar-bone to the ear. With the death of the buffalo, the last scene, which terminated the strange rites, commenced; men, women, and children pressing forward and jostling one another in their eagerness to salute the dead beast by placing their hands between its horns, and weeping and mourning in pairs; the facial expression of grief being mimicked when tears refused to flow spontaneously.

The ceremonial connected with the final burning of the relics and burial of the ashes at the stone circle (azaram) are described in detail by Dr. Rivers.

A few days after the ceremony just described, I was invited to be present at the funeral of a young girl who had died of smallpox five days previously. I proceeded accordingly to the scene of the recent ceremony, and there, in company with a small gathering of Todas from the neighbouring mands, awaited the arrival of the funeral cortÉge, the approach of which was announced by the advancing strains of Kota music. Slowly the procession came over the brow of the hill; the corpse, covered by a cloth, on a rude ladder-like bier, borne on the shoulders of four men, followed by two Kota musicians; the mother carried hidden within a sack; relatives and men carrying bags of rice and jaggery, and bundles of wood of the kiaz tree (Eugenia Arnottiana) for the funeral pyre. Arrived opposite a small hut, which had been specially built for the ceremonial, the corpse was removed from the bier, laid on the ground, face upwards, outside the hut, and saluted by men, women, and children, with the same manifestations of grief as on the previous occasion. Soon the men moved away to a short distance, and engaged in quiet conversation, leaving the females to continue mourning round the corpse, interrupted from time to time by the arrival of detachments from distant mands, whose first duty was to salute the dead body. Meanwhile a near female relative of the dead child was busily engaged inside the hut, collecting together in a basket small measures of rice, jaggery, sago, honey-comb, and the girl’s simple toys, which were subsequently to be burned with the corpse. The mourning ceasing after a time, the corpse was placed inside the hut, and followed by the near relatives, who there continued to weep over it. A detachment of men and boys, who had set out in search of the buffaloes which were to be sacrificed, now returned driving before them three cows, which escaped from their pursuers to rejoin the main herd. A long pause ensued, and, after a very prolonged drive, three more cows were guided into a marshy swamp, where one of them was caught by the horns, and dragged reluctantly, but with little show of fight, to the strains of Kota drum and flute, in front of the hut, where it was promptly despatched by a blow on the poll. The corpse was now brought from within the hut, and placed, face upwards, with its feet resting on the forehead of the buffalo, whose neck was decorated with a silver chain, such as is worn by Todas round the loins, as no bell was available, and the horns were smeared with butter. Then followed frantic manifestations of grief, amid which the unhappy mother fainted. Mourning over, the corpse was made to go through a form of ceremony, resembling that which is performed during pregnancy with the first child. A small boy, three years old, was selected from among the relatives of the dead girl, and taken by his father in search of a certain grass (Andropogon Schoenanthus) and a twig of a shrub (Sophora glauca), which were brought to the spot where the corpse was lying. The mother of the dead child then withdrew one of its hands from the putkuli, and the boy placed the grass and twig in the hand, and limes, plantains, rice, jaggery, honey-comb, and butter in the pocket of the putkuli, which was then stitched with needle and thread in a circular pattern. The boy’s father then took off his son’s putkuli, and replaced it so as to cover him from head to foot. Thus covered, the boy remained outside the hut till the morning of the morrow, watched through the night by near relatives of himself and his dead bride. [On the occasion of the funeral of an unmarried lad, a girl is in like manner selected, covered with her putkuli from head to foot, and a metal vessel filled with jaggery, rice, etc., to be subsequently burnt on the funeral pyre, placed for a short time within the folds of the putkuli. Thus covered, the girl remains till next morning, watched through the dreary hours of the night by relatives. The same ceremony is performed over the corpse of a married woman who has not borne children, the husband acting as such for the last time, in the vain hope that the woman may produce issue in heaven.] The corpse was borne away to the burning-ground within the shola, and, after removal of some of the hair by the mother of the newly wedded boy, burned, with face upwards, amid the music of the Kota band, the groans of the assembled crowd squatting on the ground, and the genuine grief of the nearest relatives. The burning concluded, a portion of the skull was removed from the ashes, and handed over to the recently made mother-in-law of the dead girl, and wrapped up with the hair in the bark of the tud tree (Meliosma pungens). A second buffalo, which, properly speaking, should have been slain before the corpse was burnt, was then sacrificed, and rice and jaggery were distributed among the crowd, which dispersed, leaving behind the youthful widower and his custodians, who, after daybreak, partook of a meal of rice, and returned to their mands; the boy’s mother taking with her the skull and hair to her mand, where it would remain until the celebration of the second funeral. No attention is paid to the ashes after cremation, and they are left to be scattered by the winds.

A further opportunity offered itself to be present at the funeral of an elderly woman on the open downs not far from Paikara, in connection with which certain details possess some interest. The corpse was, at the time of our arrival, laid out on a rude bier within an improvised arbour covered with leaves and open at each end, and tended by some of the female relatives. At some little distance, a conclave of Toda men, who rose of one accord to greet us, was squatting in a circle, among whom were many venerable white-turbaned elders of the tribe, protected from the scorching sun by palm-leaf umbrellas. Amid much joking, and speech-making by the veterans, it was decided that, as the eldest son of the deceased woman was dead, leaving a widow, this daughter-in-law should be united to the second son, and that they should live together as man and wife. On the announcement of the decision, the bridegroom-elect saluted the principal Todas present by placing his head on their feet, which were sometimes concealed within the ample folds of the putkuli. At the funeral of a married woman, three ceremonies must, I was told, be performed, if possible, by a daughter or daughter-in-law, viz.:—

(1) Tying a leafy branch of the tiviri shrub (Atylosia Candolleana) in the putkuli of the corpse;

(2) Tying balls of thread and cowry shells on the arm of the corpse, just above the elbow;

(3) Setting fire to the funeral pyre, which was, on the present occasion, done by lighting a rag fed with ghi with a match.

The buffalo capture took place amid the usual excitement, and with freedom from accident; and, later in the day, the stalwart buffalo catchers turned up at the travellers’ bungalow for a pourboire in return, as they said, for treating us to a good fight. The beasts selected for sacrifice were a full-grown cow and a young calf. As they were dragged near to the corpse, now removed from the arbour, butter was smeared over the horns, and a bell tied round the neck. The bell was subsequently removed by Kotas, in whose custody, it was said, it was to remain till the next day funeral. The death-blow, or rather series of blows, having been delivered with the butt end of an axe, the feet of the corpse were placed at the mouth of the buffalo. In the case of a male corpse, the right hand is made to clasp the horns. [It is recorded by Dr. Rivers that, at the funeral of a male, men dance after the buffalo is killed. In the dancing a tall pole, called tadri or tadrsi, decorated with cowry shells, is used.] The customary mourning in couples concluded, the corpse, clad in four cloths, was carried on the stretcher to a clear space in the neighbouring shola, and placed by the side of the funeral pyre, which had been rapidly piled up. The innermost cloth was black in colour, and similar to that worn by a palol. Next to it came a putkuli decorated with blue and red embroidery, outside which again was a plain white cloth covered over by a red cotton cloth of European manufacture. Seated by the side of the pyre, near to which I was courteously invited to take a seat on the stump of a rhododendron, was an elderly relative of the dead woman, who, while watching the ceremonial, was placidly engaged in the manufacture of a holly walking-stick with the aid of a glass scraper. The proceedings were watched on behalf of Government by a forest guard, and a police constable who, with marked affectation, held his handkerchief to his nose throughout the ceremonial. The corpse was decorated with brass rings, and within the putkuli were stowed jaggery, a scroll of paper adorned with cowry shells, snuff and tobacco, cocoanuts, biscuits, various kinds of grain, ghi, honey, and a tin-framed looking-glass. A long purse, containing a silver Japanese yen and an Arcot rupee of the East India Company, was tied up in the putkuli close to the feet. These preliminaries concluded, the corpse was hoisted up, and swung three times over the now burning pyre, above which a mimic bier, made of slender twigs, was held. The body was then stripped of its jewelry, and a lock of hair cut off by the daughter-in-law for preservation, together with a fragment of the skull. I was told that, when the corpse is swung over the pyre, the dead person goes to amnodr (the world of the dead). In this connection, Dr. Rivers writes that “it would seem as if this ceremony of swinging the body over the fire was directly connected with the removal of the objects of value. The swinging over the fire would be symbolic of its destruction by fire; and this symbolic burning has the great advantage that the objects of value are not consumed, and are available for use another time. This is probably the real explanation of the ceremony, but it is not the explanation given by the Todas themselves. They say that long ago, about 400 years, a man supposed to be dead was put on the funeral pyre, and, revived by the heat, he was found to be alive, and was able to walk away from the funeral place. In consequence of this, the rule was made that the body should always be swung three times over the fire before it is finally placed thereon.” [Colonel Marshall narrates the story that a Toda who had revived from what was thought his death-bed, has been observed parading about, very proud and distinguished looking, wearing the finery with which he had been bedecked for his own funeral, and which he would be permitted to carry till he really departed this life.] As soon as the pyre was fairly ablaze, the mourners, with the exception of some of the female relatives, left the shola, and the men, congregating on the summit of a neighbouring hill, invoked their god. Four men, seized, apparently in imitation of the Kota Devadi, with divine frenzy, began to shiver and gesticulate wildly, while running blindly to and fro with closed eyes and shaking fists. They then began to talk in Malayalam, and offer an explanation of an extraordinary phenomenon, which had appeared in the form of a gigantic figure, which disappeared as suddenly as it appeared. At the annual ceremony of walking through fire (hot ashes) in that year, two factions arose owing to some dissension, and two sets of ashes were used. This seems to have annoyed the gods, and those concerned were threatened with speedy ruin. But the whole story was very vague. The possession by some Todas of a smattering of Malayalam is explained by the fact that, when grazing their buffaloes on the northern and western slopes of the Nilgiris, they come in contact with Malayalam-speaking people from the neighbouring Malabar district.

At the funeral of a man (a leper), the corpse was placed in front of the entrance to a circle of loose stones about a yard and a half in diameter, which had been specially constructed for the occasion. Just before the buffalo sacrifice, a man of the Paiki clan standing near the head of the corpse, dug a hole in the ground with a cane, and asked a Kenna who was standing on the other side, “Puzhut, Kenna,”51 shall I throw the earth?—three times. To which the Kenna, answering, replied “Puzhut”—throw the earth—thrice. The Paiki then threw some earth three times over the corpse, and three times into the miniature kraal. It is suggested by Dr. Rivers that the circle was made to do duty for a buffalo pen, as the funeral was held at a place where there was no tu (pen), from the entrance of which earth could be dug up.

Several examples of laments relating to the virtues and life of the deceased, which are sung or recited in the course of the funeral ceremonies, are given by Dr. Rivers. On the occasion of the reproduction of a lament in my phonograph, two young women were seen to be crying bitterly. The selection of the particular lament was unfortunate, as it had been sung at their father’s funeral. The reproduction of the recitation of a dead person’s sins at a Badaga funeral quickly restored them to a state of cheerfulness.

The following petition to the Collector of the Nilgiris on the subject of buffalo sacrifice may be quoted as a sign of the times, when the Todas employ petition-writers to express their grievances:—

“According to our religious custom for the long period, we are bringing forward of our killing buffaloes without any irregular way. But, in last year, when the late Collector came to see the said place, by that he ordered to the Todas first not to keep the buffaloes without feeding in the kraal, and second he ordered to kill each for every day, and to clear away the buffaloes, and not to keep the buffaloes without food. We did our work according to his orders, and this excellent order was an ample one. Now this ——, a chief of the Todas, son of ——, a deceased Toda, the above man joined with the moniagar of —— village, joined together, and, dealing with bribes, now they arose against us, and doing this great troubles on us, and also, by this great trouble, one day Mr. —— came for shooting snapes (snipe) by that side. By chance one grazing buffalo came to him, push him by his horns very forcely, and wounded him on his leg. By the help of another gentleman who came with him he escaped, or he would have die at the moment. Now the said moniagar and —— joined together, want to finish the funeral to his late father on the 18th instant. For this purpose they are going to shut the buffaloes without food in the kraal on the 18th instant at 10 o’clock. They are going to kill the buffaloes on the 19th instant at 4 o’clock in the evening. But this is a great sin against god. But we beg your honour this way. That is, let them leave the buffaloes in the grazing place, and ask them to catch and kill them at the same moment. And also your honour cannot ordered them to keep them in the kraal without food. And, if they will desire to kill the buffaloes in this way, these buffaloes will come on us, and also on the other peoples one who, coming to see funs on those day, will kill them all by his anxious. And so we the Todas begs your honour to enquire them before the 18th, the said funeral ceremony commencing, and not to grant the above orders to them.”

A Whit Monday at Paikara was given up to an exhibition of sports and games, whereof the most exciting and interesting was a burlesque representation of a Toda funeral by boys and girls. A Toda, who was fond of his little joke, applied the term pacchai kedu (green funeral) to the corpses of the flies entrapped by a viscous catch’em-alive-oh on the bungalow table. To the mock funeral rites arrived a party of youths, as from a distant mand, and crying out U, hah, in shrill mimicry of their elders. The lad who was to play the leading part of sacrificial buffalo, stripping off his putkuli, disappeared from sight over the brow of a low hillock. Above this eminence his bent and uplifted upper extremities shortly appeared as representatives of the buffalo horns. At sight thereof, there was a wild rush of small boys to catch him, and a mimic struggle took place, while the buffalo was dragged, amid good-tempered scuffling, kicks, and shouting, to the spot where the corpse should have been. This spot was, in the absence of a pseudo-dead body or stage dummy, indicated by a group of little girls, who had sat chatting together till the boy-beast arrived, when they touched foreheads, and went, with due solemnity, through the orthodox observance of mourning in couples. The buffalo was slain by a smart tap on the back of the head with a cloth, which did duty for an axe. As soon as the convulsive movements and twitchings of the death struggle were over, the buffalo, without waiting for an encore, retired behind the hillock once more, in order that the rough and tumble fight, which was evidently the chief charm of the game, might be repeated. The buffalo boy later on came in second in a flat race, and he was last seen protecting us from a mischievous-looking member of his herd, which was grazing on the main-road. Toda buffaloes, it may be noted, are not at all popular with members of the Ootacamund Hunt, as both horses and riders from time to time receive injuries from their horns, when they come in collision.

While the funeral game was in progress, the men showed off their prowess at a game (eln),52 corresponding to the English tip-cat, which is epidemic at a certain season in the London bye-streets. It is played with a bat like a broomstick, and a cylindrical piece of wood pointed at both ends. The latter is propped up against a stone, and struck with the bat. As it flies off the stone, it is hit to a distance with the bat, and caught (or missed) by the out fields.

At the Muttanad mand, we were treated to a further exhibition of games. In one of these, called narthpimi, a flat slab of stone is supported horizontally on two other slabs fixed perpendicularly in the ground so as to form a narrow tunnel, through which a man can just manage to wriggle his body with difficulty. Two men take part in the game, one stationing himself at a distance of about thirty yards, the other about sixty yards from the tunnel. The front man, throwing off his mantle, runs as hard as he can to the tunnel, pursued by the ‘scratch’ man, whose object is to touch the other man’s feet before he has squeezed himself through the tunnel. Another sport, which we witnessed, consists of trial of strength with a heavy globular stone, the object being to raise it up to the shoulder; but a strong, well-built-man—he who was entrusted with slaying the funeral buffalo—failed to raise it higher than the pit of the stomach, though straining his muscles in the attempt. A splendidly made veteran assured me that, when young and lusty, he was able to accomplish the feat, and spoke sadly of degeneration in the physique of the younger members of the tribe.

Mr. Breeks mentions that the Todas play a game resembling puss-in-the-corner, called karialapimi, which was not included in the programme of sports got up for our benefit. Dr. Rivers writes that “the Todas, and especially the children, often play with mimic representations of objects from practical life. Near the villages I have seen small artificial buffalo-pens and fireplaces made by the children in sport.” I have, on several occasions, come across young children playing with long and short pieces of twigs representing buffaloes and their calves, and going solemnly through the various incidents in the daily life of these animals. Todas, both old and young, may constantly be seen twisting flexible twigs into representations of buffaloes’ heads and horns.

Of Toda songs, the following have been collected:—

Song in honour of the arrival of the Maharani-Regent of Mysore at Ootacamund.

Marriage Song.

The religious institutions of the Todas, including the elaborate dairy ritual, and their religion, are described in full detail by Dr. Rivers. The Todas have been to some extent influenced by Hinduism, and some visit the temples at Nanjengod in Mysore, Karamadai in the Coimbatore district, and other shrines, whereat they worship, present votive offerings, and pray for offspring, etc. Writing in 1872, Mr. Breeks remarked that “about Ootacamund, a few Todas have latterly begun to imitate the religious practices of their native neighbours. Occasionally children’s foreheads are marked with the Siva spot, and my particular friend Kinniaven, after an absence of some days, returned with a shaven head from a visit to the temple of Siva at Nanjengudi.” A man who came to my laboratory had his hair hanging down in long tails reaching below his shoulders. He had, he said, let it grow long because his wife, though married five years, had borne no child. A child had, however, recently been born, and, as soon as the second funeral of a relation had been performed, he was going to sacrifice his locks as a thank-offering at the Nanjengod temple. The following extracts from my notes will serve to illustrate the practice of marking (in some instances apparently for beauty’s sake) and shaving as carried out at the present day.

(1) Man, aged 28. Has just performed a ceremony at the ti mand. White curved line painted across forehead, and dots below outer ends thereof, on glabella, and outside orbits. Smeared with white across chest, over outer side of upper arms and left nipple, across knuckles and lower end of left ulna, and on lobes of ears.

(2) Man, aged 21. Painted on forehead as above. Smeared over chest and upper eye lids.

(3) Man, aged 35. White spot painted on forehead.

(4) Man, aged 30. Hair of head and beard cut short owing to death of grandfather.

(5) Boy, aged 12. Shock head of hair, cut very short all over owing to death of grandfather.

(6) Girl, aged 8. Hair shaved on top, back and sides of head, and in median strip from vertex to forehead.

(7) Boy, aged 6. White spot painted between eyebrows. Hair shaved on top and sides of head, and in median strip from vertex to forehead. Hair brought forward in fringe over forehead on either side of median strip, and hanging down back of neck.

(8) Male child, aged 18 months. White spot painted between eyebrows. Shaved on top and sides of head.

Todupuzha Vellala.—For the following note, I am indebted to Mr. N. Subramani Aiyar. Besides the Nanchinad Vellalas, there are, in Travancore, two sections of the Vellala caste, inhabiting the mountainous Todupuzha taluk. These are the Tenkanchi and Kumbakonam Vellalas. The former are known by the popular name of Anjuttilkar, or the five hundred, and the latter are designated Munnutilkar, or the three hundred, in reference to the number of families which originally settled in the taluk. Like the Nanchinad Vellalas, they take the title of Pillai, and, in special cases, the honorific prefix Kanakku.

The Tenkanchi Vellalas appear to have dwelt originally in the Tenkasi taluk of the Tinnevelly district, and to have emigrated, as the legend goes, on account of the demand of a Vaduka ruler for the hand of a member of their community in marriage. The Vadakkumkur Rajas were ruling over Todupuzha at the time of their migration, and afforded them a safe asylum. The Kumbakonam Vellalas believe that they emigrated to Travancore about the commencement of the Malabar era from Kumbakonam in the Tanjore district. Both divisions speak Malayalam, but there are clear indications in their speech that their mother-tongue was once Tamil, and they always use that language in their ceremonial writings. The Anjuttilkar women have adopted the dress and ornaments of the Nayars. Both sections wear the tuft of hair in front, but the Munnutilkar women do not tie the hair on the left side like the Nayars and Anjuttilkars, but behind like the Pandi Vellalas. Nor do the Anjuttilkar women wear a white dress like the Tenkanchis, but a coloured cloth, sixteen cubits in length, in orthodox Tamil fashion. Again, while the Tenkanchi women largely resort to the todu and other Nayar ornaments, the Kumbakonam women are more conservative, and wear only the pampadam and melidu, though they sometimes wear jewels, such as the nagapata tali for the neck. Both sections are Saivites, in the sense that they abstain from flesh and fish.

Their principal occupation is agriculture. They worship the two mountain deities Bhadrakali and Durga. In the Kirikkot muri of the Karikkod property there is a temple dedicated to Siva or Unnamalanathar, with a large amount of property attached to it. This belongs to the Tenkanchi Vellalas, and a Malayalam Brahman performs the priestly functions. The Kumbakonam Vellalas have their own temples, such as the Ankalamma koil, Annamala matam, Virabhadran koil, etc., and worship, besides the principal gods of the Hindu pantheon, such minor deities as Virabhadran, Karuppan, Bhairavan, Mariamman, and Muttaramman. The priests of both sections are East Coast Brahmans, who live in the Todupuzha taluk. As their profession is regarded by other Brahmans as degrading, they, especially in the case of the Kumbakonam Vellalas, perform their duties stealthily. The headman of the Kumbakonam section lives in the Periyakulam taluk of the Madura district, and, by his order, an image of Siva is worshipped at their homes.

Divorce is not permitted on any ground, and, in ancient days, widow remarriage was forbidden. There is a legend that a woman of this caste, who was a friend of the daughter of a certain Vadakkumkur Rajah, was so aggrieved at the news of her newly married husband’s death that, at her intercession, the Rajah issued a proclamation permitting the remarriage of widows. If no husband has been found for a girl before she reaches puberty, certain propitiatory rites have to be performed, at which one of her female relations represents her. On the fourth day of the marriage ceremony, the bride and bridegroom, before they bathe, rub each other’s bodies with oil, and, going to a large caldron containing water, throw a gold and silver ring into it, and pick them out three times. Inheritance of both sections is from father to son (makkathayam). A sambandham alliance does not confer any rite of inheritance.

The names of both sections are such as are unknown among Nayars, e.g., Sivalingam, Arunachalam, Chidambaram, Arumukham. The Tenkanchis are considered to be higher in the social scale than the Kumbakonam section, as they observe only twelve days’ death pollution, whereas the latter are under pollution for sixteen days. The Tenkanchis may enter the temple, and, like Nayars, stand on the left side of the inner shrine, whereas the Kumbakonam Vellalas may proceed only as far as the balikkalpura, or out-house of the temple, and not enter the nalambalam. Again, butter-milk is freely received by Brahmans from the Tenkanchis, but not from members of the Kumbakonam section. While Pandi Vellalas will not receive food from the Tenkanchis, or give their daughters in marriage to them, the latter will not intermarry with the Nanchinad Vellalas.

Togata.—The Togatas are Telugu weavers, most numerous in the Cuddapah district, who manufacture the coarsest kind of cotton cloths, such as are worn by the poorer classes. They are generally Vaishnavites, wear the sacred thread, and have for their priests Vaishnava Brahmans or Satanis. They eat flesh, and their widows are allowed to remarry. Writing concerning the Togatas in 1807, Buchanan states53 that “widows cannot marry again, but are not expected to kill themselves. The Panchanga, or village astrologer, attends at births, marriages, funerals, at the ceremonies performed in honour of their deceased parents, and at the building of a new house, and on each occasion gets a fee of one fanam, or eight pence. On other occasions, when a weaver wants to pray, he calls in a Satanana, who reads something in an unknown language, and gives the votary some holy water, which he consecrates by pouring it on the head of a small image that he carries about for the purpose.”

As regards their origin, some Togatas claim to be sons of Chaudesvari, who threw some rice on to the fire, from which sprang a host of warriors, whose descendants they are. Others give Puppandaja Rishi as the name of their ancestor. Concerning Chaudesvari, Mr. Francis writes as follows.54 “Connected with the margosa tree (Melia Azadirachta) is the worship of Chaudesvari, the goddess of the Togata caste of weavers. She is supposed to reside in margosa trees, and either the tree itself, or a stone representing the goddess and placed at its foot, is worshipped by the Togatas at certain seasons, such as the Telugu New Year Day. Apparently the other weaver castes take no share in the ceremonies. They consist largely of animal sacrifices. Nevertheless, a particular class of Brahmans, called Nandavarikula Brahmans, take a prominent part in the festival. This name Nandavarikula is derived from the village of Nandavaram in Kurnool, and doubtless many stories are prevalent there about this sub-division. The account given at Tadpatri, where they are fairly numerous, is as follows. Once upon a time, a king from Southern India went on a pilgrimage with his wife to Benares. While there, he unwittingly incurred a nameless but heinous pollution. Horrified, he applied to some Brahmans there to purify him, promising them half his kingdom in return. They asked for some tangible record of this promise, and the king called upon the goddess Chaudesvari, who had a temple near by, to witness his oath. The purification was effected, and he departed home. Later on the Brahmans came south, and asked for the fulfilment of his promise. The king declared that he could not remember having made any such undertaking. The Brahmans accordingly went to Benares, and asked Chaudesvari to come south, and bear witness to the king’s oaths. She agreed, on the usual condition that they should go in front, and not look back at her as she came. As happens in other stories of the same kind, they are said to have broken the condition. At Nandavaram they looked back, and the goddess instantly stopped, and remained immoveable. A temple was built for her there, and the Brahmans remained in the south, and still take part in the worship of Chaudesvari which the Togatas inaugurate, even though she is not one of the Hindu pantheon, and delights in animal sacrifice. At Tadpatri other castes besides the Togatas help at the festival.”

Though Chaudesvari is the patron god of the Togatas, they also worship Poleramma, Ellamma, Kotamma, and other minor deities.

The original occupation of the Togatas is said to have been dyeing, but, at the present day, owing to the depression in the hand-loom weaving industry, a large number have taken to cultivation.

Like many other Telugu castes, they have exogamous septs, of which the following are examples:—

Pujaris (priests) for temple worship are always elected from the Perumal sept, and caste messengers from the Bandari sept, if they are represented in a settlement. Torches are generally carried, at processions, by men of the Gudditi sept. Members of the Gurram sept are not allowed to ride on horseback.

The panchayat (village council) system is in vogue, but, in some places, a headman is selected, as occasion requires. In their marriage and funeral ceremonies, the Togatas closely follow the Telugu standard Puranic form of ceremonial. The dead are buried in a recumbent posture. On the last day of the death rites, the Satani gives arrack (liquor) to the Togatas, as to the Padma Sales, in lieu of holy water (thirtham).

Tohala.—Recorded, in the Madras Census Report, 1901, as a small class of Oriya hill cultivators and petty traders in the Ganjam Agency.

Tolagari.—Recorded, in the Madras Census Report, 1901, as a sub-caste of Mutracha. In the North Arcot Manual the Tolagaris are described as a small cultivating caste, who were formerly hunters, like the Palayakkarans.

Tolar (Wolf).—An exogamous sept of Halepaik. The equivalent Tolana occurs as a sept of Moger.

Tolkollan.—The Tolkollans or Tolans (skin people) are summed up in the Madras Census Report, 1901, as “leather workers and dyers, and also gymnasts and teachers of gymnastics. They are also called Vatti Kurup, Chaya Kurup, and Vil Kurup. Their title is Kurup.” The Tolkollans are stated55 to be “blacksmiths by caste, who abandoned their hereditary trade for leather work, and they are chiefly employed by Mappillas. One peculiar custom in this caste is that two or more brothers may have one wife in common. Only those in good circumstances indulge in the luxury of a private wife. The following information furnished by Mr. S. Vaidyanadha Aiyar, the headmaster of the School of Commerce, Calicut, gives some information regarding leather work in Malabar:—

(a) Boots and shoes of country make and English pattern.

(b) Harness making.

(c) Native shoes (ceruppu). These are of the special pattern peculiar to Malabar, and are largely used by all classes of the Hindu and Mappilla communities. The Arabs who visit this coast once a year purchase a considerable number to take back with them. The price of a pair varies from Rs. 1–8–0 to Rs. 5. Those with ornamental gold lace work cost from Rs. 10 to Rs. 50. These shoes are generally used by well-to-do Mappillas. White of egg is used to give a creaking sound to the shoes. This work is mainly done by Tholperunkollans and Mappillas, and the latter show more skill in finish and ornamental work.

(d) Knife sheaths. Almost every Nayar, Tiyan and Mappilla carries a knife about a foot in length, and there is a demand for leather sheaths. These are made by Panans as well as by Tholperunkollans and Mappillas.

(e) Leather baskets are also made, and are largely used as receptacles for carrying pepper, paddy (rice), and other grain.

(f) Winnowing fans are made of leather, and are used in pepper and paddy yards, etc.

(g) Muttu ceruppu (clogs) are leather shoes with wooden soles. These are largely used during the rainy season.”

Tollakkadan (one with a big hole in the lobes of his ears).—Taken, at the census, 1901, as a sub-caste of Shanan, as those returning the name, who are vendors of husked rice in Madras, used the Shanan title Nadan. The equivalent Tollakadu was returned as a sub-division of Konga Vellala.

Tol Mestri.—A sub-division of Semman.

Tondaman.—It is stated, in the Madras Census Report, 1901, that the Tondamans are “also called Sunnambukkaran (q.v.), a Tamil caste of lime (chunam) burners found only in the Tinnevelly district. They are said to be a branch of the Kallans who migrated to Tinnevelly from Pudukkottai, or the Tondaman’s country. Its members are now drummers and pipers as well as lime-burners. Brahmans are their purohits, but they are not allowed to go into Hindu temples. They will eat in the houses of Maravans. Their title is Solagan.” It is noted, in the same report, that the Semman caste “has two sub-divisions, Tondaman and Tol-mestri, and men of the former take wives from the latter, but men of the latter may not marry girls of the former.” Tondaman is the family name of the Raja of Pudukkottai, a Native State surrounded by the British districts of Tanjore, Madura, and Trichinopoly. The Raja is the head of the Kallan caste. Copper coins, called amman kasu, are current only within the State, and their greatest distribution is during Navaratri or Dusserah, when they are issued to the people with a dole of rice every day during the nine days of the festival. They bear on one side the word “Vijaya,” meaning victory, or more probably having reference to our faithful ally Vijaya Ragunatha Tondaman, in whose reign they were first struck, it is said in 1761, after the surrender of Pondicherry to the British.

Tondamandalam.—The name of a sub-division of Vellala, derived from Tondanadu, the ancient Pallava country.

Tonti.—The Tontis are said to be cotton-weavers of Bengal, who have settled in Ganjam.56 The name denotes threadmen, and the weaving of rough white cloths is the traditional occupation of the caste. All Tontis belong to a single gotra named after Kasyapa, one of the seven important rishis, and the priest of Parasurama. Various bamsams or exogamous septs, the names of some of which occur also as titles, exist, e.g., Biswalo, Dasso, Palo, Bono, Chondo, Parimaniko, Korono, Behara, and Mahapatro. The marriage and death ceremonies conform to the standard Oriya type. On the fourth day of the marriage rites, a Bhondari (barber) is presented with some beaten rice and sugar-candy in a new earthen pot. These are sold to those who have assembled, and the proceeds go to the Bhondari. The corpse of a dead person is washed at the burning ground, instead of, in accordance with the common custom among other castes, at the house.

Toppa Tali.—A name applied to certain Vaniyans in the North Arcot district, owing to the peculiar tali (marriage badge) which married women wear.

Torai.—A title of various Oriya castes.

Toreya.—The Toreyas are a Canarese class, living chiefly in the Tamil districts of Coimbatore and Salem. They are said to have been originally fishermen and palanquin bearers, and the name is derived from turai, a river ghat. Most of them are now cultivators, especially of the betel vine (Piper betle). Those whom I examined at Coimbatore were earning their living as betel and sugar-cane cultivators, vendors of tobacco, bakers, cloth merchants, contractors, petty traders, and police constables.

By the Coimbatore Toreyas, the following endogamous divisions were returned:—

• Elai, leaf. Betel cultivators.
• Chunam, lime. Lime burners.
• Gazul, glass bangle. The Toreya caste is said to have originated from the bangles of Machyagandhi or Gandhavati, the daughter of a fisherman on the Jumna. She was married to king Shantanu of Hastinapur, who was one of the ancestors of the heroes of the Mahabharata.

Many exogamous septs exist among the Toreyas, of which the following are examples:—

• Belli, silver. May not wear silver toe-rings.
• Naga, snake. The members of the sept, at times of marriage, worship ant-hills, which are the home of snakes.
• Alwar or Garuda.
• Chinnam, gold.
• Kansugaje, small bronze bells, tied to the legs when dancing.
• Urukathi, a kind of knife.
• Vajjira, diamond.
• Vasishta, a Hindu saint.
• Mogila, clouds.

Onne (Pterocarpus Marsupium). Do not mark their foreheads with the juice from the trunk of this tree.

Kuzhal, the flute played by shepherd boys and snake charmers. If the sound thereof is heard during a meal, what remains of the food should be thrown away.

Rakshasa, a giant. Do not celebrate the Dipavali festival in honour of the victory over, and death of, a rakshasa.

Erumai, buffalo.

The headman of the caste is called Ejaman, who has under him an officer entitled Dalavayi. The caste messenger bears the name of Kondikar. These three offices are hereditary. The Ejaman presides at council meetings which are held at the temple of the caste. The eldest member of each family is entitled to a seat on the council. Those who come late to a meeting thereof prostrate themselves before the assembly. Witnesses before the council have to take an oath, which is administered by the Kondikar. He makes the witness stand within a circle drawn on the ground, and makes him repeat the formula “Before God and the elders assembled, with the sky above and the earth beneath, I will state only the truth.” The Kondikar then takes up a pinch of earth, and puts it on the head of the witness. For merely threatening to beat a person with shoes, the offender has to feed twenty-five castemen. If he takes the shoes in his hands he must feed fifty, and, if he actually resorts to beating with them, he has to feed a hundred men. In addition, the culprit has to pay a small fine, and both parties have to be purified at the temple. A similar punishment is enforced for beating, or threatening to beat with a broom. For adultery the guilty person is excommunicated, and is admitted back into the caste only after the death of one of the parties concerned. He then has to feed a large number of castemen, or pay a money fine, and, prostrating himself before the assembly, he is beaten with a tamarind switch. He further makes obeisance to the Ejaman, and washes his feet. The Ejaman then purifies him by a small piece of burning camphor in his mouth.

When a married girl reaches puberty, she is taken to her father’s house, and her husband constructs a hut with branches of Ficus glomerata. On the last day of her confinement therein, the hut is pulled down, and the girl sets fire to it. The house is purified, and the female relations go to the houses of the Ejaman and caste people, and invite them to be present at a ceremonial. A small quantity of turmeric paste is stuck on the doors of the houses of all who are invited. The relations and members of the caste carry betel, and other articles, on trays in procession through the streets. The girl is seated on a plank, and the trays are placed in front of her. Rice flour, fruits, betel, etc., are tied in her cloth, and she is taken into the house. In the case of an unmarried girl, the hut is built by her maternal uncle.

Marriage is always celebrated at the house of the bridegroom, as there is a legend that a Rajah belonging to the Toreya caste had a son, who was taken to the house of his bride elect, and there murdered. The bridegroom’s father and relations go to the house of the bride, and make presents of money, cloths, ornaments, etc. They also have to make obeisance to, and feed five married women sumptuously. Pandals (booths) are constructed at the houses of both the bride and bridegroom. Five married women go, on behalf of each of the contracting parties, to their houses, and pound rice there. On the second day, five such women fetch water from a tank, and bathe the bride and bridegroom respectively. The ten women then go to the potter’s house, and bring five decorated pots. Three of these are taken to a tank, and filled with water. On the following day, the bridegroom and his sister take the two remaining pots to the tank, and fill them with water. The five pots are placed in the pandal, and represent the household gods. The relations of the bridegroom take twelve kinds of ornaments, a new cloth, flowers, etc., to the house of the Ejaman, and go with him to the bride’s house. She is then bathed, and decked with finery. A Brahman does puja (worship) and ties on her forehead a mandaikettu or bashingham (chaplet) made of gold leaf or tinsel. She is then carried in procession to the house of the bridegroom. Meanwhile, the Brahman ties a mandaikettu on the forehead of the bridegroom, who puts on the sacred thread, and sits within the pandal, holding a katar (dagger) in his hand, and closed in by a screen. The bride goes thrice round this screen, and the Brahman does puja and gives advice (upadesam) to the couple. The screen is then lowered slightly, and the bride and bridegroom garland each other. The bride’s parents place a few gingelly (Sesamum) seeds in the hand of the bridegroom, and pour water thereon, saying that their daughter belongs to him, and telling him to take care of her. The tali, after being blessed by those assembled, is given by the Brahman to the bridegroom, who ties it on the bride’s neck. The screen is then removed, and the couple sit side by side. The sacred fire is lighted, their hands are linked together, and the ends of their cloths tied together. They then leave the pandal, and, placing their feet on a grindstone, look at the pole-star (Arundati). Entering the pandal once more, they sit therein, and the elders bless them by throwing rice coloured with turmeric over their heads. On the fourth day, they again sit within the pandal, and cooked rice, coloured white, red, yellow, green, and black, on five trays, and nine lighted wicks on a tray are waved before them. Five married men and women, holding a string, stand round them in a circle, within which is the bride’s brother with a twig of pipal (Ficus religiosa). The bridegroom places his hands together, and small rice cakes are placed on the head, shoulders, bend of the elbows and knees, and between the fingers of the couple. They are then bathed, and, taking betel in their hands, bow to the four corners of the earth. The bridegroom makes a namam (Vaishnavite sect mark), or places vibhuti (sacred ashes) on the twelve posts of the pandal, and the bride places a little cooked rice and water before each post, to which camphor is burnt, and puja done. They then start for the bride’s house, but the bride’s sister meets them at the entrance thereto, and will not allow them to go in until she has extracted a promise that their child shall marry hers. The bride proceeds to a tank, sowing some paddy (rice) on the way thither, and brings back a pot of water, with which she washes her husband’s hands and feet. Husband and wife then feed each other with a small quantity of rice and milk. Their hands are then cleaned, and the bride’s brother puts a gold ring on the finger of the bridegroom. A tray with betel leaves and areca nuts is brought, and the bridegroom ties three handfuls thereof in his cloth. The newly married couple then worship at the temple. On the fifth day, they carry the earthen pots to a river, and, on their return, five married women are worshipped and fed. Five men have to come forward as sureties for the good behaviour of the couple, and declare before those assembled that they will hold themselves responsible for it. In the evening the pair go to the bride’s house, and rub oil over each other’s head before bathing in turmeric water. On the following day they repair to the house of the bridegroom.

The corpse of a dead Toreya is placed in a pandal constructed of cocoanut leaves and stems of the milk-hedge (Euphorbia Tirucalli). Sect marks are placed on the foreheads of the corpse and the widow. The son of the deceased dons the sacred thread. The funeral ceremonies resemble, in many particulars, those of the Oddes. A mound is piled up over the grave. A Paraiyan places a small twig of the arka plant (Calotropis gigantea) in three corners of the grave, leaving out the north-east corner, and the son puts a small coin on each twig. As he goes round the grave with a water-pot and fire-brand, his maternal uncle, who stands at the head of the grave, makes holes in the pot. On the third, fifth, seventh, or ninth day, the widow, dressed in new cloths, and bedecked with ornaments and flowers, is taken to the burial-ground, with offerings of milk, ghi (clarified butter), tender cocoanut, sandal, camphor, etc. Five small stones, smeared with turmeric and lime, are set up at the head of the grave, and worshipped. The widow goes thrice round the grave, and seats herself near the head thereof. Her brother holds up her arms, and one of her husband’s male relations breaks her bangles. She breaks, and throws her tali on the grave, with the flowers which adorn her. Her ornaments are removed, and she is covered with a cloth, and taken to a river, where she is rubbed with cow-dung and bathed. The son and other relatives go to the temple with butter and other articles. A Brahman does puja, and shuts the doors of the temple. The son, with his back to the temple, throws a little butter on the doors, which are then opened by the Brahman. This is done thrice. On the seventh day, pollution is removed by sprinkling holy water, and the caste people are fed. A widow remains in seclusion (gosha) for three months. Sradh (memorial ceremony) is performed.

The Toreyas worship both Siva and Vishnu, but consider Ayodhya Raman as their special deity, and sacrifice sheep and fowls to Koriamma.

Toreya.—A sub-division of the Badagas of the Nilgiris.

Tota (garden).—Recorded as a sub-division of cultivating Balijas, and an exogamous sept of Boya, Chenchu, Vada Balija (or Mila), Mutracha and Bonthuk Savara. The equivalent Tota occurs as an exogamous sept of Kapu and Yanadi. Tota Devaru, or garden god, is the name of an exogamous sept of the Tigala gardeners and cultivators.

Totakura (Amarantus gangeticus).—An exogamous sept of Kamma.

Toththala or Tottadi.—A sub-division of Velama.

Toti.—The Toti or Totti is one of the village communal servants. The name has been derived from tondu, to dig, or tott, to go round, as the Toti is the purveyor of news, and has to summon people to appear before the village council. The functions of this useful person to the community have been summed up as follows by a district official.57 “This individual has all the dirty work of the village allotted to him. He is of the lowest caste, and hence makes no scruple of doing any manner of work that he may be called upon to perform. The removal and sepulture of unclaimed dead bodies, the cleansing of choultries, rest-houses and the like, where travellers carrying infectious diseases might have halted, and other gruesome duties are entrusted to him. In spite of all this, the Toti is one of the most trusted of the humbler servants of the village community. Considering his humble status and emoluments, which average between Rs. 3 and Rs. 4 a month, his honesty with regard to pecuniary matters is wonderful. He may be trusted with untold wealth, as is often done when he is the sole custodian of the revenue collections of his village to the tune of several thousands at a time, when on their way from the collecting officers to the Government Treasury.” Testimony is borne to the industry of the Toti in the proverb that if you work like a Toti, you can enjoy the comforts of a king.

In the Madras Census Report, 1891, Toti is returned as a sub-division of Chakkiliyan. The Toti of Mysore is defined by Mr. L. Rice58 as a menial among the village servants, a deputy talari, who is employed to watch the crops from the growing crop to the granary.

Odiya Toti is a Tamil synonym for Oriya Haddis employed as scavengers in municipalities in the Tamil country.

Tottiyan.—In the Census Report, 1901, Mr. W. Francis writes that the Tottiyans are “Telugu cultivators. The Tottiyans or Kambalattans of the Tanjore district are, however, said to be vagrants, and to live by pig-breeding, snake-charming, and begging. So are the sub-division called Kattu Tottiyans in Tinnevelly. The headman among the Tinnevelly Tottiyans is called the Mandai Periadanakkaran or Servaikaran. Their marriages are not celebrated in their houses, but in pandals (booths) of green leaves erected for the purpose on the village common. However wealthy the couple may be, the only grain which they may eat at the wedding festivities is either cumbu (Pennisetum typhoideum) or horse-gram (Dolichos biflorus). The patron deities of the caste are Jakkamma and Bommakka, two women who committed sati. The morality of their women is loose. The custom of marrying boys to their paternal aunt’s or maternal uncle’s daughter, however old she may be, also obtains, and in such cases the bridegroom’s father is said to take upon himself the duty of begetting children to his own son. Divorce is easy, and remarriage is freely allowed. They offer rice and arrack (alcoholic liquor) to their ancestors. The Kattu Tottiyans will eat jackals, rats, and the leavings of other people. Tottiya women will not eat in the houses of Brahmans, but no explanation of this is forthcoming. The men wear silver anklets on both legs, and also a bracelet upon one of the upper arms, both of which practices are uncommon, while the women wear bangles only on the left arm, instead of on both as usual. Some of the Zamindars in Madura belong to this caste. The caste title is Nayakkan.” At the census, 1901, Kudulukkaran was returned as a sub-caste of the Tottiyans in Madura and Tinnevelly. The Urumikkaran, meaning those who play on the drum called urumi, are said to be Tottiyans in Madura and Paraiyans elsewhere.

“The Tottiyans or Kambalattans,” Mr. H. A. Stuart writes,59 “are a caste of Telugu cultivators settled in the districts of Madura, Tinnevelly, Coimbatore and Salem. They are probably the descendants of poligars and soldiers of the Nayakkan kings of Vijayanagar, who conquered the Madura country about the beginning of the sixteenth century. As regards the origin of their caste, the Tottiyans say with pride that they are the descendants of the eight thousand gopastris (milkmaids) of Krishna—a tradition which seems to indicate that their original occupation was connected with the rearing and keeping of cattle. The most important sub-divisions are Kollar and Erkollar, the Tamil form of the Telugu Golla and Yerragolla, which are now shepherd castes, though probably they formerly had as much to do with cattle as sheep. Another large sub-division is Kille or Killavar, which I take to be a corruption of the Telugu kilari, a herdman. The bride and bridegroom, too, are always seated on bullock saddles. They do not wear the sacred thread. Most of them are Vaishnavites, some of whom employ Brahman priests, but the majority of them are guided by gurus of their own, called Kodangi Nayakkan. [It is noted, in the Gazetteer of the Madura district, that caste matters used to be settled by the Mettu Nayakkan or headman, and a Kodangi Nayakkan, or priest, so called because he carried a drum.] Each family has its own household deity, which appears to be a sort of representation of departed relations, chiefly women who have burned themselves on the funeral pile of their husbands, or have led a chaste and continent life, or died vestals. Their girls are married after they have attained maturity. Adultery is no crime when committed within the family circle, but a liaison with an outsider involves expulsion from the caste. It is said that their newly married girls are even compelled to cohabit with their husband’s near relatives. [It is further said to be believed that ill-luck will attend any refusal to do so, and that, so far from any disgrace attaching to them in consequence, their priests compel them to keep up the custom, if by any chance they are unwilling.60] The pongu tree (Pongamia glabra) is the sacred tree of the caste. Suttee was formerly very common, and the remarriage of widows is discouraged, if not actually forbidden. The dead are generally burned. Both men and women are supposed to practice magic, and are on that account much dreaded by the people generally. They are especially noted for their power of curing snake-bites by means of mystical incantations, and the original inventor of this mode of treatment has been deified under the name Pambalamman. They are allowed to eat flesh. The majority speak Telugu in their houses.”

The traditional story of the migration of the Tottiyans to the Madura district is given in several of the Mackenzie manuscripts, and is still repeated by the people of the caste. “Centuries ago, says this legend, the Tottiyans lived to the north of the Tungabhadra river. The Muhammadans there tried to marry their women, and make them eat beef. So one fine night they fled southwards in a body. The Muhammadans pursued them, and their path was blocked by a deep and rapid river. They had just given themselves up for lost when a pongu (Pongamia glabra) tree on either side of the stream leant forward, and, meeting in the middle, made a bridge across it. Over this they hurried, and, as soon as they had passed, the trees stood erect once more, before the Mussulmans could similarly cross by them. The Tottiyans in consequence still reverence the pongu tree, and their marriage pandals (booths) are always made from its wood. They travelled on until they came to the city of Vijayanagar, under whose king they took service, and it was in the train of the Vijayanagar armies that they came to Madura.”61

The Tottiyans are most numerous in the Madura and Tinnevelly districts, and include two grades in the social scale. Of these, one consists of those who are engaged in cultivation, and petty Zamindars. The other is made up of those who wander about begging, and doing menial work. Between the two classes there is neither interdining nor intermarriage. In districts other than Madura and Tinnevelly, the name Tottiyan is applied by Tamil-speaking castes to the Jogis, who are beggars and pig breeders, and, like the Tottiyans, speak Telugu. The following legend is current, to account for the division of the Tottiyans into two sections. They once gave a girl in marriage to a Muhammadan ruler, and all the Tottiyans followed him. A large number went to sleep on one side of a river, while the rest crossed, and went away. The latter are represented today by the respectable section, and the begging class is descended from the former. To this day the Muhammadans and Tottiyans of the Trichinopoly district are said to address each other as if they were relations, and to be on terms of unusual intimacy.

In the Madura district, the Tottiyans are apparently divided into three endogamous sections, viz., Vekkili, Thokala, and Yerrakolla, of which the last is considered inferior to the other two. Other names for the Vekkili section are Kambalattar, or Raja Kambalattar. In some places, e.g., in Tinnevelly, there seem to be six divisions, Thokala, Chilla or Silla, Kolla, Narasilla, Kanthikolla and Pala. Of these, Pala may intermarry with Chilla, but the other four are endogamous. As examples of exogamous septs occurring among the Yerrakollas may be noted Chikala (broom), and Udama (lizard, Varanus), of which the latter also occurs as an exogamous sept of the Kapus.

In the neighbourhood of Nellakota in the Madura district, the Yerrakollas have a group of seven septs called Revala, Gollavirappa, Kambli-nayudi, Karadi (bear), Uduma, Chila, and Gelipithi. Intermarriage between these is forbidden, as they are all considered as blood-relations, and they must marry into a group of seven other septs called Gundagala, Busala, Manni, Sukka, Alivirappa, Sikka, and Madha. The names of these septs are remembered by a system of mnemonics.

In a note on the Tottiyans of the Trichinopoly district, Mr. F. R. Hemingway writes as follows. “Three endogamous sub-divisions exist in the caste, namely, the Erra (red) Gollas or Pedda Inti (big family), the Nalla (black) Gollas or Chinna Inti (small family), and the Valus, who are also called Kudukuduppai Tottiyans. The Valus are said to be a restless class of beggars and sorcerers. The red Gollas are, as a rule, fairer than the blacks (whence perhaps the names). The women of the former wear white cloths, while those of the latter do not. Again, they tie their hair in different ways, and their ornaments differ a good deal. The red women carry no emblem of marriage at all, while the black women wear the pottu. The reds allow their widows to remarry, but the blacks do not. Both sections have exogamous sections, called Kambalams—the reds fourteen, and the blacks nine. The reds are divided, for purposes of caste discipline, into nine nadus and the blacks into fourteen mandais. Each village is under a headman called the Ur-Nayakan, and each nadu or mandai under a Pattakaran. The former decide petty disputes, and the latter the more serious cases. The Pattakaran is treated with great deference. He is always saluted with clasped hands, ought never to look on a corpse, and is said to be allowed to consort with any married woman of the caste.”

The Tottiyans are supposed to be one of the nine Kambalam (blanket) castes, which, according to one version, are made up of Kappiliyans, Anappans, Tottiyans, Kurubas, Kummaras, Parivarams, Urumikkarans, Mangalas, and Chakkiliyans. According to another version, the nine castes are Kappiliyan, Anappan, Tottiyan, Kolla Tottiyan, Kuruba, Kummara, Medara, Odde, and Chakkiliyan. At tribal council-meetings, representatives of each of the nine Kambalams should be present. But, for the nine castes, some have substituted nine septs. The Vekkiliyans seem to have three headmen, called Mettu Nayakan, Kodia Nayakan, and Kambli Nayakan, of whom the first mentioned is the most important, and acts as priest on various ceremonial occasions, such as puberty and marriage rites, and the worship of Jakkamma and Bommakka. The Kambli Nayakan attends to the purification of peccant or erring members of the community, in connection with which the head of a sheep or goat is taken into the house by the Kambli Nayakan. It is noted, in the Gazetteer of the Madura district, that “persons charged with offences are invited to prove their innocence by undergoing ordeals. These are now harmless enough, such as attempting to cook rice in a pot which has not been fired, but Turnbull says that he saw the boiling oil ordeal in 1813 in Pudukkottai territory. Perhaps the most serious caste offence is adultery with a man of another community. Turnbull says that women convicted of this used to be sentenced to be killed by Chakkiliyans, but nowadays rigid excommunication is the penalty.”

The Kambalam caste is so called because, at caste council meetings, a kambli (blanket) is spread, on which is placed a kalasam (brass vessel) filled with water, and containing margosa (Melia Azadirachta) leaves, and decorated with flowers. Its mouth is closed by mango leaves and a cocoanut.

A correspondent writes to me that “the Zamindars in the western parts of Madura, and parts of Tinnevelly, are known as Kambala Palayapat. If a man belongs to a Zamindar’s family, he is said to be of the Raja Kambala caste. The marriage ceremony is carried out in two temporary huts erected outside the village, one for the bridegroom, the other for the bride. The tali is tied round the bride’s neck by an elderly female or male belonging to the family. If the marriage is contracted with a woman of an inferior class, the bridegroom’s hut is not made use of, and he does not personally take part in the ceremony. A dagger (kattar), or rude sword, is sent to represent him, and the tali is tied in the presence thereof.”

In a zamindari suit, details of which are published in the Madras Law Reports, Vol. XVII, 1894, the Judge found that the plaintiff’s mother was married to the plaintiff’s father in the dagger form; that a dagger is used by the Saptur Zamindars, who are called Kattari Kamaya, in the case of inequality in the caste or social position of the bride; that, though the customary rites of the Kambala caste were also performed, yet the use of the dagger was an essential addition; and that, though she was of a different and inferior caste to that of the plaintiff’s father, yet that did not invalidate the marriage. The defendant’s argument was that the dagger was used to represent the Zamindar bridegroom as he did not attend in person, and that, by his non-attendance, there could have been no joining of hands, or other essential for constituting a valid marriage. The plaintiff argued that the nuptial rites were duly performed, the Zamindar being present; that the dagger was there merely as an ornament; and that it was customary for people of the Zamindar’s caste to have a dagger paraded on the occasion of marriages. The Judge found that the dagger was there for the purpose of indicating that the two ladies, whom the Zamindar married, were of an inferior caste and rank.

It is recorded, in the Gazetteer of the Madura district, that, when a Tottiyan girl attains maturity, “she is kept in a separate hut, which is watched by a Chakkiliyan. Marriage is either infant or adult. A man has the usual claim to his paternal aunt’s daughter, and so rigorously is this rule followed that boys of tender years are frequently married to grown women. These latter are allowed to consort with their husband’s near relations, and the boy is held to be the father of any children which may be born. Weddings last three days, and involve very numerous ceremonies. They take place in a special pandal erected in the village, on either side of which are smaller pandals for the bride and bridegroom. Two uncommon rites are the slaughtering of a red ram without blemish, and marking the foreheads of the couple with its blood, and the pursuit by the bridegroom, with a bow and arrow, of a man who pretends to flee, but is at length captured and bound. The ram is first sprinkled with water, and, if it shivers, this, as usual, is held to be a good omen. The bride-price is seven kalams of kumbu (Pennisetum typhoideum), and the couple may eat only this grain and horse-gram until the wedding is over. A bottu (marriage badge) is tied round the bride’s neck by the bridegroom’s sister.”

Concerning the marriage ceremonies of the Yerrakollas, I gather that, on the betrothal day, kumbu must be cooked. Food is given to seven people belonging to seven different septs. They are then presented with betel leaves and areca nuts and four annas tied in a cloth, and the approaching marriage is announced. On the wedding day, the bride and bridegroom are seated on planks on the marriage dais, and milk is sprinkled over them by people of their own sex. A few hours later, the bridegroom takes his seat in the pandal, whither the bride is brought in the arms of her maternal uncle. She sits by the side of the bridegroom, and the Mettu Nayakan links together the little fingers of the contracting couple, and tells them to exchange rings. This is the binding portion of the ceremony, and no bottu is tied round the bride’s neck. At a marriage among the Vekkiliyans, two huts are constructed in an open space outside the village, in front of which a pandal is erected, supported by twelve posts, and roofed with leafy twigs of the pongu tree and Mimusops hexandra. On the following day, the bride and bridegroom are conducted to the huts, the bride being sometimes carried in the arms of her maternal uncle. They worship the ancestral heroes, who are represented by new cloths folded, and placed on a tray. The bridegroom’s sister ties the bottu on the bride’s neck inside her hut, in front of which kumbu grain is scattered. Betel and a fanam (coin) are placed in the bride’s lap. On the third day the bridegroom is dressed up, and, mounting a horse, goes, accompanied by the marriage pots, three times round the huts. He then enters the bride’s hut, and she is carried in the arms of the cousins of the bridegroom thrice round the huts. The contracting couple then sit on planks, and the cousins, by order of the Mettu Nayakan, link their little fingers together. They then enter the bridegroom’s hut, and a mock ploughing ceremony is performed. Coming out from the hut, they take up a child, and carry it three times round the huts. This is, it is said, done because, in former days, the Tottiyan bride and bridegroom had to remain in the marriage huts till a child was born, because the Mettu Nayakan was so busy that he had no time to complete the marriage ceremony until nearly a year had elapsed.

At a wedding among the nomad Tottiyans, a fowl is killed near the marriage (araveni) pots, and with its blood a mark is made on the foreheads of the bride and bridegroom on their entry into the booths. The Vekkiliyans sacrifice a goat or sheep instead of a fowl, and the more advanced among them substitute the breaking of a cocoanut for the animal sacrifice.

In connection with marriage, Mr. Hemingway writes that “the Tottiyans very commonly marry a young boy to a grown woman, and, as among the Konga Vellalas, the boy’s father takes the duties of a husband upon himself until the boy is grown up. Married women are allowed to bestow their favours upon their husbands’ relations, and it is said to be an understood thing that a man should not enter his dwelling, if he sees another’s slippers placed outside as a sign that the owner of them is with the mistress of the house. Intercourse with men of another caste is, however, punished by expulsion, and widows and unmarried girls who go astray are severely dealt with. Formerly, it is said, they were killed.”

At a Tottiyan funeral, fire is carried to the burning-ground by a Chakkiliyan, and the pyre is lighted, not by the sons, but by the sammandhis (relations by marriage).

The Tottiyans of the Madura district observe the worship of ancestors, who are represented by a number of stones set up somewhere within the village boundaries. Such places are called male. According to Mr. Hemingway, when a member of the caste dies, some of the bones are buried in this shed, along with a coin, and a stone is planted on the spot. The stones are arranged in an irregular circle. The circles of the Yerrakollas are exceedingly simple, and recall to mind those of the Nayadis of Malabar, but without the tree. The stones are set up in an open space close to the burning-ground. When a death occurs, a stone is erected among the ashes of the deceased on the last day of the funeral ceremonies (karmandhiram), and worshipped. It is immediately transferred to the ancestral circle. The male of the Vekkiliyan section of the Tottiyans consists of a massive central wooden pillar, carved with male and female human figures, set up in a cavity in a round boulder, and covered over by a conical canopy supported on pillars. When this canopy is set in motion, the central pillar appears to be shaking. This illusion, it is claimed, is due to the power of the ancestral gods. All round the central pillar, which is about ten feet high, a number of stones of different sizes are set up. The central pillar represents Jakkamma and other remote ancestors. The surrounding stones are the representatives of those who have died in recent times. Like the Yerrakollas, the Vekkiliyans erect a stone on the karmandhiram day at the spot where the body was cremated, but, instead of transferring it at once to the ancestral circle, they wait till the day of periodical male worship, which, being an expensive ceremonial, may take place only once in twelve years. If the interval is long, the number of stones representing those who have died meanwhile may be very large. News of the approaching male worship is sent to the neighbouring villages, and, on the appointed day, people of all castes pour in, bringing with them several hundred bulls. The hosts supply their guests with fodder, pots, and a liberal allowance of sugar-cane. Refusal to bestow sugar-cane freely would involve failure of the object of the ceremonial. After the completion of the worship, the bulls are let loose, and the animal which reaches the male first is decorated, and held in reverence. Its owner is presented with cloths, money, etc. The ceremony may be compared with that of selecting the king bull among the Kappiliyans.

Tottiyan Male.

Self-cremation is said62 to have been “habitually practiced by Tottiya widows in the times anterior to British domination; and great respect was always shown to the memory of such as observed the custom. Small tombs termed thipanjankovil (fire-torch temple) were erected in their honour on the high-roads, and at these oblations were once a year offered to the manes of the deceased heroines. Sati was not, however, compulsory among them, and, if a widow lived at all times a perfectly chaste and religious life, she was honoured equally with such as performed the rite.” It is noted, in the Gazetteer of the Madura district, that “sati was formerly very common in the caste, and the two caste goddesses, Jakkamma and Bommayya, are deifications of women who thus sacrificed themselves. Every four years a festival is held in their honour, one of the chief events in which is a bullock race. The owner of the winning animal receives a prize, and gets the first betel and nut during the feast. The caste god is Perumal, who is worshipped in the form of a curry-grinding stone. The story goes that, when the Tottiyans were fleeing to the south, one of their women found her grinding-stone so intolerably heavy that she threw it away. It, however, re-appeared in her basket. Thrown away again, it once more re-appeared, and she then realised that the caste god must be accompanying them.”

“The Tottiyans,” Mr. Hemingway writes, “do not recognise the superiority of Brahmans, or employ them as priests at marriages or funerals. They are deeply devoted to their own caste deities. Some of these are Bommaka and Mallamma (the spirits of women who committed sati long ago), Virakaran or Viramati (a bridegroom who was killed in a fight with a tiger), Pattalamma (who helped them in their flight from the north), and Malai Tambiran, the god of ancestors. Muttalamma and Jakkamma are also found. Malai Tambiran is worshipped in the male. The Tottiyans are known for their uncanny devotion to sorcery and witchcraft. All of them are supposed to possess unholy powers, especially the Nalla Gollas, and they are much dreaded by their neighbours. They do not allow any stranger to enter their villages with shoes on, or on horseback, or holding up an umbrella, lest their god should be offended. It is generally believed that, if any one breaks this rule, he will be visited with illness or some other punishment.”

The Tottiyans have attached to them a class of beggars called Pichiga vadu, concerning whose origin the following legend is narrated. There were, once upon a time, seven brothers and a sister belonging to the Irrivaru exogamous sept. The brothers went on a pilgrimage to Benares, leaving their sister behind. One day, while she was bathing, a sacred bull (Nandi) left its sperm on her cloth, and she conceived. Her condition was noticed by her brothers on their return, and, suspecting her of immorality, they were about to excommunicate her. But they discovered some cows in calf as the result of parthenogenesis, and six of the brothers were satisfied as to the girl’s innocence. The seventh, however, required further proof. After the child was born, it was tied to a branch of a dead chilla tree (Strychnos potatorum), which at once burst into leaf and flower. The doubting brother became a cripple, and his descendants are called Pichiga varu, and those of the baby Chilla varu.

Traivarnika (third caste men).—Recorded, in the Madras Census Report, 1901, as a section of Komatis (who claim to be Vaisyas, or members of the third caste of Manu), who follow the details of Brahmanical customs more scrupulously than the others. They are described, in the Vizagapatam Manual, as followers of the Ramanuja faith, who deal chiefly in gold and silver, and ornaments made thereof.

Triputa (IpomÆa Turpethum, Indian jalap).—A sept of Viramushti.

Tsakala.—The Tsakalas, Sakalas, or Chakalas, who derive their name from chaku (to wash), are the washermen of the Telugu country, and also act as torch and palanquin bearers. In the Census Report, 1901, Tellakula (the white class) is given as a synonym. The Rev. J. Cain writes63 that the “Tellakulavandlu are really washermen who, in consequence of having obtained employment as peons (orderlies) in Government offices, feel themselves to be superior to their old caste people. In their own towns or villages they acknowledge themselves to be washermen, but in other places they disclaim all such connection.” It is noted in the Kurnool Manual (1886) that, in the Cumbum division, “they serve as palanquin-bearers, and are always at the mercy of Government officials, and are compelled to carry baggage for little or no wage. Some are Inamdars (landholders), while others work for wages.”

The ordinary Tsakalas are called Bana Tsakala, in contradistinction to the Guna or Velama Tsakala. Bana is the Telugu name for the large pot, which the washermen use for boiling the clothes.64 The Guna Tsakalas are dyers. In a note on the Velamas, Mr. H. A. Stuart writes65 that “some say they form a sub-division of the Balijas, but this they themselves most vehemently deny, and the Balijas derisively call them Guni Sakalavandlu (hunchbacked washermen). The pride and jealousy of Hindu castes was amusingly illustrated by the Velamas of Kalahasti. The Deputy Tahsildar of that town was desired to ascertain the origin of the name Guni Sakalavandlu, but, as soon as he asked the question, a member of the caste lodged a complaint of defamation against him before the District Magistrate. The nickname appears to have been applied to them because in the northern districts some print chintz, and, carrying their goods in a bundle on their backs, walk stooping like a laden washerman. This derivation is more than doubtful, for, in the Godavari district, the name is Guna Sakalavandlu, guna being the large pot in which they dye the chintzes.”

Like other Telugu castes, the Tsakalas have exogamous septs or intiperu, among which chimala (ant) is of common occurrence. Members of the gummadi sept do not cultivate, or eat the fruit of Cucurbita maxima (gummadi), and those of the magili pula gotra avoid the fruit of Pandanus fascicularis. In like manner, sword beans (Canavalia ensiformis) may not be eaten by those who belong to the thamballa gotra.

Among the sub-divisions of the caste are Reddi Bhumi (Reddi earth), Murikinati, Pakanati (eastern country), Desa, and Golkonda. Of these, some are also sub-divisions of other Telugu classes, as follows:—

Desa or Desur Balija—Kapu.

Murikinati or Murikinadu—Kamsala, Mangala, Mala and Razu.

Pakanati—Balija, Golla, Kamsala, Kapu, and Mala.

Reddi Bhumi—Mala, Mangala.

At the census, 1891, Odde was recorded as a sub-division of the Tsakalas, and it is noted in the Vizagapatam Manual (1869) that the Vadde or Odde Cakali wash clothes, and carry torches in that district. The name Odde Tsakala refers to Oriya-speaking washermen. Telugus call the Oriya country Odra or Odde desam and Oriyas Odra or Odde Vandlu.

Like the Tamil Vannans, the Tsakalas prepare for various castes torches for processional or other ceremonial occasions, and the face cloth, and paddy piled up at the head of a corpse, are their perquisite. The Reddi Bhumi and other sub-divisions wash the clothes of all classes, except Malas and Madigas, while the Desa and Golkonda sub-divisions will wash for both Malas and Madigas, provided that the clothes are steeped in water, and not handed to them, but left therein, to be taken by the washerman. Every village has its families of washermen, who, in return for their services, receive an allowance of grain once a year, and may have land allotted to them. Whenever a goat or fowl has to be sacrificed to a deity, it is the privilege of the Tsakala to cut off the head, or wring the neck of the animal. When Kapu women go on a visit to a distant village, they are accompanied by a Tsakala. At a Kapu wedding, a small party of Kapus, taking with them some food and gingelly (Sesamum) oil, proceed in procession to the house of a Tsakala, in order to obtain from him a framework made of bamboo or sticks, over which cotton threads (dhornam) are wound, and the Ganga idol, which is kept in his custody. The food is presented to him, and some rice poured into his cloth. Receiving these things, he says that he cannot find the dhornam and idol without a torch-light, and demands gingelly oil. This is given to him, and the Kapus return with the Tsakala carrying the dhornam and idol to the marriage house. The Tsakala is asked to tie the dhornam to the pandal (marriage booth) or roof of the house, and he demands some paddy (unhusked rice) which is heaped up on the ground. Standing thereon, he ties the dhornam. At a Panta Kapu wedding, the Ganga idol, together with a goat and kavadi (bamboo pole), with baskets of rice, cakes, betel leaves and areca nuts, is carried in procession to a pond or temple. The washerman, dressed up as a woman, heads the procession, and keeps on dancing and singing till the destination is reached. At the conclusion of the ceremonial, he takes charge of the idol, and goes his way. Among the Panta Reddis of the Tamil country, the idol is taken in procession by the washerman, who goes to every Reddi house, and receives a present of money. At a wedding among the Idigas (Telugu toddy-drawers), the brother of the bride is fantastically dressed, with margosa (Melia Azadirachta) leaves in his turban, and carries a bow and arrow. This kodangi (buffoon) is conducted in procession to the temple by a few married women, and made to walk over cloths spread on the ground by the village washerman. The cloth worn by a Kapu girl at the time of her first menstrual ceremony is the perquisite of the washerwoman.

The tribal deity of the Tsakalas is Madivalayya, in whose honour a feast, called Mailar or Mailar Pandaga, is held in January immediately after the Pongal festival. Small models of pots, slabs of stone such as are used for beating the wet clothes on, and other articles used in their work, are made in rice and flour paste. After they have been worshipped, fruits, cooked vegetables, etc., are offered, and a sheep or goat is sacrificed. Some of its blood is mixed with the food, of which a little is sprinkled over the pots, stones, etc., used during washing operations. If this ceremonial was not observed, it is believed that the clothes, when boiling in the water pot, would catch fire, and be ruined. The festival, which is not observed by the Desa and Golkonda Tsakalas, lasts for five or seven days, and is a time of holiday.

At the first menstrual ceremony, the maternal uncle of the girl has to erect a hut made of seven different kinds of sticks, of which one must be from a Strychnos Nux-vomica tree. The details of the marriage ceremony are very similar to those of the Balijas and Kammas. The distribution of pan-supari, and the tying of the dhornam to the pandal must be carried out by an assistant headman called Gatamdar. On the last day, a goat or sheep is sacrificed to the marriage pots. Liberal potations of toddy are given to those who attend the wedding.

The Tsakalas have a caste beggar called Mailari, or Patam, because he carries a brass plate (patam) with the figure of a deity engraved on it. He is said to be a Lingayat.

Tsalla or Challa (butter-milk).—An exogamous sept of Mala.

Tsanda or Chanda (tax or subscription).—An exogamous sept of Kamma and Medara.

Tulabharam.—In his description66 of the Tulabharam or Tulapurushadanam ceremony performed by the Maharajas of Travancore, Mr. Shungoony Menon explains that the latter word is a compound of three Sanskrit words, tula (scales), purusha (man), and danam (gift, particularly of a religious character). And he gives the following description of the ceremonial, for the performance of which a Tulamandapam is erected, wherein the scales are set up, and the weighing and other rites performed. On the eighth day “after worshipping and making offerings, the Maharaja proceeds to the Tulamandapam, where, in the south-east corner, he is sprinkled with punyaham water. Then he goes to the side room, where the ‘nine grains’ are sown in silver flower pots, where the acharya anoints him with nine fresh-water kalasas. Thence the Maharaja retires to the palace, changes clothes, wears certain jewels specially made for the occasion, and, holding the State sword in his right hand and the State shield in his left, he proceeds to the pagoda; and, having presented a bull elephant at the foot of the great golden flagstaff, and silks, gold coins, jewels and other rich offerings in the interior, he walks round by the Sevaimandapam, and re-enters the Tulamandapam. He walks thrice round the scales, prostrates himself before it, bows before the priests and elderly relatives, and obtains their sanction to perform the Tulapurushadanam. He then mounts the western scale, holding Yama’s and Surya’s pratimas in his right and left hand respectively. He sits facing to the east on a circular heavy plank cut out of fresh jack-wood (Artocarpus integrifolia), and covered with silk. He repeats mantras (prayers) in this position. The opposite or eastern scale then receives the gold, both coined and in ingots, till it not only attains equality but touches the ground, and the scale occupied by the Maharaja rises high. The Maharaja then comes down, and, sitting facing to the east, places the gold, the Tulupurusha pratima and other pratimas, with flowers, sandal paste, etc., in a basin of water, and, meditating on Brahma or the Supreme Being, he offers the contents to Brahmans generically.” Of the gold placed in the scale, one-fourth is divided among the priests who conduct the ceremony, and the remaining three-fourths are distributed among Brahmans. For use in connection with the ceremony, gold coins, called tulabhara kasu, are specially struck. They bear on one side the Malayalam legend Sri Padmanabha, and on the other a chank shell.

In connection with the tulabharam ceremony as performed at the temple of Kali, the goddess of cholera and small-pox at Cranganore in the Cochin State, Mr. T. K. Gopal Panikkar writes as follows.67 “When a man is taken ill of any infectious disease, his relations generally pray to this goddess for his recovery, solemnly covenanting to perform what goes by the name of a thulabharam ceremony. The process consists in placing the patient in one of the scale-pans of a huge balance, and weighing him against gold or more generally pepper (and sometimes other substances as well) deposited in the other scale-pan. Then this weight of the substance is offered to the goddess. This is to be performed right in front of the goddess in the temple yard.”

In connection with weighing ceremonies, it may be noted that, at Mulki in South Canara, there is a temple of Venkateswara, which is maintained by Konkani Brahmans. A Konkani Brahman, who is attached to the temple, becomes inspired almost daily between 10 and 11 A.M. immediately after puja (worship), and people consult him. Some time ago, a rich merchant (a Baniya from Gujarat) consulted the inspired man (Darsana) as to what steps should be taken to enable his wife to be safely delivered. The Darsana told him to take a vow that he would present to the god of the temple silver, sugar-candy, and date fruits, equal in weight to that of his wife. This he did, and his wife was delivered of a male child. The cost of the ceremonial is said to have been five thousand rupees.

Tulabina.—The Tulabinas are a class of cotton-cleaners, who are scattered over the Ganjam district, and said to be more numerous in Cuttack. It is suggested that the name is derived from tula, the beam of a balance, and bina (or vina) a stringed musical instrument. The apparatus used by them in cleaning cotton, which bears a fanciful resemblance to a vina, is suspended by a rope so that it is properly balanced, and the gut-string thereof struck with a dumb-bell shaped implement, to set it vibrating.

Tulasi (Ocimum sanctum, sacred basil).—A sub-division of Velama, and gotra of Komati. The tulsi plant is planted in Hindu houses and worshipped by women, and the wood is made into beads for rosaries.

Tulukkar (Turks).—A Tamil name sometimes applied to Muhammadans.

Tuluva.—Tulu, Tuluva, or Tuluvan occurs as the name of a sub-division of the Tamil Vellalas, and of the Agasas, Billavas, Gaudas, Kumbaras, and other classes in South Canara. The equivalent Tulumar is recorded as a sub-caste of Mavilan, which speaks Tulu.

Concerning the Tuluva Vellalas, Mr. H. A. Stuart writes68 that these are immigrants from the Tulu country, a part of the modern district of South Canara. Mr. Nelson is of opinion that these are the original Vellalas, who were invited to Tondamandalam after its conquest by the Chola king Adondai Chakravarti.69

Tunnaran (tailor).—An occupational sub-division of Nayar.

Tupakala.—Tupakala or Tupaki (gun) has been recorded as an exogamous sept of Balija, Kavarai, and Yanadi.

Turaka.—Recorded as a sept of Kuruba. It is further a Telugu name sometimes applied to Muhammadans. There is also a thief class, known as Bhattu Turaka. (See Bhatrazu.)

Turuvalar.—Recorded in the Salem Manual as a caste name, by which some of the Vedans call themselves. “The Turuvalar are distinguished as the Kattukudugirajati, a name derived from a custom among them which authorizes informal temporary matrimonial arrangements.”

1 Ind. Ant. IV, 1875.

2 Manners, Customs, and Observances.

3 Malabar Law and Custom, 1905.

4 Tarwad: a marumakkathayam family, consisting of all the descendants in the female line of one common female ancestor.

5 The Todas, 1906.

6 Malabar Law and Custom.

7 Madras Census Report, 1891.

8 Ind. Ant., VIII, 1879.

9 Gazetteer of Malabar.

10 Monograph Eth. Survey, Cochin No. 1, 1905.

11 Ind. Ant., IX, 1880.

12 Ind. Ant., IX. 1880.

13 F. S. Mullaly. Criminal Classes of the Madras Presidency.

14 Monograph, Eth. Survey, Bombay, No. 93, Tigala, 1907.

15 Malabar Law and Custom.

16 Lieutenant-General E. F. Burton. An Indian Olio.

17 Monograph Ethnog. Survey of the Cochin State, No. 10, Izhuvas, 1905.

18 The Tinnevelly Shanars, 1849.

19 Madras Census Report, 1871.

20 A fanam is a small gold coin, worth about four annas, which was formerly current in Southern India, but is no longer in circulation.

21 Other kinds of necklaces are the mullapu (jasmine flower) mala, avil (beaten rice) mala, so called from the shape of the links, mani mala or bead necklace, and pavizham (coral) mala. These are all worn by women.

22 Ordinarily, paddy is partly boiled before it is pounded to remove the husk. Raw rice is obtained by pounding the paddy, which has not undergone any boiling.

23 There must in all be five or seven females.

24 The taboot is a model of a Muhammadan mausoleum, intended to represent the tomb of Husain, which is carried in procession during the Moharram festival.

25 Manavalan = bridegroom; Manavati = bride.

26 An Indian Olio.

27 The washerman of the Nambutiris and Nayars is called Veluthedan.

28 Nayars are addressed as Kammal by Tiyans and artisans.

29 The number twelve, so significant in Malabar.

30 Nasrani (Nazarene) is a term for Christians on the west coast.

31 Indian Review, Oct. 1906.

32 The Todas. 1906.

33 Ney = ghi or clarified butter.

34 Aboriginal Tribes of the Nilgiri Hills.

35 Madras Diocesan Magazine, November, 1907.

36 See Madras Museum Bull., IV, 1896, pl. XII.

37 Average 73.

38 Op. cit., Appendix IV, 738.

39 R. Bache. Royal Magazine, August 1901.

40 Ind. Ant., III, 1874.

41 Description of a singular Aboriginal Race inhabiting the summit of the Neilgherry Hills, 1832.

42 Op. cit.

43 A Phrenologist among the Todas, 1873.

44 J. W. Breeks. Account of the Primitive Tribes and Monuments of the Nilgiris, 1873.

45 Catalogue of the Prehistoric Antiquities, Government Museum, Madras, 1901.

46 I have seen this plant growing on the grass in front of the Paikara bungalow.

47 Op. cit.

48 Ellis. History of Madagascar.

49 Tribes inhabiting the Neilgherry Hills. By a German missionary, 1856.

50 Proc. Cambridge Philosoph. Soc., XII, 1904.

51 “Puzhutkina—Shall I throw earth?” Rivers.

52 Called by Breeks ilata, which, Dr. Rivers suggests, is a Badaga name.

53 Journey through Mysore, Canara, and Malabar.

54 Gazetteer of the Anantapur district.

55 A. Chatterton. Monograph on Tanning and Working in Leather. Madras, 1904.

56 Cf. Tanti. Risley, Tribes and Castes of Bengal.

57 Madras Mail, 1906.

58 Mysore and Coorg Gazetteer.

59 Madras Census Report, 1891.

60 Manual of the Madura district.

61 Gazetteer of the Madura district.

62 Manual of the Madura district.

63 Ind. Ant., VIII, 1879.

64 Ibid.

65 Manual of the North Arcot district.

66 History of Travancore, 1878.

67 Malabar and its Folk, Madras, 1900.

68 Madras Census Report, 1891.

69 Manual of the Madura district.