Produced by Jeroen Hellingman and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net/ for Project
Gutenberg (This file was produced from images generously
made available by The Internet Archive)









                               THE MIKIRS

                      FROM THE PAPERS OF THE LATE

                              EDWARD STACK

                 INDIAN CIVIL SERVICE SOMETIME DIRECTOR
                    OF LAND RECORDS AND AGRICULTURE,
             AND SECRETARY TO THE CHIEF COMMISSIONER, ASSAM

                   EDITED, ARRANGED, AND SUPPLEMENTED
                                   BY
                           SIR CHARLES LYALL


             (Published under the orders of the Government
                      of Eastern Bengal and Assam)


                              ILLUSTRATED


                                 LONDON
                               DAVID NUTT
                           57, 59, LONG ACRE
                                  1908








                               PRINTED BY
                   WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED,
                          LONDON AND BECCLES.







                                   To

                              M. R. L.-J.

                              In Memoriam







INTRODUCTORY NOTE.


In 1882 Edward Stack, appointed the first Director of the newly-created
Department of Land Records and Agriculture in Assam, entered upon
his duties in that province, and applied himself with ardour to the
study of its people. He had passed just ten years in the Indian Civil
Service, which he joined in 1872 at the head of his year. These
ten years had been fruitful in varied interest and activity:
the strenuous life of a District and Settlement officer in the
North-Western Provinces; secretariat employment in his own province
and the Government of India; and, just before his translation to
Assam, six months spent in travel in Persia. [1] Activity of mind
and body, and keen interest in the people and speech of all the
countries he lived in, were his strongest characteristics. During
the cold season of 1882-83 he spent several months in moving up and
down the Brahmaputra Valley, learning, observing, and noting. He
acquired a working knowledge of Assamese with surprising rapidity;
with this as his foundation and instrument, he attacked the multitude
of tribal languages which he found impinging on the Aryan pale. To
him more than to any one else, is due the honourable distinction of
the Assam Province in the grammars, vocabularies, and phrase-books
of nearly all the most important of its multitudinous varieties of
Indo-Chinese speech, which have been drawn up by officers and others
who have served there. In 1883 the Report on the Census of 1881 in
Assam was published; and in this Report, mainly the work of the Chief
Commissioner, Sir Charles Elliott, the chapter on Castes and Tribes was
written by Edward Stack. Paragraphs 131-136 deal with the Mikirs, and
much in these represents the result of his careful personal inquiries
among them. His interest in this tribe gradually grew. In 1884 he was
called to take up the work of Secretary to the Chief Commissioner,
and while thus employed he occupied his leisure in studying Mikir. He
became acquainted with a bright young Mikir lad, a convert of the
American Baptist Mission at Nowgong, named Sardoka, to which he
was accustomed to add the names of his sponsor at baptism, Perrin
Kay. With the help of Mr. Neighbor's Vocabulary of English and Mikir,
with illustrative sentences, [2] Stack and Sardoka worked together
at the language, correcting and largely supplementing the material
contained in their text-book. From this they went on to folk-tales,
which were written down, with a careful attention to systematic
orthography, by Stack from Sardoka's dictation, each day's work
being provided with a series of notes elucidating every difficulty
in it. Thus material gathered; and in the course of 1886 Stack had
arranged, when relieved at the end of that year of the duties of
Secretary by my return to Assam, to put together a complete account
of the Mikirs and their language, fully illustrated (as his wont was)
by ample variety of phrase and idiom, and a collection of stories in
Mikir with commentary and vocabulary. But during the latter half of
1886 his health failed. Partly the moist climate of Assam, and partly,
perhaps, unsuspected flaws of constitution, told upon his strong and
active frame; and, after some months of gradually increasing weakness,
he died at sea on the 12th January, 1887, aged 37, just before the
vessel reached Adelaide, in South Australia, where he had planned to
spend his furlough.

A few months after his death his papers were sent to me at Shillong,
and for some time I hoped, with Sardoka's help, to be able to carry
out his purpose. But the steadily increasing pressure of other duties
prevented this. I left Shillong on a long tour in November, 1887,
and soon after my return in the spring of 1888 I was transferred to
the post of Commissioner in the Assam Valley, eventually leaving
the province in the autumn of 1889 for engrossing work elsewhere,
never to return, except for a brief space as Chief Commissioner in
1894. It had become evident from an examination of the materials that
to do what Stack had set before him involved much more labour than I
could give. It was necessary to learn the language from the beginning,
to construct grammar and dictionary, and to retrace the steps which
he had trodden in his progress; and this with an aptitude and power
of acquisition far inferior to his. Accordingly, on my departure from
Assam, the papers were made over to others, with whom they remained
until, on the organization under Dr. G. A. Grierson of the Linguistic
Survey of Northern India, they were again inquired for, and utilized,
so far as the scope of that work admitted, in preparing an account
of the Mikir language for insertion in the Survey. [3]

In 1904, when Sir Bampfylde Fuller had obtained the sanction of the
Government of India to his scheme for the preparation of a series
of descriptive monographs on the more important tribes and castes of
Assam, he proposed to me to undertake an account of the Mikirs, based
on Stack's materials. There were several reasons why I hesitated to
accept the task. It was many years since I had left the province,
and official work and other studies claimed time and leisure. The
materials were themselves in the rough--mere notes and jottings,
sufficient for the man who carried the main part of his knowledge in
his head, but by no means easy to interpret or set in order for one who
had no such knowledge. They dated, too, from twenty years back, and in
the interval great changes had occurred in the material development
of the tract where the Mikirs live, which is now traversed by the
Assam-Bengal Railway. I decided, nevertheless, to make the attempt,
and, however imperfectly, to do something to perpetuate the work of a
man to whom I was most intimately bound by affection, and whose great
powers and attractive personality were the admiration and delight of
all who knew him. The present volume is the result.

In addition to Stack's notes, I received from Assam three sets of
replies to ethnographical questions which had been circulated to
persons acquainted with the tribe. These were from Mr. W. C. M. Dundas,
Subdivisional Officer of North Cachar, and the Rev. P. E. Moore
and Mr. Allen of the American Baptist Mission. [4] These replies,
which were not very detailed, while quite independent in origin,
agreed closely with Stack's data, and showed that the lapse of years
had not made the latter inapplicable to the present time. In the
following pages any information drawn from these sources has been
duly acknowledged.

It was explained in the Introduction to Major Gurdon's Monograph on
the Khasis (1907) that the order and arrangement of subjects to be
treated in dealing with each tribe had been prescribed by authority;
and Stack's notes had to be brought within this framework. As will
be seen, under certain heads not much information is forthcoming; and
perhaps the more searching standard of inquiry applied by ethnologists
in the present day might demand more exhaustive treatment of some
points in this presentment of the Mikir people. This, however, must
be left for our successors.

Section I has been expanded by adding numerical data from the last
Census (1901), and measurements from Lieut.-Colonel L. A. Waddell's
Tribes of the Brahmaputra Valley (1900). Section II (Domestic Life)
is entirely due to Stack. The same is the case with Section III (Laws
and Customs), except the Appendix. Section IV (Religion) is wholly
Stack's; reading the careful and minute account which it contains of
the funeral ceremonies, one is strongly impressed by the thoroughness
which he brought to his investigations. Section V (Folk-lore) contains
translations of three of the folk-tales written down in Mikir by Stack,
of which the original text, with an interlinear rendering, is given
in Section VI. These translations, in both Sections, have been made
by me. Stack's manuscript supplied the Mikir text, which has been
faithfully copied, and a number of explanatory notes, but no connected
rendering. I have therefore had to depend upon my study of the language
in the linguistic materials collected by him, and those contained in
Mr. Neighbor's vocabulary and Sardoka's dictionary and phrase-book. I
had hoped to have the assistance of Sardoka himself in revising the
translations. He served for many years in the Assam Secretariat after
Stack's death, and helped in the preparation of the specimens of
Mikir for the Linguistic Survey in 1902; but in September, 1904, he
was transferred as mauzadar, or Revenue collector and administrator,
to the important mauza or territorial division in the Mikir Hills
called Duar Baguri, now divided between the districts of Nowgong
and Sibsagar; and on the 8th March, 1905, he most unhappily died
there of cholera. Other help was not forthcoming. I must, therefore,
ask for the indulgence of those better acquainted than I with Mikir
in regard to these renderings. Probably they contain many errors of
detail; but at least they seem to hang together as a whole, and to
be consistent with what I could ascertain elsewhere of the fashion
of Mikir speech. The notes are chiefly from Stack. The sketch of the
Grammar in Section VI is reproduced (in a somewhat abridged form)
from that which I contributed to the Linguistic Survey. Stack himself
had drawn up no grammar, though he had put together much illustrative
material from which the mechanism of the language could be deduced. The
main facts are clear and comparatively simple, though there are not
a few idiomatic expressions in the texts of which it is difficult to
give a satisfactory account.

For the last Section, that dealing with the probable affinities of
the Mikir race, I must take the full responsibility. It is the result
of the collation and comparison of materials from many sources, and
especially those contained in the three volumes of the Linguistic
Survey treating of the Tibeto-Burman family of speech. The authorities
on which I have relied are indicated in the text.

In the Bibliography I have entered only those works (so far as known
to me) which contribute something to our knowledge of the Mikirs. I
have not thought it necessary to specify mere casual allusions to the
tribe, or to quote imperfect lists of words which have been superseded
by more accurate material.

For the coloured illustrations I have to thank Miss Eirene
Scott-O'Connor (now Mrs. Philip Rogers), and for the photographs
Major Gurdon and Mr. W. C. M. Dundas; the reproductions are
by Messrs. W. Griggs and Sons. The map (by Mr. J. G. Bartholomew)
showing the localities inhabited by the Mikirs is taken from the new
volumes of the Imperial Gazetteer of India. An explanation of the
system adopted for rendering Mikir words will be found on p. 74.


    C. J. LYALL.

    April, 1908.







TABLE OF CONTENTS.


                                               PAGES

Introductory Note                           vii-xiii


Section I.

GENERAL.

    Numbers and Distribution                     1-2
    Habitat                                      2-3
    Physical characters                            4
    Traditions as to origin                      4-5
    Dress                                        5-6
    Tattooing                                      6
    Jewellery                                      6
    Weapons                                        6


Section II.

DOMESTIC LIFE.

    Occupations                                    7
    Houses                                       7-9
    Furniture                                   9-10
    Manufactures                                  10
    Agriculture and crops                      10-11
    Lads' clubs (riso-mar)                     11-12
    Hunting and fishing                           12
    Food                                       12-13
    Drink                                         13
    Luxuries                                      14


Section III.

LAWS AND CUSTOMS.

    Sections or Divisions                         15
    Exogamous groups                           15-17
    Personal names                                17
    Marriage                                   17-19
    Female chastity                               19
    Polygamy                                   19-20
    Divorce                                       20
    Words for relationship by blood or
        marriage                               20-21
    Inheritance                                   21
    Property in land                           21-22
    Mikir mauzas                                  22
    Decision of disputes: village councils        22
    War                                           22
    Outsiders admitted to tribe                   23
    Appendix: List of exogamous groups as
        given by other authorities             23-27


Section IV.

RELIGION.

    General character of popular belief in
        ghosts and spirits, and a future life  28-29
    Amulets                                       30
    The gods and their worship                 30-34
    Divination and magic                       34-37
    Oaths and imprecations                        37
    Funeral ceremonies                         37-42
    Festivities                                   43
    Tabu                                          43


Section V.

FOLK-LORE AND FOLK-TALES.

    Character of Mikir Folk-tales              44-46
    Three stories translated:--
        1. Story of a Frog                     46-48
        2. The Orphan and his Uncles           48-55
        3. Harata Kunwar                       55-70
    Appendix: The Legend of Creation           70-72


Section VI.

LANGUAGE.

    Outline of Mikir grammar                   73-87
    Mikir text of three stories:--
        1. Story of a Frog                     88-94
        2. The Orphan and his Uncles          95-112
        3. Harata Kunwar                     113-150


Section VII.

AFFINITIES.

    The place of the Mikirs in the
        Tibeto-Burman Family                 151-172


Bibliography                                 173-177

Index                                        179-183







LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.


    A Mikir Man                             Frontispiece
    A Group of Mikirs (North Cachar)--1   To face page 5
    A Mikir Girl                                       6
    Plan of Mikir House                          Page  8
    Mikir House: Family Group            To face page 10
    A Group of Mikirs (North Cachar)--2               23
    A Mikir Boy                                       56
    An Old Mikir Woman                                59
    Women pounding Paddy                             132
    Map showing Locality of Mikirs      at end of volume







THE MIKIRS


I.

GENERAL.

    Numbers--Habitat--Physical appearance--Traditions as to
    origin--Affinities--Dress--Tattooing--Ornaments--Weapons.


The Mikirs are one of the most numerous and homogeneous of the many
Tibeto-Burman races inhabiting the Province of Assam. In the tables
of the Report on the Census of 1901 the number of Mikirs by race is
given as 87,046, and that of speakers of the Mikir language as 82,283;
but there are curious discrepancies in the details. In no district
are the speakers of Mikir identical in number with those returned as
Mikir by race; and it is remarkable that in several, more persons are
returned as speaking the language than as belonging to the tribe. On
the other hand, in the North Cachar Hills none of the 1446 Mikirs
by race are shown as speaking Mikir, which is manifestly absurd. The
following are the figures:--


    District.                 Mikirs by race.   Speaking Mikir.

    Cachar Plains                         717               728
    Sylhet                                156               166
    Kamrup                             10,587             8,026
    Darrang                             2,646             3,108
    Nowgong                            35,732            34,273
    Sibsagar                           22,909            22,803
    North Cachar                        1,446             nil.
    Khasi and Jaintia Hills            12,840            13,142
    Elsewhere                              13                37
                                       ======            ======
    Total                              87,046            82,283


In Kamrup, Nowgong, and Sibsagar it may reasonably be assumed that the
Mikirs returned as speaking some other language (probably Assamese)
also spoke the speech of their tribe, being bilingual like other
non-Aryan races in Assam; and the 809 persons in Darrang, the Khasi
and Jaintia Hills, and elsewhere, returned as speaking Mikir, though
not as Mikirs by race, must really have belonged to the tribe. Since
1891, when the number of Mikirs was returned as 94,829, there has
been a considerable falling-off, due to the terrible ravages of the
disease called Kala-azar [5] in the Nowgong and Kamrup districts.

The Mikirs inhabit in greatest strength the hills called after them,
the isolated mountainous block which fills the triangle between the
Brahmaputra on the north, the Dhansiri valley on the east, and the
Kopili and Jamuna valleys on the west and south; this tract is now
divided between the Nowgong and Sibsagar districts. They are also
found in considerable numbers on the northern skirts of the Assam
Range, in Nowgong, the Khasi and Jaintia Hills, and Kamrup, and were
once numerous, as testified by the local place- and river-names, in
North Cachar. They have settled in the plains, and taken to plough
cultivation, in Nowgong and Kamrup, and have also established recent
settlements of the same kind north of the Brahmaputra in Darrang. The
great bulk, however, remain a hill tribe, occupying the forest-clad
northern slopes of the central range of Assam, and practising the
primitive method of cultivation by axe, fire, and hoe.

In the Mikir Hills there are summits which attain 4,000 feet, but
the greater part of the block is of much lower elevation. The rock is
chiefly gneiss and granite, with few traces of overlying formations;
and the whole is clothed with forest growth, chiefly of bamboo, figs
of different species, cinnamon, Artocarpus, nahor (Mesua ferrea), and a
few other trees valuable for their timber. The soil is light, and soon
exhausted by cropping; it is naturally most fertile in the valleys,
where the deepest deposits are found. The Mikir Hills, in 1886 when
Mr. Stack wrote, had been very little explored by Europeans, and their
interior was almost unknown. To the north, from Koliabor to Kaziranga,
they abut on the Brahmaputra, only a narrow strip of country, traversed
by the southern Grand Trunk road, intervening between them and the
river. This strip has few inhabitants and little cultivation, and is
covered with high grass and cotton tree (semal) jungle, the haunt of
wild buffalo and rhinoceros. To the east is the great Nambar forest,
a dense area of high trees occupying the Dhansiri valley from Dimapur
to within ten miles of Golaghat. To the south-west is the valley of the
Jamuna, now traversed by the railway from Gauhati to Lumding, a region
of tall grass and sparse tree jungle. The plain which is formed by the
alluvial valley of the Kopili (or Kupli) river and its affluents, the
Jamuna and the Diyaung (the latter coming from the North Cachar Hills),
next intervenes; and to the west the land rises again in the northern
skirts of the Jaintia and Khasi Hills. Here the country is of the same
character as in the Mikir Hills, but better known. It consists of a
series of plateaus or shelves rising from the level of the valley,
composed of gneiss and granite, and covered with a red clay soil,
the result of the decomposition of the metamorphic sandstones which
overlay the igneous rock. The jungle here also is chiefly of bamboo,
with a few patches of valuable forest, chiefly sal (Shorea robusta),
still surviving; but most of the larger timber has been destroyed by
the secular practice of axe and fire cultivation.

It is in this hilly country, and in the plains at its base, that the
Mikir people are found. The region is continuous, and is distributed,
as the figures just given show, between the districts (from east to
west) of Sibsagar, Nowgong, North Cachar, the Jaintia and Khasi Hills,
and Kamrup. It is malarious and unhealthy for unacclimatized persons,
with a very moist climate, and is wanting in the breezy amenities of
the higher plateaus of the Khasi and Jaintia Hills; but (save during
the recent prevalence of Kala-azar) the inhabitants appear to have
acquired some degree of immunity against the noxious influences of
the locality. Side by side with the Mikirs dwell, in the Mikir Hills,
the Rengma Nagas (who are recent immigrants from the eastern side
of the Dhansiri); in the Jamuna and Diyaung valleys, the Dimasa or
Kacharis; in the Jaintia Hills, the Kukis and Syntengs; and in the
Khasi Hills and along the Nowgong and Kamrup borders, the Lalungs
and a few settlements of Khasis.

The name Mikir is that given to the race by the Assamese: its origin is
unknown. They call themselves Arlèng, which means man in general. [6]
In features the men resemble Assamese of the lower classes more than
most of the Tibeto-Burman races. Their colour is light yellowish brown,
and the girls are often fair. The men are as tall as the majority of
the hill races of Assam, Colonel L. A. Waddell's eighteen specimens
averaging 1633 millimetres, or 5·354 feet, in height, the tallest
being 5·583 feet, and the shortest 5·108. The average is noticeably
higher than that of their neighbours the Khasis. The average head
measurements in these specimens were--length, 181 millimetres; breadth,
141; cephalic index, 77·9. The nose is broad at the base, and often
flat, giving a nasal index of 85·1, and an orbito-nasal of 107·7. The
facial hair is scanty, and only a thin moustache is worn. The front of
the head is sometimes, but not generally, shorn. The hair is gathered
into a knot behind, which hangs over the nape of the neck. The body is
muscular, and the men are capable of prolonged exertion. In frontier
expeditions in Assam they have frequently served (like the Khasis)
as porters, and carry heavy loads, the burden being borne upon the
back and secured by a plaited bamboo (or cane) strap passing round
the forehead (Mikir, sinàm).

The traditions of the race point to the Eastern portion of the Khasi
and Jaintia Hills, bordering on the Kopili (or Kupli) river (where
many still remain), as their original abode. They speak of this as
Nihàng, in contradistinction to Nilip, the Duar Baguri or Nowgong
region which they now inhabit. Being harassed by warfare between Khasi
(or Synteng) chiefs, they resolved to move into Ahom territory, and
sent emissaries to claim protection from the Ahom governor of Raha
(Nowgong District). These unfortunate persons, being unable to make
themselves understood, were straightway buried alive in the embankment
of a tank which the governor was excavating. The hostilities which
ensued were concluded by an embassage to the king himself in Sibsagar,
and the Mikirs have ever since been living peacefully in the territory
assigned to them. They have dim traditions of a king of their own
in the good old days, whom they call Sòt Recho, and are said by
Mr. Stack to expect his return to earth. His seat is said to have
been in Ròng-khàng (or Ròng-hàng), perhaps connected with Ni-hàng
(Ròng, village). They had fights with the Dimasa or Hill Kacharis,
and were led by Thòng Nòkbe and other captains, who established a fort
at Diyaung-mukh (the junction of the Diyaung and Kopili rivers), the
ruins of which are still to be seen. Along the northern skirts of the
Mikir Hills there are remains of old brick buildings and sculptures,
which are now ascribed to the Gods. Old men tell historical legends to
the young ones, and there are also legendary songs, sung at festivals;
but there is no class specially set apart for the preservation of such
traditions, and the memory of the race is short. They are a mild and
unwarlike people, and are said to have given up the use of arms when
they placed themselves under the protection of the Ahom kings.

They claim kinship with no other tribe in Assam, and are, in fact,
difficult to group with other branches of the great Tibeto-Burman
stock to which they undoubtedly belong. The conclusions as to their
affinities which it seems legitimate to draw from their institutions,
culture, and language, will be found stated in Section VII. of this
Monograph.

In dress the Mikir man imitates the Khasi, to whom he seems to have
lived in subjection in former times. On his head he now wears a turban
(pohu, poho), but formerly the Khasi cap (phu-tup), of black or red
cloth, was more usually worn. On his loins he wears a dhoti (rikòng)
of cotton cloth, and sometimes, if wealthy, of silk. His coat is a
sleeveless striped jacket (choi), with a long fringe covering the
buttocks and coming round in front (choi-apre). In cold weather he
wears a thick wrapper (called in Assamese bor kapor) of eri silk
(pe-inki). The legs are uncovered, and shoes are not worn.

The women wear a petticoat (pini), secured round the waist by an
ornamental girdle (vànkòk). The petticoat is of white and red striped
eri cloth. The upper part of the body is covered with the ji-so, a
wrapper passing under the arms and drawn tight over the breasts. The
head is uncovered, and the hair is drawn back and tied in a knot
behind. In the funeral dances, however, the head is covered with a
black scarf (ji-so ke-ik).

The men do not tattoo any part of the body. The women, on attaining
puberty, usually tattoo a perpendicular line with indigo down the
middle of the forehead, the nose, upper lip, and chin; no other part
of the body is tattooed.

A characteristic ornament is a large silver tube inserted into the
lobe of the ear, which is much distended thereby; this is called
kadèngchinro, and weighs three or four rupees. The ordinary hanging
earring (suspended from the outer part of the ear) of gold or silver
is called no-rik. Necklaces (lèk) are worn, of gold or silver and
coral beads, as by the Khasis. Rings (arnàn) and bracelets (roi),
of gold and silver, are worn. The feathers of the bhim-raj are worn
in the turban on festal occasions, as among the Khasis.

The national weapons are the long knife (nòk, nòk-jir), by the English
commonly called by the Hindi name dao, the spear (chir), and the bow
(thai, bòp-thaili) made of bamboo, with a string of tough bamboo
fibre. In these there is nothing peculiar.







II.

DOMESTIC LIFE.

    Occupations--Houses--Furniture--Implements and
    utensils--Manufactures--Agriculture--Riso mar, or lads'
    clubs--Crops--Hunting--Fishing--Food and Drink.


The Mikir people have always been agriculturists. Their villages,
in the hills which are their proper habitat, are set up in clearings
in the forest, and are shifted from place to place when the soil has
been exhausted by cropping. Their houses are large and substantial,
and are strongly put together. The Mikirs are not now (if they ever
were [7]), as Colonel Dalton relates in his Ethnology of Bengal, in
the habit of lodging several families, or even the whole village, in
one house. The inhabitants of a house are all of one family, but may
often be numerous, as married sons frequently live with their parents.

The Mikir house is built on posts, and the floor is raised several
feet above the ground. The material of the super-structure is bamboo,
slit and flattened out, and the whole is thatched with san-grass. A
moderate elevation, with a flat top, is preferred for building;
a slope will be taken if no better site can be found.

The house is divided lengthwise by a partition called arpòng, or
nòksèk-arpòng, into kàm, the guests' or servants' chamber, and kut,
the living-room of the family. Kàm is on the right side as you enter,
and the only door into the house leads into it. In kàm a platform or
chang, called tibung, raised above the floor the diameter of a bamboo,
runs along the outside wall; this may be divided off laterally into
rooms for sleeping. In kut, separated off by a partition on the side of
the outer wall, is a long, narrow chamber, one bamboo's diameter lower
than the floor, called vo-roi, in which the fowls and goats are kept at
night; it has a separate door, called vo-roi-amehàn. In kut, towards
the back, is the fireplace (mehip). The space before it is dàm-thàk,
where the family sleep, and the bamboo paddy-receptacle stands. Behind
the fireplace is dàm-buk, a vacant space, where the grown-up daughter
or old woman sleeps. Between the fire and the vo-roi is the rice-pot
(sàng-ràngtik), holding the stock of husked rice. Between the fire and
the partition (arpòng) is the kut-athèngthòr, a space for miscellaneous
articles. Above the vo-roi a shelf is raised under the roof, called
vo-harlip, for pots, etc. Opposite the fireplace is a door leading
into kàm.

In kàm, if the house is large, there are two fireplaces. Before the
fire the space is called kàm-athèngthòt, or nòksèk. In the corner of
the front wall and the partition (arpòng) are put the water-chungas
(làng-bòng); it is called làng-tenun. The front door is called hòngthu,
the back door pàn, or pàn-hòngthu.

The front veranda is called hòng-kup. The tibung runs out into it, and
the part beyond the front wall of the house is called thèng-roi-rai,
"the place for bringing (or storing) firewood" (thèng). Beyond the
hòng-kup the platform extends unroofed (hòng-plàng). If the house be
a large one, a hòng-pharla, roofed over, for strangers to lodge in,
is made on the right side of the hòng-plàng, but disconnected with the
thèng-roi-rai; between it and the latter is the ladder to gain access
to the platform (dòndòn), usually a tree-trunk with notches cut in
it for the feet. The hòng-pharla may extend also across the front of
the house; it is roofed over, but open towards the house. Similarly,
at the back of the house is the pàng-hòngkup, or back veranda, and
the unroofed pàng beyond. No ladder gives access to this.

Under the house are the pigsties, phàk-roi, and in front is a yard
or compound (tikup), usually fenced round.

The furniture of the house is of the simplest description. The floor,
or a raised platform of bamboo, serves as a bed. A block of wood
(inghoi; Ass. pira) is used as a stool to sit on. Baskets of bamboo and
cane are employed as cupboards in which to store the household goods,
the paddy, and the clothes. These baskets are of various shapes and
sizes, and bear many different names. Joints of bamboo (Ass. chunga;
Mikir, làng-bòng) are used for holding water, and also as boxes to
contain valuables of all kinds.

The Mikirs have few manufactures. Weaving is done by the women of
the family on rude wooden looms (pè-theràng), the cotton raised in
their fields being previously spun on a wheel (mi-thòngràng). They
also raise eri silk (inki), the cocoon of the Attacus ricini, fed
on the castor-oil plant, and weave it into coarse fabrics, chiefly
the bor-kapor, or blanket, used in the cold weather. They dye their
thread with indigo (sibu), a small patch of which is grown near every
house. The indigo is not derived from Indigofera, but from a species
of Strobilanthes, generally identified as S. flaccidifolius. Mr. Stack
notes that there are two kinds, bu-thi and bu-jir; the latter, he says,
is trained up poles, and has a longer leaf. The leaves of the plant are
bruised in a wooden mortar and mixed with water, and the blue colour
develops, as in ordinary indigo, in a few days' time by chemical
change. Besides indigo, they use a red dye, the source of which is
probably the same as the Khasi red dye (see Khasi Monograph, p. 60).

Blacksmiths (hemai) have existed among them from remote times, and
they can fashion their own daos and various kinds of knives. They
also make needles (for which old umbrella-ribs are in much request),
and hooks for fishing.

They also make their own gold and silver ornaments (necklaces,
bracelets, rings, ear-ornaments).

Pottery is made without the wheel, as among the Khasis (Monograph,
p. 61). It is thick and durable, and well burnt. There are few potters
among them, and the accomplishment is not common.

In all these branches of manufacture the tendency, with the increase
of intercourse and the cessation of isolation, is to give up domestic
workmanship and rely more upon outside markets.

The main crops are summer rice (maikum), sown with the first rains
and reaped in November-December, and cotton (phelo), also grown in
the rains and gathered in the cold weather. The system of jhuming, by
which land is prepared for cultivation by cutting down and burning
the jungle, is in no respect different from the practice of all
hill-tribes in the province. They do not plant out their rice, nor
use the plough in cultivating it. There is no irrigation.

Besides these main crops, castor-oil is grown for feeding the eri
silkworm; maize (thèngthe), turmeric (tharmit), yams (hèn, Colocasia),
red pepper (birik), aubergines (Hindi, baingan; Mikir, hepi), and
ginger (hànso) are also cultivated in small patches. Another crop is
lac, grown on branches of the arhar plant (see Khasi Monograph, p. 47).

When Mr. Stack wrote, the most important institution from the point of
view of agriculture was the association or club of the dekas (Ass.),
or young men (from twelve to sixteen, eighteen, or twenty years of
age) of the village (Mikir, ri-so-mar); but it is reported that this
useful form of co-operation is now falling into desuetude. In former
days the village youths (as in Naga-land) used to live together in
a house by themselves, called in Mikir maro or teràng (in Assamese,
deka-chang). [8] Now there is no maro, and the risomar live in the
gaonbura's house, in the hòng-pharla, the place in which strangers
are lodged. They send a boy to bring their food from their homes,
and all eat together. Each man's share is brought in a leaf-bundle
(àn-bòr) to keep it warm. The gaonbura calls the people together, and
proposes that, having so many lads in the village, they should start a
lads' club. If agreed to, the union of the risomar is formed, and the
lads take up their quarters in his house. The club is organized under
regular officers appointed by themselves. The gaonbura has general
authority over them, but their own chief is the klèng sarpo. Next comes
the klèng-dun, then the sodar-kethe, then the sodar-so or phàndiri,
then the sàngho-kerai ("he who fetches the company"), then the barlòn
("carrier of the measuring-rod"). Other officers are the chèng-brup-pi
and chèng-brup-so (drummers, chief and lieutenant), the phàn-kri
(the lad who waits on the klèng sarpo), the motàn ar-e and motàn arvi
("the right and left outside strips of the field"), the làngbòng-po
("carrier of the water-chunga"), arphèk-po ("carrier of the broom"),
and the chinhàk-po ("carrier of the basket of tools"). The risomar
all work in the fields together, each having his own strip (a-mo)
to till. The village fields are allotted each to one house, and the
grown men confine their work to their own fields; but the risomar go
the round of all the fields in the village.

Work is enforced by penalties. They used to roast those who shirked
their share; now they beat them for failure to work. If the klèng
sarpo finds a lad refractory, he reports him to the gaonbura.

Villages like having deka clubs. They help greatly in cultivation,
practice dancing and singing, and keep alive the village usages and
tribal customs. They are in great request at funerals, which are the
celebrations in which most spirit is shown.

Hunting, with spears and dogs, is practised. The objects of the chase
are deer and wild pig; also the iguana (Ass. gui) and tortoise. The
dog barks and follows up the track by scent. They also set traps
(arhàng) for tigers, with a spear placed so as to be discharged from
a spring formed by a bent sapling; twice round the tiger's pug gives
the height of his chest, at which the spear is pointed; a rope of
creeper stretched across the path releases the spring when the tiger
passes that way and comes against it.

Fishing is done with rod and line, but chiefly by means of traps and
baskets, as in Assam generally. The trap (ru) is a basket of bamboo,
constructed so that the fish can get in but cannot get out, and is
fixed in an opening in a fence (a-ru-pat) placed in a stone dam built
across a stream.

The staple food is rice, which is husked in the usual way, by being
pounded with a long pestle in a wooden mortar, and cooked by the
women of the family. The flesh of cows is not eaten; there is said
to be a dislike even to keep them, but this prejudice is now dying
out. Milk is not drunk. Fowls, goats, and pigs are kept for food,
but eaten chiefly at sacrifices; eggs are eaten. A delicacy is the
chrysalis of the eri silkworm (Attacus ricini); it is eaten roasted and
curried. Children (but not grown folk) cook and eat crabs and rats. In
cooking meat, spits (òk-akròn) are used; the meat is either cut up
and skewered, or a large lump is placed whole on the embers; it is
thoroughly cooked. Fish is cut into slices and put in the sun to dry,
or smoked. Meat also is cut into strips and dried on frames in the sun.

The vegetables are those commonly used by the Assamese. Sugar-cane
(nòk) is not much grown. A favourite seasoning is mint (lopòng-brik).

Men and women eat together, within the house. The right hand is used
in eating. Leaf-plates are most used, but platters of pot-metal are
also found. No knife is used in eating: the meat is cut up beforehand.

The first meal is cooked and eaten at 7 or 8 a.m., and consists of
rice. The evening meal is cooked after the day's field-work is over,
unless there be a cook in the house. At each meal a pinch of the food
is put aside for the God (arnàm).

The national drink is rice-beer (hòr, hòrpo), which is made by each
household for itself. The rice is cooked, and well broken up on a
mat. It is then mixed with a ferment called thàp (Bengali, bakhar),
made of powdered rice with certain kinds of leaves pounded into it,
and the whole dried for use as required. After this has been thoroughly
mixed with the boiled rice, the latter is heaped up and covered with
plantain leaves, and put aside in the house. In three or four days,
in the hot weather, fermentation sets in; in the cold weather a
longer time is required. It is then put into an earthern jar or kalsi
(Beng.) and water added, after which it is emptied into a conical
basket, whence it is allowed to strain through a bamboo joint into a
pot below. To make hòr (Ass. modh), rice is taken from the basket and
warmed with water, which is strained off, and is the modh or hòrpo; the
rice is thrown to the pigs. The better and stronger beer is that which
was drained off the original conical basket, and is called hòr-alàng.

Aràk (Hind.) is the spirit distilled from the fermented rice mixed
with water. The still is a rude one of earthern pots connected by a
bamboo. A stronger stuff is made by distilling hòr-alàng.

Hòr will keep good for two months if left untouched. It is a common
family drink. Gourds are used for keeping it in and carrying it about
for use.

Drunkenness is not common in the villages, and the ceremonies and
festivities at which beer is drunk are not noisy. The me or general
council, however, when large quantities are consumed, is sometimes
noisy.

Opium is used to a large extent by the Mikirs as by other Assamese
(Mr. Allen states that nearly all male adults indulge in it). Tobacco
is smoked, and also chewed with betel. The bowl of the tobacco-pipe
is made of burnt clay or of bamboo root. Betel-nut (kove; Khasi,
kwai) is largely consumed in the usual way, with lime and pan-leaf
(bithi); and (as among the Khasis) time and distance are computed by
the interval required to chew a nut. (The phrase is ingtàt e-òm-ta er,
"the time it takes to chew the nut and pan-leaf red": ingtàt, roll
for chewing; e-, one; òm, chew; er, red.)







III.

LAWS AND CUSTOMS.

    Internal structure--Sections or divisions--Exogamous
    groups--Marriage laws--Common names--Marriage ceremony--Female
    chastity--Polygamy--Divorce--Words for relationship by
    blood and marriage--Inheritance--Property in land--Decision
    of disputes--Village council--Relations with neighbouring
    races--Appendix: Lists of exogamous groups given by other
    authorities compared with those given by Mr. Stack.


The Mikir people proper--that is, those who continue to live in the
hills--are divided into three sections, called Chintòng, Rònghàng,
and Amri. In the days of the migration eastward from the Kopili region,
Amri stayed behind, or loitered, and Chintòng and Rònghàng waited for
him as they moved from stage to stage. At last, on arriving at the
Dhansiri river, Chintòng and Rònghàng resolved to be only two sections
in future. The laggard Amri afterwards arrived, but was not received
back into full fellowship. He has no honour at the general festivals,
and in the distribution of rice-beer at feasts he gets no gourd for
himself, but has to drink from those of the other two. These are the
conditions as they exist in the Mikir Hills and Nowgong (Duar Baguri);
in Ni-hàng, however (the region of the Kopili), Amri is on an equality
with the others. The Mikir Hills are chiefly inhabited by the Chintòng
section, North Cachar and the hilly parts of Nowgong by the Rònghàng,
and the Khasi and Jaintia Hills by Amri; but individuals of all three
are found dwelling among the others.

These names, however, do not indicate true tribal divisions, supposed
to be derived from a common ancestor and united in blood, and are
probably in reality local- or place-names. Amri, in particular, seems
to be a Khasi river-name, and Rònghàng is the legendary site of Sòt
Recho's capital. The real tribal exogamous divisions run through all
three, and are called kur (a Khasi word: Assamese, phoid). Each of
the three sections of the race has within it the same kurs, and the
individuals belonging to these kurs, whether in Chintòng, Rònghàng,
or Amri, observe the same rules of exogamy.

The number and names of the kurs, or exogamous groups, are differently
given by different authorities. The differences appear to be partly
explained by the fact that one authority has taken for a principal
group-name what another has entered as a sub-group under another
larger section. In an appendix will be found the grouping according
to several different authorities. Here the data given by Mr. Stack,
who appears to have relied chiefly on information obtained in Duar
Baguri, are reproduced.

He found that the people recognized four kurs, called respectively
Ingti, Teràng, [9] Lèkthe, and Timung, under which the smaller groups
(also called kur) are ranged thus--


        I. Ingti.                  III. Lèkthe.

            (1) Taro.                  (1) Hànse.
            (2) Katar.                 (2) Tutso.
            (3) Hènsèk.                (3) Bòngrun.
            (4) Inglèng.               (4) Kràmsa.


        II. Teràng.                IV. Timung.

            (1) Be.                    (1) Tòkbi.
            (2) Kro.                   (2) Sèngnar.
            (3) Ingjar.                (3) Ròngphar.


As already mentioned, these kurs are exogamous: an individual belonging
to kur Ingti must go outside that kur for his wife; and similarly
Teràng, Lèkthe, and Timung cannot marry wives drawn from within the
kur. The sub-groups are, of course, as parts of the larger groups,
also exogamous; and it is easy to perceive how one informant may
count as a principal group-division what another may regard as a
sub-division. All the kurs are now socially on an equality, and have
no scruples as to eating together or intermarriage; their traditional
rank is, however, as given above. Ingti is said to have been in former
times the priestly clan (Ass. gohain); Teràng also claims this dignity,
but is thought to be of lower rank; but in both cases the office
has fallen entirely into desuetude. Lèkthe is said to have been the
military clan, while Timung represented the rest of the people.

The Mikirs who settled in the plains of Nowgong and took to plough
cultivation are called Dumrali by the Mikirs and Tholua by the
Assamese. They are said to have acted as interpreters to the mission
which visited the Ahom king at Sibsagar. They also have the same kurs
as the other three sections of hill Mikirs.

The children are counted to their father's kur, and cannot marry within
it. They may, however, marry their first cousins on the mother's
side, and indeed this appears to have been formerly the most usual
match. This absence of matriarchal institutions strongly marks off
the Mikirs from the Khasis, from whom they have in other respects
borrowed much.

The following are common personal names among the Mikirs:--


                        MEN.        WOMEN.

                        Sardoka.    Karèng.
                        Mòn.        Kache.
                        Dili.       Kabàn.
                        There.      Kamàng.
                        Kàngther.   Ka-èt.
                        Tamoi.      Ka-jir.
                        Temèn.      Katu.
                        Bura.       Kare.
                        Pator.      Kasàng.
                        Lòng.       Kadòm.
                        Mèn.        Dimi.
                        Bi.         Ingle.
                        Sotera.


It is said that no meaning is attached to these names; that is, they
are not given because of any meaning which they may possess. (It is
evident that many of them have a meaning: e.g. Bi is a goat, Lòng a
stone, Pator is a village official among the Khasis, Bura is Assamese
for "an old man," Tamoi is probably the Assamese for the betel-nut
(tamol.) Sotera may be corrupted from sangtara, orange.) The prefix
Ka- in women's names is manifestly taken from Khasi usage. There
are no surnames, but the name of the kur is used to distinguish one
individual from another, as Mòn Lèkthe, Mòn Timung.

The age for marriage is from fourteen to twenty-five for the man,
ten to fifteen for the girl; eighteen or nineteen and fifteen are the
most usual ages. Child marriage is unknown. If a young man fancies
a girl (from meeting her at dances and the like), he sends one or
both parents to her father's house, and if the girl's parents agree,
the lad's father leaves a betrothal ring or bracelet with the girl
(this is called ke-roi-dun); sometimes a gourd of rice beer is taken
and accepted, and in that case, if she subsequently marries another,
the village council fine her family 25 to 35 rupees; otherwise only the
betrothal ring or bracelet is returned. The length of the engagement
is uncertain, but the actual marriage does not take place till after
puberty. When the marriage day is fixed, both families prepare beer
and spirits; if the bridegroom is rich, he provides drink for the
whole country-side (hòr-hàk hòr-tibuk). The bridegroom's party,
giving a gourd of beer to each village they pass through, arrive at
the bride's house in the evening. There they sit awhile, and then
offer one gourd of beer and one glass bottle of spirits to the bride's
father on the hòng. A colloquy ensues: the bride's father asks the
bridegroom's why they have come, and why these offerings. He answers,
"Your sister (i.e. the wife of the speaker) is becoming old and cannot
work, so we have brought our son to marry your daughter." (The custom
formerly was that a boy must marry his first cousin on the mother's
side, and if he did not, the maternal uncle could beat the lad as much
as he liked; but now they can do as they please.) The reply follows:
"My daughter is unworthy, she does not know weaving and other household
work." "Never mind, we will teach her ourselves." The bride's father
then asks his wife to enquire of the girl if she will take the lad;
without her consent the beer and spirits cannot be accepted. If
the wife reports consent, the beer and spirits are drunk by the
two fathers. Sometimes they sit the whole night before the girl's
consent is obtained. If any knowing old men are there, they sing in two
parties: "We cannot send our daughter to your house!" "We cannot leave
our boy to stay with you!" When the question of consent is settled,
all eat together. Then the bride prepares the bed inside the house
for the bridegroom, in the kàm; in the tibung (see plan [10]) if
there is room: if not, in the thèngthòr; but if the lad is ashamed,
he sends one of his garments to take his place in the bed.

What follows depends upon the wealth and standing of the parties. If
the wedding is akejoi--that is, if no payment is to be made for the
bride--the girl goes with her husband next day to her new home. Her
parents accompany her, and are entertained with food and drink,
returning the following day. If the wedding is akemèn (literally,
ripe, pakka), the lad stays in his father-in-law's house. He rests one
day, and then works for his father-in-law for a year, or two years,
or even it may be for life, according to agreement. There is no money
payment in any case. If the girl is an heiress or only daughter, the
marriage is usually akemèn; but in the great majority of cases it is
akejoi. The neighbours of both villages assemble at the marriage,
and when the bride goes to her husband's house, the neighbours of
the village accompany her and are hospitably entertained.

Before marriage it was reported, when Mr. Stack made his enquiries,
that there was little intercourse between the sexes. Seduction rarely
occurred, but when it did, the parents of the girl had to give her
to the lad in marriage. It was not punished. Old men, however, could
remember (1885) when the teràng or "bachelors' house" used to be the
abode not only of the lads, but also of the maids, and illegitimate
births were common. The girls used even to work in the fields with
the boys; there was not even a matron to look after them!

After marriage adultery is said to be rare. The case is judged by the
me, or village council, who inflict a fine. The guilty pair are tied
up and exposed to the scorn of the neighbours until the fine is paid by
the man. Adultery was never capitally punished. After the fine is paid,
the husband has to take his wife back, unless there are no children,
when he might refuse to do so. The fine is not given to the offended
husband, but distributed among the elders who compose the me.

The authorities differ on the question whether more than one wife is
allowed. When Mr. Stack wrote, in 1883, the chapter on "Castes and
Tribes" in the Report on the Assam Census of 1881, he stated that
"polygamy is permitted if a man can afford it." His subsequent notes
of 1885-86, however, record that monogamy is the rule, and no one
is allowed to marry two wives. Mr. W. C. M. Dundas, Subdivisional
Officer of North Cachar, writing in 1903, says that an Arlèng
may marry only one wife. On the other hand, the Rev. P. E. Moore,
who has a long experience of the Mikirs, writing in 1902, says,
"Polygamy is not common. A man sometimes takes a second wife. In
one instance which came to my notice recently the two wives were
married on the same day. The man is usually fined Rs. 12.8 for this
irregularity. The father of a boy who is now in my service had six
wives, and was not punished at all." [11] Perhaps it may be concluded
that monogamy is the general rule, and that cases of polygamy have
occurred in consequence of the effect of the example of the Assamese,
and the weakening of tribal sanctions.

The young couple live in the bridegroom's father's house. The old
people often get separate rooms allotted to them as they advance in
life, and are supported in idleness.

Widow marriage is allowed. Divorce is rare, but permissible if there
is no offspring, or if the girl goes home after marriage and refuses
to return to her husband. In that case the husband takes a gourd of
beer to her parents and declares himself free. Both parties, after
the divorce, can marry again.




[NOTE BY EDITOR.

The following list of Mikir words for family relationship has some
points of interest:--


    Grandfather, phu.                   Grandmother, phi.
    Father, po.                         Mother, pei, pi.
    Husband, pèng-àn.                   Wife, peso.

            (Wedded pair, Pèng-àn-so, Pengnàn-so.)

    Wife's father, hupo, ònghai.        Wife's mother, nipi, nihai.
    Husband's father, lòk-hai.
    Father's brother, punu.             Father's sister, pinu.
    Mother's brother, òng, nihu.        Father's  brother's wife, ni.

        Child, common gender, without reference to parents, so.

    Boy, oso.                           Girl, osopi.
    Son, sopo.                          Daughter, sopi.
    Grandson, supo.                     Granddaughter, supi.
    Brother, in general, kòr, kòrte.    Sister, in general, kòr, kòrte.
    Brother, when speaker is a female,
        chèkle.
    Elder    }               { ik              { te, when speaker
    brother  } words used by {          Elder  { is a female.
    Younger  } both sexes    { mu       sister { ingjirpi, when speaker
    brother  }               {                 { is a male.
                                        Younger sister, mu.
    Brother-in-law: wife's brother,     Brother's wife, for male
    òng-so.                             speaker, tepi; for female
                                        speaker, nèng.
    Sister's husband, me,               Wife's sister, kòrpi.
    ingjir-arlo; kòrpo.
    Son-in-law, osa.
    Nephew, generally, philipo.         Niece, philipi.
    Elder brother's son, ik-aso.
    Brother's son, kòr-aso.
    Sister's son, osa.


The remarkable point about these names is that most of them are the
same for both sexes, and that the sexes are distinguished only by
words indicating gender where this is required. Po is the index for
the male, pi that for the female.

Again, the same word appears to be used in different senses: e.g. òng
is maternal uncle, but òng-so (so is the syllable indicating a
diminutive) is the wife's brother, the "little uncle;" osa is both
nephew (sister's son) and son-in-law (pointing to the custom of
intermarriage of first cousins on the mother's side). Te is sister,
but tepi (pi indicates greatness) is brother's wife. Similarly, kòr
is sister (or brother), kòrpi is wife's sister, kòrpo sister's husband.

It will be observed that brothers and sisters, and brothers-in-law
and sisters-in-law, use different forms of address when speaking of
their relationship inter se.

The whole subject seems to demand further investigation, in the light
of comparison with the system of family grouping in other allied
tribes, and the history and etymology, so far as it is possible to
ascertain them, of the words indicating relationship.]



The sons inherit; if there are none, the brothers; after them the
deceased's nearest agnate of his own kur. The wife and daughters get
nothing. But if the deceased has no sons or brothers, the widow can
retain the property by marrying into her husband's kur. In any case she
retains her personal property, ornaments, clothes, etc. If the widow
will not surrender the property, the case has to come before the me.

The eldest son gets somewhat more than the others on the father's
death. Generally, however, the property is divided beforehand by
the father, who often prefers one son to another. The family usually
continues to dwell together, the grown-up sons supporting the widowed
mother. Adoption is unknown.

Villages have no fixed or recognized boundaries, but are moved from
place to place according to the needs of cultivation. Only house-tax
is paid, except by Mikirs cultivating land with the plough in the
submontane tracts, who are treated in all respects like other Assamese
raiyats. In the hills the culturable land, at the first settlement
of a village in a new locality, is divided among the householders by
the me, or village council, presided over by the gaonbura, the head of
each household choosing his own land for cultivation, and any dispute
being referred to the me. Should the dispute not be settled in this
manner, the majority prevails, and the dissident households, if they
do not acquiesce, may remove elsewhere and set up for themselves as
a new community with a gaonbura of their own.

The following are the Mikir mauzas, or territorial divisions including
a number of villages, in the Nowgong district:--

Duar Baguri, Duar Bamuni, Duar Salona, Ròngkhàng, Duar Amla Parbat,
Duar Dikhoru, Duar Kothiatali, Jamuna-par, Làngpher, Lumding Mikir. The
last two are new mauzas, the opening-out of which is due to the
Assam-Bengal Railway, which traverses the tract. Each mauza has a
Mikir mauzadar or bikhoya.

The decision of disputes is the business of the village me, or council,
[12] presided over by the gaonbura (Mikir, sar-the). The me is composed
of all the male householders. The gaonbura is chosen for his personal
character by the householders. On election, he repairs, with beer
and spirits, to the head gaonbura or mauzadar, bringing with him two
or three other gaonburas. A pig is killed, the company eat and drink
together, and the gaonbura is declared duly elected. The me is summoned
by the gaonbura. It decides all village disputes, and inflicts small
fines. It also determines whether the village shall be shifted, and
where it shall be removed to. A me-pi ("great council") consists of
gaonburas only, presided over by a mauzadar or head gaonbura. Graver
matters, such as charges of adultery, witchcraft aimed at life (maja
kechònghoi), tigers in the mauza, questions affecting the mauza at
large, the arrangements for the Ròngker or annual village festival,
and such like, are referred to the me-pi.

The Mikirs have never been a warlike race, nor are there any traditions
of inter-village feuds. Head-hunting has not been practised, but the
tribe have often been the victim of raids for this purpose by their
neighbours, the Angami Nagas. There are said to have formerly been
vendettas between families.

During the Burmese wars in the early part of the last century, the
tribe deserted its settlements in the submontane tract, and fled into
the higher hills. Many Assamese are reported to have taken refuge with
them during this time, and to have become Mikirs. [Mr. Dundas also
mentions that in North Cachar outsiders are admitted into the tribe and
are enrolled as members of one of the kurs, after purification by one
of the Be-kuru kur (Mr. Stack's Be and Kro, sub-kurs of Teràng). In
the group opposite, taken from a photograph supplied by Mr. Dundas,
the short man is evidently a Khasi, while the man to his left appears
to be an Assamese.]

The Mikirs call their Kachari neighbours Paròk, the Mikir pronunciation
of Boro (in the allied dialect of Tipperah boròk means "man"); the
Assamese are Ahòm, the Bengalis Bòngnai (Bòngnai-adin, "British
rule"), the Nagas Naka. The Khasis generally are called Chomàng,
the border race of Khasis, adjoining the Kopili or Kupli river,
being Chomàng-Keche. Keche is, no doubt, equivalent to Khasi, the
vowel-change being the same as in Recho for Raja.




APPENDIX.

1. The kurs or exogamous groups of the Mikir race are thus given in
the Assam Census Report for 1891 (vol. iii. pp. cii.-ciii):--


Main Subdivisions.

I. Ingti. II. Terang. III. Teràn. IV. Tumung. V. Inghi or Hengse.

I. Subdivisions of Ingti--

    1. Ingle.                     4. Kathar.
    2. Ingti-Henchek.             5. Tarak or Taro.
    3. Ingti-Kiling.

II. Subdivisions of Terang--

    1. Be-bonghàng (read          6. Kro-Jingthong.
       Be-Ronghàng).              7. Kro-ghoria.
    2. Be-Jingthong.              8. Lilipo-kro.
    3. Injai.                     9. Rongbijiya.
    4. Kro.                      10. Tarang.
    5. Kro-bonghàng (read        11. Teràng.
       Kro-Ronghàng).

III. Subdivisions of Teràn--

    1. Ai.                        4. Milik.
    2. Kangkàt.                   5. Tarap.
    3. Làngle.

IV. Subdivisions of Tumung--

    1. Benar-pator.               5. Rongphar.
    2. Chenar.                    6. Rongtar [13]-Jungthong.
    3. Dera.                      7. Takki.
    4. Keleng.                    8. Tumung-pator.

V. Subdivisions of Inghi--

    1. Bonrung.                   6. Rongpi.
    2. Hànche.                    7. Rongchehon.
    3. Ke-ap.                     8. Tuso.
    4. Lekethe.                   9. Tutab.
    5. Ronghang-ghoria.


An attempt is made in the report to translate some of these names,
but it appears very doubtful whether the meanings assigned are
correct. So far as they go, the explanations show that some of the
names (to which an Assamese form has in some cases been given, as
in those ending in ghoria) are designations of offices (e.g. Pator,
Rongchehon = village watchman), while others are local or place-names.

Under I. Ingti, (1) Ingle is evidently Mr. Stack's Inglèng; (4) Kathar
is his Katar, (2) [Ingti]-Henchek is his Hènsèk, and (5) Taro his Taro.

Under II. Terang, (1 and 2) Be is Mr. Stack's Be, (4, 5, 6, 7) Kro
is his Kro, and (3) Injai is probably his Ingjar; the others seem to
be either local names (8, Lilipo-kro = Western Kro, Nilip = west; 9,
Rongbijiya = inhabitants of some particular village), or duplicates
of the group-name Terang (Nos. 10 and 11).

Mr. Stack had no group named Teràn.

Group IV., Tumung, corresponds to Mr. Stack's Timung; of the
subdivisions, 2, Chenar is probably his Sèngnar, 5, Rongphar agrees
with his list, and 7, Takki is probably his Tòkbi. Nos. 1 and 8 are
explained as office-holders, No. 3 is a place-name, No. 4 is a river
(Kiling), and No. 6 seems to be a duplicate of No. 5.

Group V., Inghi, corresponds to Mr. Stack's Lèkthe, which occurs as the
name of subdivision 4 in the census list; 1, Bonrung, is Mr. Stack's
Bòngrun; 2, Hànche, is his Hànse; 8, Tuso, is his Tutso. His Kràmsa
is not found in the census list, but occurs, as will be seen below,
in other lists.

2. Mr. Dundas, Subdivisional Officer of North Cachar, writing in
March 1903, gives the following groups:--




MAIN EXOGAMOUS GROUPS.

1. Inghi. II. Timung. III. Teron. IV. Kathar. V. Be. VI. Injai.


I. Inghi has the following subdivisions:--

1.   Rongpi, further subdivided into (a) Rongchaichu, (b)
                                     Rongchehòn, (c) Chinthòng,
                                     (d) Lindòk.
2.   Ronghàng,  ,,       ,,      ,,  (a) Hèmpi, (b) Hèmso.
3.   Inghi,     ,,       ,,      ,,  (a) Hèmpi, (b) Hèmso.
4.   Hànse,     ,,       ,,      ,,  (a) Durong, (b) Nongkirla,
                                     (c) Chinthòng, (d) Kiling.
5.   Lèkthe,    ,,       ,,      ,,  (a) Keap, (b) Tereng.
6.   Bòngrung,  ,,       ,,      ,,  (a) Kràmsa, (b) Rongchehòn,
                                     (c) Hèmso.
7.   Tutso,     ,,       ,,      ,,  (a) Motho, (b) Rongphu, (c)
                                     Ronghing, (d) Rongchitim, (e)
                                     Rongchaichu, (f) Rongchehòn.


(Nos. 4, 6, and 7 agree with Mr. Stack's list under Lèkthe, and
Mr. Stack's Kràmsa appears as a further subdivision of Bòngrung. As
regards the others, the names beginning with Rong may be local village
names; Chinthong and Ronghang are the names of great sections of the
Mikir population, not of exogamous groups; Hèmpi and Hèmso mean merely
"great house" and "little house.")


II. Timung (Mr. Stack has the same spelling) comprises--

 1.  Timung Lindòk, subdivision   (a) Ròngchaichu.
 2.  Ròngphar,           ,,       (a) Hèmpi, (b) Hèmso.
 3.  Chinthong,          ,,       (a) Seng-ar, (b) Hèmpi, (c) Hèmso.
 4.  Phàngchu,           ,,       (a) Juiti, (b) Rongphàng, (c)
                                  Hèmpi, (d) Hèmso.
 5.  Phura,              ,,       (a) Dili.
 6.  Tòkbi,              ,,       (a) Tòksiki.
 7.  Kiling
 8.  Meji
 9.  Pator
10.  Lòngteroi
11.  Yachi,              ,,       (a) Hèmpi, (b) Hèmso.
12.  Dera,               ,,       (a) Hèmpi, (b) Hèmso.
13.  Ròngpi


(Here Nos. 2 and 6 correspond with Mr. Stack's subdivisions, and No. 3
(a), Seng-ar, is his Sengnar; several of the remainder appear to be
local names.)


III. Teròn comprises--

1.   Làngne,  subdivision (a) Ròngchaichu.
2.   Kòngkàr,      ,,     (a) Dengya.
3.   Meji
4.   Milik,        ,,     (a) Seràng.
5.   Mele
6.   Kiling


(Mr. Stack has none of these names; but Làngne evidently corresponds
to Làngle in the census list, and Kòngkar to Kangkat, while Milik is
in both.)


IV. Kathar comprises--

1.   Ingti-Kathar
2.   Riso
3.   Hènsèk
4.   Ingti-Kiling
5.   Ingling, subdivisions (a) Hèmpi, (b) Hèmso.
6.   Ingti-Chinthòng
7.   Taro


(These names, except Riso, which means "young man," all occur
in Mr. Stack's group Ingti. Nos. 4 and 6 are evidently local
subdivisions.)


V. Be comprises--

1.   Rònghàng
2.   Kiling
3.   Lindòk
4.   Seng-òt
5.   Teràng, subdivisions (a) Dili, (b) Rongchaichu.
6.   Kuru,        ,,      (a) Rongchaichu, (b) Nihàng, (c) Nilip.


(This group corresponds to Mr. Stack's Teràng; Kuru is his
Kro. Subdivisions 1, 2, and 3 are apparently local names.)


VI. Injai comprises--

1.   Injai
2.   Ing-ar.


(Mr. Stack gives Ing-ar as a subdivision of Teràng; the census list
also classes Injai under the same main group. Mr. Dundas notes that
the Injai may not take a wife from the Be (i.e. Teràng) group, from
which it may be concluded that they are really a subdivision of that
name, or Teràng.)

3. So far the three lists are in general agreement; but the
Rev. Mr. Moore, writing in August 1902, gives what at first sight is
an entirely different arrangement. He separates the Mikir people into
the following five groups:--


I. E-jàng.    II. Tung-e.    III. Kròn-e.    IV. Lo-e.   V. Ni-e.


I. E-jàng he subdivides into--

    1.  Ròngpi.                     6.  Kràmsa.
    2.  Rònghàng.                   7.  Keap.
    3.  Tutso.                      8.  Lèkthe.
    4.  Hànse.                      9.  Ròngchehòn.
    5.  Bòngrung.

II.  Tung-e comprises--

    1.  Timung.                     5.  Timung-Senar.
    2.  Tòkbi.                      6.  Timung-Phàngchu.
    3.  Timung-Kiling.              7.  Timung-Juiti.
    4.  Timung-Ròngphar.            8.  Tòktiphi.

III. Kròn-e includes--

    1. Teròn.                       3. Teròn-Làngne.
    2. Teròn-Kòngkàt.

IV. Lo-e is divided into--

    1. Be.                          4. Ingjai.
    2. Kro.                         5. Ingnar.
    3. Teràng.

V. Ni-e comprises--

    1. Ingti.                       3. Taro.
    2. Inglèng.


Comparing the subdivisions with those given by Mr. Stack, we perceive
that five of the nine shown under Mr. Moore's I. E-jàng (Nos. 3, 4, 5,
7, and 8) are identical with Mr. Stack's Lèkthe and its subdivisions;
the remaining four (Ròngpi, Rònghàng, Ròngchehòn, and Keap) are
all found in the census list of 1891 under Inghi, another name for
Lèkthe. Evidently, therefore, E-jàng is the equivalent of Mr. Stack's
Lèkthe and the census Inghi.

Under II. Tung-e all Mr. Stack's names classed under Timung appear;
of the remainder, some are found in Mr. Dundas's list, either of
subdivisions or smaller sections, under Timung; Tòktiphi is probably
Mr. Dundas's Tòksiki; and Timung-Kiling is the census "Keleng"
(a river-name). It is clear, therefore, that Tung-e is the same as
the Timung (Tumung) of the other lists.

III. Kròn-e is evidently the small group Teròn or Teràn of Mr. Dundas
and the census list, not found in Mr. Stack's enumeration.

IV. Lo-e is also clearly the Teràng of the three other lists, which
account for all the names given under it.

V. Ni-e is the equivalent of Mr. Stack's Ingti, called by the same
name in the census list, and Kathar in Mr. Dundas's list (the
omission of the name Kathar, or Katar, from Mr. Moore's list is
somewhat noticeable).

It thus appears that all the four lists in reality agree in a
remarkable manner, quite independent as they are in their origin,
and that all observers concur in stating that the Mikir people are
divided into five (or four) great exogamous groups, whether situated
in the Mikir Hills, in North Cachar, or in the Khasi Hills and the
hilly country to the south of Nowgong.







IV.

RELIGION.

    General character of popular belief in ghosts and spirits,
    and a future life--No idols, temples or shrines--Amulets--The
    Gods and their worship--Divination and magic--Oaths and
    imprecations--Funeral ceremonies--Festivities--Taboo.


BELIEFS ABOUT THE DEAD.

The Mikirs have borrowed from the Hindu Assamese the ideas and the
names of Boikuntho (Vaikuntha, Vishnu's Paradise) and Nòròk (Naraka,
Hell); but these conceptions do not play much part in their views of
a life to come. Better known, and more often mentioned, is Jòm Recho
(Jam, Yama Raja), the Lord of Spirits, with whom the dead remain
below ground. His abode--the abode of the dead--is Jòm-aròng, [14]
and the elaborate ceremonies of the funeral are the means by which
the spirit of the dead gains admittance to Jòm's city. Unless they
are duly performed he remains outside.

They speak of having seen the shade (image, arjàn) of a dead man
(ne la arjàn thèklòk, "I saw his shade"); a sickly man catches such
glimpses in the house, on the road, etc. Pharlo, spirit, is used both
of living persons and dead. Tove ne-pharlo ne la-abàng thèk-lòng,
"Last night in my spirit I saw him"; where pharlo is the spirit of
the sleeping man. When such glimpses are experienced, betel and food
are set aside in the house, and after a time thrown away.

On a death occurring, the old women of the village wash and lay out the
body. Then one composes a chant, setting forth the parentage and life
of the dead: "You will now meet your grand-parents, father, deceased
brother, etc., and will stay with them and eat with them." Then a
separate meal of rice and a boiled egg is placed beside the body,
and the dead man is invited to eat. This is done twice a day, the
meal being cooked separately from the food of the family. After being
offered and placed beside the corpse for a time, the food is thrown
away. This goes on day by day until the funeral service is held (see
below). After that there are no regular offerings, but occasionally
a man or woman puts aside from his or her own share of food a portion
for the dead, as, for instance, when another funeral reminds them of
those who have died before.

There does not appear to be any fear of the dead coming back to trouble
the living. Some people, however, it is said, are afraid to pass the
burying-place of the dead after dark.

They say that a man called Thi-rèng Vàng-rèng (literally, "Dead-alive
come-alive") in former times used to travel between this world and
Jòm Recho's abode; he taught them their funeral ceremonies. At last
he did not come back. Everything is different in Jòm-aròng. Thirèng
Vàngrèng saw the people there go out to fish, and gather instead pieces
of stick. They asked him why he did not gather them too; he answered
that they were not fish, but sticks. They waved over them a lighted
brand, and he saw them as fish. So, too, there a crab becomes a tiger,
or seems to be a tiger. Men do not stay in Jòm Recho's city for ever,
but are born again as children, and this goes on indefinitely (here
we seem to have a borrowing from Hinduism). "The Mikirs give the
names of their dead relations to children born afterwards, and say
that the dead have come back; but they believe that the spirit is
with Jòm all the same." [15]

A man with unusually keen and alarming eyes is said to be possessed
by a demon (hi-i). The phrase is ahi-i kedo arlèng, and, of the eyes,
amèk ahi-i kedo. But the superstition of the evil eye, as prevalent
elsewhere, seems to be unknown, and such a man is not avoided; rather,
the hi-i is supposed to give him cleverness. The same phrase is used in
familiar abuse to a child: Ahi-i kedo oso, "You devil-possessed brat!"




RELIGION--DIVINITIES.

The Mikirs have no idols, temples, or shrines. Some people, however,
have fetishes or amulets, called bòr. These are pieces of stone or
metal, by keeping which they become rich. Sometimes, however, a man
unwittingly keeps a bòr that brings him ill-luck and loss. A man is
said to have got a bòr, bòr kelòng; Bòr do-kòkle, plàng-ple-ji ma? "If
you have got a bòr, will you not become rich?" Bòrs are not common;
one gets them by chance in river, field, or jungle. Or a man dreams
that he can get a bòr in such a place, and finds it there. But these
amulets are not objects of worship or propitiation.

The Gods--Arnàm-atum--are innumerable, and are worshipped in different
ways, at different times, and in different places. The names of some
of the most important are given below.

Arnàm Kethe, in spite of his name, which means "The Great God," has
no definite authority over the other Gods. He is a house-god, and is
sacrificed to once in three years, if no occasion (in consequence of
trouble) arises meanwhile. His appropriate offering is a pig. The
family obtain Arnàm Kethe by asking him to stay with them, and by
castrating a young pig, to be sacrificed three years later. All
families have not got Arnàm Kethe to stay with them, nor does he
always come when invited. If a man is sick, and the uche (diviner)
declares that Arnàm Kethe wishes to join the household, the ceremony
is performed, but no offerings are made at the time. After three
years--or earlier, if there is any sickness in the family--the pig
is killed, and a general feast, with rice, beer, and spirits, given
to the village. A booth of leaves is built in the three days before;
the first day is devoted to cutting the posts for the booth, and is
called phòng-ròng ketèng; the second, to garlanding leaves round the
posts, called phòng-ròng ketòm; and on the third day leaves are laid
out for the rice, rice-flour (pithaguri, Ass.) is sprinkled about
the ground, and plantains and other trees are planted around the
booth. All these preparations are done in the early morning before
eating. Then follows the ceremony--Arnàm Kethe karakli. First, there
is the invocation: "To-day has come, and now we will give you your
three-years' offering; accept it kindly!" Fowls are killed, and then
the pig (all animals killed in sacrifice are beheaded with one stroke
of a heavy knife delivered from above). The liver, heart, and lights of
both are cooked for the god. Then the hoof, ear, and tail of the pig
are offered, then pieces of cooked meat. Afterwards the sacrificers
eat tekar kethi or tekar-so, then tekar-pi. Both are pieces of flesh,
the first smaller, the latter larger, eaten with rice-beer. Then all
the company set to and eat rice and flesh together. Sometimes three
or four pigs and forty different kinds of vegetables are consumed at
the sacrificial feast. The women get sixfold or ninefold the shares
of the men, and carry them home bound up in leaves (àn-bòr and òk-bòr).

Pèng is also a household god. His offering is a goat, sacrificed
yearly, in the tikup or space before the house. Some neighbours
are invited to the sacrificial feast. Pèng lives in the house,
Arnàm Kethe in heaven. Pèng is also sacrificed to in sickness. Very
few houses have not Pèng. Maize, rice, and a gourd of rice-beer are
placed for him above the veranda of the house, and the firstfruits of
the harvest are offered to him. "But these two gods only come to eat,
and families avoid taking them if they can."

Hèmphu ("head of the house," "householder") owns all the Mikir
people. Everybody can sacrifice to him at any time, and pray for
deliverance from sickness. Mukràng is similar to Hèmphu but slightly
lower in dignity. These two gods, the preservers of men, are approached
by the sacrifice of a fowl or goat. Hèmphu must be invoked first in
every sacrifice, being the peculiar owner of men.

Rèk-ànglòng ("the mountain of the community") or Inglòng-pi ("great
mountain") is a house-god, but is worshipped in the field, and only
men eat the sacrifice, which is a fowl or a goat once a year. He is
the god of the hill they live on, the Deus loci, with whom they have
to be at peace; but not every family in the village need have him.

Arnàm paro ("the hundred god") is the name of a god who takes a
hundred shares of rice, pithaguri, betel-nut, and the red spathe of
the plantain tree cut up. He is worshipped with a white goat or a
white fowl as the sacrifice. He and Rèk-ànglòng figure particularly
in the Ròngker, or great annual village festival, celebrated in June
at the beginning of the year's cultivation. (Arnàm-paro seems to be a
collective name, to include all gods whom it may concern. Kamakhya,
the Hindu goddess of Nilachal above Gauhati, is mentioned as one of
the deities included in Arnàm-paro.)

The gods named above are all invoked and propitiated to grant
prosperity and avert misfortune, both generally and specially. There
are, besides, numerous gods who take their names from the special
diseases over which they preside or which they are asked to avert;
such are--

Chomàng-ase ("Khasi fever"), a Khasi god, who lives in the house and
is propitiated with a goat; he is comparatively rare. This god appears
to be identical with Keche-ase, which is the rheumatism. (Chomàng
is the name for the interior Khasis, Keche for those immediately in
contact with the Mikirs.)

Ajo-ase ("the night fever") is the deity of cholera (ma-vur or
pòk-avur). The sacrifice to him is two fowls and many eggs, and is
offered at night, on the path outside the village. The whole village
subscribes to furnish the offering, and with the eatables are combined
a load of cotton, a basket of chillies, an offering of yams, and the
image of a gun (because cholera is thought to be a British disease);
also sesamum (nèmpo), many bundles consisting of six sticks of a soft
wood called chèknàm (perhaps the cotton tree, bombax) tied together,
many bundles of the false cane (ingsu), and double wedges of chèknàm
wood. The god is invoked: "Don't come this way, go that way!" The
eatables are eaten, and the other articles thrown away. The houses
are then beaten with rods of chèknàm and ingsu.

So-meme ("evil pain") is the god to whom barren women have recourse.

Recurring sicknesses and troubles are ascribed to Thèng-thòn or
Òk-làngno, a devil (hi-i); he is propitiated with a goat and a pig,
or two or three fowls. A man gasping in sickness is being strangled
by Thèng-thòn. If, notwithstanding invocations of the gods, sickness
grows worse, a sacrifice is offered to Thèng-thòn without summoning
the diviner or sàng-kelàng-abàng.

Mr. Stack gives the following as the names of the chief diseases
(besides those already mentioned), the averting of which forms the
main object of worship: goitre, phun-kàng ("swollen throat"); phthisis,
si-i (also cough); stone, ingthàk; diarrhoea, pòk-kàngsi; rheumatism,
keche-ase ("Khasi fever"); neuralgia, bàb ase; small-pox, pi-amir
("the Mother's flowers"); black leprosy, si-i; white leprosy, aròk;
elephantiasis, kèng-tòng (kèng, leg; ingtòng, funnel-shaped basket);
dysentery, pòk kapavi ("bleeding of belly").

The house-gods come down in the family; no others would be sacrificed
to if the family were uniformly prosperous.

All natural objects of a striking or imposing character have their
divinity. The sun (arni) and moon (chiklo) are regarded as divine,
but are not specially propitiated. But localities of an impressive
kind, such as mountains, [16] waterfalls, deep pools in rivers, great
boulders, have each their arnàm, who is concerned in the affairs of
men and has to be placated by sacrifice. The expression arnàm do,
used of a place, means, generally, to be haunted by something felt
as mighty or terrible. All waterfalls (làngsun), in particular, have
their arnàms. In Baguri mauza there are two great waterfalls in the
Diyaung river which are specially venerated as divine; one of these,
the Làng-kàngtòng ("Rolling-down water"), can be heard half a day's
journey off. Similarly, there are places where a river goes underground
(làng-lut); these also have their arnàm. [17] Such local divinities
of the jungle are propitiated chiefly to avert mischief from tigers,
which are a terrible plague in many parts of the Mikir hills.

There is no worship of trees or animals.

Làm-aphu, "the head or master of words," is a deity probably of recent
origin. He is the god sacrificed to by a man who has a case in court;
the sacrifice is one young cock, which should be offered at night,
secretly, by the sacrificer alone, in a secret place.

It should be mentioned that, following an ill-sounding idiom of
the Assamese, the Mikirs use "Arnàm" as a common (propitiatory)
form of address to human beings (Assamese, deuta). Po-arnàm-po
("god-father") to a man, and pe-arnàm-pi ("god-mother") to a woman,
are the phrases. In one of the stories given in the next Section,
the king is addressed as Hèmphu Arnàm, "Lord God."




DIVINATION AND MAGIC.

Sickness, if long continued or severe, is frequently attributed to
witchcraft (maja). A man suffering from long sickness is said to be
maja kelòng--"witchcraft has got hold of him." To discover the author
of the spell, or the god or demon who has brought the trouble and
must be propitiated, the services of a diviner are necessary. Uche,
feminine uche-pi (Hindi, ojhà), is the general name for the cunning
in such things. Of these there are two grades--the humbler, whose
craft is acquired merely by instruction and practice, and the higher,
who works under the inspiration or afflatus of divine powers. The
former is the sàng-kelàng abàng, "the man who looks at rice," in
Assamese, mangalsua; the latter, invariably a woman, is the lodèt or
lodèt-pi. In serious sickness or distress the latter is called in;
on ordinary and less important occasions, the former.

The sàng-kelàng abàng picks out of the pot the unbroken grains of
rice (sàng), and places them, by fives and tens, in pentacle or other
fashion. He then counts by couples. If in the groups the odd numbers
predominate, the omen is good. If there are no odd grains over, it is
very bad. Then all are swept together again, and arranged in three or
four heaps. Each heap is counted out, a god being named, and if after
the counting, again by couples, three single grains remain, the god
named is the one to be propitiated. If three grains do not remain,
the process is tried over again. Cowries (chobai) are sometimes used
instead of rice in the same way. Also, with cowries a handful is
taken and spread out, and the number with the slits upwards counted;
if they are the majority, the omen is good. [18]

Another mode of divination used by the mangalsua is to arrange in
a circle, equidistant from a point marked on a board (inghoi), as
many little heaps of clay as there are gods suspected in the case,
each heap being called by the name of its god. An egg is then sharply
thrown into the middle of the board at the marked point. When it breaks
and the yolk is scattered, that clay heap which receives the largest
splash of yolk, or towards which the largest and longest splash points,
indicates the god responsible for the affliction. [19]

Another mode is to use the nòk-jir, which is a long-handled iron dao
with a cross-piece at the handle and two inclined projecting pieces
higher up, before the blade, thus:--

This is held upright in the hand. It shakes of itself when the
charm is recited and the nòk-jir invoked to become inspired: Nàng
uché vàng-phlòt! "Let your spirit (uché) come!" The holder asks
whether the sick person will recover, and goes over the names of the
possibly responsible gods, and the nòkjir shakes at the right answer
and name. The charm (the Assamese word montro is used) recites the
making of the nòkjir, and ends--"if you tell lies, you will be broken
up and made into needles" (--the lowest use to which iron can be put,
to sew women's petticoats!). [20]

The Lodèt is an ordinary woman (not belonging to any particular
family or kur), who feels the divine afflatus, and, when it is upon
her, yawns continually and calls out the names and the will of the
gods. Another lodètpi is summoned in to question her, and ascertain
if her possession is really divine; a sàng-kelàng abàng may also be
consulted. If the report is favourable, a purificatory offering of
a fowl is made to Hèmphu and Mukràng, the preservers of men, and the
woman is accepted as a lodètpi.

She sits by the bewitched person (maja-kelòng), and the neighbours
come in after supper. The lodètpi bathes her hands and feet and face
in water in which the tulsi plant (Ocymum sanctum, holy basil) has been
steeped, and begins to shake and yawn. A gourd of rice-beer is brought,
of which she drinks some, and begins to call out the names of gods,
and they descend upon her. She is now inspired, and when questioned
indicates, by indirect and riddling answers, the enemy who has
bewitched the sufferer, or the gods who must be sacrificed to. When
this is ascertained she goes away. The accusation of practising
witchcraft is carried before the me or village assembly. The sacrifice
to placate the gods proceeds next day, and is usually costly.

To bewitch a person, it is necessary to have some of his hair, or
a piece of his clothes; these are buried with one egg, some bones,
and some charcoal. A good lodètpi can produce these things by the
power of her inspiration. A white cloth is tied up into the shape of
a bag. She conjures the things into it, and on opening the bag next
morning they are found inside. When they are thus recovered, the spirit
(karjòng) of the sufferer returns with them, and he gets well.

Charms (pherèm) are much used for medicinal purposes, either alone
or in combination with other remedies. For an ordinary stomach-ache
(pòk-keso), a little mud rubbed on the abdomen, with a muttered charm,
is the specific. For rheumatism (keche-ase), a castor-oil leaf is
struck on the place, and a charm muttered; if this fails, a sacrifice
must be offered to the god Keche-ase. The worker of these remedial
measures is called kàngtòk abàng, and the verb is ingtòk. Charms are
not, as a rule, carried on the person.

The expression vur kachethat, "to kill for oneself (a fowl) for
disease," means to prevent evil by sacrifice after a dream which had
previously been followed by mischance.

If a child does not thrive, it is imputed to the sin, or devil
(ahi-i) of the maternal uncle (òng), or, if there is no maternal
uncle, of one of the child's mother's kur. The family apply to the
person held to be responsible, and he gives a brass ring to be hung
round the child's neck, and a rice-ball (àn adum).

There is no entertaining of friends on recovery from sickness. The
sick person is tended by his wife and relations.

Tekere, Thekere, means a man who knows a spell or montro, especially
one which protects him against tigers (tèke).




OATHS AND ORDEALS.

Oaths and imprecations take the place of ordeals. Earth is put on
the head, and the man says--"May I be like this dust!" A tiger's
tooth is scraped, and the scrapings drunk in water: "May the tiger eat
me!" Similarly, an elephant's tusk is scraped, and the scrapings drunk:
"May the elephant trample me to death!" (Ingnar ne pedòng-nàng!) The
copper ring worn by the uche is dipped in water, and the water drunk,
the man saying, "May the tiger catch me!" Another form of oath is
Tàmhitni kàngjir asòntòt ne pàngjir-nàng, "May I be melted like molten
copper (or pot-metal)!" Such oaths are used to confirm promises,
and also to attest evidence and proclaim innocence of a charge.




FUNERAL CEREMONIES.

The funeral is the most elaborate, costly, and important of all the
ceremonies performed by the Mikirs. Such ceremonies are considered
obligatory in all cases except that of a child who has been born
dead, or who has died before the after-birth has left the mother;
such a child is buried without any ceremony. Victims of small-pox or
cholera are buried shortly after death, but the funeral service is
performed for them later on, the bones being sometimes dug up and
duly cremated. When a person is killed by a tiger, if the body or
clothes are found, they are buried at a distance from the village,
because the tiger is supposed to visit the burial-place. Such persons
cannot gain admittance to Jòm-aròng unless there are elaborate funeral
ceremonies performed for them. Being killed by a tiger is generally
imputed to the victim's sin. His spirit is believed to dwell in the
most dreary of the places where dead men's spirits go; there is no
notion (such as is found among some races in India) that it animates
the tiger who killed him. Except in these cases the dead are disposed
of by cremation, the burnt bones being afterwards buried.

The elaborateness of the funeral depends on the means of the
family. The description which follows applies to a case where the
household is well-to-do. In any case the body is kept in the house
for one day after death; if a regular service is held, it may lie as
long as from a week to twelve days.

The body lies in the kut. The persons occupied with the funeral
ceremonies live in the hòng-pharla; the rest of the family cook
and eat in the kàm, but the officiants, male and female, must go
across a stream or creek to cook and eat. As already mentioned, the
old women of the family wash and lay out the corpse. Then beer is
prepared, rice husked and got ready, and a convenient day fixed for
the service. If the house has not a big enough hòng (front platform),
the neighbours join and build one on to it. From the date of the death,
each household in the village gives a man to sleep in the house (in
the hòng-pharla). When it is settled that the beer and rice required
can be provided in four or five days, the village lads are summoned
about 8 o'clock in the evening. They bring their drum (chèng),
and drum up to the tikup (front yard); they drum there awhile, and
then, while one keeps time with the drum, dance by pairs, holding
in their left hands shields (chòng-kechèngnàn), and in their right
hands sticks. They go round twice in a circle; then they all dance
round, holding each the other's hands (this is called chomàng-kàn,
"Khasi dance"). After an hour spent in this way they go back to
the gaonbura's house to sleep. Early next morning they come without
beat of drum, and dance the chomàng-kàn to the drum; they then dance
the shield-dance as before (chòng-kechèngnàn) to the drum, and go
home. Next night they come as before, but a little later, and go
through the same ceremonies. Next morning they proceed as before,
and in the usual course they kill a fowl and roast it in pieces on
spits in the tikup, and eat it there. The third and last night is
that of the kàn-pi ("great dance").

Meantime, during the day, the risomar have to work at getting ready
the tèle--the stout bamboo to which the corpse is to be slung: the
bànjar--a bamboo ornamented with curled shavings (bu) hung in tufts
to projecting arms; and the seroso--shorter bamboo sticks similarly
ornamented and tipped with leaves. The men have to go to the theri
(village burning-place) and prepare there a chang or platform, with
logs for burning the body arranged under it; this chang is built in a
peculiar manner, known only to adepts. The uchepi (a skilled old woman)
is summoned to prepare the viaticum for the dead, and the duhuidi,
with an assistant, who beat the two drums which have now been hung
up in the kàm-athèngthòt: the duhuidi is one skilled in tolling on
these drums. Then comes the girl called obòkpi (not necessarily a
maid), that is, the "carrier" of the dead man; but in place of the
dead she carries on her back a gourd for holding beer; she must
belong to his mother's kur. Also the nihu, the maternal uncle or
other male representative of the mother's kur, and the ingjir-arlo,
sister's husband, or father's sister's husband, of the deceased;
it is his office to kill the goat for the dead, if they can afford one.

About midnight the villagers, with torches, drums, and the attendant
risomar, assemble in the tikup. The neighbouring villages, if so
minded, may come too (aròng ari is the phrase for the contingents as
they arrive). Each contingent is welcomed with the drum, and joins in
the drumming concert; the lads and girls are dressed in their best,
and provided with betel. The chief of the village lads (klèng-sarpo)
then calls the other risomar to touch (not taste) the beer, hòr
kacheme. [21] Then follows the shield-dance, first by the risomar of
the village, then by the outside contingents in order of arrival or
merit. Then all together take hands and dance in a circle. The young
women join in the line, taking hold of the lads' coats, while the lads
take hold of them by the belt (vànkòk); the girls cover their heads and
faces with a black scarf (jiso ke-ik): the petticoat is a red-striped
Mikir eri cloth. Near the first cock-crow, seven young men go up on
the hòng or house-platform from the dancing, with the duhuidi and his
assistant; one lad goes in and dances in the inside of kàm, in the
space by the partition-wall (nòksèk), while the six others stand at the
door (hòngthu, or inghàp àngho = "door's mouth"), and dance there. The
six whoop three times together as they dance. After a quarter of an
hour they return to the circle of dancers in the tikup. At dawn they
go up again, and dance till sunrise. The circle breaks up at daylight,
and then follows the shield-dance. Then all the drums go round the
circle where they dance ten to twenty times, playing a different tune
each time. Then, while they all drum standing, a pig is brought forth,
tied up for killing. The risomar in successive parties recount over the
tied-up pig the history of the funeral service; this is called phàk
aphu kacholàng. Then the pig is killed and cut up for the risomar,
and for the men engaged in the funeral service. The latter have to
cook and eat their shares of the meat, which is given in leaf-bundles
(òk-bòr) or on spits (òk-kròn), beyond the river. The risomar also get
their shares in the same way, and cook them in the dancing-ring. A
small piece of flesh is cooked by the uchepi for the dead man, and
this is put in the plate of the dead and carried by the ingjir-arlo
up to the body in the kut, the duhuidi tolling the drum as he goes
in; this ceremony is called kasole. Meantime the old experienced
men, braving the horrid stench, have been performing certain rites
[22] about the body. The remainder of the cooked flesh, with rice,
is distributed to the young girls. The risomar then, provided with
rice, beer, salt, chillies, and greens from the dead man's house,
disperse to houses in the village to eat, and the officiants go off
beyond the river to prepare and eat their food. This part of the
ceremony is called riso kachiru, "the lads' entertainment."

Then two or three of the risomar take a cock on the road to the
burning-place, and kill, cook, and eat it there. A small pig is killed
by the other lads where they dance, and the head and one leg are sent
to the road-side risomar. The blood is caught in a bamboo-joint, and
smeared on the bànjar, which is set up in the road like a maypole;
it is a thick bamboo about seven feet long, with sticks projecting
on three sides, from which hang tassels of curled bamboo shavings
(bànjar abu) These shavings also are smeared with the blood, so as to
look like flowers. Six shorter pieces of bamboo, three feet long, also
ornamented with tufts of shavings, are called serosos, and these too
are smeared with blood: likewise the tèle for carrying the corpse to
the pyre. Six young men, each taking a seroso, dance round the bànjar.

The uchepi has now prepared all the food. The obòkpi takes the
beer-gourd on her back, and one egg in her hand, and the uchepi a
beer-gourd, and they break the egg and the gourd against the tèle
as it lies upon the house-ladder (dòndòn). The duhuidi tolls the
drum, and dancing as before takes place on the hòng and in the kàm,
but not with the serosos. The uchepi and the obòkpi then go on to
the burning-place. The tèle is now taken up by the old men into the
house, and the corpse tied to it and brought down; all the dead man's
clothes are hung over the bamboo. Then a pair of ducks and another
of pigeons are killed by the nihu, and a goat by the ingjir-arlo,
each previously going thrice round the dancing circle with the
sun. The goat is called hòngvàt-abi; the heads are thrown to the
risomar, the rest of the meat kept and cooked later on by those who
remain. Preceded by the duhuidi and his assistant tolling the drums,
they all march in procession, carrying the bànjar and serosos, to
the burning-place. The body is untied from the tèle and placed on
the pyre, which is lighted. While the pyre is burning, knowing women
sing the kacharhe--a chant describing the dead man's life, whither he
is going on leaving this earth, how he will see his dead relations,
and the messages he has to carry to them. A few of the lads dance
while the cremation is proceeding.

The body is thoroughly burnt, and the bones that remain are tied up
in a cloth and buried. The tèle is either laid down whole or cut into
three pieces, which are split again into six, and placed in the little
house which is then erected over the grave. This is built with the
bànjar and the serosos, the former being in the middle and the latter
used as props for the roof. The food prepared by the uchepi is now
placed on a flat stone over the grave, and the ceremony is at an end.

The company, returning, clean and wash the house, and cook and eat
and drink on the hòng. On coming back from the cremation, the nihu
gets some money, clothes, salt, and a knife. He shares the salt with
his own kur, if any are present. The ingjir-arlo next morning has to
clean up the dancing ring (ròng-ru kàngru, or tikup karkòk).

The ceremonies of the funeral are performed by the neighbours and
cunning men and women of the village, and the old people of the
family. The wife, children, parents, brothers and sisters of the
dead sit beside him and mourn, in spite of corruption, or even sleep
beside the decomposing corpse. "It is genuine grief, a national
characteristic. Even after the funeral service, they remember and
mourn; and the death of another renews their grief." The mourners
continue their lamentation, heedless of the dancing.

If a great man, such as a mauzadar (bikhoya) or leading gaonbura
(sarlar, sarthe), dies, in addition to the ceremonial described above,
there is another, called Làngtuk ("the well"). A well or pit is dug
outside the village, four-square, with sides ten to fifteen feet:
it need not be carried down to the water; stairs are made to the
bottom. At the corners are planted various trees. A tall upright stone
(lòng-chòng) and a broad flat stone (lòng-pàk), supported on short
uprights, are brought and set up, as in the Khasi hills. The risomar
come and dance there the whole day, with manifold apparatus. The uchepi
sings and places food of different kinds on the flat stone for the
dead man; his clothes and umbrella are put upon the tall stone, with
flowers. A fowl is killed for the well at the bottom of the pit, and a
goat, two ducks, and two pigeons are killed at the top, and their heads
thrown to the risomar. Then the people of thirty to forty villages
assemble. The uchepi sings extemporaneously before the memorial stone,
and the people dance and eat there until dark. After dark the company
go to the house and perform the usual service already described. The
làngtuk is very costly, for people have to be fed at two places, and
double the quantity of food for an ordinary funeral has to be provided.




FESTIVITIES.

The Ròngker is the annual compulsory village festival, held at the
time of the beginning of cultivation (June), or in some villages
during the cold season. Goats and fowls are sacrificed. Arnàm-paro
gets a goat, and so do the local gods of hills and rivers. A small
village will sacrifice two or three goats, a large village ten or
twelve. The flesh of the victims is eaten, with rice and rice-beer,
but only men can partake of the sacrifice. They must sleep on the
hòng apart from their wives that night. The gods are invoked in the
following terms: "We live in your district: save us and help us! send
no tigers or sickness, prosper our crops and keep us in good health,
and year by year we will sacrifice like this. We depend wholly upon
you!" There is no music or dancing at the Ròngker.

At harvest-home there is no sacrifice, but the whole village help
mutually in getting the crops in, and feast together on rice and beer,
and dried fish and dried flesh saved up against this celebration,
or fresh fish if procurable. No animals are killed, except in some
houses a fowl, lest the paddy brought home should decrease; this fowl
is eaten. On this occasion there is a little dancing on the hòng,
but with this exception music and dancing take place only at funerals.

Occasionally there is a Ròngker-pi ("great Ròngker") for the whole
mauza, as, for instance, to expel man-eating tigers. Each village,
headed by its gaonbura, brings its contribution to the great sacrifice,
and repairs to the mauzadar's or bor-gaonbura's house, where the
feast is celebrated.

Mr. Stack's notes do not mention the observance by the Mikirs of
general tabus, called in Assamese genna, such as are common among
the Naga tribes; [23] but personal tabus of various kinds, entailing
separate eating of food and abstinence from commerce of the sexes,
have already been indicated. Women during menstruation are said to
be unclean and unable to touch the cooking-pots.







V.

FOLK-LORE AND FOLK-TALES.

    Three Mikir stories--Legend of creation (Mr. Allen).


The Mikirs are fond of telling stories, but the historical
material which they contain does not appear to be of very ancient
date. Reference has already been made to the deliverance of the
Arlengs from slavery to the Khasis, and their contests with the
Kacharis under the leadership of Thòng-Nòkbe; also to their early
relations with the Ahoms. They have also myths dealing with the
creation of the earth and man, one of which has been related by
Mr. Allen, of the American Presbyterian Mission, and will be found in
the Appendix to this Section; it seems doubtful, however, whether it
is a genuine legend, or due to imagination stimulated by questions:
the concluding episode strongly resembles the Biblical story of the
Tower of Babel. These legends have not been handled by Mr. Stack,
and are therefore not reproduced here. The Rev. Mr. Moore notes that
"Mikir stories in general do not agree very minutely," and this appears
to be particularly the case in respect of tales of the intervention
of the gods in human affairs.

Mr. Stack wrote down, chiefly from the dictation of a Mikir named
Sardoka, who had become a Christian, a number of excellent stories,
which well deserve separate publication. Three specimens of these
are given here. They correspond in every respect, as will be seen,
with the general characteristics of folk-literature all over the
world. Folk-tales containing the same incidents, as is well known,
are found from Iceland to Japan, from Alaska to Patagonia. The
original source of such a tale is now incapable of identification. The
same sequence of events and general form recur everywhere; what is
distinctive and characteristic is not the progress of incident, but
the local dressing, the narrator's point of view, the colour of his
daily life which he lends to the details of the story.

The first of the three specimens is the favourite Indian form of a
sequence, well known in Sanskrit literature, but quite as popular in
Europe and in general folk-lore. It is given here, because another
version of the same narrative has been included by Dr. Grierson in
his Linguistic Survey, vol. iii. Part III. p. 223, as found among the
Aimol Kukis, a race of Tibeto-Burmans dwelling, far away from the Mikir
country, in the hills bordering the valley of Manipur on the east.

The second specimen tells of the adventures of an orphan, the son of
a widow, a stock figure in Mikir folk-tales, and abounds in local
colour. Here too the incidents in part coincide with those of a
folk-tale belonging to a very distant country, the part of Kumaon
bordering on Tibet, which will be found in vol. iii, Part I. of the
Linguistic Survey, pp. 483, 495, 510, 522.

The third is a remarkably complete and interesting version of the
wide-spread folk-tale of the Swan-maidens. It was most probably derived
from some Indian source, though, so far as known, no version of the
tale in its entirety, as told by Hindus, has yet been published. The
name of the hero, Harata-Kunwar, may be the Indian Sarat-Kumar, and is
evidently not Mikir. But all the setting--the colloquies of the six
brothers and their father, the attempt on Harata-Kunwar's life, his
methods in defeating his treacherous kinsmen, his device for winning
his fairy wife, and many other features of the story--seems genuinely
local. The narrative is an excellent specimen of Mikir diction, and
shows no little skill in composition. In vol. iii. Part II. of the
Linguistic Survey, there will be found, at pp. 218-220, a short story,
entitled, "How Jesu got a goddess for his wife," which is identical in
motive with this tale of Harata-Kunwar. It is current among the Angami
Nagas, a race much less influenced by Hindu culture than the Mikirs.

The original Mikir text of these tales will be found in the next
Section; the English translation here given is as literal as it
was possible to make it. In the Linguistic Survey, vol. iii. Part
II. pp. 395-403, two other short stories of the same character, both
text and translation, have been printed. The second of these, the
story of the clever swindler Tèntòn, evidently belongs to the cycle
of tales called Tenton-Charit, mentioned, in its Assamese version,
as existing in manuscript by Mr. E. A. Gait, at page 68 of his Report
on the Progress of Historical Research in Assam, 1897.




1. STORY OF A FROG.

One day a big black ant went to carry a meal of rice to his uncle. A
frog sat down in the road and blocked it. The ant said, "Please make
way for me, frog; I want to carry this rice to my uncle." The frog
answered, "You can get by if you creep under me. Every one has to
pass under me who goes this way." The ant said, "My uncle's rice
is tied up in a bundle of leaves; how can I possibly creep under
you?" But the frog would not give way, so the ant would not go. In
this manner things went on till noon. Then the ant said, "Oh, my uncle
will be hungry for his rice and angry with me because he does not get
it!" And he crept under the frog. Then the frog sat down flat on the
top of the ant. Thereupon the ant gave the frog a sharp bite in the
loins. Then the frog, becoming angry, jumped on the ladder of a big
old squirrel, and broke it. The old squirrel, becoming angry, cut in
two the stem of a gourd. [24] The gourd, becoming angry, fell plump
on the back of a wild boar. The wild boar, becoming angry, rooted up a
plantain-tree. The plantain-tree, becoming angry, fell upon a sparrow's
[25] nest and broke it. The sparrow, becoming angry, flew into the
ear of a deaf elephant. The deaf elephant, becoming angry, rooted up a
rock. The rock, becoming angry, rolled down and killed the Raja's son.

Then the Raja held a court to try the case. "Who is it that killed
my son?" "Oh, the rock rolled down and killed him," they said. So
they summoned the rock. "O rock, rock! why did you roll down and
slay my son?" The rock answered, "Oh, Lord God King! how was I to
help rolling down and killing him? The deaf elephant uprooted me on
a sudden from my place, and then gave me a push. As for me, I have
no hands or legs; how then could I withstand him? Your son being in
the way where I was rolling down, I rolled upon him and killed him."

Then the Raja said, "Oh, then that deaf elephant was the cause of all
this trouble," and summoned the elephant. "O elephant, elephant! what
did you root up the rock for?" The elephant answered, "Oh! how could
I help uprooting it, Lord God? The sparrow flew into my ear, and I
lost all control of myself, and so I tore up the rock."

Then the Raja said, "Oh, then that sparrow was the cause of it all,"
and summoned the sparrow. "O sparrow, sparrow! why did you fly into
the elephant's ear?" The sparrow answered, "Oh, Lord, how could I
help it? The plantain-stalk fell upon my nest and smashed it, and
being very disturbed in mind, I flew into the elephant's ear."

Then the Raja said, "Oh! then that plantain-tree was the cause of the
trouble," and called the plantain. "O plantain, plantain! what did you
tumble on the sparrow's nest and smash it for?" The plantain answered,
"Oh, how could I help it, Lord God? The wild boar tore me up out of
the ground, and I had no root left at all. How was I to go on standing
in my place? I have neither hands nor feet."

"Oh! then that pig was the cause of it all," the Raja said, and
summoned the pig. "O pig, pig! what did you tear up the plantain
for?" The pig answered, "How could I help it? As I was feeding quietly
by myself, the gourd fell plump on my back. I was in great pain,
and therefore tore up the plantain tree."

Then the king said, "Oh, the gourd caused all this trouble," and
summoned the gourd. "O gourd, gourd! what did you tumble on the wild
boar's back for?" "How was I to help it, Lord God? The squirrel cut
through my stem. I have neither hands nor feet, nothing but a stalk;
if that is cut through, I cannot but fall. So I was obliged to tumble
on the wild boar's back."

Then the Raja said, "Oh, that squirrel caused all the mischief," and
summoned the squirrel. "O squirrel, squirrel! what did you cut through
the stem of the gourd for?" The squirrel answered, "Oh, how could I
help it, Lord God? The frog jumped on my ladder and broke it. Then
I had no road to get out, and I had to cut the stalk of the gourd."

The Raja said, "Oh, then that frog caused the mischief," and summoned
the frog. "O frog, frog! what did you jump on the squirrel's ladder
and break it for?" The frog answered, "How was I to help it? A big
black ant bit me sharply in the loins, and with the pain of the bite,
not knowing what I was doing, I jumped on the squirrel's ladder and
broke it."

Again the Raja said, "Oh, it was the ant that caused all the trouble,"
and summoned the ant. "O ant, ant! what did you bite the frog in the
loins for?" The ant said, "How could I help biting him? In the morning
I was carrying my uncle's rice along the road. The frog sat down and
blocked the way. I said, 'Please make room for me to pass.' 'Creep
under me,' said he. I crept under him, and he sat down tight on the
top of me. That was why I bit his loins."

Then said the king, "You are both of you guilty." They tied the
ant fast with a hair from a man's head; so now his waist is very
small. The frog they beat severely with a stinging-nettle, [26]
so now he is spotty all over.




2. STORY OF AN ORPHAN AND HIS UNCLES.

Once upon a time a widow woman had an only son. His mother had six
brothers. One day at evening his uncles said to the orphan, "Nephew,
let us go and set up a fish-trap." [27] So the orphan went with
them. Then the six brothers, his uncles, having built a good weir
up-stream, set the trap. The orphan, having put together a few stones
down-stream, below his uncle's trap-weir, set his own trap carelessly
in the middle of them, and returned home. The next morning they all
came to look at their traps. The uncles' trap, though very well put
together, had not caught so much as a cray-fish; as for the orphan's
trap, it was quite full of fish. Then the uncles said, "Nephew, we
will set up our trap here; do you go down-stream and set up your trap
again." Then, after the uncles had set up their trap in the orphan's
trap-weir, the orphan again set up his trap downstream. But again the
fish entered it just in the same way; while not one fish had got into
the uncles' trap, the orphan's trap was quite full of fish. Every
morning the uncles continued to take for themselves the place where
the orphan's trap had been. At last the orphan, becoming very tired
of continually setting up his trap in a different place, one morning,
instead of fixing the trap in the stream, placed it on a clump of
grass and left it there. Next morning his uncles came and called to the
orphan: "Nephew, let us go and look at the traps." The orphan answered,
"For my part, I have not set up my trap at all; nevertheless I will
go with you as your companion." So saying, he went with them. Then
he went to look at his trap, and found that a wood-pigeon had got
inside it. He tied this wood-pigeon with a noose and brought it home.

That orphan had one calf; you could not imagine how fat and sleek
it was. His uncles, being unable through envy to look at that calf,
killed it. Then the orphan, having taken off the calf's skin, took
one leg and secretly hid it in the house of a rich brahman who
lived at a distance. Then the orphan said, "Oh! how strongly the
house smells of cow's flesh!" The brahman, becoming angry, said,
"May a tiger eat you, you wicked boy! [28] How should there be
any cow's flesh here? I am a brahman--produce it, if you can: if
you cannot, I will take your life." The orphan said, "Very well,
I will make a search." He began to search in a careless, lounging
way; but coming to the place where he had hidden the calf's leg,
he suddenly pulled it out. "See, this is cow's flesh," said he; "I
told you so." Then the brahman, fearing lest, if other people came
in and saw this, his caste would be destroyed, said to the orphan,
"Orphan, my good sir! don't tell any one. I will give you a cloth-full
of money." [29] So saying, he gave him a cloth-full of silver,
which the orphan took with him to his home. When he arrived there,
he said to his mother: "Go and ask my uncles for their basket." His
mother went and called out: "Brothers! your nephew says he wants a
basket." Then the widow's brothers, having given her a basket, said
among themselves, "What does he want to do with the basket? Go and
watch." So they sent the youngest of them, and he went and watched,
and saw the orphan measuring the money with the basket. Then the
one who had watched returned home and told his brothers: "Where did
that nephew of ours get all this money? He is actually measuring the
rupees with a basket!" After they had finished measuring the money,
the orphan's mother went and returned the basket. Her brothers said
to her, "Send our nephew here." When the widow reached her house
she said to her son, "Your uncles bid me ask you to go and see them;
they want to speak to you." So the orphan went, and his uncles asked
him, "Where did you get all that money?" He answered, "It is the
price of cow's flesh; I went a-selling the flesh of my cow which you
killed. The people said, 'There is not enough of it for us,' and they
all bade me to bring more." His uncles asked him again, "Then if we go
selling cow's flesh, they will take more of it?" The orphan replied,
"Certainly they will take more; you have many cows, and if you kill
them all and go and sell their flesh, how much money will you bring
back!" Then each one of his six uncles killed a cow, and having made
the flesh into loads went to sell it. The orphan explained to them,
"When you arrive at the village of that rich brahman, offer your
meat for sale. Call out in the village as soon as you reach it,
'Who will take more cow's flesh?'" So these six brothers, taking up
their beef, went on their way, and, arriving at the brahman's village,
they cried, "Who will take more cow's flesh?" The people answered,
"We will take more; bring it here," and called them in. So when they
arrived at the brahman's house, all the inhabitants of the village,
having gathered together, seized those six brothers who had come to
sell cow's flesh, and having tied their hands, beat them soundly,
and said, "We are brahmans; do you dare to come here and traffic,
offering cow's flesh for sale?" So saying, they let them go. Then
those men who had brought the beef returned homewards, and on the
way took counsel together: "Oh, how that orphan has cheated us! Not
only has he caused us to kill our cattle; over and above that, he has
got us skins that smart all over. As soon as we get home, let us set
fire to his house!" So when they reached home, they set fire to the
orphan's house. Then the orphan, having woven two baskets, collected
the ashes of his burnt house, and made them into a load, and went to
a distant village where the people suffered from sore eyes. In that
village there was not a man who had not a pain in his eyes. When they
saw the orphan coming with his load of ashes, they asked him "Why
have you come hither?" The orphan answered, "Oh! when I heard that
your whole village was suffering severely from sore eyes, I came to
sell medicine to cure the complaint." "Oh, that is very good indeed,
dear sir," said they, and all the people of the village collected a
load of money, and gave it to the orphan. Then the orphan said, "Do
not apply this medicine to your eyes just yet; after I have gone a bit
of the way I will call out to you, 'Apply it'; then rub it in." So the
orphan, having got a load of money in exchange for his ashes, started
for home; and when he had got a little bit of the way, the people with
sore eyes called out to him, "Shall we not apply the medicine yet?" He
answered "Wait a bit!"; and he continued telling them to wait so long
as he was near the village. But when he arrived at a distance where
he thought they could not catch him, he called out, "Now apply the
medicine!" Then the sore-eyed people applied to their eyes the ashes
they had bought from the orphan. As soon as the medicine touched them,
their eyes began to smart as you cannot imagine! The pain in their
eyes became much worse than ever before. They said among themselves,
"Oh! how that fellow has cheated us, and gone away! if he comes again,
let us bind his hands fast and beat him!"

When the orphan reached home, he sent his mother again to fetch his
uncles' basket. The widow went to her brothers' house, and, having
lent her the basket, those six brothers said among themselves, "Go,
young one, watch again; what is he going to do with the basket?" So
the youngest went again secretly to watch. Again he saw the orphan
measuring money; and again he went back and carried the news to
his brothers: "Our nephew has returned, bringing with him much more
money than the last time." Then the six brothers went to the orphan,
and asked him, "Where did you get so much more money?" The orphan
answered, "It is the price of the ashes of my house that you set
fire to. The people in the place where I sold the ashes were crying,
'It is not enough, bring us as much more again!' Now, my house was
but a little one, and so the ashes were not much. But your houses
are big, and if you set fire to them and sell the ashes, how much
money will you get for them! It will be more than you can possibly
carry." Then the six brothers, his uncles, said one to another, "Let
us too set fire to our houses." So, having burned down their houses,
they gathered together the ashes, and each brother took as heavy a
load as he could carry. Then the orphan explained to them: "Take the
loads to the village of sore-eyed people, and, when you arrive near
it, say, 'Will any one take ashes?'" So these six brothers went their
way, and, when they came near the village of sore eyes, they called
out, "Will anyone take ashes?" Then the sore-eyed folk called out,
"Bring them here." So they went into the village. As soon as they got
inside, all the people bound them fast with ropes, and rubbed into
their eyes the ashes which they themselves had brought, and thrashed
them soundly. When the thrashing was over, the six brothers started
to return home. On the way they took counsel again together: "Oh, how
that villain has deceived us! Not only has he got us smarting skins;
he has, over and above that, caused us to burn down our houses and
our harvests. Now, immediately we get home, let us make him fast in
an iron cage, [30] and throw him into the river."

So when they got home they seized the orphan, and having shut him up
in an iron cage they took him to the bank of a great pool in a river
in the jungle. Then they said, "In a little while we will drown him;
now there is no chance for him to escape us, so let us go and eat our
rice." So saying, they went to eat their food. When they had gone away,
a certain king's son, who was hunting deer, came by. When he arrived
where the orphan was, he asked him, "What is the reason why you are
tied up in that iron cage?" The orphan answered, "My uncles have a
daughter, so lovely! You cannot imagine how fair she is. They tell
me to marry her, but I always answer that I will not. So my uncles,
becoming angry, have shut me up in this cage." Then the king's son
said, "Oh! then can I get her to wife?" "If you get into this cage
and stay there, you will be able to get her," the orphan answered;
"after a while my uncles will come, and will say, 'Have you nothing
more to say?' If they ask you this, then answer them, 'All I have
to say is that I will take her, uncles.'" "Very good then," said
the prince. Then the orphan said to the king's son, "If you go into
the cage wearing your own fine clothes, they will recognize you at
once. So let me out. I will give you my clothes, and then you can
enter the cage." So the king's son opened the cage and let out the
orphan, and the orphan gave his clothes to the prince, while the
prince gave his coat, dhoti, necklace, and bracelets in exchange to
the orphan, and entered into the cage. Then the orphan made fast the
door of the cage, and having dressed himself in the prince's clothes,
necklace, and bracelets, went away to his home. Then the orphan's
uncles returned from eating their rice, and coming up to the cage
asked, "Have you anything more to say, nephew?" "All right, uncles,
I agree to take her," answered the king's son, as the orphan had
told him to say. Then they threw him in the iron cage into the deep
pool. Thereupon the six brothers, the orphan's uncles, said one to
another, "How much trouble that fellow caused us all! Now, however,
he is dead and done with!" Then they returned home.

When they got there, lo! they saw the orphan again, not dead at
all, wearing the king's son's clothes, necklace, and bracelets,
splendidly adorned and decked out as you could not imagine! They
said one to another, "The orphan is not dead after all! There he
is, decked out and strutting in his finery!" They went up to him
and asked, "Nephew, how is it that you arrived here so soon?" The
orphan answered, "Oh, uncles, my grandmothers and grandfathers sent
me back here in a palki very quickly. Immediately I arrived there,
my grandparents gave me these fine clothes, this necklace, and these
bracelets. Only look at them! They sent word, too, that they wanted
you also to be told to come to them; as a token, they sent this gold
knife--see!" So saying, he showed it to them. Then his uncles said,
"How shall we manage to get there?" "Let each one of you take an iron
cage with him to the river bank, and get into it there," answered the
orphan. So each man took a cage to the river bank and got inside. Then
the orphan tied each tightly up in his iron cage, and threw the eldest
brother in his cage into the deep pool. As he fell, quantities of
bubbles came up on the surface of the water. The orphan cried, "Look,
uncles! My eldest uncle has drunk so much of the rice-beer which my
grandparents have given him, that he is vomiting." Then he brought
the next brother and threw him into the water; and so having cast
all his six uncles, one after another, into the stream, the orphan
returned to his home. Then his aunts, his uncles' wives, asked him,
"When will your uncles come back again?" "They will not come very
soon; have they not just met their parents, after being separated
from them for so long a time?" replied the orphan. So after waiting
three or four nights his aunts asked the orphan again, "Why have your
uncles not come back by this time?" He answered, "They will come very
soon." Then after waiting two or three nights more they asked again,
"Why have not your uncles come yet?" Then the orphan spoke clearly,
"Put each man's share of rice in the nòksèk." [31] So his aunts cried,
"Ah! they are dead and gone!" And understanding this at last, they
wept and made lamentation.

So the orphan became rich, and there was no one left to envy him. And
having become a great king, he lived a happy life.


    Note.--Two incidents in this story, viz. the profit made by
    the orphan by disposing of the flesh of his slaughtered calf,
    and his gain by selling the ashes of his burnt house, and the
    disappointment of his uncles when they endeavoured to imitate
    him, much resemble the incidents of a folk-tale given as an
    illustration of the Tibeto-Burman dialects of Rangkas, Darma,
    Chaudangs, and Byangs in vol. iii. Part I., of the Linguistic
    Survey. These dialects are spoken in the northern portion of
    Kumaon, on the borders of Tibet. In this version the animals
    slaughtered are goats and sheep, and the profit is made out of
    their skins, while the ashes of the burnt house are by an accident
    exchanged for a load of flour. Still, the motif is the same, and
    the great distance of the country where this tale is current from
    that of the Mikirs, and the impossibility of inter-communication,
    make the coincidences interesting.




3. STORY OF HARATA KUNWAR

Harata Kunwar was one of six brothers, the youngest of them. From
his very birth he spent his time in shooting deer and wild pig, and
never laboured in the fields. His elder brothers, the five, did the
field work. Then they, the five brothers, took counsel together with
their father, saying, "This Harata Kunwar does no field work, but
spends his time in hunting. Let us talk the matter over at night." So
that night they talked it over. The father said to his eldest son,
"How will you supply me with rice?" He answered, "As for me, I will
become a head man of a village, and sit in assembly night and day;
from the rice-beer which people will bring me as the head man's
perquisites, I will supply you with good white rice and beer." "And
you, the second son, how will you supply me with rice?" "As for me,
I will become a blacksmith; night and day will I spend in forging
knives and daos; with the money produced by these I will furnish you
with beer, betel, pan, good white rice, and all kinds of spirit." "And
you, the third son, how will you supply me with rice?" "As for me,
I will labour in the fields, and having filled granaries and barns
with produce I will give you good beer and good white rice." "And you,
the fourth, how will you provide for me?" "As for me, I will go as
a companion to some one, and what that person gives me of rice and
beer I will give you." "And you, the fifth, how will you provide for
me?" "As for me, I will become some one's slave, and will support
you with the rice and beer he gives me." "And you, Harata Kunwar,
in what way will you furnish me with rice?" "As for me, I will marry
a daughter of the Sun-god, and having become a great king, I will
seat you on a throne, on a fine couch, I will cause slaves, male and
female, to bathe your arms and legs, and I will give you beer, rice,
and spirits." So they finished their talk. Next day, in the place
where they worked at their field, Harata Kunwar not being with them,
those five brothers consulted again together with their father. "This
Harata Kunwar says he will take to wife the daughter of the Sun-god
and become a king, forsooth! Where will he get his kingship? Let
us kill him, and let us talk about it again to-night." That night,
after they had eaten and drunk, they consulted together about the way
in which the killing was to be done. "Let us build a field-watcher's
hut [32] for Harata Kunwar, on the border of the jungle let us build
it, and make him watch there; then at night let us go and thrust him
through with a spear." Harata Kunwar's sister-in-law overheard them
as they were conspiring together. Next morning, after they had eaten
and drunk and gone away to their work in the fields, Harata Kunwar
came home from his hunting. His sister-in-law gave him his rice,
and after he had eaten and drunk she said, "Let me kill that insect
on you, Harata Kunwar." Then she killed a louse, and as she killed it
a tear fell upon Harata Kunwar's leg. He asked her, "Sister-in-law,
are you crying?" And his sister-in-law said, "I am not crying, a
raindrop fell upon you." Again, as she killed a louse, a tear fell the
second time. Harata Kunwar asked her again, "You really are crying,
sister-in-law; tell me why you are weeping." So she told him: "My
father-in-law and your elder brothers have plotted together to make you
watch by night in a jungle hut, and then they will thrust you through
there with a spear, they say; that is why I am weeping." Harata Kunwar
said, "You need not be afraid; you have told me: it is well. To-morrow
morning you will see what happens. If I am not dead, I will come home
to you after they have gone, and I will throw six clods, taken from
the worm-castings, on the roof of this house. If you don't hear the
noise of them on the roof, you will know that I am dead." So in the
evening his brothers came home from the field, and his father said,
"This night Harata Kunwar must go and watch for us in the jungle
hut. Wild pigs are eating up our paddy. There, by the side of the
jungle-clearing, we have built for you a watcher's hut." So, having
eaten and drunk, Harata Kunwar took with him his bow and went. Then
having gathered the fruit of the puroi-sak, [33] he put the juice of
it into the sheath of a plantain-stalk, and having made it like the
form of a sleeping man he put some clothes on it and laid it as though
sleeping in the hut. He himself hid quietly under the shelter of the
rice plants. Then, after their first sleep, his father and brothers
awoke one another: "Come! let us go and kill Harata Kunwar." Then,
each one taking with him a spear, they went to Harata Kunwar's jungle
hut. Then the father said, "Go thou, eldest, climb up and thrust him
through." The eldest said, "How should I dare to put my spear through
him? he is our brother, our youngest brother, we have one mother and
father, and besides, we have sucked both of us at the same breast,
the same nipple. Since we are brothers, how should I dare to kill
him? I dare not." "Go, then, you, the second." The second answered,
"Oh! he is not the son of a second wife, own brother he is, our younger
brother; how then should I dare to kill him? I dare not." "Go, then,
you, the third." He answered, "Our thigh is one, our foot is one,
our arm is one, our hand is one; we have grown up together, he is our
brother. How could I possibly kill him? I cannot." "Go, then, thou,
the fourth." He said, "We sucked together at one nipple, own brothers
are we, no sister has he, how could I venture to kill him? I dare
not." "Go, then, you, the youngest." "Oh! why do you send me on such an
errand? I am the next to him. From childhood it was I who grew up with
him together. We ate our rice together from one platter; we drank our
beer from the same mug. How should I dare to kill such a one? I dare
not!" Then their father became angry. "Then why did you dare to say,
'We must kill Harata Kunwar'? If you cannot bring yourselves to do
it, you will never become men." So saying, he climbed up the posts
of the hut, and thrust his spear through that plantain-sheath, and
the juice of the puroi sak came dropping out from it. Then he called
out, "Harata Kunwar, strong though he be, has got his deserts now at
last! Let him marry the Sun-god's daughter and make himself a king
now!" Harata Kunwar overheard all this. "What, what are you saying,
my brothers?" he called out. Then, saying "Harata Kunwar has his
bow with him!" they ran away in fear, stumbling and falling as they
ran. When they got to their own jungle hut, they vomited, and on
the night clearing away, with great difficulty in the morning they
reached home. Then Harata Kunwar, after they had come, himself came
up, and took six clods from the worm-casts and threw them on the
roof. So after they had eaten and drunk, his brothers went away to
their field. Then Harata Kunwar came in, and his sister-in-law gave
him his rice. After eating and drinking, he said, "Sister! I cannot
remain here with you; my own brothers, nay, even my own father,
aim at my life, and are plotting to kill me. I must therefore go
a-wandering. Get ready and give me a store of rice to take with me,
bread, and parched grain." So his sister-in-law prepared food for him,
bread and parched rice. And he said to her when he parted: "If I do
not come by my death, then when I come here again I will throw six
clods from the worm-castings on the roof; then, when you hear them,
wash and make ready the stools and benches!" So they wept together,
and parted. Then Harata Kunwar, taking his bow with him, went on his
way. At last he arrived at his grandmother's house. "Oh, granny! are
you there?" The old woman answered, "Who is there? as for this place,
I have neither kin nor helper. Who is come?" Harata Kunwar answered,
"It is I, granny." Then the old woman said, "Why are you come,
my dear? I am a poor widow. I have neither house nor field. I live
only by begging my food. Why have you come?" Harata Kunwar answered,
"I will stay here with you and be your companion." The old woman said,
"You, who are fit to be a king; a great man, how will you be able to
live with me here?" Harata Kunwar answered, "Very good, granny; here
I will stay." So he became her companion there. Then his granny the
widow said, "Harata Kunwar, spread the paddy out in the sun to dry. I
will go and beg paddy in the king's village. After you have spread
out the paddy, if you want to bathe in the river, don't go up-stream;
bathe on the shore close by this house of ours." So having spread out
the paddy, his granny the widow went to the king's village. Harata
Kunwar took charge of the paddy; frequently turning it over, in a very
short time he dried it. Then he collected the paddy together and went
to bathe in the river. He thought in his own mind, "for what reason
did my granny, when she went away, tell me not to go up-stream to
bathe? I will go up-stream and see for myself." So saying, he went
up-stream. There he saw shards of broken water-vessels of gold and
silver lying. "Oh! that is why granny told me when she went away not
to go up-stream. At night I will ask her whose ghat (watering-place)
this is." So he returned home. Then his granny the widow in the evening
also came home again from the king's village. So at night, after they
had eaten and drunk, Harata Kunwar asked her, "Whose ghat is that
up-stream? There are broken pieces of gold and silver water-vessels
strewn all about it." Then the widow said, "I told you when I went
away not to go up-stream. You have been disobeying me and have gone
up there, I know?" Harata Kunwar answered, "Yes, I did go, granny;
now tell me whose ghat it is." So his granny the widow told him:
"It is the ghat of the King of the Great Palace. His daughters, six
sisters, come to that place to bathe; don't go there any more." Then
Harata Kunwar considered again by himself: "My granny tells me not
to go again, but go I will and see for myself." So up-stream he went
again, and hid himself quietly under the river bank. At midday the
six daughters of the King of the Great Palace came to bathe there in
the river. Descending beautifully, each one laid aside her clothes
and jumped into the water. This did one after the other, and fair
it was to see--like the brightness of the moon and sun; there they
bathed and frolicked in the water. Then when the day became cool,
the eldest sister admonished the rest: [34] "O my dears, it is cooking
time! time to serve up the food: time to house for the night our fowls
and our pigs. Our mother will scold us, our father will scold us,
if we stay any longer. Let us go." So they ended their bathing and
playing in the water. One after another they shook out their clothes
in the breeze and put them on, and beautifully flew away; but the
youngest of them flew away last of all, lovely like the brightness of
the moon or the sun. Until they were lost to sight in the heaven Harata
Kunwar continued gazing after them till his neck got a crook in it. So
they entered heaven, and he saw them no more. And he returned to his
house, thinking to himself, "How fair, how lovely! (I will not rest)
until I get one of them to be my wife! To-night I will ask granny
about it." So home he came, and after supper Harata Kunwar asked
his granny: "Oh, granny! such beautiful, such lovely ones I never
saw; how shall I get one to wife? Tell me a plan." His granny said,
"Oh, Harata Kunwar, these are children of the Sun-god, children of a
great king; how should you, who are a man's son, succeed in getting
one to wife?" Harata Kunwar said, "Not so, granny: get one to wife I
must and will. Show me a plan!" Since he continued to press her with
questions, at last she said to him, "If you must and will get one for
your wife, then clear a field on the river bank." "Very good, granny,"
said Harata Kunwar, "to-morrow, this very next day, I will go and
clear it." So he remained watching for the dawn to break, until the
sun fully rose. Then, taking with him a dao, he went. From the moment
he reached the place he rested not, but cut and hacked down the jungle
there, till in a single day he had finished the clearing. Then, having
heaped the fallen trees together, he set fire to them, and the fire
devoured them there, till there was not a single piece or stock left
that was not burnt. Then he dibbled in maize, small millet, sugar cane,
plantains; besides these he planted flowers--marvel of Peru, white
lilies, marigolds, [35] many kinds of flowers. Then the daughters
of the King of the Great Palace came down to bathe in the river;
beautifully they descended, fair as never was seen; like the moon,
like the sun in splendour, they came right down there. So, having
finished bathing and splashing about in the water, they spied Harata
Kunwar's garden plot. They said, "Oh, whose field is this? It is very
pretty indeed!" The eldest answered, "It must be our brother-in-law
Harata Kunwar's field." So they flew away beautifully again to heaven
together. Harata Kunwar there pondered in his mind: "Shall I ever
succeed in getting her to wife?" And again he asked his grandmother,
"Granny, when shall I succeed in getting one to wife?" His granny
answered, "Not in that way, grandson. Build for yourself a jungle
hut." So next morning a jungle hut he went to build. In a single day
he finished building one, great and big, and came home again. "The
jungle-hut is finished, granny," he said. "Then cut for yourself a
flute," advised his granny. So he cut several flutes for himself,
and bored holes in them. Then the time for maize and millet to ripen
came. And his granny advised him: "Go and watch in your jungle hut,
and play the flute." As for his field, in a very short time flowers
blossomed there as you never saw! Then the daughters of the King of the
Great Palace arrived to bathe in the river; flying down beautifully
one after another they laid aside their clothes and jumped into the
water, and bathed and frolicked. Then the eldest admonished them:
"Come, my dears, let us go." Thereupon Harata Kunwar began to play
on his flute so beautifully that you never heard the like. "Oh! this
flute-playing is very pretty to hear! Surely it is the man (called)
Harata Kunwar. Come, dears, let us go and ask for a few flowers." So
they went. "Harata Kunwar, we would like to pluck for ourselves a few
flowers. May we pluck and take some, sir?" "Yes," said Harata Kunwar,
"you can pluck as many as you like." Then each one plucked some flowers
and went away. Gracefully they flew away with the flowers. Until they
disappeared in the sky, Harata Kunwar gazed after them, until his eyes
became quite sore with gazing. So they returned into heaven. When he
could see them no more, Harata Kunwar also returned home. And his
granny the widow asked him, "Did you have any talk to-day with the
daughters of the King of the Great Palace?" "Yes, we had some talk;
they even asked to be allowed to gather some of my flowers." Then his
granny explained a plan: "To-morrow is a lucky day. Go, you, before
the Great King's daughters come down to bathe, and hide yourself as I
tell you, and watch by the river. The elder sisters, all five, have
got husbands already. As for the youngest, the King of the Winds is
asking for her to marry her to his son; already the gourds and chungas
of beer (for the wedding-feast) have arrived. Nevertheless, having
singled out her petticoat from among the others, while they are all
bathing, bring it here to me. I will weave a petticoat just like it
in exchange for it; take that one back there and put it down again in
the same place where her real petticoat was; her own petticoat let us
hide away. Then she will not be able to fly away. If she asks for her
petticoat back again, say 'One or other of you must marry me.'" "Yes,
very good indeed, granny," said Harata Kunwar. From the time that his
granny imparted to him that plan, Harata Kunwar's mind was so cheerful
as you could not imagine. All night long he could not close his eyes,
but went on thinking continually. So morning dawned. Then, having
breakfasted, he went to his field. "Oh, when will it be midday?" he
said, as he went on waiting. Then he hid himself quietly under the
sand. Then at midday the daughters of the King of the Great Palace
came. Gracefully they flew down there, and one after another removed
her garments and plunged into the stream. So when they were all in
the water, Harata Kunwar rose stealthily and seized the petticoat and
striped cloth of that youngest one, and carried them off straightway
to his granny the widow. And his granny wove in place of them another
petticoat and striped cloth just like them. In a very short time she
had done them, and Harata Kunwar ran back again there, and having put
the new petticoat and striped cloth in the same place, himself went
into his jungle hut and played the flute. Wonderfully he played it
there; never was heard such playing.

So when they had had enough of bathing and sporting in the water,
the eldest admonished her sisters: [36] "O my sisters, let us go! it
is time to pound the rice, time to clean it after pounding: time to
cook, time to serve up: time to heat the beer, time to squeeze it
from the rice-grains." So having put on her clothes she said again,
"Come, let us go and ask for a few flowers." Then, having plucked some
flowers, first the eldest flew up, then the younger sisters also flew
up to her gracefully, and last of all the youngest also tried to fly,
but found she could not. If she flew she fell back again there; if
she got up and tried to fly again, she fell back a second time. Then
the eldest said, "Oh! what in the world is the matter?" So the elder
sisters also came down again there, and went and said to Harata
Kunwar, "O Harata Kunwar, without doubt it is you who have changed
our youngest sister's petticoat; therefore, bring it back!" So they
called out, and Harata Kunwar answered, "One or other of you must
be my wife." The daughters of the King of the Great Palace said,
"How is it possible that any of us should stay here and be your
wife? We have each of us got husbands already." Harata Kunwar said,
"Then I cannot give you the petticoat; one of you must positively
marry me." Then the daughters of the King of the Great Palace said
to one another, "Sister! do you marry him." The eldest answered,
"How should I marry him? I have a number of children already." "Then
you, the next, you marry him." "How can I marry him? I also have four
children already." "You, the third, you marry him, then." "How can
I, when I also have three children already?" "Then you, the fourth,
you marry him." "I also have two children already; how should I marry
him?" "You, the fifth, you marry him." "I cannot marry him; don't you
know that I also have one child already?" "Then you, the youngest, you
marry him." The youngest answered, "As for me, the King of the Winds
is asking for me to marry me to his son, the gourds and chungas of
beer (for the wedding feast) have arrived already. How can I possibly
marry him?" Her eldest sisters said, "Well, but you are not married
yet. You must marry him, dear. It is getting dark; we must go. There
at home our fowls and our pigs will be calling out for us; besides,
our mother and father will be looking out for us. And We will come
and visit you from time to time." Then the youngest one said, "What
is to be done, sisters? Well, I will marry him; you go. Our mother
and father will be angry." Then the eldest one said: "Harata Kunwar,
you would not listen to our instructions, therefore we are leaving our
youngest sister here with you; but be careful not to grieve or trouble
her. Do not make her cook or serve up; moreover, touch not her hand
or her foot." So, after giving parting instructions to their youngest
sister, they flew away gracefully to heaven again together. The pair
who were left behind continued gazing after them till they were lost in
the heaven and they could see them no more. Then Harata Kunwar said:
"It is getting dark, let us two also go home." So Harata Kunwar was
happy and joyful. Night and day he shot deer and wild pig, and his
platform and drying stand [37] (for drying flesh on) were never dry
(i.e. without flesh exposed on them to dry).

So one year came to an end. "O Granny, I say to myself, 'I will go
home'; what am I to do?" said Harata Kunwar. "Sure, you have your own
house, you have your own field; you can go if you like; nevertheless
your wife is not yet entirely at one with you here." "Nay, but,"
said Harata Kunwar, "is it not a whole year (since we were married),
granny?" "Nevertheless, you have not come to perfect agreement
yet." "Oh, then," said Harata Kunwar, "I cannot go yet." So Harata
Kunwar stayed there, working in the field and labouring, and getting
barns and granaries stored with the produce to such an extent that
the widow's house was filled up with baskets and barrels full of
grain. And God gave Harata Kunwar a child, one son only. Then he asked
his grandmother again: "Granny! I keep saying to myself, 'we will go
home to my mother and father.'" The widow answered, "Your wife has
not yet thoroughly accommodated herself to you, grandson." "Not so,
granny; she has indeed. Has she not already borne me a son?" "Go,
then. You would not listen to the warnings I gave you from time to
time. Go together. But your wife has not yet made up her mind to
stay with you, I assure you." So Harata Kunwar said to his wife,
"My dear! let us two go together to our home." His wife answered,
"Go. Wherever you take me (I will go too)." Then the morning dawned,
and they took their breakfast and started. They went a bit of the
way. Now, his child and his wife Harata Kunwar bound firmly to his
waist with his turban, and so carried them. And so as they went on they
saw a jungle-cock [38] scratching the ground in a wonderful way on the
mountain side. Harata Kunwar said, "Oh, jungle-cock, what are you doing
there? I am in a hurry to get home; leave the road open to me." The
jungle-cock answered, "I will not leave the road open to you. I say to
myself, 'Harata Kunwar to-day will bring along his wife and child,'
and I am watching the way he is coming." Harata Kunwar rejoined,
"What jest is this? Be careful, lest in a little you have to say,
'when Harata Kunwar brought his wife and child to his home and field,
my life was lost.'" The jungle-cock said, "I don't say so; to-day
(we will see whether) you or I will prevail." Harata Kunwar said,
"Is that true?" "True." "Do you swear it?" "I swear it." Then Harata
Kunwar, setting an arrow to his bow, shot him.

Then as he went on a little further (he came upon) a cock-pheasant
[39] blocking the road, and scratching in a wonderful way on the
mountain side. And Harata Kunwar said again, "Oh, cock-pheasant,
what are you doing there? I am in a hurry to get home; leave the road
free to me." The cock-pheasant answered, "I won't leave the road free
to you. I say to myself, 'To-day Harata Kunwar will bring along his
wife and child,' and I am watching here the way he is coming." Harata
Kunwar said, "Oh, don't be silly, lest you have to say in a little
while, 'when Harata Kunwar brought along his wife and child, I lost
my life.'" The cock-pheasant said, "I don't say so." Harata Kunwar
said again, "Are you in earnest?" "In earnest." "Do you swear it?" "I
swear it." Then Harata Kunwar set his bow and shot him.

Then, as they went on still further, a wild boar, so big as you never
saw or imagined, with his tusks overlapping his mouth, was straddling
across the road, and rooting up the earth there on the mountain side
in an extraordinary way. And Harata Kunwar said, "Oh, wild boar,
what are you doing there? leave me the road open, I want to get home
quickly." The wild boar answered, "I will by no means leave you the
road; saying to myself, 'To-day Harata Kunwar will bring along his wife
and child,' I am watching the road he is coming." Harata Kunwar said,
"Oh, don't joke! is it true or not?" The wild boar answered, "It is
true." Harata Kunwar said, "Be careful, lest in a little while you
have to say, 'when Harata Kunwar brought along his wife and child,
my life was lost.'" The wild boar said, "I don't say so." "Are you
in earnest?" "Yes." "Do you swear it?" "I swear it." "Oh, then----"
So saying, Harata Kunwar set his bow and shot him.

Then, when he had nearly arrived at his house, he collected six
clods from the worm-casts, and threw them on the roof. Then his
sister-in-law said, "Harata Kunwar has come home! Wash the stools and
the benches!" Then they washed all the stools and seats and planks and
benches. And Harata Kunwar, bringing along with him that wild boar,
put it down beside the hedge, and entered the house. And as soon as
he arrived, his sister-in-law gave him there beer, bread, and parched
rice. His wife was so very beautiful that no one could look her in the
face, as one cannot look straight at the brightness of the sun. Then
his brothers were perplexed, saying, "What in the world has happened
to us this night?" And Harata Kunwar said, "A short time ago I shot a
little pig on the road. I just put it down there beside the hedge. Go
and get it and scorch it (for cooking)." So his five brothers went,
but the boar was so very big that they could not even move it; they
could do nothing with it at all. So Harata Kunwar went with them. With
one hand he easily lifted it and brought it away; and they scorched
it and cut it up. So home they brought it and cooked it and served
it up, and joyful, noisy, laughing and jesting, they ate and drank.

Then next morning dawned. Hearing that Harata Kunwar had brought
his wife home, all the people of the whole country-side kept coming
and going to gaze upon her, in such crowds as you never saw. And
Harata Kunwar put away carefully in a bamboo chunga his wife's own
petticoat and striped cloth, with her gold ornaments, her necklace,
and her gold drum (Ass. madoli) worn on the breast, and tied them
up in the pitch of the roof. So Harata Kunwar went to pay visits to
the people of the village, and the ryots of the country-side came
to visit him; and then they went on to gaze upon his wife. And all
the women--aunts on mother's and father's side, sisters-in-law, elder
brothers' wives--each one said, "Oh! is she not lovely, sister!" Thus
they wondered at her. Then Harata Kunwar's wife answered, "Not so
lovely yet as I might be. If I were to put on again my own petticoat,
my striped cloth, my necklace and my bracelets, then, indeed, there
would be something to see!" Then some old woman said, "Oh, then, give
them to her." And Harata Kunwar's old father said, "Where in the world
did that idiot of a boy put them away? Why did he not give her her own
petticoat and striped cloth?" Then Harata Kunwar's wife explained:
"They are there in the roof-pitch where he has tied them up." So
his father untied the bundle and gave it to her. Then she put the
things on and arrayed herself. Thereupon she became inconceivably
beautiful. "Oh!" they cried, "lovely! beautiful indeed! It is not
for nothing that she is called child of the Sun-god!" Thereupon
Harata Kunwar's wife rose up to her full height, and flapped her
clothes, and gracefully flew away back to her own place. Then Harata
Kunwar, happening to see her from where he was on a distant road,
kept continually bending his bow. And his wife said, as she left him:
"Wait, wait! hereafter we shall meet again." So Harata Kunwar, weeping
bitterly, sick and sorry at heart, came to his house. Immediately he
got there, without eating or drinking, he took his child on his back,
and straightway set out for the house of his grandmother the widow
woman. Thus he went on till he arrived, and at once on arrival began
to weep and wail as you could not imagine. Then his grandmother said:
"I told you from the first that your wife was not yet reconciled to
her lot with you. How will you get to see her now? How will you be
able to reach her in heaven?" This only aggravated his weeping;
refusing meat and drink, he followed his grandmother wherever
she went, continually dogging her steps, and was like to die of
grief. At last his grandmother said, "Harata Kunwar, take a little
food, and then I will tell you of a plan." So he took something to
eat, bread and parched rice, and then his grandmother told him her
scheme. "To-morrow," she said, "the son of the King of the Winds
will come there to marry your wife. Before that, your father-in-law's
elephant will come here to bathe. Do you go and hide yourself there
under the sand. When the elephant (after its bath) is just about to
go, hold on tight to its tail, and bind your child firmly to your
waist with your turban. If the elephant asks you anything, say that
you also are going to the place where your wife is. Then to-morrow,
in the evening, you will arrive there. Remain concealed on the river
bank. Then male and female slaves will come to draw water there in
order to bathe your wife. Call out to them, 'Give me one draught of
water for the child.' Then, if they give you the water, drop into
the water-pot a gold ring. Then she (i.e. your wife) will call for
you. Go to her, and when you arrive, put down your child on the ground;
then the child will go of itself towards its mother."

The morning dawned, and Harata Kunwar, after eating and drinking, went
to the river bank and hid himself quietly under the sand. Then the
elephant came down to bathe in the river, and having bathed, was just
about to go away, when Harata Kunwar grasped firmly hold of its tail,
and with his turban tied his child securely to his waist. Then the
elephant flew up with him to heaven, and put him down on the river
bank there. And all the people of the King of the Winds had come to
the house of the King of the Great Palace in order to celebrate the
marriage of the son of the King of the Winds with Harata Kunwar's
wife. And the King's slaves, male and female, came to draw water in
order to bathe Harata Kunwar's wife. And Harata Kunwar called out
to them for water for his child: "Give me just one draught of water
for my son, good mothers!" One after another paid no attention to
his request, till at last an old woman came up. So Harata Kunwar
called out again: "Give me water, one draught only, good madam, for
my child." So the old woman gave him some water. Making as though
he would take hold of the water-jar, Harata Kunwar dropped into it
a gold ring. Then they brought the water for Harata Kunwar's wife's
bath. After washing delicately her arms and her legs, they poured
the old woman's water-jar over her head, and the gold ring fell
out. Then Harata Kunwar's wife asked, "Oh! who is the person whose
water-jar has just reached me?" Then one after another they said,
"It's not my water-jar." Then all called out together, "It is the
old woman's jar." Then she said to the old woman: "Where did you get
hold of this ring? Seize that man and bring him here at once. If you
cannot bring him, it will be a matter of your life." So the old woman,
weeping and lamenting, came to Harata Kunwar and called out to him,
"Be pleased to come with me! What was the reason why your Honour,
under pretence of asking me to give you water, had it in your mind to
make me lose my life?" So Harata Kunwar, taking the child on his back,
went with her. Immediately on arriving he put the boy down on the
ground, and the child ran straight into its mother's lap and began to
suck her breast. Then the King of the Great Palace said: "Why! such a
thing as this was never seen! They have got a child big between them
already!" So the King of the Winds' folk were ashamed and disgusted,
and returned home sad and sorry. So they celebrated the wedding of
Harata Kunwar and the daughter of the King of the Great Palace.

So Harata Kunwar remained there one year, two years, and laboured at
tilling the fields, so that he got twelve barns, twelve granaries full
of grain. Then said Harata Kunwar to his wife: "My dear! we two, like
the sparrow or the dove, should have a nest at least, a roosting-place
of our own. Therefore let us go away together. Do you ask father-in-law
and mother-in-law." So at night Harata Kunwar's wife asked her parents:
"O father and mother, your son-in-law says, 'we two, like a sparrow or
a dove, should at least have a nest, a roosting-place of our own. Let
us go away together,' and he bade me ask you about it. What are your
commands in the matter?" So the King of the Great Palace said: "My
daughter! I have once for all given you away to this man like a bundle
of greens, and have nothing more to do with you. Go away together,
to-morrow if you like, or to-day if you prefer it." Then he went on
to say, "What do you two desire of me? slaves, male or female? ryots,
husbandmen? gold? silver?" So she went and told Harata Kunwar: "My
dear! my mother and father say, 'You may go away together to-day or
to-morrow as you please: moreover, slaves, male and female, ryots,
husbandmen, gold, silver,--mention whatever you desire'--so they
say." And Harata Kunwar said, "I want nothing at all." And morning
dawned. Then Harata Kunwar went and did obeisance to his father
and mother-in-law. And his father-in-law said to him, "What do you
desire? slaves--handmaids--ryots--husbandmen--gold--silver?" Harata
Kunwar said, "I need nothing." Then Harata Kunwar and his wife,
the wedded pair, and their son started for home, and in due course
arrived there. A king he became, a great man, and night and day he
lived in happiness and greatness, and his kingdom was great and stable.




APPENDIX.

THE LEGEND OF CREATION.

    Condensed from Mr. Allen's (of the American Presbyterian Mission)
    replies to ethnographical questions, dated October, 1900.


Long ago the gods Hèmphu and Mukràng took counsel together for the
creation of the world. They marked the limits of their work, setting
up four great posts to fix the boundaries of things, and fastened them
immovably with six of their mother's hairs. Then they looked for seed
to produce the earth, but found none. Then they consulted a hundred
other gods, with their wives, making, with themselves and their wives,
two hundred and four in all. It was decided to send one of the wives to
beg for some earth from the god Hajòng, and Bamon's wife was sent on
this errand. But Hajòng refused to give any earth from his world from
which a rival world might be fashioned, and sent the goddess Bamonpi
away empty-handed. But as she returned she noticed the worm-casts on
the road, and carried off one and hid it in her bosom. But even with
this piece of warm earth nothing could be done, until the gods sent
for Helòng Recho, the king of the earth-worms, who came and worked
up the piece of earth, till in one day it became a heap many feet
in diameter; so he continued, till eventually it became this earth
of ours. But it was still soft moist earth, on which no one could
travel. So they called Kapràng the blacksmith, who with his bellows
produced a wind which dried the mud to solid earth. Then the gods said,
"We must cause plants to grow on it." They searched everywhere for
seed, and at last sent to Rèkbepi in the west, by the great post that
marked the place of the setting sun, to ask her for seed. Rèkbepi came,
and herself brought seed and sowed it. (Another version states that
Rèkbepi and Rèk-kropi, wives of two gods, went to Kana, beyond the
boundaries of this world, and obtained from him the various seeds of
trees and plants. As they were returning, the sinàm, or head-strap,
which held the baskets on their heads broke, and the winds scattered
the seeds on the surface of the earth. This occurred on the bank of
the river Kallang, in the south-eastern part of Nowgong. But all the
bamboos that grew from these seeds were jointless, and therefore weak:
strong winds would break down the entire crop in a single storm. So
the goddesses who brought the seed tied round the stems pieces of
thread to strengthen them; the threads made scars, until at last all
the bamboos we have now are marked with scars at the joints.)

Next came the creation of animals. Hèmphu and Mukràng were the leaders,
but they were helped by Pithe and Pothe ("great mother" and "great
father"). The elephant was first created to be a servant to man. Then
the tiger was made, and bidden to eat the wicked; any one killed by
a tiger is still thought to have committed some great crime.

Then a great council was held, and it was decided to create a
being called arlèng (man). The first man's name was Bamon-po,
and he had created for him two wives, one a Mikir and the other an
Assamese. But no offspring was born to the man for a long time. At
last the Assamese wife sent her husband to her elder brother, who
understood the secrets of nature. He sent Bamonpo into his garden,
and bade him pick an orange for each of his wives, and give it to her
to eat, when all would be well. Bamonpo did so, and went homewards
with his two oranges. On the way, becoming hot, he stopped at a river
to bathe. While he was in the water, a crow came and carried away
one of the oranges. Bamonpo sadly returned to his home, and gave
the one orange left to his Assamese wife, who ate it. But the Mikir
wife picked up a piece of the peel and ate it, and in process of time
she had a son, whom she named Ram. The Assamese wife also had a son,
whom she called Chaputi. He, however, was weak and puny, while Ram
was strong and valiant. Ram could pull up trees by the roots, and
break them down as he pleased. He could fight and conquer any demon
who attacked him, and any man whom he met. But he had no wife. One
day while out hunting he became thirsty, and climbed a tree to look
for water. He saw a pool, at which he quenched his thirst. As he did
so, he noticed in the grass a white thing, which he put in his basket
and carried home. It was a large egg. For some days he forgot to look
at it, and later on, when he went to see it, he found that the egg
was broken, and a beautiful woman had come forth from it. The demons
tried to seize her and carry her off, but Ram vanquished them all, and
made her his wife. She was very fruitful, and her children multiplied
until they were numbered by thousands. Ram's fame spread throughout
the world, till at last he disappeared, and was deified by a race
of his descendants, called Hindus. They were a mighty race of men,
and in the course of time, becoming dissatisfied with the mastery of
the earth, they determined to conquer heaven, and began to build a
tower to reach up to the skies. Higher and higher rose the building,
till at last the gods and demons feared lest these giants should
become the masters of heaven, as they already were of earth. So they
confounded their speech, and scattered them to the four corners of
the earth. Hence arose all the various tongues of men.


Additional note to p. 45.--A very exact parallel to the story of
Harata Kunwar will be found in Mr. S. J. Hickson's book entitled A
Naturalist in North Celebes (London, 1889), pp. 264-6. It is a story
current among the Minahassa people of that region, of heavenly nymphs
in whose clothes resided their power to fly, and one of whom was
captured by a man who made her his wife; other details agree closely
with those of the Mikir story.







VI.

LANGUAGE.

    Outline of Mikir grammar--The original text of the three stories
    translated in Section V., analysed and elucidated.


The language spoken by the Mikirs belongs to the great family of
Indo-Chinese speech called Tibeto-Burman, the general characteristics
of which have been fully set forth in The Linguistic Survey of India,
vol. iii. Mikir itself is treated on pp. 380 ff. of Part II. of that
volume, and is described by Dr. Grierson as a member of the Naga-Bodo
sub-group, in which it is classed together with Empeo or Kachcha Naga,
Kabui, and Khoirao. It is unnecessary here to occupy space with any
demonstration of the fact that Mikir is a Tibeto-Burman language, or
to cite lists of words in it agreeing with those of other languages of
the same great class. In the next section an attempt will be made to
examine its affinities with other varieties of Tibeto-Burman speech,
and to define more clearly its place in the family; in this the
language will be dealt with in its internal structure only, and,
as specimens, the original text of the three stories translated
in Section V. will be given, with an interlinear rendering and a
running commentary.

A grammatical sketch of Mikir was printed at pp. 381-391 of Part
II. vol. iii. of the Linguistic Survey. What follows is mainly borrowed
from that source, which was the first published attempt to explain
systematically the facts and mechanism of the language.




SOUNDS.

Mikir has no written character of its own. The first publication
printed in it, a short catechism issued by a missionary press at
Sibsagar in 1875, used the Assamese character; since then, so far as
is known, the Roman alphabet has always been employed to express the
sounds of the language. Mr. Stack, from whose materials this monograph
has been compiled, distinguished the following vowel sounds:--

    a,  long a as in father (chiefly in open syllables);
    à,  the same shortened and pronounced abruptly, as in the German
        Mann, always in closed syllables;
        (N.B. The language does not possess the short Hindi a,
        representing the u in but.)
    e,  the long e in the French scène;
    e,  the same sound shortened, as in belief;
    è,  the sharp e in the English men (always in closed syllables);
    i,  the long i in machine;
    i,  the short i in it;
    o,  the long o in bone;
    o,  the same shortened, as in obey;
    ò,  the sharp abrupt sound in pot (always in closed syllables);
    u,  the long u in June;
    u,  the short u in full.


The diphthongs are--


    ai, as in aisle;
    ei, almost as in feign, with the i audible;
    oi, as in boil;
    ui, long u with i added: no English equivalent.


The consonants used in Mikir are b, ch, d, h, j, k, l, m, n, ng, p,
r, s, t, v (all with their value as in English), and the aspirates
kh, ph, th (pronounced as in cookhouse, haphazard, anthill). Bh,
dh, and g occur only in a few borrowed words, and bh and dh are
commonly resolved, as bahar (for Hindi bhar), "a load," and dohòn
(for Ass. dhon), "money." F, sh, w, y, and z are not used. Ng is
never initial, and the g is not separately heard (always as in singer,
never as in younger).




MONOSYLLABIC ROOTS.

The root words of the language, whether nouns, adjectives, pronouns,
verbs, or adverbs, are generally monosyllabic; where simple roots
have more than one syllable, the additions are formative prefixes,
once probably separate words, which have become incorporated. Such
are the prefix ke-, ki-, ka-, used to form adjectives, present
participles, and verbal nouns; and the prefixes ar- (in arni, "sun,"
arlòng, "stone," arlèng, "man," etc.), ing- (in inglòng, "mountain";
inghòn, "pity," etc.), and te-, ti-, to- (in teràm, "call," tekàng,
"abandon," tikup, "house-yard," tovar, "road," etc.), of which the
precise significance is not now traceable. In compound roots, formed
by combining monosyllabic elements, the force of each individual
syllable is still fully felt; such compounds are exceedingly common.

Words are not inflected, but are located in sense by their position
in the sentence or by the addition of particles. These particles may
often be omitted where ambiguity is not likely to occur; such omission
is particularly frequent as regards the postpositions indicating case,
and the tense-affixes of the verb.




GENDER.

Gender is not distinguished except for animated beings, and in them
either (1) by added words indicating sex (as so-po, "boy," so-pi,
"girl"; aso-pinso, "male child"; aso-pi, "daughter"; chainòng-alo,
"bull"; chainòng-api, "cow"), or (2) by the use of different terms (po,
"father," pe or pei, "mother," phu, "grandfather," phi, "grandmother,"
etc.).




NUMBER.

The ordinary suffix for the plural is -tum (which is originally a
separate word meaning "company," "followers"); but other words are
occasionally employed, as mar, a "mass, quantity, or company"; òng,
"many"; and li, a respectful form used in addressing a number of
persons. When -tum is suffixed to a noun, it takes the prefixed a-
of relation, as arlèng-atum, "men"; when added to a personal pronoun
it does not require this adjunct, as will be explained below (ne,
"I," ne-tum, "we"; nàng, "thou," nàng-tum, "ye"; la, "he, she, it,"
la-tum, "they").




CASE.

Case is indicated by position, or by postpositions. The nominative,
and, generally speaking, the accusative, have no postpositions, but
are ascertained by their position in the sentence, the nominative
at the beginning, the accusative following it before the verb. Both,
when necessary, can be emphasised by the addition of the particles -ke
and -si, which in some sort play the part of the definite article; but
these are not case-postpositions. There is no device (as in Tibetan)
for distinguishing the case of the agent with transitive verbs.

The genitive always precedes the noun on which it is dependent. When
the word in the genitive is a pronoun of the first or second person,
nothing intervenes between them: ne-mèn, "my name"; nàng-pe,
"thy clothes." But when, the pronoun is in the third person, or a
noun is in the genitive case, the following noun has a- prefixed:
e.g. la a-po, "his father"; Arnàm a-hèm, "God's house"; hijai-atum
a-kàm, "the jackals' work"; arni-kàngsàm a-pòr, "day-becoming-cool
time." This prefixed a- is really the pronoun of the third person,
and means his, her, its, their; the full meaning of the combinations
given above is therefore "he, his father": "God, his house": "the
jackals, their work": "day becoming cool, its time." As in many
other languages of the Tibeto-Burman family, nouns (especially
those denoting personal relations, parts of the body, etc.) are
seldom conceived as abstract and self-contained; they most often
occur in relation to some other noun, and thus the syllable a-
is more often prefixed to them than not. Especially is this the
case with adjectives; these ordinarily follow the noun which they
qualify, and almost always have a- prefixed; e.g. Arnàm a-kethe,
"God Almighty": la a-kibi a-bàng, "that younger one." Sometimes this
prefixed a- is thinned down to e-, as in hèm-e-pi, hèm-e-po, "widow,
widower," literally "female or male owner of the house": hijai e-hur,
"a pack of jackals." Most postpositions (originally nouns joined
to the genitive of the qualified word) similarly require a- before
them; and the suffix -tum of the plural, since it means "a company,"
also in this manner assumes the form a-tum. Before ing- the prefix a-
is absorbed, and the result is àng.

The other cases are formed by postpositions. The instrumental is
generally indicated by pèn (sometimes with prefixed a- or e-,
as apèn, epèn, but more often without), or pèn-si. The dative
takes a-phàn, "to or for," which is also occasionally used for the
accusative. The sign of the dative of purpose is apòt: pi-apòt,
"what for, why?" kopi-apòtsi, id. The ablative is formed with pèn or
pènsi: nòn-pèn, "from now"; dàk-pèn, "from here"; apara (Ass. para)
is also used, generally with pèn as well. The locative has a number
of postpositions, according to the position required: -si is used for
"in," as hèm-si, "in the house," adèt-si, "in his country"; arlo is
also used for "in, inside." Le (properly the conjunctive participle
of a verb meaning "arrive, reach to a place") is often used as a
postposition for "at, in." Other common locative postpositions are
a-thàk, "upon, on," àngsòng, "above, upon," arum, "below," aber,
"below," alòng "together with" (lòng means "place"), adun, adung,
"beside, next to" (dun is a verb meaning "to be with, accompany"),
adàk, "between," àngbòng, "in the middle of," aphi, "after."




ADJECTIVES.

Adjectives are regularly formed by prefixing ke-, ki-, or ka- to the
root, and do not change for gender, number, or case. Thus, from the
root me, "to be good," we have keme, "good"; helo, "distance," kahelo,
"far off"; dòk, "to have savour," kedòk, "savoury"; ho, "to be bitter,"
keho, "bitter"; lòk, "to be white," kelòk, "white"; ri, "to be rich,"
kiri, "rich." Ke- and ki- are generally used with monosyllables, ka-
with longer words; ka- with ing- forms kàng.

The form of the adjective is precisely the, same as that of the present
participle of the verbal root, used to form the present tense, and also
as that of the infinitive or abstract of that root, and the collocation
of the sentence alone determines the meaning of the word used. When
particles of comparison or other modifying elements are added to the
adjective, the prefix ke- etc. is often dropped as unnecessary; thus--


    kelòk, "white"; lòk-hik, "whitish."
    keme, "good"; me-mu, "better"; me-ne, "best."
    keding, "tall"; ding-mu, "taller."


But kàngtui, "high"; kàngtui-mu, "higher"; kàngtui-ne, "highest."

Comparison is effected by means of the postpositions apar and aphàn;
"his brother is taller than his sister," a-te apar (or aphàn)
a-kòr ding-mu.

Adjectives commonly follow the noun qualified; when they precede,
the construction corresponds to what in Aryan languages would be
indicated by the relative pronoun (see below, p. 80).




NUMERALS.

The cardinal numerals are isi, one; hini, two; kethòm, three; phili,
four; phòngo, five; theròk, six; theròk-si, seven; nerkèp, eight;
sirkèp, nine; kèp, ten. It will be seen that seven is six plus one,
eight ten minus two, nine ten minus one. From eleven to nineteen
kre takes the place of kèp: kre-isi, eleven; kre-hini, twelve;
kre-kethòm, thirteen, etc. A score is ingkoi, and from this point
onwards the syllable ra is inserted between the multiple of ten
and the added units: ingkoi-ra-isi, twenty-one; ingkoi-ra-hini,
twenty-two, etc. Thirty, forty, etc. are formed by adding kèp to the
multiplier unit: thòm-kèp, phili-kèp, etc. Eighty is theròk-nerkèp,
ninety theròk-serkèp. A hundred is pharo or paro, a thousand suri.

The numeral follows the noun. In composition hini (except with bàng,
"person") is reduced to ni, and kethòm to thòm, as jo-ni jo-thòm,
"two or three nights." Phili and theròk are often contracted to phli
and thròk.

Generic determinatives, as in many other Tibeto-Burman languages,
are commonly used with numbers:--

with persons, bàng, as a-òng-mar kòrte bàng-theròk, "his uncles,
the six brothers";

with animals, jòn (perhaps an Assamese loan-word), as chelòng
jòn-phili, "four buffaloes";

with trees and things standing up, ròng: thèngpi ròng-theròk "six
trees";

with houses, hum, as hèm hum-theròk-kèp, "sixty houses";

with flat things, as a mat, a leaf, a knife, pàk: as tar pàk-phòngo,
"five mats"; lo pàk-phili, "four leaves"; noke pàk-thòm, "three
knives";

with globular things, as an egg, a gourd, a vessel, pum: as vo-ti
pum-ni, "two eggs"; bòng pum-theròksi, "seven gourds";

with parts of the body, and also with rings, bracelets, and
other ornaments, hòng: as kèng e-hòng, "one leg"; roi hòng-ni,
"two bracelets."

One of anything is not formed with isi, but, if a person is spoken of,
inut (a Khasi loan-word) is used: if anything else, e- is prefixed
to the generic determinative; "one cow," chainòng e-jòn; "one tree,"
thèngpi e-ròng; "one book," puthi e-pàk; "one egg," vo-ti e-pum. This
e- appears to be borrowed from Assamese, where it is shortened from èk.

Ordinals are formed by prefixing batai to the cardinal, as
batai-kethòm, "third," batai phili, "fourth." They seem to be little
used: in the story of Harata Kunwar it will be seen that clumsy
periphrases are employed to designate the second, third, fourth, and
fifth brother of the family to which the hero belonged. Distributive
numeral adverbs are formed by prefixing pur or phòng to the cardinal:
pur-thòm or phòng-thòm, "thrice."




PRONOUNS.

The following are the personal pronouns:--

1st Person:   ne, I; ne-tum, ne-li, ne-li-tum, we, excluding the
              person addressed: i-tum, i-li, we, including the person
              addressed;
2nd Person:   nàng, thou; nàng-tum, nàng-li, nàng-li-tum, ye;
3rd Person:   la, he, she, it; la-tum, they; alàng, he, she; alàng-li,
              alàng-atum, alàng-li-tum, they.

(The pronoun la is really a demonstrative, = this, that: it is probable
that the original pronoun of the third person was a.)

These pronouns take the postpositions like nouns. The possessive or
genitive prefixes are ne, my, our, excluding the person addressed;
e- or i-, our, including the person addressed; nàng-, thy, your; a-,
his, her, its, their.

The demonstrative pronouns are--la, labàngso, bàngso, this;
pl. labàngso-atum, these: hala, halabàngso, that; pl. hala-tum,
halabàngso-atum, those. The syllable ha- connotes distance, as dàksi,
ladàk, here; ha-dàk, there; ha ahèm che-voi-lo, "he returned home
from a distance."

(There appears once to have been another demonstrative pronoun, pi,
pe, pa, still preserved in the compound words pi-ni, "to-day," penàp,
"to-morrow," pedàp, "this morning," paningve, "to-night." Instead
of pi and pe we also find mi, me,  as mi-ni, me-nàp. This survival
is important for the purpose of comparison with other Tibeto-Burman
languages.)

As in other Tibeto-Burman languages, there is no relative pronoun;
its place is taken by descriptive adjectival phrases. Thus "those
six brothers who had gone to sell cow's flesh" is--


la    chainòng a-òk     kejòr-dàm-a-tum        kòrte    bàng-theròk.
Those cow      's flesh to sell going (plural) brothers persons-six;


"The man whom Tenton had tied with an iron chain" is--


            Tèntòn ingchin a-ni-pèn   ke-kòk  arlèng.
            Tenton iron    chain-with tied-up man.


In these constructions, it will be seen, the adjective or qualifying
participle precedes the noun.

The interrogative syllable, used to form interrogative pronouns,
is ko-: komàt, komàt-si, who? kopi, pi, what? ko-pu, ko-pu-si,
kolopu, kolopu-sòn, how? ko-àn, ko-ànsi, how many? konàt, konàthu,
where? konàm-tu, nàm-tu, nàm-tu-si, when? Always when the sentence
does not contain an interrogative pronoun, and sometimes when it
does, the syllable ma at the end marks a question: "Are you afraid,"
nàng phere-dèt ma? Ne (probably an Assamese loan-word) is also used
instead of ma: "Will you marry him or not?" do-ji-ne do-de-ne?

The reflexive pronoun is amethàng, self; binòng, own; but the most
usual way of indicating that the action affects oneself is to prefix
the particle che- (chi-, ching-, cheng-, and rarely cho-) to the
verbal root: la hèm che-voi-lo, "he returned home," i.e. to his own
house; a-òng-mar-atum che-pu-lo, "his uncles said to one another";
che-hàng-jo, "they asked for themselves." With initial ing-, che-
coalesces to ching: with ar- it unites to form cher.




VERBS.

The Mikir verb indicates time, past, present, or future, by means
of particles prefixed or suffixed to the root. It does not vary for
number, [40] gender, or person. There is no separate verb-substantive,
though there are several ways of expressing existence, as do,
"stay, abide," used also for "have, possess"; plàng, "become"; làng,
"exist, continue (with a sense of incompleteness)"; le, "arrive,
happen," etc. Great use is made of adjectival or participial forms,
and, in narrative, of the conjunctive participle. Compound roots are
very extensively used, the principal verb being put first, then the
modifying supplements, and last the time-index.

The simple, or indeterminate present is expressed by the participle
with ke-, ka-, without any suffix: konàtsi nàng kedo, "where do you
live?"; vo kàngjar, "the bird flies"; sarbura thi-lòt-si ne ka-chiru,
"the old man having died, I am weeping"; ne-phu ke-so-kòn, "my head
is aching badly." This tense, as in other languages, is often used
historically for the past.

The definite or determinate present is expressed by the same participle
with -lo added: la kopi kànghoi-lo? "What is he doing (now)?"

The habitual present is expressed by the verbal root with -lo: as
vo-atum-ke ne-phu-athàk ingjar-lo, "the birds fly above our heads."

The simple or narrative past is formed by the verbal root with -lo or
-dèt added: la pu-lo or pu-dèt, "he said"; ne-phu so-dèt, "my head
was aching"; la keri-aphi-si lòng-lo, "he, after searching, found
it." Sometimes dèt and lo are used together: la ne ingtòn-dèt-lo,
"he abused me." Dèt may also be used for the present when the
state indicated by the verb is one that began in the past and still
continues: e.g. "Why are you afraid?" may be rendered kopi apòtsi
nang phere-dèt, or kopi apòtsi nàng kaphere?

The complete past is indicated by the root with tànglo added: la-apòtsi
ne dam-tànglo, "I went, or had gone, on his account"; telòng lòngle
pho-tànglo, "the boat has touched ground." Tang is a verb meaning
"to finish." There are besides a great number of other particles
indicating past time used with particular verbs. Thus, with verbs
meaning "to fall," bup and buk are common: hala che-koi-bup, "he
fell down"; hèm ru-bup, "the house collapsed"; lòng-chòng kli-bup,
"the upright memorial stone fell down"; lòng-pàk klo-buk, "the
flat memorial stone fell down"; thèng-pi àngsòng-pèn nàng-klo-buk,
"he fell down from the top of the tree." Such particles generally
indicate not only past time but abruptness.

A periphrastic past, with the root followed by inghoi-lo, "did,"
frequently occurs; this is probably an imitation of Assamese idiom.

Here may be noticed the prefix nàng, used, as the specimens show,
with great frequency in narrative. It has the effect of fixing the
occurrence to a known place, and may generally be rendered "there." It
is probable that this particle is originally the pronoun of the second
person, and that it refers to the knowledge of the person addressed:
"as you know," "as you see."

The future is represented in two ways: (1) by -po added to the root,
to indicate an action beginning now and continuing in the future; as
itum nònke labàngso akàm apòtsi pu-po, "we will talk about this affair
now;" and (2) by -ji added, for an action which commences later on;
as badu arlèng-ta thi-ji, "all men will die" (i.e. at some future
time). As -po includes the present in the case of continuing action,
it may be, and often is, used in a present sense; -ji is restricted
to future time.

A compound future may be formed by adding to the root with -ji the
words dòkdòk-lo: la thi-ji dòkdòk-lo, "he is just about to die";
àn cho-ji dòkdòk-lo, "it is near breakfast-time" (rice-eating); àn
ik-ji dòkdòk-lo, "the rice is nearly all done." A doubtful future may
be expressed by -ji added to the present participle: konàt chainòng
a-òk-si dàk-si kedo-ji, "where should cow's flesh be here?"

From the above it will be seen that there is much indefiniteness
in the indications of time afforded by the Mikir verb: except tàng
for the past complete, and -ji for the future, the other suffixes
may, according to circumstances, be rendered by the past, present,
or future; they may also on occasion be omitted altogether. But the
context generally removes all ambiguity.

Conditional phrases are formed by putting -te or -le, "if," at the
end of the first member, and the second generally in the future with
-ji or -po. Of the conditional future an example is nàng dàm-te, nàng
la thèk-dàm-ji, "if you go, you will see him." The conditional past
inserts asòn ("like, supposing that,") before -te: dohòn do-asòn-te, ne
la nàm-ji, "if I had money, I would buy it." The conditional pluperfect
modifies the second member thus: nàng dàm asòn-te, nàng la lòng-lòk
apòtlo, "if you had gone, you would have got it"; nàng ne thàn asòn-te,
ne la klèm tàng-lo, "if you had explained to me, I would have done it."

The imperative is, for the second person, the bare root, or more
usually the root strengthened by the addition of nòn or tha, and
dialectically of noi; nòn (= "now") is the strongest form. The other
persons are formed by the addition of nàng (a verb meaning "to be
necessary") to the future in -po or present in -lo: "let us go" is
i-tum dàm-po-nàng; "let us go to the field and plough," rit hai-bai
dàm-lo-nàng. We may, for the third person, use the causative form of
the verb: la-ke pedàm-nòn, "let him go."

Participles. The present participle has the form of the adjective,
with the prefixed ke- (ki-) or ka-; as kedàm, "going," ka-chiru,
"weeping." The past participle is the root or the present participle
with tàng added: dàm-tàng, "gone," thèk-tàng, "having seen,"
ka-pàngtu-tàng, "fattened."

Perhaps the most used form of the verb, especially in narrative,
is the conjunctive participle, which is either the bare root, or
the root with -si; hèm che-voi-si thèk-lo, "having returned home, he
saw." When the past is indicated, dèt is used, either with or without
-si, as cho-dèt jun-dèt, sarbura, tòn-arlo kaibòng patu-joi-si, i-lo,
"having finished eating and drinking, the old man, having quietly
hidden his club in a basket, lay down"; Tèntòn, dohòn-alàngbòng
lòng-si, rit dàm-de-dèt-si, kàt-jui-lo, "Tenton, having got the
bamboo-joint with the money, without returning to the field, ran away."

When the phrase in which the conjunctive participle occurs is
terminated by an imperative, the suffix is not -si but -ra: "having
eaten your rice, go," is àn cho-ra dàm-nòn; but "having eaten his rice,
he went," is an chodèt-si dàm-lo. While -si links together parts of
a narrative, -ra links together a string of imperatives.

The infinitive or verbal noun is identical in form with the present
participle; kum-kiròt tàngte kekàn arki nàng arju-lònglo, "he heard
(got to hear) there (nàng) the sound (arki) of fiddle (kum) scraping
(ki-ròt) and dancing (ke-kàn)." All words beginning with ke-, ki-,
and ka- may therefore be regarded as (1) adjectives, (2) participles
forming tenses of the verb, or (3) verbal nouns; and it will be seen
from the analysis of the specimens how clearly this at first sight
strange allocation of forms can be made to express the required sense.

In all Tibeto-Burman languages the passive voice is either non-existent
or little used; a sentence which in English would be stated passively
is turned the other way, and appears in an active form. Thus--"Four
trees were uprooted by the wind" would be rendered tomòn thèngpi
ròng-phili pi-pur-koi-lo, "the wind uprooted four trees"; "this house
has been thrown down by an earthquake" is chikli-si labàngso ahèm
pi-ru-hup-lo, "an earthquake has thrown down this house." Sometimes
a passive may be expressed by a periphrasis, as "I was beaten," ne
kechòk èn-tàng, lit. "I received a beating." The only unquestionable
example of a passive is in the case of past participles, and here the
passive is expressed by the simple expedient of putting the participle
before instead of after the noun: bàng kevàn ahòr, "the drink brought
by people"; maja kelòng arlèng, "a man bewitched"; ne ke-pi a-àn ahòr,
"the to-me-given rice and beer." This construction is exactly parallel
to the method (explained above) of expressing the relative phrase
by putting the adjective first, instead of after the noun, and is in
fact another case of the same idiom. The participle, which may also
(as just explained) be regarded as a verbal noun, comes before the
subject of the sentence, because the action passes on to the subject,
instead of emanating from it, as in an active construction. We are
tempted to think that languages which lack what seems to European
modes of thought such essential elements as a relative pronoun and
a passive voice cannot be capable of any subtlety of expression; yet
this phenomenon is common to forms of speech like Tibetan, Burmese,
and Chinese, which possess vast literatures dealing with all kinds of
subjects, and in which it is possible to render ideas of the greatest
complexity and variety. Even in Europe, the clearest and most logical
of languages, French, prefers to use the active form of phrase (with
on) rather than the passive.

The negative verb is a very interesting and remarkable feature
of the language. A separate negative root, formed by prefixing or
suffixing a negative particle, and conjugated in the same way as
the positive, is indeed a common property of Tibeto-Burman speech;
but in Mikir this secondary root is formed in a peculiar manner. The
negating syllable -e is added to the primitive, as un, "can," un-e,
"cannot"; òng, "be much," òng-e, "be not much"; i, "lie down," i-e,
"not lie down." But when the root begins with a consonant or a nexus
of consonants, and is monosyllabic, the consonant or nexus is repeated
before the added vowel: thèk, "see, be able"; thèk-the, "not see, be
unable"; dàm, "go," dàm-de, "not go"; kroi, "believe, obey," kroi-kre,
"disbelieve, disobey"; mèk-pràng, "eye-open, awake," mèk-pràng-pre,
"not awake." When the verb is of two or more syllables, the last is
chosen for reduplication: inghoi, "do," inghoi-he, "not do"; ingjinso,
"show mercy," ingjinso-se, "not show mercy"; chini (Ass. loan-word),
"recognise," chini-ne, "not recognise."

The secondary root thus obtained is treated in construction just
like the positive root, and takes the tense-suffixes: pàk-ta
pi-vàng-ve-dèt-lo, "anybody to give him (anything) came not." The
time-index is, however, with negative verbs more often dropped as
unnecessary, owing to the context showing what the time-relation is.

In the imperative the reduplication is not used; the particle -ri is
added to the positive root, with or without nòn as well: thèk-nòn,
"see!"; thèk-ri, or thèk-ri-nòn, "see not!"

It may be added that this method of forming the negative by
reduplication is also applied to verbal adjectives in ke-, ki-,
ka-, which thereupon usually drop the prefix: keso, "in pain, sick";
so-se, "not sick, well"; but kàngjinso, "merciful"; kàng-jinso-se,
"merciless."

Besides this organic negative, there is a periphrastic negative
formed by adding the word ave, "is not": Arnàm abàng ave, kechèng ave,
kapetàng ave, "God has no body, no beginning, no end" (lit. "God his
body is not, beginning is not, end is not"). The a in ave is the usual
a of relation, and may be dropped: alàm-ave "without a word"; làm-ve,
"word-less, dumb." Ka- may be prefixed, forming kave, used as an
adjectival negative: kopai (Ass. kopal), "fortune," kopai-kave,
"unfortunate." Another negative used separately, in emphatic
assertions, is kali: tovar nàng kepèk-ji kali, "the way I will by no
means yield to you"; ne-thibuk kali, "it is not my water-jar."

The causal verb is formed by prefixing the syllable pe-, pi-,
pa- [41] to the root: this is probably the verb pi, meaning "to give";
e.g. cho, "eat," pecho, "feed"; tàng, "finish," petàng, "cause to
finish, end"; ingrum, "be gathered together," pàngrum, "collect";
virdèt, "be lost," pi-virdèt, "destroy." This syllable takes precedure
of che- in reflexive verbs: e-chainòng e-pa-chi-thu-koi-làng, "he
has caused us to slaughter all our cows": here e- is the pronoun of
the first person plural inclusive of the addressee; pa-, the causal
prefix; chi-, the reflexive particle, indicating that the cattle
slaughtered were their own; thu, a verb, "to kill by cutting"; koi,
a particle indicating completeness; làng, the tense-suffix.

Compound verbs meet us at every step in Mikir. Roots are heaped
together, and the compound is closed by the tense-suffix. Ordinarily
the first root determines the general meaning of the compound, the
rest being adverbial supplements of modifying force:--chiru-pi-lèm-lo,
"he pretended to weep" (chiru, "weep," lèm, "seem, appear," pi-lèm,
"cause to seem, pretend"); ke-phlòng-dàm abàng, "somebody who will
go and set fire (to the funeral pile)" (phlòng, "kindle," dàm, "go");
kroi-dun-lo, "she consented" (kroi, "agree, obey," dun, "go or be with
another"); ne do-dun-ji-ma, "will you stay with me?" (do, "stay," dun,
as above). The texts which follow supply a multitude of other examples.

These adverbial supplements to verbs, inserted between the principal
verb and the tense-suffixes, are a very characteristic feature of the
language, and their proper use is one of the most difficult things for
a learner to master. Certain roots take constant supplements of this
kind, and are scarcely ever found without them; thus the verbs thi,
"die," i, "lie down to sleep," and jàng, "close the eyes," are almost
invariably followed by lòt; rèng, "to live," takes èt before verbal
suffixes; lòng, "to get," takes lòk; chingbar, "to be equal (in size,
weight, height)," and chingdòn, "to be equal in length," take chit;
inghòn, "to love," and ingjinso, "to pity," both take duk; jòk and
thèt, both meaning "to escape, get loose," take phlòt. The complements
for verbs meaning "to fall" have been mentioned above (p. 82). These
supplements frequently cause the tense-endings to be dispensed with,
in which case the action is understood to be in the narrative past
or historic present. No doubt most of them were originally separate
verbal roots, but are not now capable of being used separately.

The brief outline given above will, it is hoped, enable the reader to
apprehend the general construction of the narratives which follow,
and display the language in action; for further analysis reference
should be made to the notes appended to the texts.




I.

CHÒNGHOLOSO ATOMO.
FROG        STORY.


Arni-si miso-ròngpo     a-òng          àn   che-thòn-dàmlo. Chòngholoso
Day-one a big black ant (to) his uncle rice to carry went.  a frog

tovar   ingni-thip.           Ànsi miso    pulo: "Tovar   ne
the way sat down and blocked. Then the ant said: "The way for me

pèk-tha,    chòngholoso; ne ne-òng   àn   chethòn-dàm-ji." Chòngholoso
leave free, frog;        I  my-uncle rice carry-go-will."  The frog

pudèt:    "Ne-rum   ne-lut-thòt-ra       dàm-te:      pàkta
answered: "Under me entering (creeping)| go your way: every one

ne-rum-si dàm-hòr-le." Miso    pudèt: "Ne-òng     a-àn bòr
under me  passes."     The ant said:  "My uncle's rice leaf-bundle

do-kòk-le,     pusi nàng-rum-le    nàng-kelut-thèk-ji?"            Ànsi
being tied up, how  you-underneath enter, creep, shall I be able?" So

chòngho-ta pèk-pe,             miso-ta dàm-de.      Ànsi nerlo
the frog   would not give way, the ant could no go. So   day

chitim-lo.     Ànsi miso--"Ai,     ne-òng   àn-ingchir-si
became middle. So   the ant-- "Oh, my uncle rice-hunger-in

aning-ne-thi-po"       pulo; chòngholoso-arum lut-thòt-lo.       Àn-lo
angry with me will be" said; the frog-under   he entered, crept. Then

chòngholoso miso-athàk   ingni-dun-chèt-lo. Lasi      miso-ròngpo
the frog    the ant-upon sat-down-flat.     Thereupon the big black ant

chòngholoso a-mi  kòr-ràk.      Ànsi chòngho  aning-thi-ning-thi
the frog's  loins bit-severely. Then the frog becoming very angry

karle-sarpo-a-dòn         chòn-rai.              Karle-sarpo
squirrel-big-old's ladder (on) jumped and broke. The big old squirrel

aningthi-ningthi    hànthar-a-kòk ròt-pèt.    Hànthar
becoming very angry gourd's stem  cut in two. The gourd

aningthi-ningthi    phàk-belèngpi a-moi     klo-dup.    Phàk-belèngpi
becoming very angry a wild boar's back (on) fell plump. The wild boar

aningthi-ningthi    lo-bòng         thimur-phàk. Lobòng
becoming very angry a plantain-tree rooted up.   The plantain-tree

aningthi-ningthi    vo-arbipi a-tar   sàp-rai.          Vo-arbipi
becoming very angry a sparrow 's nest struck and broke. The sparrow

aningthi-ningthi    ingnar      no-thòng-po a-no   lut-thòt.
becoming very angry an elephant deaf-big    's ear entered.

Ingnar       no-thòng-po aningthi-ningthi    arlòng helàng-phlut.
The elephant deaf-big    becoming very angry a rock tore up suddenly.

Arlòng   aningthi-ningthi    Recho-   a-so   kònglòng-pi-bup.     Ànsi
The rock becoming very angry the King 's son rolling-down killed. Then

Recho    nàng-bisar-lo:   "Màt-si ne-po  pithi-lòtlo?" "Ai, arlòng-si
the King made an enquiry: "Who    my son has killed?"  "Oh, the rock

kònglòng-bup,"       pulo.      Ànsi arlòng   arju-dàmlo:
rolled down on him," they said. Then the rock he summoned to answer:

"O arlòng, arlòng! pi-apòt         nàng ne-so  kònglòng-bup?"
"O rock,   rock!   for what reason you  my son did roll down upon?"

Arlòng   pudèt: "Che! Hèmphu-arnàm-recho, pi  ne kònglòng-bup-be-ji?
The rock said:  "Oh!  Lord-God-King,      how I  to roll down-not was I?

Ingnar       no-thòngpo-si ne helàng-phlut-le          ne doi-phit-lo;
The elephant big-deaf      me torn up suddenly having, me pushed out;

ne-ke      ne-ri ave,             ne-kèng ave,          kolo-pu-si
as for me, (to) me hands are not, (to) me legs are not, how then

cher-chàk-thèk-ji? Nàng-sopo           ne kekònglòng a-tovar dokòksi,
withstand could I? Your honourable son my rolling down-path  being-in,

ne kònglòng-bup-lo-te."
I  rolled down upon him accordingly."


Ànsi Recho    pulo: "Mai! la   ingnar   no-thòng-po
Then the king said: "Oh!  that elephant deaf-big

la-ànsèt bòn-he"--               pusi,   ingnar   no-thòng-po
that so much (trouble) caused"-- saying, elephant deaf-big

arju-dàm-lo. "O ingnar    ingnar!   kopi-apòt       nàng arlòng
summoned.    "O elephant, elephant! for what reason you  the rock

helàng-phlut?"     Ingnar       pudèt:    "Che! pi  ne
tore up suddenly?" The elephant answered: "Oh,  how I

helàng-phlut-phle-ji,      Hèmphu arnàm? Vo-arbipi   ne-no
was to help tearing it up, Lord God?     The sparrow my ear

ne-kelut-thòt-si,    ne a-bidi thèk-the-dèt-lo-le,        la-helo   ne
having entered into, my wits   having lost control of me, therefore I

arlòng   helàng-phlut."
the rock tore up suddenly."


Ànsi Recho    pudèt--"Mai! la   vo-arbipi la-ànpin     bòn-he"
Then the King said--"Oh!   that sparrow   that so much (trouble) caused"

pu,     arju-dàmlo. "O vo-arbipi voarbipi! ingnar a-no
saying, summoned.   "O sparrow,  sparrow!  elephant's ear

kopi-apòt       nàng lut-thòt?" Voarbipi    thàkdèt--  "Che! Hèmphu! pi
for what reason did you enter?" The sparrow answered-- "Oh!  Lord!   how

ne lut-le-ji?          lobòng             ne-tar
I  was I not to enter? the plantain-stalk my nest

kesàp-rai-le,             la-helo   ne-ning oi-òng,               ne
falling on having broken, therefore my mind being very disturbed, I

ingnar a-no    lut-thòt."
elephant's ear entered."


Ànsi Recho    pu--"Mai!  la lobòng            lapu
Then the King said--"Oh! that plantain-stalk, it seems;

ànpin bòn-he"--             pusi   arju-dàm-lo. "O lobòng    lobòng!
so much (trouble) caused"-- saying he summoned. "O plantain, plantain!

nàng kopi-apòt       vo-arbipi     a-tar sàp-rai?"
you  for what reason the sparrow's nest  fell upon and broke?"

Lobòng       pudèt--"Che! pi  ne sàp-rai-re-ji,             Hèmphu
The plantain said--"Oh!   how I  was not to fall and break, Lord|

arnàm? Phàk-belèng-pi-si ne kathimur-phàk-le:      ne
God?   The wild boar     me rooted me up suddenly: I

thimur-phàk-lo-te      ne ingkur kave-dèt-lo-le:  kopu-si ne
having been rooted up, I  root   none had at all: how     I

karjàp thèk-ji-làng?                    Thàngbàk ne-ri
standing-up was to be able to continue? Any      to me-hand

ne-kèng          le-kedo   kali-dèt-le."
to me-leg being, existing, not-at-all there is."


"Mai! la phàk   pu        àn-pin bon-he,"            pu
"Oh!  that pig, it seems, all the (trouble) caused," saying

Recho pulo.    Ànsi phak-aphàn     arju-dàm-lo. "O phàk phàk!
the King said. So the pig (accus.) he summoned. "O pig, pig!

pi-apòt nàng        lobòng       thimur-phàk"? Phàk    pudèt    "Pi  ne
for what reason you the plantain rooted up"?   The pig answered "How I

thimur-phàk-phe-ji?       Ne     chopàn-vèk,           mamàtsi
could help rooting it up? (as) I was feeding, grazing, suddenly,

hànthar   ne-moi       keklo-dàp-le:       la-helo   keso-òng
the gourd my back (on) came tumbling down: therefore being in great pain

ne lobòng thimur-phàk."
I  the plantain rooted up."


Ànsi Recho--    "Mai! hànthar    pu    àn-pin bòn-he"
So   the king-- "Oh!  the gourd, then, all this (trouble) caused,"

pusi   hànthar   arju-dàm-lo. "O hànthar hànthar! pi-apòt
saying the gourd summoned.    "O gourd, gourd!    for what

phàk-belèng-pi       a-moi        nàng klo-dup?"    "Pi  ne
reason the wild boar 's back (on) you  fell-plump?" "How I

klo-dup-de-ji,      Hèmphu Arnàm? Karle-si     ne-kòk
could help falling? Lord   God?   The squirrel my stem (to me)

ne-keròt-pèt-le,    ne-ke thàngbàk ne-ri, ne-kèng
having cut through, I     at all   to me hand, to me foot

le-kedo kali-dèt,   ne-kòk   isi-pèt   àn-helo,        la-le
there-not-existing, my stem, one-only, so much having, that if

ne ròt-pèt-lo-te,     ne klo-nàng-po.           Phàk-belèng-pi
to me is cut through, I  must necessarily fall. The wild boar

a-moi        keklo-nàng-dup."
's back (on) falling became necessary."


Ànsi Recho    pu-le-lo--"Mai!  la karle      pu   àn-pin
So   the King said again--"Oh! that squirrel then so much

bònhe"            pusi   karle        arju-dàm-lo. "O karle
(trouble) caused" saying the squirrel summoned.    "O squirrel,

karle!    kopi-apòt       nàng    hànthar   a-kòk   ròt-pèt?"
squirrel! for what reason did you the gourd 's stem cut through?"

Karle        pudèt-- "Che! pi ne     ròt-re-ji,     Hèmphu Arnàm?
The squirrel said--  "Oh,  how I was not to cut it, Lord   God?

Chòngholoso-si ne-dòn    chòn-rai-le.        Lasi      ne    tovar
The frog       my ladder (on) jumping broke. Therefore to me a road

ave-dèt-lo:     ne hànthar      a-kòk ròt-pèt."
did not remain: I  the gourd 's stem  had to cut."


Recho    pudèt-- "Mai! la chòngho la-pu     àn-pin            bòn-he"
The King said--  "Oh!  that frog, it seems, so much (trouble) caused"

pusi   arju-dàm-lo. "O chòngholoso chòngholoso! kopi-apòt       nàng
saying he summoned. "O frog,       frog!        for what reason you

karle a-dòn           chòn-rai?"         Chòngho  thàkdèt--  "Pi  ne
the squirrel's ladder jumping on broke?" The frog answered-- "How I

chòn-rai-re-ji?                      Miso-ròng-po-si   ne-mi
was to help jumping on and breaking? The big black ant my loins,

ne-ke    kòr-ràk-le: la keso-òng-si       ne
even me, bit hard:   that pain-great-from I

karle-adòn-bo-po              ne chini-ne-dèt-si chòn-rai-te."
squirrel's ladder (honorific) I  not knowingly jumped upon and broke."


Recho    pu-le-lo--   "Mai! miso     pu    àn-pin         bòn-he"
The King said again-- "Oh!  the ant, then, caused all the trouble"

pusi   arju-dàm-lo. "O miso miso! pi-apòt  nàng    chòngholoso-a-mi
saying summoned.    "O ant, ant!  what-for did you the frog's loins

kòr-ràk?"       Miso    pudèt-- "Pi  ne kòr-ràk-re-ji?
bite severely?" The ant said--  "How I  was to help biting him?

Adàp           ne-òng      àn   che-thòn-dàm-lo:            Chòngho
In the morning to my uncle rice I was going along carrying: the frog

tovar    ingni-thip.           La-lo     ne 'tovar ne    pèk-tha'
the road sitting down blocked. Thereupon I  'road  to me free-leave'

pulo: 'ne-rum-le lut-nòn'   pu.      Ne lut-thòt-lo:     chòngho
said: 'me underneath creep' he said. I  crept under him: the frog

ne-thàk ne ingni-thip;           lasi      ne a-mi      kòr-ràk."
on the top of me sat down tight; therefore I  his loins bit-severely."


Ànsi Recho    pulo--"Nàng bàng-hini   kelèt-dèt."  Miso-ke
Then the King said--"You  persons-two guilty-are." The ant

chujèng-pèn       kòk-chèk-lo:      nòn a-vàm chèng-jàn.
hair of head-with they tied-firmly: now his-waist is very slender.

Chòngho-ke tarme-làng-bòng-pèn       sàp-phràt-phràt;       lasi
The frog   a blistering creeper-with they soundly thrashed; therefore

nòn phròk-se-nòk-tòk.
now he is speckled all over.




NOTES.

This simple and direct narrative, easy of analysis, affords an
excellent illustration of the mechanism of Mikir speech. First,
we observe that the indication of time is put at the beginning
of the sentence: arni-si, "one day"; adàp, "in the morning." Then
follows the subject, then the object, and last the verb, with all
its qualifications. The most frequent conjunction is ànsi, "and, so,"
which appears to be made up of àn, the particle indicating quantity,
and si, the particle indicating locality, used also for the conjunctive
participle; the meaning would then be--"so much having passed (what
follows comes next)." Àn-ke, àn-le and àn-lo have the same force.

For the tenses we find the usual suffixes, -lo, -dèt, for
the narrative past, -po for the present-future, and -ji for the
future. In the narrative a much-used auxiliary is -le, which means
"having arrived." The passage is remarkable for the number of cases
in which, no ambiguity being possible, the tense-particle is omitted,
and the past is expressed by the bare root, without, or more commonly
with, an adverbial supplement. Thus, we have pulo, pudèt, and pu
for "said"; ingni-thip, "he sat down and blocked," kòr-ràk, "bit
severely," chòn-rai, "jumped upon and broke," ròt-pèt, "cut in two,"
klo-dup, "fell plump," thimur-phàk, "rooted up," sàp-rai, "struck
and broke," lut-thòt, "entered," helàng-phlut, "tore up suddenly,"
pi-bup, "killed by tumbling on him," chò-pàn-vèk, "was feeding,
grazing," sàp-phràt-phràt, "beat soundly." Then, we notice that the
great majority of these cases are examples of roots qualified by the
addition of a particle which, while not used separately by itself,
gives energy and definiteness to the verbal root; this method of
heightening the force of verbs is a great characteristic of Mikir
diction, and is at once the chief beauty and the chief difficulty
(to a foreigner) of the language. The adverbial particles so used are
very numerous, but they are appropriated to particular verbal roots,
and if they were wrongly applied the result would be nonsense. Thus,
the particle lòt is used with three verbs only, thi, "die," i, "lie
down," and jàng "close the eyes," and always precedes the verbal
suffixes with these roots: it cannot be used with any other. Thòt,
again, always occurs with lut, "to enter," jòk and var, "to throw." Bup
conveys the idea of a sudden blow or fall, and is used with verbs of
falling or striking. Dàp and dup seem to have much the same force. Pèt,
koi, klip are particles used to indicate completeness; lut-pèt-lo,
"all have gone in," ròt-pèt-lo, "he cut through," cho-koi-lo, "he
ate up," thu-koi-lo, "he killed them all," cho-klip-lo, "he devoured
them." Several of these auxiliary particles seem to be onomatopoetic.

Much resembling the use of these particles are the cases in which
verbal roots are combined together to form a single expression. Thus,
in our story, thòn-dàm-lo "he carrying went"; do-kòk-le "remaining
tied-up"; ingni-dun-chèt-lo "he sat down suddenly (chèt) when the
ant was passing (dun)" (dun means "to be with," and is constantly
used as an auxiliary, but can also be employed alone in the sense
"to go with"); arju-dàm-lo "he summoned to answer"; ne klo-nàng-po
"I must necessarily fall" (nàng, verb of necessity).

The story gives a number of examples of the remarkable Mikir negative
verb: pèk-pe, "did not give way (pèk)"; dàm-de, "did not go"; pi ne
kònglòng-bup-be-ji, "how was I not to roll down upon him and smash
him?" where the negative syllable be borrows the initial consonant
of the qualifying particle bup; similarly, helàng-phlut-phle "not
suddenly root up"; sàp-rai-re "not strike and break"; chòn-rai-re
"not jump upon and break"; chini-ne-dèt-si "not knowing" (where chini
is a loan-word from Assamese).

As regards vocabulary, tha in ne-pèk-tha is the imperative particle:
another such particle (rarely occurring) is te in ne lut-thòt-ra
dàm-te; ra is used as the suffix of the conjunctive participle in a
string of imperatives. Hòr in dàm-hòr-le indicates plurality: "every
one has to pass under me"; other such particles are jo and jàm. Ta in
chòngho-ta and miso-ta gives definiteness and emphasis; so also ke in
ne-ke, &c. Sarpo in karle sarpo means "big chief": po is a syllable
added to give honour and dignity. Notice intensiveness indicated by
reduplication in aningthi-ningthi, "very angry"; ning-thi, angry,
is made up of ning, mind, and thi to be vexed (also to die). Hànthar:
see note on p. 46. Ròt-pèt means to cut down a slender stem or twig
by drawing a knife across it: pi-pèt to cut down a thick trunk of
a tree; ròt is used for drawing a bow across a fiddle in kum-kiròt
"fiddle-scraping." Belèng means a shovel or tray for winnowing rice;
phàk-belèng-pi is a wild pig, because he roots about in the earth with
his snout like a shovel; -pi is a syllable used to form augmentatives,
as -so indicates a diminutive. Bisar, to hold a judicial inquiry,
is Assamese. Hèmphu, "owner," the God Mikirs belong to. Vo-arbipi,
"a small bird, the size of a sparrow" (not the sparrow itself,
which in Mikir is vo-puru). Ne chopàn-vèk, "I was grazing"; chopàn
is used of feeding for animals only; vèk (or vèk-vèk) is a particle
indicating continuance. Mamàtsi is used of some sudden and unpleasant
interruption: klèm-vèk-vèk mamàtsi thi-lo, "he died suddenly as he
was working"; ne àn cho-vèk mamàtsi ne chòk-dèt, "he beat me while
I was eating." Notice, finally, nòn, the particle most often used to
indicate a strong imperative, here in its original sense of "now"; in
this meaning it is usually emphasised by adding ke or le, nònke, nònle.




II.

JÀNGRESO   PÈN A-ÒNG-ATUM ATOMO.
THE ORPHAN AND HIS UNCLES ' STORY.


Hako           inut ahèm-epi asopo inut-pèt do;  la
Once on a time one  widow    a son only one had; she

achèkle-mar                 kòrte    bàng-theròk do.  Ànsi arni-si
(woman's) brothers (plural) brothers persons-six had. Now  one day

arni-kàngsàm                     a-òngmar-atum       vàng-si
in the cool of the day (evening) his maternal uncles having come

jàngreso-aphàn      nàng-hànglo-- "Osá!    ru        cho-du-dàm-nàng."
the orphan (accus.) called-to--   "Nephew! fish-trap set up-go-let-us."

Ànsi jàngreso-ta dun-lo.         Ànsi aòng-mar
So   the orphan  went with them. Then his uncles,

kòrte bàng-theròk-ke      làng-thàk-si pàt   me-sèn-si         ru
the brothers persons-six, up-stream    a dam having well built the trap

du-lo.  Jàngreso-ke a-òngmar-atum a-ru-pàt   a-ber-si arlòng
set up. The orphan  his uncles    ' trap-dam below    stones

du-i          phàng-o-phàng-a-si      ru   du-lo,  ànsi hèm
having set up carelessly, disorderly, trap set up, and  home

nàng-che-voi-lo. Ànsi latum adàp           ru
returned.        Then they  in the morning the trap-their

che-vàt-dàm-lo.  A-òngmar-atum a-ru-pàt   àn      kepàt-peme-ta,
went to inspect. His uncles    ' trap-dam so very well-built though,

chikung-chikàng-ta che-var-thòt-the;              jàngreso a-ru
one cray-fish even had not thrown itself into it; the orphan's trap

puke,   òk   kejàng            a-ru     tèngsèt.       Ànsi
as for, fish holding, entering his trap was quite full Then

a-òngmar-atum pulo-- "Osá!    netum dàk  ru   pàt-po,     nàngli-ke
his uncles    said-- "Nephew! we    here trap will build, do you

làng-ber-le pàt-dàm-thu-nòn."           Ànsi jàngreso     a-ru-pàt
down-stream go and set your dam again." So   the orphan's trap-dam (in)

a-òng-mar-atum a-ru       du-si,         jàngreso-ke làngbersi
his uncles     their trap having set up, the orphan  down stream

pàt-dàm-thu-lo;      bònta òk       kejàng  lapu-thàk-thàk,
again built his dam; but   the fish holding just that same way,

a-òngmar-atum a-ru-ke òk-ejòn-nàt-ta       jàng-thòt-the, jàngreso
the uncles    ' trap  one single fish even did not hold,  the orphan's

a-ru-ke òk   kejàng  plèngsèt-plèngsèt. Ànsi adàp-vàng-ta  jàngreso
trap    fish holding was quite full.    So   morning-every the orphan's

a-ru-pàt a-òng-atum che-rai-ver-lo.                  Lasi
trap-dam his uncles took for themselves continually. Therefore

adàp-vàng     alòng   kaprèk         ru-pàt      selèt-òng-si,
every morning a place different (in) trap-set-up becoming very weary,

adàp-isi-ke ru       du-tekàng-ke-dètsi,    bàp   a-phàng-athàk bi
morning one the trap not setting up at all, grass clump upon    placing

tekàng-kòk. Ànsi adàp    le-lo,   a-òngmar-atum vàng-si
he left it. So   morning arrived, his uncles    having come

jàngreso-aphàn nàng-hàng-lo: "Osá,
to the orphan  called out:   "Nephew!

ru chevàt-dàm-le-lo-nàng."            Ànsi jàngreso   pulo: "Neli-ke
our traps let us go again and visit." Then the orphan said: "As for me,

ru-ta  du-tekàng-ke;           da    bònta,        nànglitum-ari
a trap I have not even set up; come, nevertheless, (as) your companion

nàng-dun-ji,"        pusi dun-lo.                 Ànsi a-ru
I will go with you," so saying he went with them. Then his trap

che-làng-dàmlo.     Vo-thung      lut-thòt       thèk-dàm-lo. Ànsi
he went to look at. A wood-pigeon having entered he found.    So

labàngso a-vo-thung  ari             chekòksi       hèm  che-vàn-lo.
that     wood pigeon his cord (with) having tied up home he bought.


Labàngso a-jàngreso chainòng-aso-ta        e-jòn do,     la kàngtu
That     orphan     a cow's child (a calf) also one had, it fat

puke     matha-thèk-the jadi-thèk-the,      nei-bòt àn-pin.        Ànke
so very, as could not be imagined (doublet) very sleek so greatly. Now

a-òngmar-atum làng-un-e-si                           labàngso
his uncles    to look at-being unable (through envy) that

a-chainòng-aso thu-pèt-lo.        Ànsi jàngreso   labàngso
calf           killed (entirely). Then the orphan that

a-chainòng-aso a-rèng lumsi             akèng-ehòng ha
calf's         skin   having taken off, leg one     to a distance

bamòn     kiri-po    a-hèm      pòn-si  patu-dàm-joi-lo. Ànsi
a brahman rich-big's house (to) taking, hid it quietly.  Then

jàngreso:          "Mai! hèm-ta    chainòng-a-òk    angnim-hai-òng-he!"
the orphan (said): "Oh!  the house cow's flesh (of) smells strongly!"

Ànke bamòn-po         aningthi-si     pulo: "Tèke nàng-kòrdut-pi a-osó!
Then the big brahman, becoming angry, said: "Tiger-bitten boy!

konàt achainòng-a-òksi dàk-le ke-do-ji?  Ne-ke bamòn-le.     Nàng
where cow's flesh      here   should be? I     am a brahman. You

peklàng        thèk-ser-ma-si:  thèkthe-le     nàng-pràn
produce, show, must be able to: you cannot-if, your life

nàng-èn-ji."       Ànsi jàngreso   pulo-- "Dei,       tàngte ne
I will take here." Then the orphan said-- "Very well, then   I

ri-po,"       pu-si  ri-lo.       Ri-phàng-o-phàng-a-si, alàng
will search," saying he searched: searching carelessly,  he

kapatu-alòng      dàm-si chainòng-aso a-kèng vung-dàm-phlut
hiding-place (to) going  the calf's   leg    pull out suddenly

inghoi-lo: "Làng-nòn, chainòng a-òk  do,"       pu--     "ne
did:       "See-now,  cow's    flesh there is," saying-- "I

nàng pu-lo-he!" Ànsi bamòn po--        "Bàng-kaprèk-atum
told you so!"   Then the big brahman-- "people other (plur.)

vàng-thèk-dun-te,     ne-jàt   virdèt-ji"         pu,     phere-si
come-see-together-if, my-caste will be destroyed" saying, fearing

jàngreso-aphàn pulo: "Jàngreso, po-arnàm-po! pàk-tà  thàn-ri-nòn! dohòn
the orphan-to  said: "Orphan,   my good sir! any one do not tell! money

màntung-isi      nàng pi-po"--      pusi   dohòn màntung-isi  pilo. Ànsi
a cloth-full-one you  I will give," saying money a cloth-full gave. Then

jàngreso   labàngso adohòn pòn-si          hèm  che-voi-lo. Hèm
the orphan that     money  taking with him home returned.   House

che-le-lo,      ànsi a-pei           che-pu-lo: "ne-òng-atum a-tòn
his he arrived, and  his mother (to) said:      "my uncles'  basket

hàng-dàm-tha." Ànsi a-pei      dàm-si hàng-dàm-lo:  "Ik-mar-li! nàngli
go-ask-for."   So   his mother going  asked for it: "Brothers!  your

osá    kipu, 'tòn tàngho.'"     Ànsi tòn nàng-lo-lo.     Ànsi
nephew says, 'a basket I want'" So   a basket they sent. Then

hèm-epi     a-ik-mar-atum tòn pisi
the widow's brothers      the basket having given

che-pu-lo--             "Tòn        pi   kànghoi-i-ji-ne?
said among themselves-- "The basket what is to do with?

làng-dun-tòn-tha--     pusi   akibi-abàng        toi-dun-lo; ànsi la
go and peep (imper.)-- saying their youngest one they sent   and  he

nàng-làng-dun-tòn-lo,   ànke hotòn-pèn       dohòn ketèng
there went and watched, and  the basket-with money measuring

nàng-thèk-dun-lo. Ànsi nàng-kelàng-dun-tòn-abàng            hèm
there he saw.     Then there-the-one-who-had-watched-person house

che-voi-si,             a-ik-mar     thàn-dàm-lo-- "La   e-osá
his having returned to, his brothers informed--    "That our-nephew

konàt-tòng kelòng-dàm-lo-ne?            hotòn-pèn     dohòn ketèng
wherever   get-did he (all this money)? with a basket money measure

chinàm sai-se."    Ànsi dohòn     tèng-tàng-dèt             jàngreso
really he has to." So   the money measuring-finished-having the orphans

a-pei-ta tòn        thòn-dàm-lo, ànke achèkle-mar  nàng-pu-dun-lo
mother   the basket returned,    and  her brothers there said to her

"Osá    nàng-toi-tha." Ànsi hèm-epi   hèm  nàng-che-le-si
"Nephew here send."    So   the widow home having arrived

asopo-aphàn che-pulo-- "Nàng òng-atum kipu 'Vàng-tha-tu tàngho
her son to said--      "Your uncles say    'Come here, we want you,

po.'"     Ànsi jàngreso-ta dàmlo. Ànke a-òng-atum nàng  arju-lo-- "Konàt
father.'" So   the orphan  went.  And  his uncles there asked--   "Where

adohòn-si      nàngli kelòng-dàm?" Ànsi jàngreso   pulo:
all this money you    obtained?"   And  the orphan said:

"Chainòng-a-òk    a-nàm:         nàngli-tum-ne-kithu-pi-pèt  a-chainòng
"Cow's flesh (of) price (it is): (by) you my killed-entirely cow's

a-òk-si neli kejòr-dàm;   chetàngte                chehàng-jo
flesh   I went a-selling; it not being sufficient, together they asked

'àn-pin làng?'"           Ànsi aòng-mar   arju-thu-le-lo: "Tàngte
'is there only so much?'" Then his uncles asked again:    "Then

chainòng-a-òk jòr-dàm-te            la-tum ènji-làng-ma?"      Ànsi
cow's flesh   go a-selling if (we), they   will taking-go on?" And

jàngreso   pulo-- "En-ji làng-te;                    nàngli-tum-ke
the orphan said-- "They will go on taking certainly; you

chainòng-do-o-para        lale thu-koi-ra            a-òk
cows having many because, therefore killing them all their flesh

jòr-dàm-te,       ko-ànsi  dohòn kevàn-ji?"       Ànsi a-òngmar
if you go selling how much money you will bring?" So   his uncles

kòrte-bang-theròk abàng-phu ejòn chainòng thu-si         a-òk      bahar
brothers the six  each one  one  cow      having killed, its flesh load

pòn-si        jòr-dàm-lo,      ànsi jàngreso   thàn-dun-lo--
having taken, went to sell it, and  the orphan explained to them--

"Nàngli-tum hala           bamòn   kiri-po    a-ròng-le  jòr-dàm-nòn:
"You        that (distant) brahman rich-big's village in go and sell:

la-ròng                le-lo-te    'chainòng a-òk
that village (at) when you arrive, 'cow's flesh

èn-ji-làng-ma'                pu-ra  arju-nòn." Ànsi latum
will (any one) go on taking?' saying ask."      So   these

kòrte-bàng-theròk chainòng a-òk  pònsi dàmlo, ha   bamòn-aròng
brothers six      cow's    flesh taking went, that Brahman's village

le-si,          "Chainòng-a-òk èn-ji làng ma?"            pu
having arrived, "Cow's flesh   will (any one) take more?" saying

arju-lo. Ànsi "èn-ji-làng,        vàn-nòn,"       pu
asked.   And  "we will take more, bring it here," saying

nàng-hàng-lo.    Ànsi bamòn-po          a-hèm le-lo.        Ànsi
they called out. So   the big brahman's house they reached. Then

bamòn-po          ròng-isi      asàngho
the big brahman's village-whole inhabitants,

che-pàngrum-pèt-si,            la    chainòng-a-òk
having collected all together, those cow's flesh

kejòr-dàm-atum           kòrte bàng-theròk,  nèp-si,        a-ri
bringing to sell-people, the   six brothers, having seized, their hands

kòk-krei-si,        jasemèt  chòk-si        pulo: "Netum bamòn-le:
tied firmly having, severely having beaten, said: "We    brahmans are:

'chainòng-aòk èn-ji ma?'          pu      nàng
'cow's flesh  will any one take?' saying, you

nàng-katirva-hai?"             pu-si  lo-lo.       La    chainòng-a-òk
here-solicit a customer dare?" saying let them go. These cow's-flesh

kevàn-atum-ta    hèm  che-voi-lo,     ànsi tovar
bringing persons home their own went, and  on the way

chingvai-pòn-lo:       "Mai! àn-le alàng   jangreso e-kechobei!
took counsel together: "Oh!  how much that orphan   us has cheated!

e-chainòng e-haidi   e-pa-chi-thu-koi-làng;        aphu-thàk-ta
our cattle (doublet) he has caused us to kill all; over and above that

e-rèng e-hu        e-ka-peso.                    Apòt-ke
our skin (doublet) to us he has caused to smart. Therefore

kele-pèn                a-hèm     me-kei-dàm-po-nàng."    Ànsi hèm
immediately on arriving his house fire-set-to let-us-go." So   home

che-le-lo     ànke jàng-reso    a-hèm me-kei-dàm-dut inghoi-lo. Ànsi
they arrived, and  the orphan's house fire-setting   did.       Then

jàngreso   atum        hini          chibu-si hèm me-kecho
the orphan baskets-two having woven, house-fire-eaten, devoured (of)

aphelo hum-si           bahar  pòn-lo, ànsi ha             mèk-keso
ashes  having collected a load took,   and  that (distant) sore-eyed

aròng              le-lo.   Labàngso aròng        arlèng
(people's) village went to. That     village (of) men,

abàng-phu-ta      amèk-keso-abàng àngse.     Ànke phelo      a-bahar-pèn
each one of them, sore-eyed folk  were only. So   ashes (of) a load-with

jàngreso   latum nàng-thèksi nàng-arju-lo--      "Nàng kopi
the orphan they having seen, called out to him-- "Thou what for

kevàng ladak?"       Jàngreso   thàk-dèt-- "Ai  nàngtum aròng
comest thou hither?" The orphan answered-- "Oh! your    village

mèk-keso  a-vur   do-tàng-pu                 arju-lòngsi         ne
sore eyes disease has finished getting, thus having got to hear, I

mèk-keso               a-bàp    nàng-kejòr."      Ànsi latum pulo--
(for) sore-eyed people medicine here am selling." Then they  said--

"Ai! tàngte      me-òng-chòt-lo,      po-arnàm-po!" pusi
"Oh! then (that) is very good indeed, my good sir!" so saying

ròng-isi          asàngho     dohòn chi-rung-si       dohòn-bahar-isi
the whole village inhabitants money having collected, of money load one

jàngreso      nàng-pilo.  Ànsi jàngreso   pulo: "Labàngso a-bàp
to the orphan there-gave. Then the orphan said: "That     medicine

nònke       chi-hi-ri-tha:                    mo         ne tovar
immediately do not apply (rub) to yourselves: afterwards I  the road

ebèng   lelo-te,        'chi-hi-nòn'     pu     ne nàng-pupo,
a piece have gone when, 'apply (rub) it' saying I  will tell you,

àn-le                 chi-hi-nòn." Ànsi dohòn-bahar-isi phelo      a-nàm
then (and not before) apply it."   Then money-load-one  ashes (of) price

jàngreso   lòng-si,    hèm  chevoilo.        Ànke la tovar me
the orphan having got, home to his returned. When he road  a little

nàng-le-lo, mèk-a-vur-kelòng-atum          jàngreso-aphàn
had gone    eye disease who had got people The orphan-to

'chi-hi-nòn-tu-ma?'      pu hàng-lo.        Jàngreso   nàng-thàk-dèt
"shall we apply it now?" saying called out. The orphan answered

"tha";  tebòk-hèt tik-ke      "tha"  pu-bòm-si                la
"wait"; near      so long as, "wait" saying having continued, he

ha heloving   le-lo;   ànke "nàng-pho-dun-un-e-lo"         pu
to a distance arrived; and  "here reach to me they cannot" saying

matha-lo,   "bàp chi-hi-nòn"          pu      jàngreso
he thought, "the medicine rub in now" saying, the orphan

nàng-hàng-lo.     Ànsi mèk-keso-atum
there called out. Then eyes the sufferers from pain

jàngreso-kevàn-aphelo a-mèk         che-hi-lo. La   bàp
orphan-brought-ashes  on their eyes rubbed.    That medicine

kachi-hi-pèn-apara,   amèk       ki-kru  puke     matha-thèk-the
applying from at once their eyes smarted so much, it cannot be imagined

jadi thèk-the: amèk       keso tàn-muchòt che-plàng-lo. Ànsi latum
(doublet):     their eyes sore more much  became.       Then they

chipulo:             "Mai! àn-le   alàng e-ke-chobei       tekàng:   la
said to one another: "Oh!  so much he    us having cheated has left: he

vàng-thu-lo-te, a-ri kòk-dòng-ra     chòk-nàng."       Jàngreso-ke hem
comes-again-if, his hands tying fast let us beat him." The orphan  home

che-le-si   apei-aphàn    "ne-òng-atum ahotòn èn-dàm-le-tha"  pu
having come his mother-to "my uncles'  basket take-go-again," saying

toi-le-lo.     Ànsi hèm-epi   a-ikmar-atum  a-hèm hotòn
he sent again. Then the widow her brothers' house basket

hàng-dàm-le-lo.    Ànsi hotòn      nàng-lo-si  latum kòrte-bàng-theròk
to ask-went again. Then the basket having sent they  brothers six said

chi-pu-le-lo--           "Da, akibi,    làng-dun-le-tha;
again among themselves-- "Go, youngest, watch again;

hotòn             pi-tòng           kànghoi-i-ji-ne?"   Ànsi
(with) the basket what in the world is he going to do?" Then

akibi-abàng  nàng-làng-dun-tòn-le-lo.            Jàngreso   dohòn
the youngest went there to watch secretly again. The orphan the money

ketèng    nàng-thèk-dun-le-lo. Ànke nàng-kelàng-dun-tòn     abàng  hèm
measuring there he saw again.  Then there watching-secretly person home

che-voi-si à-ikmar           che-thàn-dàm-le-lo--        "E-osa
returning  his brothers (to) explained, related, again-- "Our nephew

chu-aphàn-te   nòn dohòn kevàn òng-muchòt le-lo."         Ànke latum
than last time now money bringing much more has arrived." Then they

kòrte-bàng-theròk jàngreso-alòng  dàm-si arju-dàm-lo--"Konàt
the six brothers  the orphan-near going  asked--"Where

adohòn-si        nàngli lòng-dam-o-lo?"         Ànsi jàngreso
(all) this money you    have got so much more?" Then the orphan

nàng-thàk-dun-lo--    "Nàngli-tum-me-ne kekei-pidut a-hem     a-phelo
there answered them-- "(By) you fire my applied having house, its ashes

a-nàm.         Neli phelo kejòr-dàm-alòng    'kedòr-de'         pu
price (it is). I    ashes selling-place (in) 'it is not enough' saying

hàng-jo:    'àn-pin       vàn-thu-tha' pusi   pu.        Ne-li hèm-ke
they cried: 'just so much bring again' saying they said. My    house

bihèk-si,    a-phelo   òng-e-dèt;     nàngli-tum ahèm-ke
being small, its ashes not much were; Your       houses,

the-dung-para,        lale      me   kei-ra   a-phelo   jòr-dàm-te,
since they are large, therefore fire applying the ashes go selling-if,

dohòn-le nàngli-tum ko-ànsi  kevàn-ji?    Kevàn-si    nàngli-tum
wealth   ye         how much would bring? To bring it you

un-e."            Ànsi a-òngmar   kòrte-bàng-theròk
would be unable." Then his uncles the six brethren

chi-pulo:              "Tàngte itum-ta     e-hèm  me
said among themselves: "Then   to our also houses fire

chekei-dàm-po-nàng."       Ànke hèm    me   chekei-dàm-si,
having applied let us go." Then houses fire their having-set-to,

hèm a-phelo hum-si           kòrte        abàng-phu-ta
house-ashes having gathered, the brothers each individually

bahar-un-tik bahar-un-tik pòn-lo. Ànsi jàngreso
as much as he could carry took.   Then the orphan

thàn-dun-le-lo:          "Ha mèk-keso-aròng-le           pòn-nòn;
explained to them again: "To that eye-sore-village up to take, carry;

ha ròng-a-kung            le-lo-te,        'Phelo èn-ji-ma?'
that distant village near when you arrive, 'Ashes will you take?'

pura-punòn." Ànsi latum kòrte-bàng-theròk dàmlo. Hà   mèk-keso-atum
saying say." So   they  brothers six      went.  That sore eyed people's

aròng   pàng-le-lo,   ànsi arju-lo--"Phelo èn-ji-ma?"      Ànsi
village near arrived, and  asked--"Ashes   will you take?" Then

mèk-keso-àtum             "Vàn-tha"       pu nàng-hàng-lo;   ànsi latum
the people with sore eyes "Bring it here" saying called out; then they

dàm-si ròng        le-lo;   kele-pèn                 ari
going  the village arrived; immediately they arrived their hands

kòk-krei-inghoi-si,           la    alàng-tum-kepòn-aphelo-pèn
tying each, all, having done, those by-them-brought ashes-with

amèk       hi-si         jasemèt  chòklo;         ànke
their eyes having rubbed severely they beat them; then

chòk-thèng-dèt,                  latum kòrte-bàng-theròk hèm
having been beaten and pummeled, those brothers six      home

nàng-chevoilo. Ànke tovar         nàng-chèngvai-thu-le-lo--       "Mai!
returned.      Then (on) the road they consulted together again-- "Oh!

àn-le   alàng e-kechobei-ra     e-rèng    e-kapeso,
so much he    us-having-cheated our skins he has caused to smart,

aphu-thàk-ta        e-hèm      i-rit
over and above that our houses our fields

e-pa-che-kei-koi;                            nònke kele-pèn
us he has caused to set fire to and burn up; now   immediately we arrive

ingchin-aru         bèng-ra               làng
iron-of a cage (in) having firmly secured (him) water (into)

jòk-thòt-lo-nang." Ànke kele-pèn            jàngreso   nèp-chèk
let us throw him." So   at once on arriving the orphan seizing

ingchin-aru-pèn   bèng-chèk     inghoi-lo, ànsi habit         làng-bi
of iron-a cage-in firmly secure they did,  and  in the jungle a pool

akethe-pi         a-kung      bi-dàm-kòk-lo.
very great (deep) on the bank putting down they placed.

"Mo-le                làng       nim-po-nàng;      nònke kàt-athai
"After a little while water (in) let us drown him; now   run away-power

ave-lo;     apòtke    àn   che-cho-dàm-si-nàng" pusi,
he has not; therefore rice our-eat-go-let-us"   saying,

àn che-cho-dàm-lo.           Ànke a-òngmar   àn
rice-their they went to eat. Then his uncles their rice

checho-dàm-aphi,       konane            recho-asopo òk   nàng-kehung
had gone to eat after, some one or other King's son  deer there-hunting

vàng-lo, ànsi jàngreso   a-dung nàng-le-si,     jàngreso-aphàn
came,    and  the orphan near   having arrived, the orphan (accus.)

arju-lo "Kopi apòtsi        ingchin-aru-arlo
asked   "What on account of iron-cage-inside

nàng-kebèng-chèk-lo?"         Ànsi jàngreso   pulo: "Ne-òng-mar-atum
you are here firmly secured?" Then the orphan said: "My maternal uncles

asopi       keme pu   matha-thèk-the        àn-pin     do.   Lasi
a daughter, how fair! as one cannot imagine so greatly have. Her

'èn-tu'        pu     ne-phàn ne-kipu,     bònta ne-ke 'èn-e'
'take to wife' saying to me   me they say, but   I     'will not take'

pu     kipusi,   ne-òng-mar-atum aning-kithì-si      ru
saying replying, my uncles       becoming very angry cage (in)

ne-kebèng-chèk-lo."   Ànsi recho-asopo    pulo--"Che! tàngte ne
me have fastened up." Then the King's son said--"Oh!  then   I

èn-lòng-ji-ma?"                      "La   ru-arlo-le nàng
(her) take (to wife) shall be able?" "This cage into  you

nàng-do-te,     èn-lòng-ji-te"               pu     jàngreso   pulo:
here-get-in-if, you will be able to get her" saying the orphan said:

"elòm-te           ne-òng-atum vàng-po,  ànke--
"in a little while my uncles   will come and--

'Ànhelo-ma?'                pu     nàng arju-lo-te, 'ànhelo,
'Have you anything to say?' saying you if they ask, 'all right,

èn-po,           òngmar-li'--pura punòn." "To,  tàngte," pu
I will take her, uncles'--saying reply."  "Yes, then,"   saying

recho-asopo    pulo. Ànsi jàngreso   recho-asopo-aphàn pulo--"La
the King's son said. Then the orphan the King's son-to said--"That

nàng-pe   nàng-ri-pèn     mamàtle  nàng ru-arlo   nàng-lut-lo-te, nàng
your coat your dhoti-with bedecked you  cage-into here enter-if,  you

chini-dèt-po;                apòtke    ne ingpu-nòn: ne-pe   ne-ri
they will recognize at once; therefore me let out:   my coat my dhoti

nàng pipo,        ànke ru-arlo   lut-nòn." Ànsi recho-asopo    ru
you  I will give, then cage-into enter."   So   the King's son the cage

ingpu-si      jàngreso   nàng-bar-lo,    ànsi jàngreso   a-pe
having opened the orphan there came out, and  the orphan his coat

a-ri      recho-asopo       pilo, la   recho-asopo a-pe,     a-ri,
his dhoti to the king's son gave, that King's son  his coat, his dhoti,

a-lèk,        a-roi,         jàngreso      pi-thu-lo,        ànke
his necklace, his bracelets, to the orphan gave in exchange, and

recho-asopo    ru-arlo       lut-lo,  ànsi jàngreso
the King's son into the cage entered, and  the orphan

ingkir-dun-thip-lo. Ànsi jàngreso-ta recho-asopo      a-pe,    a-ri,
the door made fast. Then the orphan  the King's son's clothes, dhoti,

a-lèk,    a-roi      che-pindèng,   ahormu     kedo-àn chepindèng-si,
necklace, bracelets, having put on, his things all     having put on,

ha   ahèm         che-dàm-lo. Ànsi jàngreso     a-òngmar-ta àn
away to his house went.       And  the orphan's uncles also rice

cho-dàm-pèn nàng-che-voi-lo, ru-alòng      nàng-le-lo,   ànsi arju-lo--
eating-from there returned,  at the cage's place arrived and  asked--

"àn-helo-ma                osá?"    "Ànhelo,    òngmarli, èn-po"
"have you anything to say, nephew?" "All right, uncles,   I will take,"

pu     jàngreso-kethàn-kàng-asòn-thòt          recho-asopo    pulo. Ànsi
saying the orphan (by) instructed according to the King's son said. Then

ingchin-aru-pèn    làngbi           var-chui inghoilo.
the iron cage-with deep pool (into) throw into water (him) they did.

Ànke jàngreso-a-òngmar   kòrte-bàng-theròk chi-pu-lo--
Then the orphan's uncles brothers six      said one to the other--

"Àn      alàng i-duk      e-kànghoi  a-pòt,         nòn ànke    alàng
"So much he    us-trouble us-causing on account of, now however he

thi-lo";  ànsi hèm  che-voi-lo.    Ànke jàngreso   puke--   kithi-ji
is dead"; and  home they returned. Then the orphan as for-- dead

kali,       recho-asopo      a-pe, a-ri,  a-lèk,    a-roi
not at all, the King's son's coat, dhoti, necklace, bracelets

che-pindèng    mesèn       kemàt   matha-thèk-the jadi-thèk-the-dèt
having put on, beautifully adorned inconceivably, unimaginably,

thèk-dàm-thu-le-lo!        Ànsi latum chi-pu-le-lo--
they saw again on arrival! Then they  said among themselves again--

"Jàngreso   thi-lòt-lo  kali!   Ha-la-le,
"The orphan is not dead at all! There he is,

kemàt-lèp-ra ka-pàng-elim-ke."        Ànke a-dung   le-lo,
adorned and strutting in his finery." Then near him they went,

jàngreso-aphàn      arju-thu-lelo-- "Osá!    nàmtu-si nàngli
the orphan (accus.) asked-again--   "Nephew! how      you

nàng-kele-tòng-ròk?"   Ànsi jàngreso   thàk-lelo-- "Che, òngmarli,
here arrived so soon?" Then the orphan answered--  "Oh,  uncles,

ne-phi-ne-phu-atum               dola-pèn-si      ne
my grandmothers and grandfathers a palanquin-with me

nàng-kapethòn-dun-kòk-le;        hali  ne-li
here-caused to be escorted back; there I

le-ròk-pèn-apara                  ne-phi-ne-phu-atum
from the first moment of arriving my grandmothers and grandfathers

pe-keme,   ri-keme,    lèk      roi       ne-kepi: la   làng-nòn!
coat-good, dhoti-good, necklace bracelets me gave: them look at!

Nànglitum-aphàn-ta pevàng-tu-po-nàng
You-to also        cause-to-come it is necessary

kepha-dun-par:           asin   nàng-kelo,      la ser a-tari-lòn,
they sent word urgently: a sign they have sent, this gold-of knife,

làng-tha!"   pu        pe-klàng-lo.          Ànsi a-òngmar   pulo--
look at it!" so saying he showed it to them. Then his uncles said--

"Kopusi nelitum kedàm-thèk-po?"    "Ingchin arú
"How    we      go shall be able?" "Iron    cage

abàng-phu-isi                          che-pòn-ra         ha
person-head-one (i.e. each one of you) taking for himself that

làng-kung       lut-dàm-ik-nòn"         pu     jàngreso   pulo. Ànsi
river bank (to) get into it, good sirs" saying the orphan said. So

latum ingchin-aru che-pòn-si   ha   làng-kung       lut-dàm-lo.    Ànsi
they  iron cages  having taken that river-bank (to) got into them. Then

jàngreso   ingchin aru         rakdun-hèt-ràkdunhèt-lo.    Ànsi
the orphan (in the) iron cages tightly tied up (each one). Then

jàngreso   aklèng-si-abàng ingchin-aru-pèn    làngbi
the orphan the eldest one  with the iron cage deep pool (into)

var-dàm-chui inghoilo. Ànke-phòng làng-abuk-buruk
throw did.             So then    water-bubbles

vàng-jàm-cheplàng-lo;     ànke jàngreso   pu-le-lo!   "Ja!    òngmarli,
coming up many-continued; then the orphan said again! "There! uncles,

làng-tha! ne-òng-a-klèng-ke la  ne-phi         ne-phu         hòr
look!     my uncle eldest   him my grandmother my grandfather beer

kipi-si      hòr  kàngri-si    ka-chèng-òk-lo." Ànsi adàk-vàn-ta
having given beer having drunk is vomiting."    Then the next one also

làng-var-lo.             Ànke kòrte-bàng-theròk-ta
he threw into the water. Then the brothers six

làng-var-klip-si                 jàngreso   hèm  nàng-che-voi-lo. Ànsi
having all thrown into the river the orphan home returned.        Then

jàngreso-aphàn      a-ni-mar-atum             nàng-arju-lo-- "Nàngli
the orphan (accus.) his aunts (uncles' wives) there asked--  "Your

òng-atum nàmtusi vàng-ji?"        "Tòng-tòng vàng-ve:            àn
uncles   when    will they come?" "Quickly   they will not come: so long

kachepho-phe apòtsi,                   nòn kachepho-le-ma?"
not having met together on account of, now have they not met at last?"

pu     jàngreso   pulo. Ànsi jo-thòm      jo-phili    do-si
saying the orphan said. Then nights-three nights-four having waited

ako   a-ni-mar  jàngreso-aphàn      nàng-arju-thu-le-lo-- "Nàngli
again his aunts the orphan (accus.) asked again there--   "Your

òng-atum pi-apòt  vàng-ve-rèk-ma?"             Ànsi jàngreso
uncles   what for have not come by this time?" Then the orphan

thàk-lo--  "Vàng-dàp-pràng-po."                Ànsi jo-ni
answered-- "They will come to-morrow morning." Then nights-two

jo-thòm      dosi          latum jàngreso-aphàn
nights-three having waited they  the orphan (accus.)

arju-dàm-thu-le-lo-- "Nàngli òng-atum kopi-apòtsi     nòn-pu-ta
asked again--        "Your   uncles   for what reason up to now

vàng-ve-dèt-ma?" Ànsi jàngreso   thàn-lo--   "Nòksèk-le     àn
have not come?"  Then the orphan explained-- "In the nòksèk rice

dèng-pi-ik-krei-nòn."         Ànsi jàngreso     a-ni-mar-atum
set on (honorific) for each." Then the orphan's aunts

"thi-koi-lo!"           pu     chini-si,          chirulo, chernàp-lo,
"they are really dead!" saying having recognized, wept,    lamented,

mòn-duk-lo, mòn-sa-lo.      Ànsi jàngreso   plànglo-philo, pàk-ta
and were plunged in sorrow. So   the orphan became rich,   any one

làng-un-e-abàng      ave-lo.        Ànsi jàngreso   recho kethe
to look on with envy there was not. So   the orphan king  great

chosi     rèng-me-rèng-dòk-lo.
becoming, lived a happy and pleasant life.




NOTES.

Here we have a narrative of a more complex character than that of the
first story, with a richer vocabulary, and abounding in the descriptive
adverbial particles which are the main feature of the language.

Jàngre, orphan: so is a diminutive particle. Jàngre indicates that
one parent is dead; jàngrèng is used when neither survives.

Inut, a loan-word from the Khasi ngut, used for the enumeration of
persons: in Mikir initial ng is inadmissible.

Hèm-epi, widow, literally, "sole mistress of the house" (hèm); the
syllable e is perhaps a thinning down of a; pi is the feminine affix,
here of dignity.

Achèklè, brother, used only by a woman speaking of her brothers; ik is
used by both sexes; mar, collective particle, used to form plurals:
often atum is added; kòrte, brother; both kòr and te separately may
be used for either brother or sister; bàng, the class-word used for
human beings before numerals.

Do, a verb meaning to stay, dwell, exist; specially, it has the
meaning "to live with as a wife," and is the correlative of èn,
"to take (to wife)."

Arni-kàngsàm, "day-becoming-cool-time," the late afternoon. As is
natural where there are no clocks, the divisions of the day are
marked by other means than the count of hours. Arni is a day (or
sun), regarded without reference to the lapse of time = French jour;
anerlo is a day's space = journée. Similarly, ajo is a night, jirlo
a night's space. The first indication of coming day is vo-khu e-the,
"first cock-crow"; then follows vo-khu the-ni, "second cock-crow,"
and vo-khu the-thòm, "third cock-crow"; then the-àng prinpre-le,
"just before dawn"; then adàp kàng-thàng, dawn (adàp, general word for
morning); then nerlo-chitim, "day-middle," noon; then arni the-lelo,
"the sun at its height"; then arni-kàngsàm, "the sun becoming cool,"
afternoon; then ingting lim-rim, or ingting-rim, dusk. Then begins
ajo, night, when the evening meal is taken, after which soon comes
the first sleep, àn-cho mèk-bur, "rice-having-eaten eye-close";
then jirlo chitim, midnight.

Nàng-, a particle used, prefixed to verbs, to give vividness, is
really the pronoun of the 2nd person singular, emphasis being given
by referring the verb to the person addressed. Nàng at the end of
the phrase is the verb of necessity = must; it often means "let us
do this or that."

Pàt, as a noun, is a stone dam or fence, put across a stream with
an opening in the middle in which the bamboo cage or fish-trap, ru,
is placed; as a verb, it means to build such a dam or fence; du means
to place a thing so that it will catch or intercept something else.

Làng, water, stream: làng-thàk up-stream, lang-ber down-stream.

Che- prefixed to verbs gives them a reflexive meaning, and indicates
that the action relates to the subject; hèm che-voi-lo, "he went
home, to his own house"; che-pu-lo, "they said to one another";
ru che-vàt-dàm-lo, "they went to inspect their own fish-trap."

Chikung, a cray-fish; chikàng is an imitative sequent; similarly
phàng-o, carelessly, is followed by phàng-a.

Jàng, as a verb, means to fill up, or, of the containing vessel, to
hold--òk-kejang a-ru, "fish-to-hold-trap." Notice that òk means both
fish and flesh; alone, it has usually the former meaning, or that
of game, animals hunted; when joined to the name of an animal, the
latter: chainòng-a-òk, beef; phàk-a-òk, pork; bi-a-òk, goat's flesh.

Tèng and plèng both mean to be full: sèt is a particle added to
strengthen the verb, taking the place of the tense-affix.

Adàp-vàng, "every morning"; literally, "as (each) morning
came." Che-rai-ver-lo; here che- is the reflexive particle, rai a
verb, to occupy, take up, ver a particle indicating continuance,
lo the tense-affix; the whole therefore means "they kept on taking
up for themselves."

Du-tekàng-ke-dèt-si; du, verb, to place, set; tekàng, a verb, to
leave, depart; ke, negative syllable, reduplicated from last syllable
of tekàng, dèt, particle of past time, si affix of conjunctive
participle; the whole therefore means "not having placed and left,"
"without setting up at all."

Ejòn: jòn is the class word for animals, as bàng is for persons,
used with numerals; e- is the prefix for "one"; the other numerals
follow--phàk jòn-ni, jòn-thòm, two, three pigs.

Matha thèk-the: matha, verb, to think, imagine; thèk, verb, to be
able (also to see); the negative affix: the whole therefore means
"as could not be imagined"; jadi-thèk-the is a doublet of the same
meaning. Àn-pin: àn, particle of quantity; pin up to; also tik;
àn-pin or àn-tik therefore means "to such a degree."

Akèng e-hòng: a its (the calf's), kèng, leg, e-, one (as before), hòng
class-word for enumerating parts of the body; ha, particle indicating
distance; La, this, ha-la, that: la-dàk, here, ha-dàk, there.

Tèke-nàng-kòrdut-pi a-oso: tèke, "tiger"; nàng, particle of vividness,
or, possibly, "you"; kòr, verb, to bite, dut, particle strengthening
the verb and dispensing with tense-affix, pi syllable used in abuse,
a- syllable of relation, osó boy: the substantive being put last
indicates that the verb is to be taken passively: "you tiger-bitten
scoundrel of a boy!" As the Mikirs consider that to be eaten by a
tiger is conclusive evidence of the wickedness of the victim, the
phrase is equivalent to "you wicked wretch of a boy!"

Nàng peklàng thèk-ser ma-si: nàng, "you," klàng, verb, "to see,
observe"; pe-, causative particle, so that peklàng means "to show, to
produce"; thèk, verb, to be able, ser strengthening particle, "fully";
ma, syllable used for direct or indirect questions: doji-ma? "will
you marry me?" Nàng peso èn-tàng-ma? "have you taken a wife?"; then,
for alternatives, do-ji-ma do-de-ma? "will you marry him or not?";
and lastly, as here, "if you are not able to produce--then," etc.;
si, affix of conjunctive participle, properly a locative particle.

Dei, "very good," a loan-word from Khasi. Tàng-te, "then,"--properly
"not having finished"; tàng is the verb meaning to be ended, completed,
te the negative syllable.

Vung-dàm-phlut inghoi-lo. This periphrastic construction, in which
inghoi, to do, is used to strengthen the verb, seems to be borrowed
from Assamese; many examples occur further on.

Po-arnàm-po! a honorific form of address; po, literally, "father,"
but used also of a son (cf. the Hindustani baba) arnàm, God
(Ass. deuta), po, big, honourable. For a girl the corresponding
phrase is pe-arnàm-pi. Dohòn, Assamese dhòn (dhan), wealth, money;
notice that the dh is resolved by the insertion of a vowel; similarly,
further on, bahar occurs for bhar (Ass.), a load; neither dh nor bh
is used in purely Mikir words.

Tòn, hotòn, one of the numerous words for basket. Tàng-ho, a
word used by a messenger to express the wish of him who sent
him to ask for something: not used in other phrases. Tòn pi
kànghoi-i-ji-ne "the basket for the purpose of doing what is?" Pi,
what, kànghoi, infinitive, to do, -i syllable added to indicate
purpose, ji affix of future, ne, particle of enquiry, an Assamese
loan-word. Làng-dun-tòn-tha: làng, verb, to look, dun, verb, to
go with, to be with, tòn, verb, to peep, pry, tha, imperative
particle. Tèng, to measure, with a vessel of known contents;
originally, to fill (see above, tèngsèt = plèngsèt). Konàt-tòng
kelòng-dàm-lo-ne: konàt, where: tòng, a particle expressing
uncertainty: "where on earth did he get it"? Sai-se "in order to";
"he really (chinàm) has to use a basket in order to measure this mass
of money!" Thòn, to return a thing borrowed. Vàng-tha-tu tàng-ho-po:
notice the use of po, father, as a respectful address, by the mother
to her son; so also the uncles address their nephew respectfully with
nàng-li. Nàngli-tum-ne-kithu-pi-pèt achainòng: notice the string
of descriptive words prefixed adjectivally to the noun: this is an
excellent example of the manner in which Mikir deals with what in
English would be a relative sentence--"the cow of mine which you put
to death by cutting her up"; literally, "by-you-my-killed-and-cut-up
cow." Thu, to kill by cutting; pi, here a verb meaning to cut a large
mass (see note to preceding story, p. 94); pèt adverbial supplement
indicating completeness.

Chetàng-te, "It is not enough": che, reflexive particle, tàng,
verb, to complete, finish; te, negative: literally, "it does not
finish our business, it does not do all we want." Che-hàng-jo: hàng,
to call out, summon; che, as before, indicates that they all called
out together; jo is one of the particles used to indicate plurality;
others (which will be found further on) are jàm and krei. Làng,
an auxiliary verb which seems to indicate continuousness, to go on
being or doing. Observe that -te is used to indicate the two parts
of a conditional sentence: chainòng a-òk jòr-dàm-te, èn-ji làng-te
"if we go selling cow's flesh, they will go on taking it." In
chainòng-do-o-para, o is a syllable indicating multitude, perhaps
another form of òng; para is a loan-word from Assamese. Abàng-phu,
"each one"; also abàng-phu-isi (used further on); phu means "head,"
isi "one"; the latter is used in bamòn-po-ròng-isi in the sense of
"the whole," "as one man." A-ri-kòk-krei-si: a-ri "their hands," kòk,
verb, "to tie with a noose," krei, particle of plurality. Katirva,
"to offer for sale," a loan-word from Khasi (tyrwa). E-ke-chobei,
"us he has cheated," e- is the pronoun of the first person plural
including the person addressed. Notice the doublets--echainòng ehaidi
"our cattle," erèng e-hu, "our skins" (hu, "hide, bark of a tree"), and
observe how e- is prefixed to each part of the sentence. Atum chibusi:
tum is here a bamboo basket in which to carry a load on the back; bu,
"to plait or weave." Hèm me-kecho "the house that had been eaten (cho)
by fire (me)"; hum, to pick up, collect. Phelo means both "ashes"
and "cotton." Arju-lòng-si, "having got (lòng) to hear (arju)." Arju
means both "to hear" and "to ask."

Chi-hi-ri-tha, chi reflexive particle; hi, verb, "to rub in";
ri particle for the negative imperative, "do not"; tha, ordinary
imperative affix, which may be dispensed with when the negative
particle is used. Tha! "wait"! loan-word from Assamese. Tàn-mu-chòt:
mu is the comparative particle, "more," chòt is the constant
suffix to mu; tàn, a verb, to be severe, burdensome. Chu-aphàn,
"than last time:" aphàn is the postposition of comparison =
"than." Lòng-dàm-o-lo "have you got so much more": o is, as before,the
particle of multitude. Kedòr-de: dòr, "to suffice, be enough"; de
negative syllable; hàng-jo, "they cried in crowds" (jo, particle of
plurality). Ong-e-dèt; òng "much," particle of quantity; e, negative;
dèt tense-suffix. The-dung "big"; ke-the great, dung particle; on
its addition the ke- is dropped.

Habit, "in the jungle," locative of Assamese habi, forest. It is
noticeable that many, if not most, Assamese nouns borrowed by Mikir
are taken over in the locative case (of which the final t is the
proper ending in Assamese), as here: thus dèt, "country" = Ass. deh;
munit, "man" = Ass., muni; nòrokòt, hell = Ass. nòròk. Konane "some
one or other," Ass. loan-word. Keme-pu "she is so lovely!" me,
"to be fair, beautiful," pu, literally, "saying." Èn-tu: here
èn, "take," has the special sense of "take to wife, marry"
(see what is said of do, ante, p. 95); tu, one of the signs of
the imperative mood, is perhaps borrowed from the Khasi to. Bònta,
"but," perhaps a Khasi loan-word. Àn-helo-ma, a difficult expression
to translate: àn "so much," particle of quantity; helo "far"; ma
particle of questioning; it might be rendered "how are you getting
on?" literally "thus-far-what"? But it is also used in the answer
to the question: àn-helo there seems to mean "all right"--"so far so
good." To-tàngte; to is a Khasi loan-word: in that language it is used
in answer to a question to express assent = "very well." Var-chui,
"to throw into water," "drown": so also nim-chui. It seems possible
that chui here may be an old word for water, corresponding to the
Tibetan chhu. Che-pindèng "having put on himself": pindèng, "to put
on," is an Assamese loan-word. Kithi-ji kali: the use of ji, the
particle of the future, seems anomalous here: possibly the phrase
means "he is not going to die, not looking as if he were going to
die;" kali is the emphatic separate negative. Dola, "a palanquin,"
Ass. loan-word. Ke-pha-dun-par: pha, verb, to send a message: dun,
verb, to be with: par intensive particle, "urgently." Nàngkelo
"they have sent": lo is a verb, "to send a thing," while toi means
"to send a person." Ser, gold; it is remarkable that the Tibetan word
(gser, pronounced ser) is used for this object of culture both in Khasi
(ksiar) and Mikir, and not the Assamese (son, hon); for silver, on the
other hand, the Aryan rup is in general use. Lut-dàm-ik-nòn; lut, verb,
"enter," dàm, verb, "go"; ik, honorific address = "elder brother"
(though he is speaking to his maternal uncles); nòn imperative
particle. Note the doubling of the verb ràk-dun-hèt-lo to indicate
repetition of the action in the case of each person.


Nòksèk-le. The nòksèk (see plan of Mikir house at p. 8) is the
part of the house where the food (àn, cooked rice) is placed as an
offering to the Manes. Dèng, "to place a share, leave a share";
pi "give"; ik honorific (as above); krei particle of multitude =
"for each one." Mòn-duk-lo, Assamese loan-words (mon, mind, heart,
dukh, grief). Làng-un-e-abàng "a person who cannot (un-e) look on
(làng) another (for envy)."




III.

HARATA KUNWAR   ATOMO.
HARATA KUNWAR'S STORY.


Harata Kunwar       kòrte bàng-theròk,
Harata Kunwar (and) his brothers (were) six persons,

akibi-si             Harata Kunwar. Amehàng-kethèk-pèn-apara   thijòk,
the youngest (being) Harata Kunwar. From the time of his birth deer,

phàk-lèng ke-àp,    tiki-ke inghoi-he;           a-ikmar
wild pig  shooting, he never did any field-work; his brothers,

bàng-phòngo-ke    sai-katiki.             Ànsi latum kòrte bàng-phòngo
the five of them, laboured in the fields. Then they, the five brothers,

a-po-pèn bàng-theròk           chingvai-lo:           "Alàng Harata
with their father six persons, took counsel together: "This  Harata

Kunwar-ke tiki-ke inghoi-he òk   hung-chòt;  apara     ningve
Kunwar    doing no work     deer hunts only; therefore at night

chingvai-nòn."          Ànsi aningve    chingvai-lo.       Apo
take counsel together." So   that night they took counsel. His father

aso     aklèng-aphàn    arju-lo--"Nàng kopusi àn   ne-hi-po?"
his son eldest (accus.) asked--"You    how    rice me-will-supply?"

"Ne-pu-tàngte sarlar    plàngsi       jo-arni       me
"As for me,   a headman having become night and day I

do-ji;              sarlar    a-màn       bàng-kevàn
will hold assembly; headman's perquisites by people brought

ahòr-ahàn-pèn-si   àn-lòk     àn-me     hòr-làng hòr-po    nàng
the rice-beer-from rice-white rice-good beer     (doublet) to you

pi-ji."       "Tàngte nàng adàk-vàm-ke kopusi àn   ne-hi-po?"
I will give." "Then   you  the next,   how    rice me will supply?"

"Ne-pu-tàngte hemai        hànsari   plàng-si jo-arni       noke
"As for me,   a blacksmith (doublet) becoming night and day knives

no-pàk thip-ji;      la noke         nopàk    nàng-kethip-atum
daos   I will forge; by those knives and daos there made by me

kevàn                   a-hòr a-hàn     akove     abithi   pènsi
brought (i.e. procured) beer  (doublet) betel-nut pan-leaf together

àn-lòk          àn-me     aràk-chidhir     nàng-piji."       "Nàng
with rice-white rice-good spirit (doublet) you I will give." "You

adàk-vàm adunke,    kopusi àn   ne-hi-po?"           "Ne-pu-tàngte
the second next to, how    rice will you supply me?" "As for me,

sai-tiki-si      puru    phàndar pelòng-si           ànlòk
field-work-doing granary store   having got together rice-white

àn-me     hòr-làng hòr-po    nang-piji."       "Nàng adàkvàm   adun
rice-good beer     (doublet) you I will give." "You the second next

le-thòt-ke,   kopusi àn   nehipo?"             "Ne-pu  tàngte
coming after, how    rice will you supply me?" "As for me,

bàng-ahèm        do-dun-si,                       labàng      ne-kepi
(other) person's house inhabiting as a companion, that person me given

a-àn     ahòr ahàn-si   nàng pipo."       "Nàng
rice and beer (doublet) you I will give." "You

adàkvàm-adun-le-thòt-ke       kopusi àn   nehipo?"
the second next coming after, how    rice will you supply?"

"Ne-pu-tàngte bàng-abàn              asòt      plàngsi  ne-kepi
"As for me,   another person's slave (doublet) becoming me given

a-àn     ahòr  ahàn-     pènsi       ne-àn   nàng pi-po."       "Tàngte
rice and beer- (doublet) with, from, my rice you  I will give." "Then

nàng Harata-Kunwar-ke, kolopu-si   àn   ne-hipo?"
you  Harata-Kunwar,    in what way rice me will you supply?"

"Nepu-tàngte Arnàm-aso    Arni-aso    èn-si           recho  kethe
"As for me,  God's child, Sun's child having married, a king great

plàngsi,       inghoi athàk inghu-athàk, kapòt-athàk kaplèng-athàk nàng
having become, throne upon  (doublet)    plank-upon  (doublet)     you

pàngni-si            bàn-sòt-atum     náng-ri    nàng-kèng
having caused to sit slaves and maids your hands your feet

nàng-pechàm-si,        hòr  àn   aràk-chidhir nàng-pi-ji."      Ànsi
having caused to wash, beer rice spirits      you I will give." So

chingvai-tànglo.                   Anerlo    sai-tiki-alòng,
they finished consulting together. That day, cultivation-place-in,

Harata-Kunwar abàng-kave-aphi, alàngtum kòrte bàng-phòngo apo-pèn
Harata-Kunwar not being there, those    brothers five,    with their

bàng-theròk         chingvai-thu-voi-phàk-lo.        "Alàng
father persons-six, began to consult together again. "That

Harata-Kunwar Arnàm Arni-aso    èn-si         recho  plàng-ji-si
Harata-Kunwar God   Sun's child having wedded a king will become,

pu?     Konàt arecho-si alàngke plàng-ji-ma? apara   pethi-lòt-lo-nàng.
indeed? Where a king    is he   to become?   so then kill let us (him).

Apara   ningve        chingvai-thu   si-nàng."        Aningve
So then at night time let us consult together again." That night

àn-chodèt         jundèt       alàngtum chingvai-lo,        kopusi
rice having eaten having drunk they     consulted together, how

kapethi     apòtlo.         "Apara   hèm-thàp    kim-po-nàng;
the killing was to be done. "So then a field-hut let us build;

Harata-Kunwar-aphàn-ke naidung-ahoi-le        kim-pi-ra
Harata-Kunwar (accus.) clearing-on the border having built it

pehòn-po-nàng.         Ànke etum   ajo      dàm-ra chir-pèn
let us cause to watch. Then let us by night going  with a spear

tòk-òt-nàng."         Alàngtum kachingvai              Harata-Kunwar
thrust-and-kill-him." Them     taking counsel together Harata-Kunwar's

atepi                arju-dun-lo. Ànsi adàp           àn-chodèt
eldest sister-in-law overheard.   Then in the morning rice having eaten

jundèt       alàngtum kado-kave sai-tiki-dàm-aphi          Harata-Kunwar
having drunk they     all       having gone to work after, Harata-Kunwar

òk-hung-pèn  hèm  vànglo. Ànsi atepi             àn   pilo;
from hunting home came.   Then his sister-in-law rice gave him;

àn-chodèt         jundèt       atepi             pulo-- "Nàng
rice having eaten having drunk his sister-in-law said-- "(On) you

miso                       nàng-prolàng,      Harata-Kunwar." Ànsi
a black ant (here = louse) there let me kill, Harata-Kunwar." So

a-rèk pelo,         pe-ma-pe-lo              amèk-kri H. K.
a louse she killed, while she was killing it a tear   H. K.'s

akèng-athàk nàng-klo-bup.       Ànsi H. K. arju-lo-- "Tepi,
leg-on      fell with a splash. Then H. K. asked--   "Sister-in-law!

nàng chiru-dèt-ma-da?" Ànsi atepi             pulo-- "Chiru-re:
you  are weeping?"     And  his sister-in-law said-- "I am not weeping:

arve    a-mu-si nàng-ke-klo."       Ako   pe-ma-pe
rain-of a drop  has fallen on you." Again while she was killing,

amèk-kri nàng-klo-thu-voi-phàk.       H. K. arju-thu-le-lo-- "Nàng
a tear   fell upon him a second time. H. K. asked again--    "You

chiru-dèt avi,     tepi!          ne-thàn-nòn,   kopi-apòtsi     nàng
crying are really, sister-in-law! me explain to, for what reason you

kachiru-ma." Ànsi thàn-lo:       "ne-lòkhai        àn-tàngte
are crying." Then she explained: "my father-in-law and also

nàng-ik-atum  kachingvai,                  hèm-thàp          nàng
your brethren have taken counsel together, a jungle-hut (in) you

pehòn-si              ajo      chir-pèn     nàng
having made to watch, by night with a spear you

tòk-òt-ji-si-pu:               lasi        ne ka-chiru."   Ànsi H. K.
will pierce and kill-they say: that is why I  am weeping." Then H. K.

pulo-- "Phere nàng-ne;          nàng ne-thàn-lo,   me-lo;      menàp
said-- "You need not be afraid; you  me have told, it is well; to-morrow

a-dàp   nàng promàn lòng-ji.  Ne thi-the-tàng-te, alàngtum aphi-aphi
morning you  proof  will get. I  not dead am-if,  them     after

hèm  nàng-dunsi   chilònghe     thàm-theròk ne sarnung
home here coming, worm-castings clods six   I  roof (upon)

nàng-var-po:     Lale    sarnung   ne-nàngkevar     arki  ave-dèt,
here will throw: that if roof (on) my-here-throwing noise there is not,

tàngte ne kithi-lo."      Ànsi arni-kàngsàm apòr      a-ik-atum
then   I  shall be dead." Then day-becoming cool-time his brothers

rit-pèn        nàng-che-voi-lo, ànsi apo        pulo: "Ningve-ke
from the field there returned,  and  his father said: "This night

H. K.-ta  hèm-thàp        hòn-dun     nàng-po; sòk       phàk
our H. K. jungle hut (in) go watching must;    the paddy pigs

cho-koi-lo;    ha    naidung-ahoi       netum hèm-thàp
are eating up; there clearing-on border we    a jungle-hut

nàng-kim-pi-koi-lo."     Ànsi àn-cho-dèt        jun-dèt,      H. K.
have finished building." Then rice having eaten having drunk, H. K.

a-thai  che-pòn-si      hèm-thàp       dàm-lo;  ànsi chitu-
his bow taking with him the jungle-hut went-to; and  (name of a plant)

a-the lik-pòn-si       a-làng    phingu-a-òp-pèn    bi-si,      arlèng
fruit having gathered, its juice plantain-sheath-in having put, man

ki-i          a-sònthòt-si-athàk pe      pachàp-si
sleeping (of) likeness upon      clothes having put round

pi-i-lo;            H. K.-ke      sòk a-se  arlo
he put it to sleep; H. K. himself rice-arch underneath

chepatu-joi-lo.      Ànsi àn-cho-mèk-bur          a-po
hid himself quietly. Then after their first sleep his father

a-ik-atum    chingthurlo:--       "Vàng-noi, H. K. pithi-dàm-po nàng."
his brothers awoke one another:-- "Come now, H. K. to kill let us go!"

Ànsi abàng-phu        chìr-epàk   chi-vàn-si,      H. K.
Then each one of them a spear-one taking with him, H. K.'s

ahèm-thàp-alòng  vàng-lo.   Ànsi apo        pulo-- "Da-nàng, aklèng!
jungle-hut-place (to) came. Then his father said-- "Go you,  the eldest,

arlu-ra     tòk-dàm-nòn!"        Aklèng     pudèt--    "Kopusi ne
climbing up pierce him through!" The eldest answered-- "How    I

tòk-dàm-hai-ji-ma?        e-kòr tàng-dèt,    e-mu tàng-dèt-lè;
go and pierce dare shall? our brother he is, our younger brother he is;

ipi        isi-pèt, i-po       isi-pèt; aphuthàk chubòng isi-pèt chithe
our mother is one,  our father is one;  moreover nipple  one     breast

isi-pet tòng-ràp-chòm:      akòrte tàng-dèt,     kopusi pithi
one     we sucked together: brothers-full-being, how    kill-him

hai-ji-ma?     ne hai-he!"   "Da tàngte nàng adàkvàm!"    Adàkvàm
should I dare? I  dare not!" "Go then,  you  the second!" The second son

pu-voi-phàk-- "Mai! patèng-kali,                           paju-kali:
rejoined--    "Ah!  (of a) second wife he is not (the son) (doublet):

kòrte-apòk,         mu-te-apòk                  tàngdèt-le,  kopusi
brother of one womb younger brother of one womb since he is, how (him)

pithi-hai-ji-ma?    ne hai-he."   "Da-tàngte nàng adàk-vam-adun."
slay should I dare? I  dare-not." "Go, then, you  second-to the next."

La pu-voi-phàk-- "Kèng-thàm isi-pèt, kèng-pàk isi-pèt, ri-dèng
He rejoined--    "Our thigh is one,  our foot is one,  our upper arm

isi-pèt, ri-pèk   isi-pèt-si, kethe-ràp-chòm       akòrte      tàng
is one,  our hand is one,     we grew up together, our brother since

dèt-le, kopusi pithi-thèk-ji-ma?          ne thèk-the!" "Da-nàng
he is,  how    could I possibly kill him? I  cannot!"   "Go now you,

adàkvàm-adun-lethòt." La pudèt-- "Mòk e-bòng-pèt  tòng-ràp-chòm
second-next-next."    He said--  "Nipple-one (at) having sucked together

akòrte   tàng-dèt,    aphu-thàk-ta bhin   kali bha kali le,     kopusi
brothers fully being, moreover     sister he has none (doublet) how

kapithi  hai-ji-ma?        ne hai-he."  "Da-tàngte nàng akibi."
kill him should I venture? I dare not." "Go-then,  you  the youngest."

"Mai! kopusi nele ne      ketoi-ma? Ne dun-tàngdèt,    ne-pu-tàng-te,
"Ah!  how    me   are you sending?  I  being next him, as for me,

akibi-pèn      the-ràp-ràp:         aphuthàk-ta          àn
childhood-from we grew up together: over and above that, rice

e-vàn-pèt          kecho-ràp,       hòr  harlung isipèt
(from) one platter we ate together, beer mug     one (from)

kejun-ràp:         abàng-le      ne pithi-hai-ji-ma?     ne hai-he."
we drank together: such a person I  to kill should dare? I dare not."

Ànsi     apo    àning-thi-lo: "Tàngte kopusi 'H. K. pithi-nàng'
Then his father became angry: "Then   how    'H. K. must be killed'

pu     nàngtum kepu-hai?     plàng-ple-ple-le,
saying ye      dared to say? if you cannot bring yourselves to this

nàngtum pinso plàng-vàngve,"      pusi    nujòk    arlu-si,
you     male  will never become," saying, the post climbing up,

chir-pèn     lobòng-a-òp         tòk-proi-lo;        ànsi
with a spear the plantain-sheath he pierced through; then

chitu-alàng           nàng-bu-lo;        ànsi "H. K.
(name of plant)-juice came dropping out; so   "H. K.

kàngtàng-ma-kàngtàng nònke nàng-dàn-lo-bò!              Arnàm
strong though he be, now   here he has got his deserts! God

Arni         aso      ènsì,          recho   kethe peplàng-bòm-lo-nàng
of the sun's daughter having wedded, a great king  let him make himself

nòn-ànke." Ànsi H. K. nàng-arju-dunlo:          "Kopi-kopi
now!"      Now  H. K. there overheard all this: "What, what

tàng-a,         ikmar-li?" pulo:    ànke "H. K. athai   do"  pu,
are you saying, brothers?" he said: and  "H. K. his bow has" saying,

phere-si kàt-lo;        chingthu-cherbu-si    kàt-lo;
fearing  they ran away; stumbling and falling they ran;

ahèmthàp            kachile
at their jungle hut their own arriving,

aning-vàngphàk-vàngphàk,                  ànsi ajo-pàngthàng
they vomited (lit. their breast came up), and  night-clearing away

bòr-i-dèt-si          adàp           hèm  chevoilo.      Ànsi H. K.-ta
with great difficulty in the morning home they returned. Then H. K. also

alàngtum-aphi-aphi dun-si, chilònghe      thàm-theròk sarnung
them after         coming, the worm-casts clods six   on the roof

var-dun-lo. Ànsi àn-chòdèt         jundèt       a-ikmar      rit
threw.      Then rice having eaten having drunk his brothers field (to)

dàmlo; aphi       H. K. vànglo. Ànsi atepi             àn pilo.
went;  afterwards H. K. came.   Then his sister-in-law rice gave him.

Chodèt       jundèt    pulo,    "Ai tepi!         ne dàk
Having eaten and drunk he said, "O sister-in-law! I  here

nàng-do-dun     thèk-the-lo: kòrte-apòk      mu-te-apòk aphu-thàk
remain with you cannot:      my brothers own (doublet)  nay even

e-po-apòk-ta        ne-pràn ne-mui-si ne arlèn-thuròng;  ne-pethi-ji
our father own even my life (doublet) me aim at (plur.); me to kill

ne-pejàng-ji-si matha-thuròng.             Apòtke    ne
me to slay      they are plotting (plur.). Therefore I

chòngvir-po.         Sàng-tèt    sàngti him    sàngpher-le       ne
will go a-wandering. A provision of rice bread parched rice also to me

sik-pi-nòn."     Ànsi atepi                pu-tekàng-lo--       "Lale ne
preparing give." Then to his sister-in-law he said on leaving-- "If   I

thi-dàm-de jàng-dàm-de-dèt, tàngte ne-kevàng-apòr         chelònghe
do not die (doublet),       then   my-returning-time (at) worm-cast

thàm-theròk nàng-varpo;        ànke inghoi-inghu kapòt-kaplèng
clods-six   here I will throw; then the stools   the planks

chàm-nòn."   Chiru-ràp-jo-si      chekàk-lo.
wash clean." Having wept together they parted.


Ànsi H. K. athai   che-pòn-si   kedàm-ma-kedàm, ànsi a-phi
Then H. K. his bow having taken went along,     and  his granny

hèm-epi ahèm           le-lo.   "O phi!    nàng bàng-do?"  Sarpi
the widow's house (at) arrived. "O granny! are you there?" The old woman

nàng-thàk-dèt  "Komàt-ma?     dàk    putàng-te,  ne-dòn ne-ràp
there answered "Who is there? as for this place, to me kith and kin

avedèt-pile:      komàtsi kevàng-ma?" H. K. thàk-dèt, "Ai  ne phi."
there is not any: Who     is come?"   H. K. answered, "Oh, I, granny."

Ànsi sarpi         pulo-- "kopi-kevàng-ma,    po?      neke
Then the old woman said-- "Why have you come, my dear? I am but

hèm-epi:      ne hèm ave        ne rit ave:
a lone widow: I  house have not I  field have not:

cho-hàng chorèk-chòt-si            kecho: kopi kevàng-lo?"     H. K.
food-begging (doublet) only (from) I eat: why  have you come?" H. K.

thàkdèt--  "Nàng-lòng nàng-do-dun-po."                    Sarpi
answered-- "With you  I will remain here as a companion." The old woman

pudèt-- "Nàngke   recho-athèng      kethe-athèng le,           kopusi
said--  "You that fit-to-be-a-king, fit-to-be-a-great-man are, how

ne-hèm      nàng nàng-kedo-dun-thèk-ji ma?" H. K. thàk-dèt-- "Me
in my house you  can keep me company?"      H. K. answered-- "Good,

phi:    nàng-do-dun-po."   Ànsi do-dun-lo          thàk-dun-lo. Ànsi
granny: here I will stay." So   he stayed with her (doublet).   Then

aphi       hèmepi    pulo-- "H. K., nàng   sòk       te-dun-nòn;
his granny the widow said-- "H. K., do you the paddy spread out to dry;

ne recho-aròng           sòk-sàng   rèk-dàm-po.      Mo    sòk
I  in the king's village paddy-rice to beg am going. After paddy

te-dèt               nàng làng-chinglu        dàm-ji-sèt-ta, làng-thàk
you have spread out, you  in the stream bathe to go if want, up-stream

dàm-ri: la   etum      a-hèm a-lòngle      chinglu." Ànsi
go not: this of us two house ground (upon) bathe."   Then

sòk-te-dèt              aphi       hèm-epi   recho-aròng       dàm-lo.
paddy having spread out his granny the widow to king's village went.

H. K. sòk       pòn-lo: harlo-dun-lòtsi
H. K. the paddy took:   having turned it over frequently

palòm-pèt            pe-rèng-dèt-si             sòk
in a very short time having thoroughly dried it the paddy

oi-si                     làng          chinglu-dàm-lo.
having collected together in the stream he went to bathe.


Ànsi H. K. matha-voi-phàk-- "kopi-apòtsi     ne-phi    'làngthàk
Then H. K. thought again--  "for what reason my granny 'up stream

dam-ri' pu     ne-kepu-tekàng-lo-ma? Làng-thàk nàng-dàm-si
go not' saying me telling went away? Up stream there going

nàng-làng-dàm-ji-làng,"        pusi      làngthàk  dàmlo.   Ser
I will go and see for myself," so saying up stream he went. Gold

alàng-the     rup    alàngthe      kephuk thèk-dàm-lo.
water-vessels silver water-vessels broken he, going, saw.

"O lasi           'làngthàk dàm-ri'  pu     ne-phi
"Oh, that was why 'up-stream go not' saying my granny

ne-ke pu-tekàng-le.         Ningve   nèng-arju-ji,   komàt-ching
told me when she went away. To-night I will ask her, whose

a-lànghe       ne."    Ànsi hèm  nàng-chevoilo. Ànsi a-phi
watering-place it is." So   home he returned.   Then his granny

hèm-epi-ta     recho-aròng-pen     arni-kàngsàm     hèm  nàng-chevoilo.
the widow-also king's village-from in the afternoon home returned.

Ànsi a-ningve   àn-cho-dèt        jun-dèt      H. K. arju-lo:
Then that night rice having eaten having drank H. K. asked:

"Komàt-ching a-lànghe ma,          la   làng-thàk? Ser  alàngthe
"Whose       watering-place is it, that up stream? Gold water-vessels

rup    alàngthe      kephuk oi-cho."     Ànsi hèm-epi   pulo: "Làngthàk
silver water-vessels broken are strewn." Then the widow said: "Up-stream

dàm-ri pu     ne nàng kepu-tekàng:     nàng arju-je-dèt-si
go-not saying I  you  told at parting: you  not hearing (obeying)

nàng làngthàk   dàm avi-le?"  Ànsi H. K. thàk-lo--  "Dàm-te-ma,
there up-stream went surely?" Then H. K. answered-- "Yes, I did go,

phi:    ne-thàn-tha,   komàt-ching a-lànghe       ma."    Ànsi
granny: explain to me, whose       watering place it is." Then

aphi       hèm-epi   thàn-lo:   "Bari-the     Recho  a-lànghe;
his granny the widow explained: "Palace-great king's watering place;

asomar,       kòrte bàng-theròk, làng-nàng-kachinglu-adim:
his children, sisters six,       in the water bathing-place (it is):

dàm-ri-nòn aparke."   Ànsi H. K. matha-voiphàk--    "Ne-phi
go not now any more." Then H. K. considered again-- My granny

dàm-ri-thu     pusi,        ne-pu
'go not again' having said, as for me,

nàng-dàm-thu-ji-làng."              Ànsi làngthàk  dàm-thu-lo.
there going again I will continue." Then up stream he went again.

Làng-kung          chipatu-joi-si          nerlo-chitim Bari-the
River bank (under) hiding himself quietly, day-middle   Palace-great

Recho  asomar    kòrte bàng-theròk
King's children, sisters six,

làng-nàng-chinglu-ji-si                   vànglo.
(in) the river for the purpose of bathing came.

Nàng-klo-èt-jo               akàn          nàng-chi-bi-kòk
Descending there beautifully their clothes there having laid aside

làng           sun-phit:                inut     akàn
into the water they jumped all at once: each one her clothes

nàng-chibi-kòk    làng sun-phit,                 keme-òng
having laid aside into the water jumped at once, most lovely!

chiklo-tur-dèt arni tur-dèt          lale  kachinglu    lale
moon-splendour sun-splendour (like), there they bathed, there

kachingthi.             Ànsi arni    ingsàm-jin-lo.         Aklèng
they washed themselves. So   the day became cool gradually. The eldest

nàng-pinkhàt-lo:       "Ai ètmarli! kitun apòrlo,
there-admonished-them: "O my dears! cooking-time it is,

kedàng apòrlo,         e-vo      chibèng  apòr,       e-phàk
serving-up-time it is, our fowls to house time it is, our pigs

chibèng apòrlo:      e-pi       e-tàmpo,       e-po       e-tàmpo,
to house time it is: our mother us will scold, our father us will scold,

dàm-po-nàng." Ànsi chinglu-tànglo,
let us go!"   So   bathing-they finished,

chingthi-tànglo:                  inut akàn
washing themselves they finished: one  her clothes

nàng-chihijìr-phlum-phlum  chi-i-lòk-si  ingjar-èt,             inut
shaking out so as to flap, having put on flew away beautifully, another

akàn        chihijir-phlum                  ingjar-èt,             ànsi
her clothes having shaken out so as to flap flew away beautifully, and

akibi-si-ke         aphi       ingjar-èt-jo,         chiklo-atur
the youngest of all afterwards flew away beautifully moon's-brightness

arni-atur        thelalàk.  Sining     lut-le-tik,        lale  H. K.
sun's brightness just like. The heaven not entered-until, there H. K.

kelàng-dun   puke    angphun       chepekèk-koi.              Ànsi
stood gazing so that his neck (in) he got a crook altogether. So

sining     lutkoi-lo,          thèk-dun-de-lo:      ànsi hèm
the heaven they entered quite, he saw them no more: so   home

chevoilo.    H. K. aning       mathalo "àn akeme,     àn akechòk,
he returned. H. K. in his mind thought "so beautiful! so lovely!

nàng èn-lòng-le-tik
here until I can get one to wife,

nàng-kim-lòng-le-tik
here until I can build the wedding bower (subaud, I will not rest);

ningve   ne-phi    nàng-arju-le-po."             Ànsi hèm
to-night my granny I will ask again about them." So   home

le-ròk         àn-cho-dèt        jun-dèt      H. K. aphi       arjulo:--
having arrived rice having eaten having drunk H. K. his granny asked:--

"Mai! phi!    la-sòntòt akeme      la-sòntòt akechòk
"Oh!  granny! that-like beautiful, that-like lovely

ne thèk-lòng-le-làng; kopusi ke-èn               lòng-po-ma?
I saw got never;      how    to take one to wife shall I attain to?

bidi   ne    thàn-tha!" Aphi       pudèt--    "Ai H. K.! bàng-ke
a plan to me explain!"  His granny answered-- "O  H. K.! those ones

arnàm-aso      arni-aso       recho-aso       kethe-aso
god's children sun's children king's children great one's children

       kopusi nàngke      arlèng-aso-le
(are): how    should you, who are but a child of man,

ke-èn-lòng-ji-ma?"               H. K. pulo-- "kali,   phi!    èn-lòng
succeed in getting one to wife?" H. K. said-- "not so, granny! get one

nàng-ji:        bidi   ne thàn-nòn."
to wife I must: a plan to me explain."


Thàn-the              tik-tàk         arju-ver-si        thàn-lo:
Did not-explain (she) so-long-as (he) continuing to ask, she explained:

"Nàng ke-èn-ji-pèt-tàngte,        la làng-kung-le    rit
"You  are-bent-on-wedding-one-if, that river-bank-on a field

pàn-dàm-nòn." Ànsi H. K. pulo-- "Me-òng-chòt-lo, phi:    menàp-pèn-apara
to clear go." And  H. K. said-- "Very good,      granny: to-morrow-from

pàn-dàm-po."             Ànsi adàp        the-àng the-àng-e
I will go and clear it." And  the morning dawning not dawning

làng-ding:             ànsi         adàp        ing-thànglo.  Ànsi nopàk
he continued to watch: so (at last) the morning dawned fully. Then a dao

e-pàk che-pòn-si      dam-lo.  Le-ròk-pèn    do-de,
one   taking with him he went. Arriving-from he waited not,

sàng-se,      lale  kepàn    lale  kepàn,    arni-si-pèt
he rested not there clearing there clearing, in one day only

pàn-dèt             pi-dèt,    ànsi màm    thilo, me   keilo:     lale
he cleared it fully (doublet), then jungle cut,   fire set-to-it: there

kecho puke,                         abèng            akòk    thi-rok-re
it (the fire) ate it up so quickly, a piece of wood, a stalk lying-not

cho-èt.      Ànsi thèngthe, hànjàng, nòk,        phingu,  arche-lo,
it devoured. Then maize,    millet,  sugar-cane, plantain he dibbled in,

aphu-thàk-ta        mir phèk-e,         tado,       mir-kadòmphui,
over and above also (name of a flower), white lily, marigold,

asòn-sòn      mir     e-lo.       Ànsi Bari-the     Recho  asomar
various kinds flowers he planted. Then Palace-great King's daughters

làng           nàng-chinglu-lelo:      nàng-klo-èt-jo
(in the) river there-to bathe-arrived: there they descended beautifully,

keme   thèk-the-òng     puke--chiklo-le vàng-phlòt, arni-le   vàng-phlòt
lovely to impossibility so--moon-as-if  came down   sun-as-if came down

thelalàk.  Ànsi chinglu-tàngdèt
just like. Then having finished bathing

chingthi-tàngdèt,                   H. K.   ateràn      nàng-thèklo.
having finished washing themselves, H. K.'s garden-plot they saw there.

Ànsi pulo--      "Mai! komàt arit-ma?     me-òng-he."         Aklèng
So   they said-- "Oh!  whose field is it? it is very pretty." The eldest

thàk-dèt-- "E-kòrpo                     H. K.   ateràn-le-ma."
answered-- "Our cousin (brother-in-law) H. K.'s garden plot it must be."

Ànsi sining    chingjar-thu-èt-jo-lo.                     H. K. "nàmtusi
Then to heaven they flew away again beautifully together. H. K. "how

ke-èn-lòng-po-ma?"               pu     matha-ding,         ànsi
shall I succeed in getting her?" saying continued to think, and

aphi       arju-thu-le-lo--       "Ai  phi!    nàmtu-ching-si
his granny went and asked again-- "Oh, granny! when and how

ke-èn-lòng-apòtlo-ma?"           Aphi       thàkdèt--  "La-pu-pe-lòng,
am I to succeed in getting one?" His granny answered-- "That-way-not,

asu-po:        hèm-thàp     chi-kim-tha."        Ànsi adàp
grandson-dear: a jungle hut build for yourself." So   in the morning

hèm-thàp     kim-dàm-lo.       Arni-si-pèt     hèm-thàp     thepi
a jungle hut he went to build. In one day only a jungle hut very big

kim-dèt-si   hèm  chevoilo,    ànsi "hèm-thàp       tànglo,
having-built home he returned, and  "the jungle hut I have finished,

phi,"    pu     thàn-lo.      "Tàngte pòngsi
granny," saying he explained. "Then   (in) a flute

che-èt-nòn,"               pusi   aphi       pinkhàt-lo.  Ànsi pòngsi
bore a hole for yourself," saying his granny advised him. Then flutes

che-èt-o.                     Ànsi thèngthe-apòr hànjàng-apòrlo.
he bored several for himself. So   maize-time    millet-time it became.

Aphi       pinkhàt-lo--  "Hèm-thàp           chehòn-dàm-ra  pòngsi
His granny advised him-- "In your jungle hut going to watch flute

but-nòn." Arit putàngte,    palòm-pèt             lale  mir
blow."    His field as-for, in a very little time there flowers

kàngthu-puke, matha thèk-the-dèt.       Ànsi Bari-the     Recho
blossomed-so, it could not be imagined. Then great-Palace King's

asomar   làng         nàng-chinglu-le-lo:     nàng-ingjar-èt-jo
children in the river there to bathe arrived: there flying beautifully

inut akàn        chi-bi-kòk   làng         sun-phit,        inut
one  her clothes laying aside in the river jumped straight, another

akàn        chi-bi-kòk   làng         sun-phit,        lale  kachinglu
her clothes laying aside in the river jumped straight, there bathed

lale  kachingthi.        Ànsi aklèng     nàng-pinkhàt-le-lo--
there washed themselves. Then the eldest there advised them again--

"Da,   ètmarli, dàm-po-nàng." H. K. lale      pòngsi    kebut puke,
"Come, dears,   let us go."   H. K. thereupon his flute blew  so,

matha-thèk-the-dèt.       "Mai! pòngsi-kebut-ta
it could not be imagined. "Oh!  flute-playing indeed

ju-me-òng:            H. K. abàng    do-avi:       da    ètmarli,
is very good to hear: H. K. a person it is surely: come, dears,

mir     che-hàng-dàm-si-nàng"; ànsi vànglo.    "H. K., nitum mir
flowers to beg let us go";     so   they went. "H. K., we    flowers

chilòk-pòn-chòt-làng,                chilòk-pòn
for ourselves pluck take a few wish, pluck and take

ningke-ma,               po?"  "Chilòk-pòn      ningke-ma,"
are you willing that we, sir?" "Pluck and take, I am willing certainly,"

pu,     H. K. pulo. Ànsi abàng-phu-ta     mir
saying, H. K. said. So   each one of them flowers

chilòk-pòn-si            dàmlo,     ingjar-pòn-èt-jo.
having plucked and taken went away, they flew away gracefully together.

Sining    lut-le-tiktàk,              H. K. lale  kelàng-dun-puke
In heaven (they) not entered so long, H. K. there continued gazing so,

amèk     chi-peso-koi,      ano                  chi-peso-koi.      Ànsi
his eyes became quite sore, his ears (i.e. eyes) became quite sore. So

sining     lut-koi-lo:              thèk-dun-de-lo-pu-ànsi,
the heaven they entered completely: he-could-no-longer-see-them-when,

H. K. ta   hèm  chevoilo. Ànsi aphi       hèm-epi   nàng-arjulo--
H. K. also home returned. Then his granny the widow there asked him--

"Mini   Bari-the     Recho  asomar   nàng     chingki-pòn-ma?"
"To-day great-Palace King's children with you did converse?"

"Chingki-pòn-te;      mir-ta       ne
"Yes, they conversed; flowers even me

kehàng-pòn-làngle."                  Ànsi aphi       bidi   thànlo:
they asked to be allowed to gather." Then his granny a plan explained:

"Menàp-ta arni keme:        Bari-the     Recho  asomar   làng
"To-morrow (is) a day good: Great palace King's children in the river

nàng-chinglu-le-ji-apòtke,             chipatu-joi-ra
there to bathe-arriving-on-as-soon-as, hiding yourself quietly

làng-dun-tòn-nòn. La    aklèng-atum    kòrte   bàng-phòngo-ke apèngnàn
watch secretly.   Those elder (plural) sisters persons five   husbands

do-àngse-lo.  Akibi-si     dèt-lo, latu Mòn Recho
have all got. The youngest only,   her  Mon Raja  (King of the winds)

asopo-aphàn kerai-dun;             hòrbòng         hòrte
his son-for is asking in marriage; the beer-gourds (doublet)

le-koi-lo.        Bònta        la-dèt-lo, la-apini-le
have all arrived. Nevertheless her only,  her petticoat (accus.)

pàngthèk-dun-ra               làng         kachinglu-aphi           dàk
having carefully singled out, in the river they-have-plunged-after, here

vàn-nòn.     Ne la-sòntòt    apini       alar-thàk-po:           lale
bring to me. I  it-just like a petticoat in exchange will weave: that

pòn-ra adim-thòt          bi-pi-dàm-thu-nòn.        La-apini-binòng-ke
taking in that same place go and set it down again. Her-petticoat-own

patu-joi-po-nàng.    Ànsi alàng
hide-quietly-let-us. Then she

ingiar-dun-thèk-the-lo.                       Lale  apini         nàng
to fly away with the others will not be able. There her petticoat you

che-hàng-lo-te,  'inut-le-inut        ne-do-nòn'      pu-ra  pu-nòn."
she asks for-if, 'one or other of you become my wife' saying say."

"To,  me-òng-chòt-lo,   Phi,"    pu     H. K. pulo. Aphi       labàngso
"Yes, very good indeed, granny," saying H. K. said. His granny that

abidi thàn-chèk-pèn-apara,    H. K.   aning aròng    kedo
plan  having explained-after, H. K.'s mind  cheerful became

matha-thèk-the-dèt;    ajo-ta          amèk     jàngthèk-the
as you cannot imagine; the whole night his eyes close he could not

a-no jàng-thèk-the matha-ding.             Ànsi adàp    ing-thànglo:
(doublet),         but continued thinking. Then morning fully dawned:

àn-chodèt         jundèt       arit      chedàmlo.     "Nàmtu-ching-si
having eaten rice having drunk his field (to) he went. "When

nerlo chitim-po-ma?"      pu     inghòng-ding;         ànsi sàngti-arlo
day   middle will it be?" saying he continued waiting; then sand-beneath

chi-patu-dam-joi.       Ànke nerlo-chitim Bari-the     Recho  asomar
he hid himself quietly. So   at mid-day   Great Palace king's children

vànglo: nàng-ingjar-èt-jo,               inut akàn
came:   there they flew down gracefully, one  her clothes

nàng-chi-bi-kòk làng-sun-phit           inut    akàn
putting aside   plunged into the river, another her clothes

nàng-chi-bi-kòk làng-sun-phit,          ànsi
laying aside    plunged into the river, and

làngkachinglu-aphi               H. K. thur-joi-si
they had entered the water after H. K. rising quietly

la-kibi-si          apini     ajiso         inghu-pòn-dèt-si
that youngest one's petticoat striped cloth stealing and taking away

aphi       hèm-epi    alòng pòn-phit-lo.         Ànsi aphi
his granny the widow- to    took it straightway. And  his granny

la-sòntòt    apini       ajiso           thàk-thu-lo,
it just like a petticoat a striped cloth wove in exchange,

palòm-pèt            thàk-dèt.      Ànsi H. K. nàng-kàt-thu-voi-lo,
in a very short time she wove them. Then H. K. there ran back again,

adim-thòt-si       pini      jiso          bi-dàm-thu-si,
place-that-same-in petticoat striped cloth putting down in exchange,

ahèm-thàp      chevàngsi   pòngsi    but-lo: lale  kebut     puke
his jungle-hut going into, the flute played: there he played so that

matha-thèk-the           jadi-thèk-the. Ànsi chinglu dòr-lo,
it could not be imagined (doublet).     Then they had enough of bathing

chingthi-dòr-lo.                       Ànsi aklèng
they had enough of washing themselves. Then the eldest

nàng-pinkhàt-le-lo--          "Ai ètmarli,  dàm-po-nàng;
there admonished them again-- "O  my dears! let us go;

ketòk-apòr,                 kesèt-apòrlo;
it is (rice) pounding time, it is time for the second pounding;

ketun-apòr          kedàng-apòrlo;         kebe-apòr,
it is cooking-time, it is setting-on time; it is time to heat the beer,

kesòr-apòrlo."           Ànsi akàn        nàng-chi-i-dèt-si
time to squeeze it out." Then her clothes there having put on

pu-thu-le-lo--   "Da,   mir     che-hàng-dàm-si-nàng." Ànsi mir
she said again-- "Come, flowers let us go and beg."    Then flowers

chelòk-dàm-dèt       ànke      aphràngsi aklèng     ingjarlo; ànsi
having gone to pluck thereupon first     the eldest flew up;  then

akibi-atum-ta         ingjar-dun-èt-jo-lo;                      ànsi
the younger ones also flew up with her gracefully all together; then

akibi-ta          ingjar-dun-lo
the youngest also tried to fly with them,

ingjar-dun-thèk-the-dèt:         ingjar-tàng-te,
but found she was unable to fly: if she flew up,

nàng-klo-thu-bup;          ingjar-dun-chòt,
there she fell back again; if she tried to fly with them,

nàng-klo-thu-bup.          Ànsi aklèng     pulo-- "Mai!
there she fell back again. Then the eldest said-- "Oh!

kopi-ching apòtlo-ma?"            Ànsi aklèng-atum-ta
what in the world is the matter?" Then the elder ones also

nàng-chihir-thu-voiphàk-lo, ànsi H. K.   alòng vàngsi pulo-- "Ai H. K.,
there came down again,      and  H. K.'s place coming said-- "O H. K.,

nàng si       ne-mu                apini     lar-dèt      avi,
you it is who our younger sister's petticoat have changed without doubt,

apòt-ke   vàn-nòn"       pu-hàng-lo.             Ànsi H. K. thàk-dèt--
therefore bring it back" saying they called out. Then H. K. answered--

"Inut-le-inut        ne-do-te."   Bari-the     Recho  asomar   pudèt:
"One or other of you be my wife." Great-Palace King's children said:

"Kopusi nàng-kedo    apòtlo?         netum ne-pèngàn
"How    you to marry is it possible? we    our-husbands

kedo-tàng,        ne-pèngàn kedo-tàng rèp-le."                  H. K.
have got already, our husbands have got already married to us." H. K.

pudèt-- "Tangte ne pini      nàng-pi-thèk-the:   inut-le-inut
said--  "Then   I  petticoat you give up cannot: one or other of you

ne-do-ma-si."   Ànsi Bari-the     Recho  asomar   chepulo:
me must marry." Then Great-Palace King's children said one to another:

"Te,             nàng-do-nòn."      Aklèng     thàk-dèt: "Kopusi
"Sister (elder), do you marry him." The eldest answered: "How

ne-le    kedo-ji?   ne-so      kechàn-jai-le."        "Tàngte adàk-vàm,
should I marry him? I-children several have already." "Then   the next,

nàng-le do-nòn."    "Kopusi ne kedo-thèk-po?                ne
do you  marry him." "How    I  should be able to marry him? I

ningke      ne-so bàng-phili tàng-dèt-le."      "Adàkvàm-adun,
myself also my children four have got already." "Second sister-next-to,

nàng-le do-nòn   tàngte." "Kopusi kedo-thèk-ji?             ne ningke
do you marry him then."   "How    can I possibly marry him? I  also

ne-so       bàng-kethòm tàng-dèt-le."      "Tàngte
my children three       have got already." "Then

adàkvàm-àdun-le-thòt,       nàngle do-nòn."    "Ne-ta ne-so    bàng-hini
second sister-next-to-next, do you marry him." "I too children two

tàng-dèt-le,      kopusi kedo-po?"            "Nàng
have got already, how    should I marry him?" "You

adàk-vàm-adun-le-thòt,                nàng-le do-nòn."
second-sister-next-to-next following, do you marry him."

"Do-thèk-the,        ne-ta ne-so    inut tàng-dèt-le-ma?"     "Tàngte
"I cannot marry him, I too my child one  have I not already?" "Then

nàng akibi-si-le do-nòn."             Akibi-si     thàk-dèt--
you  the youngest, do you marry him." The youngest answered--

"Ne-tu,     Mòn Recho asopo-aphàn ne kerai-dun             tàng-dèt-le:
"As for me, Mon Raja  his son-for me is asking in marriage already:

hòr-bòng hòr-te    nàng-le-koi-lo;         pusi
the gourds of beer there arrived all have; how

kedo-thèk-po?"             Aklèng-atum       pudèt-- "Bònta nàng
can I possibly marry him?" The elder sisters said--  "But   you

pàngri-re-dèt-làng-le-ma: nàng-le do-nòn-èt!      Ingting-po,
are not married yet:      do you marry him, dear! It will be dark soon,

netum dàm-po:     ha    hèm-ta  e-vo      e-phàk
we must be going: there at home our fowls our pigs

ingrèng-jo-si-do-po;            aphu-thàk-ta e-pi       e-po
will all be calling out for us; moreover     our mother our father

nàng-làng-phròng-si-do-po.        Netum-ta
there will be looking out for us. We also,

vàng-bòm-ji-le-ma?"                         Ànsi akibi-ta     pulo--
shall we not continue to come and see you?" Then the youngest said--

"Pu làng-ma          te-marli? do-po,            nàng-tum dàm-nòn;
"What is to be done, sisters?  I will marry him, do you go;

e-pi       e-po       aningthi-dèt-ji."    Ànsi aklèng-abàng   pulo--
our mother our father will be very angry." Then the eldest one said--

"H. K., nàng thàn-bòm-ta                         arju-je-dèt-lo,
"H. K., you  (our) instruction from time to time would not listen to,

apòtke    ne-mu               nàng-tekàng-po;      bònta        aduk
therefore our youngest sister here we are leaving; nevertheless grief

pi-ri         alàk    pi-ri;        ketun   toi-ri,       kedàng
give her not, trouble give her not; to cook send her not, to serve up

toi-ri;       aphu-thàk-ta a-ri     su-ri-tha, akèng    su-ri-tha." Ànsi
send her not; moreover     her hand touch not, her foot touch not." So

a-mu                 che-pere-tekàng-si                sining
their younger sister having instructed and left behind to heaven

chingjar-thu-èt-jo-lo.                   Sining lut-le      tiktàk,
they flew up again beautifully together. Heaven not entered so-long-as,

chi-làng-dun-ding:                                   ànsi
they (H. K. and his wife) continued gazing together: then

thèk-dun-de-lo.              Pu-ànsi H. K. pulo-- "Ingting-po,
they could see them no more. Then    H. K. said-- "It is getting dark,

e-tum-ta    dàm-po-nàng." Ànsi H. K. aning    aròng do-lo,
let us also go our way."  So   H. K. his mind joyful lived,

jo-arni       thijòk ke-àp    phàk-lèng ke-àp
night-and-day deer   shooting wild-pig  shooting,

a-ur                            krèng-kre     a-ràp     krèng-kre.
his platform (for drying flesh) was never dry his shelf was never dry.


Ànsi ningkan isi ingtàng-lo.     "Ai phi,   'ne hèm  chedàmpo'  pusi
So   a year  one came to an end. "O granny, 'I  home I will go' saying

ne-kepulo,       kolopu-lo-ma?"    pu     H. K. pulo. "Nàng
I say to myself, what am I to do?" saying H. K. said. "You

hèm-tàng-dèt,        nàng rit-tàng-dèt-le-ma,         chedàm-ta   me;
have your own house, you  have your own field indeed, you can go, well;

bònta nàng-peso nàng-che-me-me-làng."               "Bònta," H. K.
but   your wife with you does not get on well yet." "But,"   H. K.

pudèt, "ningkàn-isi-lo-le-ma-thi,         phi."    "Bònta         nàng
said,  "a year one (whole) it is, though, granny." "Nevertheless, you

che-me-me-la."            Ànsi "Ai tàngte, dàm-thèk-the-làng-po" H. K.
have not hit it off yet." Then "Oh, then,  go I cannot yet,"     H. K.

pulo. Ànsi H. K. lale  katiki lale          kànghoi   puru       kelòng
said. Then H. K. there working in the field (doublet) barns-full getting

phàndar      kelòng,  hèm-epi     ahèm  puke
granary-full getting, the widow's house so

ingkro                          ingtòng
cylindrical receptacle for rice conical basket

ardung-dung.                         Ànsi H. K. aso     Arnàm pilo,
were so many (i.e. was filled with). And  H. K. a child God   gave,

aso     inut-lo.  Ànsi aphi       arju-thu-le-lo: "Ai phi
a child one only. Then his granny he asked again: "Oh, granny,

ne-pi      ne-po-atum  a-lòng     chedàmpo-si ne kepu."
'my mother my father's place (to) I will go'  I  say to myself."

Hèm-epi   thàkdèt:  "Nàng-peso nàng     cheme-me-làng-ti,
The widow answered: "Your wife (to) you is not yet well reconciled,

asupo."         "Kali    phi,    chemelo:           ne so    inut
grandson dear." "Not so, granny, she is reconciled: me child one

tàng-dèt-lo-le-ma?"            "Da tàngte: nàng thàn-bòm-ta,
has she not already given me?" Go then:    you  I repeatedly advised,

nàng arju-thèk-the-dèt-lo;   chedam-nòn;  bònta        nàng-peso
you  would not listen to me; go together; nevertheless your wife

nàng-cheme-me-làng            de."     Ànsi H. K. apeso    chepulo
is not thoroughly reconciled, indeed." Then H. K. his wife (to) said

"Ai nàng-pi,      i-li-ta e-hèm       chedàm-po-nàng." Apeso    thàkdèt,
"O thou dear one, we two  to our home let us go."      His wife replied,

"Da, nàng ne kepòn  aling-lo-he."       Ànsi adàp-lo:
"Go, you  me taking wherever you will." So   it became morning:

àn-cho-dèt        jun-dèt      dàmlo.        Tovar e-bèng
rice having eaten having drunk they started. Road  a piece (of)

lelo.         Ànsi asopo-pèn apeso-pèn    avàm
they arrived. Then his child and his wife his waist

tàmpòng-hèt-si,                          poho-pèn
putting between waist and girdle firmly, with his turban

che-vàm-phòng-hèt-lo.         Ànsi dàm dàm dàm,
he bound well round his body. So   as they went on their way,

vo-har        alopo inglòng                nàng  arke-dut,
a jungle-fowl male  on the mountain (side) there was scratching,

arlòk         nàng-arke-dut  matha-thèk-the jadi-thèk-the. Ànsi H. K.
the precipice was scratching inconceivably  (doublet).     Then H. K.

pulo-- "Chi, vohar-alopo, kopi kacheplàng-ma?       ne hèm
said-- "Oh,  jungle-cock, what are you doing there? I  home

kachedàm-tòng        tovar   ne    pèk-nòn."    Vohar alopo
am-going-in-a-hurry, the way to me leave free." The jungle cock

thàkdèt--  "Tovar   nàng   kepèk-ji                kali:  'mini   H. K.
answered-- "The way to you I will leave free by no means: 'to-day H. K.

apeso    aso chevàn-po'        tàng    pusi
his wife his child will bring' so much saying to myself,

akhàt akhàt          amàng amàng ne nàng ketòn-le."    H. K.
the way he is coming (doublet)   I  here am watching." H. K.

pu-voiphàk-- "Che, pulèm-dèt-ri! emoke     'H. K. apeso    aso
rejoined--   "Oh,  joke do not!  hereafter 'H. K. his wife his child

hèm   rit        chevàn-ànsi     ne-pràn ne-mui  dàmlo'   pu
house field (to) bringing while, my life my soul is gone' thus

pupa-na."            Vohar alopo     pudèt, "Pupe.            Mini
do not have to say." The jungle cock said,  "I do not say so. To-day

nàng-ta-me ne-ta-me."            H. K. pulo "Sakhit-ma?"    "Sakhit."
either you or I (will prevail)." H. K. said "Is that true?" "Yes, true."

"Dohai-ma?"        "Dohai."   Ànsi H. K. athai   chepaching-kàngsi
"Do you swear it?" "I swear." So   H. K. his bow having set

abòp.     Ànsi dàm-thu-chòt,             vo-rèk alopo    tovar
shot him. Then a little further he went, a cock pheasant the way

nàng-parpàn-pèt inglòng      nàng-arke-dut,        arlòk
right across    the mountain there was scratching, the precipice

nàng-arkedut         matha-thèk-the jadi-thèk-the. Ànsi H. K. pulelo
there was scratching in an extraordinary manner.   Then H. K. said again

"Chi vo-rèk-alopo,  kopi nàng-cheplàng-ma?    ne hem
"Oh, cock pheasant, what are you doing there? I  home

kache-dàm-tòng,      tovar   ne-pèk-nòn."        Vo-rèk   alopo
am in a hurry to go, the way leave free for me." The cock pheasant

pudèt-- "Tovar    nàng   kepèk-ji     kali:        'mini   H. K.
said--  "The road to you I will yield by no means: 'to-day H. K.

apeso    aso     chevàn-po-tàng'   pusi   akhàt   akhàt amàng  amàng
his wife his son will bring along' saying the way he is coming (doublet)

ne nàng-ketòn-le." H. K. pudèt-- "Chi, pulèm-dèt-ri! emoke     'H. K.
I  am watching."   H. K. said--  "Oh,  don't joke!   hereafter 'H. K.

apeso    aso     chevàn-ànsi    ne-pràn ne-mui  dàm-lo'
his wife his son bringing-while my life my soul departed'

pupa-na."           Vorèk alopo       pudèt "pupe."           H. K.
don't have to say." The cock-pheasant said  "I don't say so." H. K.

pu-le-lo--"Sakhit-ma?"     "Sakhit." "Dohai-ma?"     "Dohai."   Ànsi
said again "Is that true?" "True."   "Do you swear?" "I swear." Then

H. K. athai   chepaching-kàngsi abòp.
H. K. his bow having set        shot him.


Ako     dàm dàm dàm,  phàk-lèng alopo    kethe puke  matha
Forward as they went, a wild boar (male) great so as could

thèk-the        jadi-thèk-the, àngthur   àngni     pàn-lòk-phòng,  tovar
not be imagined (doublet),     his snout his tusks overlapping so, road

nàng-par-pàn-pèt   inglòng       nàng-thimur-phàk  arlòk
there-right-across the mountain| there was rooting the precipice

nàng-thimur-phàk  abidi thèk-the-dèt.      Ànsi H. K. pulo: "Chi,
there was rooting in an extraordinary way. Then H. K. said: "Oh,

phàk-lèng alopo, kopi nàng cheplàng-ma?     Tovar   ne-pèk-tha:
wild boar,       what you  are doing there? The way leave free for me:

ne hèm  kapele      seraràk-ji." Phàklèng alopo thàkdèt--  "Tovar
I  home want to get quickly."    The wild boar  answered-- "The road

nàng    kepèk-ji          kali:        'mini   H. K. apeso    aso
for you I will leave free by no means: 'to-day H. K. his wife and child

chevàn-po-tàng'    pusi             akhàt-akhàt amàng-amàng
will bring along,' saying to myself the way     he is coming (doublet)

ne nàng ketòn-le."    H. K. pudèt "Chi, pulèm-dèt-ri!
I  here am watching." H. K. said  "Oh,  don't jest!

jasemèt ma-pu-ma?"  Phàk-lèng alopo pulo "Jasemèt."    H. K. pudèt--
is it true or not?" The wild boar   said "It is true." H. K. said--

"Emoke     'H. K. apeso    aso     hèm  chevàn-ànsi    ne-pràn dàm-lo
"Hereafter 'H. K. his wife his son home while bringing my life is gone,

ne-mui  dàm-lo'  pupa-na."           Phàklèng alopo pudet--
my soul is gone' don't have to say." the wild boar  said--

"Pu-pe."          "Sakhit-ma?"    "Sakhit."     "Dohai-ma?"
"I don't say so." "Is that true?" "It is true." "Do you swear?"

"Dohai."   "Chi, tàngte"-- pu     a-thai  chepaching-kàngsi abòp.
"I swear!" "Oh,  then"--   saying his bow having set        he shot him.

Ànsi hèm-le-ji-dòk-dòk-lo,                     chilònghe  thàm-theròk
So   (when) he had nearly arrived at his home, worm casts clods six

pàngrum-si       H. K. sarnung            vardàmlo.       Ànsi
having collected H. K. the roof (on) went and threw them. Thus

atepi                   pulo-- "H. K. vànglo!      To   inghoi
his elder sister-in-law said-- "H. K. has arrived! Then the stools

kechàm inghu     kechàm." Ànsi inghoi     inghu kapàt  kaplèng
wash   the seats wash!"   So   the stools seats planks benches

chàm-lo.     Ànsi H. K. phàklèng  e-jòn vàn-si,         pai-a-re
they washed. Then H. K. wild-boar one   having brought, the hedge beside

nàng-bikòk-si            hèm  vànglo. Ànsi kelepèn
there having set it down home came.   Then on his arrival

atepi                    hòrlàng hòrpo     him   sàng-pher
his eldest sister-in-law beer    (doublet) bread parched rice

nàng-pi-lo.     Apeso    keme-òng       puke, arni  atur      thelalàk
gave him there. His wife very beautiful so,   sun's splendour like,

charsàp un-e.                    Ànsi a-ik-atumke--  "paningve
be looked in the face could not. Then his brothers-- "To-night

kopi-ching        ahàn-lo-ma?"   pu     ning-ri-jo.     Ànsi H. K. pulo:
what in the world has happened?" saying were perplexed. Then H. K. said

"Ne mo          tovar      phàkso       nàng-abòp:  ja
"I  a while ago on the way a little pig there-shot: there

pai-are-si       me   bi-tekàng-kòk:        lale  cho-phi
beside the hedge well I placed and left it: there scorch it for eating

dàm-nòn." Ànsi a-ikmar-atumke kòrte-bàng-phòngo  dàmlo; aphàk
go."      Then his brothers,  the brothers five, went;  the boar

kethe-òng          peklèm-àn-ta un-e:           thàngta
(was) so very big, move it even they could not: anything

chònghoi         thèk-the.       Ànsi H. K. dun-lo:           ari
do by themselves they could not. Then H. K. accompanied them: hand

e-hòng     rum-dàm-kòk:                   ànsi phi-si
one (with) he lifted and brought it away: then having scorched it

ingthàn-lo,     ànsi hèm  vàn-lo,  cho-tun-lo chodànglo.    Ànsi aròng
they cut it up, and  home brought, cooked it, served it up. And  joyful,

bohòng chingnèk chingni-si        cho-lo,   jun-lo.
noisy, laughing and making merry, they ate, they drank.


Ànsi puthòt-adàplo.       "H. K. apeso    chevànlo"    tàng    pu
So   next morning dawned. "H. K. his wife has brought" so much saying

arju-lòng-si       a-ràt-isi adèt-isi     nàng  kelàng
having got to hear the whole country-side there to see

chethòr-pre           matha-thèk-the           jadi-thèk-the. Ànsi H. K.
kept coming and going as you could not imagine (doublet).     And  H. K.

apeso      apini     binòng, ajiso         binòng, aser
his wife's petticoat own     striped cloth own,    gold jewels,

alèk,     pòng-ting-ke,    làng-pòng    thàp         mesèn-si
necklace, gold-drum (in a) bamboo joint putting away carefully,

kardòng                    ràklòk.  Ànsi H. K.-ke ròng-phu-ri
(in the) pitch of the roof tied up. So   H. K.    the village people

dàmlo,             rup-phu-ri-dàmlo: aràt       adèt
each went to visit (doublet):        the ryots, the country

chi-phu-ri dàm:            aphi       apeso    nàng  kelàng
in turn came to visit him: afterwards his wife there to gaze on they

vàng-pre.              Mane-ke "ni"   mane-ke
kept coming and going. Some    "aunt" some

"nèng"                            mane-ke "te"           mane-ke
"sister-in-law" (brother's wife), some    "elder sister" some

"pinu"          pu-abàng-ta-dolo.    "Vai!
"paternal aunt" saying each one was. "Oh!

me-òng-te-ma?"                 pu     pasingnàk-jo.     Ànsi H. K.
is she not beautiful, sister?" saying they all admired. Then H. K.'s

apeso thàk-dun-lo--   "Àn-chòt kali lànghe! Ne pini      binòng, ne
wife  answered them-- "So much not  yet!    My petticoat own,    my

jiso          binòng, ne lèk      binòng, ne roi      binòng le    ne
striped cloth own,    my necklace own,    my bracelet own    again I

chepindèng-lòng-te,       aparta so-se-làng."         Ànsi mane
to put on were to get-if, it would not be thus only." Then some

asarpi    pulo-- "Chi, tàngte nàng pi-tha."             Ànsi H. K.
old woman said-- "Oh,  then   do you give them to her." Then H. K.'s

asarpo     pulo-- "Konàt-tòng la oso ingchàm     bipikòk-lo-ne-le?
old father said-- "Where ever (did) that boy mad stow them away?

kopi athe-tàng  apini         jiso          binòng kepi-pe-dèt?"
for what reason her petticoat striped cloth own    did he not give her?

Ànsi H. K.   apeso thàn-lo--   "Hala kardòng-le
Then H. K.'s wife  explained-- "That pitch of roof-in

keràk-chèk-ke."               Ànsi phri-dàm-si
he has tied them in a bundle. Then having untied

nàng-pi-lo.                     Ànsi chepindèng-lo
there he gave her (the things). Then she put them on herself

che-sum-pòt-lo. Lale      keme-puke    matha-thèk-the-dèt chi-plàng-lo.
(doublet).      Thereupon beautiful so inconceivably      she became.

Ànsi "Ai! me-ke      mesèn-te-ma!   arnàm-aso    arni-aso         pu
Then "Oh! beautiful, lovely indeed! God's child, the sun's child, called

pai-pe-lo."              Ànkephòng H. K.   apeso
not for nothing is she." Thereupon H. K.'s wife

thur-phlut-si             chehijir-phlum-phlum-lo,
rising up her full height shook out her clothes flap-flap,

ingjar-èt-dàn-lo.                               Ànke H. K.
flew away gracefully (thither whence she came). Then H. K.

ha-tovar-pèn        nàng-chethèk-dun-si,      thai-pèn
from a distant path there having watched her, bow (accus.)

jo-dun-ràng-ràng-lo.      Ànsi apeso    pu-tekàng-lo,
continually kept bending. Then his wife said on leaving him,

"Tha, tha,   mo        chiphoji."            Ànsi H. K. chiru
"Wait, wait, hereafter we shall meet again." Then H. K. weeping

chernàp   mòn-duk mòn-sa-si hèm          nàng-le-lo.
lamenting sad and sorry     at his house arrived.

Nàng-kele-pèn           cho-che     jun-je        a-oso
Immediately on arrival, not eating, not drinking, his child

nàng-chi-bu-dèt-si        ha aphi       hèm-epi     ahèm
having taken on his back, to his granny the widow's house

chedàm-phit-lo.   Ànsi dàm dàm dàm aphi       hèm-epi     ahèm
he started to go. So   going along his granny the widow's house (at)

lelo:       kele-pèn    lale  kachiru lale  kachernap
he arrived: on arriving there he wept there he lamented

matha-thek-the jadi-thèk the. Ànsi aphi       pulo-- "Hako-pèn
as you could not imagine.     Then his granny said-- "From the first

'Nàng-peso nàng-cheme-me-làng'         nàng-pulo-he;      kopusi nòn-le
'Your wife is not yet united with you' I told you verily; how    now

nàng-kelàng-ji-làng?           Nàng sining-le kopusi
will you get to see her again? You  heaven-to how

kedun-thèkji?"                   Ànke chiru-pèt àn-muchòt
will you be able to follow her?" Then weeping so much the more

cho-che    jun-je       aphi       kedàm-aling   dun-kri,
not eating not drinking his granny went-wherever following,

bar-pi          bar-so-le           kedàm-ta   hundun-kri,
outgoings-great outgoings-little-in going also he kept dogging her,

kethi      kejàng-si            kedo-po.     Ànsi    aphi       pulo:
one-dying, one-perishing (like) he remained. At last his granny said:

"H. K.  akhi lo-du-dèt-le                cho-tha:      ne mo
"H. K., food leaf (in) having wrapped up eat (imper.): I  thereafter

bidi   nàng-thàn-ji."        Ànsi akhi-lo-du             him
a plan to you will explain." Then food-in-a-leaf-wrapped bread

sàngpher     cho-lo. Ànsi aphi       bidi   thàn-lo:   "Minàp-ke
parched rice he ate. Then his granny a plan explained: "To-morrow

nàng-peso Mòn Recho  asopo nàng-kachepàngri-ji vàng-po.   Ako
your wife Mon Raja's son   there to marry      will come. Before that

nàng-hupo            àngnar-ta     nàng-làng-chinglu-ji
your father-in-law's elephant-also there in the river to bathe

vàng-po.   Lale  nàng   sàngti-arlo     chi-patu-dàm-joi-nòn;
will come. There do you sand-underneath go and hide yourself quietly;

ingnar       dàm-ji dòkdòk-lo-te,         la-arme
the elephant to go  is-making-ready-when, its tail (to)

rip-hèt-ra         nàng-poho-pèn    nàng-so
holding on tightly your-turban-with your child

che-vàm-phòng-hèt-nòn.     Lale  ingnar       nàng-arju-lo-te, 'Ne-ta
to your waist bind firmly. There the elephant you asks if,     'I also

ha ne-peso alòng   nàng-kechedun-ji'        pu-ra  pu-nòn. Ànke
to my-wife's place am going along with you' saying say.    Then

menàp     arni-kàngsàm-si  nàngtum  le-po.       Nàngke
to-morrow in the afternoon you both will arrive. Do you

làng-kung-le      dokòk-non. Ànke nàng-peso
the-river-bank-on wait.      Then your wife

làng-kepànglu-ji-aphàn              abàn-atum       asòt-atum
with-water-to-bathe-for-the-purpose her male slaves her female slaves

làng  nàng-sòk-po.     Ànke 'oso-aphàn     làng-ejoi-pèt
water will-draw-there. Then 'For the child water one draught only

ne pi-tha' pura   hàng-dun-nòn. Ànke làng  nàng-pi-lo-te
me give'   saying call out.     Then water you-give-if,

thibuk-arlo        nàng-ser-arnàn jòk-dun-thòt-nòn. Ànke nàng-phàn
the water pot-into your-gold-ring drop in.          Then for you

nàng-hàng-po:        ànke dun-nòn:      kele-pèn    nàng-sopo
there she will call: then go with them: on arriving your child

o-dàm-kòk-nòn;          ànke oso       ape-alòng
set down on the ground; then the child its mother-towards

chedàmpo."          Ànsi adàp        ingthàng-lo: chodèt       jundèt
will go of itself." So   the morning dawned:      having eaten and drunk

H. K. ha làng-kung      dàmsi       sàngti-arlo
H. K. to the river bank having gone under the sand

chipatu-dàm-joi-lo.           Ànsi ingnar       làng
went and hid himself quietly. Then the elephant in the river

nàng-chinglu-ji vànglo. Ànke chinglu-dèt   dàmji dòkdòklo.      H. K.
there to bathe  came.   Then having bathed to go it made ready. H. K.

arme     rip-dun-lòk-si,      apoho-pèn       a-so
its tail holding-on-tight-to, his turban-with his child

che-vàm-phòng-dèt-lo.     Ànsi ingnar       ha sining
tied firmly to his waist. Then the elephant to heaven flew up,

ingjar-pòn-lo,       ànsi ha    làng-kung         o-dàm-kòk-lo. Ànke
taking him with him, and  there on the river bank set him down. Then

Mòn Recho-atum-ta      H. K.  apeso-pèn asopo   nàng-kapàngri-ji-si
Mon Raja's people also H. K's wife-with his son in order to marry

Bari-the     Recho  ahèm  vànglo.        Ànsi Bari-the     Recho
great palace King's house (to) had come. Then great-palace King's

abàn-atum   asòt-atum     H. K.   apeso
male slaves female slaves H. K.'s wife

làng-kapànglu-ji-aphàn              làng  nàng-kesòk-ji vànglo. Ànsi
with-water-to-bathe-for-the-purpose water there to draw came.   Then

H. K. asopo-aphàn   làng  hàng-pi-dun-lo:      "Làng  ejoi-pèt
H. K. his child-for water begged them to give: "Water one draught only

ne-pi-tha ne-sopo-aphàn, pe-marli."     Ànsi inut-ta  pi-pe
give me   my son-for,    good mothers." Then one-even would not give

inut-ta  pi-pe.          Ànsi aphi-si sarpi        nàng-dun-lo:     ànsi
one-even would not give. Then at last an old woman came up to them: then

hàng-dun-thu-lo  H. K.-- "Làng  ejoi-pèt         ne pi-tha, pe-arnàm-pi,
called out again H. K.-- "Water one draught only me give,   good Madam,

ne-sopo aphàn." Ànsi sarpi         làng  pi-lo;    thibuk
my-child-for."  Then the old woman water gave him; the water-jar

pheroidun pelèm-pelàm-si,   H. K. ser arnàn jòk-dun-thòt-lo. Ànsi
to touch  making as though, H. K. gold ring dropped into it. So

H. K.   apeso làng-pànglu-lo:         a-ri     a-kèng
H. K.'s wife  they bathed with water: her arms her legs

chàm-èt             aphi-si sarpi-alàng-thibuk        aphu
washing-beautifully after   the old woman's water-jar her head (over)

nàng-dunglo:       ser-arnàn     nàng-klo-bup.   Ànsi H. K.   apeso
they poured there: the gold ring there fell out. Then H. K.'s wife

pulo-- "Ai! nàng chele-dun-tànglo  komàtching         alàng-thibuk ma?"
said-- "Oh! here has arrived to us whose in the world water-jar?"

pu     bisar-lo.     Ànsi inut-ta-- "Ne thibuk kali"       inut-ta--
saying she enquired. Then one--     "My jar    it is not," another--

"Ne thibuk kali"      pulo. Ànsi "sarpi a-thibuk"
"My jar    it is not" said. Then "(it is) the old woman's jar"

pu-hur-lo.     Ànsi sarpi-aphàn      pulo--     "Konàtsi nàng    bàngso
they all said. So   to the old woman she said-- "Where   did you this

arnàn kelòng-lòk?  Labàngso arlèng èn-dàm-nòn!   La-le  nàng vàn
ring  get hold of? That     man    go and fetch! Him if you  bring

thèk-the-dèt, tàngte                     nàng pràn!" pulo.     Ànsi
cannot,       then   (it is a matter of) your life!" she said. Then

sarpi         chiru   chernàp-si H. K. alòng   dàm-lo, ànsi
the old woman weeping lamenting  towards H. K. went,   and

hàng-dàm-lo--       "Ne-dun     ik-nòn:          kopi-apòtsi     'Làng
called out to him-- "With me be pleased to come: for what reason 'Water

ne pi-tha' si pu-te         ne-pràn ne-mui    ne-kapedàm-ji-le
me give'   this having said my life (doublet) me to cause to lose

matha-thuròng-ma?"             Ànsi H. K. aso       chibu-si
did you have it in your mind?" So   H. K. his child carrying on his back

dun-lo.        Kelepèn     oso     o-dàm-kòk-lo.              Ànsi
went with her. On arriving the boy he set down on the ground. Then

oso     kàt-tàng-tàng-si    ape          cherbàk    dàm-kràp-lo, ànsi
the boy running straightway his mother's lap (into) climbed up,  and

mòk        chu-lo.
her breast sucked.


Ànsi Bari-the         Recho pulo: "Ai! abidi   thèk-the-lo!
Then the great palace King  said: "Oh! a thing never seen before!

a-so-si      chi-pethe-ràp-tàng-dèt-lo-le-ma?"          Ànsi
a child-even have they got great between them already?" Then

Mòn-Recho-atum    theràk-lo     ingringlo:      mòn-duk mòn-sa    hèm
Mon-Raja's people were ashamed, were disgusted: grieved and sorry home

chevoi-lo.     Ànsi      H. K. pèn Bari-the-Recho      asopi
they returned. Then (of) H. K. and great palace King's daughter

pàngri-lo       pàngdòn-lo.
they celebrated the wedding.


Ànsi ningkàn-isi ningkàn-hini do-dun-si        tiki-lo
So   year-one    year-two     living with them he laboured in the fields

inghoi-lo,  ànsi puru-krehini     phàndar-krehini lòng-lo. Ànsi H. K.
and worked, and  granaries-twelve barns-twelve    got.     Then H. K.

apeso aphàn chipulo:        "Ai nàng pi! ili-ta      vo-phri asòn
his wife-to said privately: "O  my dear! we two also sparrows-like

vo-thung asòn e-tar  àn-ke    do,   e-thòn           an-ke    do;
doves-like    a nest at least have, a roosting-place at least have;

apòtke    chedàm-po-nàng:          ònghai        pèn anihai
therefore let us go away together: father-in-law and mother-in-law

arju-nòn." Ànsi aningve    H. K.   apeso ape        apo
ask."      So   that night H. K.'s wife  her mother her father

cherjulo:        "Ai pe     pèn po!     nàngli osa      kepu-ke:
asked privately: "O  mother and father! your son-in-law says:

'ili-ta      vo-phri asòn  vo-thung-asòn e-tar  ànke     do,
'we two also sparrows-like doves-like    a nest at least have,

e-thòn           ànke     do:   ònghai        pèn anihai
a roosting-place at least have: father-in-law and mother-in-law

arju-nòn: chedam po-nàng'--          pusi pu:    Nàngtum kopi abida-si
ask:      let us go away together'-- so he says: Ye      what order

ne phar-dun-po-ma?" Ànsi Bari-the-Recho    pulo-- "Che pe!
me will command?"   Then palace-great-King said-- "O   daughter!

lo-thui            asòn  hànthui                asòn  eboi-si      nàng
a bundle of greens like, a bundle of vegetables like, once for all you

chochòk-palar  chothèng-palar        tàng-dèt-lo-le-ma. Minàp-le
given away, or in exchange (doublet) completely I have. On the morrow

dàm-tha chidun,   mini-le dàm-tha chidun."   Ànsi apo        pu-thu-lo:
go away together, to-day  go away together." Then her father said again:

"Kopisi nàngtum kari-ma?     bàn-ma?      sòt-ma?        armo-ma?
"What   do you desire of me? male slaves? female slaves? ryots?

òkso-ma?    ser-ma? rup-ma?" Ànsi H. K. che-thàn-dàm lo:   "Ai nàngpo!
husbandmen? gold?   silver?" So   H. K. she went and told: "O  my dear!

ne-pe     pèn ne-po     kepu-ke-- 'mini-le       dàm-tha minàp-le
my mother and my father say--     'this very day go away to-morrow

dàm-tha chi-dun-ta-me;        aphuthàk, bàn-ma? sòt-ma?    armo-ma?
go away together if you like; moreover, slaves? handmaids? ryots?

òkso-ma?     ser-ma? rup-ma? Kopisi nàngtum kari-ma?' pusi pu."  Ànsi
cultivators? gold?   silver? What   do you  desire?'  they say." Then

H. K. pulo: "Thàngta  nàngne."     Ànsi adàplo.            Ànsi H. K.
H. K. said: "Anything I need not." So   it became morning. Then H. K.

anipi             pèn ahupo             ardòm-lo             ardi-lo.
his mother-in-law and his father-in-law saluted respectfully (doublet).

Ànsi ahupo             pulo: "Kopisi nangli kari-ma? bàn-ma, sòt-ma,
And  his father-in-law said: "What   do you desire?  slaves, handmaids,

armo-ma, òkso-ma,     ser-ma, rup-ma?" Ànsi H. K. pulo "Thàngta nàngne."
ryots,   cultivators, gold,   silver?" Then H. K. said "I need nothing."

Ànsi H. K. atum         pèngnànso       tàngte   asopo
So   H. K. and his wife the wedded pair and also their son

hèm chedàm-lo ànsi hèm       chile-lo. Recho  cholo      kethe
started for home and arrived there.    A king he became, a great one

cholo,     jo-arni   me,               jo-arni       the,          ànsi
he became, night and day he was happy, night and day he was great, and

arecho      akethe    thirlo.
his kingdom was great and stable.




NOTES.

This story is a much more elaborate piece of composition than the
last, and may be said to exhibit distinct marks of literary style. Its
vocabulary is copious and varied, and it makes large use of a device
which is employed in Mikir, as in Khasi, [42] to give amplitude to
the phrase by duplicating the leading words; nearly every important
term has its doublet, with the same meaning, following it.

Amehàng-kethèk-pèn-apara: amehàng-kethèk, "to see the face," is
equivalent to "being born"; pèn and apara, the latter borrowed from the
Assamese para, have the same signification, and the latter is really
superfluous. Phàk-lèng, shortened for phàk-belèng, "wild boar"; see
the explanation of the term in the notes to No. I, p.  94. Tiki-ke
inghoi-he: notice that both verbs are given in the negative form;
this is unusual.

Màn, "perquisites"; Assamese loan-word.

Kove, "betel-nut," Khasi kwai, Ass. guwa. Chidhir, "spirit," the
doublet of aràk (itself a Hindi loan-word) is perhaps the Khasi
kiad-hiar. Notice how, instead of using the ordinal numbers for
second, third, fourth, and fifth brothers, the father employs clumsy
periphrases to indicate the sequence. Phàndar, "store," Ass. loan-word
(bhandar).

A-bàn a-sòt: in this doublet the second member, sòt, properly means
"female slave"; a similar use of a word of different meaning as a
duplicate term will be found below (p. 129), where a-mèk "his eye"
is followed by a-no "his ear," the meaning being "his eyes."

Kado-kave, literally, "being-not-being," a periphrasis for "all
of them." Miso, "a black ant," used verecundiæ causâ for rèk,
"louse." Notice the idiom pe-ma-pe-lo, where the insertion of ma
between the repeated roots indicates the time during which an act
is done.

An-tàngte, "and also," literally, "so much not finished." Phere
nàng-ne: nàng is the verb of necessity, ne the negative particle:
"there is no need for fear." Promàn, "proof," Ass.

Chitu, the plant called in Assamese puroi-sak, Basella lucida; its
fruit has a red juice.

Arlèng ki-i, "a sleeping man": observe that arlèng here evidently
means a human being in general (see note, p. 4). Àn-cho-mèk-bur:
see note, p. 96. Vàng-noi; noi is a variant of nòn, imperative
particle. Chir-epàk: "one spear"; notice that the generic class-word
for flat things, pàk, is used with chir, a spear, referring of course
to the head only.

Da in Da-nàng seems to be a shortened imperative of dàm, to go. Arlu-ra
tòk-dàm-nòn: notice how arlu, usually a postposition (= up in),
becomes a verb when necessary; similarly, further on, in e-kòr
tàngdèt, kòr, "brother," is furnished directly with the suffix for
the past tense; e- and i- are used interchangeably for the pronoun
of the 1st person plural inclusive; the second is perhaps employed
when the vowel-harmony calls for it. Tòng-ràp-chòm: ràp, "to help,"
is employed as an adverbial supplement to indicate that two persons
do the same thing together; chòm is a doublet of ràp. Patèng, paju,
words for a second wife.

Bhin kali, bha kali: bhin is Ass. bahin, sister; bha, must be
Ass. bhai, brother, but is used as a doublet of bhin.

Notice the energetic reduplication of the negative in
plàng-ple-ple-le. Pinso, male, virile, "worthy of being called men."

Kopi tàng-a "what are you saying?" tànga is only used in this way as a
question, as tàngho (see above, p. 100) is used in carrying a message,
for pu, to say.

Bòr-i-dèt-si "with great difficulty"; bòr-i-bòr-a, "by hook or
by crook."

Arlen-thu-ròng, matha-thu-ròng: arlèn is "to aim at," matha "to think
about"; thu a particle meaning "again," and ròng one of the affixes
indicating the plural. Chiru-rap-jo-si: jo is an affix indicating
the plural.

Nàng-bàng-do? "are you there?" lit. "is your body (bàng) present?" Kopi
kevàng ma po? po, "father," is used as an endearing word in addressing
a son, or as here a grandson (see ante, pp. 99, 101).

Sòk is paddy, rice in the husk; sàng is rice freed from husk and
ready for cooking; àn is boiled rice; te, a verb, "to spread out
paddy to dry."

"Harlo," a verb, "to turn over" (the spread-out paddy); rèng, a verb,
of the spread-out paddy, "to become dry"; oi, a verb, "to collect into
a heap" the dried paddy. Làng-thàk nàng-dàm-si nàng-làng-dàm-ji-làng:
in this sentence the word làng, which occurs thrice, has three
different significations: the first làng is a noun, "water, river";
the second is a verb, "to see, look at"; the third làng is an auxiliary
verb, "to continue doing, or being," used here pleonastically.

Ser, rup, "gold, silver," see note, p. 111, ante. Notice the rare form
nèng for ne, "I"; nasals seem occasionally to be added or dropped at
will at the end of words: e.g. da and dàm, "go"; òng and o, "much,
many"; la and làng, auxiliary verb. Komàt-ching-a-lànghe ne: ching is
a particle strengthening the interrogative komàt,--"who-ever?" lànghe,
a ghat or watering place: ne the interrogative particle borrowed from
Assamese, = ma in Mikir.

Bari-the Recho, "king of the Great Palace"; bari, "a large house,"
loan-word from Assamese: the, "great."

Nàng-klo-èt-jo "there they descended beautifully"; klo, "to fall or
sink down from a height"; èt a syllable indicating beauty or charm;
Mr. Stack notes that it is perhaps connected with the word ètpi,
"yellow, golden"; it is also used as an affectionate form of address
in èt-mar-li, "my dears!" jo, plural affix. Kàn, a ceremonious word
for clothes; the ordinary expression is pe or ri. Sun-phit: phit
means "all at once," "suddenly." Tur, "the brightness, splendour"
(of the moon and sun).

The syllable jin in arni ingsàm-jin-lo indicates the day gradually
drawing on to evening. Apòr-lo: notice the verbal affix -lo appended
to the noun pòr, "time." Bèng, "to house animals for the night." Hijir,
"to shake out," as a bird its wings before starting to fly.

Phlum-phlum, onomatopoetic adverb imitating the sound of flapping;
i, "to put on one's clothes": a-ri kachi-i, "he is putting on his
dhoti"; pini kachi-i, "she is putting on her petticoat"; in this
sense the verb i takes lòk as its constant adverbial supplement:
when it means "to lie down," "to sleep," it takes lòt. Observe how
the distributive force of the sentence is expressed by repeating
the whole phrase. Angphun chepekèk-koi "he made his neck (ingphun)
crooked (kèk-dàng or kèk-juk)"; koi, a particle meaning "completely,
altogether." Èn "take," and kim, "build," both mean "to marry"; the
latter implies the building of a separate house for the newly wedded
couple, or perhaps the wedding bower.

Arlèng-aso: notice that here the word arlèng evidently means a human
being, opposed to arnàm-aso, the child of a divine person. Pàn,
"to cut down and clear the jungle for cultivation." Làng-ding
"continue to watch": ding a particle of continuance (cf. keding,
tall, long). Pàn-dèt pi-dèt; here pi has the sense of "to cut down"
(a tree, or something thick): so also thi. Màm, "the jungle." Further
on, in thi-ròk-re, thi means "to lie": Pisi dàk-le kethi-ròk-ma? "why
are you lying here?" ròk is an adverbial supplement.

Arche is used of sowing or planting many things together, as here:
to sow or plant only one thing is e: thèngthe ke-e, "he is sowing
maize"; sòk ke-rik, "he is sowing rice broad-cast"; sòk ke-e,
"he is transplanting rice." Mir-phèk-e: mir, "flower," phèk-e,
"rice-husks": "a flower that grows out of heaps of rice-husks;
has a long narrow leaf and a flower which is red and white mixed"
(Stack); tado, "a kind of white lily or arum with a yellow style"
(id.). Keme-thèk-the-òng puke: "so (puke) beautiful (keme) excessively
(òng) as never was seen (thèk-the)." Vàng-phlòt: phlòt: a particle
indicating suddenness. Teràn, an individual plot, as distinguished from
the rit or general field. E-kòrpo H. K. ateràn-le-ma: kòrpo, "cousin
(mother's brother's son)," also indicates the relationship between
a woman and her sister's husband; here of course it is used in the
latter sense, proleptically; it is characteristic of this story-teller
that he discloses the dénouement of his tale well in advance. Notice
the idiom -le -ma, "it must be," an indirect question = "is it not?"

Pòngsi, Ass. bansi, "a flute," made of a piece of bamboo; èt, to bore
a hole. Che-èt-o "he (cut and) bored holes in a number of flutes";
o seems to be a shortened form of òng, many: hem kim-o, "they built
a number of huts"; ne vo nàm-o-lo, "I have bought a lot of fowls."

Ju-me-òng, "it is very good to hear": ju is shortened from arju:
the prefix ar- is separable in this word and in arni, "day, sun,"
arlòng "stone," and several other words, which appear in composition
as ni and lòng, etc.; it seems probable that it is connected with the
Tibetan prefix r-, to which the Mikir relative particle, a-, has been
prefixed. Notice nitum for netum, possibly by vowel-harmony with the
following words mir and chilòk. Chilòk-pòn ningke-ma: observe that this
phrase stands both for the request and its answer--ningke, "willing";
ning, "mind";--ma is thus not only the interrogative particle, but
also indicates its corresponding affirmative reply. A-mèk, a-no,
"eyes and ears" = eyes only. Mini, menàp (minàp), alternative terms
for pini, penàp, "to-day, to-morrow."

Do-àngse-lo = do-koi-lo, "have all got."

Mòn Recho, probably shortened for Tomòn-Recho; tomòn, "wind." Rai-dun,
special verb for "to ask in marriage." Bòng, "gourd for holding
beer"; te, doublet. Thàk, "to weave." Thàn chèk, "to explain"; chèk
strengthens verbs for imparting information. Aning aròng kedo: ròng,
"delight," Ass. loan-word.

Notice again amèk ano for "eyes" only.

Tòk, a verb with the general meaning "to thrust, poke"; used already
above (p. 116) for thrusting with a spear; here for pounding the rice
with a long pestle (lèngpum) in the mortar (lòng); another sense is
"to write" ("to poke with a pen"). Sèt, "to give the half-cleaned rice
a second pounding." Dàng, "to serve up the cooked food." Be "to heat
the fermented rice"; sòr, "to press out the beer" from the grains,
mixed with warm water, which have been put in the conical strainer
of woven bamboo, si, by pressing down upon them a gourd, bòng.

Rèp seems to be a variant of ràp (explained above, p. 118), and
indicates that all of them have been married together. Chàn-jai,
"to have several children."

Pangri-re-dèt-làng-le-ma; here again two verbs each have the negative
affix, pàngri and làng, the latter an auxiliary signifying "to continue
to be." Pàngri in the sense "to marry," is the causal of ingri, "to
drink copiously of liquor"; the description of the marriage ceremony
at p. 18 shows the important part which is taken in it by alcoholic
drinks. Ingting-po, "it will be dark": observe the impersonal use
of the verb, without a substantive: we may say ajo kàngting-par,
"the night is very dark."

Nàng-làng-phròng-si-do-po; phròng is one of the particles used to
indicate plurality: "they will all be looking out for (làng) us there
(nàng)." Bòm, one of the verbs indicating continuance may be rendered
"from time to time."

A-ri su-ri-tha, a-kèng su-ri-tha: this injunction not to touch the hand
or foot of the fairy princess has different parallels in other lands;
in the Celebes version referred to on p. 72 it is the hair that is
not to be touched. Pe-re, causal of re, "to be knowing, clever." Ur,
a platform or screen for drying flesh in the sun; ràp includes also
a shelf in the house.

Krèng, to be dry, bears the same relation to rèng, dry (ante, p. 122),
as klàng (p. 99), to perceive, does to làng, to look at; in both the
prefix ke- has apparently been incorporated in the root.

Chedàm-ta-me "You can go if you like": observe the force of me,
"well, good." Che-me-me-làng: the verb me here seems to be the
Assamese mel, "agreement," not the Mikir word for "good." Observe
the idiomatic expression ningkàn isi-lo-le-ma thi, in answer to an
objection: so one says, in reply to a request for payment, ne nàng
pi-tàng-dèt-lo-le-ma-thi "but I have paid you already!" Observe that
in nàng che-me-me-la the last syllable = làng without its nasal. Aso
Arnàm pi-lo, "God gave a child": possibly this phrase is due to the
narrator, who it will be remembered was a Christian. Ti, a particle
= "not yet reconciled." De, a particle of asseveration, "indeed,"
probably the Assamese dei.

Hèt, a particle used with verbs meaning to tie, bind, in the sense of
"firmly, securely." Dut, a particle used with verbs of scratching
or cutting. Tòng, a particle indicating hurry or haste. Emoke,
"in a little time": mo, "space or interval of time," e-, particle of
unity, as in e-jòn, e-bèng. Pulèm, "to say in joke": pu, "say," lèm,
"seem, pretend." Pràn, Assamese. Pu-pa-na, "don't have to say": na,
Assamese. Nàng-ta-me, ne-ta-me, idiomatic, "it will be well with
you or it will be well with me," i.e. "either you or I will come
off the better." Dohai, "an oath"; probably the Assamese dohai,
"call for justice": seme (the Khasi smai) is also used.

Bòp, to shoot a bird or animal; àp, to let off a bow or gun.

Dòk-dòk, particles used to indicate that an event has nearly happened
(with ji, future affix). To, imperative particle borrowed from Khasi,
and prefixed, as in that language.

Pai-a-re "beside the hedge (pai)" = pai-a-kung. Cho-phi; the
Mikirs scorch (phi) every bird or animal before preparing it for
cooking. Chònghoi, reflexive form of inghoi, "to do," = "to do
by themselves." A-ri-e-hòng: hòng is the generic class-word for a
limb (see ante, p. 79). Ingthàn, "to cut up fish or flesh, whether
raw or cooked." Chingnèk reflexive of ingnèk, to laugh, "laughing
together." Chingni, reflexive of ingni, doublet of ingnèk; the verb
also means "to sit."

Puthòt-adàp-lo; puthòt, "next": cf. le-thòt in adàk-vàm a-dun-lethòt on
p. 114 above; the time-affix -lo is joined directly to adàp, "morning."

A-ràt, a-dèt, both Assamese loan-words; ràt is raiyat, "ryots," dèt,
deh, "country." Chethòr-pre, vàng-pre, are both used for "continually
coming and going, of many people"; the former expression indicates
greater numbers and frequency than the latter. Pòng-ting, "a gold drum,
worn on the breast, strung in the middle of a set of strings on which
black, coral, and gold beads are arranged in alternate rows six deep"
(Stack); in Assamese madoli. Ni, nèng, te, pinu: see the table of terms
of relationship on p. 20. Apar-ta-so-se-làng: this sentence appears to
be made up thus: apar, "greatly, much," ta, corroborative particle: so,
diminutive particle, negatived by se, làng, auxiliary verb, "continue";
the force of it, then, would be--"the effect would not be only the
poor result you see, fine though that is, but ever so much more!"

Konàt-tòng = konàt-ching, "wherever?" Kopi-athe = kopi-apòt.

Pai-pe-lo: this idiom is illustrated by the following phrases:
klèm-dàm pai-pe-lo, "he is not working gratis, for nothing"; là aklèng
pai-pe-lo, "he is not the elder for nothing"; i.e. he can do better
than his younger brothers. Ingjar-èt-dàn-lo: the element dàn gives
the force of returning to her own place whence she came. Jo, verb,
"to bend a bow," ràng, particle of continuance. Tha, "wait!" Assamese
loan-word. Pho, verb, "to touch, arrive at," as a boat comes to the
shore with chi, "to touch one another, to meet" (see p. 112, lines
1 and 2).

Akhi-lo-du; akhi, "something to eat," lo, "leaf," du, "wrap up," =
"so much food as can be wrapped up in a leaf," a morsel.

E-joi, "one draught"; joi is perhaps Ass. jol, "water." O, verb,
"to leave, set down."

Mòn Recho-atum; notice that here tum has its original sense of
"company"; "Mòn Raja's company, or following."

Pu-hur-lo: hur is one of the particles indicating plurality.

Ne dun-ik-nòn: ik, "elder brother," used as a respectful form of
address; observe its place in the compound imperative. Matha-thuròng,
lit. "you had another (thu) meaning" (viz. to make me lose my
life). Notice how -si, the mark of the conjunctive participle, is
affixed to the reported utterance of H. K. Cherbàk = che-arbàk; arbàk,
the lap or bosom; also a verb: oso karbàk, "she holds the child to
her bosom." Kràp is said to be used only of a child climbing up into
its mother's lap.

Ingring, used as homonym of theràk, "to be ashamed," also means
"to be afraid, disturbed in mind."

Cherju-lo = che-arju-lo. Phar, "to order"; nàng ne kephar aling-lo,
"as you order me"; ne phar-dun peme-sèn-lo, "I gave him careful
instructions." Bida = Ass. bidai, "leave to depart."

Che pe; notice that pe, "mother," is used as an affectionate term of
address to a daughter, exactly as po, "father," is used above to a son
or grandson. Lo-thui-hàn-thui, "a bundle of vegetables, with a leaf
wrapped round it." Chòk and thèng mean literally "to beat," but are
here jocularly used for getting rid of a person. Palar causal of lar,
"to be changed or exchanged," also apparently used jocularly of giving
in marriage.

H. K.-atum: notice the plural affix used to indicate H. K. and his
wife. Cho-lo, "he became"; this seems to be a different verb from cho,
"to eat." Notice a-recho "his kingship"; recho stands for raj as well
as raja. Thir, Ass. thir, "steady, stable."




ADDITIONAL NOTES.

Divisions of time. On p. 95, note, the divisions of the day are
given. To these may be added those of the year, as recorded by
Mr. Stack. A year is ning-kàn (cf. Lushei kum, Shö kun, "year," and
Lushei ni-kum, Thado ningkum, Shö yan-kun, "last year"). A month is
Chiklo, "moon"; but the Assamese months, which are solar divisions of
the year, not lunations, appear to be followed. The days of the month
are not generally counted, and there is said to be no week. (This
is borne out by S. P. Kay's English-Mikir vocabulary, which gives
hopta, the Hindustani hafta, as the word for "week," with ni-thròksi,
"seven days," as an alternative. In the Mikir Primer published by the
American Baptist missionaries in 1903, however, rui is said (p. 21)
to be the word for "week.")

Kechung-apòr (chung, to be cold) is the cold season. Ning-krèng (krèng,
to be dry) is the dry portion of winter. Chung-phàng-òk (chung,
cold; phàng-òk, hot), is the spring, merging into summer. Barla
is the rainy season, followed by Chung-jir-jir ("becoming cold by
degrees") autumn. The following are the names of the months, with
the corresponding Assamese names, as set down by Mr. Stack:--


        Literary form.   As pronounced in Assam.   Mikir names.

        Chaitra          Soit                      Thàngthàng
        Vaisakha         Boihag                    There
        Jyeshtha         Jeth                      Jàngmi
        Ashadha          Ahar                      Aru
        Sravana          Srabon                    Vosik
        Bhadra           Bhadur                    Jakhòng
        Aswini           Ahin                      Paipai
        Kartika          Karti                     Chiti
        Margasirsa       Marg                      Phre
        Paushya          Poh                       Phaikuni
        Magha            Magh                      Matijòng
        Phalguni         Phagun                    Arkoi


According to the Mikir Primer, however, the Mikir names (which agree
with those given by Mr. Stack) correspond with periods earlier by at
least a month, Thàngthàng being the equivalent of February, instead of
Chaitra (which begins at the vernal equinox), and the other months in
ordinary sequence (There, March, Jàngmi, April, etc.). Thàngthàng is
said by Mr. Stack to be called Chànglachòng-ròng-do, "the stay-at-home
month." There is the month in which the jungle is cut and strewn to
dry (this would agree well with the equivalent of the Primer, rather
than with Boihag, April-May, when the firing would take place). Vosik
("sprout") should indicate the month of vigorous growth, when the rains
have set in. Phaikuni seems to be borrowed from the Sanskrit Phalguni,
but does not correspond with it. The other names are not explained.

Musical instruments. A flute, pongsi, cut from a bamboo, is mentioned
on p. 128: pongsi is the Assamese bansi, the well-known instrument
of the youthful Krishna (Bansi-dhar). Other instruments known to the
Mikirs are muri, a fife; chèng, a drum; chèng-brup, the small handdrum
used by the risomar to accompany their dancing at funeral feasts;
and kum, a one-stringed fiddle. The last is made by stretching a
string made from a creeper, màngri, across a gourd, bòng, which
provides an air-chamber. It is played with a bow, kum-aliso (li,
a bow, so, diminutive particle) made of bamboo, the string of which
is a tough fibre of bamboo. (Compare the one-stringed fiddle, pena,
of the Meitheis: Meithei Monograph, p. 56.)







VII.

AFFINITIES.

    The place of the Mikirs in the Tibeto-Burman family.


Some idea of the mental equipment of the Arlengs will have been
gathered from the two preceding sections. It has been seen that,
within the limited circle of their experience, they possess a medium
of expression which may be described as adequate to their needs, well
knit together in its mechanism, and copious in concrete terms, though,
like all such languages, wanting in the abstract and general. Their
folk-tales are lively and effective as narratives, and the themes,
though probably borrowed from the great treasury of popular story
elaborated in Peninsular India, have been appropriated and assimilated
to the social conditions of the Mikirs themselves. Little has hitherto
been done to enlarge the resources of the language in the direction of
higher culture, or to use it for the expression of ideas lying beyond
the scope of the tribal life; but there appears to be no reason to
doubt that the language of the Mikirs will be found in the course of
time to be as capable of development for this purpose as the speech
of their neighbours the Khasis. [43]

The leading feature of the race, in contrast with other hill tribes
of Assam, is its essentially unwarlike and pacific character. Its
neighbours--Khasis, Kacharis, Kukis, Nagas--have for centuries
been engaged in continuous internecine strife, and their tribal
individualities have been preserved, and differences accentuated, by
the state of hostility in which each unit, however small, lived with
all adjacent peoples. The Mikirs have always, at least during the
last two centuries, been, as Major Stewart described them in 1855,
"good subjects." Numbering some ninety thousand souls, they are
extremely homogeneous, while other tribes in their neighbourhood
differ in an extraordinary manner from village to village, and
constantly tend to split up into smaller aggregates, looking on all
outsiders as enemies. No such disintegrating influence has affected
the Arlengs. Whether in North Cachar, the Jaintia Hills, Nowgong,
or the Mikir Hills, their tribal institutions, their language, and
their national character are identical, and they pursue their peaceful
husbandry in the same manner as their forefathers, raising in ordinary
years sufficient food for their subsistence, and a considerable amount
of cotton and lac for export to the plains. In these circumstances,
surrounded by warring tribes, and still nomadic in their habits
of cultivation, they have from time to time found it necessary to
place themselves under the protection of stronger peoples. It has
been mentioned in Section I. that the traditions of the race show
that they were formerly subject to the Khasi chiefs of Jaintia
and the eastern states of the Khasi Hills, and that they migrated
thence to the territory subject to the Ahom kings. [44] During their
sojourn in Khasi-land they assimilated much; dress (p. 5), ornaments
(p. 6), personal names (p. 17), methods of divination (pp. 34,
35), funeral ceremonies (pp. 38-42), memorial stones (p. 42), all
come from the Khasis, who have also contributed many words to their
common speech. Borrowings from Hinduism are equally manifest in their
language, their folk-tales, and their religion. Assamese words are
numerous in Mikir; Arnàm Kethe (p. 30) seems to be a translation of
Mahadeva; Jòm-aròng (p. 28), and the ideas linked therewith of an
after-life, are strongly impressed with a Hindu stamp.

Yet they retain, together with these borrowed features, a sufficiently
definite stock of original characteristics. Physically they differ
much from Khasi and Assamese alike. Their social fabric is based
upon clearly marked exogamous groups, with patriarchal principles of
marriage and inheritance; they call these by a Khasi name (kur), but
have no trace of the matriarchal family as known among the Khasis. They
build their houses on posts, while their neighbours, except the Kukis,
build on the ground. Their deities are of the primitive kind which is
common to all Indo-Chinese races, well known, under the name of Nats,
as the object of popular worship and propitiation in Burma.

Ever since the race has been studied, it has been noticed that it
was difficult to establish its exact place and affinities in the
heterogeneous congeries of peoples who inhabit the mountainous
region between India and Burma. This was remarked by Robinson in
1841 and 1849, by Stewart in 1855, by Damant in 1879. At the Census
of 1881 an attempt was made to bring the Mikirs into relation with
the Boro or Kachari stock; but it was seen at the time that more
must be ascertained regarding their neighbours before any final
judgment could be arrived at. Dr. Grierson, on linguistic grounds,
has classed them in the Linguistic Survey as intermediate between the
Boro and the Western Nagas. It appears to the present writer, in the
light of the much fuller information now available, that they should
be classed rather with those tribes which form the connecting link
between the Nagas and the Kuki-Chins, and that the preponderance of
their affinities lies with the latter of these two races, especially
those dwelling in the south of the Arakan Roma range, where the Chin
tends to merge into the Burman of the Irawadi Valley.

When Robinson and Stewart wrote, it was still remembered that the
Mikirs had once been settled in strength in the country (now called
North Cachar) to the immediate north of the Barail Range, and in
contact with the Angami, the Kachcha, and the Kabui Nagas; and that,
exposed as they were in this locality to the inroads of the Angamis and
the oppression of the Kachari kings, they had migrated westwards to the
territory of the Jaintia Raja in search of protection. It was noticed
in the Assam Census Report of 1881 that in this region north of the
Barail, where there are now no Mikirs, local names belonging to their
language indicated their former presence. When they lived there, they
must have been in touch with tribes belonging to the Kuki-Chin stock,
who have for centuries occupied the hill ranges to the south of the
valley of Cachar, and the mountains between that valley and Manipur.

The institutions of co-operative agriculture by the village lads
(p. 11), the bachelors' house or teràng (id.), the former custom
of ante-nuptial promiscuity (p. 19), and the traces of village tabu
resembling the Naga genna, still characterizing the annual festival of
the Ròngker (p. 43), all point to a connection with the Western Naga
tribes, rather than to affinity with the Kachari stock. From the Kuki
and Chin tribes the Mikirs are distinguished chiefly by their pacific
habits, and by the absence of the dependence upon hereditary tribal
chiefs which is so strong a feature among the former. The customs of
both races as regards the building of houses upon posts, with a hong
or open platform in front, are identical; in Major G. E. Fryer's paper
"On the Khyeng people of the Sandoway District, Arakan," published
in the Journal of the Asiatic Society of Bengal for 1875 (pp. 39,
99), a Khyeng house is figured which bears a striking resemblance to
the Mikir house. The institutions of domestic and individual life
among the Khyengs (Chins), as described by Major Fryer, especially
as regards marriage, funeral ceremonies, the disposal of the dead
(after copious feasting of friends and relatives) by cremation, the
rules of inheritance (females being wholly excluded from succession),
the treatment of disease, the propitiation of spirits, and the annual
festivals in honour of the gods who preside over man's welfare,
present the closest analogy to those of the Mikirs as set forth
in this monograph. Like the Mikirs, the Chins are divided into
exogamous groups and follow the rule of male kinship; but, like the
Mikirs also in this, the approved marriage is that between a man and
his first cousin on the mother's side. It has been noticed already
(p. 21) that the word for father-in-law (òng-hai, wife's father)
in Mikir is identical with that for maternal uncle, òng, and that
son-in-law, osa, also means nephew (sister's son). The story of "the
Orphan and his Maternal Uncles" illustrates the obligation which
lies on a lad to marry his mother's brother's daughter (see above,
p. 53). Similarly, Harata Kunwar, though but a mortal, calls his
father-in-law the Bari-the Recho ònghai (p. 147), and is spoken of by
him as osa (id.), while the fairy princesses call him cousin, kòrpo
(p. 127). The same phenomenon appears in the Kuki-Chin languages. In
Shö or Chin (Khyeng) apu means both maternal uncle and father-in-law;
so also in Lushei, pu has both meanings. The following list of words
indicating relationship in Mikir and Lushei (representing the Central
Kuki-Chins) shows how closely the two languages correspond in this
important part of their vocabulary:--


                                  Mikir.          Lushei.

    grandfather                   phu             pu
    grandmother                   phi             pi
    grandson                      su-po           tu-pa
    granddaughter                 su-pi           tu-nu
    father                        po              pa
    mother                        pei             nu
    aunt:
        father's sister           ni              ni
        mother's sister           pi-nu           nu
        father's brother's wife   ni              nu


Among all these tribes the most important index to racial connexion is
to be found in their languages. No one would now assert that language,
any more than religion, is everywhere a conclusive mark of racial
unity; immense masses of the people of India to-day speak languages
imposed upon them from without, and Aryan speech has extended itself
over many millions in whose blood nothing is due to the original
invaders from the north-west. Again, the practices of a predatory
state of society bring into the tribe slaves and wives from outside;
or, as among the Mikirs (p. 33), aliens may be accepted on equal terms
as members, thus modifying the unity of blood. On the other hand, it
would be equally unreasonable and opposed to the facts to deny that,
among such communities as the Tibeto-Burman peoples of Assam, race
and language do, constantly and in a general manner, coincide. People
who speak a tongue which is unintelligible to their neighbours are
necessarily thrown together into a unity of their own. Their ancestral
ideas and institutions, secular and religious, their tribal history,
must tend to keep them united, and perpetuate the influence of a
common origin by the fact that all outside the community are actual or
potential enemies. Language, therefore, when it coincides with tribal
separateness, is our chief guide in determining the relationship of
the hill tribes of Assam one to another.

Here another qualification is, however, necessary. The word-stock
of the Tibeto-Burman races is to a large extent identical. The same
methods of arranging the elements of the sentence, in other words the
same general principles of grammar, prevail throughout the whole family
of speech. We must, therefore, in investigating the nearer kinship
of one group to another, not be misled by linguistic resemblances
which are common to the whole stock to which both groups belong.

In comparing Tibeto-Burman languages it has been usual to choose for
examination in the first place the numerals and in the second the
pronouns. The vocabulary of nouns, adjectives, and verbs is liable to
disturbing influences which do not equally affect the simple ideas
represented by number and person. Let us begin, therefore, with the
numerals. These, so far as they are necessary for our purpose, are
as follows in Mikir:--


                    one,                isi
                    two,                hini
                    three,              kethòm
                    four,               phili
                    five,               phòngo
                    six,                theròk
                    seven,              theròk-si
                    eight,              ner-kèp
                    nine,               sir-kèp
                    ten,                kèp
                    eleven,             kre-isi
                    twelve,             kre-hini
                    thirteen, etc.      kre-kethòm
                    a score,            ing-koi
                    twenty-one, etc.    ing-koi-ra-isi
                    thirty,             thòm-kèp
                    forty, etc.         phili-kèp
                    a hundred,          pharo


Here the first thing to be noticed is that the three numerals between
six and ten are not independent vocables, but compounds; seven is six
plus one: eight is ten minus two, and nine is ten minus one. In most of
the other languages of the family this is not so; the Boro, the Naga,
and the majority of the Kuki-Chin languages all have independent words
for seven, eight, and nine. It appears to be only in the Kuki-Chin
group that we can find an analogy to the Mikir words for these three
numerals. In Anal, a language of the Old Kuki family spoken in Manipur,
seven is tak-si which seems to be identical with the Mikir theròk-si;
and in Meithei (the language of the Manipuris) eight is ni-pan,"two
from ten," and nine is ma-pan, "one from ten."

We next notice that ten is expressed by two separate words, kèp
(in ten and its multiples) and kre (in the compounds from eleven
to nineteen). So far as vocabularies have yet been published, the
only other tribes of the Tibeto-Burman family [45] which have a
word resembling kèp for ten are Maring Naga, one of the Naga-Kuki
languages, where it is chip, and Shö or southern Chin, where gip is
used for ten in the sequence thirty, forty, fifty, etc. (thum-gip,
thirty, mli-gip, forty, ngha-gip, fifty, exactly corresponding to the
Mikir thòm-kèp, phili-kèp, phòngo-kèp). The close resemblance of the
other numerals in Maring to Mikir forms is noticeable; four is fili,
five funga, and six tharuk. The other word for ten, kre, strongly
resembles the Angami kerr or kerru and the Kachcha Naga gareo;
in the Central Naga group the prefix ke- has been replaced by ta-
or te-, and the words for ten are ter, tara (Ao), taro, tara, tare
(Lhota), etc. In the Naga-Kuki group Sopvoma has chiro, Maram kero,
Tangkhul thara, etc. In the Kuki-Chin group Meithei tara is the same
word: in the Central Chin another prefix, pu-, pö-, or pa-, is used,
and we have Lai pöra, Banjogi para, Taungtha parha. There are no Boro
forms which correspond to kre, nor any much resembling kèp.

The Mikir word for twenty, ingkoi, is made up of the prefix ing-,
and koi, formerly (before the loss of the final l) kol. Kachcha
Naga has the same word, engkai, Kabui choi, koi, or kol. The word
also appears in Garo (kol), Tipura (khol), and Deori-Chutiya (kwa),
of the Boro group; Angami me-kwu, me-khi, mekko, Lhota me-kwi, mekwü,
in the West and Central Naga groups; Maram and Sopvoma (make, makei),
Tangkhul (maga), Phadeng (ma-kui), in the Naga-Kuki group, and Singpho
khun. In the Kuki-Chin languages it is very common (Meithei kul,
Siyin kul, Lai pö-kul, Shonshe ma-kul, Banjogi kul, Shö [Chin] kul,
goi). There does not appear to be any trace of this word for a score
in the Tibetan and Himalayan languages, where twenty is invariably
rendered by "two-tens." [46] The Northern Indian word kori, which
has the same meaning, has been compared with it; it is difficult,
however, to imagine borrowing on one part or the other.

In the series of tens, 30 to 90, Mikir prefixes the multiplier:
thòm-kèp, phili-kèp, phòngo-kèp, etc. The Boro group prefixes the tens
(Garo sot-bri, 40, sot-bongga, 50, sot-dok, 60, etc.). [47] The Naga
group has both systems; Angami prefixes the tens: lhi [48]-da, 40,
lhi-pangu, 50, lhi-suru, 60; Lhota and Ao suffix them: Lhota tham-dro,
30, zü-ro, 40, rok-ro, 60; Ao semur' 30, lir' 40, rok-ur' 60. In the
Kuki-Chin group the majority of dialects prefix the tens (Thado and
Lushei som-thum 30, som-li 40, etc.), and this is also the rule for
Kachcha Naga, Kabui, and Khoirao, as well as for all the languages
classed by Dr. Grierson as Naga-Kuki. But the Shö or southern Chins
not only have the same collocation as the Mikirs (thum-gip, mli-gip,
ngha-gip)--an arrangement which also obtains in Burmese,--but use
the same words. This coincidence is very striking.

The word for a hundred, pharo, bears no resemblance to any word
expressing this numeral in the Boro languages. It agrees with the
Angami kra, Kezhama kri, Sopvoma kre, and in a remarkable way with
the words used by the Southern Chins (Taungtha ta-ya = tara, Chinbòk
phya = phra, Yawdwin pra, Shö (Chin) krat). It will be seen that pha-
in Mikir, k- in the Naga languages, and ta-, ph-, p- and k- in the
Chin dialects, are numeral prefixes, and that the essential element
of the numeral is ra (Mikir ro) or rat. It appears in this form,
without any prefix, in several other Kuki-Chin languages.

Here should be mentioned a custom which obtains in Mikir of counting
by fours; a group of four is cheke or chike, which corresponds to the
Boro zakhai (jakhai). This system is used for counting such things
as eggs, betel-nuts, fowls, etc., of the same class; e.g. vo-ti chike
phòngo-ra e-pum, 21 eggs (4 × 5 + 1): chike phòngo-ra pum-thòm, 23 eggs
(4 × 5 + 3). Possibly one language has borrowed from the other. (This
method of counting by fours is common throughout the Aryan languages
of Northern India, where a group of four is called (ganda.)

Our conclusion from these comparisons is that while Mikir has few
coincidences, beyond those common to the whole Tibeto-Burman family,
with the Boro group, it has many with the Naga and Kuki-Chin groups,
and especially with the Shö or southernmost Chins.

Before leaving the numerals, something must be said of the prefixes
which they exhibit throughout the Tibeto-Burman family. Taking
first that member for which we have the oldest materials, Tibetan,
the first ten numerals are as follows:--


                     As written.   As now spoken in
                                   Central Tibet.

             one     gchig         chik
             two     gnyis         nyi
             three   gsum          sum
             four    bzhi          shi
             five    lnga          nga
             six     drug          dhuk
             seven   bdun          dün
             eight   brgyad        gya
             nine    dgu           gu
             ten     bchu          chu


Here we observe several different prefixes, once no doubt supplied
with vowels, but from the dawn of written record united in Tibetan
with the following consonant, and now no longer heard in utterance;
in the first three units the prefix is g-: in four, seven, eight,
and ten it is b-: in six and nine it is d-: and in five it is l-.

In the Tibeto-Burman languages of Assam and Burma we find the same
phenomenon of numeral prefixes; but while some languages have
the same prefix throughout the ten units, others, like Tibetan,
have several different prefixes. In some cases, again, the prefixes
have been incorporated in the numeral and are no longer recognized
as separable, while in others they may be dropped when the numeral
occurs in composition; in others, again, the prefixes have (as in
spoken Tibetan) been dropped altogether.

Of the first class the best examples are the Central Kuki-Chin
languages:--


                     Lai.       Shonshe.   Lushei.

             one     pö-kat     ma-kat     pa-khat
             two     pö-ni      ma-nhi     pa-nhih
             three   pö-thum    ma-ton     pa-thum
             four    pö-li      ma-li      pa-li
             five    pö-nga     ma-nga     pa-nga
             six     pö-ruk     ma-ruk     pa-ruk
             seven   pö-sari    ma-seri    pa-sarih
             eight   pö-ryeth   ma-rit     pa-riat
             nine    pö-kwa     ma-ko      pa-kua
             ten     pö-ra      ma-ra      shom


Of the second class Mikir, in common with most of the Assam family,
is an example; in one and two the prefix ke- (representing the
Tibetan g-) has been abraded to i- and hi-: in three it persists;
in these numbers the prefix may be dropped in composition, leaving
si, ni, and thòm remaining. In four and five we have the prefix phi-
(for pi-) and pho- (for po- or pa-), representing the b- of Tibetan,
but now no longer separable. In six the prefix the- represents the
original d-, and has similarly become inseparable. In ten, the form
kre represents an original kera, answering to the Kuki-Chin pö-ra
and ma-ra and the Meithei ta-ra. We notice that in Mikir, as in
the Naga and Kuki-Chin languages, the hard consonants k, p, t (ph,
th) have replaced the soft g, b, and d of the Tibetan. In the Boro
languages, on the other hand, the original soft consonants of Tibetan
are retained, as will be seen from the forms below:--


                     Boro.       Dimasa.   Garo.

             one     se, sui     shi       sa
             two     ni, nui     gini      gni
             three   tham        gatam     gitam
             four    brè, brui   bri       bri
             five    ba          bonga     bongga
             six     ro, do      do        dok


In these changes Mikir follows the phonetic laws obtaining in Naga
and Kuki-Chin, not those which obtain in Boro.

It has been pointed out already (p. 78) that generic determinatives are
used in Mikir when numbers are joined to nouns. This practice is common
to the Boro languages and to the Kuki-Chin group (as well as Burmese),
but does not appear to be prevalent in the Western Naga group. A list
of the words used in Darrang Kachari is given at p. 13 of Mr. Endle's
grammar; for Garo, a list will be found at p. 6 of Mr. Phillips's
grammar; it much resembles the Darrang list, but neither contains
any forms coinciding with those of Mikir except the Garo pat, used
for leaves and other flat things, which resembles the Mikir pàk. On
the other hand, in Kuki-Chin we have in Lai pum for globular things,
[49] the same as in Mikir, and in Shö (Chin) we have for persons pün,
the Mikir bàng (bàng in Mikir and pang in Lushei mean body), and for
animals zün, the Mikir jòn (Mr. Houghton's grammar, p. 20). Here
again the affinity of the Arleng is with the Kuki-Chin group, and
especially with its southernmost member, rather than with the Boro.

Turning now to the pronouns, the Mikir ne for the first person singular
finds it exact equivalent only in the two Old Kuki dialects Anal and
Hiroi, spoken in Manipur, where the corresponding pronoun is ni (Anal)
and nai (Hiroi). In Boro the form is ang, in Angami a, in Sema ngi,
in Ao ni, in Lhota a, in Kachcha Naga anui. In the majority of the
Kuki-Chin family another stem, kei or ke, is used. Here Mikir agrees
with the two Kuki dialects mentioned and with some of the Naga forms,
rather than with Boro.

For the second person singular all the Tibeto-Burman languages of
Assam have nàng, or closely similar forms.

For the third person Mikir now uses the demonstrative la, but, as the
possessive prefix shows, had formerly a. In this it agrees with Lai,
Lushei, Chiru, Kolren among the Kuki family, and Tangkhul and Maring
among the Naga-Kuki group. What the original Boro pronoun of the third
person was is not now ascertainable; the demonstrative bi (Darrang),
be (Lalung), bo (Dimasa) or ua (Garo) is now used instead. This seems
to correspond with the Mikir pe-, pi-, pa- in the words mentioned
on p. 80. In Angami the pronoun is similarly po, in Sema pa, and
in Ao pa. In Meithei and many other Kuki-Chin languages another
demonstrative, ma, is used; this may be connected with the Mikir mi,
me, in mini, to-day, menàp, to-morrow (see p. 80). But, although ma
is used as a separate pronoun for the third person in the majority
of the Kuki-Chin group, the prefixed a- of relation, usual in Mikir,
which (as explained on p. 76) is really the possessive pronoun of
the third person, is widely employed throughout the family, as a
prefix both to nouns and adjectives, in exactly the same way as in
Mikir. This coincidence, again, is striking; the Boro languages seem
to present nothing similar.

The plural pronouns in Mikir are formed by adding -tum to the
singular. Exactly the same thing takes place in Tangkhul, a Naga-Kuki
language: i, I, i-thum, we; na, thou, na-thum, ye; a, he, a-thum,
they. The plural of nouns, however, in Tangkhul is formed by other
affixes, generally words meaning "many" (cf. the Mikir òng).

Mikir has two forms for the pronoun of the first person plural,
according as the speaker includes the person addressed or excludes him,
i-tum or e-tum in the former and ne-tum in the latter case. The first,
it will be seen, agrees with the general word for we in Tangkhul. In
Angami also two forms are used, he-ko for we exclusive, and a-vo for
we inclusive; the former seems to agree in form, though not in sense,
with the Mikir e-tum. The affinity of Mikir with the Western Naga
and Naga-Kuki languages seems to be exemplified here also. The Boro
languages have not the double form for this person.

The reflexive pronoun or particle in Mikir, che (see p. 80),
is represented in Thado Kuki by ki, which is perhaps the same
word. Angami has the, Meithei na. Boro does not appear to possess
any corresponding particle.

The interrogative particle -ma in Mikir (p. 80) is mo in most of the
Kuki-Chin languages (in some -em, -am), while in Angami it is ma,
and in Kachcha Naga me. The same particle (ma) is used in Garo and
Boro for questions.

Two particles are used in Mikir as suffixes to magnify or diminish
the root-word; the augmentative is -pi (as thèng, wood, firewood,
thèngpi, a tree; làng, water, làngpi, the great water, the sea),
the diminutive is -so (as hèm, a house, hèmso, a hut; làng-so, a
brook). Boro has -ma for the augmentative, -sa for the diminutive
(dui-ma, great river, dui-sa, brook); but Meithei and Thado have the
same particles as Mikir, -pi and -cha (ch is equivalent to s).

The Mikir suffix -po, feminine -pi, corresponding to the Hindi -wala
(see several examples on p. 12 ante), seems to be identical with
the Meithei -ba (-pa) and -bi (-pi), though it has nothing like the
extensive use in Mikir which -ba (-pa) has in Meithei.

The noteworthy separable prefix ar- in Mikir, which is probably
connected with the Tibetan prefix r- (see ante, p. 129, note), appears
to occur in the Kuki-Chin languages, but does not seem to have any
representative in the Boro family. The examples in the Kuki-Chin volume
of the Linguistic Survey are found in Rangkhol (p. 6, er-ming, "name"),
Aimol (p. 215, ra-mai, "tail," Mikir arme), Kom (p. 245, ra-mhing,
"name"; ra-nai, "earth, ground" [nai perhaps = Mikir le in lòng-le]),
Kyaw or Chaw (p. 254), and Hiroi (p. 282). All these forms of speech
belong to the Old Kuki group, which has already yielded several other
analogies with Mikir.

The prefix ke- (ki-, ka-), which plays so important a part in Mikir
(see pp. 77, 83, 84) in the formation of adjectives, participles,
and verbal nouns, and answers to the Boro ga- and the Angami ke-,
has for the most part disappeared from the Kuki dialects, perhaps
because it conflicts with the prefixed pronominal stem of the first
person, ka-. It survives, however, in the three Old Kuki languages,
Kom, Anal, and Hiroi. In Tangkhul, of the Naga-Kuki group, it is used
exactly as in Mikir, to form adjectives and verbal nouns, e.g.:--


                             Mikir.    Tangkhul.

                 to come     ke-vàng   ka-va (to go)
                 to eat      ke-cho    ka-shai
                 to remain   ke-bòm    ka-pam (to sit)
                 to beat     ke-chòk   ka-sho
                 to die      ke-thi    ka-thi


The particles used in Mikir as suffixes to indicate tenses of the verb,
with the exception of that for the completed past, tàng, which appears
to be identical with the Thado and Lushei ta, do not seem to have any
close analogues in the Kuki-Chin or Naga-Kuki groups; they are also
quite different from those used in the Boro group. Causative verbs,
however, are in many Kuki-Chin languages constructed with the verb
pe or pèk, "to give," as in Mikir; and the suffix of the conjunctive
participle in Mikir, -si, is perhaps the same as -chu in Khoirao. In
Boro the prefix fi-, answering to the Mikir pi-, was formerly used
to form causatives, as appears from verbal roots in current use;
the construction now most common uses -nu, which has the same meaning
("to give") as a suffix.

The negative verb in Mikir is formed by suffixing the particle -e to
the positive root, when the latter begins with a vowel. Similarly,
in Boro a negative verb is formed by adding the particle -a. In the
Kuki-Chin languages different suffixes are employed (lo, lai, loi,
mak, ri), and in a few dialects prefixes. Here Mikir resembles Boro
rather than the Kuki group. But the remarkable feature of Mikir
in reduplicating initial consonants before the suffixed negative
(see ante, p. 85) has no analogy in either family, unless the
isolated example in Kolren (an Old Kuki dialect) quoted in the
Linguistic Survey, vol. III., part iii., p. 19, supplies one. It
is to be observed, however, that in the construction there cited
(na-pe-pèk-mao-yai, "did not give"), the verb pèk has suffixed to it
the negative particle mao, and that the reduplication alone appears
to have no negative force. Other examples seem necessary before the
rule of reduplication can be considered to be established. Possibly
loi and lai in Kuki correspond to the separate Mikir negative ka-li
(see ante, p. 86).

It remains to give some examples of correspondence in general
vocabulary between Mikir and other Tibeto-Burman languages. It has
been shown above from the analysis of the numerals that prefixes play
a large part in all these languages. These prefixes, which to some
extent are interchangeable, and also differ in the different members
of the family, have to be eliminated in order to find the roots which
are to be compared. Again, certain changes in vowels and consonants
between different languages regularly occur. Our knowledge is not
yet sufficient to enable a law of interchange to be formulated; but
the following conclusions seem to be justified. In vowels, Mikir has
a preference for long o where other languages have -a, especially in
auslaut; [50] on the other hand long a in Mikir is sometimes thinned
down to e; the word recho, answering to the Aryan raja, is an example
of both processes. Long i in Mikir often corresponds to oi and ai, as
well as to e and ei, in the cognates. As regards consonants, nasals at
the end of syllables are often rejected; thus within Mikir itself we
have o and òng, da and dàm, ne and nèng, la and làng. Some languages
(as for instance Angami [51] Naga) tolerate no consonantal endings,
not even a nasal. In Mikir itself final l has been vocalised into
i or dropped; and in many Naga and Kuki-Chin dialects (as also in
Burmese) final consonants have disappeared or have suffered great
changes. As already noticed, the surd mutes k, p, t (sometimes
aspirated) have taken the place of the original sonants g, b, d to
a large extent in Mikir, though b and d (not g) still survive in a
fair proportion of words. Boro generally retains the old sonants of
Tibetan, and Meithei uses both classes according to the adjacent
sounds. The palatals ch, j of Mikir tend to become sibilants, s,
ts, z, in the cognate languages; j is also often softened to y in
Kuki-Chin. L and r in anlaut frequently interchange in Meithei, the
interchange depending on the adjacent vowels. These letters also
interchange freely in other languages of the family. In Burmese r
has everywhere been changed to y, except in Arakan. L and n also
often interchange. Initial d in Mikir seems sometimes to correspond
to l in other cognates; and it is possible that Mikir initial s may
occasionally be represented by h in the latter, though this is not
quite certain. Th and s often interchange in anlaut, some dialects of
Kuki-Chin showing the intermediate stage of [theta], which in Burmese
now everywhere replaces original s.

Lastly, it should be noticed that Tipura, an outlying member of the
Boro group, often exhibits a sound system more closely corresponding
to that of the Kuki-Chin languages (which are its neighbours) than
Boro, Dimasa, or Garo.

The resemblances in vocabulary between Mikir and the Western Naga
dialects are extensive, as will be seen from the list (due to
Mr. A. W. Davis) at p. 201, vol. III., part ii., of the Linguistic
Survey. These need not be repeated here. The following is a list of
Boro (Darrang), Dimasa, Garo, and Tipura words which seem to correspond
with Mikir. It will be seen, however, by reference to the columns
headed Kuki-Chin and Naga (including Naga-Kuki), that in the case
of nearly all these words the other two families, as well as Mikir,
have the same roots. They therefore belong to the common stock of the
Tibeto-Burman languages of Assam, and do not by themselves prove any
close connection of Mikir with Boro.




NOUNS.

English.   Mikir.       Boro         Kuki-Chin.      Naga.
                        family.

nose       nokàn        Garo,        Meithei         Tangkhul
                        nukum,       natol (n)       natung
                        nakung       Thado nakui     Angami a-niki
                        Tipura,      Lushei nhar     E. Naga
                        bukung                       nakong,
                                                     natong
eye        mèk          Boro megan   Meithei }       Ang. mhi, mhü
                        Dimasa mu    Thado   } mit   Tangk. mik
                        Garo         Lushei  }       Maram mek
                        mik-ren      Shö (Chin)      E. Naga
                                     mik             mik, mek
mouth      ing-ho       Boro         Lushei ka       Ang. tha,
                        khu-ga       Khami kha       me-tha
                        Dimasa khau  Shö kho         Rengma
                        Garo                         màng-khòng
                        ho-tom,
                        ku-sik
tooth      so           Boro         Andro sho       Ang. ho, hu
                        ha-thau      Sengmai shoa    Sema a-hu
                        Dimasa id.   Thado  } ha
                                     Lushei }
                                     Shö haw
ear        no           Garo         Meithei } na    Ang. nü
                        na-chil,     Lai     }       Lhota en-no
                        na-kal       Shö a-nho       Maring ka-na
face       me-hàng      Boro         Meithei mae
                        makhàng      Lushei hmai
                        Garo
                        mikkang
                        Tipura
                        mukhàng
belly      pòk          Dimasa ho    Meithei puk     Ang. va
                        Garo ok,     Andro puk       Sema a-pfo
                        pi-puk       Shö puk         Lhota o-pòk
                        Tipura       Lai paw
                        bahak        Thado wai
father     po           Boro   } fa  Meithei }       Ang. po
                        Dimasa }     Lushei  } pa    Sema pa
                        Garo pa, ba  Thado   }       Ao ta-ba
                        Tipura ba    Sengmai }       Lhota o-po
                                     Khami   } po
                                     Shö     }
son        so-po        Boro f'sa    Meithei } chapa Lhota o-tsöe
                        Dimasa       Thado   }       Maring cha
                        pasa, sa     Khami chopo     Hatigoria
                        Garo sa,     Shö cho         chapa
                        pi-sa
                        Tipura basa
daughter   so-pi        Dimasa       Meithei
                        pu-su        cha-(anu)-pi
                                     Khami
                                     numpui-cho
cat        mèng,        Garo         Thado meng-cha
           mèng-kalu    mèng-go
                        Tipura       Ranghkhol
                        a-ming       meng
                                     Shö min
iron       ingchin      Boro shurr   Andro sen, sel  Ang. the-zhi
                        Dimasa sher  Lushei thir     Yachumi
                        Garo         Thado } thi     inchi
                        sil, sar     Shö   }         Thukumi ise
                        Tipura sir   Khami sing




ADJECTIVES.

   English.         Mikir.         Boro family.   Kuki-Chin.    Naga.

   big              kethe          Boro gadet                   Ang.
                                                                kedi
   small            kibi, bi-hèk   Boro gahai     Meithei
                                                  a-pisek
   bitter           keho           Boro gakha     Lushei kha
                                                  Meithei kha-ba
                                                  Thado a-kha
   cold             ke-chung       Boro gazang    Lushei shik
   beautiful        mesèn, me      Boro mozang    Lushei moi




VERBS.

go           dàm    Boro   }                        Ang. ta
                    Dimasa } thàng                  Sopvoma ta-o
                    Tipura }                        Maring ta-so
come         vàng   Boro   }                        Ang. vor
                    Dimasa } fai                    Kwoireng } pa-lo
                    Tipura }                        Maram    }
eat          cho    Boro za         Meithei cha-ba  Ang. chi
                    Dimasa ji       Khami cha       Kwoireng tyu-lo
                    Garo cha, sa    (Burmese        Tangkhul ka-shai
                    Tipura cha      cha, tsa)
beat         chòk   Dimasa shu                      Tangkhul ka-sho
die          thi    Boro thoi       Meithei si-ba   Ang. sa
                    Dimasa ti, thei Thado thi       Sema ti
                    Garo ti, si,    Lushei ti       Sopvoma thiye
                    tai             Khami dei       Maram tei-lo
                    Tipura thai                     Tangkhul ka-thi
run          kàt    Boro khat       Meithei chatpa  Tangkhul ka-chat
                    Dimasa khai     (?) (to go)
                    Garo kat        Andro kat-e
say          pu     Boro bung                       Ang. pu
do, work     klèm   Boro khlàm
think        matha  Boro mithi
be necessary nàng   Boro nàng       Lushei ngai
                    Garo nàng


The above list exhibits all the coincidences which could be found on a
search through the vocabulary appended to Mr. Endle's Kachari grammar,
and it will be seen that the agreement is not extensive.

The words in which Tibeto-Burman languages agree most widely with one
another are perhaps those for water and village; for the former di,
ti, tui, dzü, zu, ji, chi, and other similar forms, all apparently
identical with the Tibetan chhu and the Turki su, run through the whole
family: for the latter khul, khu, ku (Turki ku, kui) are similarly
widespread. It is somewhat surprising to find in Mikir an exception
to the general rule. Water is làng, and village is ròng. Searching
through the tribal vocabularies, Tangkhul Naga (a Naga-Kuki form of
speech) appears to have, in ta-ra, the corresponding word to làng (r
= l, and ta a prefix). Nowhere else in the neighbourhood is there a
trace of a similar word until we come to Burmese, where water is re
(now pronounced ye). Similarly, it appears to be only in Burmese
that we have a word for village, rwa, corresponding to the Mikir
ròng. These coincidences, like others already mentioned, seem to
point to the south for the affinities of the Mikir race. At the
same time it is to be observed that Mikir appears once to have had,
like the Kuki-Chin languages generally, the word ti for water. This
survives in the word for egg, vo-ti, which must mean "fowl's water,"
and corresponds in sense to the Boro dau-dui, Chutiya du-ji, Garo
do-chi, Shö (Chin) a-tui. In Angami and Lushei "fowl" is omitted,
and the word for "egg" is merely dzü, tui, = water. [52]

It would be tedious to enumerate the coincidences in vocabulary which
are found between Mikir and all the Kuki-Chin dialects. We have had
reason to expect that these coincidences will be found to be most
numerous with the Chin languages spoken in the Southern Hill tracts
to the west of the Irawadi Valley; and the following list of similar
words will show that this expectation is borne out by the facts. In
most cases the forms in Lushei, a leading language of the Central
Kuki-Chin group, are added; where they are wanting the Mikir word
does not appear to have any corresponding form in that language. [53]




NOUNS.

English.              Mikir.             Chin (Shö).

male (of man)         pinso              pa-tho (Lushei pasal)
female (of mankind)   -pi suffixed       -nü [54] suffixed (L. nu, and
                                         pui)
body                  bàng               a-pün (L. pàng)
corpse                aru                ayo (L. ruang)
face                  mehàng             hmoi-san (L. hmai)
nose                  no-kàn             hnut-to (Meithei na-ton, L.
                                         hna)
ear                   no                 a-hno
eye                   mèk                a-mi, mik (L. mit)
[tear                 amèk-kri           a-mi-khli]
tongue                de                 le (L. lei)
mind, breast, heart   ning               a-mlüng (L. lung)
[angry                a-ning-kethi       a-mlüng-thö (L.
                                         thi-n-lung-sha)]
back                  nung               a-hling (L. hnung)
arm                   phàng              bawn (L. bawn)
foot, leg             kèng               khön or khö (L. ke, Burmese
                                         khyè)
stomach               pòk                pük
[stomach-ache         pòk-keso           pük-tho]
hair of body          ang-mi             a-hmaw (L. hmul)
bone                  re-pi              yo'' (Lushei ruh, Angami ru)
tail                  ar-me              ho-me (L. mei)
old man, chief        sar, sarpo         hsan, hsan-bo
son                   oso, so-po         hso (Burmese sa [[Greek:
                                         theta]a])
tiger                 te-ke              a-kye (L. sa-kei, Burmese
                                         kya)
cow                   chainòng           hsaw-nü (L. se-bawng)
pig                   phàk               wök, wo (Burmese wak)
squirrel              karle              a-hle (L. the-hlei)
rat                   phiju              pha-yü (L. sa-zu)
bird                  vo                 wu (L. va)
kite                  vo-mu              a-hmu (L. mu)
parrot                vo-kèk             a-kye (L. va-ki, Burmese kye)
bat                   vo-arplàk          phalauh
crayfish, prawn       chekung            kye-khön (L. kai-kuang)
scale of fish         lip                lit (L. hlip)
louse                 rèk                hèk (L. hrik)
land-leech            ingphàt            a-wot (L. vang-vàt)
sun                   ar-ni              kho-ni (L. anni, ni)
moon                  chi-klo            khlo (L. thla)
night                 a-jo               yan (L. zan, jan)
rain                  ar-ve              yo-o (L. ruah, Burmese rwa)
fire                  me                 me (L. mei)
[a flint for          me-chèt a-lòng     me-kha-lün (L. mei-lung),
striking fire         i.e.               fire-spark-stone]
                      fire-spark-stone
smoke                 mihi               me-khü (L. mei-khu)
steam                 hi                 a-hu (L. hu)
stone                 ar-lòng            a-lün (L. lung)
rice                  sàng               saung
vegetables            hàn                awn (L. an)
house                 hèm                in (L. in, Burmese im)
wood, tree            thèng, thèngpi     then'' (L. thing)
leaf                  lo                 law (Meithei la, Thado na, L.
                                         hna)
fruit                 a-the              the (L. thei)
seed                  a-the              se
cotton                phelo              phoi
broom                 ar-phèk            pha-phe
iron                  ingchin            n'thi (L. thir)
arrow                 thai               a-thaw (L. thal)
bow                   thai-li            a-li (L. thal-ngul)
boat                  te-lòng            hmlu or hmlü (L. long)
earring               no-thèngpi         na-thong
basket                tòn                tawng
dream                 màng               maung (L. mang)
name                  mèn                a-mín (L. hming)
matter, affair        hormu              a-hmu (Burmese id.)
heap                  bui                a-pün (L. vung, bum)
place                 dim                awn-dün
edge, border          a-pre              a-pe
rope                  a-ri               a-yöh (L. hrui)
handle                be                 bi'' (to take, seize), (L.
                                         bèng)


Verbs.

  to pour out          bu, bup    bauk, bo (L. buak, [55] bun)
  to put               bi         bi (to clap, pat)
  to jump              chòng      dong (L. zuang)
  to die               thi        dü, di (L. thi
  to kill by cutting   thu        thük, tük
  to pound             tòk        dut''
  to open              ing-pu     hü
  to sleep, lie down   i          i'' (Burmese ip)
  to hinder            khàng      kha
  to fall              klo, kli   klauk (Burmese kra, L. tla, tlak)
  to grind             koi-i      kluk
  to be bitter         ho         kho (L. kha)
  to bend              kekèk      kòk-lök, khü-i
  to tie, fasten       kòk        khun
  to laugh             ing-nèk    hlek; also noi (Meithei nok, L. nui)
  to arrive, hit       le         leng
  to be distant        he-lo      hlo (L. hla)
  to get, obtain       lòng       lö-e
  to lick              ing-lèk    m-le-e (L. liak, hliao)
  to be happy          me         moi
  to extinguish        pe-mèp     hmyit (L. ti-mit)
  to smell             ing-nim    nan (L. hnim)
  to be yellow         èt         oi (L. eng)
  to speak             pu         pauh (a word, language)
  to give              pi         pèk (L. pèk, pe)
  to be full           plèng      ple
  to reach, touch      pho        pho (L. pawh, phak)
  to pull out          phu        phuk (L. phoi)
  to work, labour      sai        saih
  to wash              chàm       shau (L. shuk)
  to beat              chòk       shö
  to pierce            chàng      shün, hsün (L. chhun)
  to begin             chèng      si
  to explain           thàn       hsin
  to be wet            chàm       so
  to know, perceive    thèk       thàk, the
  to be fat            ing-tu     thau (L. thao)
  to itch              ing-thàk   thauk (L. thak)
  to rise, get up      thur       thö, thü (L. tho, thawh)
  to send              toi        tho
  to weave             thàk       to-tàk (L. tah)
  to rot               thu        thü (L. toih)
  to be sweet          dòk        tü-i
  to cover, veil       up, òp     ün'' (L. hup)
  to throw             var        wo'' (L. vorh)
  to hear              ar-ju      yauk
  to sell              jòr        yi'' (L. zuar)


A few words from Lushei may be added, for which Southern Chin does
not appear to possess corresponding terms:--


           English.              Mikir.     Lushei.

           buffalo               chelòng    cheloi
           bear                  thòk-vàm   sa-vom, vom [56]
           deer (sambhar)        thi-jòk    sa-zuk
           snake                 phi-rui    ma-rul, rul
           monkey                me-sàng    zawng
           frog ("the jumper")   chòng-ho   chung-u
           mosquito              timsik     tho-shi
           water-leech           ing-lit    hlit, sai-hlit
           crab                  chehe      chak-ai
           devil                 hi-i       huai


These close and numerous correspondences between Mikir and the
Kuki-Chin family appear to warrant the conclusion that the former
is intimately connected with the latter. The institutions of the
southern tribes, as already pointed out, confirm this conclusion;
and it may be asserted with some confidence that no such extensive
affinity can be proved between Mikir and the Boro family. As regards
the Western Nagas, while the institutions largely correspond, the
coincidences in language, though more numerous than those with Boro,
are much fewer than those with Kuki-Chin. The Southern Nagas, and
especially the Tangkhuls, who form the group intermediate between Naga
and Kuki, have a considerably closer affinity with Mikir. Possibly
if the inquiry were pushed further into Burmese than is within the
power of the present writer, more correspondences with Mikir might
be discovered in that language.







BIBLIOGRAPHY.


1. A descriptive account of Asam, with a sketch of the local geography,
and a concise history of the Tea-plant of Asam, to which is added a
short account of the neighbouring tribes, exhibiting their history,
manners and customs, by William Robinson, Gowhatti Government Seminary:
Calcutta, 1841. Account of the Mikirs at pp. 308-312.

The facts stated agree generally with those recorded by Mr. Stack. The
chief deity of the Mikirs is called Hempatin. This may be a
mistranscription for Hemphu, but is more probably a mistake due to a
confusion between Mikirs and Kukis; Patin (or a closely similar form)
is the word for God in a number of the Kuki dialects (Khongzai, Thado,
Lushei, Rangkhol, Aimol, Kolren, etc.). Of course if the name Hempatin
was ever actually used by the Mikirs for their chief tribal god, this
would be an additional important evidence of a connexion between them
and the Kukis.

2. Notes on the languages of the various tribes inhabiting the Valley
of Asam and its mountain confines, by Wm. Robinson, Inspector of
Government Schools in Asam. Journal of the Asiatic Society of Bengal,
vol. xviii. (1849).

The Mikir language is treated at pp. 330-336. It is probable from
certain indications that the Mikir words were written down for
Mr. Robinson in Assamese characters, and transliterated by him into
Roman. There are a great many misprints. The declension of nouns, the
distinctions of gender, and the position of adjectives are in general
correctly explained; but the important prefix a- is not noticed, nor
its original force understood. The omission of the plural affix -tum is
remarkable. The numerals agree with those of the present day, save that
ch is used (as in Assamese) to indicate s. The use of determinative
class-words with numerals is mentioned. The personal pronouns are in
part correctly, but often wrongly given; the demonstrative pronouns
are wrongly stated, and so are the interrogatives. The absence of
a relative pronoun, and the substitute for it, are noticed. In
the verbal forms there are many errors, unless the particles
used to indicate time have greatly changed since 1849, which is
improbable. Thus, -ye is given as the future suffix instead of -ji,
and -bo instead of -po. The participle in ke-, ki-, ka- is omitted,
and the much-used conjunctive participle in -si is misrepresented as
the present participle. There is no mention of the past in tàng; ayok
(possibly a mistranscription of the Assamese) is given instead of apòt
as the particle indicating purpose. The form of the negative verb is
altogether misunderstood. There is no mention of the causative in pe-,
pi-, pa-.

One interesting point in Mr. Robinson's grammatical sketch is that
words borrowed from Assamese, which now end in -i as a substitute
for Assamese l, as hai for hal, tamoi for tamol, pitoi for pitol,
are all written with l; and in the following cases final l appears
in Mikir words now written with final i:--


        ingkol, a score, now ingkoi
        inghol, to do, now inghoi
        sal (field-) work, now sai
        aphel, afterwards, now aphi
        phurul, snake, now phirui


It seems possible that this represents a real change in pronunciation,
since l was certainly the original ending in the borrowed words, and
most probably (from the similar forms in the Kuki-Chin languages)
was the original ending in the Mikir words. This vocalization of
final l is quite common in the Kuki dialects, and is an additional
argument for their connexion with Mikir.

3. Travels and adventures in the Province of Assam, by Major John
Butler: London, Smith, Elder & Co., 1855. The Mikirs are described at
pp. 126-139. Major Butler was in charge of the district of Nowgong,
and visited the Mikir Hills in 1848. His notes on the Mikir people
are not very detailed, but indicate that their condition sixty years
ago was much the same as it is now. On the question of polygamy
(see ante, p. 19), he writes (p. 138): "Polygamy is not practised,
and they reproach their countrymen of the plains for having adopted
the Assamese custom."

4. Notes on Northern Cachar, by Lieut. R. Stewart. J.A.S.B.,
vol. xxiv. (1855), pp. 582-701. This treatise is an excellent account
of the various tribes inhabiting the tract. The Mikirs are dealt with
at pp. 604-607. There is a full and useful comparative vocabulary at
pp. 658-675 of more than 400 words, besides verbal and adverbial forms,
in Manipuri, Hill Kachari (Dimasa), New Kuki (Thado), Angami Naga,
Arung Naga (or Empeo), Old Kuki (Bete), and Mikir. This is much the
most important evidence of the state of the language half a century
ago, and is superior in several respects to the materials collected
a little earlier by Robinson (to which Stewart does not refer). The
Mikir words are generally recognisable as identical with those of
the present day, and it is noticeable, with reference to the change
of final l to i, that Stewart gives the forms now in use (pitoi,
brass, pheroi, snake, ingkoi, a score, in(g)hoi, to do). The verbs
are chiefly given in the imperative, with nòn (often wrongly printed
not), sometimes as the bare root, and sometimes with -lo added. There
are some good measurements and other physical characters of Mikirs
at pp. 690-693, from which it appears that in Lieut. Stewart's time
most of the Mikir men shaved their heads, with the exception of a
large tuft of hair on the scalp.

5. Descriptive Ethnology of Bengal, by Col. E. T. Dalton: Calcutta,
1872. There is a brief section on the Mikirs at pp. 53-4, which however
contains no information that is not in Robinson or Stewart. The race
is not among those figured in the volume.

6. Specimens of the Languages of India, collected by Sir George
Campbell: Calcutta, 1874. The specimens of Mikir are at pp. 205-217;
they are full of misprints and misunderstandings of what was desired,
and are worthless for linguistic purposes.

7. A Vocabulary in English and Mikir, with sentences illustrating
the use of words, by the Rev. R. E. Neighbor, of Nowgong, Assam:
Calcutta, 1878.

A most useful publication.

8. Notes on the Locality and Population of the Tribes dwelling between
the Brahmaputra and Ningthi Rivers, by G. H. Damant. Journal of the
Royal Asiatic Society, vol. xii., 1880, pp. 228 ff.

A posthumous work (Mr. Damant was killed in the Naga Hills in
1879). The Mikirs are mentioned on p. 236, and there is a short
vocabulary on p. 254.

9. A Statistical Account of Assam, compiled by J. S. Cotton under
the direction of W. W. Hunter: London, 1879. Contains an article on
the Mikirs at vol. ii., pp. 188-190.

10. A Gazetteer of India, by Sir W. W. Hunter, London. First edition
1881, second edition 1886. Article on the Mikir Hills and their
inhabitants.

11 to 13. The next occasions on which the tribe was dealt with were in
the Reports of the Censuses of 1881, 1891, and 1901 (Assam Province):--

11. The Report on the Census of 1881 (Calcutta, 1883) contains a
chapter (VI.) on Castes and Tribes, written by Mr. Stack. The Mikirs
are described at pp. 77-82. The inquiries on which these paragraphs
were based were followed by the more detailed investigations which
afforded the materials for the present monograph.

12. The Report on the Census of 1891, by Mr. E. A. Gait, reproduces
part of the matter of the previous report relating to the Mikirs,
and adds the detailed list of kurs or exogamous divisions already
referred to (ante, pp. 23 ff.). It also contains an interesting
comparison of the Mikir language with those of the Naga tribes, by
Mr. A. W. Davis (reproduced in the Linguistic Survey, vol. iii., part
ii., pp. 198-202). At pp. 254-256 there is an account of the Mikirs in
North Cachar by Mr. E. C. Baker, sub-divisional officer, which states
that their principal deity is called "Pertart Rijie." This is correctly
Pirthàt Recho, the first word being the Khasi Pyrthat,"thunder,"
and indicates a borrowing by the small remaining Mikir population in
North Cachar of the ideas of their Khasi neighbours.

13. The Report on the Census of 1901, by Mr. B. C. Allen: Shillong,
1902. A few remarks on the religion of the Mikirs will be found at
pp. 46-47, which however require correction by the more accurate data
contained in this monograph.

14. The Tribes of the Brahmaputra Valley, by Lt.-Col. L. A. Waddell,
I.M.S.: J.A.S.B., vol. lxix., part iii., 1900. This account is chiefly
based on anthropometrical data. The facts stated concerning the Arlengs
at pp. 29-35 appear to be taken from Dalton and the Assam Census
Reports of 1881 and 1891. The measurements taken by Col. Waddell
(see ante, p. 4) are at pp. 78-79. The tribe is not figured in the
plates appended to the paper.

15. Linguistic Survey of India, vol. iii., part ii., compiled and
edited by Dr. G. A. Grierson, Calcutta, 1902. The Mikir language is
dealt with at pp. 380-410 and 432-448.

16. An English-Mikir Vocabulary, with Assamese Equivalents, to which
have been added a few Mikir phrases, by S[ardoka] P[errin] Kay:
Shillong, Govt. Press, 1904. An extremely useful book by an educated
Mikir (see Introductory Note, p. viii.). Sardoka was Mr. Stack's
chief authority on the Mikir language. The phrases (388 in number)
are very important illustrations of the structure of the speech. The
vocabulary is an enlargement of Mr. Neighbor's work (No. 7).

A Mikir-English dictionary or vocabulary is still a desideratum.



The following is a list of all the publications in the Mikir language
which have come under the notice of the writer. They are all due
to missionaries.

1. Dhorom Arnàm aphràng ikithàn: First Catechism, in Mikir (Assamese
character), pp. 13. Anon. Sibsagar, 1875.

2. Arlèng Alàm, a Mikir Primer, by Miss E. Pursell, 1891.

3. Arlèng Alàm (Plipli-akitàp) [57] A Mikir Primer. Anon. Published
by the American Baptist Mission, Tika, Nowgong, Assam, 1903.

4. Arlèng Alàm, Angbòng akitàp. Mikir Reader, second book, by the
Rev. J. M. Carvell and Thengkur Pandit. Published by the Government
of Assam, Shillong, 1904.

5. Arlèng kalakha akitàp. Mikir Primary Arithmetic, by the
Rev. P. E. Moore and the Rev. J. M. Carvell. Published by the Assam
Secretariat Press, Shillong, 1904.

6. Birta Keme, "Glad Tidings," in Mikir, by Mosendra Pandit and
Missionaries to the Mikirs. Published by the American Baptist
Missionary Union, Tika, Assam, 1904. A summary of the Gospel history
and teaching.

(All except the first are in the Roman character.)







NOTES


[1] The record of these travels, under the name Six Months in Persia
(two vols.), was published in 1882; "A really clever and trustworthy,
readable, book," was the judgment on it of the late Sir Frederic
Goldsmid--the best of all judges.

[2] See Bibliography, No. 7.

[3] See Bibliography, No. 15.

[4] I must apologize for the misdescription of these gentlemen at
pp. 44 and 70, as of the American Presbyterian Mission.

[5] This is the official spelling. The real name is Kala-jwar,
pronounced Kola-jor (or zor), which means "black fever."

[6] It has been asserted that Arlèng means properly only a Mikir
man, not a man in general, who would be called monit or munit. This,
however, is opposed to usage as exemplified in the folk-tales collected
by Mr. Stack, and to well-established parallels found elsewhere. Thus,
in Assam, Mande (= man) is the national name of the Garos; Chingpho
(= man) is the tribal name of the race so called in the Upper Dehing
valley; Boro (= man) is the proper designation of the Kachari race. So,
in Chutia Nagpur, the Munda people of Ranchi call themselves Horo
(= man). Similar cases are found all over the world. In Europe, for
example, the name Deutsch for the Germanic race indicates that their
ancestors spoke of themselves as "the people" (diot, diota), ignoring
the other members of humankind. Munit is a very recent loan-word from
Assamese, and nowhere occurs in the tales.

[7] One is tempted to conjecture that this statement is an error based
on a confusion between the Miris and the Mikirs in Colonel Dalton's
notebooks. The custom referred to obtains among the Miris.

[8] In the Proceedings of the Asiatic Society of Bengal for 1874,
p. 17, there is an illustration and description of a Mikir "bachelors'
house," or teràng, by Mr. C. Brownlow, a tea-planter in Cachar. The
group of Mikirs among whom it was found lived at the head of the
Kopili river, looking down on the Cachar valley.

[9] Other authorities mention a fifth, Teròn, which Mr. Stack may
have overlooked because of the similarity of its name to Teràng.

[10] P. 8.

[11] In the story of Harata Kunwar, post, p. 57, a second or co-wife
is mentioned (Mikir, patèng, paju).

[12] This is an Assamese word, mel. The Mikirs cannot pronounce a
final l, and always omit it or change it to i or y in words adopted
from Assamese; e.g. hal, plough, becomes hay; pitol, brass, pitoi;
tamol, betel-nut, tamoi.

[13] Qu. Rongphar?

[14] This name, which means "Jòm or Yama's town," is often incorrectly
written Chomarong or Chumarong.

[15] Sentences enclosed in quotation marks were so written by
Mr. Stack, and are probably the ipsissima verba of his informants.

[16] Sir Joseph Hooker (Himalayan Journals, ed. 1855, vol. ii. p. 182)
relates that at the Donkia Pass, one of his servants, a Lepcha, being
taken ill, "a Lama of our party offered up prayers to Kinchinjhow
for his recovery." Perching a saddle on a stone, and burning incense
before it, "he scattered rice to the winds, invoking Kinchin, Donkia,
and all the neighbouring peaks."

[17] Such worship of objects and places of an impressive character is,
of course, common throughout India. Thus, in the Pachmarhi Hills the
writer has seen flowers and red lead (sindur) offered at the brink
of a terrible gulf of the kind so common in the plateau. Again,
at Balharpur, in the Chanda district of the Central Provinces, he
has seen worship offered to a bastion in a solidly built ruined fort
adjoining the village.--(Note by Editor.)

[18] So also among the Khasis; see Khasi Monograph, p. 119, bottom.

[19] This also is evidently borrowed from the Khasis. See Monograph,
p. 221.

[20] Compare the Khasi methods of divination by the lime-case (shanam),
and the bow (Monograph, p. 119).

[21] Mr. Stack notes that there was some reluctance on the part of
his informant to explain what was meant.

[22] Not further explained.

[23] See, however, what is said above as to the Ròngker, which agrees
with the observances elsewhere known as gennas.

[24] "Gourd": the word hànthar in the original is explained by
Mr. Stack as the name of "a creeper, with a fruit as big as a small
pumpkin, with a hard kernel in soft rind; the kernel is the size
of a mango-stone; the marrow inside is in two slices; when washed,
it loses its bitter taste, and can be fried, oil exuding. It is a
favourite dish with the Mikirs." It is, therefore, not really a gourd,
but I am unable to identify the species.

[25] "Sparrow": vo-ar-bipi, explained as a small bird, the size of
a sparrow. In the Aimol version the corresponding word is rendered
"bat"; but a bat in Mikir is vo-arplàk, and a bat has no nest (tar)
as the bird has here.

[26] "Stinging-nettle": tarme-làngbòng; this is probably not a nettle
(urtica), but some other kind of blistering plant found in the Assam
jungles; tarme means a creeper, làngbòng a vessel made of bamboo to
hold water.

[27] Fish-trap, ru: a bamboo cage placed in an opening in a weir or
dam built of stones or constructed of wattled boughs, so that the fish
entering cannot get out. The same word is used later (see note p. 53)
for the iron cage (ingchin aru) in which the orphan is confined.

[28] "May a tiger eat you, you wicked boy!" Teke nàng kòrdutpi a-osó,
literally, "You tiger-bitten boy!" pi is a syllable used in abuse,
as po ("father") is used in the opposite sense, e.g. po-arnàm-po,
"My good sir!" literally, "father-god-father;" lower down, addressing
a girl, pe ("mother") is similarly used: "pe-arnàm-pi," "dear girl!"

[29] Cloth-full, mànthung: a cloth or wrapper (pe) folded cylindrically
into a bag, and tied at the top and bottom with slit bamboo (jingtàk).

[30] "Iron cage": see note on p. 48 above.

[31] The nòksèk: the part of the house (in kàm: see plan, p. 8)
between the fireplace and the middle partition, where the offerings
of food for the spirits of the dead are placed.

[32] "A field-watcher's hut," hèm-thàp: a small hut, raised high
upon posts and thatched over, built in a clearing for cultivation,
in which the cultivator passes the night for the purpose of scaring
wild pigs and deer away from the crop.

[33] A species of potherb, so-called in Assamese: Bengali putika,
Basella lucida. It has red juicy fruit.

[34] Notice the simplicity of life indicated by the occupations
the fairy princesses have to attend to on their return to their
celestial home.

[35] The exact species of these flowers is not vouched for; those
named are common in the house-gardens of Assamese cultivators.

[36] See the note on p. 60.

[37] The flesh of animals killed by hunters is cut into strips and
dried in the sun on frames of bamboo, for future use. The frames are
called in Mikir ur and ràp.

[38] "Jungle-cock": Gallus ferrugineus, the wild fowl of Assam jungles.

[39] "Cock-pheasant": vorèk alopo, the dorik (Ass.) or "derrick,"
Gennæus Horsfieldii, the black-breasted kalij pheasant of north-east
India.

[40] There are certain particles, jo, jàm, hur, hòr, and krei, used
to indicate plurality when this is necessary; but they are inserted
between the root and the tense-suffix, which is invariable.

[41] Pe- and pi- are used with monosyllables, pa- with most
polysyllables; pa + ing = pàng.

[42] See "Khasi Monograph," p. 211.

[43] Reference may here be made to a summary of the Gospel history in
Mikir entitled Birta Keme, "Glad tidings," published by the American
Baptist Mission Press, Tika, Nowgong, in 1904.

[44] This seems to have taken place in or about 1765 A.D. See Gait,
History of Assam, p. 181.

[45] Words resembling kèp are found for ten in some of the
pronominalized languages of the lower Himalayas of Nepal; but these
do not enter into our present field of comparison.

[46] Lepcha kha, Khaling khal, are probably the same word.

[47] Other Boro languages borrow Aryan words for higher numbers
than ten.

[48] Lhi is the relic of kre, with the prefix k dropped and the r
changed to l.

[49] Linguistic Survey, vol. III. part iii., p. 118.

[50] Southern Chin, as will be seen from the word-lists which follow,
agrees in this respect with Mikir against Lushei, Meithei, and other
Kuki-Chin languages.

[51] The only exception in Angami is r, in which a few words end.

[52] This seems to make it improbable that, as suggested on p. 109,
chui in var-chui and nim-chui (to throw into water, to drown) is
connected with the Tibetan chhu.

[53] The Chin words are taken from Mr. B. Houghton's Essay on
the Language of the Southern Chins and its Affinities (Rangoon,
1892). In transcribing them h has been substituted for ` to indicate
the aspirate, but the spelling has not been otherwise varied. The
Lushei words are from Messrs. Lorrain and Savidge's Grammar and
Dictionary of the Lushai Language (Dulien dialect) (Shillong, 1898);
here too the spelling of the original has been retained.

[54] In Mikir this root is perhaps found in pi-nu, mother's sister,
nimso, a virgin, and chai-nòng, cow. Chai-nòng is now used for both
sexes, but the cognate languages point to chai (for chal) being the
original word for the bovine species.

[55] A final mute italicised in Lushei words indicates that it is
formed with the vocal organs, but not pronounced.

[56] Sa in Lushei means animal, and we see that the prefix te-
(in teke, tiger), thi- (in thi-jòk, deer), or thòk- (in thòk-vàm,
bear) has the same meaning in Mikir.

[57] So called from the figure of a butterfly (pli-pli) on the cover.