THE KACHÁRIS

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S. Endle.

From a Photograph by Messrs. Bourne & Shepherd.

THE KACHÁRIS

BY THE LATE
REV. SIDNEY ENDLE
For many years Chaplain of Tezpur and in charge of the Kachári Mission of the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel at that place.
WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY
J. D. ANDERSON, I.C.S. (Retired)

Published under the orders of the Government of Eastern Bengal and Assam
MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED
ST. MARTIN’S STREET, LONDON
1911

Richard Clay and Sons, Ltd.,
BRUNSWICK ST., STAMFORD ST., S.E.
AND BUNGAY, SUFFOLK.

N.B.—The Editorial Notes in this volume are from the pen of Colonel P. R. T. Gurdon, I.A., Director of Ethnology to the Government of Eastern Bengal and Assam.

CONTENTS

SECTION I PAGE

[Characteristics, Physical and Moral; Origin, Distribution and Historic Summary, etc.] 1

SECTION II

[Social and Domestic Life] 11

SECTION III

[Laws and Customs] 24

SECTION IV

[Religion] 33

SECTION V

[Folk-lore, Traditions and Superstitions] 54

SECTION VI

[Outline Grammar, Etc.] 71

Appendix I. [Tribes Closely Allied to Kacháris] 81

Appendix II. [Specimens of the Bodo Language] 97

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

IN COLOUR

[Map Showing Area Occupied by the Bodo Races] At end of Volume

INTRODUCTION

It is with some diffidence that I comply with Colonel Gurdon’s request that I should add a few words of preface and explanation to the last literary work of an old friend and pastor, whose loss will long be lamented in the Assam Valley, where he laboured as a missionary and planter’s chaplain for upwards of forty years. Mr. Endle’s interest in his Kachári flock was that of an evangelist rather than that of a linguist or ethnologist, and this preoccupation has coloured his style and affected the matter of his book in a way that, however pleasant and natural it may seem to those who had the privilege of his acquaintance, may perhaps require a few words of explanation for the benefit of those who look for anthropology only, or linguistics, in his pages.

My first duty, then, is to say a few words about the author’s life and character. Sidney Endle was born about 1840 at Totnes in Devon, of sturdy yeoman parentage. His grandfather was, it seems, proud of being an armiger, and it is a family tradition that many Endles figured in the ranks of the Catholic clergy of the West country. Mr. Endle was educated at Totnes Grammar School, under the Rev. James Powney, and early conceived a wish to enter the ministry of the Church of England, and serve abroad as a missionary. With this view he entered St. Augustine’s College at Canterbury. Unfortunately the College seems to have kept no written record of the dates at which one of the most distinguished and devoted of its pupils entered and left its roof. It was in February, 1864, however, that he was sent by the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel to Tezpur, in Assam, to be the assistant of Mr. Hesselmyer, then in charge of the Kachári mission at that place. In 1865 he was ordained deacon by the Bishop of Calcutta, and in the following year he was admitted to priest’s orders. Soon after he was transferred to the independent charge of the S.P.G. mission among the tea-garden coolies at Dibrugarh in Upper Assam. In 1869, on Mr. Hesselmyer’s death, Mr. Endle was made chaplain of the important tea-planting district of Darrang, with the charge of the Kachári mission in that district, having his head-quarters at Tezpur. His pastoral duties were thus two-fold. On the one hand, he became the pastor of an European community scattered over an area some 100 miles in length by 30 or 40 in breadth. It was his duty to gather his flock round him at some convenient tea-garden, or at the pretty little rustic church at Tezpur itself, where his congregation included the small band of officials. He was everywhere welcome, and it was not long before he was as popular as he was respected. One of the most unworldly and simple of men, almost an ascetic in his personal tastes and habits, he could sympathise with and understand men whose training and ideas were different from his. He had a native shrewdness and quiet sense of humour which stood him in good stead in his dealings with men probably as varied in their origins and temperament as are to be found in any collection of Englishmen beyond the seas. His sermons—and he could preach with equal ease and eloquence in English, Assamese, and Kachári—were ever those of a man who to shrewd observation of the various life about him, native and European, added an unwavering devotion to the responsibilities of his calling. Authoritative, and even stern, he could be when he thought it needful to assert his responsibility as a priest. But, somehow, the occasion rarely occurred, since his was not the disposition that demands impossible perfection of ordinary human nature. There was no touch of intolerance in his gentle and (there is no other word to describe him) saintly nature. I think he would have liked to have it said of him that, like Chaucer’s Parson,

He was a shepherd and no mercenerie,

And though he holy were and vertuous,

He was to simple men not dispitous,

Ne of his speech dangerous ne digne,

But in his teaching discrete and benigne.

Innumerable were the marriages and christenings he celebrated in all parts of Assam, and it was characteristic of the man that he regarded it as a duty to keep himself informed of the welfare, spiritual and physical, of the children he held at the font. During his rare visits to England he endeavoured when he was not busy preaching for his mission, to visit those whom in their infancy he had admitted to his Church. Few chaplains in India can have been so universally popular and respected as he was, and this without in any way relaxing from the dignity which, in his case, belonged rather to his sacred office than to any consideration for his own person.

But he made no secret of the fact that his heart was chiefly in his missionary work among his beloved Kacháris. The Bodos of the Kachári dwars (the dwars or “doors” of the Kachári plains are the passes that lead into the rough mountains of independent Bhutan) are, like most of the aboriginal races of Assam, cheery, good-natured, semi-savage folk; candid, simple, trustful, but incorrigibly disrespectful according to Indian notions of good manners. To a casual observer, they may well have seemed incapable of comprehending the gentle reserve and unaffected unselfishness of their pastor’s nature. Among them, however, it was his delight to unbend, and give way to the almost boyish simplicity and sense of fun which to the last were among his most engaging traits. When Mr. Endle approached a Kachári village during one of the prolonged preaching tours which were to him at once a duty and the keenest of pleasures, he was always greeted with a joyous and often noisy welcome. He travelled on foot, and the villagers would turn out to see the gāmi-nī-brai, the “old man of the village,” as they affectionately called him. He was often cordially invited to share in the village festivities, and it was an interesting sight to watch him seated in the midst of rough semi-savage folk, listening to the tale of their simple joys and sorrows, enjoying their primitive jokes, and, when occasion served, talking to them, as probably no one else will ever be able to talk to them again, of the matters nearest to the missionary’s heart.

In all parts of the Kachári country, Mr. Endle established many village schools, served by trusty converts. But his chief pride was in the church he built at Bengbari, which, to his great joy, was consecrated by Bishop Milman in person. Under its thatched roof has now been placed a tablet to the memory of its founder.

No account of Mr. Endle’s life, however brief, would be complete without a mention of the fact that in 1875 he married Miss Sarah Ewbank Chambers, who for twenty years shared his pastoral anxieties. Mrs. Endle was much respected by the European community throughout Assam, and her sudden death in Calcutta in 1895 was universally regretted. How sorely her husband felt her loss, not even those who knew him best were allowed to guess, but it was plain that, from this time onwards, much of his old elasticity of mind and body deserted him, and though he continued his work with unabated industry the effects of age began for the first time to be apparent to his friends. In 1884 Mr. Endle compiled his well-known manual of the Kachári language, published by the Assam Secretariat Press. From time to time he contributed papers on the subject of the Bodo people to the Transactions of the Asiatic Society of Bengal. In 1891 he was elected an Honorary Fellow of St. Augustine’s College, in recognition of his linguistic studies and of his eminence as a worker in the mission field. In 1906 he was offered a canonry by the Bishop of Calcutta, but characteristically refused a dignity which might have involved absences from his missionary duties.

Such, briefly told, are the few outstanding events in a life wholly devoted to pastoral work, of which little was known outside his native flock. It was Mr. Endle’s repeatedly expressed wish that he might end his life and be laid to rest among his Kacháris. This wish was not fulfilled. Towards the end of 1905 it was evident that his persistent disregard of his personal comfort in an enervating climate had taxed a naturally robust constitution. He was induced with some difficulty to pay a brief visit to England for rest and change. He spent this holiday chiefly in preaching for his mission and visiting old friends. He was soon, perhaps too soon, back at his work. It could no longer be hidden from himself or others that he had overtaxed his strength. This, however, caused him no disquietude. He had done his day’s work, and was cheerfully ready to take his departure. In July 1907, he could struggle no longer against growing weakness, and was placed on one of the little mail steamers that ply up and down the Brahmaputra, in the hope that river breezes, rest, and change of scene might bring about some restoration to health. He himself, however, knew that his end was near, and he passed away, painlessly and peacefully, on the river bank at Dibrugarh, close to the scene of his first independent missionary charge, entrusted to him more than forty years before.

So much by way of biographical introduction seemed necessary, not only as an inadequate and too brief memorial of a singularly unselfish and blameless career, but also as an explanation of some features in Mr. Endle’s book not usually found in anthropological manuals. Of the subject of the book itself I may now be allowed to say a few words, if only to show that it has an interest and importance, from an ethnological point of view, which are perhaps disguised by the author’s characteristically modest estimate of his task and of his power of dealing with it. The book is, primarily, a monograph treating of that branch of the Kachári race which lives in scattered hamlets along the foot-hills of the Himalayas in Northern Bengal and Assam, intermixed now with Hindu people who have intruded into what was once their undisputed home. In Assam proper the Hindus call them Kacháris; in Bengal they are known as Meches.[1] Their own name for their race is Boṛo or Boḍo (the o has the sound of the English o in “hot”). Among this northern branch of the race is embedded the tribe of the Koch, whose name is pronounced locally as if it were Koss, (to rhyme with our English “boss”). (Kachári, I may mention in passing, is also pronounced as Koss-āri.) The Koch have gradually become a semi-Hindu caste, most of whose members now talk the Indian Bengali or Assamese. It also contains the surviving remnants of the royal family of the great and powerful Koch empire, which, roughly, covered the same area as the present province of Eastern Bengal and Assam. It can be proved that the aboriginal members of the Koch caste within quite recent times spoke the Boṛo language. In the East of the Assam Valley was another powerful kingdom, that of the Chutiyas, whose language was another branch of the speech described in this book. The river names of the whole Brahmaputra Valley are Boḍo names, and it is demonstrable that the Boḍos were the aborigines of the Valley. In the great mass of hills, an outlying spur of the mountains of Upper Burma, which divide the Brahmaputra Valley from that of the river Surma which runs parallel to it from east to west are two more Boḍo groups. The most eastern of these comprises the Di-mā-sā, Great-River-Folk (di- means “river” or “water,”) people who were driven out of the valley of the great river Brahmaputra in historical times, and finally became rulers of what is now the great tea-planting district of Cachar or Kāchār. They either gave its name to or perhaps derived their Hindu soubriquet of Kachāri from this district. Of this branch of the race an interesting description will be found in the supplement to this book. At the western extremity of the range of hills is another group, the Garos, of whom an excellent account has lately been published by Major A. Playfair, I.A. (London, David Nutt, 1909). The Garos are of peculiar interest as members of the Boḍo family, because they were head-hunters within the memory of men still living.

Finally in the range of hills in the south of the Surma Valley, there are the Tipperahs whose language is obviously a branch of the ancient Boḍo speech; quiet inoffensive people, ruled over by a semi-independent Raja who is also a great land-owner in the British districts of Tipperah and Sylhet.

Now, the anthropologists rightly caution us against rashly concluding that a common speech, where races are in contact, implies a common origin, since everywhere, and especially among people who use an unwritten language, nothing is more common than the borrowing of a neighbouring tongue. But where, as here, we have five absolutely separate communities of semi-savage people, who nowadays are not so much as aware of one another’s existence, and yet speak what is to all purposes the same language, it is plain that they must have been united at no very distant date by some common social bond. The date cannot have been very distant, because in the unwritten speech of semi-savage people phonetic decay acts very rapidly, and a very few years may serve to disguise the relationships of adjacent and cognate tongues. No one who has heard members of the five branches of the Boḍo race speak their respective languages can fail to recognise that they belong to the same linguistic group. Moreover, this common Boḍo speech was, till within a few years ago, the language of the Koches, the dominant and ruling tribe in the great Koch kingdom, which survived, with something of its ancient prestige and power, long enough to be visited by an Englishman, Ralph Fitch, in Queen Elizabeth’s time. It would seem, then, that the language spoken in the ancient Koch kingdom, which extended from the Himalayas to the Bay of Bengal, was the Koch or Boḍo language, and the mass of the people must have been of Boḍo origin. In the Brahmaputra valley these Boḍos have survived in the midst of Hindu and Shan invaders and settlers, of whom those who are interested in the subject may read in Mr. E. A. Gait’s admirable History of Assam, (Calcutta, Thacker, Spink and Co., 1906). Here the anthropologist may come to the rescue of the historian. The Boḍo type of face and physical construction is, as Mr. Endle says, of an Indo-Chinese kind, easily distinguishable from the Arya-Dravidian type common in adjacent Bengal, and careful measurements in the Brahmaputra and Surma Valleys ought to show how far the old Koch element still persists, how far it has been obliterated by inter-marriage with Indian immigrants.

It may, however, be assumed that the population of the Koch kingdom, and therefore of its predecessor, the famous classical empire of Kāma-rūpa, of which Sanskrit scholars may read in the Mahābhārata (perhaps in a late interpolation in the epic) was chiefly Boḍo, of the same type as the humble folk who are the subject of Mr. Endle’s book. Kāma-rūpa was visited in the first half of the seventh century of our era by the famous Chinese traveller Hiuen Tsiang, whose interesting account of the land and people may be found at page 22 of Mr. Gait’s History. “They adore and sacrifice,” says the Chinese explorer, “to the Devas and have no faith in Buddha.”

It was apparently in the kingdom of Kāma-rūpa that there came into being that form of Hinduism whose scriptures are the later Purāṇas and the Tantras, the worship of Śiva and his Sakti, that form of the Hindu cult which, to this day and even in the temple of Kāli-ghāṭ in Calcutta itself, is distinguished by sacrifice by decapitation. In the earlier times of British rule, as readers of Mr. Gait’s book may find for themselves, the Hindus of Assam were much addicted to human sacrifice by beheading, and, to this day, the appropriate method of propitiating the terrible goddess Kāli, the “dark one” (who is also Dur-gā, “hard of approach”), is by bloody sacrifices. The Śaiva or Śāktā form of Hinduism would therefore seem to be due to an engrafting of Koch superstitions on the purer and humaner religious ideas imported into India by the Aryan settlers to whom we owe the Vedas and the religious literature based on those early pastoral hymns. From this point of view, it is important to bear in mind that the Garos were till lately headhunters, and that the Chutiyas were conspicuous, even in North-Eastern India, for their addiction to human sacrifices.

How does it happen then, it may be asked, that the Boḍos described in this book are among the most innocent and kindly of semi-savage people? The answer seems to be that the bulk of the inhabitants of North-Eastern India were always simple inoffensive folk, and that it was only the ruling tribes and families that were addicted to war, rapine, torture, cruelty, and the religious developments that go with these. If Assam is undoubtedly still the home of the Tantrik beliefs which have their centre at the famous shrine of Kāmākṣā at the old capital of the Koch monarchs (now known as Guā-hāṭi or Gauhati), Assam is also the home of the Viṣṇu-ite reform, an attractive and learned account of which will be found in a paper by Sir Charles N. E. Eliot, published in the “Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society” for October, 1910. The common people in Assam, the rustic Hindus of the Brahmaputra Valley, are in temperament and habits very like the cheerful and smiling Boḍo folk among whom Mr. Endle laboured, and of whom he writes with such frank regard and appreciation. The climate of the valley is enervating and soft, and any traveller in Assam can see for himself how the once fierce and warlike Ahom invaders, who gave its name to the country of Assam, have become as soft and kindly in disposition as the Kacháris themselves. No more remarkable instance of the effect of environment on national temperament could be found anywhere, and the anthropological theories of Dr. Ridgeway could hardly have a more remarkable support than he might find by contrasting the semi-savage inhabitants of the Brahmaputra Valley with the bloodthirsty and warlike tribes in the surrounding mountains, their neighbours and relatives.

I have only to say, finally, that I have added, as an Appendix to my old friend’s book, a literal interlinear translation of three stories from my little Collection of Kachári Folk-tales. In adding these I have followed the example set by Sir Charles Lyall in his monograph on the [Mikirs]. By means of this interlinear and word-for-word translation, the comparative linguist may see for himself how far Kachári is still a monosyllabic agglutinative language, and how far it has borrowed the inflectional mechanism of Assamese and Bengali. There has, of course, been mutual borrowing, and I, for one, do not doubt that the syntactical peculiarities of Assamese are largely due to the fact that it is a speech with an Aryan vocabulary spoken by a people who are largely non-Aryan. Any careful reader of the stories in this book can see for himself that the Boḍo spoken in the Kachári dwars is the language of a biglot people. Their picturesque agglutinative verb is plainly a survival of days when the language was as monosyllabic as Chinese. But the general structure of the language is now governed by inflections obviously borrowed from Bengali and Assamese.

J. D. Anderson.

Cambridge,
December, 1910.

[1] Mech, sc. Mleccha, barbarian, one who is ignorant of civilised speech. [↑]

THE KACHÁRIS

SECTION I

Characteristics, Physical and Moral; Origin, Distribution and Historic Summary, etc.

Characteristics. I. 1. The people generally known to us as “Kacháris” differ in some material ways from their Hindu and Musulmán neighbours alike in things material and moral. They are certainly not a tall or handsome race, and in general appearance bear some resemblance to the Nepáli, being as a rule shorter and stouter than the people of North-west India, though well fitted to bear up against physical fatigue and hardship. PhysicalIn face and figure they show a distinct approximation to what is known as the Mongolian type, i.e., they have square set faces, projecting cheek-bones, with almond-shaped eyes, and scanty beard and moustache, the last-mentioned being often wanting altogether. In this way they are well fitted for all forms of outdoor (field and factory) labour that require strength rather than skill, and may very reasonably be regarded as the “navvies” of Assam.

Mental. 2. In mental and intellectual power they are undoubtedly far below their Hindu neighbours; for they possess neither the quickness of apprehension, nor the astonishing power of memory, &c., characteristic of the higher castes among the Hindus. On the other hand, what they do succeed in mastering, often with much toil and painful effort, they digest and retain with much tenacity. Among other social and mental features of character there are two which are seldom wanting to the “Kachári”: (1) he is an intensely clannish being. A fine imposed on one member of a village community is sometimes paid by the whole body of villagers together. When employed in any considerable numbers on a tea factory, the Kachári labourers so employed, resenting some real or fancied wrong done to one of their number, will often leave the garden in a body, even though there may be a month’s pay due to every one of them. Again they have (2) no small share of that quality so powerful for good or evil, according as it is guided into right or wrong channels, i.e., a certain strength of will, “what their friends might call firmness, and their enemies might term obstinacy.” If they once make up their minds, and they are abundantly capable of doing this, to act in a certain way, it is mere waste of time to attempt to reason them out of their resolution, for nothing short of absolute and overpowering physical force is of any avail to turn them from the course they have once for all resolved to adopt and act upon.

Moral. 3. As regards the moral character of the Kachári race, those who know them best will be the first to speak favourably of them. Like many of the Sub-Himalayan hill tribes, they undoubtedly have a certain weakness for what may be looked upon as their national beverage (Madh, zu), a form of rice-beer. Of this, in itself a comparatively harmless liquor when taken in moderation, they at times consume very large quantities, especially at weddings, funerals, and at the January and April Bihu festivals; and more particularly at what is known as the “first eating of the new rice” (Nowán bhát khoa; Mikham gădàn zánai), which usually takes place about the middle of December or a little earlier. At this last-mentioned gathering the writer has sometimes seen well-nigh the entire population of a Kachári village hors de combat from the effect of over-indulgence in the national beverage. But they are certainly not habitual drunkards, and in this matter Kacháris as a rule would compare not unfavourably with the working man in more civilised lands; e.g., in England. But apart from this particular failing, one almost universal among hill tribes on this frontier, it is pleasing to be able to say that among them are to be found many simple virtues of great price, i.e., honesty, truthfulness, straightforwardness and a general trustworthiness deserving of all honour. In illustration of their simple truthfulness, even when involving serious consequences to themselves, the writer recalls a story told him some years ago by an officer in charge of the subdivision of Mangaldai, the late A. J. Primrose, I.C.S. A Kachári of Sekhár Mauza was brought before this magistrate on a charge (manslaughter) involving a very heavy penalty, when he without hesitation admitted his guilt, though the evidence against him was of the slightest, or at least utterly insufficient to secure a conviction. The relations of the sexes too are on the whole of a very sound and wholesome character, far more so probably than in many countries boasting of a higher civilisation. Infant marriage is as yet unknown among them, and so far as the present writer has been able to ascertain during the past forty years, the young people are as a rule chaste before marriage and true to their marriage vows in after-life. But it must be clearly understood that all this holds good of the Kachári in his simple, patriarchal, village life, and there only. His innocence is the innocence of ignorance, not the innocence of experience: and he is as a rule free from certain forms of evil because in his village life he has never come under any temptation to indulge in them. When contaminated by civilization, e.g., when brought into contact with our civil and criminal courts, much of this innocence must inevitably disappear; and of this sad deterioration of character any man who has been long in the country, and learnt to know the people well, must have experienced many melancholy and painful illustrations.

Origin, &c. II. The origin of the Kachári race is still very largely a matter of conjecture and inference, in the absence of anything entitled to be regarded as authentic history. As remarked above, in feature and general appearance they approximate very closely to the Mongolian type; and this would seem to point to Tibet and China as the original home of the race. The Garos, a race obviously near of kin to the Kacháris, have a tradition that in the dim and distant past their forefathers, i.e., nine headmen, the offspring of a Hindu fakir and a Tibetan woman, came down from the northern mountains, and, after a halt at Koch-Behar, made their way to Jogighopa, and thence across the Brahmaputra to Dalgoma, and so finally into the Garo Hills. It is not easy to say what degree of value is to be attached to this tradition, but it does at least suggest a line of inquiry that might well be followed up with advantage.[1]

It is possible that there were at least two great immigrations from the north and north-east into the rich valley of the Brahmaputra, i.e., one entering North-east Bengal and Western Assam through the valley of the Tista, Dharla, Sankosh, &c., and founding there what was formerly the powerful kingdom of Kāmārūpa; and the other making its way through the Subansiri, Dibong and Dihong valleys into Eastern Assam, where a branch of the widespread Kachári race, known as Chutiyás, undoubtedly held sway for a lengthened period. The capital quarters of this last-mentioned people (the Chutiyás) was at or near the modern Sadiya, not far from which certain ruins of much interest, including a copper-roofed temple (Támár ghar), are still to be seen. It is indeed not at all unlikely that the people known to us as Kacháris and to themselves as Baḍa (Bara), were in earlier days the dominant race in Assam; and as such they would seem to have left traces of this domination in the nomenclature of some of the physical features of the country, e.g., the Kachári word for water (di; dŏi) apparently forms the first syllable of the names of many of the chief rivers of the province, such as Diputá, Dihong, Dibong, Dibru, Dihing, Dimu, Desáng, Diku (cf. khu Tista), &c., and to these may be added Dikrang, Diphu, Digáru, &c., all near Sadiya, the earliest known centre of Chutiyá (Kachári) power and civilisation.

Group of Meches (Goalpara District).

From a Photograph by Mr. T. E. Emerson.

Distribution. III. But however this may be, there would seem to be good reason for believing that the Kachári (Baḍa) race is a much more widely distributed one than it was at one time supposed to be. They are undoubtedly found well outside the limits of modern (political) Assam, i.e., in North-east Bengal Koch-Behar, &c., and also in Hill Tippera, where the language of the people gives decisive evidence that they are of the Baḍa stock. But apart from these outlying members of the race, there are within the limits of Assam itself at least 1,000,000 souls, probably many more, who belong to the Kachári race; though many of the number have of late years become more or less Hinduised, and have lost the use of their mother tongue. These may perhaps be conveniently divided into a (1) Northern and (2) a Southern group, the Brahmaputra being taken roughly as the dividing line, thus:—

Name.Approximatenumbers.Chiefhabitat.
I. NorthernGroup.
1.Bårå (Kachári)272,500Western Darrang, Kachári Duars, and inNorth Kamrup.
2.Rábhá (Totalá)31,370Golpara.
3.Mech (Mes)93,900Do.
4.Dhimal(See Bryan Hodgson)North-east Bengal.
5.Koch10,300On Northern Frontier from Jalpaiguri toNorth-west Darrang.
6.Solanimiyas15–18 families onlyOnly in Mangaldai Subdivision.
7.MahaliyasWestern Darrang. Allslightly Hinduised Kacháris.
Phulgariyas
Saraniyas
II. SouthernGroup.
1.Di-má-sá“big-water-folk”15,931North Cachar Hills.
2.Hojáis2,750Do. and Nowgong.
3.Lálungs40,160South-west Nowgong and adjoining districts.
4.Garos150,000On Garo Hills and at foot of same.
5.Haijongs8,766On plains adjoining southern slope of the GaroHills.
6.Hill Tippera (Tripura) people105,850Hill Tippera, &c.

To these may be added one or two smaller communities, e.g., the Moráns and the Chutiyás in Upper Assam, whose language, not altogether extinct as yet though apparently dying out rapidly, would seem to prove them to be closely akin to the Kachári (Baḍa) race.

Historic Sketch. IV. The only branch of this widely spread race that may be said to have anything like an authentic history is that settled in what is known as the once powerful kingdom of Kāmārūpa (Koch), the reigning family of which is now represented by the Rajas of Koch-Behar, Bijni, Darrang (Mangaldai) and Beltola. But on the history of this (the Western) section of the Kachári race there is no need to dwell, as it was very effectively dealt with some few years ago.[2] But the earliest historical notices of the Eastern branch of the race show that under the name of Chutiyás they had established a powerful kingdom in the Eastern corner of the Province, the seat of Government being at or near the modern Sadiya. How long this kingdom existed it is now impossible to say; but what is known with some degree of certainty is, that they were engaged in a prolonged struggle with the Ahoms, a section of the great Shan (Tai) race, who crossed the Pátkoi Hills from the South and East about A.D. 1228, and at once subdued the Moráns, Boráhis, and other Kachári tribes living near the Northern slope of these hills. With the Chutiyás the strife would seem to have been a long and bitter one, lasting for some 150 or 200 years. But in the end the victory remained with the Ahoms, who drove their opponents to take refuge in or about Dimápur on the Dhansiri at the foot of the Naga Hills. There for a time the fugitives were in comparative security and they appear to have attained to a certain measure of material civilisation, a state of things to which some interesting remains of buildings (never as yet properly explored) seem to bear direct and lasting witness. Eventually, however, their ancient foes followed them up to their new capital, and about the middle of the sixteenth century the Ahoms succeeded in capturing and sacking Dimápur itself. The Kachári Raja thereupon removed his court to Máibong (“much paddy”), where the dynasty would seem to have maintained itself for some two centuries. Finally, however, under pressure of an attack by the Jaintia Raja the Kachári sovereign withdrew from Máibong to Kháspur in Kachar (circa 1750 A.D.). There they seem to have come more and more under Hindu influence, until about 1790 the Raja of that period, Krishna Chandra, and his brother Govinda Chandra made a public profession of Brahminism. They were both placed for a time inside the body of a large copper image of a cow, and on emerging thence were declared by the Brahmins to be Hindus of the Kshatriya caste, Bhīma of Mahābhārat fame being assigned to them as a mythological ancestor. Hence to this day the Darrang Kacháris sometimes speak of themselves as “Bhīm-nī-fsā,” i.e. children of Bhīm, though as a rule they seem to attach little or no value to this highly imaginative ancestry.

The reign of the last Kachári king, Govind Chandra, was little better than one continuous flight from place to place through the constant attacks of the Burmese, who finally compelled the unhappy monarch to take refuge in the adjoining British district of Sylhet. He was, indeed, reinstated in power by the aid of the East India Company’s troops in 1826, but was murdered some four years later, when his kingdom became part of the British dominions. His commander-in-chief, one Tulá Rám, was allowed to remain in possession of a portion of the subdivision now known as North Cachar, a region shown in old maps of Assam as “Tula Ram Senapati’s country.” But on the death of this chieftain in 1854, this remaining portion of the old Kachári Raj was formally annexed to the district of Nowgong.

As regards this last-mentioned migration, i.e., from Maibong to Kháspur about A.D. 1750, and the conversion to Hinduism which soon followed it, it would seem that the movement was only a very limited and restricted one, confined indeed very largely to the Raja and the members of his court. The great majority of his people remained in the hill country, where to this day they retain their language, religion, customs, &c., to a great extent intact. It is not improbable, indeed, that this statement may hold good of the earlier migrations also, i.e., those that resulted from the prolonged struggle between the Ahoms and the Chutiyás. When as a result of that struggle the defeated race withdrew first to Dimápur and afterwards to Máibong, it is not unlikely that the great body of the Chutiyás (Kacháris) which remained in the rich valley of Assam came to terms with their conquerors (the Ahoms) and gradually became amalgamated with them, much as Saxons, Danes, Normans, &c., slowly but surely became fused into one nationality in the centuries following the battle of Hastings. In this way it may well be that the Kachári race were the original autochthones of Assam, and that even now, though largely Hinduised, they still form a large, perhaps the main, constituent element in the permanent population of the Province. To this day one often comes across villages bearing the name of “Kachárigaon,” the inhabitants of which are completely Hinduised, though for some considerable time they would seem to have retained their Kachári customs, &c., unimpaired. It may be that, whilst the great body of the Chutiyá (Kachári) race submitted to their Ahom conquerors, the stronger and more patriotic spirits among them, influenced perhaps by that intense clannishness which is so marked a feature in the Kachári character, withdrew to less favoured parts of the Province, where their conquerors did not care at once to follow them up; i.e., the Southern section of the race may have made its way into the districts known as the Garo Hills and North Cachar; whilst the Northern section perhaps took up its abode in a broad belt of country at the foot of the Bhutan Hills, still known as the “Kachári Duars,” a region which, being virtually “Terai” land, had in earlier days a very unenviable reputation on the score of its recognised unhealthiness. And if this view of the matter be at all a sound one, what is known to have happened in our own island may perhaps furnish a somewhat interesting “historic parallel.” When about the middle of the fifth century the Romans finally withdrew from Britain, we know that successive swarms of invaders, Jutes, Danes, Saxons, Angles, &c., from the countries adjoining the North and Baltic seas, gradually overran and occupied the richer lowland of what is now England, driving all who remained alive of the aboriginal Britons to take refuge in the less favoured parts of the country, i.e., the mountains of Wales and the highlands of Scotland, where many of the people of this day retain their ancient mother speech: very much as the Kacháris of Assam still cling to their national customs, speech, religion, &c., in those outlying parts of the Province known in modern times as the Garo Hills, North Cachar and the Kachári Duars of North-west Assam.

Final Separation of Northern and Southern V. It may perhaps be asked how a people so clannish and united as the Kacháris are well known to be, should ever become so widely separated as the Western (Bara) and Southern (Dimásá) sections now undoubtedly are. The separation would seem to be almost final and complete. The writer, e.g., has often tried Sections of the race. to ascertain if the Kacháris of the Northern Duars retained any tradition of ever having been subject to the Raja of Dimápur; but up to the present time no trace of any such tradition has come to light. Intermarriage between the two sections of the race is apparently quite unknown; indeed, the barrier of language would of itself probably go far to prevent such intermarriage: for although the two languages have much in common, yet in their modern form they differ from each other nearly as much as Italian does from Spanish; and members of the two sections of the race meeting each other for the first time would almost certainly fail to understand each other’s speech. Perhaps the following tradition,[3] which apparently describes one of the closing scenes in the prolonged struggle between the Chutiyá Kacháris and the Ahoms, may go some way to account for the wide separation between the Northern and Southern sections of the race. The story is as follows:—Long, long ago the Dimásá fought against a very powerful tribe (the Ahoms), and being beaten in a great pitched battle, the king with all his forces retreated. But presently further retreat was barred by a wide and deep river, which could in no way be crossed. The Raja, being thus stopped by a river in front and an enemy behind, resolved to fight once more the next day, unless the problem of crossing the river could be solved. With this determination he went to sleep and had a dream in which a god appeared to him and promised to help him. The god said that early next morning the king with all his people must boldly enter the river at a spot where he would see a heron standing in the water, and walk straight across the river, but no one must look back. Next morning a heron was found, sure enough, standing in the water near the bank; and the king, remembering his dream, led his people to the spot and went into the water, which they found had shoaled enough to form a ford and allow them to wade across. In this way he crossed with a great part of his people. But still all had not crossed. There were some on the other bank and some in the middle of the river, when a man among the latter wondering whether his son was following him, looked back, with the result that the water at once got deep and every one had to save himself as best he could; while the men on the other bank, having no chance of crossing, dispersed. They who were caught in the middle of the river had to swim for their lives, and were washed down to different places. Some saved themselves by catching hold of Khágris (rushes) growing on the bank, and are to this day called Khágrábária. Others caught hold of nals (or reeds) and are thus called Nalbárias. The Dimásá are the people who crossed in safety.

It is fairly obvious that the Oriental love for the grotesquely marvellous has had no small share in the development of this tradition; but whilst making all due allowance for this, the writer ventures to think that the tradition itself is not altogether without a certain historic value. It probably represents the closing scenes in the protracted struggle for supremacy between the Ahoms and the Chutiyás (Kacháris) when the latter, finally beaten, endeavoured to escape their foes by crossing the Brahmaputra to the South bank, using for that purpose whatever material was at hand, e.g., rude dug-out boats (khel náu), extemporised rafts (bhel), &c. The student of Assam history will remember that a like mishap befell Mir Jumla’s expedition for the conquest of Assam; Rangpur, Ghergaon, &c., when a violent storm or sudden rise in the river carried away or sunk the boats containing his ammunition and other stores, and he was compelled to come to terms with the Ahom rulers. A sudden storm or rapid rise in the river may have prevented many of the fugitives from crossing, and these would perforce have fallen into the hands of the Ahoms. The latter, acting on the principle “Divide et impera,” may have forced their captives to take up their abode in the unhealthy (Terai) country now known as the “Kachári Duárs,” and further may have prohibited any communication between the two severed fragments of the conquered race, which would thenceforth naturally drift further asunder, until the separation became as complete as it remains to this day.

KACHARI MAN

[1] Some interesting remarks on this subject will be found in the Garo monograph.—[Ed.] [↑]

[2] See “Koch Kings of Kamrup,” by E. A. Gait, Esq., I.C.S., Assam Secretariat Press P.O., 1895. [↑]

[3] Extracted from a most interesting and valuable letter from Mr. Dundas, kindly forwarded for perusal to the writer by B. C. Allen, Esq., I.C.S. [↑]

SECTION II

Social and Domestic Life

Dwellings, houses, &c. In their domestic life, the Kacháris of this district (Darrang) do not differ very materially from their Hindu neighbours, to the subordinate castes of whom they are no doubt very closely allied. The houses are of the usual type, one-storied only, the walls being of ekrá reed or of split bamboo, and the roof of thatch fastened by cane. Each hut commonly contains two rooms, one for eating, &c., and the other for sleeping. There is no trace here of the practice which prevails among some tribes of the Province who are undoubtedly very nearly related to the Kacháris, i.e., the provision of bachelor-barracks (Dekáchángs), where all the young unmarried men of the village have to sleep apart from the dwellings of settled householders. It is probable, indeed, that this custom formerly obtained here, but all trace of it seems to have passed away long since.

Villages. A Kachári village is as a rule much more compact than a Hindu one, the houses being built more closely together. Usually, too, there is comparatively little foliage in the way of trees, &c.; and occasionally even something like a street separates the two or more lines of houses which compose a village. One prominent feature in the typical Kachári village cannot fail to strike the attention of any casual visitor at first sight. Each house, with its granary and other outbuildings, is surrounded by a ditch and fence, the latter usually made of ekrá reeds, jungle grass or split bamboo, &c. The ditch, some three or four feet in depth, surrounds the whole homestead, the earth taken from it being thrown up on the inner side, i.e., that nearest to the dwelling-house; and on the earthworks, some two or three feet in height, so thrown up are firmly inserted the reeds or split-bamboo work forming the fence itself, this latter often inclining outwards at a very obtuse angle; so that the ditch and fence are not easily surmounted from the outside by would-be intruders. A Kachári village usually abounds in domestic live-stock of various kinds, e.g., ducks, fowls, goats, pigs, cattle, &c.; and it can hardly be doubted that the fence and ditch above spoken of are largely intended to prevent the cattle, pigs, &c., from getting into the rice-fields at night, and so doing serious damage to the paddy and other crops. With the abundance of live-stock, especially hogs, reared and kept by the Kacháris, it need hardly be said that the villages can scarcely be described as being cleanly; though as a rule they do not differ so much as might be supposed in this respect from their Hindu neighbours, separate buildings being provided for the pigs, goats, &c., at an appreciable distance from the family dwelling-house.

Furniture, Implements and Utensils

Little need be said under this head, as the equipment of the Kachári householder for dealing with domestic or field work is almost identical with that of his Hindu neighbours. But it may be stated that in a Kachári house there will usually be found an exceptionally large number of earthenware vessels (pottery, &c.) which are used freely and frequently in the preparation and distribution of the much-prized rice-beer (Zu).

Occupation, crops, &c. Agriculture is still the great industry of the Kacháris of this district, both the hot weather (áus) and the cold season (sáli) varieties of rice being largely cultivated, especially the latter. In carrying out this work the people show both application and skill, so much so, that, failing some very overwhelming convulsion of Nature, it would seem to be hardly possible that a famine could take place in the Kachári Duars. This part of the district is abundantly supplied with water by the numerous streams issuing from the lower spurs of the Bhutan Hills, streams which for the most part flow in very shallow beds, and therefore admit of being easily used for irrigation purposes, whenever the seasonal rainfall may be at all scanty. Moreover, the people are especially skilful in the construction of irrigation canals and earthwork embankments for diverting water from river-beds into their rice-fields: and their efforts in this direction are very largely aided by their closely clannish organisation. Whenever the rainfall threatens to be below the average, the village headman with his associated elders fixes on the spot whence water is to brought from the nearest river to the rice-fields. At this spot very rude and primitive shelters of jungle grass, &c., are put up: and here all the manhood strength of the village, each man armed with hoe, dao, &c., are compelled to take up their abode until the necessary work has been fully carried out. In this way it will be obvious that the Kacháris have a highly efficient and very inexpensive “Public Works Department” of their own; and vigorous efforts of self-help of this character would seem to be worthy of high commendation and hearty support.

But it is not only in constructing embankments and irrigation canals, &c., that the people work together in this way. Very much the same plan is adopted in carrying out other enterprises in the success of which all are alike interested, e.g., in harvesting the great cold weather rice-crop in December and January each year. When this important work is in full swing, it is but rarely that the owner of a rice-field is found cutting his paddy alone and single-handed. He summons his neighbours to come and help him in this work—a summons which usually meets with a ready and cheerful response. It is quite common to see in December and January organised bodies of labourers, varying in number from ten to fifty or more, all in line and busy with the sickle in one man’s field at the same time. Every man as a rule works for the time being at high pressure, his toil being lightened by much merry talk and laughter, and many jests and jokes—these last, it must be admitted, not always of a highly refined character. There is a pleasing absence of the mercenary element in the whole transaction; for as a rule no money payments whatever are made to the workers. On the other hand, the wife of the proprietor of the rice-field is almost always present in person, and busies herself in keeping ever ready an abundant supply of wholesome and highly appetising cooked food, to be eaten on the spot, the nearest grove of plantain trees providing ready-made plates and dishes. Her post is no sinecure, as the hungry reapers make very frequent raids on the good things she provides; and she has above all to be careful to see that the much prized rice-beer (Zu) shall be at all times forthcoming in unstinted quantity. Her lord and master is usually content to wield a sickle with the reapers, like Boaz of old; and, of course, he holds himself ready to lend a hand in the same unpaid fashion in carrying out his neighbours’ harvesting operations, whenever his services in this direction may be called for. This whole system of mutual help in time of pressure is a marked feature of Kachári social and domestic life, and tends in no small degree to develop and strengthen that clannish temperament of which it may be considered to be in some sense the natural outcome.

Crops, &c. Rice, roughly classified as the larger and the smaller grains (maimá and maisá), is here, as elsewhere, the chief object of the peasant’s skill and labour; but other crops are not wanting, e.g., pulse, gathered in December, cotton, sugar-cane in limited quantities, tobacco, &c. Of this last-mentioned article there are two distinct varieties commonly grown, i.e., country tobacco and Burmese[1] (Mán) tobacco, the latter commanding the higher price in the market. All surplus produce finds a ready sale among the ever-growing numbers of imported labourers on tea estates, many of whom are consumers of Kachári rice-beer or less harmless liquors, and who in consequence fraternise readily with their Kachári neighbours. In this way the average Bodo peasant is a very well-to-do person in worldly things, the more so because the Kachári labourer is in great demand as a factory worker. Where there are three or four brothers in a family in Western Assam, it is quite usual for one, perhaps two, of the number to remain at home to cultivate the paternal acres, whilst the other brothers make their way to tea estates in Upper Assam for the manufacturing season, often doing double tasks day after day, and returning to the family fold in the autumn with a large and liberal supply of lightly earned rupees at each man’s disposal.

Food, &c. As regards his food, the Kachári is as a rule by no means limited and restricted, like his Hindu and Musulmán neighbours. On the contrary, he enjoys and practises a freedom in this respect which no doubt goes far to account for his often magnificent physique. With the exception of beef he denies himself almost nothing. His great delicacy is pork; and a Kachári village usually swarms with pigs in almost every possible stage of growth. These animals are often exposed for sale at fairs and markets in the Kachári country. There is, however, one common article of food, which no orthodox old-fashioned Kachári will ever touch, i.e., milk. When questioned as to the ground of his objection to milk as an article of food, he usually says that he is unwilling to deprive the calf of its natural support, though the real reason is probably of another character.[2] This prejudice against the use of milk would now, however, seem to be passing away; and some of the Kachári lads attending the writer’s Training Class at Tezpur now partake freely of this natural and sustaining food.

Among other delicacies of the Kachári is what is known as dried fish (nā grān),[3] i.e., the very small fish left on the surface of inundated land after the water has subsided. This is collected in large quantities near the banks of the Brahmaputra, and carried northwards to the Kachári Duars, where it is exchanged for rice and silk (eri), &c. This small fish is not cured or prepared in any way, but simply dried in the sun; and is very far from being attractive to the eye or the nose, especially to the latter. Nevertheless, it is greatly prized by the Kachári peasant as a welcome and savoury addition to his somewhat monotonous daily fare; nor does the free use of this hardly inviting article of food seem to be attended by any very injurious results to the physical well-being of those who largely and liberally use it.

Hunting, fishing. The Kachári often varies his diet by adding to it the proceeds of the chase and by fishing in the numerous shallow hill-streams in which his country abounds. Deer and wild pigs are frequently caught, sometimes by the use of large nets, enclosing a considerable extent of grass land in which some keen eye has detected the presence of the much-prized game. The net is gradually contracted until the prey comes within the reach of some stout Kachári arm, when blows from club or dao speedily bring its career to a close. In this, as in almost all else, the Kachári is clannish and gregarious in what he does; and regular hunting parties are duly organised to carry out the work in hand. Much the same system is observed in conducting fishing operations, though here the leading part is commonly taken by the women. On certain prearranged dates, the women of a village, sometimes of a group of villages, will fish a certain stream, or a number of streams, for a distance extending over several miles. The fishing implements used are of a very simple character, and are commonly prepared from materials found in almost every village. Nets are but rarely employed, as the water in these hill-streams is in the cold weather, i.e., the fishing season, usually very shallow, rarely exceeding two or three feet in depth. The implements commonly used are mainly two, i.e., (1) the zakhái[4] and (2) the pālhā, the former being employed chiefly, but not exclusively, by women; and the latter by men. Both implements are made of split bamboo work fastened together with cane. The zakhái is a triangular basket, open at one end, the three triangular sides closing to a point at the other. The whole is attached to a bamboo handle some three or four feet in length. Grasping this handle firmly, the holder enters the river, usually only two or three feet deep, and lowers the basket to the bottom, keeping the open end in front of her person; and then making a splashing with her feet, she endeavours to drive her prey into the open mouth of the basket, which is then quickly lifted and its contents rapidly transferred to the fish-basket. The system seems to be a very simple and even a clumsy one, but is far from being wholly ineffective. Armed with this zakhái, a number of women, sufficient to extend across the entire width of the stream, enter the river together, whilst another party commence operations fifty or a hundred yards away. The two parties work steadily towards each other, so that such fish as are not caught en route are gradually driven into an ever-narrowing stretch of water: and as a rule not many fish would seem to escape. The whole scene is a very merry one, accompanied with much laughter and pleasing excitement; and more particularly, as the two parties of fish-catchers approach each other, and the fish make frantic efforts to escape their doom, the fun becomes fast and furious. A fish-catching expedition of this kind is invariably looked upon as a village holiday, the entire population not infrequently taking an active part in it.

KACHARI GIRL FISHING

A second popular method of catching fish is the use of the pālhā, which is not very unlike an ordinary circular hen-coop. It is made of split bamboo fastened together by cane-work, and is about 4 or 4–1/2 feet in height and about 3 feet in diameter at the base. The upper portion is drawn somewhat closely together, leaving an open space at the top sufficient to allow the admission of a man’s hand, the whole structure being quite light and easily manipulated by one hand. Armed with this, the fisherman quietly enters the shallow water at any likely spot, and whenever his quick eye detects the presence of prey, the pālhā is at once placed over it, the lower surface of the basket-work closely clutching the ground, and the fish so enclosed are then withdrawn by the hand through the opening in the upper part of the instrument. This too, like the zakhái, seems a very primitive, unsuitable contrivance, but in the hands of men trained to its use from earliest childhood it is quite capable of being made to bring about very useful results.

A third instrument used by Kacháris in fish-catching is a small, pointed, metallic spearhead attached to a light bamboo. This is thrust rapidly and firmly into soft mud or other like places where eels, &c., are supposed to be concealed; and the fisherman occasionally succeeds in transfixing and drawing out one or more of these, which form a welcome addition to his daily diet.

Rice-beer (Zu), its preparation, &c. In common with many other non-Aryan tribes on this frontier, e.g., the Nágás, &c., the Kacháris of Darrang habitually consume large quantities of what is usually known as rice-beer (Zu, Záu). It can hardly be said to be a beverage in daily use, for it is only prepared when specially wanted for immediate consumption. An essential ingredient in the preparation of this most popular form of refreshment is the condiment known as emáo[5] which is usually composed of at least three, and sometimes four, distinct elements. To a definite proportion of husked rice is added (1) the jack-tree leaf and (2) that of the jungle plant known as bhetai, and in some cases the poison-fern, though this last-mentioned does not seem to be really necessary. All these ingredients are vigorously pounded together into a powder, which is then passed through a very fine sieve, at least once and sometimes twice. The powder so prepared is then mixed with water so as to make a more or less tenacious paste, and this again is divided into portions sufficient to form solid discs, about three inches in diameter, and one inch thick in the centre, with thin edges. These discs are sprinkled freely with powder from similar discs of some weeks standing, and are for a short time kept covered up in rice-straw. They are then placed on a bamboo platform inside the house for some four days, and are afterwards exposed freely to the hot sun for another four or five days, so as to become thoroughly dry. Finally they find their way into an earthenware water-vessel, which is kept suspended at a distance of several feet over the fireplace though they would seem to need no direct exposure to the action of fire-heat; and here they remain until required for use.

As mentioned above, rice-beer is not used as a daily beverage, but is prepared as required, especially for use at marriages, funerals, harvest homes and other occasions that break the monotony of village life. A common method of preparation is as follows:—A quantity of selected rice, about 3 or 4 seers, is carefully boiled in an iron or brass cooking vessel, the contents of which are then spread out on a bamboo mat and allowed to become cold. Two cakes of the emáo described above are then broken up into powder, which is carefully mixed with the boiled rice; and the whole is then stored in a thoroughly dry earthenware vessel (kalas). This vessel with its contents is then placed upon a platform some five feet high over a slow fire, in which position it is allowed to remain for some three or four days, the mouth of the vessel remaining open for the first day or two, though it is afterwards covered. It only then remains to add water ad libitum, and to pour out the beer, after well shaking the vessel, through a rude straining apparatus composed of rice-straw. It is said that the direct action of fire is not really needed in the preparation of this beer and that exposure to the sun is sufficient for the purpose, though the application of fire undoubtedly quickens the process. Rice prepared in this way may be kept in the earthenware vessel for six or twelve months, a fresh supply of boiled rice and condiment (emáo) being added to the old from time to time; but the beer is rarely kept in this way for any very prolonged period, though its quality is said to be improved by such keeping.

It may perhaps be added that the beverage so prepared would seem to be a thoroughly wholesome or at least a comparatively harmless one. Very large quantities are, to the writer’s knowledge, sometimes consumed at a sitting, the consumer’s brain apparently remaining wholly unaffected thereby. There is, however, a far less innocent beverage, commonly known as phatiká, prepared from this rice-beer by a process of distillation. This is a raw fiery spirit, somewhat resembling in taste the crudest possible whisky; and its use might very fittingly be put under severe restrictions by taxation[6] or otherwise, with results most beneficial to the physical, mental and moral well-being of this very interesting race.

Eri silk culture. One of the chief industries, a very profitable one among the Kacháris, is that of the culture of the silk-worm known as eri, and the manufacture of the eri cloth. The eri cocoons, which are about 2½ or 3 inches in length, may often be seen suspended, a few feet from the ground, in long festoons, a thin cord being passed through the base of the cocoons for this purpose. In this condition the cocoons remain for some fifteen days, at the end of which period the insects make their appearance in the butterfly stage. Before they are able to fly away, they are collected with care and placed in a suitable receptacle; and at the end of three or four days eggs resembling sago-grains make their appearance in great numbers. It is said that one insect can on an average produce from eighty to one hundred such eggs, or even more. In a further period of fifteen days the eggs are duly hatched, the new-born insect being at first almost black, from which colour it passes to brown, and finally to white, at intervals of three or four days; and at each change of colour the worm is said to cast its skin in snake-like fashion. Some four days after the last stage is reached, i.e., about fifteen days after being hatched, the insect may be expected to set about the formation of its cocoon. To assist it in this work, small bundles of plantain or mango leaves are loosely tied together and placed within broad baskets or on bamboo platforms, and the insects are then carefully placed within these bundles; and under favourable conditions the cocoon should be fully formed in about twenty-four hours. The actual formation of the cocoon is preceded by certain signs, very significant to the Kachári, i.e., the insect itself refuses food for a short time beforehand and becomes of a light, brilliant colour; and on handling it gently, a soft, rustling sound, proceeding from the insect itself, can be distinctly heard. After being carefully cleaned in water and dried in the sun, the cocoons are stowed away, usually in an earthenware vessel, until a fitting time, generally in the dry, cold season, appears for reeling them off, a work carried out by women and girls. It is said that a Kachári, working steadily at this occupation, can on an average reel off some 150 or 200 cocoons in a day. During the fifteen days preceding the formation of the cocoon, the insects’ quarters must be kept scrupulously clean, and food carefully and regularly provided. Its favourite viand is the eri (castor oil) plant,[7] which gives its name alike to the insect itself as well as to the silk prepared from its cocoons. But it also feeds freely on the leaves of certain trees known in Assamese as Kurungá, Gámári and Sangla, especially the first named of the three.

The loom employed for weaving the eri silk is of very simple construction, and most, if not all, the material needed for the purpose can be provided by the villagers themselves from local resources.

Kachári Woman Weaving (Kamrup).

Kachári Clothes.

The market value of a loom of this character is said to be about five rupees. It is usually set up on a shady side of the dwelling-house, or, where this is impracticable, a rude structure of thatch and bamboo work is provided to shield the weaver from the sun. The actual work is always carried out either by the lady of the house, or by one of her grown-up daughters; and it is in every way suitable to women workers, as it requires very little exertion of physical strength, but only a certain quickness and readiness of eye and hand. The conditions under which the industry is carried on are in all respects pleasing and satisfactory. Indeed, a Kachári woman working placidly and contentedly at the eri loom, singing quietly to herself in sheer happiness of heart, offers perhaps one of the most complete illustrations of the benevolent influence of the Pax Britannica to be found in the wide realm of India, especially when it is borne in mind that less than seventy years ago these Kachári Duars were subject to the Bhutan Rajas, who seem to have harried and plundered the people in the most cruel and lawless way. Soon after the master of the house, with one or more grown-up sons, has betaken himself to the rice-fields, and this he does almost at sunrise, his goodwife seats herself at the loom, and works away steadily until about 8 or 9 a.m., when she may be seen carrying a well-cooked and appetising meal, carefully shielded from rain and sun by plantain leaves, to her goodman, who from an early hour has been toiling in the fields for the good of the family. This duty discharged, she resumes her position at the loom for the greater part of what may remain of daylight. Immediately in front of the loom there are probably two or three small children (the Kachári race is a wholesomely prolific one) gambolling and tumbling over each other in high delight. To these the mother now and then devotes a word or two of remonstrance, whenever their gambols seem to threaten an infantile breach of the peace; and she may occasionally rise from her seat to administer some little corporal chastisement, though always “more in sorrow than in anger”; but otherwise she devotes herself steadily and assiduously to the work in hand. It is said that a Kachári woman, if not greatly or frequently interrupted in her work, can weave about half a yard each day; and, as this eri cloth, woven in long strips about two yards wide, can always command a ready sale at about Rs. 2/- per yard, it will be at once evident that a good worker can in this way, without neglecting other urgent domestic duties, easily make a substantial addition to the family income.

The fabric itself (eri cloth), so produced, is one of great value, especially for use in the cold season, being at once soft and warm as well as remarkably strong and durable. Of its very great merit in this last-mentioned respect (durability) the writer has good reason to hold a very high opinion. Some twelve or fifteen years ago he was presented with a piece of eri cloth by one Leah Khángkhuáh, a good Kachári churchwoman, living not far from St. Paul’s Mission Church, at Bengbari, whose payment of her “Church dues” (tithe) took this very pleasing and highly practical form. The quantity of cloth given (the donor declined all money payment) was sufficient to make two ample bed-sheets, and in this character they have been in use now for at least a dozen years past. During that period they have of course been subjected to many and frequent barbarous washings; but even the rough treatment they have so often received at the hands of the Assamese dhobi has as yet failed to make any impression for injury on the warp and woof of this sound material; so substantial and conscientious is the work done by this good Kachári churchwoman and gentlewoman.

Position, social and domestic, of women. Among the Kacháris women do not perhaps occupy quite the same influential position as seems to be enjoyed by their sisters in the Khasi Hills, where something like a matriarchate apparently holds the field of social and domestic life. Still, with this interesting race the position of the wife and mother is far from being a degraded one. The Kachári husband and householder has neither sympathy with, nor tolerance for, that degrading and demoralising creed “which says that woman is but dust, a soul-less toy for tyrant’s lust.” On the contrary, he usually treats his wife with distinct respect, and regards her as an equal and a companion to an extent which can hardly be said to be the rule among many of the Indian peoples. Kachári women, both in early life and as matrons, enjoy a large measure of freedom, a freedom which is very rarely abused for evil purposes. On being spoken to on the wayside, the Kachári woman will generally reply at once with absolute frankness, looking the questioner straight in the face and yet with the most perfect modesty. It has often happened to the writer during the last forty years to enter a Kachári village for preaching purposes, or with a view to opening a school. On asking for the village headman, that personage is usually not slow in making his appearance; and after a few friendly words he will, quite as a matter of course, introduce his wife, and that with no small pride and pleasure. In discharging this social duty, he will very commonly use much the same language as may be heard among the working classes in England. The phrase most common is “Be áng-ni burui,” literally “This (is) my old woman.” The words are not used jeeringly at all, but with much real respect and affection; and are obviously so regarded by the speaker’s life-partner, whose face and features, somewhat homely in themselves, may often be seen to light up at once with a very pleased and pleasing smile on hearing herself thus referred to by the sharer of her life’s joys and sorrows. There is, too, another consideration, not perhaps altogether unknown in other parts of the world, which has great weight with the Kachári paterfamilias, viz., that his goodwife for the most part does not a little to provide for the family needs in the matter of food and raiment. Her prowess at the loom has been mentioned before; and besides this, the actual planting out of the young rice-seedlings is for the most part carried through by the women. And all this is habitually done without in any way neglecting or slurring over the usual duties more strictly appropriate to the goodwife and mother.

Kachári Women Fishing (Kamrup).

From a Photograph by Mrs. H. A. Colquhoun.

On the whole it may perhaps be safely said that the social and domestic life of the Kachári is not without its pleasing and satisfactory features. It is probably for the most part far sounder and more wholesome than the life of great cities, whether in Asia or Europe; and it is with no little dismay and sorrow that the writer would see any hasty ill-considered attempts made to supplant or override this simple, primitive, patriarchal life through the introduction of a one-sided, materialistic civilisation.

[1] The Assamese habitually speak of the Burmese people as Mán. [↑]

[2] This prejudice is shared by the Garos and by many other members of the Mongolian race.—[Ed.] [↑]

[3] Cf. the Burmese ngā-pi. Query, is the name a corruption of nā-ghrān, in allusion to the powerful odour of fish thus dried?—[Ed.] [↑]

[4] Assamese, jakái.—[Ed.] [↑]

[5] This is what Bengali distillers call bākhar. It is usually purchased by them from hill-men.—[Ed.] [↑]

[6] Possession, manufacture, and sale of phatiká is prohibited by law.—[Ed.] [↑]

[7] Eranda; Ricinus communis.—[Ed.] [↑]

SECTION III

Laws and Customs

Internal Organisation. From such information as is available at the present day it a seems fairly clear that the internal and tribal organisation of the Kachári (Bara) race rested in early days, very largely at least, on a totemistic basis, although it is only here and there that any real regard for the totems can still be said to survive. In primitive days these subdivisions, all at one time strictly endogamous,[1] were probably very numerous. But in the case of many of these sub-tribes all trace of their distinct existence would seem to have passed away; and no restrictions on the intermarriage of members of such sub-tribes as still survive are any longer recognised. Among septs or sub-tribes whose names still to some extent hold the field may be placed the following:—

1. Swarga-ároi (Swarga = heaven). The heaven-folk. This sub-tribe is said to be the highest of all; none of its members ever worked as cultivators, for as a rule all deoris, ojhas, and others who took a leading part in religious ceremonials, were chosen from this subdivision; and the offerings made by worshippers were held to be sufficient for their maintenance.

2. Basumati-ároi (Basumati = earth). The earth-folk. This clan has a certain privilege not possessed by any other, i.e., its members can bury their dead without in any way purchasing ground for the grave or for the erection of the funeral pyre.

3. Mosá-ároi (Mosá = tiger), otherwise known in Darrang as Bāgh-l-aroi (Bāgh-l-aroi, the l is probably inserted for reasons of euphony). The tiger-folk. The members of this sub-tribe claim kindred with the tiger, and all the inhabitants of a village peopled by them go into mourning on hearing that a tiger has died in the neighbourhood.

4. Khángkhlo-ároi. The Khangkhlo-folk. Khangkhlo is apparently the name of a certain jungle grass, used freely both at religious ceremonials and at festive gatherings and merry-makings, of which the Kacháris are very fond.

5. Sibing-ároi (Sibing, sesamum, the Assamese til). The sesamum-folk. This sub-tribe is said to be the only one which in olden time was allowed to cultivate sesamum plant, and its members still hold this plant in special honour.

6. Gándret-ároi (Gándret, a leech or slug, Assamese Kumzeluka). The leech-folk. This sub-tribe holds the leech in high regard and cannot under ordinary circumstances kill it; though on occasions of certain religious ceremonials, e.g., purification after a death in the family, its members were required to chew a leech with vegetables for a certain limited period, though apparently only once in a life-time.

7. Nárze-ároi (nárze = jute). The jute-folk. This sub-tribe held jute in special honour, and on occasions of great religious ceremonials its members were bound to chew a certain quantity of jute (see No. 6).

8. Doimá-roi (Doimá = a large river) (cf. Dimásá [doimá-sá], the usual designation of the people of the North Cachar Hills). The river-folk. These in olden time were the fisherman class, though its surviving members are now merged among the mass of ordinary cultivators.

9. Bibiziyá-ároi (Bibína = to beg). The begging-folk. Professional mendicants having no fixed home or regular occupation, much like the modern Fakirs, Vairagis, &c.

10. Bing-bing-ároi (Bing-bing, probably an onomatopoetic word indicating a sound more or less musical). Itinerant musicians, subsisting on the voluntary offerings of those to whom they ministered. The writer has occasionally seen one or two members of this class in Kachári villages.

11. Ding-ároi (dingá = a bamboo water-vessel [Assamese Chungá]).[2] The dinga-folk. The members of this sub-tribe are said to have formerly earned their livelihood by making, these bamboo water-vessels.

12. Goi-bári-ároi (goi = the areca-palm[3]). The areca-folk; formerly devoted to the cultivation of the areca, of which they perhaps held the monopoly.

In addition to the above sub-tribes, all at one time strictly endogamous, though now no longer so, the following may be mentioned. It may be noted that these are recognised, in Kamrup at least, mostly to the north of the great earthwork embankment known as the “Gossain Kamla Ali,” though the writer has been unable to find any trace of their separate existence in this (Darrang) district.

13. Rámshároi. Rámshá folk. Rámshá is said to be the name of a Mauza in Kamrup.[4] It may be noted further that Rám-sá (?Ram’s people) is the name by which the Kacháris living in the plains are known to their brethren in the North Cachar Hills.

14. Brahm-ároi. Brahma folk. Said to be a quasi-priestly class, found chiefly in Upper Assam. This name, like the preceding, is obviously of Hindu origin.

15. Bánhbárá-roi.[5] Bamboo-grove-folk. (Bānhbāri = Assamese) is the sacred bamboo grove, found near many Kachári villages, where the worship of the gods is carried on at certain seasons.

16. Dhekiábári-ároi. (Dhekiá fern), the fern-folk. The totem of this sub-tribe was probably the fern, still sometimes used in the preparation of the fatiká spirit.

17. Máómará-roi. The Máó-fish folk, perhaps originally the dwellers near the Moamári bil.[6]

18. Kherkhathá-roi (Kerketuá,[7] squirrel). The squirrel-folk. Said to be a low caste and more or less criminal. One of their functions is to cut the horns of cattle.

19. Fadam-ároi. The fadam folk. The fadam is said to be identical with the tree known as sáchi in Assamese.

20. Mohilá-roi. Mohilá folk. Mohilá is a word of uncertain origin and meaning. It is said to be the equivalent of Maháldár, and to be applied to fishery lessees, and petty traders in areca-nut and betel-leaves and dried fish (nā-grān).

It may perhaps be added that among the Meches in Gowálpárá some sixteen of these subdivisions are recognised, all formerly exogamous.[8] In designating these subdivisions the same suffix (ároi or roi) is used as that characteristic of the Kamrup and Darrang Kacháris: indeed, the names correspond closely in every respect, e.g.—

  • Swarg-ároi,
  • Masá-roi,
  • Doimá-roi,
  • Goibári-roi,

which seems to be practically identical with class-names Nos. 1, 3, 8 and 12, given above.

But it is among the Dimásá of the North Cachar Hills and the Hojais of the Nowgong district that this minute subdivision of the clans would seem to attain its highest development. In this portion of the Bara race some eighty clans are recognised, of whom forty are known as men’s clans (sengfáng) and forty as women’s (zŭlu). All the members of these different clans eat and drink together freely, and are, or were, all strictly exogamous.[9] The only exception to this strict rule of exogamy is that of the so-called royal clan, known as Há-chum-sá,[10] i.e., “black earth folk,” all the members of which were compelled to marry within their own sub-tribe, marriage with a member of a subject clan being of old absolutely forbidden. (Cf. the analogous restrictions enforced by various “Royal Marriage” Acts in other communities.)

In partial explanation of the terms used (their number might probably be largely added to on further inquiry), it will be observed that the first two are obviously of Hindu origin, the Kachári affix ároi (people, folk) being attached to the Sanskrit words Swarga and Vasumati respectively. Most of the designations applied to the other sub-tribes merely indicate the occupation, probably hereditary, by which the members of these sub-tribes obtained their livelihood. But in almost every case, in these modern days, any special reverence for the totem has very largely become a thing of the past. There is, perhaps, one exception to this rule, that of the tiger-folk (Mosároi or Bāghlároi). (The l in this latter word is probably merely euphonic, so that the two words have exactly the same meaning). Kacháris of the old-fashioned conservative school still think it a duty to show respect to their totem (the tiger) by formally going into mourning whenever they learn that one of these animals has died in the immediate vicinity of their village. The period of mourning is indeed but a short one, seldom exceeding twenty-four hours; but during this brief period the sorrowing would seem to be very real, and not a little material loss is sometimes involved. No solid food whatever must be taken, in itself no slight privation to the Kachári, who is as a rule provided with an ample appetite. At the end of the mourning the floor and walls of each house must be carefully smeared with a freshly prepared compost of mud and cow-dung, a work usually carried out by the women. All articles of clothing, as well as all household utensils made of brass, must be thoroughly cleansed in running water, whilst all earthenware vessels except those which are quite new and have never yet been used for cooking purposes, must be broken up and thrown away. Then one of the elder members of the community, acting as Deori (minister), solemnly distributes the “water of peace” (Śánti-Jal)[11] to be drunk by all in turn; and the buildings themselves and all articles of clothing, &c., are freely sprinkled with this preparation. The service is finally consummated by the sacrifice of a fowl or pig, to be partaken of by all in common; after which relations of ordinary social intercourse with the neighbours may be quietly resumed.

Marriage, Endogamy, Exogamy

It is said that each of the sub-tribes mentioned above was in early times strictly endogamous; for though members of all these subdivisions might freely eat and drink together, intermarriage between them was absolutely forbidden. But all such restrictions on marriage seem to have passed away long since, so that the whole subject has nowadays little more than an antiquarian interest.

No formal hypergamy is recognised, though Kacháris occasionally take wives from the cognate tribes known as Rábhas (Totlás), Koches (Madáhis), and Saraniyas, &c. But such alliances are as a rule not looked upon with favour, and the bridegroom in such cases has generally to make his peace with his fellow-villagers by providing them with a feast in which rice-beer (Zu) and pork are certain to take a prominent place. Children born of such mixed marriages become in all cases members of the father’s subdivision of the Bodo race.

There is little or nothing specially distinctive in the laws of consanguinity or affinity in their bearing on the marriage relationship. A widower may marry his deceased wife’s younger sister, but not the elder, whom he is taught to regard conventionally in the light of a mother. Much the same principle holds good in the case of the re-marriage of widows, which is freely permitted, the one limitation being that a widow may marry her deceased husband’s younger brother, but not the elder.

Polygamy

As a rule the Kacháris are a strictly monogamous race, though cases of men having two wives have occasionally come under the writer’s notice. These cases are, however, almost invariably limited to men of a somewhat high social position or great wealth, such as Mauzadárs, Mandals, &c. Where, too, a first wife proves childless, Kachári custom sanctions the taking of a second, mainly with a view to handing down the father’s name to posterity. On the other hand, polyandry would seem to be absolutely prohibited, though it is known to prevail in the adjoining regions of Bhutan, Tibet, &c.

Adoption

Children, more especially orphans, are occasionally adopted, usually by near relatives, but sometimes by absolute strangers. In such cases the children so adopted are treated as full members of the family, and the foster-parents are considered by the community to have done a highly meritorious act. Several pleasing instances of adoption of this character have come under the writer’s notice, and in all such cases the adopted children seem to have found a very happy home.

Female Chastity

As stated above, the standard of chastity among the Kacháris, both men and women, is by no means a low one. As a rule the young people, in the villages at least, lead pure lives before marriage, and are faithful to their marriage vows in after-life. In cases where there are several unmarried girls in a family, and one of them is suspected of having broken the law of chastity, the following plan for detecting the offender is sometimes adopted. The whole family gathers in the evening around the sacred siju tree (Euphorbia splendens), which is often to be seen growing in the court-yard, surrounded by a fence of split bamboo. At the foot of this revered tree a quantity of rice (uncooked) is solemnly buried and allowed to remain there over night. Early next morning this rice is carefully disinterred, and a certain quantity given to each grown-up girl (sikhlá) to be masticated. The offender, under the pressure of the fear of imminent detection, is unable to masticate her portion of rice, the faculty of secreting saliva failing her in her terror of discovery and disgrace.

Kachári Girls Playing Jew’s Harp (Gongina).

From a Photograph by Mrs. H. A. Colquhoun.

She is then made to disclose the name of her paramour, whom Kachári public opinion compels to marry his victim forthwith, the bride-price (pan: see below) being in this case considerably enhanced as some slight compensation to the girl’s parents for the injury done to the honour of the family. A similar procedure is sometimes resorted to in cases of suspected theft or other like misdemeanours in the family circle.

In some cases where the parents are unwilling to part with their daughter to a prospective son-in-law of somewhat objectionable character, the matter is referred for decision to the village elders, who impose a fine of Rs. 20/- to Rs. 25/- on the offender. But whenever pregnancy follows offences against the law of chastity, marriage becomes absolutely compulsory, and the seducer is made to feel that he has brought disgrace upon the village, and is distinctly under a cloud. In this way a wholesome respect for chastity is maintained, and Kachári domestic life is kept comparatively pure.

Divorce

Divorce sometimes takes place by mutual consent, but cannot be effected without a certain formality. Man and wife appear before the village elders and state their case, concluding by tearing a pan-leaf into two pieces, fáthoi fesínai, (K.) pán chirá (Assamese), a symbolic act indicating that, as the sundered leaf can never reunite, so their own married life is severed for ever. Should the husband divorce his wife for causes which seem to the village elders inadequate or capricious, he forfeits all claim to reimbursement of his marriage expenses, and even when the divorce is approved of, he must pay a certain small sum (Rs. 5/- to 10/-) for his freedom, the amount being divided between the village pancháyat and the divorced woman. On the other hand, if the woman is divorced for just and sufficient reasons, e.g., for unfaithfulness to her marriage obligations, the injured husband is entitled to recover whatever he may have expended at his marriage, a sum amounting sometimes to Rs. 140/- or upwards to Rs. 200/-. The man who may afterwards marry the divorced woman is held to be responsible for the payment of this money; and so long as this latter condition is duly fulfilled, the divorcée is fully at liberty to live with a second husband.

Inheritance of Property

Among the Kacháris the laws and customs relating to the inheritance of property seem to be very vague, and it is not at all easy to obtain any definite information on the subject. Generally speaking, on the decease of the head of the household the eldest son takes charge of all property, making a home for the time for his widowed mother and his brothers and sisters. In this way the family may be kept together for some years; but eventually it breaks up as the children grow up and marry, in which case the father’s property is broken up into equal shares, the eldest son taking one share and a half, while what remains is divided fairly among the other brothers. The daughters, especially if married, can claim nothing. When a man dies without sons, the property usually passes to his eldest surviving brother, who generally makes some provision for the deceased man’s widow and daughters.

Disputes, whether matrimonial or otherwise (e.g., inheritance of property, &c.), are almost invariably referred to the council of village elders, whose members are not necessarily limited to five or other definite number; and the decision of this rural council is very rarely questioned or opposed in any way. It might be well to develop and enlarge this simple and very effective way of settling disputes, so that the villagers may be to a great extent saved from the necessity of coming under the contaminating, demoralising influence of our civil and criminal courts. As all the Kacháris of this district (Darrang) are ordinary cultivators, holding land directly under Government like their Hindu and Musulman neighbours, no remarks are needed under the head of “tenure of land, and laws regarding land.” So too with the sections dealing with “war, and head-hunting,” it is only necessary to say that the latter practice (head-hunting) is quite unknown here, though it would seem to have been very common in earlier days among the closely cognate race known to us as Garos.

[1] On this point Col. Gurdon, Hon. Director of Ethnography, Assam, writes as follows:—“I entertain grave doubts as to the correctness of the author’s remark that the Kachári totemistic clans were originally endogamous. If it had not been for the most unfortunate death of the author before this work went to press, we might have hoped to have had some light on this obscure point. Amongst the Mech, who are the first cousins of the Kacháris, and who live alongside of them, marriage is exogamous, vide page 124 of the Monograph, so also amongst the Garos, who may be described as second cousins of the Kacháris. Mr. Friel, Sub-Divisional Officer of Mangaldai, which division of the Darrang district contains a large number of Kacháris, met an old Kachári who stated quite positively that ‘before the Dewangari war, Kacháris were not allowed to marry within their own sub-tribe.’ It is true that Mr. Friel’s informant afterwards contradicted himself, but I think it is quite possible his first statement was the correct one. On the other hand, it should be stated in favour of Mr. Endle’s theory that three men were found in Sekhar mauza of Mangaldai who stated that in former days ‘a penance had to be performed if one married outside one’s own kur.’ My own view, however, is that stated above, and I do not think the statement that the Kachári totemistic clans were endogamous should be accepted without further investigation.” [↑]

[2] In the Dhubri subdivision there is a place called “Ding-dinga.” Perhaps this takes its name from the sept.—[Ed.] [↑]

[3] Cf. Assamese, guā, betel, to which Guā-hāti, the capital of Assam, is said to owe its name. [↑]

[4] Rāmshā is one of the old Mauzas of Kamrup. It is situated close to Gauhati.—[Ed.] [↑]

[5] Sanskrit, vamsa, bamboo; vāms-vāri is the Assamese word for a bamboo grove.—[Ed.] [↑]

[6] The Moámári or Máomári bil is said to have given its name to the Moamaria faction which gave so much trouble in the time of the Assamese king Gaurinath Singha.—[Ed.] [↑]

[7] In adopting a word from the language of their Hindu neighbours (Assamese), the Kacháris often use an aspirated letter where none exists in the original.—S. E. [↑]

[8] It is certainly strange that amongst the Meches, who are kinsmen of the Kacháris, the sub-tribes are exogamous, whereas the Kachári sub-tribes are said by the author to have been originally endogamous.—[Ed.] [↑]

[9] Cf. the case of the Mech sub-tribes. [↑]

[10] Há, earth; chum (-gă-chúm), black (cf. Dimá gá-chum, black-water); sá, folk, people. [↑]

[11] “Śánti-Jal,” water of peace (reconciliation), usually prepared by immersing in water leaves of the Tulsi plant, Dub grass, cow-dung, rice, &c. Money is sometimes added in the form of small silver coins (four-anna bits) or even rupees; and rings, or other personal ornaments, are sometimes thrown into this “Śánti-Jal.” [↑]

SECTION IV

Religion

General character of popular beliefs. The religion of the Kachári race is distinctly of the type commonly known as “animistic,” and its underlying principle is characteristically one of fear or dread. The statement “Timor fecit deos” certainly holds good of this people in its widest and strictest sense; and their religion thus stands in very marked, not to say violent, contrast[1] with the teaching of the Faith in Christ. In the typical Kachári village as a rule neither idol nor place of worship is to be found; but to the Kachári mind and imagination earth, air, and sky are alike peopled with a vast number of invisible spiritual beings, known usually as “Modai,” all possessing powers and faculties far greater than those of man, and almost invariably inclined to use these powers for malignant and malevolent, rather than benevolent, purposes. In a certain stage of moral and spiritual development men are undoubtedly influenced far more by what they fear than by what they love; and this truth certainly applies to the Kachári race in the most unqualified way. The Kachári Duars of this district (Darrang) were in earlier days looked upon as being especially unhealthy, and to some extent they retain that character still. It has repeatedly fallen to the lot of the writer, when entering a Kachári village to find one or more of its inhabitants prostrate with malarial fever of a virulent type; and on asking what was wrong the reply has very commonly been “modai[2] hāmdang,” i.e., an (evil) spirit has got hold (of me). And this reply may be looked upon as typical and characteristic, and as accurately expressing the very spirit and true inwardness of Kachári religion. Of sin, i.e., the conscious violation of the moral Law of a righteous God, the Kachári has of course no idea whatever. But he does believe in the existence and active interference in the affairs of men of certain invisible spiritual beings who are the authors of sickness, famine, earthquakes, &c.; who are for the most part influenced by malevolent motives, and whose ill-will towards mankind must be propitiated and bought off by frequent offerings of rice, plantains, pigs, goats, poultry, &c., in ways regarding which some little information is given below.

Worship of ancestors. 1. Ancestor-worship would not seem to be in vogue to any extent among the Kacháris of this district, though perhaps it is not altogether unknown; e.g., when the head of a family or other man of note passes away, it is not unusual at certain festivals to place on a platform a small quantity of the viands of which the deceased was known to be fond during his lifetime on earth, presumably for his use and behoof. No adult members of the village community will ever presume to touch these viands, though the village children are apparently at liberty to consume them at their pleasure.

Worship of natural forces. 2. The worship of natural forces also would seem to be not at all common, though some traces of it may perhaps be noted here and there. For instance, (A) in connection with the popular festival known as the April (Vaisákh) Bihu, there takes place what is called the “Parwa” show or bhotheli, a festival apparently common to Hindu and Kachári alike. The parwa is a tall bamboo pole draped with rags, flags, &c., taken from the village on the last day of the Bihu, and put up in a field alongside a tree, where the people amuse themselves by dancing, wrestling, and tom-toming, &c., around it. It is possible that this may be a relic or survival of phallic worship, the parwa taking the place of the lingam or phallus. (B) Again, water would seem to have about it something of a sacred character in the mind of the average Kachári. The dead are often buried or cremated on or near the banks of running streams, which are also favourite localities for the celebration of the greater pujas. This reverence for water is perhaps specially marked among the Kacháris of North-east Bengal (Jalpaiguri, &c), in which part of the Province, Mr. Bryan Hodgson informs us, all the smaller streams are regarded as a kind of lesser deities (dii inferiores), whilst the Brahmaputra is looked upon as the mother of them all (mater magna). It may be noted also in this connection that one of the principal branches of the widely spread Bara race, i.e., the people of the North Cachar Hills, still speak of themselves as Di-má-sá, i.e., “sons of the big river,” or “children of the great water,” even though none of them would seem now to dwell anywhere near a large river or lake, &c. It may therefore perhaps be safely inferred that the element of water, though now apparently not often actually worshipped, has ever been held in special regard by the Kachári race.

Worship of deities. The Kachári Pantheon is a very extensive one, though it seems probable that only a comparatively small number are strictly of tribal or national origin, many having obviously been borrowed from their Hindu neighbours. The popular Kachári deities fall naturally into two classes, i.e., (1) household gods (nă-ni madái); (2) village gods (gámi-ni madái).[3] The former are worshipped inside the house, or at least in the homestead (compound); the latter by the whole village collectively, outside the house, and usually near the sacred grove of trees or bamboos, often to be seen some fifteen or twenty yards from the village, and known as the thānsāli. A long list of these gods is given in an interesting paper by Maulvi Mahibuddin Ahmed, some nineteen names of household gods being therein enumerated, whilst the village gods number no fewer than sixty-five. Only a small proportion of these deities would, however, seem to obtain recognition in this district (Darrang), and it hardly seems necessary to mention by name more than a few of them.

A. Household Deities.

Among the household deities may be placed the following:—

  • 1. Bátháu brai, old Bátháu.
  • 2. Maináo, otherwise known as Bhulli Buri, and looked upon as Bátháu’s wife.
  • 3. Áśu Maináo.
  • 4. Śáli Maináo.
  • 5. Song Rájá.
  • 6. Song Brái.
  • 7. Burá Bágh Rájá, &c., &c., &c.

1. Bátháu (Siju, i.e., Euphorbia splendens).

Of these household gods by far the most important is the first-mentioned, i.e., Bátháu, who is pre-eminently the guardian of the family interests and family honour. He is never represented in idol form, but is well in evidence through his living symbol, the siju (hiju) tree (Euphorbia splendens), which is often to be seen in the Kachári homestead surrounded by a circular fence of split bamboo. Among the Meches of Goalpara, almost every home, it is said, has its Bátháu (siju), though in Darrang it is less frequently met with. Bátháu is said not to be worshipped separately, but always in conjunction with Ai-Deo. Inside the house a slightly raised altar, called dhám, is often erected in honour of Song Rájá, and at this women especially pay their devotions and make offerings, particularly at the monthly periods (menses). All offerings, however, made to Song Rájá are finally brought outside the house, and laid at the foot of Bátháu; and the writer has often seen such offerings in the form of heads of goats, pigs, fowls, &c., as well as plantains, támul-nuts, pán-leaves, gazi (i.e., a mixture of rice and pulse), &c., humbly laid down for Bátháu’s acceptance. In this way it is held that disease, famine, and misfortunes of all kinds may be kept at bay, through the influence of this powerful guardian of the family interest and well-being.

Siju Tree (Euphorbia splendens).

From a photograph by Mrs. H. A. Colquhoun.

It may be added that it is apparently only among the northern section of the Kachári race that the siju tree is regarded with special reverence. The Garos are said to know this tree and to use certain parts of it for medical purposes e.g., the preparation of poultices, &c.; but to them it is never an object of worship. The Dimásá of the North Cachar Hills, on the other hand, seem to have no special regard for the siju or any other tree.

2. Maináo (Ceres).

Only second to Bátháu is his good consort, Maináo, though, unlike her husband, she has no special emblem visible to the human eye. Her special function is that of “Guardian of the rice-fields”;[4] and among a purely agricultural community like that of the Kacháris, she of course is held in very high regard. She is, in short, to the Kachári peasant very much what Ceres was to the old heathen Roman cultivator. Eggs are the offering that finds most favour in her eyes, and these are presented to her in unstinted quantity. She is apparently especially worshipped at the period of harvesting the áśu and śáli crops; hence the twofold designation given above (Nos. 3 and 4, household gods), Ásu Maináo, and Śáli Maináo.

Of the other domestic deities above mentioned, it is not necessary to say much. Nos. 5 and 6 (Song Rájá and Song Brái) seem to be the especial objects of devotion to women, worshipped for the most part inside the house, whilst No. 7 (Burá Bágh Rájá) is apparently merely the name of the tiger, often spoken of with bated breath as the “monarch of the woods” (banar-rájá), especially by men travelling at night, when danger from the tiger may well be apprehended.

B. Village Deities.

There would seem to be little need to dwell much on the village deities; for no small proportion of them have evidently been adopted from the Hindu Pantheon, as will be obvious from the names given below. Some sixty-five such names are given in the valuable paper above mentioned of village deities recognised in Kamrup, though the writer only knows of some three or four of these gods as reverenced in this district (Darrang). Among these may perhaps be mentioned the following:—

  • 1. Mero rájá.
  • 2. Burá Mahádeo.
  • 3. Burá gosain.
  • 4. Jal Kubér.
  • 5. Thal Kubér.
  • 6. Ih Kubér.
  • 7. Bih Kubér.
  • 8. Kuber brai (masculine).
  • 9. Kuber brui (feminine).
  • 10. Sila Rai, &c., &c., &c., &c.

It is needless to continue the list, for almost all the names are obviously borrowed from popular Hinduism; e.g., Kuber is almost certainly the Hindu god of wealth and of the lower regions (Pluto). Others are in all likelihood merely names of deified mortals of some pre-eminence above their fellow men; cf. Ram, Krishna, &c. A notable illustration of this principle of deification is probably that given as No. 10 in the above list, i.e., Sila Rai.[5] This is almost certainly the name of the well-known Commander-in-Chief of the most famous of the Koch Kings, Nar Narayan, in whose time the Koch kingdom reached the zenith of its power. As a soldier and commander this man (Sila Rai) seems to have been the foremost captain of his time in North-east India; and his striking personality would seem so to have impressed the minds and imaginations of his contemporaries as to lead to his apotheosis after death.

As might be expected among a purely agricultural community, the great annual pujas, which are three in number, are directly connected with the ingathering of the three chief rice crops of the year, i.e., the Áhu, Pharma, and Śáli crops. The dates for these annual pujas do not seem to be at all rigidly fixed, but are apparently settled by the village elders to meet the public convenience. There is no prescribed form of religious worship; indeed, the whole gathering is rather of the nature of a village merry-making than a religious service; and there is invariably a very large consumption of the national beverage (rice-beer) at all these gatherings.

There is said to be another puja known as morong-puja, of which the special object is to propitiate the cholera demon, to whom are made offerings of he-goats, pigeons, fowls and betel-nuts, &c. In addition to these, flowers, eggs, pounded rice-flour, &c., are sometimes placed on rafts and set afloat on a river; and occasionally animals (goats, &c.) are exposed in this way on rafts as an oblation to the river god (dǒi-ni madai).[6] It may be taken for granted that, whenever these rafts are found on streams in the Kachári country, cholera or other malignant disease is or has been doing its deadly work among the people. In addition to the pujas above mentioned, which are more or less of a general character, offerings of goats, chickens, and a mixture of pulse and rice known as gazi, are often placed at the foot of certain trees, usually old trees, and finally left there. As a rule, only the heads of the goats, chicken, &c., so offered will be found at the foot of such trees, the bodies of the slaughtered animals being consumed by the offerers. These oblations are made, not by the village community as a whole, but by the heads of individual families, some one member of which is in severe trouble from sickness or other like cause. The money value of such offerings is sometimes not inconsiderable.

Priesthood

There is no authorised priestly caste among the Kacháris, nor are Brahmins ever employed in their religious ceremonies, these latter indeed being generally of a social, and even festive, rather than a religious character. In Kamrup, however, one of the recognised sub-tribes is, or was, known as “Brāhmarǒi,” a name which seems to point to Brahmins as having a certain standing in the Bådå community. All religious offices are now discharged by Deoris or Deodáis, who are usually men of a certain age and recognised social position in the village community; village elders in fact. The office is not hereditary, and any one versed in the usual forms of exorcism, &c., can discharge it. Another class of persons employed in religious ceremonies is known as the Ojhá or Ojhá-Burá, who is generally armed with shells, cowries, &c., by the manipulation of which he professes to be able to foretell prosperity or the reverse to those who consult him. These officials are supposed to be competent to deal with the ordinary ailments of village life by indicating the approximate method of propitiating the offended deity (modai), whose anger is held to be the cause of all the ills that flesh is heir to.

But in times of special emergency, e.g., plague, pestilence, famine, &c., the services of the “possessed” woman,[7] the Deodáni, are called into action for a special puja organised on a somewhat large scale. These gatherings are not very common, but when they do occur the order of the proceedings is something as follows, as occasionally witnessed by the writer. A piece of ground about fifteen or twenty yards square, usually on the bank of a running stream, is selected for the purpose. The surface of the soil is carefully removed, and a rude screen of cotton cloth some six or eight feet high erected on bamboos at the western side of the cleared ground. At the eastern side a slight earthwork embankment, some three or four inches high and about a foot broad is thrown up; and on this a number of figures, usually seven or nine, but always an odd number, bearing a rude resemblance to the outlines of the human form, are placed in an upright position. These figures are roughly made of jungle grass twisted together, and are about one foot in height. Before each figure is placed a layer of the plantain tree with its concave side upwards, and in this are deposited the heads of slaughtered goats, pigeons, chickens, with salt, sugar-cane, plantains, gazi (a mixture of rice and pulse), &c., the whole being freely sprinkled with blood and pounded rice flour (pitháguri). The Deodáni, a somewhat weird-looking figure, with dishevelled hair, and vermilion-stained forehead, wearing a long petticoat, dances up and down to and fro before these figures, keeping time roughly with the music of cymbals and tom-toms played by four or five men, who act as her assistants. The ceremony is a prolonged one, often extending over many hours: and the Deodáni, whose faculties are apparently quite absorbed in what she is doing and who seems for the time to be lifted above the world of time and sense, gradually works herself up to a state of excitement bordering on frenzy. At this stage, which is only slowly attained, a goat is brought forward and taken up before one of the figures above mentioned, when the Deodáni, with one stroke of the long sacrificial sword, known as the imfi and reserved exclusively for such purposes, severs the victim’s head from the body. Most of the blood is held to be offered in sacrifice to the madái, before whose emblem the animal has been slaughtered; but some part is said to be sprinkled on the persons of the assembled worshippers. It is at this climax of the puja, i.e., at the sacrificial slaughtering of the goat, that the Deodáni is supposed to become possessed of the knowledge she is in search of, i.e., the name of the offended deity who has brought about the plague, &c., and also the best method of propitiating his anger; which usually involves an offering of pigs, goats, &c., to the angered god, and the giving of a feast to the whole village community, the expense being defrayed by a general contribution.

1. Ceremonies Attending Birth.

In a Kachári village community there would seem to be no formally recognised midwives (dháis), any respectable and competent matron being at liberty to give attendance and assistance to the patient in such cases. In severing the umbilical cord no scissors, knife, or other implement of steel is ever used, nor is the severance effected at one stroke, but in a succession of slight cuts, seven such cuts being made in the case of a girl, and only five in that of a boy. The cutting instruments consist of thin hard strips of bamboo,[8] shaped roughly into the form of a knife; and a separate bamboo knife must be used in making each slight cut, seven such knives being thus made use of for a female child and five for a male. It is not unusual for one of the bystanders to give a name to the newly-born child at the severing of the umbilical cord. The good matron who officiates as midwife receives no money payment for her services, but on the mother becoming convalescent a feast is given at the parent’s expense, in which pork and other flesh meat is always present in abundance; and at this feast the officiating midwife is accorded the place of honour, as some recognition of the value of her kindly ministrations in her neighbour’s hour of trial and need.

For about a month or six weeks, (the period seems to vary within these limits) after giving birth to a child, the mother is held to be technically “unclean,” and is subjected to certain social and religious limitations; e.g., she may not approach the dhám or domestic altar commonly found inside a Kachári’s dwelling-house, and on which she is ordinarily in the habit of making offerings of eggs, chickens, &c., in times of trouble. This period of ceremonial uncleanness is usually terminated by the use of the water of peace (śánti-jal). The deori freely sprinkles the mother as well as the house and its contents with this holy water, after which she is fully at liberty to resume social intercourse with her neighbours.[9]

Naming.

There does not seem to be any special principle underlying the giving of names to children, nor do such names as a rule resemble those of their fathers. Like some of the lower castes among their Hindu neighbours, children often take the name of the day or the month in which they were born.[10] Hence we often find such names as Deobar, Mangal, Budhu, as also Mághuá, Pháguná (names of months), &c., in use among the Kacháris. Other names are obviously adopted from the Hindus, e.g., Gangá Rám, Sáti Rám, &c. Others, again, were probably given by the mother in infancy expressive of some peculiarity in the new-born child’s mental or physical temperament. Of this type, probably, is a very common name, “Khángkhoá,” i.e., the “voracious one,” the “great eater.”[11] Another illustration is the name Gáb-grá, i.e., the weeper, the crier, &c., &c. In short, any unusually prominent physical peculiarity is often seized upon to become the name by which the child is known throughout his whole after-life.

3. Marriage.

A. The marriage contract. From certain scattered scraps of information on the subject that have incidentally come to the writer’s knowledge during the past forty years, it would seem that marriage by capture was largely, if not universally, in vogue among the Kacháris in earlier days. Some traces of this practice would seem to survive in the ordinary marriage ceremonial which still to a large extent holds the field. A case somewhat of this character came to the writer’s knowledge some twenty-five or thirty years ago. A young Kachári, employed as a village pandit some thirty miles from Tezpur, carried off a girl from the house of her parents some ten miles away. No actual violence apparently occurred in the matter, and very likely there had existed for some time previously a private understanding between the two young people concerned. But what was done clearly had not the approval of the girl’s parents; for these latter laid a complaint on the subject before the writer, and claimed redress for the wrong done to them. When the offending pandit was called to account for his conduct, he simply pleaded in defence that what he had done was quite in accordance with the time-honoured custom of his forefathers: and on payment of the usual bride-price, at a somewhat enhanced rate, the parents raised no further objection to their daughter’s union with the pandit.

But in modern times “marriage by capture” is rapidly passing out of vogue, if indeed it be not already absolutely a thing of the past; and the marriage contract is usually entered into in one of the four following ways:—

(a) The young people occasionally take the matter into their own hands, as in the case above mentioned, ignoring the wishes of their parents on either side. This procedure is looked upon by the community as blameworthy and irregular, but not invalid. The bride’s parents claim an immediate payment of Rs. 5/- from the bridegroom, and also exact the bride-price at a higher rate than usual. But if these conditions are duly complied with, no further objections are as a rule made to the union.

(b) The more usual practice is as follows. When the son of the house attains a marriageable age, i.e., from fifteen to twenty years, his parents at once set to work to find a suitable bride for him. Having made their choice, they pay a visit to the prospective bride’s parents, taking with them certain presents in the form of rice, liquor, betel-nuts, &c., and formally ask the daughter’s hand for their son. If the presents are accepted by the girl’s parents, it is assumed that the proposal is favourably received, and the respective parents at once proceed to settle the amount of the bride-price (gádhan),[12] which is always paid by the bridegroom’s family to the parents of the bride. In Darrang the amount so paid rarely exceeds Rs. 40/- to Rs. 60/-, though in Kamrup and Goalpara it is said to be often double these sums; and even larger still among the Rábhás, Saraniyás, &c. In paying this formal visit to the prospective bride’s parents, those of the bridegroom are always accompanied by some of the elders or leading men of their own village, these latter acting as witnesses of the marriage contract, and so constituting in their own persons a very effective, if irregular, system of marriage registration. The stipulated “bride-price” need not be paid at once, nor does the actual union take place for some months after the marriage-contract has been entered into. And in no case does the bride leave her parents’ home until puberty has been attained; so that the manifold and obvious evils inseparable from the system of infant betrothals, and the prohibition of the marriage of child-widows among the higher castes of Hindus, happily find no place whatever in the more wholesome domestic life of the Kacháris.

(c) In cases where the bridegroom or his parents are unable to pay the bride-price demanded by the girl’s parents, it is usual for the young man to give the equivalent in personal service in the house of the bride’s parents, much as Jacob[13] served in Laban’s house seven years for Rachel. The period of service is a matter of arrangement between the parents of the parties concerned, and seems to vary greatly, i.e., from three or four to upwards of twelve or fifteen years. Cohabitation, however, is allowed after about twelve or eighteen months’ service, and at the conclusion of the full period, the young people are free to depart whithersoever they will, though they usually return to the house of the bridegroom’s parents. This form of service is known commonly as “Olaó ghar-jiyá.”

(d) A modification of the above form of service is that which is known as “mál ghar-jiya” (Darrang) or “Khasrot-tháka ghar-jiya” (Kamrup). In this case the prospective bridegroom severs all connection with his own family, and identifies himself completely with that of his bride, in whose house he serves until the death of her parents, when with his wife he is entitled to the whole or the usual share of their property. On that of his own parents or relatives he retains no claim whatever.

The actual ceremony of marriage among the Kacháris can perhaps hardly be looked upon as of a religious character, but must be regarded as more of the nature of a social and festive gathering. The order of proceedings is somewhat as follows:—On a fixed day a party of the bridegroom’s friends, numbering some four or five women and thirty or forty men, set out for the house of the bride’s parents or guardians. The bridegroom may himself accompany the party but more frequently does not. The immediate object of the journey is to bring the bride to the bridegroom’s house. The party take with them nine loads of viands, i.e., two men carry a pig, other two a large jar containing rice-liquor, four men carry loads of támal-pan, whilst the last man carries a quantity of eatables meant for the men and cowherds, who, it is supposed, might otherwise attempt to prevent the marriage party from reaching the bride’s house. Two women called bairati are in charge of these materials for the wedding feast.[14] On reaching the bride’s house her people pour freely on the whole party an irritating liquid known as kachu páni (water mixed with the juice of the kachu plant) and to this somewhat rough welcome the bridegroom’s party are bound to submit without complaining, although the liquid causes much irritation to, and even blisters, the skin. Finally the good things brought by the bridegroom’s party are taken charge of by the bride’s people, and the wedding feast is forthwith duly prepared. The village elders sit in front of the assembly, often a large one, and the younger people behind, each guest having in front of him either a brass plate or (more usually) a plantain leaf. On each of these plates the bride places a quantity of rice and curry, serving the elders first; and when all are duly provided for she makes obeisance to the assembled company, and sometimes kneels in their midst for their sanction and approval on entering upon the duties of married life, her husband when present kneeling with her. Then one of the village elders, acting as Deori, makes a short address on the obligations of the married state, ending by wishing every blessing, &c., to the newly wedded pair, the whole assembly joining in at the end with one voice “erŏina záthang,” i.e., “so may it be,” (Amen). The rest of the day is spent in feasting and merry-making, but towards evening the bride is formally taken to the bridegroom’s house. If on the journey she has to cross a river, road, or embankment (áli), &c., she is given at each such crossing nine areca nuts and nine pan-leaves as presents to overcome her assumed reluctance to proceed further. (Perhaps another relic of the “marriage by capture” practice.) Before the bride enters the bridegroom’s house, those who bring her are entitled to receive a jar of molasses as well as one of rice-liquor, and are hospitably entertained for the night. It is said that Kachári custom sanctions a certain interval of time, sometimes amounting to five days, between the bride’s entering her husband’s house and the consummation of the marriage. All expenses attending the marriage festival, which may extend to Rs. 200/- and upwards, are borne by the family of the bridegroom, the bride’s people as a rule contributing nothing.

4. Death.

Immediately after death occurs, the corpse is carefully washed by the nearest relatives, the arms and legs straightened out, the head anointed with oil, and the hair reverently combed. A fowl or a pigeon is killed, and from its flesh a curry is prepared with vegetables and condiments. A portion of this food is then placed close by the deceased’s head, and the act of feeding him with a little of it is carried out up to a certain point, though no food is as a matter of fact actually placed within his lips. This act is repeated some ten or twelve times, and what remains of the curry, &c., is then thrown away, no one being allowed to consume it. The dead man’s body is then clothed with the best garments he owned in his lifetime, and the whole covered with a perfectly new cloth; and in this condition it is taken outside the homestead for final disposal.

Disposal of the dead. There are two recognised way of disposing of the dead, i.e., (1) Burial and (2) Cremation. The latter is looked upon as the more correct and respectable, though from motives of economy the former is by far the more common. 1. BurialWhen burial is decided upon the corpse is carried to its last resting place, which is often but not always on the banks of a running stream, by the nearest surviving relatives, no women being permitted to attend. Should it be necessary for the burial party to cross a river or irrigation canal, a cord is usually stretched from bank to bank at the crossing place, either above or below the water, to serve a kind of bridge for the spirit (jiwa), should he be at any time disposed to revisit the scenes amid which his earthly life has been passed.[15] Arrived at a suitable place (there are no recognised cemeteries for the interment), some pice are thrown on the spot, to purchase the ground from the deity (madái) to whom it is supposed to belong. The body is laid on the ground and the grave duly dug, but before placing the corpse therein, the friends and relatives make a solemn procession around it, five times in the case of a man and seven in that of a woman. The body is then placed in the grave, a somewhat shallow one, and the nearest relatives proceed to fill it with earth. In carrying out this process a certain precaution is taken, i.e., a hollow reed or a stalk of jungle grass (kher) is placed perpendicularly in the grave extending from the nose of the deceased to a point somewhat above the natural level of the ground; and in filling the grave with earth, great care is taken not to injure or displace this reed, so that the deceased’s spirit may be able to breathe should he so desire. After filling the grave four posts are erected over it, one at each corner; and threads passed around them, in order to prevent the spirits of other men from interfering with the repose of the deceased. In the case of well-to-do people a certain number of rupees are usually buried with the corpse, and even the poorer classes make offerings of pice, &c., for this pious purpose; whilst brass and other utensils needed in every-day life are almost always left on the grave, it being supposed that the deceased may require the use of these things in the new state of existence on which he has recently entered. Finally, a rough shed of thatch is put up close by the grave to shelter the deceased’s spirit from rain and sun.

2. Cremation. Very much the same procedure is in vogue in the case of cremation, which is looked upon as the more respectable method of disposing of the dead among the wealthier members of the community. Cremation usually takes place on or near the banks of running streams, and is prefaced by the formal buying of the land from the deity (madái) of the locality. Here too a certain difference is made in disposing of the corpse of a man and of a woman respectively; for in the case of a woman seven layers of wood are placed under the body and seven above it, whilst in dealing with a man’s corpse five such layers under and five above the body are held to be sufficient. After placing the body on the funeral pile, the deceased’s friends and relatives pass round it in procession, five times in the case of a man and seven in that of a woman (see above). The funeral pile is then set on fire on all four sides at once, and the fire carefully fed until every vestige of the deceased’s body is consumed. The ashes are not carried away, but four posts are usually placed in the ground enclosing the oblong space on which the cremation has been carried out; and on the tops of these a cloth is spread, which is held to shelter the spirit of the deceased from sun and rain.

Indications of belief in life after death. From what has been written above, it would certainly seem that the Kachári has some idea, however vague and unsatisfactory, of a life prolonged after the great change we commonly call “death,” though his notion of the future life is merely that of the “first (earthly) life renewed.” It has obviously little or nothing in common with the hope of life eternal in Christ, i.e., life in God, life with God, life like God, given us in the New Testament (see 1 Cor. xv.; Phil. iii. 20, 21; 1 John iii. 2).

Festivities.
1. Domestic. From such information as the writer has been able to ascertain, there would seem to be few well-marked domestic festivities among the Kacháris, though the race is a very sociable and hospitable one, and the people entertain each other freely and frequently.

The two following may perhaps be mentioned:—

A. “Mikham gadán zánái,” i.e., the “eating of the new rice.” This is a feast held about December 10th (there is apparently no fixed date), in celebration of the commencement of the cutting of the great rice crop of the year (sáli dhán). It is on this occasion that the proceeds of the newly harvested rice are first partaken of as an actual article of food. There is perhaps nothing of a religious character about it, its main feature being a very free consumption of rice-beer, often resulting in much drunkenness.

B. “Mahu hanai” (or thàmfoi hasa-nai K), i.e., “the driving away of mosquitoes.” This is a form of merry-making got up mainly by the young people of a village about the latter part of November or early in December, to celebrate the departure of the mosquito plague for the cold season. Some twenty-five years ago the writer was passing the night in a school-shed, and was aroused from sleep by much shouting, dancing, &c., just outside the door. On looking out into the moonlight he saw a group of fantastic figures, some of them clothed in dry plantain leaves, and wearing a head-dress made of thatch of preposterous proportions resembling an enormous conical-shaped “dunce cap.” On inquiring the reason of the gathering, he was told that the performers were “driving away the mosquitoes.” No doubt this is an amusement got up by the younger members of the community, who are sometimes rewarded for their efforts by small gifts of money, food, &c., from their elders (cf. “Guy Fawkes,” at home).

2. Tribal. There would seem to be no distinctively tribal festivals characteristic of the Kacháris of this district (Darrang), unless the January and April Bihus can be regarded as such. The origin of these two festivals is still somewhat obscure and uncertain, and further light on the subject is greatly to be desired. Certainly they are not exclusively Kachári festivals, for they are observed by the Hindus in this neighbourhood as well as by the Kacháris.[16] Among the latter the January Bihu is usually celebrated about the 12th of that month. For weeks previously the young people have been busy building “Bihu huts” of jungle thatch; also in erecting tall bamboos, sometimes surmounted by ragged flags, &c., while straw, thatch and other combustibles are piled up around these bamboos to the height of many feet. On the appointed Bihu night these sheds, &c., are all set fire to amid much rejoicing, dancing, singing, &c., and of course there is, as on all like occasions, a liberal consumption of the national rice-beer. For a month or two previously to this festival, the village boys and young people have had to guard the growing and ripening rice crops night and day; and in all likelihood this merry-making, which is very much of the nature of a “Harvest home,” is largely an expression of their joy and gladness at being relieved from this hard and irksome duty.

The April Bihu, the origin of which it is not so easy to account for, seem to be a “Saturnalia” of much more objectionable character. The people abandon themselves freely both to drunkenness and other forms of licentiousness, and cases of serious assault and riot have been known to accompany and follow these gatherings. Among the Darrang Kacháris, this festival lasts for seven days, during which little or no work is done, the whole period being given up to merry-making, dancing, feasting, &c. As is the practice among their Hindu neighbours, on the opening day all cattle are taken to the nearest river or tank, and there formally bathed, and afterwards sprinkled with a preparation compounded of rice-beer (zu), tomatoes, and turmeric. The horns are smeared with oil, and occasionally oil, ashes, and pounded rice-flour are applied in patches to the bodies of the cattle. This duty discharged, the people abandon themselves to sheer merriment, the younger folks especially giving themselves up to dancing and singing, &c. The verses sung at these festivals seem for the most part to be little better than mere meaningless jingle-jangle rhymes, made up on the spur of the moment, though occasionally some of them give an insight into the peculiar humour of the Kachári character and temperament. One or two samples of what is sung at these gatherings are given below:—

1. Agŏi, Boisági, faidá nang.

Dána bathar jánai-khai rang zágan zang.

2. Adá Puá Rám, laga laga thángdang;

Gámsá hádang, fáli hádang, mána brábdang?

3. Ádá Ráguna, fáriyá, ai fáriyá,

Námoisă, gunoisă, fáriyá, ádá fáriyá;

Áma máseyakhosa zuriyá, ádá zuriyá;

Dáosá máseyá-khosa zuriyá ádá zuriyá,

&c. &c. &c.

The above represents an exchange of playful banter between two members (brother and sister) of a Kachári family who are about to take part in a Bihu festival or some similar merry-making. The brother, Puá Rám, with all a young man’s impatience and eagerness to enjoy the fun, calls to his sister, Boisagi, to come out from the house and join him at once, while she from within (couplet two) pleads womanlike for a few minutes longer grace to complete her personal adornment. Both brother and sister then join in calling on a near relative, a mauzadár, not to shirk his social responsibilities, but at once to provide the ways and means for a plentiful Bihu feast. The general sense of the three couplets, somewhat freely translated, is given below:—

1. Sister Boisagi, come out and play;

This is our Bihu holiday;

Don’t move inside the house all day.

2. Dear brother mine, I’ll come anon

I’m putting my best sari on;

Five minutes’ grace; don’t harshly press;

We ladies must have time to dress.

3. Uncle’s a wealthy mauzadár;

Long has he served the great Sirkar;

He’ll gladly give a bounteous feast,

A round half-dozen pigs at least.

&c. &c. &c.

II

The following couplet, which is not connected with the foregoing, calls perhaps for some explanation. The words, of which a free translation is appended, are supposed to be uttered by a Kachári damsel, the village belle, to a fickle lover, who, after paying court to her for a time, deserts her and marries another. The faithless swain is a man of some little importance in the village community as a dāng dāliyā, or drum-major, one of his functions being to beat the big drum (madal) at all festivals, marriage processions, &c. He has the misfortune to lose his wife after a month or two of wedded life, and then would fain return to the “old love.”

Armed therefore with his big drum of office and apparelled in his gayest attire, he presents himself before the Kachári belle and renews his suit for her hand. Now the average Kachári maiden has a wholesome sense of her own value (in married life she is not unfrequently the “better man” of the two), and no more relishes being “jilted” than her sisters in other and more civilised parts of the world. She at once, therefore, repels his advances in the most positive and unqualified way; and not only so, but in the presence of a large bevy of scornful village maidens, all highly resentful of the faithless lover’s fickleness, she proceeds to pour contempt on his suit in the following severely sarcastic couplet (”facit indignatio versus”):—

Dáng-dáliyá, dángdáliyá.

Mozáng mozáng gán-blá-ba

Náng-kho náng-li-yá; nang-li-yá