K (Continued) (part 2)

I am informed that, among the Kurumbas of the Nīlgiris, it is the custom for several brothers to take one wife in common (adelphogamy), and that they do not object to their women being open to others also. There is said to be no marriage rite. A man and woman will mate together, and live as husband and wife. And, if it happens that, in a family, there has been a succession of such wives for one or two generations, it becomes an event, and is celebrated as such. The pair sit together, and pour water over each other from pots. They then put on new cloths, and a feast is partaken of. Among the Shōla Nāyakkars, a feature of the marriage ceremony is said to be for the bride to roll a cheroot of tobacco leaves, which both parties must smoke in turn.

Writing concerning the Irulas and Kurumbas, Mr. Walhouse says that “after every death among them, they bring a long water-worn stone (devva kotta kallu), and put it into one of the old cromlechs sprinkled over the Nīlgiri plateau. Some of the larger of these have been found piled up to the cap-stone with such pebbles, which must have been the work of generations. Occasionally, too, the tribes mentioned make small cromlechs for burial purposes, and place the long water-worn pebbles in them. Mr. Breeks reports that the Kurumbas in the neighbourhood of the Rangasvāmi peak and Barliar burn their dead, and place a bone and a small round stone in the sāvu-mane (death-house)—an old cromlech.” The conjecture is hazarded by Fergusson that the Kurumbas are the remnant of a great and widely spread race, who may have erected dolmens. As bearing on the connection between Kurumbas and Kurubas, it is worthy of note that the latter, in some places, erect dolmens as a resting-place for the dead. (See Kuruba.)

It is noted, in the Gazetteer of the Nīlgiris, that the Kurumbas “trade largely on the extraordinary dread of their supposed magical powers which possesses the Todas and the Badagas—the latter especially. Stories are told of how they can summon wild elephants at will, and reduce rocks to powder merely by scattering mystic herbs upon them.”

“The Kurumbas,” Harkness writes, “have a knowledge of herbs and medicinal roots, and the Burghers (Badagas) say that they limit their knowledge thereof to those which are noxious only, and believe that, with the assistance of their magic, they are able to convey them into the stomachs of those to whom they have any dislike. The violent antipathy existing between the Burghers and the Kurumbas, and the dread and horror which the former entertain of the preternatural powers of the latter, are, perhaps, not easily accounted for; but neither sickness, death, nor misfortune of any kind, ever visit the former, without the latter having the credit of producing it. A few years before, a Burgher had been hanged by the sentence of the provincial court for the murder of a Kurumba. The act of the former was not without what was considered great provocation. Disease had attacked the inhabitants of the hamlet, a murrain their cattle. The former had carried off a great part of the family of the murderer, and he himself had but narrowly escaped its effects. No one in the neighbourhood doubted that the Kurumba in question had, by his necromancy, caused all this misfortune, and, after several fruitless attempts, a party of them succeeded in surrounding him in open day, and effecting their purpose.” In 1835 no less than forty-eight Kurumbas were murdered, and a smaller number in 1875 and 1882. In 1900 a whole family of Kurumbas was murdered, of which the head, who had a reputation as a medicine-man, was believed to have brought disease and death into a Badaga village. The sympathies of the whole country-side were so strongly with the murderers that detection was made very difficult, and the persons charged were acquitted. In this case several Todas were implicated. “It is,” Mr. Grigg writes, “a curious fact that neither Kota, Irula, or Badaga will slay a Kurumba until a Toda has struck the first blow, but, as soon as his sanctity has been violated by a blow, they hasten to complete the murderous work, which the sacred hand of the Toda has begun.” The Badaga’s dread of the Kurumba is said to be so great that a simple threat of vengeance has proved fatal. My Toda guide—a stalwart representative of his tribe—expressed fear of walking from Ootacamund to Kotagiri, a distance of eighteen miles along a highroad, lest he should come to grief at the hands of Kurumbas; but this was really a frivolous excuse to get out of accompanying me to a distance from his domestic hearth. In like manner, Dr. Rivers records that, when he went to Kotagiri, a Toda who was to accompany him made a stipulation that he should be provided with a companion, as the Kurambas were very numerous in that part. In connection with the Toda legend of Ön, who created the buffaloes and the Todas, Dr. Rivers writes that “when Ön saw that his son was in Amnodr (the world of the dead), he did not like to leave him there alone, and decided to go away to the same place. So he called together all the people, and the buffaloes and the trees, to come and bid him farewell. All the people came except a man of Kwodrdoni named Arsankutan. He and his family did not come. All the buffaloes came except the Arsaiir, the buffaloes of the Kwodroni ti (sacred dairy). Some trees also failed to come. Ön blessed all the people, buffaloes and trees present, but said that, because Arsankutan had not come, he and his people should die by sorcery at the hands of the Kurumbas, and that, because the Arsaiir had not come, they should be killed by tigers, and that the trees which had not come should bear bitter fruit. Since that time the Todas have feared the Kurumbas, and buffaloes have been killed by tigers.”

On the Nīlgiri hills, honey-combs are collected by Jēn Kurumbas and Shōlagas. The supply of honey varies according to the nature of the season, and is said to be especially plentiful and of good quality when Strobilanthes flowers. The Kurumbas are said to have incredibly keen eye-sight, gained from constantly watching the bee to his hive. When they find a hive not quite ready to take, they place a couple of sticks in a certain position. This sign will prevent any other Kurumba from taking the honey, and no Badaga or other hillman would meddle with it on any account, for fear of being killed by sorcery.

Fortified by a liberal allowance of alcohol and tobacco, the Kurumbas, armed with bamboo torches, will follow up at night the tracks of a wounded ‘bison’ (Bos gaurus), and bring back the head and meat to camp. A European sportsman recounts that he has often seen his Kurumba shikāri (tracker) stop, and, with the one word “honey,” point to the top of an adjacent tree. “How do you know?” he asked, “Oh! I saw a bee” was the answer given with the greatest nonchalance. On one occasion he found himself close to a swarm of bees. The Kurumba, seeing him hesitate, thrust his stick clean through the swarm, and, with the bare remark “No honey,” marched on. The District Forest Officer, when out shooting, had an easy shot at a stag, and missed it. “There,” said the Kurumba, pointing to a distant tree, “is your bullet.” His trained sense of hearing no doubt enabled him to locate the sound of the bullet striking the tree, and his eyes, following the sound, instantly detected the slight blaze made by the bullet on the bark. The visual acuity of a number of tribes and castes inhabiting the mountains, jungles, and plains, has been determined by Dr. W. H. R. Rivers and myself, by means of the Cohn letter E method. And, though the jungle man, who has to search for his food and mark the tracks or traces of wild beasts, undoubtedly possesses a specially trained keenness of vision for the exigencies of his primitive life, our figures show that, as regards ordinary visual acuity, he has no advantage over the more highly civilised classes.

“The Kurumbas of the Mysore forests,” Mr. Theobald writes, “make fire by friction. They follow the same method as the Todas, as described by Mr. Thurston, but never use the powdered charcoal in the cavity of the horizontal piece of wood which is held down by their feet, or by a companion. The fine brown powder, formed during the rotation of the longer vertical piece, gives sufficient tinder, which soon ignites, and is then placed on a small piece of cotton rag, rolled loosely, and gently blown until it is ignited. The vertical stick is held between the palms, and has a reciprocal motion, by the palms being moved in opposite directions, at the same time using a strong downward pressure, which naturally brings the palms to the bottom, when they are at once raised to their original position, and the operation continued till the naturally formed tinder ignites.”

In his report on Forest Administration in Coorg, 1902–1903, Mr. C. D’A. McCarthy writes as follows concerning the Kurumbas, who work for the Forest department. “We experienced in connection with the Kurumbas one of those apparent aberrations of sense and intellect, the occurrence of which amongst this peculiar race was foreshadowed in the last report. The Chief Commissioner is aware that, in the interests of the Kurubas themselves, we substitute for a single cash payment distributions to the same value of food-grains, clothes and cash, in equal proportions of each. Now, seventy years ago, before the annexation of Coorg, the Kurubas and similar castes were prædial slaves of the dominant Coorgs, receiving no other remuneration for service than food and clothing. In fact, this institution, nothing less than real slavery, was not entirely broken up until the great demand for local labour created by the opening up of the country for coffee cultivation so late as 1860–1870, so that the existing generation are still cognisant of the old state of affairs. Last year, during the distribution of rewards for the successful protection of the reserves that season from fire, it seems that the idea was put into the heads of these people that our system of remuneration, which includes the distribution of food and clothing, was an attempt to create again at their expense a system of, as it were, forest slavery; with the result that for a time nothing would induce many of them to accept any form of remuneration for the work already performed, much less to undertake the same duties for the approaching season. It was some time, and after no little trouble, that the wherefore of this strange conduct was discovered, and the suspicions aroused put at rest.” In his report, 1904–1905, Mr. McCarthy states that “the local system of fire protection, consisting of the utilisation of the Kuruba jungle population for the clearing of fire lines and patrolling, and the payment of rewards according to results, may now be said to be completely established in Coorg. The Kurubas appear to have gained complete confidence in the working of the system, and, provided the superior officers personally see to the payment of the rewards, are evidently quite satisfied that the deductions for failures are just and fair.”

The Kurumbas are said to have been very useful in the mining operations during the short life of the Wynād gold-mines. A few years ago, I received the skulls of two Kurumbas, who went after a porcupine into a deserted tunnel on the Glenrock Gold-mining Company’s land in the Wynād. The roof fell in on them, and they were buried alive.

In a note on the ‘Ethnogénie des Dravidiens’, Mr. Louis Lapicque writes as follows. “Les populations caractéristiques du Wainaad sont les Panyer, les négroides les plus accusés et les plus homogenes que j’ai vus, et probablement qui existent dans toute l’Inde. D’autre part, les tribus vivant de leur côté sur leurs propres cultures, fortement négroides encore, mais plus mélangées. Tels sont les Naiker et les Kouroumbas.”

—— Indice nasal. Indice céphalique. Taille.

54 Panyer 84 74 154

28 Kouroumbas 81 75 157

12 Naiker 80 76.9 157

Concerning Nāyakas or Naikers and Kurumbas, Mr. F. W. F. Fletcher writes to me as follows from Nellakotta, Nīlgiris. “It may be that in some parts of Wynaad there are people known indifferently as Kurumbas and Shola Nāyakas; but I have no hesitation in saying that the Nāyakas in my employ are entirely distinct from the Kurumbas. The two classes do not intermarry; they do not live together; they will not eat together. Even their prejudices with regard to food are different, for a Kurumba will eat bison flesh, and a Nāyaka will not. The latter stoutly maintains that he is entirely distinct from, and far superior to, the Kurumba, and would be grievously offended if he were classed as a Kurumba. The religious ceremonies of the two tribes are also different. The Nāyakas have separate temples, and worship separate gods. The chief Kurumba temple in this part of the country is close to Pandalur, and here, especially at the Bishu feast, the Kurumbas gather in numbers. My Nāyakas do not recognise this temple, but have their place of worship in the heart of the jungle, where they make their pūja (worship) under the direction of their own priest. The Nāyakas will not attend the funeral of a Kurumba; nor will they invite Kurumbas to the funeral of one of their own tribe. There is a marked variation in their modes of life. The Kurumba of this part lives in comparatively open country, in the belt of deciduous forest lying between the ghāts proper and the foot of the Nīlgiri plateau. Here he has been brought into contact with European Planters, and is, comparatively speaking, civilised. The Nāyaka has his habitat in the dense jungle of the ghāts, and is essentially a forest nomad, living on honey, jungle fruits, and the tuberous roots of certain jungle creepers. By constant association with myself, my Nāyaka men have lost the fear of the white man, which they entertained when I first came into the district; but even now, if I visit the village of a colony who reside in the primæval forest, the women and children will hide themselves in the jungle at sight of me. The superstitions of the two tribes are different. Some Nāyakas are credited with the power of changing themselves at will into a tiger, and of wreaking vengeance on their enemies in that guise. And the Kurumba holds the Nāyaka in as much awe as other castes hold the Kurumba. Lower down, on the flat below the ghāts I am opening a rubber estate, and here I have another Nāyaka colony, who differ in many respects from their congeners above, although the two colonies are within five miles as the crow flies. The low-country Nāyaka does his hair in a knot on one side of his head, Malayālam fashion, and his speech is a patois of Malayālam. The Nāyaka on the hills above has a mop of curly hair, and speaks a dialect of his own quite distinct from the Kurumba language, though both are derived from Kanarese. But that the low-country people are merely a sept of the Nāyaka tribe is evident from the fact that intermarriage is common amongst the two colonies, and that they meet at the same temple for their annual pūja. The priest of the hill colony is the pūjāri for both divisions of the Nāyakas, and the arbiter in all their disputes.”

Kurumo.—The Kurumos are a caste of Oriya agriculturists, found mainly in the Russellkonda tāluk of Ganjam. They are called Kurumo by Oriyas, and Kudumo by Telugus. There is a tradition that their name is derived from Srikurmam in the Vizagapatam district, where they officiated as priests in the Siva temple, and whence they were driven northward. The Kurumos say that, at the present day, some members of the caste are priests at Saivite temples in Ganjam, bear the title Rāvulo, and wear the sacred thread. It is noted in the Madras Census Report, 1901, that “some of them wear the sacred thread, and follow Chaitanya, and Oriya Brāhmans will accept drinking-water at their hands. They will eat in Brāhmans’ houses, and will accept drinking-water from Gaudos, Bhondāris, and Rāvulos.” Bhondāris wash the feet of Kurumos on ceremonial occasions, and, in return for their services, receive twice the number of cakes given to other guests at feasts.

In addition to the Kurumos proper, there is a section called Kūji Kurumo, which is regarded as lower in the social status. The caste titles are Bissoyi, Bēhara, Dudi, Majhi, Nāyako, Podhāno, Rāvulo, Ravuto, Sēnāpati, and Udhdhandra. Those who bear the title Dudi are priests at the temples of the village deities. The title Udhdhandra was conferred by a zamindar, and is at present borne by a number of families, intermarriage among members of which is forbidden. Every village has a headman entitled Adhikari, who is under the control of a chief headman called Bēhara. Both these appointments are hereditary.

Among other deities, the Kurumos worship various Tākurānis (village deities), such as Bōdo Rāvulo, Bāgha Dēvi, Kumbēswari, and Sathabhavuni. In some places, there are certain marriage restrictions based on the house-gods. For example, a family whose house-god is Bōdo Rāvulo may not intermarry with another family which worships the same deity. Every family of Kurumos apparently keeps the house-god within the house, and it is worshipped on all important occasions. The god is usually represented by five areca nuts, which are kept in a box. These nuts must be filled with pieces of gold, silver, iron, copper, and lead, which are introduced through a hole drilled in the base of the nut, which is plugged with silver.

Infant marriage is the rule, and, if a girl does not secure a husband before she reaches maturity, she has to go through the mock-marriage rite, called dharma bibha, with her grandfather or other elder. On the evening of the day previous to that of the real marriage, called gondo sona, the paternal aunt of the bridegroom goes to a tank (pond), carrying thither a brass vessel. This is placed on the tank bund (embankment), and worshipped. Some cowry (Cypræa arabica) shells are then thrown into the tank, and the vessel is filled with water, and taken to the house. At the entrance thereto, a Sullokhondia Gaudo stands, holding a vessel of water, from which a little water is poured into the vessel brought from the tank. The bride’s aunt then goes to three or five houses of members of her own caste, and receives water therefrom in her vessel, which is placed near the house-gods, and eventually kept on the marriage dais throughout the wedding ceremonies. Over the marriage dais (bēdi) at the bridegroom’s house, four brass vessels, and four clay lamps fed with ghī (clarified butter), are placed at the four corners. Round the four posts thereof seven turns of thread are made by a Brāhman purōhit. The bridegroom, wearing mokkuto (forehead chaplet) and sacred thread, after going seven times round the dais, breaks the thread, and takes his seat thereon. After Zizyphus Jujuba leaves and rice have been thrown over him, he is taken in procession to a temple. On his return home, he is met by five or seven young girls and women at the entrance to the house, and Zizyphus leaves are again thrown over him. A Bhondāri woman sprinkles water from mango leaves over him, and he proceeds in a palanquin to the home of the bride. At the marriage ceremony, the bride throws rice on the head of the bridegroom over a screen which is interposed between them. After their hands have been tied together, a grinding-stone and roller are placed between them, and they face each other while their fingers are linked together above the stone. On the seventh day, the newly married couple worship seven posts at the bride’s house. The various articles used in connection with the marriage ceremonies, except one pot, are thrown into a tank. On his return thence, the bridegroom breaks the pot, after he has been sprinkled with the water contained in it by a Bhondāri. At times of marriage, and on other auspicious occasions, the Kurumos, when they receive their guests, must take hold of their sticks or umbrellas, and it is regarded as an insult if this is not done.

On the fifth and eighth days after the birth of a child, a new cloth is spread on the floor, on which the infant is placed, with a book (bāgavatham) close to its head, and an iron rod, such as is used by Oriya castes for branding the skin of the abdomen of newly-born babies, at its side. The relations and friends assemble to take part in the ceremonial, and a Brāhman purōhit reads a purānam. Betel leaves and areca nuts are then distributed. On the twenty-first day, the ceremonial is repeated, and the purōhit is asked to name the child. He ascertains the constellation under which it was born, and announces that a name commencing with a certain letter should be given to it.

Like other Oriya castes, the Kurumos are particular with regard to the observation of various vratams (fasts). One, called sudasa vratam, is observed on a Thursday falling on the tenth day after new moon in the month of Karthika (November-December). The most elderly matron of the house does pūja (worship), and a purānam is read. Seven cubits of a thread dyed with turmeric are measured on the forearm of a girl seven years old, and cut off. The deity is worshipped, and seven knots are made in the piece of thread, which is tied on to the left upper arm of the matron. This vratam is generally observed by Oriya castes.

Kurup.—In a note on the artisan classes of Malabar, it is recorded that “the Kolla-Kurups combine two professions which at first sight seem strangely incongruous, shampooing or massage, and the construction of the characteristic leather shields of Malabar. But the two arts are intimately connected with the system of combined physical training, as we should now call it, and exercise in arms, which formed the curriculum of the kalari (gymnasium), and the title kurup is proper to castes connected with that institution. A similar combination is found in the Vil-Kurups (bow-Kurups), whose traditional profession was to make bows and arrows, and train the youth to use them, and who now shampoo, make umbrellas, and provide bows and arrows for some Nāyar ceremonies. Other classes closely connected are the Kollans or Kurups distinguished by the prefixes Chāya (colour), Palissa (shield), and Tōl (leather), who are at present engaged in work in lacquer, wood, and leather.” Kurup also occurs as a title of Nāyars, in reference to the profession of arms, and many of the families bearing this title are said to still maintain their kalari.

Kuruvikkāran.—The Kuruvikkārans are a class of Marāthi-speaking bird-catchers and beggars, who hunt jackals, make bags out of the skin, and eat the flesh thereof. By Telugu people they are called Nakkalavāndlu (jackal people), and by Tamilians Kuruvikkāran (bird-catchers). They are also called Jāngal Jāti and Kāttu Mahrāti. Among themselves they are known as Vagiri or Vagirivala. They are further known as Yeddu Marigē Vētagāndlu, or hunters who hide behind a bullock. In decoying birds, they conceal themselves behind a bullock, and imitate the cries of birds in a most perfect manner. They are said to be called in Hindustani Paradhi and Mīr Shikāri.

As regards their origin, there is a legend that there were once upon a time three brothers, one of whom ran away to the mountains, and, mixing with Kanna Kuruvans, became degraded. His descendants are now represented by the Dommaras. The descendants of the second brother are the Lambādis, and those of the third Kuruvikkārans. The lowly position of these three classes is attributed to the fact that the three brothers, when wandering about, came across Sīta, the wife of Rāma, about whose personal charms they made remarks, and laughed. This made Sīta angry, and she uttered the following curse:—“Mālitho shikar, naitho bhikar,” i.e., if (birds) are found, huntsmen; if not, beggars. According to a variant of the legend, many years ago in Rājputāna there lived two brothers, the elder of whom was dull, and the younger smart. One day they happened to be driving a bullock along a path by the side of a pool of water, when they surprised Sīta bathing. The younger brother hid behind his bullock, but the elder was too stupid to conceal himself, and so both were observed by the goddess, who was much annoyed, and banished them to Southern India. The elder she ordered to live by carrying goods about the country on pack-bullocks, and the younger to catch birds by means of two snares, which she obligingly formed from hair plucked from under her arm. Consequently the Vagirivalas never shave that portion of the body.

The Kuruvikkārans are nomadic, and keep pack-bullocks, which convey their huts and domestic utensils from place to place. Some earn their living by collecting firewood, and others by acting as watchmen in fields and gardens. Women and children go about the streets begging, and singing songs, which are very popular, and imitated by Hindu women. They further earn a livelihood by hawking needles and glass beads, which they may be seen in the evening purchasing from Kayalans (Muhammadan merchants) in the Madras bazar.

One of the occupations of the Kuruvikkārans is the manufacture and sale of spurious jackal horns, known as narikompu. To catch the jackals, they make an enclosure of a net, inside which a man seats himself, armed with a big stick. He then proceeds to execute a perfect imitation of the jackal’s cry, on hearing which the jackals come running to see what is the matter, and are beaten down. A Kuruvikkāran, whom the Rev. E. Löventhal interviewed, howled like a jackal, to show his skill as a mimic. The cry was quite perfect, and no jackal would have doubted that he belonged to their class. Sometimes the entire jackal’s head is sold, skin and all. The process of manufacture of the horn is as follows. After the brain has been removed, the skin is stripped off a limited area of the skull, and the bone at the place of junction of the sagittal and lambdoid sutures above the occipital foramen is filed away, so that only a point, like a bony outgrowth, is left. The skin is then brought back, and pressed over the little horn, which pierces it. The horn is also said to be made out of the molar tooth of a dog or jackal, introduced through a small hole in a piece of jackal’s skin, round which a little blood or turmeric paste is smeared, to make it look more natural. In most cases only the horn, with a small piece of skull and skin, is sold. Sometimes, instead of the skin from the part where the horn is made, a piece of skin is taken from the snout, where the long black hairs are. The horn then appears surrounded by long black bushy hairs. The Kuruvikkārans explain that, when they see a jackal with such long hairs on the top of its head, they know that it possesses a horn. A horn-vendor, whom I interviewed, assured me that the possessor of a horn is a small jackal, which comes out of its hiding-place on full-moon nights to drink the dew. According to another version, the horn is only possessed by the leader of a pack of jackals. The Sinhalese and Tamils alike regard the horn “as a talisman, and believe that its fortunate possessor can command the realisation of every wish. Those who have jewels to conceal rest in perfect security if, along with them, they can deposit a narricomboo.” The ayah (nurse) of a friend who possessed such a talisman remarked “Master going into any law-court, sure to win the case.” This, as has been pointed out, does not show much faith in the British administration of justice, if a so-called jackal’s horn can turn the scale. Two spurious horns, which I possessed, were promptly stolen from my study table, to bring luck to some Tamil member of my establishment.

Some Kuruvikkārans carry suspended from their turban or body-cloth a small whistle, with which they imitate the song of birds, and attract them. Young boys often have with them a bundle of small sticks strung together, and with a horse-hair noose attached to them. The sticks are driven into the ground, and grain is strewn around to entice birds, which get caught in the noose.

The women wear a petticoat and an ill-fitting bodice. Among other classes “Wearing the bodice like a Kuruvikkāran woman” is used as a taunt. The petticoat may never be taken off till it is tattered and torn, and replaced by a new one; and, when a woman bathes, she has to do so with the garment on. Anything which has come in contact with the petticoat, or rice husked with a woman’s feet, is polluted, and may not be used by men. Women adorn themselves with necklaces of beads and cowry shells, or sometimes, like the Lambādis, wear shell bracelets. Both men and women stain their teeth with a preparation of myrabolams, Acacia arabica pods, and sulphates of copper and iron. Females may not blacken their teeth, or wear a necklace of black beads before marriage.

A young married woman, wherever she may be during the daytime, must rejoin her husband at night. If she fails to do so, she has to go through the ordeal of grasping a red-hot iron bar or sickle, and carrying it sixteen paces without dropping it. Another form of ordeal is dipping the hands in a pot containing boiling cowdung water, and picking out therefrom a quarter-anna piece. If the woman is innocent, she is able to husk a small quantity of paddy (rice) by rubbing it between her hands immediately after the immersion in the liquid. If a man has to submit to trial by ordeal, seven arka (Calotropis gigantea) leaves are tied to his palm, and a piece of red-hot iron placed thereon. His innocence is established if he is able to carry it while he takes seven long strides.

The Kuruvikkārans have exogamous septs, of which Rānaratōd seems to be an important one, taking a high place in the social scale. Males usually add the title Sing as a suffix to their names.

Marriage is always between adults, and the celebration, including the betrothal ceremony, extends over five days, during which meat is avoided, and the bride keeps her face concealed by throwing her cloth over it. Sometimes she continues to thus veil herself for a short time after marriage. On the first day, after the exchange of betel, the father of the bride says “Are you ready to receive my daughter as your daughter-in-law into your house? I am giving her to your son. Take care of her. Do not beat her when she is ill. If she cannot carry water, you should help her. If you beat her, or ill-treat her in any way, she will come back to us.” The future father-in-law having promised that the girl will be kindly treated, the bridegroom says “I am true, and have not touched any other woman. I have not smiled at any girl whom I have seen. Your daughter should not smile at any man whom she sees. If she does so, I shall drive her back to your house.” In the course of the marriage ceremonies, the bride is taken to the home of her mother-in-law, to whom she makes a present of a new cloth. The Nyavya (headman) hands a string of black beads to the mother-in-law, who ties it round the bride’s neck, while the assembled women sing. At a marriage of the first daughter of a member of the Rānaratōd sept, a Brāhman purōhit is invited to be present, and give his blessing, as it is believed that a Gujarāti Brāhman was originally employed for the marriage celebration.

The principal tribal deity of the Kuruvikkārans is Kāli or Durga, and each sept possesses a small plate with a figure of the goddess engraved on it, which is usually kept in the custody of the headman. It is, however, frequently pledged, and money-lenders give considerable sums on the security of the idol, as the Kuruvikkārans would on no account fail to redeem it. When the time for the annual festival of the goddess draws nigh, the headman or an elder piles up Vigna Catiang seeds in five small heaps. He then decides in his mind whether there is an odd or even number of seeds in the majority of heaps. If, when the seeds are counted, the result agrees with his forecast, it is taken as a sign of the approval of the goddess, and arrangements are made for the festival. Otherwise it is abandoned for the year. On the day of the festival, nine goats and a buffalo are sacrificed. While some cakes are being cooked in oil, a member of the tribe prays that the goddess will descend on him, and, taking some of the cakes out of the boiling liquid, with his palm rubs the oil on his head. He is then questioned by those assembled, to whom he gives oracular replies, after sucking the blood from the cut throat of a goat. It is noted in the North Arcot Manual that the Vagirivalas assemble two or three times in the year at Varadāreddipalli for worship. The objects of this are three saktis called Mahan Kāli, Chāmundi, and Mahammāyi, represented by small silver figures, which are mortgaged to a Reddi of the village, and lent by him during the few days of the festival.

Kūsa.—A sub-division of Holeyas in South Canara, who also call themselves Uppāra. Some of them say that they are the same as Uppāras of Mysore, whose hereditary occupation was the manufacture of salt from salt-earth (ku, earth). Kūsa further occurs as a synonym of the Otattu, or tile-making section of the Nāyars, and Kūsa Mārān as a class of potters in Travancore. Kūsa is also an exogamous sept of the Bōyas.

Kusavan.—The Kusavans are the Tamil potters. “The name,” Mr. H. A. Stuart writes, “is said to be derived from the Sanskrit word ku signifying earth, the material in which they work, and avan, a personal termination. They wear the sacred thread, and profess both Saivism and Vaishnavism. Their ceremonials are somewhat like those of the Vellālas. The eating of flesh is permitted, but not widow marriage. Some have priests of their own caste, while others employ Brāhmans. Kusavans sometimes officiate as pūjaris in Pidāri temples. Their titles are Udayan and Vēlān. Their stupidity and ignorance are proverbial.” At times of census, Kulālan has been returned as a synonym of Kusavan, and Kusavan as an occupational division of Paraiyans. The Kusavans are divided into the territorial sections Chōla, Chēra, and Pāndya, and say that “these are descended from the three sons of their original ancestor Kulālan, who was the son of Brahma. He prayed to Brahma to be allowed, like him, to create and destroy things daily; so Brahma made him a potter.”

In ancient days, the potters made the large pyriform sepulchral urns, which have, in recent times, been excavated in Tinnevelly, Madura, Malabar, and elsewhere. Dr. G. U. Pope shows that these urns are mentioned in connection with the burial of heroes and kings as late as the eighth century A.D., and renders one of the Tamil songs bearing on the subject as follows:—

“Oh! potter chief ... what toil hath befallen thee!
The descendant of the Cora kings....
Hath gained the world of gods. And so
’Tis thine to shape an urn so vast
That it shall cover the remains of such an one.”

The legend concerning the origin of the potter classes is narrated in the article on Kummaras. “It is,” Mr. E. Holder writes, “supposed by themselves that they are descended from a Brāhmin father and Sūdra mother, for the sacrificial earthen vessels, which are now made by them, were, according to the Vēdas, intended to be made by the priests themselves. Some of the potters still wear the sacred thread, like the Kammālars or artisan class. They are generally illiterate, though some of their class have earned distinction as sound scholars, especially of late years. The women assist the men in their work, chiefly where delicacy of execution is needed. On the whole, the potters are a poor class compared with the Kammālar class, which includes jewellers, metal-workers and wood-workers. Their occupation is, on that account, somewhat despised by others.”

The potter’s apparatus is described by Monier Williams as “a simple circular horizontal well-balanced fly-wheel, generally two or three feet in diameter, which can be made to rotate for two or three minutes by a slight impulse. This the potter loads with clay, and then, with a few easy sweeps and turns of his hands, he moulds his material into beautiful curves and symmetrical shapes, and leaves the products of his skill to bake in the sun.” By Mr. Holder the apparatus is described as follows. “The potter’s implements are few, and his mode of working is very simple. The wheel, a clumsily constructed and defective apparatus, is composed of several thin pliable pieces of wood or bamboo, bent and tied together in the form of a wheel about 3½ feet in diameter. This is covered over thickly with clay mixed with goat’s hair or any fibrous substance. The four spokes and the centre on which the vessel rests are of wood. The pivot is of hard wood or steel. The support for the wheel consists of a rounded mass of clay and goat’s hair, in which is imbedded a piece of hard wood or stone, with one or two slight depressions for the axle or pivot to move in. The wheel is set into motion first by the hand, and then spun rapidly by the aid of a long piece of bamboo, one end of which fits into a slight depression in the wheel. The defects in the apparatus are—firstly its size, which requires the potter to stoop over it in an uneasy attitude; secondly, the irregularity of its speed, with a tendency to come to a standstill, and to wave or wobble in its motion; and thirdly, the time and labour expended in spinning the wheel afresh every time its speed begins to slacken. Notwithstanding, however, the rudeness of this machine, the potters are expert at throwing, and some of their small wares are thin and delicate. The usual manner in which most of the Madras potters bake their wares is as follows. A circular space, about ten feet in diameter, is marked out on the ground in any convenient open spot. Small pieces of wood and dried sticks are spread over this space to a depth of about six inches, and a layer of brattis (dried cow-dung cakes) laid over the sticks. The vessels are then carefully piled on top of this platform of fuel to a height of about five or six feet, and the whole heap is covered over with straw, and plastered over with clay, a few small openings being left here and there to allow the smoke to escape. These arrangements being completed, the fuel at the bottom is fired, and in the course of a few hours the process of baking is completed.”

When travelling in India, Dr. Jagor noticed that the potters of Salem communicated to their ware a kind of polish, exactly like that seen on some of the specimens of antique pottery found in cromlechs. It was ascertained that the Salem potters use a seed for producing the polish, which was determined by Surgeon-General G. Bidie to be the seed of Gyrocarpus Jacquini, which is also used for making rosaries and necklaces. Another method employed for producing a polish is to rub the surface of the baked vessel with the mucilaginous juice of tuthi (Abutilon indicum), and then fire the vessel again.

It is stated, in the Coimbatore Manual, that “the potter never begins his day’s work at the wheel without forming into a lingam and saluting the revolving lump of clay, which, with the wheel, bears a strong resemblance to the usual sculptured conjunction” (of lingam and yōni). An old potter woman, whom I examined on this point, explained that the lump represents Ganēsa. In like manner, the pan coolies at the salt factories never scrape salt from the pans without first making a Pillayar (Ganēsa) of a small heap of salt, on the top of which the salt is sometimes piled up.

Painted hollow clay images are made by special families of Kusavans known as pūjāri, who, for the privilege of making them, have to pay an annual fee to the headman, who spends it on a festival at the caste temple. When a married couple are anxious to have female offspring, they take a vow to offer figures of the seven virgins, who are represented all seated in a row. If a male or female recovers from cholera, small-pox, or other severe illness, a figure of the corresponding sex is offered. A childless woman makes a vow to offer up the figure of a baby, if she brings forth offspring. Figures of animals—cattle, sheep, horses, etc.—are offered at the temple when they recover from sickness, or are recovered after they have been stolen. The pupils of the eyes of the figures are not painted in till they are taken to the temple, where offerings of fruit, rice, etc., are first made. Even the pupils of a series of these images, which were specially made for me, were not painted at the potter’s house, but in the verandah of the traveller’s bungalow where I was staying. Horses made of clay, hollow and painted red and other colours, are set up in the fields to drive away demons, or as a thank-offering for recovery from sickness or any piece of good luck. The villagers erect these horses in honour of the popular deity Ayanar, the guardian deity of the fields, who is a renowned huntsman, and is believed, when, with his two wives Purna and Pushkala, he visits the village at night, to mount the horses, and ride down the demons. Ayanar is said to be “the special deity of the caste. Kusavans are generally the pūjāris in his temples, and they make the earthenware (and brick and mortar) horses and images, which are placed before these buildings.”

For the following note on a ceremony, in which the potters take part, I am indebted to an essay submitted in connection with the M.A. degree of the Madras University. “Brāhmans of Vēdic times ate dogs, horses, bulls, and goats. The fondness for mutton even in a raw state finds its modern counterpart in the bloody hecatombs that disfigure some of their annual sacrifices. In these ceremonies called Pasubandha, Agnishtoma, Vajapeya, Garudachayana, etc., a goat is tied to a post, and, after the usual mantrams (prayers) and the service of frankincense, etc., is ablutioned in water mixed with turmeric and taken to the slaughter-room. And the method of slaughtering is most appalling. Two men appointed for the purpose, invariably men belonging to the pot-making community, rush into the apartment. One catches hold of the fore-quarter of the animal and keeps it from struggling, while the other squeezes the scrotum with so much violence that the animal succumbs in a few minutes, after writhing in the most painful fashion. The man in charge of the fore-quarter puts a handful of salt into the animal’s mouth, and holds it tight, lest the animal should bleat, and make the ceremony unsanctimonious. The carcase is now brought to the mailing shed, where, with crude knives and untrained hands, the Brāhmans peel off the skin most savagely. Then they cut open the chest, and it is a common sight to see these Brāhmans, uninitiated in the art of butchery, getting their hands severely poked or lacerated by the cut sharp ends of the ribs. Then portions of flesh are cut off from various portions of the carcase, such as the buccal region, the cardiac region, the scapular region, the renal, the scrotal, the gluteal and gastroenemial regions. The amount of flesh thus chopped comes to not less than three big potfuls, and they are cooked in water over the slow fire of a primitively constructed oven. No salt is put to season the meat, but the Brāhmans bolt it without any condiment in an awful fashion.”

The services of the potter are required in connection with the marriage ceremonial of many castes. At some Brāhman marriages, for example, the tāli is tied on the bride’s neck in the presence of 33 crores (330 millions) of gods, who are represented by a number of variously coloured pots, large and small. At a Lingāyat wedding, new pots are brought with much shouting, and deposited in the room in which the household god is kept. An enclosure is made round the bride and bridegroom with cotton thread passed round four pots placed at the four corners of the marriage pandal. Among the Patnūlkārans, on the occasion of a wedding, a number of small pots are set up in a room, and worshipped daily throughout the marriage ceremonies. The ceremonial of breaking a pot containing water at the graveside prevails among many classes, e.g., Oddēs, Toreyas, and Paraiyans.

At the time of the Aruvaththimūvar festival, or festival of the sixty-three saints, at Mylapore in the city of Madras, crowds may be seen returning homeward after attending it, each carrying a new pot (chatty), which they purchase so as not to go home empty-handed. At the festival of Tiruvottiyūr, stalks of Amarantus gangeticus are in like manner purchased.

It is noted, in the Gazetteer of the Madura district, that “a Kusavan can claim the hand of his paternal aunt’s daughter. Marriage occurs before puberty. The tāli is tied by the bridegroom’s sister, and the usual bride-price is paid. The ceremonies last three days. One of them consists in the bridegroom’s sister sowing seeds in a pot, and, on the last day of the wedding, the seedlings which have sprouted are taken with music to a river or tank (pond), and thrown into it. When the bride attains maturity, a ceremony is conducted by the caste priest, and consummation follows on the next auspicious day.”

Among the Kusavans, divorce and remarriage are permissible on mutual agreement, on one party paying to the other the expenses of the latter’s original marriage (parisam). A case came before the High Court of Madras, in which a Kusavan woman in the Tinnevelly district, on the ground of ill-treatment, repaid her husband the parisam, thereby dissolving the marriage, and married another man.

The potters are considered to be adepts in the treatment of cases of fracture. And it is still narrated how one of them successfully set in splints the broken arm of Lord Elphinstone, when Governor of Madras, after the English doctors had given up the job as hopeless. “In our village,” it is recorded, “cases of dislocations of bones and fractures, whether simple, compound, comminuted or complicated, are taken in hand by the bone-setters, who are no other than our potters. The village barber and the village potter are our surgeons. While the barber treats cases of boils, wounds, and tumours, the potter confines himself to cases of fracture and dislocations of bones.” The amateur treatment by the unqualified potter sometimes gives rise to what is known as potter’s gangrene.

For the notes of the following case I am indebted to Captain F. F. Elwes, I.M.S. A bricklayer, about a month and a half or two months prior to admission into hospital, fell from a height, and injured his left arm. He went to a potter, who placed the arm and forearm in a splint, the former in a line with the latter, i.e., fully extended. He kept the splint on for about a month and, when it was removed, found that he was unable to bend the arm at the elbow-joint. When he was examined at the hospital, practically no movement, either active or passive, could be obtained at the elbow-joint. The lower end of the humerus could be felt to be decidedly thickened both anteriorly and posteriorly. There had apparently been a fracture of the lower end of the humerus. Röntgen ray photographs showed an immense mass of callus extending over the anterior surface of the elbow-joint from about two and a half inches above the lower end of the humerus to about an inch below the elbow-joint. There was also some callus on the posterior surface of the lower end of the humerus.

Concerning potter’s gangrene, Captain W. J. Niblock, I.M.S., writes as follows. “Cases of gangrene, the result of treatment of fractures by the village potters, used to be frequently met with in the General Hospital, Madras. These were usually brought when the only possible treatment consisted in amputation well above the disease. Two of these cases are indelibly impressed on my mind. Both were cases of gangrene of the leg, the result of tight splinting by potters. The first patient was a boy of thirteen. Whilst a student was removing the dressings on his admission, the foot came off in his hands, leaving two inches of the lower ends of the tibia and fibula exposed, and absolutely devoid of all the soft tissues, not even the periosteum being left. The second case was that of a Hindu man, aged 46. He was taken to the operation theatre at once. Whilst engaged in disinfecting my hands, I heard a dull thud on the floor of the operation theatre, turned round, and found that the gangrenous leg, as the result of a struggle whilst chloroform was being administered, had become separated at the knee-joint, and had fallen on floor; or, to put it tersely, the man had kicked his leg off.”

In connection with the Tamil proverb “This is the law of my caste, and this is the law of my belly,” the Rev. H. Jensen notes that “potters are never Vaishnavas; but potters at Srirangam were compelled by the Vaishnava Brāhmans to put the Vaishnava mark on their foreheads; otherwise the Brāhmans would not buy their pots for the temple. One clever potter, having considered the difficulty, after making the Saivite symbol on his forehead, put a big Vaishnava mark on his stomach. When rebuked for so doing by a Brāhman, he replied as above.” The proverb “Does the dog that breaks the pots understand how difficult it is to pile them up?” is said by Jensen to have reference to the pots which are piled up at the potter’s house. A variant is “What is many days’ work for the potter is but a few moment’s work for him who breaks the pots.”

In the Madura district, the Kusavans have Vēlan as a title.

The insigne of the Kusavans, recorded at Conjeeveram, is a potter’s wheel.

Kutikkar.—A name for Dāsis in Travancore.

Kutraki (wild goat).—An exogamous sept of Jātapu.

Kūttādi.—Described, in the Census Report, 1901, as an occupational name, meaning a rope-dancer, applied to Dommaras, Paraiyans, or Koravas. Ārya Kūttādi is a Tamil synonym for Marātha (Ārē) Dommaras. Kūttādi also occurs as the name of a class of mendicants attached to Kaikōlans.

Kūttan.—A division of Toda.

Kūttina.—Recorded, in the Travancore Census Report, 1901, as a sub-division of Nāyar.

Kuttiya.—A sub-division of Kond.

Kuzhal.—The name of the flute used by shepherds and snake-charmers. It occurs as an exogamous sept of Toreyas, the members of which must not hear the sound of this musical instrument when at meals.

Kūzhappara.—Recorded, in the Travancore Census Report, 1901, as a sub-division of Nāyar.

Kuzhiyan.—A synonym derived from kuzhi a pit, for Thanda Pulayans, in reference to the legend that they were found emerging in a state of nudity from a pit.